When I finally found the driver who hit my father, my husband stepped out of the passenger seat—his clothes disheveled.

While I stayed in the hospital to take care of my father, he stayed with the culprit at the police station, sitting through the investigation by her side.

When I refused to sign the settlement agreement, he grabbed his mug and hurled it at my head.

"She's a lawyer! Do you want her entire career ruined? What are you thinking?"

Calmly, I wiped the blood from my forehead and looked at him—panicked, slow to realize what he'd done.

It wasn't his first affair, but it was the one he took most seriously.

Suddenly, memories flashed through my mind—our fifth year of marriage, when he had looked at me with that easy grin.

"Sleeping with just one person for the rest of your life—don't you get bored? To be fair, I won't care what you do either.

"What I give them is sex. What I give you is love."

Later, just as he'd wanted, I ended up with the man he'd introduced to me himself.

And then he got down on his knees and begged me to come home.

***

Blood kept trickling down my face. Milton Doran, flustered, rushed over with a wad of tissues, dabbing at my wound as he frowned.

"Couldn't you at least try to dodge? Does it hurt?

"I didn't mean to. I just panicked! Deni's still young; she's got real talent. I just wanted to help her, that's all. Please, let's just put this behind us."

I brushed his hand away, my eyes unwavering. "That's my dad!"

"Oh, come on. Your dad only cares about money. If you really want what's best for him, just take the payout and let it go."

My face darkened, and I was about to reply when his phone suddenly rang.

"Mr. Doran, where are you? They've been questioning me for hours and won't even let me eat. I'm starving. I can barely stand."

Milton accidentally hit the speakerphone, and Denise Pannell's soft, aggrieved voice filled the room.

He gripped the phone tightly, worry etched across his face. "Hold on, I'll be right there!"

When he hung up, he looked straight at me. "Julia Arden, I'm giving you one last chance. Are you signing this settlement or not?"

When I gave my answer, Milton turned and walked away without looking back.

That figure, walking away from me—I'd seen it too many times.

It hadn't always been this way between us.

After graduation, I started working at Doran Group—Milton was the first trainee I ever mentored.

Back then, nobody at the company knew his true identity, not even me.

He was clever, funny, and full of energy and ambition, though he made his share of mistakes at work, and I was always the one to clean up after him.

One night at a party, he'd had too much to drink and, emboldened by the alcohol, kissed me hard. "Julia, I like you! I don't want to be just your trainee—I want to be your boyfriend. I want to be your husband!"

His breath reeked of whiskey, and somehow, it made my head spin too. Dizzy and dazed, I said yes.

By the time I learned who he really was, it was too late to run.

Milton loved me—everyone knew it. For my sake, he replaced every female employee on his office floor with men. He remembered every date that mattered to me, big or small, including my family's birthdays. Anything I liked, even if I just glanced at it, he'd quietly buy and give it to me.

People laughed at him—the powerful CEO utterly whipped by a woman. But he never cared.

No one ever imagined that this man, who once loved me so fiercely, would one day tell me he needed an open marriage.

He wasn't asking. He was announcing.

And Denise, the one who hit my dad, was the 44th lover he'd had since our wedding.

Swallowing the bitterness in my throat, I wiped Dad clean with gentle care.

He'd come all the way from our hometown just to see Milton and me, bringing bags of homemade treats.

But by the time I arrived, all I found was chaos—and Dad lying there, his face smeared with blood.

Since the accident, this was Milton's first visit to the hospital.

"Luther, you're feeling better, right?"

He set down a basket of fruit, feigning concern.

I stood up coldly and went to fetch water, refusing to stand near him.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught him exhaling in relief.

When I returned, he was gripping Dad's hand, thanking him, his eyes rimmed red as if he'd just been crying.

As soon as he saw me, he made a quick excuse about work and hurried away.

Dad, trembling, squeezed my hand, his voice weak as he spoke, "Let it go. You two just need to live your life together."

I didn't understand, thinking he'd simply noticed the tension between Milton and me.

It wasn't until I called the officer in charge of the case that I learned the truth—he sounded surprised, "Didn't you agree to settle? Your father said so himself."

A vein pulsed furiously on my forehead, and I shook with anger.

I remembered the day Milton visited, clutching his phone and pressing it to Dad's ear. Everything suddenly made sense.

The police played my Dad's recording, looking resigned. "It's his voice, and he signed the settlement. It's all legit, right? Your family is something else—one minute you want justice, the next you don't. Your husband's been running around helping the other side—"

He stopped mid-sentence. I hung my head, fists clenched tight.

Denise followed protocol and transferred the compensation to my phone. She leaned in close, smirking. "In the end, Milt just cares too much about me. I told him I had the money, but he insisted on sending it anyway."

I barely held myself back, my hand twitching upward.

"Babe!" Milton appeared out of nowhere, grabbing my hand in his own.

He shot Denise a furious glare, wedging his hand firmly into mine.

"Babe, let's go back to the hospital and see Luther."

I was about to reply when Denise protested from the side.

She pouted at Milton, "Mr. Doran, I'm too rattled to drive. Can you take me home?"

Milton hesitated for only a second before nodding to her.

I let out a bitter laugh, pulled my hand free, and walked away.

On the way, Milton texted me.

"Babe, I'll be there soon."

But night fell, and he never showed up at the hospital.

My phone kept buzzing, and not wanting to disturb Dad's rest, I stepped out into the hallway to answer.

It was Milton calling.

As soon as I picked up, I heard his breathless, urgent panting.

"Little minx, are you wearing the lingerie I bought you?"

"Of course. Top and bottom, just like you said."

"..."

The voices kept coming through the phone, each one stabbing into my heart like a needle.

I thought I'd grown numb to all this, thought I'd let go of every feeling I had for Milton. But facing it head-on, the old wounds ripped open again, and the blood came pouring out.

After Dad was discharged, he insisted on returning to our hometown. Only after I saw him off did I go back home.

When I opened the door, the dining table was still littered with days-old leftovers. Every corner of the house whispered that Milton hadn't been home in ages.

Ignoring the moldy, rotten food, I headed straight to my room to pack my bags.

But just as I reached the entryway, the door swung open from the outside.

"Who are you? How did you get into my daughter's house?"

A couple stood outside the door, luggage in tow and keys in hand.

The woman, heavyset and bristling with anger, shoved her way forward. "Speak up! If you don't, we're calling the cops!"

I met her glare with a cold smirk. "The police? Go ahead, call them. I'd love to see it. Who's your daughter, anyway? What makes you think this is her house?"

She eyed me suspiciously, then stepped outside to double-check the address. "No mistake—this is my daughter's home!"

"Honey, enough. Clearly, we've got a burglar here! Look at her, holding a gift box—must be expensive!"

Her gaze landed on the box in my hand, and she exploded, storming toward me like a tornado, her hand raised high.

Smack!

She slapped me hard across the face, her sharp nails slicing my skin.

"You filthy, shameless thief! How dare you steal the jewelry my son-in-law bought for my daughter! Do you even know who my son-in-law is? He's the CEO of Frontier Group! You think you can mess with someone like him? You must have a death wish!"

My head snapped to the side, the taste of blood filling my mouth. Before I could turn away, the man punched me in the stomach, then landed another blow square to my face.

The woman kicked over my suitcase, scattering my belongings all over the floor.

"Let's see what this little thief tried to steal from our family!"

"Don't touch my things!" I gasped for breath, blood dripping from my lips onto the floor.

"Oh, still got the nerve to shout? Honey, call security! What kind of fancy gated community can't even keep out a thief?"

"Will, just call our son-in-law. There's a break-in, and they don't even know!"

Days spent caring for Dad had left me weak and sleep-deprived, my body ravaged by illness. If it weren't for that, I wouldn't have been so helpless against their blows.

Seeing me so battered and pathetic, the couple laughed in triumph, making themselves at home as they waited for Milton. "Who bought this painting? It's hideous. Toss it!"

The man picked up the painting, his face twisted in disgust, ready to throw it out. My eyes widened in panic. "Don't!"

"You bitch, who said you could speak?" He stomped his filthy shoe across my face, grinding it in.

"Don't throw it out! I told you, I'm the real owner of this house!" I spat the words, my face numb and swollen, my voice barely intelligible.

"Ha! You must be delusional if you think you'll get rich here. You think everyone gets lucky enough to marry a CEO like my daughter did? Look at you—do you even deserve it?"

He spat a glob of phlegm onto my face.

"God, look how disgusting you are. If my son-in-law sees you like this, what a disgrace!"

He sneered, hefting the painting again. I staggered to my feet, limping after him, desperate to save it.

"You want it that badly?" He stroked his chin, a cruel smirk in his eyes.

"Down on your knees and beg me."

I clenched my teeth.

Anything... anything, if only he'd give the painting back.

But he broke his promise, raising the painting high and smashing it onto the ground.

"No!" I cried out, my voice breaking.

The protective glass shattered instantly. He picked up the canvas and ripped it to shreds.

It was Grandma's last painting before she passed, meant for her future grandson-in-law.

Grandma was a renowned artist—her paintings were priceless.

All strength left my body. I collapsed onto the floor in utter despair.

Suddenly, headlights from a car outside swept over me.

"Babe!"

Milton rushed to my side, his face etched with worry and tenderness.

The look in his eyes was full of concern, and he gently dabbed at my wounds with the sleeve of his designer shirt—worth thousands of dollars—completely unbothered by the mess.

He took me straight to the hospital. Through the entire treatment, I didn't say a single word to him, while he bombarded me with anxious questions, desperate to help.

I lay in the hospital bed with my eyes closed, trying to rest. Milton had already called our family nutritionist to prepare a meal and deliver it to the hospital that night, and he'd arranged for a team of specialists to come consult on my care.

Even the nurse at the door lingered before leaving, her face full of envy—she was probably a breath away from telling me how lucky I was.

Calmly, I pulled out my phone. "Hello, 911? I need to report an assault—"

Suddenly, a gust of wind swept through as someone snatched the phone from my hand and slammed it down, ending the call.

I looked up at Milton.

He pressed his lips together, trying to explain. "Babe, Deni's family was robbed, and it's not safe for them there. You've been staying at the hospital with your dad, so I agreed to let her parents stay in our place for now.

"And as for this so-called son-in-law they keep mentioning, it's all nonsense. I told Deni ages ago, my wife will always be you—Julia Arden. No one else. She and I are just friends, that's all. My heart belongs to you, and I'll come home! Deni was out of line. I'll make her apologize to you. As for calling the police, I don't think it's necessary, right?"

Every word he said was in defense of Denise. My hands balled into fists, and I let out a bitter laugh. "Milton, that's our home, but you let strangers walk in and out like it's nothing. What am I to you? If you care about her so much, if she's so important to you, then let's get a divorce. I'll step aside for you two."

Dad was hit by Denise, and he told me to forgive and forget.

I was humiliated by Denise's parents, and Milton still wanted me to forgive and forget!

Milton, panicked, hurried to grab my hand. "I don't want a divorce. I love you too much to ever leave you. I told you, Deni is just a friend—"

Bang! The front door flew open, cutting him off.

Denise rushed in and dropped to her knees in front of me. "Julia, it's all my fault. If you want to blame someone, blame me. Please, don't take it out on my parents—I'm begging you!"

Milton immediately moved to help her up.

"Deni, what are you doing? Don't worry. As long as I'm here, no one's going to give your parents a hard time!"

Denise threw her arms around Milton, shooting me a look full of provocation.

As she left, she claimed she was too upset to drive and insisted Milton take her home.

Denise's endless taunting finally drove me over the edge. As Milton was about to leave, I called out to him.

My eyes burned red with hatred, and I snarled through clenched teeth, "Milton, I told you—I want a divorce!"

Milton stood there, looking exhausted but unfazed. He thought I was just bluffing, rebelling like I always had. "Babe, Deni's still young; she's sensitive. Don't take her words or actions to heart. I'll drive her home and come back later."

After Milton left, I bowed my head in defeat, tears streaming down my face.

In the middle of the night, I drifted in and out of a feverish sleep, my body burning hot as I kicked off the sheets. My hand brushed against something cool, and instinctively, I tried to get closer—closer still. Before I knew it, that coolness pressed in around me, enveloping me completely. I couldn't help but cry out.

Sweat soaked the sheets, the pain in my body mixing with a strange, relentless pleasure, crashing over me in waves until the first light crept through the window.

When I finally opened my eyes, a stranger's face hovered above me. I gasped in shock.

But then, from the sofa across the room, I heard the most familiar voice in the world—

"Babe, how are you feeling? Any better? As I told you, you need to take care of your physical needs. Too bad I promised Deni I wouldn't touch any woman but her for the next six months—including you."

My whole body trembled uncontrollably, tears streaming down my face as I clenched my fists. "Did you drug me?"

Milton let out a gentle sigh. "It was just something to lighten the mood, nothing harmful. I checked.

"Besides, Deni and I use it all the time. She's never had any problems. She said your hormones are all over the place because your needs aren't being met. That's why your emotions are so up and down."

I stared at Milton, disbelief etched into every line of my face. "Do you really not care about my feelings at all? Even if I sleep with another man, it doesn't bother you?"

I searched his expression for any sign of regret.

Milton just smiled and pulled me into his arms. His eyes were filled with love, but to me, it felt like a cruel joke.

"It's fine, Babe. I told you, we're in an open marriage. We're just having fun, that's all. As long as we love each other in our hearts, that's what matters. We'll always come back home."

Milton had grown up overseas—I knew he was liberal, but I never imagined he could twist things this far.

Open marriage? What a load of crap. It was just an excuse for his own infidelity.

He dragged me down with him, just to satisfy himself, just to keep me under his control.

I looked at his face and laughed—a laugh that quickly turned wet and red-eyed, my vision blurring with the weight of a thousand disappointments, each one piling on top of the last until all that was left was utter, irreversible despair.

I stared blankly out the window.

"Babe, I've had our place cleaned top to bottom, and all the furniture replaced. Once you're better, you can move back in whenever you want!

"I'm sorry about Madam Arden's painting—I couldn't restore it, but I'm talking to experts now.

"Deni's parents had another episode after all the stress, so they can't come see you or apologize in person. I know you're generous. You'd never make things hard for them, right? So I forgave them for you. Let's just put the past behind us.

"I know you're upset. I told Deni I'll be home with you every day for a while. As long as I—"

"Who said I'm going home?" I cut him off.

He looked at me, stunned. "You're not going home? You want to stay at the hospital?"

I turned to the man who'd been hiding under the covers, listening to all the drama.

I reached out, slowly pointing at him, my eyes full of mockery as I looked at Milton. "I'm staying at his place."

Milton was too shocked to process it, frozen in place.

My eyes were empty, but I managed a bitter smile. "One night wasn't enough. Are you planning to stand there and watch me sleep with him again?"

For once, Milton's face twisted in anger.

He didn't move, just stood there, his lips trembling, unable to say a word.

Since he wouldn't leave, I ignored him.

I turned away, threw off the covers, and stared the other man straight in the eyes. I grabbed his chin and kissed him—this time, not hesitantly, but with purpose, savoring the taste of someone who wasn't Milton.

I don't know how long Milton stood there until his phone rang.

His hands shook as he answered, nearly dropping the phone.

He put it on speaker, and Denise's grating voice filled the room.

"Milt, where are you? My chest hurts. I miss you so much!"

I squeezed my eyes shut.

"I—"

"Take the call outside!" I snapped.

Milton, startled by my tone—maybe for the first time ever—hung up and left without another word, not even bothering to close the door behind him.

Luckily, he'd already rented out the whole floor, so no one else would come up.

Time crawled by. When I woke again, it was already dark.

In the shadows, I felt someone's eyes watching me.

I lay flat on my back, drained.

Staring into the void, lost in thought.

A strong arm suddenly reached toward me.

"Does it hurt?"

I turned my head away.

"Why did you agree to this?"

He looked at me, puzzled. "What?"

I didn't answer, just stared at him.

"Oh, that. I needed money," he said, flashing me a careless smile.

My voice was low as I started to get up, ready to leave the mess of a bed behind.

"Last night... was my first time," he said suddenly.

"My grandma's really sick. My parents don't want to pay for treatment. She raised me. Everyone else can give up on her, but I can't!"

His voice broke, and my body went rigid, my back to him.

I thought of that torn painting—Grandma's last work. She raised me, too. Everything about her meant the world to me.

I lowered my gaze. "Give me your phone."

"You want my number?" he asked, a little too happy, handing it over.

His lock screen was SpongeBob. I glanced at it, added his contact, and then transferred him some money.

"Is that enough for your grandma's treatment? Don't ever do this again. Get dressed and go."

When I finished washing up, he was gone.

I was about to leave when a small note on the desk caught my eye.

"My name is Tobias Radley. Thank you."

I meant to crumple it up and toss it, but somehow, I kept it in my palm—it burned like a coal, hot and alive.

I slipped it into my pocket and walked out of the hospital room.