The day I finally agreed to start treatment, Rhys’s sister told me the truth. Paige hadn’t been assaulted by my brother, Dean, the way they claimed. It had all been a calculated stage play, orchestrated with Daphne, Rhys’s childhood sweetheart. “Daphne is my best friend. She’s been in love with my brother forever, and she begged me to help her drive you away.” “That’s why I did it. I’m sorry.” I clenched my hands so hard my nails dug crescent moons into my palms. A game? Because of this “game,” my only family, my brother Dean, was forcibly institutionalized. And the very next day, he was reported as having “fallen accidentally” to his death. And for three years, Rhys had subjected me to a slow, brutal torture, a path that led me to this room, where I had just been diagnosed with terminal gastric cancer. I stared at the messages on my phone, a tear sliding down my face that was already curved into a strange, hollow smile. “Doctor, I apologize. I’ve decided not to go through with the chemotherapy.” Dean was the only soul I had left in the world, and he died because of me. Now that the lie had shattered, it was time to join him... 1 Paige, Rhys’s sister, had tracked me down at the clinic. She found me on the day I finally agreed to continue treatment. She confessed that no, she had not been assaulted by Dean. It was a scheme she and Rhys’s lifelong obsession, Daphne, had cooked up together. “Daphne’s been obsessed with my brother for years. She was terrified you’d stay in the ‘wife’ position forever, so she begged me to help her.” Paige’s voice was soft, but the words sliced into me like shards of glass. “I only wanted to help my friend. I never thought it would go this far. I’m so sorry.” I squeezed my hands tight, the sharp edges of my nails biting into the flesh. A game. But my brother had been dragged away to a psychiatric ward by Rhys. The day after, the news came: he had “accidentally fallen” to his death. And I? Rhys had kept me by his side for three years, a leash around my neck, torturing me until my body broke down and developed incurable gastric cancer. I laughed, the sound catching in my throat, and the tears finally began to fall. “Doctor, I apologize, but I’m not going to do the chemo.” Dean was all I had. And he died because I existed. Now that the truth was exposed, there was nothing left to anchor me here. It was time to go. The doctor rushed out of the exam room after me, his voice sharp with urgency. “Your condition isn’t hopeless! Stick with the chemotherapy and you have a fifty percent chance of recovery. Don’t give up!” I shook my head and kept walking. Fifty percent. What did it matter? I hadn’t wanted to live for a long time. After Dean’s death, the only thing that kept me breathing was the twisted impulse to “atone” for the crime I thought we’d committed. Now I knew there was no crime. For three years, everyone had whispered that I was nothing more than Rhys’s dog. Every night, he forced me to kneel for two full hours before I was allowed to rest. My knees were a landscape of scarred, raw, then healed, then raw again flesh. Rhys never left me alone. He dragged me everywhere to pour drinks for his clients, allowing those greasy, powerful men—men like Mr. Price—to grope me, to touch me however they wished. I’d always been allergic to alcohol. One glass, and my skin would erupt in hives, my breathing strained. He was never moved. Time and again, I was rushed to the emergency room to have my stomach pumped. I’d barely recover before he’d drag me out by the throat. “It hurts, doesn’t it? That’s the pain your brother inflicted on my sister. You need to pay it back tenfold!” ...He would take me forcibly, too. Over and over, tearing away my last shreds of dignity when I was most broken, most resistant. In three years of marriage, I had been pregnant nine times. But as soon as the test confirmed the pregnancy, he would drag me to the hospital for an immediate termination. The ninth time, the doctor looked at my deathly pale face and sighed. “My dear, if you keep this up, forget about having children. You’ll be lucky to live past thirty.” Rhys had been standing right there, a cold sneer on his face. “Whether she lives or dies is up to me.” My body was a wreck now, a fragile thing that a gust of wind could shatter. So, when the gastric cancer diagnosis came, all I felt was a profound sense of relief. Just then, Rhys’s name flashed on my screen. “Get to the hotel, now. A big deal is on the line…” I hung up before he could finish the sentence. I flagged down a cab and headed straight to Dean’s gravesite. On the ride, memories of Rhys flooded my mind. When we first met, he had been good to me. He told me he had been raised by only his sister, so he felt a natural pull to look out for me. In the winter, he’d tuck my freezing hands into the warmth of his pocket. He drove across half the city just to buy a small snack I’d mentioned offhandedly. I was moved, and naturally, I accepted his confession. But after we got together, I learned how wealthy his family was. At the time, I felt shame. I wasn’t just an orphan raised only by my brother; Dean had developed a mental illness, severe and unpredictable, after years of being tormented by local bullies while trying to protect me. I didn’t want to be a burden on Rhys. After discussing it with Dean, I made the heartbreaking decision to break up with him. But that night, Rhys knelt outside my dorm building. He stayed there, soaking wet, all night. He texted me: Rowan, I will only ever love you. If you leave me, I honestly won’t survive. In the end, I gave in. I ignored Dean’s frantic warnings and stayed with him. Now, all that was left was regret. At the cemetery, I knelt, gently tracing the outline of Dean’s face on the photo affixed to the tombstone. The tears welled up again. “Dean, I came to see you.” “Were you missing me? Don’t worry. A week from now, I’ll be here to stay.” I sniffled, my voice thick with emotion. “You were right, Dean. Rhys wasn’t the one for me. I should have listened and stayed away. Then you wouldn’t have…” A fierce cough cut off my words. A coppery sweetness welled up in my throat. I raised a hand to wipe my mouth. There was bright red blood on my palm. “See, Dean? I’m fading fast now, too. We’ll be reunited soon.” “And then, we’ll never be separated again, okay?” I sat beside the tombstone, murmuring stories to him. I cried for a long time until I had no tears left. The sky suddenly darkened, and a heavy rain began to fall. I didn’t move. I leaned against Dean’s grave, closed my eyes, and let the rainwater wash over me. My consciousness began to blur, and a searing cramp twisted my stomach. I curled into a ball on the ground, shaking uncontrollably. Just as I was about to pass out, I heard footsteps. It was Rhys. He stood over me, holding a black umbrella. His brows were tightly furrowed, and a flicker of distress—barely perceptible—crossed his eyes. It was immediately replaced by revulsion. “You think hiding here will stop me from finding you?” His voice was ice-cold. “Rowan, who are you putting on this pathetic show for?” He reached down and yanked me up. “Get up and come with me! If we miss this deal, can you afford the loss?” My face remained blank. “I told you, I won’t listen to you anymore, Rhys.” “Your sister confessed. She was never harmed by my bro—” “Shut up!” My words were cut off by his furious roar. His eyes turned vicious. “You have the audacity to mention my sister? You and your brother owe her a debt you can never repay!” “Until you’re dead, you will stay right here, by my side, being my dog and paying for your sin!” A mocking smile stretched across my lips. “Rhys, you hate me that much?” Hate me enough to wish for my death... Don’t worry. I’m dying. You won’t have to wait long. The pain in my stomach intensified violently. My vision went black, and I completely lost consciousness. When I opened my eyes, I was lying on a hotel bed. Rhys saw I was awake and sneered. “Finally awake. I thought you were planning to keep faking it.” He thought I was faking my collapse. I closed my eyes, too weak to respond. But Rhys stood up, came to the bedside, and pinched my jaw. “Don’t play dead. Mr. Price is waiting next door. Get going.” I shook my head, about to refuse. He grabbed my arm and dragged me up, forcing me step by step toward the adjoining suite. Mr. Price sat at the head of the table. His eyes lit up when he saw me. “Rhys, you finally brought her in.” He immediately reached out, wrapped an arm around my waist, and let his hand wander across my back. “Mrs. Blackwood, you didn’t get enough to drink last time, did you?” He grabbed a bottle of liquor and poured a full glass. “Come on, drink this with your ‘buddy’ Price, and the project is a sure thing.” The pungent smell of the alcohol shot into my nostrils. My stomach heaved, and I retched violently. “What’s this? The wife isn’t giving me face?” Mr. Price’s face darkened. Rhys stood nearby, his eyes cold as steel. “Drink it.” I had no choice. I took the glass and tilted my head back, forcing the liquor down. The alcohol burned, making me tremble. Mr. Price roared with laughter and poured another. “Good girl. That’s the spirit! Another one!” Glass after glass. The pain in my stomach was agonizing; I could barely sit upright. Suddenly, Rhys frowned and strode over, snatching the glass from Mr. Price’s hand. “That’s enough, Mr. Price. We’ll call it a night.” Mr. Price was stunned, then laughed. “Oh? Is Rhys getting protective?” Rhys didn’t reply. After seeing Mr. Price out, his gaze dropped to my ashen face. A flicker of something—a panic I couldn't place—crossed his eyes. “What is wrong with you?” He finally thought I wasn’t faking. Just then, the door to the suite burst open again. “Rhys, I’ve been looking all over for you.” Daphne walked in and headed straight for the couch, sitting down beside me. When she thought no one was looking, she viciously pinched my arm. The sharp, sudden pain cleared my head slightly. “Rowan, honey, what’s wrong?” Daphne asked, feigning concern. “You looked so ill a moment ago, but now you’re better? Were you trying to get out of drinking?” Rhys’s eyes darkened, but he didn’t push me further. Daphne, not missing a beat, linked her arm through Rhys’s. “Rhys, didn’t you promise to take me dress shopping today? For the wedding?” I froze. My mind went blank. Daphne turned to me, her eyes glittering with triumph. “Oh, I forgot to tell you. Rhys and I are getting married.” “We were always meant for an alliance, you know. You’re not mad, are you?” I said nothing. After a moment, a thin smile touched my lips. “Congratulations. I wish you both a happy marriage.” My voice was perfectly calm. Rhys’s face immediately fell. “Rowan, I don’t need your hollow well-wishes.” “Don’t think that once I divorce you, you’ll be free. You will stay by our side for the rest of your life. You will continue to atone.” Daphne gave a light laugh, then took my hand, her tone falsely intimate. “Rowan, you have been married once; you have experience.” “Why don’t you come wedding dress shopping with me right now? Help me pick one out?” This time, I didn’t refuse. At the bridal boutique, Daphne excitedly tried on gown after gown. When she emerged in a stunning mermaid silhouette, a flash of pure wonder crossed Rhys’s eyes. He walked over and embraced her from behind. “You’re beautiful.” They were sickeningly intimate, yet I felt no ripple of emotion. Daphne turned to me, smiling as she waved me closer. “Rowan, come over here and take a few pictures for us.” She handed me a camera. “Take lots, for memories.” I took the camera and mechanically pressed the shutter button, my face devoid of emotion. I was a robot. My utter lack of reaction seemed to infuriate Rhys. He frowned, his lips tightening. “Come here.” “Kneel down. Help Daphne put on the wedding shoes.” I remained standing. I didn’t move. “Did you not hear me?” His eyes instantly hardened. He reached out and shoved me. I stumbled and fell hard to the floor. Before I could catch my breath, Daphne laughed and tossed a pair of scarlet red heels in front of me. “Rowan, come on. See if they fit, will you?” I was completely drained of strength, lying on the floor, unable to speak. Daphne saw my state, then simply lifted her foot and placed it firmly on my back. The sharp pain forced a moan from my lips. “Rowan, why aren’t you moving?” Her voice was laced with malice. “Do you need me to beg?” I couldn’t take it anymore. I tried to push her away, to scramble to my feet. But Rhys was faster. He kicked me hard in the chest. Thud. I crashed back onto the ground. A sharp, searing pain exploded in my ribcage. I struggled to breathe. “Stay put,” Rhys warned, his voice low. “Don’t embarrass me here.” Daphne then bent down, picked up the heels, and tried them on herself. “It’s okay, Rhys. I’ll do it myself. Rowan must be exhausted.” Rhys glanced at me, then said nothing else. I don’t know how much time passed. They finally finished selecting the dress and shoes. Rhys looked down at me. “Get up. Come back with us.” I slowly picked myself up, swaying slightly. I followed them out of the boutique. We returned to the Blackwood estate. It used to be the home Rhys and I shared as husband and wife. Now, it was his and Daphne’s home. Daphne was spoiled like a princess and never had to lift a finger. I, however, had become their servant. I had to personally cook every meal. And I had to kneel while serving them dinner. Daphne seemed to relish the feeling. She constantly kissed and held Rhys in front of me. I, meanwhile, remained utterly impassive, clearing their plates. Soon, their wedding day arrived. Rhys dragged me out of bed early and took me to the hotel. The venue was magnificent. Rhys led me to the entrance of the grand ballroom, his eyes colder than ever. “When Daphne walks down the aisle later, you’ll lie on the floor.” “She will step over you on her way in.” I snapped my head up, staring at him, utterly incredulous. “What? You won’t do it?” Rhys scoffed. “Rowan, don’t you forget, you and your brother owe the Blackwood family a debt that lasts forever.” “Serving as a human stepping stone is getting off easy.” He turned and left to meet his bride. I walked to the backstage waiting area, my body numb. The pain in my stomach was a grinding, constant agony. My head began to swim. I don’t know how long I waited. I heard the strains of the wedding march begin. I knew they were starting the final rehearsal. Suddenly, the room spun. I felt myself slipping away. Without thinking, I grabbed my phone and dialed Rhys’s number. I couldn’t explain why I did it. Maybe a final, desperate thread of hope remained. But when the call connected, it wasn’t Rhys’s voice that answered. It was Daphne’s. “What? Still trying to win Rhys’s sympathy?” “I suggest you behave. My wedding with Rhys is about to officially begin. Don’t ruin this for me.” My world tilted, and I blacked out completely. At the same moment, at the ballroom entrance rehearsal, Rhys was holding Daphne’s hand, ready to walk in. He instinctively glanced at the designated spot ahead. It was empty. Where is that woman? He frowned, a sudden, inexplicable feeling of dread rising in his chest. He called his assistant over. “Where is Rowan? Go get her.” The assistant ran off, searching frantically. He returned moments later, his face white as a sheet. “Mr. Blackwood, sir, something is wrong!” “Ms. Cross collapsed backstage. There’s blood everywhere. She… she has no vital signs.”
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