Just because I'd upset my husband's beloved girl, he shipped me off to a deserted island called Noman's Land for repentance.

The name made it sound empty, but it wasn't. It was called that because it was isolated.

And the people there? They weren't human. They were monsters.

My husband told them to "teach me a good lesson."

So from the very day I got there, I became the lowest slave. By day, I was beaten and cursed. By night, I endured humiliation beyond imagination.

The kitchen maid would whip me just because I wasn't moving fast enough.

The bar girls said I was too prim, so they stripped me naked and threw me into the arms of the visitors, letting them do whatever they wanted to me.

Even the lowly janitor who cleaned the toilets could burst into my room at midnight and force himself on me.

Then one day, the island's guard suddenly stormed in.

Just as I automatically began undressing, he shouted, "Mr. Courtenay's here to get you! You're free to go!"

I froze, my hands pausing mid-motion. Three years had passed, and now, finally, he'd remembered me.

But it was too late... There was no going back.

Before I could process his words, the guard leaned in close and hissed, "When you get back, keep your mouth shut tight.

"Everyone on this island has power and connections. You wouldn't want people to find out what you'd been through for the past three years, right?

"So whatever you're not supposed to say—don't. Keeping this secret is best for everyone."

I lowered my head, not daring to say a word.

His warning was unnecessary—what could I possibly do other than obey orders?

I followed him to the shore with my head bowed, too afraid to even glance around.

Then, a familiar voice sounded next to me. "Faustina, still haven't learned your lesson?

"You won't even speak when you see me?

"Are you resenting me for dumping you here?"

It was my husband, Langston Courtenay.

Sensing the fury simmering in his tone, I rushed to explain. "Mr. Courtenay, it's not like that...

"I don't blame you. I don't. It was my fault.

"Thank you for coming to get me, Mr. Courtenay..."

As Langston's face darkened like a gathering storm, my voice trailed off into a whisper.

His lips parted, but in the end, he said nothing, turning abruptly and boarding the yacht.

I hurried after him, terrified that the slightest delay might leave me stranded here forever.

Once aboard, I stood timidly to the side, not daring to sit.

Langston seemed uninterested in talking to me. He just lounged on the sofa with his eyes shut, drifting into rest.

Only then did I steal a glance at him.

I'd loved Langston for twenty years, and we'd been married for five.

We'd known each other since childhood. Our grandfathers had arranged our engagement when we were just kids.

From my earliest memories, I'd followed him around like a devoted puppy.

I'd always believed we were destined to be husband and wife.

And I'd thought he felt the same.

Five years ago, a tragic car accident took my parents from me.

To comfort me in my grief, Langston's grandfather hastily arranged our wedding.

But soon after, I discovered Langston had a girlfriend he cherished deeply called Taliyah Holden. They'd broken up because his grandfather had promised him to me.

Because of that, Langston hated my guts.

Three years ago, when Taliyah complained that I'd made her unhappy, Langston exiled me to Noman's Land to "reflect" on my sins.

The memory stung, tears welling up in my eyes, threatening to spill over.

After what felt like an eternity, the yacht finally docked. Our driver, Gavin Schmidt, waited on the shore.

Spotting us, Gavin swung open the back door, ready for us to climb in.

Langston ignored me entirely and slid into the seat.

I stood frozen, unsure what to do.

"This... am I supposed to sit with Mr. Courtenay? That doesn't seem proper, does it?"

My words ignited Langston's rage. He stormed out of the car and kicked me hard, sending me sprawling.

"You think this is some kind of game?

"If you've got a grudge, spit it out! Stop putting on this pitiful, wronged act!

"All the way here, you've been like a ghost—who's done you wrong, huh?"

Ignoring the searing pain ripping through my body, I scrambled to my feet, bowing repeatedly in apology.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, forgive me.

"Mr. Courtenay, please don't be angry. I'll get in right now.

"Don't get upset because of me; it's my fault, all my fault."

Langston shot me a venomous glare before settling back into the car. Terrified of sparking another outburst, I slipped in beside him.

Confusion swirled in my mind. Wasn't this what he wanted—to break me, to make me obedient?

Now that I'd learned my lesson, why did he seem even more displeased?

Gavin drove us straight home.

The moment we arrived, Taliyah's syrupy voice slithered into my ears.

"Oh, look who's back.

"It's been ages. Ms. Hewitt, you look absolutely wrecked.

"Lanny, when you went to fetch her, why didn't you bring her something decent to wear? If anyone sees her like this, they'll think you're mistreating your own wife."

As she spoke, Taliyah casually looped her arm through Langston's.

She was wearing a silk robe, her hair loosely pinned up, her face bare yet glowing.

She looked more like the lady of the house than I ever did.

I glanced down at myself.

When Langston had dumped me on Noman's Land, he'd left me with nothing.

For three years, I'd scavenged cast-off rags from others.

Now I looked no better than a beggar off the street.

Seeing my silence, Langston's rage flared again, and he yelled, "Faustina, what the hell are you pulling now?

"Tally's talking to you—why don't you answer?

"You think you're still the pampered princess of the Hewitt family? Or do you think being my wife gives you the right to ignore everyone?"

As he spoke, he raised his hand to strike me.

Three years on that island had trained my body to react in such a situation.

I dropped instantly, curling in on myself, shaking uncontrollably.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry... I know I was wrong!

"Please don't hit me—I won't do it again.

"I'm begging you... please, don't hit me..."

I figured that if I just admitted my mistakes, Langston would let it slide. After all, even on Noman's Land, those monsters would ease up once I begged for mercy.

When I'd cry and plead, they'd stand there cackling like hyenas, but at least they'd stop the beatings.

But Langston didn't stop.

If anything, my bedding seemed to fuel his rage even more. He lunged forward, yanking me up from the floor with a brutal grip.

"Faustina! Are you deaf or something?

"I told you to cut the act, damn it—why are you still pulling this crap? What's with this pathetic, woe-is-me routine?

"Three years gone, and you're still as revolting as ever!"

Before I could get a word out, Taliyah stepped in, blocking him.

"Oh, come on, Lanny, ease up—don't be so rough.

"You just don't get women, do you? Ms. Hewitt's been away for years; she's probably hoping you'll show her a little tenderness.

"Honestly, it's on you. I told you I should leave, but you insisted I stay. Ms. Hewitt must be unhappy seeing me here, which is why she's behaving like this."

Langston released me with a scoff, his laugh cold and cutting.

"How dare she? Compared to you, she's nothing.

"If it weren't for her meddling, you'd be the one wearing my ring as Mrs. Courtenay.

"And now she has the nerve to get jealous over you? Guess those years didn't teach her a damn thing."

Terror gripped me—I was petrified he'd ship me back to that hellish Noman's Land.

Maybe it was my downcast eyes and submissive posture that pleased Taliyah, or perhaps Langston's blatant favoritism stroked her ego, but surprisingly, she spoke up for me.

Taliyah waved a hand dismissively, putting on a mask of faux compassion.

"Alright, Lanny, don't waste your anger on her—it's not worth it.

"She's come such a long way—she must be exhausted. Let her rest.

"Having her linger here will just irritate you and make things awkward."

Seeing me still sprawled motionless on the floor, Langston was about to erupt again.

Taliyah, with a soft, patronizing giggle, chuckled, "Oh, how careless of me.

"It's been years since she's been back. Ms. Hewitt probably doesn't even know where she's supposed to stay.

"Why don't we let her stay in the guest room downstairs for now? I'll sort something out in a couple of days."

My heart clenched tight.

Langston was my husband, yet here he stood, glued to another woman's side.

This was my home, but apparently, there wasn't even a room for me.

That night, lying on the unfamiliar bed, I felt dazed.

During those three years on Noman's Land, at Langston's command, I'd been the island's most wretched slave.

I scarfed down spoiled scraps for meals and slept on a rickety wooden plank that passed for a bed.

Once, after a particularly savage assault, the flimsy board finally gave way under the frenzy.

From then on, I huddled on the cold, unforgiving concrete floor.

It had been so long since I'd slept in a proper bed that I had nearly forgotten how soft and how wonderfully warm a real mattress felt.

Just as I was drifting in that fragile comfort, a metallic taste rose in my throat.

I bolted upright, scrambling toward the bathroom.

The sheets and comforter were pristine white and spotless—if I soiled them, Langston would erupt in fury.

But it was too late.

Just as I reached the bathroom door, my legs buckled, and I crumpled to my knees. The nausea I'd been suppressing exploded from my throat.

I couldn't hold it back any longer—a torrent of blood gushed out in a violent spray.

The crash echoed loudly. The maid, Hilda Morris, heard the commotion and burst through the guest room door.

The sight inside horrified her; she rushed over, helping me up with frantic hands.

"Mrs. Courtenay! Oh, dear Lord—what happened?

"Why are you vomiting blood? Are you hurt? We need to get you to the hospital right away.

"But Mr. Courtenay just left with Ms. Holden—oh, Gavin's still here. Hold on, I'll call him now."

I wanted to stop her, but my body wouldn't obey. Darkness closed in before I could speak.

When I came to, I was in a hospital bed, with only Gavin by my side.

Seeing me stir, he dashed out to fetch the doctor.

The doctor regarded me with a grave expression.

"Are you aware of your condition?"

His words left me dazed.

Aware? I suppose I was, in a way.

For the past six months, my body had been in constant pain. I would often cough up blood for no reason.

But honestly, I had no clue what was causing it.

On Noman's Land, I was the lowliest slave—no one gave a damn if I lived or died.

Even though there were doctors on the island, I had no right to see him.

Didn't get my answer; the doctor turned to Gavin.

"Are you her family?

"Her condition is complicated; I need to discuss the details with her family.

"Please come to my office."

I raised a weak hand, halting him.

"He's not family, and I don't have any.

"I know my own body. This isn't the first time this has happened.

"So, just tell me straight, Doctor. I can handle it."

With a heavy sigh, the doctor softened his voice.

"Your organs are failing badly.

"You've been in agony, unable to sleep, haven't you? The blood—that's from the organ failure too.

"You've let this drag on far too long. If you'd come sooner..."

I cut him off mid-sentence.

"Doctor, please—just give it to me straight. How much time do I have? I can take it."

Surprised by my calm, he hesitated but finally replied.

"Your heart is the worst—it's failing irreversibly.

"In your current state..."

He paused, then whispered, "You've got about a month left, at most."

After the doctor left, a look of panic crossed Gavin's face.

"Mrs. Courtenay, the doctor mentioned you have several old injuries.

"And your overall health... it's not good.

"We really should tell Mr. Courtenay about this."

Gavin had worked for Langston long before I was sent away.

So, he knew all too well the mess between Langston and me.

I shook my head, forcing a faint smile.

"Gavin, I've never treated you unfairly before, have I? Please, just do me a favor.

"Don't tell him about today, okay? Pretend we were never here.

"I just... I want to live quietly for what time I have left. Please."

I'd been poked and prodded at the hospital all night. By the time we left, it was already noon the next day.

The doctor tried to convince me to stay admitted, but I refused.

I only had a month left, and I wasn't about to waste it trapped in that sterile, sunless prison.

Soon, Gavin drove me back home. When I walked in, I spotted Langston and Taliyah perched rigidly on the living room sofa, the air thick with tension.

Langston's face simmered with barely contained fury.

"Gavin, you're getting ballsy, aren't you?

"Who are you working for? You disappear the whole morning. If you don't want the job, just quit.

"Have I been too lenient, making you think you can just ignore me?"

His words were aimed at Gavin on the surface, but every barb was meant for me.

I could endure Langston's wrath, but I couldn't drag others down with me.

Despite the terror churning inside, I fought back the tremors and stammered, "Don't blame him—it's my fault.

"I needed help with something last night, so I asked him to take me out.

"Please don't be mad, Mr. Courtenay. It won't happen again..."

Langston's expression darkened with every word, and my voice grew smaller and weaker.

Taliyah's perky tone chimed in right on cue.

"Looks like Ms. Hewitt got a bit too lonely during those three years on Noman's Land, huh?

"Out all night with another man? How scandalous. You couldn't even wait, could you?

"We barely left, and you go running off with someone else. It's hard not to wonder what you were really up to."

Gavin, true to his promise to keep my secret, didn't defend himself. He stood there, pale as a ghost.

Langston's expression grew stormier, and somehow, the horrors of those three years flooded back, crashing over me like a tidal wave.

I collapsed to the floor, my body quaking as I wrapped my arms around Langston's leg in a pitiful embrace.

"Mr. Courtenay, please, don't be angry...

"It's all my fault, every single thing. I won't dare do it again.

"I won't step out anymore, I swear, never again!"

Before Langston could respond, Taliyah's mocking laughter sliced through the air.

"My, my, such tears! So Gavin really is your secret lover, Ms. Hewitt?

"You're crying so hard, all to protect him?

"Come on, Ms. Hewitt, that's just not cool. At least on paper, you're still Lanny's wife..."

Every word Taliyah spoke was a deliberate provocation, a knife twist. Langston finally snapped. He drove his foot into my side with ferocious force.

Since being brought back from Noman's Land yesterday, I hadn't rested at all. My body was already too weak to bear another blow.

This blow from Langston crashed into me with bone-jarring force.

I tumbled sideways, my lower back slamming against the sharp corner of the sofa leg.

A white-hot surge of pain ripped through me. I couldn't even haul myself up, just huddled there on the cold floor, my lips murmuring endlessly in a broken litany.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry... I was wrong. It's all my fault."

Langston still wasn't satisfied. His chest rose and fell with rage as if words alone couldn't express his fury.

Just then, Hilda rushed out, stepping in front of me like a desperate shield.

"Mr. Courtenay, please, calm down. You've misunderstood Mrs. Courtenay!

"She was sick last night—she coughed up a lot of blood. You and Ms. Holden were out, and I didn't know what to do, so I called Gavin.

"You can't hit her again, sir, or she might not survive it."

Langston's expression froze for a second.

"Vomiting blood?"

Panic surged—I couldn't let him probe deeper. Gritting my teeth against the throbbing agony, I forced out an explanation.

"It's just a cold. I was running a fever and felt dizzy yesterday.

"That wasn't blood from vomiting; I bit my tongue when I tripped, that's all. Nothing like what you're thinking.

"Hilda heard the thud and rushed in. Spotting the blood, she freaked out and assumed the worst."

To my astonishment, Langston actually seemed to exhale in relief at my words.

Taliyah slid over to his side, curling her arm around his.

"Ms. Hewitt, really, you should've said that earlier.

"You've only just come back—if something happened to you, what would we do?

"You don't mind, do you, Ms. Hewitt?"

I didn't respond, merely shaking my head softly.

With my days numbered so short, what was there left to mind?

Deep in my soul, I murmured silently, "Langston, I'm on the brink of death.

"If you found out, would it bring a smile to your face?"

One afternoon, as I lay resting in my room, Langston burst through the door like a tempest.

He threw a garment onto my bed, his voice dripping with annoyance and impatience.

"Tomorrow's my grandpa's eightieth—you're tagging along with me.

"Try that on; check the fit. If it's off, tell Hilda.

"It's a huge deal, so ditch that zombie vibe and perk up."

I stared at the slinky backless mermaid dress sprawled across the sheets, and my stomach sank.

Three brutal years on Noman's Land had left my body covered in scars. I couldn't bear to let anyone see them.

"Do I have to go?" I asked carefully.

"My cold's still lingering; I could pass it to Sir Courtenay.

"Why not have Ms. Holden join you instead..."

My plea shattered whatever thin veneer of patience he had left.

He lunged, fingers digging into my chin like vices, silencing me mid-sentence.

"I'm not asking you, Faustina. I'm telling you," he hissed.

"You think I dragged you out of that godforsaken pit for fun? I brought you back solely for tomorrow, to parade you in front of my grandpa."

"It's his milestone bash. He hasn't seen you in three years; I can't hide it from him any longer.

Only then did I understand—he hadn't rescued me out of guilt or affection. I was just a tool, an accessory he needed to appease his family.

His grandfather, Adamson Courtenay, and mine had been lifelong friends, building vast business empires side by side.

They'd long dreamed of merging the clans through marriage, but since both of them had sons, they'd decided to bind their legacies through their grandchildren.

Sensing Langston's boiling temper, I averted my eyes and whispered meekly, "Mr. Courtenay, please don't get upset.

"I understand. I'll be there on time."

The next evening, Gavin chauffeured me to the opulent Courtena's mansion.

The guest list brimmed with blue-blooded elites from society's upper echelons.

Adamson's eightieth was a spectacle of grandeur, orchestrated by the Courtenays with lavish flair.

Before alighting, I fussed meticulously over my long-sleeved gown, double-checking that every scar remained veiled from prying eyes.

After Langston's departure yesterday, I'd pleaded my ongoing cold to Hilda, coaxing her into exchanging it for this more modest, full-length dress.

No sooner had my feet touched the ground than Adamson shuffled forward on his cane, his face alight with unbridled delight.

"Tina, my dear, you're back at last!

"Lanny's been telling me you were overseas, never bringing you by to see me. The boy's been downright inconsiderate.

"I've missed you something fierce. Promise you'll drop in often from now on."

I steadied Adamson's arm with gentle care, nodding in sweet compliance.

Langston, standing beside us, seemed satisfied with my performance. At least, he wasn't wearing that terrifying scowl I'd come to dread.

All through the evening's festivities, I glided elegantly in the wake of Adamson and Langston, trading cordial banter and warm greetings with the assembled dignitaries.

Those harrowing years on Noman's Land had schooled me not just in enduring torment but in the art of charm—now, I could navigate any noble or tycoon with effortless grace.

Miraculously, the night unfolded without a hitch. As it neared its close, I let out a quiet sigh of relief.

But just then, a sharp pain twisted through my abdomen, cutting through me like a knife.

I pressed my hand against my stomach, trying to steady myself, but the pain only worsened.

Langston caught the shift in my demeanor, drawing me near under the pretense of an affectionate arm link, his words a gritted snarl.

"I don't care how much you hate me—you'll keep that smile on your face.

"The party's wrapping up.

"If you dare botch this, I'll make you wish you were dead."

His savage threat fueled my resolve; I battled the shudders and the gut-wrenching spasms, mustering every scrap of willpower to stand tall at the entrance, bidding farewell to departing guests with forced poise.

Roughly an hour later, the event drew to its final curtain.

By then, my dress was soaked with cold sweat, my legs barely holding me up.

The instant I sank into the car, my strength evaporated, and I slumped against the back seat, my breath coming in ragged, heaving gasps.

My collapse ignited Langston's ire anew. He snatched a fistful of my hair, wrenching my head up to lock eyes with his blazing glare.

"So that's it?

"You can laugh and flirt with everyone else, but not me?

"You'd rather die than sit beside me, is that it?"

Dread clawed at me. I choked back sobs, pleading in a strangled voice, "No, no... Mr. Courtenay, you've misunderstood.

"It's the cold—I forgot my medication today, and I'm feeling wretched."

"It's not about you, truly. Please, let me be. I beg you, have mercy."

I'd hoped my supplication would soothe him, but it backfired spectacularly.

His grip tightened, pulling a cry from my throat.

His voice dropped to an icy whisper, "Faustina, haven't I warned you? This phony victim act of yours disgusts me to my core.

"Don't act innocent with me. You didn't seem this fragile when you were chasing after me.

"But now that you're Mrs. Courtenay, suddenly you're weak? How convenient."

His fury simmered unchecked all the way home; upon arrival, he yanked me by the hair, hauling me straight from the vehicle like discarded trash.

Gavin moved to intervene, but I halted him with a desperate glance.

Langston spotted our silent exchange. His eyes darkened, and with a violent jerk, he pulled me toward the storage room and threw me inside.

"Tally was right," he snarled. "You're heartless.

"You must've thrived in those Noman's Land years, didn't you? Your whorish antics disgust me.

"Faustina, why the hell aren't you dead already?"

With that, he slammed the storage door with a thunderous bang. As his footsteps faded, my world dissolved into an oppressive, echoing silence.

Though the searing pain wracking my body hadn't eased one bit, knowing Langston had finally left still brought me a fleeting sense of relief.

I lay sprawled on the frigid floor, my vision blurring into a hazy fog. In that delirious haze, my mind drifted back to Langston when we were children.

The first time we met, I was four. Back then, Langston's father, Enrique Courtenay, had brought him to our home for a visit.

I was utterly spoiled by my parents in those days, a little tyrant ruling our household.

But there was one indulgence my mother staunchly denied me: sweets.

Like any kid, I craved candy with a passion, but my overindulgence had led to a mouthful of cavities. So, my mom drew a hard line—no extra treats.

That afternoon, I hid in the garden, sobbing quietly to myself.

Six-year-old Langston, upon learning the cause of my tears, slipped stealthily into the house. A while later, he reappeared before me. When he extended his hand, two creamy toffees nestled sweetly in his palm.

That day, Enrique watched us with a teasing grin and quipped, "My old man always talked about tying our families together with a marriage.

"Frazier and I are both guys, so that ship sailed. But looking at Tina and Lanny now—they seem like a perfect match.

"How about we betroth these two little ones?"

I didn't grasp a word, tilting my head in confusion toward my mom. She scooped me up with a warm laugh, pointing at Langston as she asked, "Tina, sweetie, do you like Lanny?

"Being betrothed means you two will be together forever, just like me and Daddy.

"What do you think, hmm?"

Following her finger, I gazed at Langston, my mind drifting back to those two delectable candies.

My thoughts were simple then: if I stuck with this boy, I'd have an endless supply of sweet delights.

With that in mind, I nodded vigorously.

From that moment on, I became Langston's devoted shadow.

We navigated elementary school, middle school, high school, and college side by side—we were inseparable.

Time flies so swiftly; the boy I'd watched every day had blossomed into this towering man.

Yet time also crawls agonizingly slow. The boy I adored, over those endless years, had fallen deeply for another girl.

His venomous words from earlier echoed in my mind.

He'd snarled, "Faustina, why the hell aren't you dead already?"

A bitter smile tugged at my lips as I thought, "Langston, hold your horses—I'm on my way out soon enough."

Those hours—or was it days?—in the storage room blurred into a foggy stupor.

Sharp jolts of pain would yank me back to awareness now and then. But as they ebbed, I'd slip into a heavy, dreamless slumber once more.

It felt like I'd been entombed here for an eternity.

Just when I resigned myself to dying in this forgotten corner, the door creaked open.

Langston stood in the doorway, light framing him from behind. He looked down at me with haughty disdain.

"I've only locked you up for two days. What's with this pathetic charade?

"Get your ass up! My grandpa wants us over for dinner.

"Didn't you hear me, Faustina? I said, get up!"

I longed to respond, but after two full days without food or water, my strength had utterly deserted me.

Langston strode forward, delivering a vicious kick.

"What the hell are you playing at? This place is a palace compared to Noman's Land!

"Snap out of it and stand up! Cut the drama!

"Faustina, don't test my patience!"

I gathered what little resolve I had left, mustering the energy to speak.

But as my lips parted, a thick, metallic sludge oozed out, trickling down my chin with a pungent tang.

Stunned, I looked down.

Red bloomed across my chest, spreading in dark, vivid petals.

"Faustina!"

Langston's voice exploded like thunder in my ears.

I lifted my head weakly. The arrogance that had filled his face moments ago was gone, replaced by panic—raw, unguarded panic.

For a split second, I almost believed he was genuinely worried about me.

But I dismissed it instantly. He must be fretting over how to explain my death to Adamson.

Or perhaps he just found me repulsive, spewing blood and soiling his pristine home.

My mind swirled in chaos. Before I could untangle the thoughts, warm arms enveloped me in an unexpected embrace.

The warmth of his chest pressed against me, so close, so real, that I almost laughed.

It had to be a dream. Of course it was.

A faint smile curved my lips as I opened my eyes, eager to glimpse this phantom Langston.

"Lanny, don't worry—I won't bother you anymore.

"I'm about to die."

"What did you just say?!"