Chapter 4

The guy started a public livestream on TikTok.

"A lot of people have been asking about our past, so let me set the record straight."

"Years ago, her family was buried in debt. Her deadbeat dad was literally trying to sell her off."

"Then, her current husband stepped in and paid the money."

"You all think he was some kind of white knight saving the damsel?"

"Hell no."

"He was no different from the scumbags trying to buy her body."

"He cleared the debt just to trap her by his side."

"When she hesitated, he weaponized that money and his so-called 'kindness' to guilt-trip her. She had no choice. She was backed into a corner and forced to marry him."

"For all these years, she's desperately wanted to escape this marriage, but she was trapped."

In just a few twisted sentences, I was transformed from the man who emptied his life savings to save her into a predatory predator who bought a bride.

The comment section exploded instantly.

"Forcing a desperate girl into marriage with blood money? How is that different from human trafficking?"

"What a manipulative creep!"

"She's been suffering all this time? Sis, run and get a divorce!"

"Get the hell out of there, girl! Don't ever look back!"

"Team Claire! Divorcing him is self-defense!"

Those were the polite comments. The rest were vile, toxic slurs that felt like cold, ruthless hands tightening around my throat.

I drew in a sharp, painful breath, overwhelmed by a mix of bitter disappointment and raw fury.

Even though I had prepared myself mentally, the urge to confront Claire burned inside me.

If this marriage was such an agonizing prison to them, and if I had become the villain who tore two soulmates apart, then what were all those years when I gave up everything to shield her from the gutter?

Even if she didn't love me, even if she had never loved me for a single second...

Those were real years of our lives. How could she let another man spin it into an abusive hostage situation?

I went downstairs and walked into the parking garage.

Over the past five years, my conscience was entirely clear.

From pulling her off that curb to paying off every last cent of her family's debt.

When she agreed to marry me, it was the fastest, most decisive answer she had ever given.

I thought it was love.

Now I realized it was just her way of paying an invoice.

I drove to my office building.

I still had some personal files and gear left in my cubicle to clear out.

The moment I stepped out of the elevator onto my floor, a suffocating, chemical burning smell hit my nostrils.

The very next second, the building's fire alarms blared violently.

At the far end of the corridor, bright orange flames were already licking the ceiling, and thick, black smoke rushed toward me like a tidal wave.

I spun around to run for the stairwell, but the heavy fire door had already been engulfed in heavy smoke and jammed shut.

A wall of blistering heat slammed into me.

I choked, coughing uncontrollably, my vision blurring into black and grey.

My phone slipped from my sweaty palm. I dropped to my knees, snatched it up, and instinctively dialed Claire's number.

It rang several agonizing times before connecting.

Claire's impatient, irritated voice cut through the static:

"Are you seriously doing this right now? I'm in the middle of work!"

Click.

She hung up.

I let out a ragged, self-mocking laugh.

What a pathetic fool I was.

In what felt like the final moments of my life, I actually thought I had something left to say to her.

None of it mattered anymore.

Just as my consciousness began to slip away into the dark...

Someone started bashing through the emergency exit. The noise sounded muffled, like it was coming from underwater.

"Anyone in there?! Can you hear me?!"

"Hang on! Fire Department! We're breaking through!"

Before darkness swallowed me whole, the last image that flashed through my mind was Claire standing under that umbrella.

Sheltered safely in another man's arms.

Claire was the first person notified.

The ER staff pulled my emergency contact from the system and finally got through to her around 8:00 PM.

The phone rang three times before someone picked up. But it wasn't Claire.

It was that stranger's smug voice:

"Hello? Claire's busy right now."

"Whatever it is, tell me. I'm her husband."