On our engagement eve, my fiancée Lily bankrupted my family and fled with Jeff. Creditors drove my parents to suicide. Seeking justice, I confronted the Grants—only to be drugged and sold in an elite poker game. A dozen men filmed my humiliation, breaking me completely. As I prepared to jump, Lily’s sister Claire saved me. She destroyed my tormentors, claimed she’d loved me for years, and married me in a lavish ceremony, cutting ties with her family. Five years later, I stood on that same yacht—and overheard Claire’s plan: "Jeff’s child alone will inherit. Ensure Ken can never father one. Same men as before—don’t hold back." My salvation was hell. My love, a lie. Very well. She’ll get her wish. 1 On the deck, Claire stood against the sea breeze, her voice laced with a tragic, theatrical sorrow. "Since Jeff has already chosen my sister, the only thing I can do is clear the way for them. Bankrupting the Kauffman family was just the first step. Think of their company's assets as my wedding gift to them." She added, with a dismissive wave, "Ken is tainted goods now. He's not fit to climb into my bed." Her friend, Cici, frowned, a look of genuine pity on her face. "But you were the one who hired those men to drag him into that cabin five years ago. You know he's been battling severe depression because of it. You've been with him through every therapy session. He's a man, Claire. To be violated by other men, and now you want to put him through it again? How is he supposed to live with himself after this?" Claire’s expression hardened. "He'll live. I'll just have to comfort him through the therapy again." "I promised Jeff that Ken would never be a threat to him. The only way to ensure that is to completely shatter his pride as a man." "And what about Ken? Does he deserve to be manipulated like this? He's innocent! He loves you so much, how could you—" "Enough," Claire snapped, her voice like ice. "Just do as I said. It's his own fault for being in the way." "Give me the pills. I need to go watch him take them myself." Seeing she couldn’t be reasoned with, Cici turned and walked away, a tear escaping her eye and vanishing into the night wind. I hugged myself, a violent tremor wracking my body. Five years ago. Lily bankrupted my family, taking all our money to start a new life with Jeff abroad. My parents, cornered by debt collectors, saw no way out but to jump. I went to the Grant estate alone, a boy demanding justice from giants. They drugged me and delivered me to this very yacht. A plaything in a dark game for the rich. A dozen men dragged me into a cabin, their jeers and the flash of their cameras burning into my memory. When it was over, I crawled onto the deck, ready to end it all in the cold, dark water. That's when Claire appeared, pulling me into her arms. She was my only warmth in a frozen world. She gently wiped away my tears and the blood. "Wait for me," she whispered. "Every person who hurt you… I won't let a single one get away." That night, the yacht was filled with screams. The trauma left its mark. I was plagued by night terrors, waking up drenched in sweat. And every time, she was there, stroking my back, whispering reassurances. She said she couldn't control Lily, but she would repay Lily’s debt to me a hundred times over. To give me the wedding of my dreams, she broke away from her powerful family, declaring her love for me to the world. But it was all a mirage. Five years of happiness built on a foundation of lies. The one who pulled me from the abyss was the same one who pushed me into hell. I stumbled back to our cabin. Seeing my pale face, Claire’s eyes filled with alarm. She rushed to me, pulling me into that familiar, practiced embrace, patting my back gently. "Ken? What is it? Are you remembering things again? Don't be afraid. I'm with you this time. Those men won't ever hurt you again." She held up a glass of water. "I had the doctor prepare your medication before we boarded. Drink it before the water gets cold." I looked into her deceptively gentle eyes. "Claire," I said softly, "I don't want the medication anymore." "I'm better now. I want to go home." The warmth in her eyes chilled by a few degrees. She tugged at my arm, her voice a saccharine-sweet pout. "Come on, Ken, be good. Psychological issues can relapse so easily. The medicine will help you recover faster." "Drink this, and the nightmares will go away." Before I could protest, she had already pushed the pills into my mouth. The warm water went down, but a profound chill spread through my body. Certain I would soon be unconscious, Claire didn't linger. She turned and hurried out of the cabin. I knew where she was going. To meet the men from five years ago. Shattered, nightmarish memories flooded my mind. A cold sweat broke out across my skin, and I collapsed onto the floor, writhing in silent agony. As my consciousness faded, I felt a warm kiss on my forehead. "Shh, Ken. It'll be over soon. I'll be waiting for you." Then came the pain. A searing, tearing pain. Blood pooled beneath me. The horrifyingly familiar sensation of coarse, brutal hands on my skin enveloped me. I don't know how much time passed before I heard Claire's voice again, sharp and clinical. "Is he broken?" "He's broken, Ms. Grant. But… they didn't stop in time. I think they might have… gone too far. He probably won't be able to… you know… ever again." "Excellent. Double your fee. You can collect it when you disembark." When I opened my eyes again, five hours had passed. Claire was holding my hand tightly, her eyes overflowing with anguish. "I'm so sorry… Ken. I failed to protect you." "It was those men from five years ago. They heard you were here and came for revenge. You're badly injured… the doctor said… you won't be able to have intercourse anymore…" "But don't worry," she choked out, tears streaming down her face. "I've dealt with them for good this time. They'll never appear again. Please don't cry. No matter what happens, I'll be by your side. We don't need to do… that. I just need you." I stared blankly at the ceiling, too numb to even feel the pain. I was the one who had been violated. Yet she was crying harder than I was. Her performance was flawless. And I was done being her audience. After a long moment, when her sobs subsided, I spoke, my voice a hollow rasp. "You must be tired… getting revenge for me." "You should rest, Claire. I'm fine." She seemed relieved by my lack of hysterics, closing her eyes and lying down beside me. Soon, her breathing evened out into a steady rhythm. Silently, I reached for her phone. In five years of marriage, this was the first time I had ever unlocked it. The password was Jeff's birthday. Her messaging app was still open. There was only one contact pinned to the top. Jeff. I clicked on it. Their chat history stretched back five years. Not a single day missed their "good morning" and "good night" messages. Though Jeff was on the other side of the world, he sent Claire updates on his entire day. A picture of him shopping, drinking coffee, a selfie from a board meeting. Whatever he sent, Claire responded with enthusiasm and money. A single photo could earn him a ten-thousand-dollar reward. This was how she had remained a part of his life, one photo, one transfer at a time, until thousands of pictures filled a dedicated album. In contrast, whenever I tried to share something from my day, her reply was always the same: "Ken, I'm in a meeting. We'll talk when I get off work." To keep Jeff happy, she moved heaven and earth to get him gifts from exclusive auctions in Europe, shipping them across continents. The order history was a dizzying list spanning dozens of pages. I recognized a few of the brands. Claire had given me a gift from one of them once. It had been the freebie that came with Jeff’s purchase. The newest file in her photo album was a video, uploaded five hours ago. The thumbnail was a picture of me, unconscious after being drugged. Standing over me were a dozen familiar, leering faces. My hand trembled so violently I couldn't press play. With a surge of cold fury, I deleted the video and closed her phone. Claire, if our beginning was a lie, then let me be the one to end it with another. Without hesitation, I messaged my friend, Mark, telling him to have a lifeboat waiting for me on the other side of the yacht tomorrow night. Then, I found a divorce agreement online, downloaded it, and attached it to a new email. Just as I finished, Claire stirred in her sleep, her forehead beaded with sweat. "Ken… no, you can't…" she mumbled, her voice thick with panic. "Ken!" She shot awake, grabbing me and pulling me into a desperate hug, as if she had just gotten me back from the dead. Our chests were pressed together, but her heart and mine beat to two entirely different rhythms. After a moment, she seemed to pull herself back from the nightmare. "Thank God you're okay." This scene had played out countless times. I used to think it was a testament to her deep love, that she felt my pain as her own. Now, I saw it for what it was: a hollow, masterful performance. I let my head fall against her shoulder, allowing her to "comfort" me. "Shh, it's okay. I'll go get you some food. Wait for me." The moment Claire left, I followed. She didn't go to the restaurant. She went to a private suite on a lower deck. As she reached the door, a strong arm shot out, wrapped around her shoulders, and pulled her inside. I stood outside the door, listening as the sounds of breathing inside grew heavy and ragged. "Finally decide to come back?" Claire's voice was a strained whisper. Jeff laughed, a cocky, arrogant sound. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her lips. "If I didn't, I was afraid you'd actually fall for Ken." "I hear you pulled the same trick again? After five years of marriage… leaving your husband impotent for life because of the 'trauma.' You're really something else, Claire…" he taunted. "If Ken ever found out, he'd probably want to skin me alive." Claire let out a small laugh, pulling him closer, her back against the door. "I told you, as long as I'm here, no one will ever touch you." "Your happiness is all that matters. I'll pave your path with his bones." A passing crew member saw me and gasped. "Mr. Kauffman? What are you doing here? You're not well, you shouldn't be wandering around. If Ms. Grant finds out, we'll be in so much trouble!" "Let me help you back to your room." His words drew the attention of nearby guests, their eyes landing on me with open scorn. "Is that Claire Grant's kept man? The one who just got dragged into a cabin by a dozen guys? I heard this is the second time it's happened. Ms. Grant must have a strong stomach to put up with that." "Twice? It's way more than that. A dozen guys each time? Her husband's been with more men than a porn star! She must be blind to have picked a guy like that. Imagine sleeping next to him at night, you'd probably puke." "Who knows if he was forced or if he liked it? Probably not a saint himself. I mean, on a yacht this big, why is he the only one always getting into trouble? He looks decent enough, but turns out he's a switch-hitter who plays for both teams. How disgusting." ... The words hit me like physical blows. My legs felt weak, and I nearly collapsed. Claire heard the commotion and opened the door to see the scene unfolding. Her face went white. She lunged forward, catching me just as my knees gave out. "Ken? What are you doing here?" "Are you feeling alright? Let's get you back to the room." I said nothing, my gaze fixed on Jeff, who stood just behind her. Fearing I’d seen him, Claire quickly explained, "Don't get the wrong idea. Jeff just got back in the country. I just happened to run into him." "It's been five years since… that incident. He was afraid you'd be angry, so he stayed abroad. Now that he's finally back… after all, we're family. Maybe it's time to let it go…" "But don't you worry," she added fiercely. "As long as I'm around, that little brat Lily will never set foot in our home." "Yes," I interrupted, my voice flat. "It's in the past. I won't bring it up again." I knew what she was trying to do. Better to take the initiative myself than be backed into a corner. At least this way, I could maintain a shred of dignity. The gawking onlookers scattered at the sight of Claire. "Ken. Long time no see," Jeff said with a smirk, flashing a limited-edition designer watch on his wrist. I gave a silent nod, swallowing the bitterness in my throat. "I just needed some air. Since you're busy, I'll head back. I wouldn't want to cause you any trouble." Thinking I was angry, Claire chased me back to the cabin, her eyes red with manufactured concern. Seeing the raw lust still lingering in her eyes, a bitter laugh almost escaped my lips. To clear the way for Jeff, she had drugged me and destroyed my life. Now that she had what she wanted, and I was living in a hell of public shame, who was this performance for? "Don't worry," I said, my voice devoid of emotion. "It's been five years. I've forgotten all about it. It's just… the cabin felt stuffy. It brings back things I'd rather not remember. I just went out for some air." Claire let out a breath of relief. She personally wiped a nonexistent tear from the corner of my eye. After feeding me more medication, she left again, this time heading towards the main dining hall. Ten minutes later, a waiter slipped an invitation to a gala dinner under my door. I knew it was Jeff's doing. But I went anyway. Before leaving, I dragged the suitcase I had packed to the railing and hurled it into the dark sea. At the gala, Jeff was the center of attention in a bespoke suit, exuding an air of effortless charm. He was introduced as a member of the Grant family by marriage. Everyone was buzzing, speculating about his relationship with Claire. The whispers followed them everywhere. Guests swarmed them, raising their glasses, praising them as a perfect match, a couple made in heaven. Claire, busy networking, didn't notice me at first. But Jeff did. He walked over and led me out to a secluded balcony. His eyes scanned the fresh, purplish bruises on my neck. He smiled. "Ken. Five years, and you're still the same useless wreck." "So, how was it? Being dragged in there? You couldn't protect your family's company, and now you can't even protect yourself. You're a joke." "You probably don't even know, do you? Those men weren't a random accident. Your beloved wife arranged the whole thing. While you were being stripped naked, she was right there, watching. I almost feel sorry for you!" A white-hot rage surged through me. Before I could move, Jeff slapped himself hard across the face, twice. As a scream pierced the air, he threw himself forward, toppling over the railing and plummeting into the sea below. He thrashed wildly in the churning water. I was still processing what had just happened when Claire shoved me violently to the ground. She didn't even glance at me before diving in after him. When she hauled a sputtering Jeff back onto the deck, he looked at her with wide, wounded eyes. Claire’s gaze, when it finally fell on me, was stripped of all its former affection. "Ken, what the hell is wrong with you?" she hissed. "Is this what you meant by 'letting it go'? Jeff knew what you've been through. He came to check on you, to try and clear up the misunderstandings from years ago, and you attack him?" I struggled to push myself up from the deck, my shirt riding up to reveal the angry red marks on my skin. My expression turned to ice. "Misunderstandings? What about the misunderstanding from five years ago? Don't you think you owe me an explanation for that?" "If it weren't for you, would I be in a position where I needed his pity?" Her brow furrowed, a flicker of panic in her eyes. "What is there to explain? You know what happened to your family's company! I was the one who graciously took you in!" "And if you hadn't disobeyed me and wandered off tonight, none of this would have happened! I can't watch you every second of every day! If you go looking for trouble, why are you blaming Jeff? You should blame yourself for being so reckless!" "Ken, apologize to Jeff! Now!" Before I could speak, Jeff wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "Claire, don't… don't be so hard on him. The bankruptcy of his family… it was all my fault. I didn't stop Lily in time. I'm the one who wronged him. Think of today as… my way of making it up to him." "If he hates me this much, then maybe we shouldn't see each other anymore. I don't want you to be caught in the middle." My fingernails dug into my palms, drawing blood. Watching them walk away, wrapped in each other's arms, I knew. It was over. Five years of devotion turned to ash in that single moment. The crowd of onlookers buzzed with fresh gossip. "That's the Grant family's punching bag, right? The one who's been passed around twice? He's a mess himself, and he has the nerve to pick a fight with Mr. Cross? The nerve. At least Mr. Cross is clean. Not like him… God knows what kind of diseases he's picked up!" "No wonder Claire never brings him out in public. She's probably embarrassed. Imagine being a CEO, and your husband is a human pincushion who's been with dozens of men. Tsk tsk tsk, it's a disgrace to the Grant name!" "Mr. Cross and Ms. Grant are the ones who belong together. I heard they were college sweethearts. If he hadn't gone abroad, this guy would never have had a chance. No one but Claire would be blind enough to marry him."
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