Chapter 1

Five years of marriage, and Ethan Vance had turned our home into ninety-nine different kink rooms.

The models he brought back could easily open a packed nightclub right in our living room.

I chose to turn a blind eye to all of it, solely because of the baby growing inside my womb.

Later, he personally dressed me in a beautiful princess gown, dragged me into the hospital, and forced the doctors to shave my head bald.

All of that, just to make a sick girl smile.

I didn’t cry. I didn't make a scene.

Until the day of our anniversary, when that same girl clamored to go skiing. Ethan dragged me to the snowy slopes just to make me act as Chloe Bennett's human shield.

On the ski run, Chloe intentionally rammed into me. I was sent flying through the air, and thick, warm blood began pooling beneath my legs.

I begged him to save our child, but he merely scooped up a completely unharmed Chloe, looking down at me with pure disgust.

"Clara Sterling, the number of times you’ve lied to me is more than the times I’ve actually touched you."

"If you're hurt, call the paramedics. If you delay Chloe's treatment, don't blame me for never acknowledging that child!"

On the way to the hospital, my baby died in my womb.

While I lay in agony, Ethan allowed his friends to laughingly place bets on Snapchat on whether the kid would survive.

I closed my eyes in utter despair.

"Ethan, let's stop torturing each other. Let's get a divorce."

...

The moment the doctor shook his head, I felt something shatter completely inside me.

With trembling hands, I signed the death certificate.

Ethan's friends rushed into my hospital room one after another. Seeing my swollen, battered body, they cursed in disappointment.

"Tch! What a waste of money, I lost the bet!"

"What did I tell you? Ethan is a god. Look at how thick her coat is. She was obviously trying to protect the kid."

Hearing this, I forced a bitter smile.

With multiple fractures across my body, my abdomen was wrapped so tightly in bandages that it made me look like I was still five months pregnant.

Ethan tapped his long, slender fingers on the bedside table.

From beginning to end, he didn't spare me a single glance.

Suddenly, the door was kicked open, and a thick legal document was thrown onto my chest.

"Sign it! Name your price!"

"You’re a professional skier, Clara. You’re not fragile like Chloe. A little tumble won't kill you. Stop being so dramatic."

I looked down at the "Waiver of Liability and Injury Assessment" lying on the floor, and a hollow laugh escaped my throat.

I locked eyes with him. "Ethan, the baby is dead."

"What if I refuse to sign?"

He froze for a mere second before bursting into a mocking laugh.

"Trying to make me feel guilty now? Do you honestly think I’d fall for that? Cut the crap and sign. My sweet Chloe is still waiting for me."

I stared at him, my heart completely dead.

He had sat in this room for hours, yet he hadn't asked about my injuries even once.

He was just terrified that I would sue Chloe.

Years ago, when he realized how dangerous skiing could be, he had literally risked his life to force me to quit the national team.

Now, for Chloe's sake, he had forced his pregnant wife onto the slopes.

Ethan’s eyes turned freezing cold, flashing with impatience.

He dumped a thick stack of cash right over my head. The heavy bills pelted my face, stinging my skin.

"Is this enough? If not, I can give you more!"

My fingers tightly gripped the hospital sheets.

Through the scattering money, I saw my own pathetic reflection.

"Ethan," my voice was barely a whisper, "let's stop. Let's get a divorce."

If anyone asked what my wish was when I was twenty-two, it would have been to be entangled with Ethan Vance for the rest of my life.

But now, I was entirely numb.

Ethan’s face hardened instantly, his eyes burning with sudden fury.

"Let you leave? Only when I'm dead. You will stay and endure my wrath!"

His hand clamped down brutally on my bandaged abdomen, pressing right against my surgical wounds. A sharp scream of agony tore from my lips.

He had no idea how many steel pins had just been put into my bones. He had no idea I had almost died on the operating table.

And he had no idea our child was truly gone.

I didn't dare complain about the pain anymore.

I could never forget the last time I cried out in pain. Ethan had called me a manipulative liar.

He had swapped my severe allergy medication with vitamins, leaving me to almost suffocate to death in a stalled elevator.

"Clara, you're playing hard to get in the wrong place. If you want to leave, rip the baby out and give it to me first! If you think you can run away with my child, keep dreaming."

"If you don't dare, then crawl on your hands and knees from here to Chloe’s room to beg for her forgiveness. Only then will I forgive you."

I froze, my body feeling as though it were filled with crushed glass. Every tiny movement stabbed deep into my flesh.

As soon as he finished speaking, his friends erupted into cheers.

It was a sick contrast to the years when we loved each other so fiercely that the whole world knew.

We once shared a bond sealed by life and death.

Years ago, I had shielded him from a collapsing structure, nearly never waking up from a coma.

Ethan, who had never bowed his head to anyone, had stayed in a monastery for days, kneeling and praying until his knees bled, writing vows of love in his own blood.

But everything changed on our wedding day.

Without a single explanation, he began a silent war of torment against me.

He took the very house we had designed together and turned every inch of it into cheap kink rooms.

Stepping into my own home felt like walking into a shady motel.

He would force me to wash the toys and equipment he used with other women, making me clean up their filthy mess.

Thinking of this,

My eyes turned red as I looked at him, the physical and emotional pain completely eclipsing my sanity.

"Fine."

I didn't want to live like this for another second.

I reached out with trembling hands and unzipped my thick winter coat. When my hand brushed against a scalpel on the medical tray, he slammed the door and stormed out.

The vibration rattled my broken bones, sending a fresh wave of pain through my body.

After he left, his assistant, Austin, walked forward with a sigh.

"Mrs. Vance... Mr. Vance ordered you to go to Ms. Bennett’s room to serve her. Otherwise, he says he cannot guarantee your brother’s grave will remain untouched."