I sat across from Harrison, my hands trembling under the table as I clenched my fists. The betrayal burned inside me like a raging fire, but I had to stay composed. I needed to hear it from him directly.
"You promised me, Harrison," I said, my voice laced with controlled anger. "We agreed—I’m not ready for a child yet. I have a future ahead of me. I’m supposed to represent our country in the pageant!"
He leaned back in his chair, swirling the whiskey in his glass with a lazy smirk. "And I found a replacement candidate for you."
His words hit me like a slap. My breath hitched as I stared at him, my pulse pounding in my ears. He didn’t even hesitate. I was nothing more than an asset to him—a tool he used and discarded at his convenience.
"You had no right," I hissed, my nails digging into my palm.
Harrison exhaled loudly, as if I was exhausting him. "The investors wanted to see an heir, Willary. A real one. They need proof of our stability, of our legacy. If I didn’t do something, they would’ve pulled out of their contracts. Do you understand what that means?"
I laughed bitterly, shaking my head. "So this was never about love. You never cared about me. You just needed a pretty face to keep your business afloat."
His silence confirmed everything.
The months that followed felt like a slow death. I watched my dreams slip through my fingers, replaced by a life I never asked for. My growing belly was a constant reminder of my captivity. Harrison used me as the face of his new pharmaceutical line, parading me around as if I were the perfect example of a glowing, expectant mother. I felt like a fraud.
Late at night, I lay awake, staring at the ceiling, trapped in a nightmare I couldn’t escape. Harrison had taken everything from me—my freedom, my dreams, my dignity. But I wouldn’t let him take my will to fight.
One evening, after another event where I had to smile for cameras while Harrison played the doting husband, I made my decision. I would leave.
I approached him in the study, my heart pounding. "I want out," I said, meeting his cold gaze. "I want to break up."
His expression didn’t change. Instead, he took a slow sip of his drink before setting it down with a quiet clink. Then, without warning, he struck me across the face.
I gasped, staggering backward, my cheek stinging from the impact. Tears welled in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall.
"You’re not going anywhere," he said, his voice chillingly calm. "You belong to me."
From that moment on, things only got worse. He barely spoke to me unless it was for appearances. He was colder, more distant, and yet, I knew he was watching my every move.
Desperate, I turned to the only person I could trust—Kristoph.
"You need to find out everything about Harrison," I whispered over the phone, my voice trembling. "I need to know what I’m dealing with."
Kristoph hesitated, but then agreed. "Be careful, Willary. He’s more dangerous than you think."
I played my role perfectly, pretending to be the obedient wife. I smiled when I needed to, dressed the way Harrison wanted, spoke only when spoken to. It was suffocating, but it kept him from suspecting anything.
And then, my moment came.
A press conference was scheduled to promote Harrison’s company. It was going to be a grand event, with reporters, investors, and media coverage. This was my chance.
Kristoph arranged everything in secret. He hired people—individuals who had been wronged by Harrison, those who had been waiting for their own moment to expose him.
On the day of the press conference, Harrison handed me a script filled with praises for his company and its "vision for the future." I smiled at him, feigning submission, and took the papers.
When we stepped onto the stage, cameras flashed, and the crowd buzzed with anticipation. I took my place beside Harrison, microphone in hand.
I was about to speak when suddenly, the doors burst open.
Shouts filled the room. Reporters scrambled, cameras pointed toward the commotion. My heart pounded as I saw a group of people holding signs, their voices echoing through the hall.
"Save Ms. Willary Frecén from a demon!"
The crowd gasped, confusion rippling through the attendees. I turned to Harrison, and for the first time, I saw something in his eyes—fear.
Then, a voice rang out, cutting through the chaos.
"Harrison killed his first wife!"
The entire room fell into stunned silence.
I felt my knees weaken, my head spinning as the words sank in.
Harrison… killed his first wife?
I turned to face him, my mouth dry, my breath shallow. His face was pale, his grip tightening around my wrist as if to stop me from reacting.
But it was too late.
The truth was finally out.
I gasped. “I...Is that true?" I whispered.
