The first thing Percy saw was me angry, completely out of control, the perfect villain in this carefully staged scene.
So, it was all a setup.
Before he could open his mouth, I cut in, my voice sharp, cutting through the tension. "Percy, where are all the things from the nursery?"
He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he stepped forward, positioning himself between me and Gianna, like I was the threat.
And just like that, I became the irrational, hysterical wife.
"Calm down, okay?" he said almost condescendingly. "Let’s talk this through."
'Calm down?'
I had poured my heart and soul into that nursery. I had imagined bringing our baby home to that room, rocking them to sleep, watching them take their first steps.
And now? Gone.
"Percy, I’m asking you one more time—where is everything?" I demanded, my patience fraying.
He sighed, the sound heavy with frustration. "I told the housekeeper to move everything into storage."
Storage.
It was as if my baby’s entire existence was just clutter to be packed away and forgotten.
I dropped my gaze to my belly, my fingers curling instinctively over the swell. It hit me then. It wasn’t just the nursery that was disposable. It was me.
The baby was innocent, but so were the years I had given him, the sacrifices, and how I had changed myself to fit into his world.
And for what? So he could erase me like this?
I didn’t argue. Didn’t scream. I just turned around, walked to my room, and locked the door behind me.
Somewhere in the distance, the bells for New Year’s Eve rang.
At the same time, someone knocked softly on my door.
"Brielle, come out and eat something." Percy’s voice was gentle, almost coaxing.
But I wasn’t fooled. I hadn’t eaten all day. And just then, the familiar, rich aroma of lotus root and pork rib soup drifted under the door—the kind my mother used to make.
My stomach clenched. I didn’t want to face him.
But somehow, my feet moved on their own.
Percy acted as if nothing had happened when I walked to the dining room. He piled food onto my plate and ladled soup into my bowl, playing the part of the caring husband so flawlessly, I almost could’ve believed it.
Almost.
Gianna sat across from me, her smug little smile barely hidden as she quietly ate. I had no idea what Percy was up to, but I wasn’t about to fall for his little act.
After dinner, he led me toward the floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room.
"Brielle, look," he murmured. "It’s snowing."
Outside, snowflakes drifted lazily from the sky, covering the world in an endless blanket of white.
For a brief moment, I was distracted, caught in the quiet beauty of the snowfall. And as I got distracted, he shoved me out. The cold hit me like a brick wall.
The next thing I heard was the soft click of the lock.
I spun around, my hands slamming against the glass. "You bastard! Percy! Open the damn door!"
I pounded against the window, screaming his name. But the glass was soundproof. No matter how loud I yelled, I couldn’t hear a single sound from inside.
My breath came out in harsh, visible puffs.
I was barefoot. Wearing only a short-sleeved shirt.
Negative twenty degrees.
And he locked me out.
Through the window, I could see Percy and Gianna standing together, warm and comfortable. She curled against his side, whispering something in his ear. Even though I couldn’t hear them, I could read their lips.
Gianna smirked. "Oh god, Percy, Brielle really does look like Santa Claus like this!"
He laughed. "Told you, didn’t I? With a belly that big, of course, she looks the part. Like it? This is my New Year’s gift to you."
Gianna nodded eagerly.
Then Percy turned his gaze back to me and sneered. "Well, at least all my effort playing along with her wasn’t wasted."
Then he reached out, brushing Gianna’s cheek. "Your face still hurts from when she slapped you?"
Gianna pouted, shaking her head.
And that was it.
They turned, arms linked, heading upstairs to the master bedroom.
A moment later, the automatic curtains closed.
I was nothing to him.
Not a wife. Not the mother of his child.
I'm just a nuisance to be discarded.
The cold was biting, relentless. Every breath felt like inhaling shattered glass.
I waited.
At first, I told myself he was just trying to scare me that he’d open the door soon. That he wouldn’t actually leave me out here to freeze to death.
But as the minutes ticked by, I realized he wasn’t returning.
I had to move. I forced my frozen limbs to start walking. Step by step, toward the road outside the villa.
Each step sent searing pain through my body, like icy daggers stabbing into my skull. I don’t know how long I had been walking when the numbness in my limbs turned into unbearable heat.
Burning. Suffocating.
So this... this was the final stage of hypothermia.
I swayed. My vision blurred. The world tilted. And as I collapsed—
All I could see was white.
