Kael knew every weakness I carried. He knew about my asthma. He knew heat could trigger an attack. He knew how the dark suffocated me with fear.
And once—he used to care.
I could still remember the day I was trapped inside the elevator at his company’s skyscraper. The lights had cut out, the air turning heavy and stifling. My lungs locked up, and panic consumed me. I was spiraling, unable to breathe.
He hadn’t hesitated back then. He broke protocol, shouted at his staff to reroute emergency power immediately. The moment the doors opened, he was there, pulling me into his arms, rocking me as he murmured, “You’re safe, I promise. I’m here. Nothing will ever harm you while I’m around.”
But those promises were empty.
Because now? He had thrown me into the basement. A suffocating hole that smelled of rust and damp mold. No windows. No light. Nothing but endless shadows swallowing me alive.
And all of this—because of her.
My throat was raw as I screamed his name. Again. Again. Louder. Desperate.
But only my own voice came back, warped and cruel in the echo of the stone walls. No one came. No one answered.
My chest tightened.
I curled into myself on the cold floor, tears streaking my face as I whispered into the void, “How… how did we fall this far? Did I really let myself believe you cared for me?”
Maybe that was my greatest mistake—believing in Kael at all.
Because the truth was deafening now: I had never been his choice. Just a contract, a convenient signature on paper. And the moment Cassia walked back into his life, I became disposable.
Suddenly, my lungs seized.
I gasped for air, clawing at my chest as heat wrapped around me like a noose. My breathing grew shallow, jagged. My throat tightened like it was closing off.
“Asthma…” I wheezed. “P-please…”
I crawled forward, dragging myself across the floor toward the stairs, my fingers grasping blindly for the door. “Help… someone…”
Nothing. No footsteps. No voice. Only the ringing roar in my ears and the crushing weight in my chest.
Then everything faded to black.
—
When I woke again, the first thing I heard was the steady beep of a monitor. The smell of antiseptic burned in my nose. The light above was dim, but it wasn’t darkness. I tried to move, but every part of my body ached as though I had been trampled.
“You’re awake.” A nurse appeared at my side. Her tone was soft, though her eyes carried hesitation. “Please, don’t push yourself, Miss Amara. You’ve got bruising, insect bites… and your breathing is still unstable.”
My lips were cracked. “Wh-where am I?”
“In a private hospital,” she explained. “You were discovered unconscious in a basement. Brought here by… I believe, a household butler.”
I blinked slowly. “Not… Kael?”
She shook her head. “No. No visits. No calls.”
My heart fractured into pieces.
He had left me there to die.
That was it. That was the breaking point. No more waiting. No more hoping for something that never existed.
Later that afternoon, I booked the first available flight to Germany—the same country where I had sent my brother, praying for the day he’d wake up. Then I forced myself to eat, to take my medicine, to shower even with the IV still taped to my skin.
If I didn’t care for myself, no one would.
That night, wrapped in a hospital blanket, I distracted myself by scrolling through my phone. That’s when the video appeared.
An auction.
Kael, standing beside Cassia, bidding outrageous amounts on anything her eyes lingered on. Cassia laughed sweetly, leaning to kiss his cheek as if the world belonged to them.
Comments flashed under the clip:
“He’s definitely her sugar daddy.”
“No, look at them—they’re practically married.”
“Wait… isn’t that Kael Smith?”
“Is she his real wife?”
My stomach twisted painfully.
We were never public. Kael always said it was to protect me. “The press is cruel,” he used to claim. “They’ll tear you apart.”
But the truth hit me like a blade. I was never supposed to be acknowledged. I had only ever been a secret—someone to fill his bed and legal obligations—until Cassia reclaimed her throne.
My phone slipped from my hand. I buried my face into the pillow. No tears came. I was past them. My heart was too numb. I closed my eyes and whispered to myself: ten more days. Just survive ten more days.
I thought exhaustion would shield me. That sleep might dull the pain.
I was wrong.
I woke to heat searing my skin, pressing mercilessly against my ribs. It was too much, scorching, unbearable.
“Ahhh!” I shrieked, bolting upright.
My eyes snapped open.
And there she was. Cassia. At the foot of my hospital bed. Holding a heating pad, pressing it against my side with a cruel little smirk.
“Oops,” she sang, tilting her head. “Too warm for your fragile lungs?”
I recoiled, trying to twist away, but she clicked her tongue and leaned closer, her smile dripping poison.
“Still clinging to life, I see. But really, what’s the point?” Her eyes glittered with malice. “Do you want to keep dragging this out? Or would you rather just die already, so I can finally have Kael without your pathetic shadow in the way?”
