Chapter 1

A staged kidnapping cost me both my legs and my son.

Afraid that I’d break, my husband quit his job to stay by my side, treating me with doubled devotion.

Yet in the dead of night, he would stare blankly at our son’s picture.

I knew he blamed me for indirectly causing our boy's death.

Consumed by guilt and self-hatred, I swallowed my pain—even silently letting him bring his first love into our lives.

Until I accidentally overheard his best friend ask him:

"Back then, you paid those guys to kidnap Chloe just to break her legs and avenge Cynthia. You even ended up getting your own kid killed. Aren't you terrified she'll find out the truth and leave you?"

"She won't. Chloe's completely obsessed with me. Besides, who told her to take our boy to that amusement park without asking me first?"

"And it's not like I'm divorcing her. What more could she possibly want?"

It turns out that kidnapping was never an accident.

If he loves his precious darling that much, I'll gladly set him free.

"Cynthia has a weak heart, and Chloe stole her lead role in the ballet company. Those legs were what she owed Cynthia."

Alexander's chilling voice pierced my ears and drove straight into my heart.

Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined that losing my legs and my son...

Losing my career and my family...

Was all because five years ago, I beat Cynthia in an audition to become the company's prima ballerina.

And the man I once believed loved me with all his soul had approached me from the very start with nothing but cold, calculated revenge.

My ears rang violently as I stiffly pushed the wheels of my chair and turned away.

Right after I called my driver, I saw Cynthia, still in her stage costume, throw herself into Alexander's arms.

"Alex, did you watch my performance? Was I better than Chloe?"

She tilted her head up, whining for his praise.

Alexander draped his coat over her shoulders.

The movement was so practiced, so fluid, it felt like he had done it tens of thousands of times.

His tone was sickeningly tender.

"I saw it. You're the most flawless princess in the world, Cyn. How could she ever compare to you?"

"I've already hired a personal assistant for you and bought you a penthouse near the theater. That way, you won't have to rush around for rehearsals anymore."

Alexander had always been an absolute perfectionist.

Whenever he watched my shows, he would bluntly pick apart every tiny flaw.

He had never cared about my career, let alone arranged assistants for me.

And today, despite Cynthia making several glaring mistakes on stage, Alexander still thought she was utterly flawless.

Turns out, the difference between love and indifference was really that obvious.

The car pulled up smoothly in front of me.

I pulled my gaze away, my heart numb with a searing ache.

I knew right then that I would never crave his love ever again.

Not long after I got home, Alexander unlocked the front door.

He was carrying a takeout container of seafood pasta.

"Chloe, it’s freezing outside. I bought your favorite seafood pasta."

He carefully blew on the steaming noodles, lifting a spoonful to feed me.

"You haven't been eating properly lately. You've gotten so thin."

The heartache in his eyes didn't look fake at all.

Once, that tenderness and care had made me drown in devotion.

But now, I was wide awake.

As he leaned closer, the heavy scent of night-blooming jasmine clinging to him made my stomach churn with disgust.

I stared at the shrimp he had carefully peeled, my lips curling into a bitter, mocking smile.

"You forgot. I'm allergic to shellfish."

"The one who loved seafood pasta was Leo. If he were still alive, he’d be turning four in just a few days."

His hand jerked violently, the color draining from his face.

"I’m so sorry, Chloe... I guess I've just been missing Leo so much that my head's a mess."

"But it's been so long. We need to move on."

His grief wasn’t an act.

The way he wiped that photo frame night after night.

The keepsakes he painstakingly preserved, the strands of gray hair multiplying at his temples.

Every single piece of evidence proved how deeply he missed our son.

Yet he could never, ever hurt as much as I did.

When the kidnappers swung a metal bat to break my legs, Leo had launched his tiny body like a cannonball, shielding me with his own little frame.

He took brutal blows meant for me.

Every waking second, I wished with all my soul that the one who died had been me!

Alexander grasped my hand, his voice thick with gravel.

"Chloe, let's adopt a child."

"He looks a lot like Leo, and they're around the same age. I thought... maybe having a child around the house would help you heal."

My phone buzzed in my lap.

Cynthia had sent me a photo on SnapChat.

[My son. Doesn't he look just like Alex?]