Chapter 3

I walked out of the hospital into a gust of cold wind.

That was when my phone lit up. A message from my former business partner, Adam Cole.

"Have you thought any more about joining the studio? The team flies to Miami tomorrow. There's still time to book a ticket."

Adam wasn't just my former partner.

He was also the Don of the Cole family in Miami.

Compared to Daniel, Adam's reach was broader and his methods far more ruthless. His name carried enough weight across the East Coast and the South to silence a room. The studio was one of the Cole family's few completely clean, legitimate ventures, and I had been involved in its early planning stages.

This wasn't the first time he had invited me.

I had actually been tempted before, but Daniel talked me out of it.

He said: "Miami is so far away. If you go, we'd practically be living apart. Emma, I can't bear to be without you. Stay. For me. Please?"

My parents chimed in too: "We spent all those years raising you. When we get sick or need to go to the hospital, we can't do without you. How could you just leave two old people behind?"

Even Mark mustered the patience to persuade me: "Mom and Dad are getting older. Their health isn't great. I'm too busy with work, so a lot of times it all falls on you. Think of it as your brother asking you a favor. Please don't go."

I went soft. And I had just found out I was pregnant, so I shelved the idea of leaving.

Over the years, the fertility treatments had drained every cent I had. I thought I was sacrificing for this family. I never imagined it would become the very thing they used to keep me trapped.

Thinking of what my father had just said, "She has no job, no money. She'll come crawling back," I opened my chat with Adam and typed three words:

"Book the ticket."

Five minutes later, Adam sent the flight confirmation.

I saved the screenshot and went home to pack.

When I pushed open the door, I noticed a pair of pink slippers on the shoe rack that hadn't been there before. On the living room coffee table, my favorite yellow roses had been replaced with peonies. In the bathroom, my usual bar of soap had been tucked away inside the cabinet.

A text from Daniel explained everything.

"Lily will be staying at our place after she's discharged. It'll be easier to take care of her."

I didn't reply. I just turned off my phone and dragged out a large suitcase.

There was too much stuff. Most of it was from when Daniel and I were dating.

The matching mugs we had made together at a ceramics studio. The couple's shirts we bought on a trip. Hundreds of photos from when we were in love.

I threw the mugs and the clothes into the trash. The photos I set on the stove burner and burned, one by one.

Halfway through, Daniel's voice came from behind me.

"What are you doing?"

He saw what was in my hand and his face changed instantly.

"You burned them all?"

I said flatly: "Too much stuff. It was taking up space."

He stared at me in disbelief.

I pulled a divorce agreement from the inner pocket of my suitcase and held it out to him.

"I've already signed. All that's missing is your signature."

I expected him to sign his name without hesitation.

Instead, he barely glanced at it before tossing it into the fire.

The pages curled, blackened, and turned to ash.

"Who said I wanted a divorce?"

A blaze of fury shot through my chest.

"What is that supposed to mean? I'm willing to let you go. Why are you dragging me into this?"

He didn't get angry. If anything, his voice softened.

"Emma, we've always been happy together. Haven't we? Can you really bear to leave me?"

It felt like swallowing a shard of glass.

Happy?

His version of happiness was built on my suffering and his lies. He betrayed me, tricked me into giving up my own child, and now he wanted me to stay in this house, keep playing the role of his wife, keep maintaining the Hayes family's respectable facade.