Chapter 1

A week before the trial for my mother's drunk-driving death was set to begin, I was tied up, my eyes stabbed blind, my throat slit, my eardrums pierced.

That night, all the evidence and testimony I had prepared turned into scrap paper.

I nearly broke.

My husband, Don Adrian Black, held me in his arms, gripped my hand, and taught me braille, little by little.

Back then, I couldn't see anything, couldn't hear anything. The whole world was nothing but his fingers. He wrote in my palm and told me not to be afraid.

My husband, Don Adrian Black, held me in his arms, gripped my hand, and taught me braille, little by little.

Back then, I couldn't see anything, couldn't hear anything. The whole world was nothing but his fingers. He wrote in my palm and told me not to be afraid.

A week later, I could already write out all my testimony in braille.

That trial, I thought I had won.

From that day on, Adrian took me all over the world seeking treatment.

Until the ninth drug trial, my left eye regained light.

My ears could hear sound again. I could finally speak.

I was so excited I was almost shaking. I followed the location on Adrian's phone and rushed to the hotel where he was.

But when I stood outside the private room, my raised hand froze in midair.

Laughter from men drifted through the gap in the door.

"Boss, you crippled your own wife to protect Chloe, fine, but you even taught her to read 'I will never forgive' as 'I voluntarily forgive.'"

"That day in court, a few of us down there nearly died laughing."

"The wife probably won't figure out in her lifetime that her own mother was killed by her best friend driving drunk. And she even wrote that friend a letter of forgiveness with her own hand."

The laughter was like a knife, slicing into my ears that had just regained their hearing, cut after cut.

I looked through the gap in the door.

Adrian sat in the center of the sofa, Chloe in his arms.

Chloe was once my best friend, and she had been with Adrian for five years.

Adrian looked down at her, his voice low and calm.

"The person's already dead. Can't be saved. The night it happened, I found the best doctors. I've done right by Emma."

He paused, and held Chloe tighter.

"But Chloe's been with me five years. I never gave her a proper status. That's what I owe her."

The confession in that room was like a slap across my face.

A second earlier, I'd wanted to rush in and tell him I could see, I could hear, I was almost well.

But I forced those words back down.

The door of the private room suddenly opened from the inside.

The moment everyone saw me standing at the doorway, their expressions froze.

"How did she get here?"

"She didn't hear everything we just said, did she?"

Someone quickly relaxed.

"What are you afraid of? A deaf, mute blind woman. Boss goes home, makes up a couple lines in braille, and how would she ever know?"

Everyone in the room relaxed, their eyes on me carrying undisguised contempt.

Adrian let go of Chloe and stood up from the sofa.

"Enough. We're done for tonight."

He walked over to me, took my hand, and led me downstairs.

His grip was sometimes firm, sometimes light.

This was the rule he had set for me.

A tight grip meant a step down. A lighter grip meant we were almost at the door.

Out of the bar, cold wind blew over. He draped his jacket over my shoulders.

He walked over to me, took my hand, and led me downstairs.

His grip was sometimes firm, sometimes light.

This was the rule he had set for me.

A tight grip meant a step down. A lighter grip meant we were almost at the door.

Out of the bar, cold wind blew over. He draped his jacket over my shoulders.

Like always, he opened the car door for me, helped me in, and waited until I was settled before closing it.

Adrian had always been like this.

Whether before my accident or after, he could make tenderness flawless.

In that moment, I even wished everything I had just seen and heard was fake.

But in less than five seconds, the dream ended.

Adrian opened the passenger door, lifted Chloe in his arms, and set her in the passenger seat.

He buckled her seatbelt, then took out a blanket and laid it over her legs. Every movement was tender enough to sting.

The car went to Chloe's apartment first.

Adrian got out and carried Chloe inside.

When he came back, there was a kiss mark on his neck, lipstick smeared on his lips, and a scent of perfume on him that nothing could cover.

After we got home, I picked up the braille paper and carved a line into it.

"Adrian, the day of my mother's trial, was the braille you taught me correct?"

Adrian froze for a moment, then quickly wrote back on the paper.

"Of course, honey."

"Why did you suddenly come looking for me today? Didn't I tell you I had a family obligation tonight?"

I looked up at him and laughed coldly inside.

There wasn't even a trace of guilt on his face.

"We've been married five years." Adrian took a contract out of the study and held it out to me. "Fifty percent of the company shares, transfer document. Baby, this is a gift from your husband. Sign it."

But Adrian.

If you keep saying this is a share transfer for me, why does the paper say "Transfer Agreement for All Design Works Under the Name of Emma Vale"?

Why does the transferee's line read the name Chloe Reed?

He took my hand, his tone as gentle as before.

"Remember how I taught you to sign? I'll teach you again. You should write: I voluntarily accept the share transfer."

He gripped my hand and, stroke by stroke on the paper, wrote something else entirely.

"I voluntarily transfer all works under my name to Chloe Reed."