"Raymond Sanchez, unless you make Bella Vance suffer so much she'd rather be dead, there is no future for us."
Elisa Long left those words behind like a curse before fleeing the country.
And I—blind, trusting fool that I was—became the weapon Raymond used to win back his beauty's heart.
He drew me in. Made me fall desperately, hopelessly in love. Then he dismantled me, piece by piece. Again and again, he orchestrated my ruin, painting me as a slut the world could spit on, driving me to the edge of madness until I was nothing more than a hollow shell drowning in clinical depression.
When I attempted suicide for the hundredth time, he finally got what he'd been waiting for: the return of the woman he actually loved.
Upon hearing news of my pathetic death, he offered only a smile to the media cameras. "I thank my ex-wife. Her sacrifice fulfilled our love."
I had smiled bitterly then, closing my eyes, waiting for my consciousness to scatter into nothing.
But a cold voice cut through the darkness.
"Bella Vance, are you truly willing to die like this?"
——
*I am not.*
Why do those who trample on sincere hearts get their happy ending while those who love with purity are condemned to die?
My eyes snapped open.
White light flooded my vision, forcing my hand up to shield my face. Through the gaps between my fingers—familiar decor. The master bedroom.
My head turned toward the mirror. Twenty-five years old. The makeup was flawless, an exquisite mask that couldn't quite hide the exhaustion carved into my features.
I had been reborn.
Today was the day. Raymond was going to take me to a business banquet. He would force me to drink drugged wine, arrange for me to be found in a hotel room with a stranger, and expose my "adultery" to the world.
Steady, rhythmic footsteps echoed from the hallway.
The door swung open. Raymond entered, tall and imposing, bending to press a kiss to the crown of my head.
"Bella, are you ready?"
That gaze—so gentle it could drown a person. In my past life, I had willingly let those waters consume me, oblivious to the fact that I was swimming toward my own damnation.
"Raymond."
"Hm?" One brow arched. His fingers toyed idly with a strand of my hair.
"Let's get a divorce."
The smile on his face froze. The temperature in the room seemed to plummet.
"What did you say?"
"I said, I want a divorce."
He stared at me for a long moment, searching my face. Then a low chuckle escaped him.
"Bella, is this some kind of joke? Everyone in River City knows I value you more than my own life. If anyone were to divorce, surely it wouldn't be us?"
A pink diamond necklace emerged from his pocket. He moved to fasten it around my neck himself.
His cologne—once my favorite scent in the world—now sent bile surging up my throat.
"Raymond, I don't want a marriage that's perfect on the surface but rotten at the core."
"Bella, are you being sensitive again? I've told you, I don't care about those rumors. Why can't you just let it go?"
After the first time he'd plotted against me—leaving me to lose my virginity to a stranger—I had felt too filthy to let him touch me. The guilt had been suffocating.
He'd played the understanding husband beautifully, agreeing to abstain from intimacy.
Today, I wanted to test how far his acting could stretch.
"If you really love me, then prove it."
I held his gaze. Leaned in.
As my lips drew closer, his body betrayed him. He flinched—an instinctive, uncontrollable recoil.
I shoved him away and scoffed.
"See that, Raymond? That is your 'love.'"
"I want a divorce!"
Caught off guard, he stumbled backward. The undisguised contempt in my eyes cracked his mask wide open, and rage flooded in to fill the fractures.
"Bella Vance, do you know what you're saying? Divorce? Without me, what are you? You're the daughter of a notorious homewrecker, a bastard your own biological father won't acknowledge! You're nothing but—"
There it was.
His truth.
It only took a little provocation for the venom to spill out.
In my previous life, I had been blind, my heart clouded by foolish devotion.
"You're right. I am nothing."
"So let's part ways. We can both go find our own happiness."
I grabbed the suitcase I'd already packed, turned on my heel, and walked toward the door.
