JULIA GARRETT POV:
Aiden's performance was a masterclass in public cruelty. The whispers started instantly, a ripple of hushed judgment and pity spreading through the ballroom. Everyone saw it. Everyone saw what he was doing.
"Honestly, what does he expect?" I overheard a woman in a sequined gown whisper to her companion. "Poor Julia. She deserves so much better."
"Better?" the other woman scoffed. "She's damaged goods. He' ll probably divorce her soon and marry the little floozy. Mark my words."
"But they were so in love once," a third voice chimed in. "Remember when he saved her from that kidnapping? He was a hero."
Suddenly, Aiden' s voice, sharp and cold, sliced through the chatter. "Hero? I was a fool." He had heard them. He always heard everything. He glared at the women, then turned his venomous gaze back to me. "She was a liability, then and now. A constant reminder of how weak I was to let her be taken."
He paused, a cruel glint in his eyes. "And a constant reminder of everything I lost because of her."
His words were a punch to the gut, winded me more than any physical blow. They were meant to break me, to reduce me to tears. And for a fleeting second, the old Julia, the one who loved him, who craved his approval, almost crumbled.
But then, as if a switch flipped, a profound stillness settled over me. The pain was still there, a dull ache, but it was distant, observed, not felt. It was like watching a movie of someone else's suffering.
"That's enough, Aiden!" Ewing Daniel, Aiden's father and my father-in-law, roared. His voice, usually a low rumble, now boomed across the room, silencing the whispers.
He marched towards us, his face a thundercloud. "Control yourself, boy! You're making a spectacle of this family. It's the champagne talking, I' m sure." He tried to smooth things over, to save face, but the damage was done.
I didn't react. I didn't cry out. I didn't even flinch. I simply lowered my gaze, a silent acknowledgment of the public disgrace. This wasn' t a moment for tears. It was a moment for calculations.
Ewing looked at me, a flicker of concern in his eyes. He expected me to collapse, as I always had, into his comforting embrace. But I just stood there, unmoving, my expression blank.
"Julia, my dear," he said, his voice softening, "I am so sorry. For all of this. I will make it right. You know I always will. Whatever you need. A separate fund, a trust. Anything." He reached out, a gesture of comfort.
I simply shook my head. "There' s nothing to make right, Father. Not anymore."
He withdrew his hand, his brow furrowed in confusion. "But… after everything you' ve done for us, for this family… Ten years ago, you saved us."
Ten years ago. The Daniel family empire was crumbling, buried under a mountain of debt. My family, the Garretts, once a formidable force in real estate, were also facing ruin. The solution was an arranged marriage: my intellect, my family's remaining influence and crucial political connections, for Aiden's name and the legacy of Daniel Holdings. I walked into that marriage with my eyes open, a sacrifice for both our families. I genuinely tried to love him. I committed.
Then came the kidnapping. A rival family, the Stokes, desperate to gain an advantage in the cutthroat world of real estate, used me as leverage. Weeks of terror. Weeks of degradation. Aiden, then, had been consumed by a righteous fury. He swore revenge. He hunted down the Stokes family, systematically dismantled their empire, destroyed their associates, including the Sanders family, and ensured they lost everything. He promised me he would dedicate his life to me, to making me forget, to making me safe. He would kill for me. He would die for me.
How cheap those vows seemed now.
The whispers, the tabloid headlines, the vile rumors about what had happened to me during those weeks-they had all been erased by Aiden' s ruthless efficiency. He' d meticulously scrubbed the internet, bought out publications, intimidated anyone who dared to speak. He had used my trauma to solidify his power, to establish himself as a man not to be crossed. He rebuilt Daniel Holdings, using the wreckage of the Stokes empire to fuel his rise. But some scars, it seemed, couldn' t be erased. Especially not from Aiden' s fragile male ego.
The public speculation about my 'damage' had haunted him. He saw pity in people's eyes, and that pity, he later confessed, felt like an insult to his masculinity. He resented me for being a victim, for being a reminder of his own powerlessness, even though he had rescued me.
Then, the final blow. I found out I was pregnant. A tiny flicker of hope, a chance to rebuild, to have something pure and untainted. I was so excited. I wanted to tell Aiden, to share that fragile joy. But before I could, I overheard him in his study, on the phone.
"She's so fragile, so broken," he'd said, his voice laced with disdain. "I can't even touch her without feeling like I'm… tainting her further. She' s a constant weight around my neck."
He hadn't been talking about a business deal. He had been talking about me. His words, cold and dismissive, echoed in my ears. I felt a sharp, searing pain in my lower abdomen. The world tilted.
I lost the baby that night. My hope, my future, everything, bled out of me. The doctors were grim. "Due to the extreme stress and trauma," they said, "it' s highly unlikely you' ll ever carry a child to term again."
I remember the empty ache, the hollow space where my hope had been. I loved Aiden, even then. I tried to understand his resentment, to forgive his cruelty. I yearned for his comfort, his reassurance. But he never came. He never even looked at me.
I fell into a deep depression, my body failing, my spirit broken. Aiden eventually took me to a private clinic, a discreet place away from prying eyes. It was there, amidst the sterile white walls and the smell of antiseptic, that Ember Stokes walked back into our lives.
She was a nurse. A kind, gentle face, full of concern. She introduced herself as Ember Stokes. I remembered the name. The daughter of the man Aiden had destroyed.
"Aiden," she'd said, her voice soft, "it's been a long time. I heard about your… difficulties." Her eyes, however, weren't on Aiden. They were on me, filled with a strange, unsettling intensity.
Aiden, always the charmer, had acted surprised. "Ember? My God, I barely recognized you. What are you doing here?"
A flicker of something-triumph? malice?-crossed her face before she adopted a look of professional composure. "I'm a nurse here, Mr. Daniel. It's a small world."
