Five years ago, my entire family opposed my marriage to Dominic Thorne.
My parents refused to let me marry a penniless nobody with no family background.
Grandmother tried gentle persuasion, warning me that in this world, only money never changes. Promises, no matter how sincere, fade with time—dissolving into nothing but empty bubbles.
I ignored them all and eloped with Dominic anyway.
Grandmother's blood pressure spiked so severely she nearly died.
Yet I was too afraid to visit her—terrified they'd lock me away and keep me from seeing Dominic.
I laughed bitterly and slapped myself hard across the face.
I sat motionless by the bed for an entire day and night before Dominic finally came home at five in the afternoon.
He carried a pot of steaming chicken soup, nuzzling his face against my neck.
"Had to pull an all-nighter at the construction site. It was so sudden I didn't get a chance to explain. My darling wife won't hold it against me, will she?"
I shook my head calmly, pulling away from his touch.
The cloying sweetness of perfume clinging to him made my stomach turn.
Satisfied that I wasn't angry, Dominic let out a long breath of relief.
He poured a bowl of the fragrant soup, blowing on it to cool it down before lifting it to my lips.
"Now that we have a baby on the way, we need to be extra careful about everything. You need proper nutrition."
My eyes fixed on the faint red marks peeking out from beneath his collar. I let out a silent, scornful laugh and took the soup.
His eyes curved into crescents, filled with anticipation.
"Is it good?"
I rested my hand on my belly and answered softly.
"It's good."
Love spilled from Dominic's eyes—but in that moment, I couldn't tell how much of it was real.
If he knew that the lie he'd told to reunite with his first love had killed his child...
Would he even grieve?
Night deepened. Fireworks bloomed brilliant outside the window.
Dominic took my hand, his other arm hovering protectively over my stomach.
"It's Valentine's Day. Let's go for a walk."
I shot him an amused glance.
"Not busy today?"
The first Valentine's Day after the bankruptcy, I scrubbed greasy dishes in a restaurant kitchen, worrying about rent—while he accompanied Clementine on shopping sprees across the city.
The second Valentine's Day, debt collectors cornered me in my cramped rental. They broke my wrist. He was with Clementine, chasing the Northern Lights in Norway.
The third Valentine's Day, I'd finally scraped together some money from delivery runs and bought discounted steaks for a candlelit dinner at home. He spent the night learning to cook Clementine's favorite foie gras from a Michelin chef. He never came home.
...
Dominic finally had time for me now.
But I no longer wanted it.
A cool breeze stirred my hair as Dominic led me through a narrow alley.
From deep within came a girl's piercing scream.
Dominic's spine went rigid. We both recognized that voice.
Clementine.
He dropped my hand instinctively and sprinted into the darkness.
I patted my pockets, cursing myself for forgetting my keys. I had no choice but to follow.
Clementine cowered in a corner, tears glistening in her eyes. Dominic's expression turned savage as he threw a punch that sent a man stumbling backward.
He was like a man possessed—each blow harder than the last, his voice trembling with barely contained rage.
"Who gave you the nerve to touch her?"
I didn't miss the flash of triumph in Clementine's eyes.
She preened like a proud peacock, showing off the massive diamond on her ring finger and the latest Hermès bag draped over her arm.
None of that mattered to me.
My nails dug deep into my palms. My gaze locked onto the jade pendant hanging at Clementine's throat.
My mother's favorite necklace.
I still remembered exactly how much it sold for—three million dollars.
The startup capital for Dominic's first business.
