I took a deep breath and turned around, handing him the two documents. “Please sign here. These are—”
“You were told not to bring work home. Where’s your professionalism?” Joaquin’s voice was sharp, clearly annoyed. Still, he picked up the pen. Just as he was about to sign, his phone rang.
Without a second glance, he tossed the papers to the floor.
I knelt down, struggling to gather them. Just then, he turned around and kicked me hard in the lower abdomen.
I was knocked flat on my back.
Warm liquid trickled down the inside of my thighs. I curled into myself like a wounded shrimp, trembling from the pain.
His foot came down again—this time on my injured leg.
“How could you be so vicious?!”
The pain shot through my body like lightning. He squatted down in front of me and violently grabbed my chin.
“Tell me—what did you do with my children?”
I coughed, gasping under the pressure of his tightening grip. “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about. What children?”
“Stop pretending! My twins! You kidnapped them just because I took them out for a trip, didn’t you?!”
I shook my head desperately. “No... it wasn’t me. I swear, I don’t know anything...”
That was when he noticed the blood seeping from my leg, staining the floor beneath us. His eyes narrowed dangerously, like a serpent catching the scent of prey.
“A woman as malicious as you deserves punishment.”
Before I could react, he stuffed me into the trunk of his car.
After a long, jarring ride, he dragged me into a bullfighting arena and forced me into a white dress—now stained with fresh blood from my legs and between my thighs.
Smoke billowed across the arena. Two muscular bulls were released into the pit.
I couldn’t even stand properly. My legs throbbed with unbearable pain. I looked at Joaquin with pleading eyes.
“Where did you take my children?” he asked again, cold and detached, like a judge handing down a death sentence.
My body trembled uncontrollably from fear and agony. I stared at the man I had shared a bed with for a thousand nights.
“I don’t know,” I whispered. “I really don’t know...”
He gave a chilling laugh. “Maybe you're still not scared enough.”
With that, he shoved me straight into the bullring.
The bulls caught sight of the bright red blood on my dress and instantly grew agitated, charging toward me at terrifying speed.
I had no strength to dodge. Their hooves trampled me, over and over again.
From outside the fence, Joaquin watched me with a face of stone.
As one of the bulls raised its hoof high above me, ready to strike again, I closed my eyes, accepting my fate.
And in that moment, the memories of the past three years played like a film reel in my mind.
From the beginning, this was a marriage of convenience.
To save my family, both my stepsister Cassidy and I were given marriage contracts. I reminded myself on the day I married Joaquin that this was nothing more than a transaction.
But deals were never fair.
On our wedding night, he humiliated me brutally—because his heart belonged to a woman overseas, his first love. He married me not for love, but to expand his business empire.
So I played the roles he assigned me—his personal secretary, his live-in maid.
But everything changed the day he learned his beloved first love was getting married. He got drunk and suddenly began to “pursue” me—sending 999 different gifts over 99 days, proposing over and over, lighting up the New York night sky with fireworks on my birthday.
And I let my guard down.
I fell for him.
And now, the price I’m paying was betrayal—and a man who treated my life like it’s worth nothing.
I once thought his first love's marriage meant his heart had finally moved on. I knew I could never have all his love, but I hoped we could still have an ordinary, peaceful life together.
But when did Cassidy start showing up so frequently in our lives?
From the beginning, she didn’t want to marry Bradley. She always ran to my home. She was there for nearly every major moment in my life with Joaquin. At first, I didn’t think much of it—this was a business marriage, after all.
But the truth was: they already had three-year-old twins together.
I squeezed my eyes shut. I remembered his last confession to me.
“Allison, the rest of my love in this lifetime belongs to you. It may not be much—but it’s all I have. And I’ll give it all to you.”
But when I opened my eyes again—he was glaring at me, eyes red with rage, telling me to die.
“Miss, you’ve just had a miscarriage and suffered severe trauma. It’s very likely... you may never be able to have children again.”
The doctor’s voice was soft, full of pity. But his words cut deeper than any scalpel.
I quietly wiped away my tears and turned to the dark window beside me.
I wouldn’t believe another lie.
I wouldn’t fall for another illusion.
Seven days from now, I will begin again.
