My sister decided she wanted my fiancé. So my family, who had always worshipped the ground she walked on, sold me. They offered me up to settle a debt, leaving me in a darkness so absolute it shattered my mind. By the time Adrian found me, I was already gone. He carried me out of that hell without a word. The next day, my family’s empire crumbled. My parents were found dead. My sister, Chloe, was dragged into an alley and brutalized so badly she would never carry a child. For seven years, as I drifted in a fog, Adrian never left my side. He took me to every specialist, every clinic, becoming a ghost who haunted the city, a man everyone feared. They called him a madman, shackled to a broken woman. Then, a miracle. I was healed. I held the doctor's report in my hand, a surprise I couldn't wait to give him, a new beginning for us on the eve of our wedding. That’s when I heard them in the dressing room. His voice, a raw, ragged whisper. “Keep it down. If Stella hears you, I’ll kill you.” And Chloe’s, hitched and broken as he moved against her. “You broke those men’s hands just for touching me during that little stunt you arranged. Are you really going to kill me, Adrian?” …I stood frozen on the other side of the door, listening until the very end. I forced the tears back down, swallowing the acid in my throat. Then, I plastered a bright, vacant smile on my face, and with the light, skipping energy of a child, I ripped the curtain open. “Adrian! I was looking for you! I found you!” 1 The charged atmosphere in the small space evaporated. My eyes landed on the two of them, pressed together, and for a fraction of a second, the mask on my face cracked. They both jumped, startled. Adrian instantly grabbed his suit jacket, throwing it over Chloe to hide her. I tilted my head, my expression one of pure, childish confusion. “Adrian, why are you being mean to the pretty lady? You made her cry. Did she do something bad?” Chloe let out a sharp, derisive snort, a smirk twisting her flushed face. “God, she’s still just a broken toy.” Adrian, his face tight with discomfort, finished buttoning his shirt. He looked at me, at the empty innocence in my eyes, and a wave of relief washed over him. “It’s nothing, Star. Don’t worry about her. She’s just a salesgirl. Come on, let’s get you into a beautiful dress.” As he tried to lead me away, I twisted in his arms, my reaction sudden and violent. “No! Let me go! You smell… wrong. I don’t like it!” Adrian’s face froze for a moment. He quickly recalibrated, leaning down to press a soft kiss to my forehead. “Okay, Star. You’re right. My fault.” He gently sat me down on a velvet chair and disappeared, returning only after he had changed into a fresh suit, smelling of nothing but clean linen and his familiar cologne. His assistant brought out dozens of wedding heels, but I shook my head at every single one. “Don’t like them.” Adrian, without even looking at the shoes, flicked his fingers. “Bring more.” Just then, Chloe emerged from the dressing room, fully clothed. She pointed a perfectly manicured finger at me. “Adrian, I want the pretty lady to try them on for me!” Adrian’s hand, which had been resting on my waist, tensed. Chloe’s face fell. When Adrian gave a curt nod of approval, her expression twisted into outrage. “You want me to try on shoes for a psycho?” Her shriek made me flinch and shrink back into Adrian’s side. His expression darkened instantly. With a sharp gesture, he had his assistant forcibly drag Chloe over. “You’re lucky she’s even letting you touch her,” he said, his voice deadly calm. “If you don’t want to do it, you can be on a bus back to whatever nowhere town you crawled out of before this city ever knew your name.” Chloe’s face went pale, then red. Reluctantly, she knelt at my feet and picked up a stiletto. The second her fingers brushed my ankle, I kicked out, sending her sprawling backward. I immediately burst into tears and buried my face in Adrian’s chest. “Hurts,” I whimpered. “My toe hurts. Her nails…” Adrian’s brow furrowed. He glanced down at Chloe’s long, blood-red manicure. “Cut them,” he ordered. That was the final straw. The suppressed fury in Chloe ignited. She snatched the high heel and hurled it against the wall. “Adrian, if you wanted to humiliate me, you could have just said so! I wasn’t born to be your goddamn servant!” Sobbing, she turned and ran out of the boutique. “Adrian, is the pretty lady mad at me?” I asked in a small voice. He stroked my back, his touch meant to be soothing. “Don’t worry about her.” His voice was cold, but his eyes were locked on Chloe’s retreating figure. We were halfway through the wedding dress fitting when Adrian’s assistant rushed in, her face pale, and whispered something in his ear. Adrian didn’t move at first, just took a long, slow drag from his cigarette, but a storm was gathering in his eyes. After a long moment, he loosened his tie and finally stood up. “Star, something’s come up at the office. I’ll have Sarah take you home.” I dropped the veil I was holding and ran to him, grabbing his hand. “Adrian, please don’t go. Today is…” “Stella, be good. Don’t be difficult.” He patted my head, his touch dismissive, and walked away without another glance. The rest of my sentence died in my throat. The assistant picked up the discarded veil. “Ma’am, let me help you with the fitting.” I saw the pity in her eyes. I looked down, my voice so quiet it was barely a whisper. “No, thank you. I don’t like it.” We don’t have to try anymore. Midnight came and went. Adrian never came back. I sat by the floor-to-ceiling window, staring out into the storm. Outside, wind and rain lashed against the glass. On the table, the birthday cake he’d had delivered had melted into a sugary puddle. In seven years, this was the first birthday he had ever missed. Suddenly, a deafening crack of thunder echoed, and the entire mansion plunged into darkness. My mind went completely blank. “Adrian!” I screamed into the void. Silence. I scrambled to my feet, my back drenched in a cold sweat. Blinded by the dark, I tripped and fell hard on the marble floor. “Ma’am! Ma’am!” The housekeeper, hearing the crash, rushed in with a candle. I was curled into a ball on the floor, clutching my head, shaking uncontrollably. “Don’t touch me!” Just as I felt the edges of my consciousness fraying, the front door burst open with a deafening crash. A familiar scent cut through the darkness. Adrian rushed to my side, pulling me into his arms. “Stella, don’t be scared. Don’t be scared, I’m here.” He was soaked from the storm, his clothes cold and damp, but his hands holding me were feverishly tight. It was too late. I was already lost. This was the first time I had experienced true darkness since my recovery. The memories I had locked away came flooding back in a torrent. I screamed, sobbing, my flailing hands striking his face, leaving red marks on his skin. “Get away! Don’t touch me!” The sheer terror in my eyes made him realize this was something more, something new. He scooped me up and raced to the hospital. In the hazy delirium, I felt like I was drowning. A doctor’s voice drifted in and out. “Mr. Blackwood, your fiancée has severe PTSD and nyctophobia. She must have experienced some kind of extreme trauma… Also, regarding Miss Landon… her condition is critical. If she doesn’t receive a uterine transplant soon, she’ll never be able to conceive.” It turned out Chloe had crashed her car after running from the boutique. When she woke up in the hospital, she’d had a complete breakdown and tried to kill herself. “Adrian,” she had shrieked, “if you blame me for what happened back then, then let your punishment be real! Let me pay her back for good!” The silence in my hospital room was absolute, broken only by the cold, rhythmic beeping of the machines. After a long time, Adrian sat down on the bed beside me. He gently wiped a tear from the corner of my eye and leaned down to kiss my forehead. His voice was choked with emotion. “Don’t let it be too painful for her.” I tried to force my eyes open, to fight, but my body wouldn’t respond. I was helpless as they wheeled me toward the operating room. When I felt the cold steel of the scalpel against my skin, I summoned every last ounce of strength and clamped my hand around the blade. “Ma’am, let go!” a nurse hissed in alarm. The surgeon leaned close, shouting in my ear. He listened to the frantic whispers coming from my lips, then drew in a sharp breath. “I understand,” he said quickly. “I will convey your message to Mr. Blackwood.” He rushed out of the O.R. But just as he began to explain the situation to Adrian, a nurse ran up from the other end of the hall, shouting that Chloe’s condition was deteriorating. Adrian’s furious roar was so loud I could hear it through the doors. “Every second you waste talking is another second of pain for them! Do it!” “But Mr. Blackwood, your fiancée—she’s—” “Shut up! A broken mind doesn’t need a womb! Stella has me. That’s all she’ll ever need. You say one more goddamn word and you can clear out your locker tomorrow!” The surgeon returned, his face a mask of bitter defeat. The scalpel slipped from my grasp.
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