Chapter 1

The night I was kidnapped and my child was ripped from inside me without mercy, my husband was busy watching a concert. With her.

Carson Langford told me he was in Seoul for an investor summit. In reality, he was front row at the Dusk Republic concert, arms wrapped around his HR director Madison Lightewood, whispering into her neck, laughing like he hadn’t just left his pregnant wife behind.

And me? I was strapped to a bloodstained hospital bed in some rotting underground room, screaming for a daughter who would never take her first breath.

I woke up hollow. Flat. Sterilized.

My baby was gone. My body mutilated.

And when Carson walked in, clean suit, crisp lie, fake concern… I understood the truth:

He didn’t save me. He sent them.

He chose Madison. Chose legacy. Chose a son.

Because daughters, he said, were too weak to carry the Langford name.

"It had to be done," I overheard him tell Oliver. "Madison’s pregnant with my heir. Abigail? She was just... convenient."

That’s when I stopped crying. And started planning. I picked up the burner phone I swore I’d never use again. Called the one man Carson couldn’t buy, couldn’t tame, couldn’t kill.

“I’ll marry you,” I told him, “but only if you help me burn Carson Langford and his entire empire to the ground.”

--

Carson my husband told me he had a business trip out of town, some urgent summit with investors in Seoul. He kissed my forehead, rubbed my four-month belly, and promised he'd make it up to me.

“Three days, babe. I’ll be back before you miss me.”

I didn’t plan to go to the Dusk Republic concert. But the baby loved music. So I went. Alone and didn’t tell him.

I was even smiling when the camera panned across the crowd. Big screen. Full HD. Then I saw him.

Carson Langford… And he wasn't alone.

His arms were wrapped around someone. A woman with sleek hair and a crimson dress that clung to her like second skin.

Madison Lightewood. His HR Director. The same Madison who once laughed and said, "Relax, I'm not into married men."

The screen caught them mid-laugh, her head thrown back, his lips grazing her neck.

My lungs forgot how to breathe.

Then Madison spotted the camera. Her smile faltered. Carson turned. The moment he recognized the lens, he grabbed her by the wrist and ducked. Out of frame. Like a criminal. Like a guilty man who knew he’d just been caught.

My hands were shaking.

No, no, no.

It’s not what it looked like. It couldn’t be. Maybe, it's his look alike?

I stepped out of the crowd, fumbling for my phone. Dialed him. Once. No answer. Twice. Straight to voicemail. Third time, he picked up.

"Can't talk, babe. In a meeting. Important clients," he said, “I'll call you later.”

Click.

Meeting? I stared at the screen. The call log. The timestamp. The lie.

Tears blurred everything. Lights, faces, the stupid neon sign blinking FOREVER LOVE behind the stage.

I left. I don’t even remember walking. Just the sound of my flat shoes clicking against wet pavement, the rain soaking through my dress, down to my bones. I didn’t use an umbrella. I didn’t care.

The betrayal kept playing in my mind.

On loop.

Carson’s arms around her. The way he held her like he once held me.

By the time I reached our mansion gate, I was trembling. Drenched. Ruined.

My hand reached for the intercom when someone grabbed me from behind.

I winced but it's too late. A black SUV screeched beside me. A door swung open. Hands, rough and gloved, pulled me inside. I kicked, I fought, but the door slammed shut and everything went black.

***

When I woke up... My head was pounding. My mouth tasted like rusted metal and anesthesia then I reached for my stomach.

Flat. Hollow.

No baby bump. No heartbeat.

Just aching emptiness.

My wrists were strapped to the cold bed rails. My thighs were sticky with blood. Dried. Crusted. Like the violence had happened hours ago.

I blinked through the blur. The room was dim, filthy. Concrete walls. No windows. Just shadows and the stench from the far corner.

Then I saw it.

A garbage bin. Black. Lid half open and inside… something pale. Small.

A curled limb.

A tiny hand.

No.

No, no, no.

My throat cracked from the scream. I thrashed, yanked at the restraints, sobbing until my ribs splintered. That’s when the door opened.

The doctor walked in like nothing was wrong. His gloves was still on and his gown stained.

“We had to take it out,” he said calmly. “Too risky to let a girl Langford grow.”

I couldn’t even form words. My chest caved inward. My soul felt like it was trying to claw its way out of my body.

Then, another door swung open.

Carson.

“HECK!” he breathed when he saw me. “I’ve been trying to reach you for hours, your phone was off. I just landed from Singapore.”

He rushed to me, eyes wide with practiced concern after he shot the Doctor. He then cupped my face. Kissed my bloodstained forehead like we were lovers, like this was some tragedy the world had done to us.

“It's okay,” he whispered. “You're safe now. I'm here. We’ll get through this.”

I stared at him. Then past him. At the bin.

At the child I carried for four months. The daughter who had a name. A heartbeat. A future.

And I saw it clearly.

He wasn’t my rescue.

He was my executioner.

---

I don’t know how long I was under. Days? Weeks? But when I finally stirred, groggy from morphine and grief, I heard voices outside my room.

Two men. Carson and his right-hand man, Oliver.

Their backs were turned. They didn’t know I was awake. They didn’t know I heard everything.

“You’re freaking insane, Carson,” Oliver muttered. “You were laughing at a concert with Madison while your wife was bleeding out in a rotting room. You even paid a doctor to kill her daughter."

I froze.

My ears rang.

Carson’s voice came cold. Unshaken. “It had to be done. Madison’s pregnant now with my son. I never wanted a daughter with her in the first place. Weak. Can’t be my heir.”

My vision swam. My heart cracked.

“I needed a boy,” he went on. “Langford bloodline deserves a firstborn strong enough to catch my grandfather’s eye. The old man made it clear: no boys, no legacy. He built a billion-worth empire from nothing. Said any girl born first should be put down.”

“You’re out of your mind,” Oliver whispered. “You didn’t have to sterilize her, Carson. You didn’t have to gut her future.”

“I didn’t need more complications,” Carson said, like he was talking about business deals, not my body. “Madison and I... what we had was real, long before she ran. I’m building my future with her, not some orphan I pitied enough to mess up.”

Orphan. That’s what I was to him. Just another charity case. A woman he used to clean up his mess, patch his wounds, and be the ‘wife’ on paper.

Oliver’s voice turned low. Careful. “What if Abigail sees the video? You and Madison. Live concert. Cozy as heck."

Carson laughed. “She’s madly in love with me. She won’t believe it. I’ll tell her it’s a deepfake. She’s desperate to belong. Always was.” Then softer, with venom: “Besides, I don’t care if she saw it. She’s only my wife because Grandpa likes her. Old man never forgot she saved him when he collapsed that night in the hotel lobby. He wanted her in the family. That’s the only reason I married her.”

My body went cold.

So that was it.

He chose Madison. Choose a son. Choose a legacy. And I was just the necessary placeholder, good enough to wear the ring, never enough to be loved.

He killed our daughter because she didn’t fit his plans.

---

When the door shut, I sat up like a woman possessed.

I ripped the IV out. My hands were shaking. Blood soaked through the sheets. I didn’t care.

I held my stomach and cried until I couldn’t cry anymore. My baby, my daughter, was gone. Erased like she never mattered.

I picked up my burner phone and dialed a number I hadn’t touched in two years.

Chapter 2

It rang once.

Then a voice I hadn’t heard in too long answered, velvet and lethal. “Well, well. Look who finally crawled back. To what do I owe the pleasure, bella mia?”

“I’ll marry you,” I whispered, swallowing the last of my pride, “but only if you help me burn Carson Langford and his entire empire to the round.”

There was a pause. Then a low chuckle. “Ah, revenge and a wedding. My two favorite things. When should I pick you up?”

“Six days,” I said. “I’ve got some ghosts to bury first.”

I hung up, tossed the phone on the bed, and looked in the mirror. The woman staring back at me wasn’t broken. She was just getting started.

And Carson? He taught me everything I needed to know to end him.

***

Carson didn’t come home that night.

I didn’t sleep. I couldn’t.

The pain from the surgery throbbed like a slow, cruel heartbeat. My chance to give birth was gone. My baby was gone. And I couldn’t stop crying, no matter how hard I bit my lip or screamed into the sheets.

But by sunrise, the tears had dried. So had my heart. I lay there like stone while the doctor came in for vitals, clipboard in hand like he wasn’t part of the crime.

“How are you feeling, Mrs. Langford?”

I stared at the ceiling, “Can I leave now?”

He blinked, surprised. “I, uh, I’ll sort out the discharge.”

I didn’t need rest. I didn’t need sympathy. I needed revenge. Then I called a lawyer I found through a burner number.

“I’d like to file for a divorce,” I said, no emotion.

“Understood. I’ll send the digital forms. You’ll get the official papers in three days.”

I hung up.

A few minutes later, the doctor came back, this time with Carson’s driver.

“Mr. Langford asked me to bring you home, ma’am,” the driver said, awkwardly avoiding my gaze. “He’s cooking your favorite meal.”

I almost laughed. That man didn’t even know what I liked.

Still, I nodded. “Sure. Let’s go.”

***

The mansion was just as I left it was cold, spotless, soulless. Not a single frame out of place, not a speck of dust to suggest anything had ever truly lived here. But it was the scene in the living room that stopped me dead.

Madison.

Reclined like a queen on my couch, in a blood-red designer dress that clung to her baby bump. Her manicured fingers curled around a glass of wine, legs crossed like she owned the place.

And beside her, preening and fussing over her shoulder like a proud mother hen, was my mother-in-law: the same woman who once told me I should be grateful her son "lowered himself" to marry an orphan with “no breeding.”

My throat clenched. My body froze.

Madison looked up with a sugar-sweet smile.

“Oh, you're finally here, Abigail...”

My mother-in-law’s voice cracked through the air like a whip. “Why she even here? She has no place in this family. She’s a nobody. I never understood why my son didn’t throw her barren self out years ago.”

I clenched my fists until my nails broke skin. But I didn’t answer. I had heard worse. From worse.

I turned for the stairs.

I was halfway up when the sharp pain shot through my scalp.

“AH—!”

My head snapped back as she yanked my hair viciously. I stumbled, nearly falling. Then came the slap. Sharp, ringing, the ring on her hand slicing across my cheek like a blade.

“Ungrateful woman,” she snarled. “Can’t even say hello? You forget your manners while you terminated your freaking child?”

My vision blurred but not with tears. With rage.

I slowly turned, blood dripping from my cheek, and looked her dead in the eye.

“Why don’t you ask your son?” I said, my voice low, shaking. “Ask Carson why my daughter died!”

The room froze. Madison’s smile faltered. My mother-in-law’s eyes narrowed, uncertain.

“Ask him,” I said, louder now, “while he was busy watching a concert with his mistress. While he was kissing her in public. While he was ordering men to kill my baby girl, for her.”

Madison went pale. My mother-in-law blinked, lips parting ever so slightly. The silence stretched.

Then the hand came again. This one cracked across my face like thunder.

“Stop accusing my son for your incompetence,” she spat. “You couldn’t even protect your own child. You were never fit to be a mother.”

I staggered back.

And then—

“Enough, Ma.”

Carson’s voice cut through the venom.

He stepped into the room wearing an apron, wiping his hands like a man who’d been prepping dinner instead of orchestrating bloodshed. A wooden spoon dangled casually from his fingers.

“Leave my wife alone,” he said.

He turned to me, reaching for my face like nothing had happened in the last twenty-four hours. Like I hadn’t learned what he’d done.

“How are you feeling, babe?”

I pulled back like his touch burned. The man who used to feel like home now smelled like poison.

“Abigail,” he said sternly. “Apologize. To my mother. And to Madison. What kind of manners are those?”

I let out a laugh, dry and bitter as smoke.

“What are they doing here?”

“She always talks to you like that?” his mother snapped.

Madison gave a sigh, ever the martyr.

“I should go. I don’t want to be the reason you two fight.”

That’s when I heard the little voice.

“Daddy? Why is that lady yelling?”

I turned slowly toward the hallway and saw her.

A girl. Maybe four. Curly dark hair. Carson’s eyes. Carson’s dimples. My lungs collapsed inward. My legs nearly buckled.

“Who is she?” I whispered.

Carson didn’t miss a beat. "Madison’s daughter is from her late husband. She’s a widow now. She’s also my HR director, and they’re moving in since the mansion is too big for just the two of us. She’s pregnant and she can’t stay alone."

“And call you Daddy? Wow.”

He shrugged. “She’s just confused. She likes it. I don’t want to upset her.”

I just laughed. Now I see it clearly. That child was his daughter with Madison. But when I was pregnant with a girl, he killed her without mercy and still had the audacity to act like a saint.

He walked toward the dining table, uncovering a steaming bowl of seafood.

“I made your favorite.”

The scent hit me like a wave of poison. Shellfish. I was allergic. Deathly. Five years of marriage, and he didn’t remember.

Or maybe he did.

My stomach twisted. I doubled over and vomited right there on the marble floor.

Madison recoiled. “Oh my God, Abigail,” she exclaimed. “You could’ve just said you wanted me gone. Did you really have to vomit on me and my daughter?”

Chapter 3

I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, glaring up at her. “You’re ten feet away. Don’t flatter yourself.”

Carson’s hand clamped around my arm like iron. He yanked me down, dragging me to my knees.

“You want to act like trash?” he hissed, eyes flat and soulless. “Then get on the floor where trash belongs.” His face was inches from mine. “Apologize,” he said, voice trembling with rage. “Right now. Or I’ll make you taste that vomit off the tile like the dog you’re acting like.”

“You should’ve killed me too, Carson. Because now? I have nothing left to lose.”

But Madison whimpered behind him, clutching her stomach. “Carson, I feel dizzy… I think it’s the smell. I can’t… I think I’m gonna faint.”

Without another word, he ran to her and swooped her into his arms like I didn’t exist.

“Clean that up!” he barked over his shoulder as he disappeared into the hallway with his real family.

His mother hissed at me as she followed.

I wiped my face, cleaned up the mess like a good little wife, then went upstairs.

---

Our bedroom looked like a crime scene.

Five years I’d slept beside that man. Trusted him. Loved him.

I sat on the bed and pulled open a drawer. Inside was a sealed envelope, the resignation form I’d written weeks ago, back when I still believed in the future. When I thought giving birth meant stepping away from the family business and building something peaceful.

Now I had nothing but fire left.

I packed the form with the upcoming divorce papers and began tearing down the photos on the wall. Our wedding, trips to Italy, our first home. All lies. All poisoned. I threw every necklace, every bracelet, every ring he ever gave me into a box.

That’s when the door opened.

Carson stepped inside and froze.

“What is going on?” he asked, eyes narrowing.

I didn’t even flinch. “I don’t want any of it. I’m giving them away.”

“Is this about what happened downstairs?” he asked, stepping closer. “I didn’t mean to lose it. I’ll get you better gifts. I just… I need you to try with Madison. She’s my friend and trusted HR.”

I looked up at him. “Okay.”

“She’s staying, Abigail. Like it or not. I’ll tell her to come up and smooth things over.”

He kissed my cheek, because I wouldn’t give him my lips, and walked out like everything was solved.

---

Ten minutes later, Madison strutted into my room.

She looked around like she already owned the place.

“Good. Get all your mess out. I’ll be moving in soon.”

I didn’t look up. “Take it all. I won’t be here long.”

She laughed, smug and triumphant. “Carson told me everything. Want to hear a little secret I’ve kept for four years? My daughter is his. I was the other woman… but not anymore. I’m done playing mistress. I’m carrying his son now, so guess what? He doesn’t need you. He gave you a chance, but you blew it and got pregnant with a girl. So, yeah… sorry your baby girl died. But she was never part of the plan.”

I sat down on the bed, quiet. “I see you're proud. Enjoy it. If my pain makes you happy, soak it in.”

Her smile faltered. She stared at me. “Why aren’t you mad? You should be breaking things! Screaming!” she hissed. “Carson did this to you because I asked him to!”

I met her gaze, steady. “Then congrats. You win. He’s all yours.”

She snapped. “You pathetic woman!” she screamed and lunged for me, grabbing my wrist.

“Get your hands off me,” I warned.

But she yanked harder and dragged me toward the hallway. Then she screamed.

“Abigail, no—!”

And threw herself down the stairs. I heard the thud, the scream, the crash. Then came running footsteps.

Carson. His mother. His daughter.

They froze at the bottom of the staircase, Madison sprawled in a pool of blood, unmoving.

Carson’s eyes lifted to mine, red and wild. “What on earth did you do?!”

I stood frozen at the top of the stairs, my hand still gripping the rail, heart pounding like a war drum. Madison’s body was crumpled at the bottom, silent, unmoving. It wasn’t the fall that broke me. It was Kira’s scream.

“Mommy!”

Her tiny hands were shaking her, sobbing so hard her body trembled.

Then Carson turned to me. Those cold black eyes, the ones that used to promise protection, were now a loaded weapon aimed at my throat.

“If she dies or the baby, you better pray darkness takes you in fast,” he said, voice like ice cracking. Then he picked her up like some hero in a messed-up story, David clutching his side, sobbing.

His mother didn’t spare a second before spitting at me. “Rot in misery, you cursed woman!”

No one asked me what happened. No one even looked me in the eye. That’s the power Madison had. She snapped her fingers and they all saw me as the villain.

I stayed there. On the stairs. Frozen.

Until two of Carson’s guards barged in like I was a prisoner of war. They didn’t say a word. Just grabbed me, yanked my arms behind my back and dragged me out like trash.

“What the heck are you doing?! Let me go!” I screamed.

But screaming means nothing when you’re married to the king of misery.

They shoved me into one of Carson’s black SUVs, the kind used to dump bodies in rivers. And when we pulled up, I realized we were at his private clinic, the one where they cover up his crimes with cash and bullets.

The second I was hauled inside, Carson was there.

“Carson! What is this? I didn’t touch her. I swear—”

The slap came so fast my head snapped sideways. Metallic warmth filled my mouth. Blood.

He leaned in, eyes blazing with hatred. “I’m done playing games with you. You’ll donate your blood to Madison. You pushed her, now you’ll save her.”

I coughed, wiped my lip, and glared up at him with every last piece of pride I had left. “I didn’t push her. And she’s not getting a drop from me.”

That was the last straw.

His hand was around my throat in a flash, squeezing the breath from my lungs. I clawed at him, wheezing, desperate.

“Breathe… I—Carson—please—” I exclaimed, legs kicking.

“Enough, Mr. Langford!” the doctor shouted. “She’ll die!”

Chapter 4

He let go. I collapsed, struggling, my vision spinning.

“You’re not off the hook,” he muttered, then turned to the doctor. “Drain her. All of it. Leave just enough to keep her alive.”

The doctor hesitated. “Sir, her vitals aren’t stable. She’s not strong enough after what happened yesterday. The blood bank—”

Carson grabbed him by the throat and shoved him hard against the wall. “I said drain her. You work for me, not the Red Cross.”

The doctor didn’t argue after that. His men held me down as they jabbed a needle in. I felt the blood leaving, slowly. Cold, dizzy, fading.

And then… darkness.

---

I woke to a bucket of ice water crashing down on me. Struggling for air, soaked, shaking. My head was heavy. My vision was blurry.

“Get up!” Carson snapped.

I tried to stand but my knees buckled and I hit the floor hard. He grabbed me by the hair, yanking me up like a rag doll. I cried out.

“Carson! Stop, please! I’m cold—” I begged.

“You think I care?” he barked. “You think I don’t know what you did?”

I stared at him, confused. “What are you talking about?”

“You had someone kidnap my daughter!” he shouted in my face. “Kira is missing! And while you’re here pretending to be dying, your dogs are out trying to get revenge.”

I laughed. I couldn’t help it. It was ugly and broken.

“You really just said that to me,” I whispered. “You really said your daughter. The same kid you had while married to me.”

He sneered. “Madison is the mother of my children. You knew about her. You just didn’t like being second place.”

“And you think I’d hurt a child?” I snapped. “Did you remember what innocence meant when my baby died in that garbage bin?”

He didn’t flinch.

“Spare me the drama. I’ve got proof.”

His men dragged in a skinny, bruised man who looked like he hadn’t eaten in a week.

“She paid me,” he sobbed, pointing at me. “She said take the kid… kill him if you have to. I didn’t know he was yours, boss. Please, don’t kill me.”

I stared. “I’ve never seen this man in my life.”

“You never stop lying, do you?!” Carson yelled. He grabbed my arm so hard I felt something pop. “You’ll confess or you’ll pay,” he growled.

“I didn’t do anything.”

Next thing I knew, we were on the jet. His private one. The kind people only board once when they cross him. He didn’t say a word for the first hour. Then suddenly, two thousand feet up, he stood, unlocked the door, and yanked it open. Wind howled inside.

“Last chance,” he said, voice like death. “Say you did it.”

My heart slammed against my ribs. “Carson, I didn’t! Please, close the door!”

He smirked. “You always said you were scared of heights.” He stepped closer.

“Carson. Carson, please!”

He leaned in. “Then scream for me, sweetheart.”

And with a shove… I was falling.

The roar of the sky swallowed my scream.

***

I woke up screaming.

My throat was raw, my hands flailing as if I was still falling, still reaching for something that never caught me.

Then everything snapped into focus.

The white ceiling. The sharp scent of antiseptic. The steady beep of a monitor beside me.

I was in a hospital.

“You’re safe now, Mrs. Langford,” the doctor said softly beside me, but I barely registered him.

Because I wasn’t alone.

Carson stood near the door, arms crossed, cold as ever. Madison was curled up in a chair beside my bed, fake tears glistening on her lashes. And of course, his mother, the Queen of Darkness herself, stood with her nose in the air like the place reeked of me.

“How are you feeling?” Madison asked gently, her voice trembling.

I ignored her and turned to the doctor. “What happened?”

Before he could speak, Carson stepped forward, jaw tight with rage. “What happened?” he scoffed. “Madison saved your life, that’s what. I shoved you, yeah, and she, this angel you hate, threatened to blow her head off if I didn’t grab you before you hit the ground. So I did. And you still passed out. She hasn’t slept in two days, watching over you. And this is how you repay her?”

I laughed. A bitter, cracked laugh that bubbled out of me until tears rolled down my cheeks. “You’re really gonna stand there and act like you care?”

I turned to him slowly, my voice sharp enough to cut bone. “You tried to kill me, Carson. You almost killed me. And now you want applause because you almost let me die?”

“You ungrateful little woman,” his mother spat. “You should’ve been left on that ground. Would’ve saved us all some trouble.”

“Yeah,” I snapped, eyes locked on Carson. “Maybe you should’ve let me die. You and Madison wouldn’t have to lie anymore about what you did to my baby.”

Silence.

Heavy. Suffocating.

Carson finally scoffed and turned away. “She’s clearly high as heck on morphine. Let’s go, Madison.”

But Madison didn’t move. Instead, she clutched my hand like we were childhood best friends.

“This is all my fault,” she whispered through crocodile tears. “I’m sorry, Abigail. I never meant for things to go this far.”

I jerked my hand away so fast she stumbled. “Get the heck away from me.”

Carson caught her like a knight saving his queen, then turned to me with that look, the one that made men flinch. “You better be grateful, Abigail. If Madison wasn’t so soft, I would’ve broken every bone in your body for how you speak to her.”

They left without another word.

The doctor cleared his throat awkwardly.

“I want to go home,” I said, my voice hollow.

He nodded and quietly prepared my release.

---

When I got home, the first thing I saw waiting for me was the thick envelope. The divorce papers. They’d finally come. I went inside and grabbed my resignation letter, too. All I needed now was Carson’s signature. And he’d never sign them if he knew what they were.

Just as I was strategizing, he walked in without knocking, tossing a black bag at me.

“Put that on,” he ordered. “We’ve got a meeting with the Russians in twenty. I’m taking Madison, but you’re my assistant. You need to look useful.”

“Why not let your mistress handle it?” I said, not bothering to hide the venom in my tone.

“She’ll be on my arm. You’ll be in the background where you belong.”

I grabbed the documents and shoved them at him. “Sign these. They’re my hospital release forms.”

He frowned, flipping to the last page. “What is this?”

Just then, Madison’s voice rang out like a siren. “Baby! Come see how hot I look!”

His expression softened in a blink. A stupid, lovesick grin took over. Without thinking, he signed both pages and tossed them back at me.

He didn’t even read them.

Chapter 5

I should’ve cried. I should’ve screamed. But I was glad.

It meant he hadn’t seen the envelope I left hidden in my coat pocket: Petition for Divorce and Resignation Letter. Both stamped and signed. My final acts before disappearing from this bloodstained life.

I slipped into the tight black dress Carson once bought me… low-cut, elegant, dangerous. It hugged my bruises like silk bandages, turning me into the perfect illusion of a woman who wasn’t quietly falling apart.

Downstairs, I caught him staring.

But the second Madison walked in, all perfume and lipstick and smugness, I disappeared again.

On the drive to the event, I sat in the backseat, silent, staring out at the glittering city I was preparing to leave behind.

Madison was all giggles and claws in the passenger seat, curled into Carson’s side like she belonged there.

“This is the car we first kissed in,” she purred, trailing her fingers up his arm. “Do you remember how wild we got that night?”

Carson shifted. “Yes babe,” he muttered then he glanced at me in the rearview.

But I didn’t flinch. I was too busy confirming my flight. Tomorrow night. No more Mafia life. No more betrayal. No more Carson Langford.

As I leaned back, something crinkled beneath me. I reached down… and froze.

A wet, lacy thong lay on the seat beside me.

My stomach twisted.

Before I could speak, Madison turned and laughed. “Oh nooo,” she said with a mock-burst. “Oops. That’s mine! Carson, I told you not to leave it in the car!”

She giggled, like it was a joke between lovers.

“I thought you hid my thong after last night.”

Carson didn’t even look ashamed. He plucked the soaked scrap of fabric from the seat and raised it to his nose.

He sniffed.

“Hm. Peaches,” he said, smirking. Then casually tucked it into his pocket.

I nearly vomited.

Not from disgust. From hatred. From how small he was, and how low I’d let myself fall to love a man like him. They laughed like teenagers in heat while I sat behind them, trapped in their filth.

But I smiled. Quiet. Calm.

Because by this time tomorrow, they'd wake up to a world without me and without my silence. And that silence? It was the last gift they'd ever get from me.

***

We arrived at the venue. Madison hung off his arm like a trophy while I followed behind like a servant. Every time someone called her Mrs. Langford, I saw Carson flinch. But he didn’t correct them. Not once.

Near the end of the event, just when I thought I could finally breathe, chaos broke loose.

Firearm shots.

Screams.

People hit the floor. The orchestra scattered.

And the first thing Carson did?

He threw himself over Madison, shielding her like she was made of gold.

I stood there frozen, and before I could move, pain seared through my side. A bullet. I inhaled sharply, collapsing, blood soaking through my dress.

“C-carson…” I whimpered, reaching for him. “Help…”

He glanced back. For a moment, I saw something in his eyes. Panic, maybe. Love? No. Pity.

He ran to me, pressed his hand on the wound.

“Hold on, Abigail. You’ll be okay. Just hang in there.”

But then—

“Carson!” Madison screamed. “The baby! I can’t move!”

And just like that, he dropped me. Didn’t hesitate. Didn’t look back. He scooped Madison into his arms like some hero in a romance movie.

“You’re strong, Abigail,” he said over his shoulder. “You’ll survive. But I can’t risk her. Or our baby.”

Then they vanished through the exit while I lay bleeding on the floor.

Alone.

Left behind by a man who once promised to protect me.

And in Madison’s smug smirk as she looked back, I saw it. She’d won. For now.

Sounds from firearms echoed outside the doors, and I stayed hidden, bleeding, shivering. No one came.

Not Carson. Not even his crew.

When I finally crawled out, half-conscious from blood loss, they had already cleared out. Left me there in the middle of a deal gone sideways.

The hospital patched me up. Again. The nurse didn’t even flinch this time. She knew me by name.

When I got back to the estate, I expected silence. Regret. Maybe someone was looking for me.

Instead, I found them at the long table in the dining hall. Carson. Madison. Kira. His mother. His right-hand man Oliver. Laughing. Drinking wine. Eating steak.

Like I hadn’t just taken a bullet meant for him.

Carson’s smile faltered when he saw me. Guilt flashed in his eyes, but it passed quick, like everything else with him.

“I had to take Madison to the ER,” he said, walking over. “She was in critical condition.”

“Yeah?” I said, voice flat. “Guess I wasn’t.”

I didn’t wait for a response. I just turned and climbed the stairs to our bedroom. Our prison cell, more like. I pulled out the old wooden box I kept under the bed. Love letters, pictures, our wedding ring, vows written on napkins from that cheap Vegas chapel.

I carried the box outside and dumped it into the steel barrel in the backyard.

Lit a match. Tossed it in.

Watched it burn.

All of it. The good years. The fake ones. The lies.

Carson stormed out when he smelled the smoke. “What on earth are you doing?!”

He grabbed the fire extinguisher, but it was too late. All he saved was a half-burnt photo of our wedding, his hand still on my body, me smiling like a fool.

“You’ve lost it,” he growled. “Are you insane?!”

I looked him dead in the eyes. “I want a divorce.”

Chapter 6

He froze. Something flickered across his face… panic? Rage? A glimmer of the man he used to be?

Then the sneer came. “You think you can just leave me?” he spat. “You got no money. No name. No power. This life, my life, you wouldn’t last a day without it.”

I turned away.

But before I could take another step, his hand clamped around my arm… tight, bruising.

“My old man liked you, that’s the only reason you became my wife,” he hissed, breath hot with fury. “You think you earned this? Without me, you’re nothing. You can’t even feed yourself. And now you want a divorce?”

I stared at his hand gripping my skin. Then I pulled away. Quiet. Calm. Like tearing off dead weight.

“I’d rather starve,” I said. And walked away.

Back into the house. Back into the silence. And just as I walked upstairs, his voice rang out one last time, desperate.

“Abigail!”

I paused but not for him.

A small pair of feet ran toward the door.

“Daddy!” the little girl cried, Madison’s daughter—his daughter. “Daddy, I won’t eat if you don’t feed me.”

Her voice cracked.

He turned to her. Hesitated.

And I? I kept walking.

Because for once… his hunger was no longer mine to feed.

---

By morning, the sky was clear.

I woke up smiling for the first time in years.

Because today was the day I left this cursed empire behind.

When I opened the door, Carson was standing there, holding a single white rose. My favorite.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I know I messed up.”

His voice was gentle. His eyes were soft.

Just like the first time he pulled me into his world of blood, betrayal, and power disguised as love.

He held out a box wrapped in gold ribbon. Inside was a flowing yellow dress. Silk. Effortless. Radiant. My favorite color.

“I booked a place for us,” he said. “Same spot where we had our first date.”

I stared at him, stunned for a moment. And then I smiled.

A small, practiced, polite smile.

“Fine.”

He left humming, like he’d won me back.

Inside, I sank onto the bed and checked my phone—confirming my flight one last time.

As I scrolled, memory crept in like a ghost from another lifetime…

---

Paris. Four years ago.

I was twenty-three, still naïve enough to believe that flowers could mean forever.

He took my hand as we stepped out of the car into a candlelit rooftop garden overlooking the Eiffel Tower. The entire terrace had been emptied just for us. The music was soft. Jazz. Strings.

And then… A sudden gust of wind stirred the air, and I inhaled sharply.

Thousands of rose petals fluttered down from above, scattered like crimson snow, spiraling in the Parisian night.

Carson laughed and pulled me close. “I told you,” he whispered, “I’d give you anything.”

My eyes filled with tears. “Even the sky?”

He grinned. “Especially the sky.”

I remember how his lips tasted like wine when he kissed me under the rain of roses. How I told myself, This must be what love feels like. This. Right here.

Back in the present, I blinked the memory away.

Because now I knew better. That kind of love wasn’t real. It was a sedative. A lie with lace gloves.

Today, I’d wear the yellow dress.

I’d let him take me to the place he thought still had power over me.

I’d even smile. But when I left that table… I’d never come back. Not as his wife. Not as his victim.Not as his anything.

A text from Flynn lit up the screen.

“Today’s the day, baby. No backing out.”

“I’m in,’ I replied. ‘Let it burn.”

I stacked three gift boxes on the bed. Anniversary gifts for our five-year mark. Of course, Carson didn’t remember. Men like him only remember what benefits them.

Just as I was zipping the dress, the door burst open.

Carson. Madison. And that venomous old woman he called ‘Mama.’

Madison looked like she’d been rehearsing in front of a mirror.

“You set us up?!” Carson shouted, storming across the room. Before I could even react, his palm cracked across my face.

Then his mother slapped me. Twice. Hard and fast. Knocking me to the floor.

“You knew the Russians were coming! Just to test if Carson would save you? Are you sick in the head?” Madison shrieked.

“If you’re gonna kill me, fine,” she sobbed dramatically, clutching her stomach. “But spare my babies, please!”

“You ungrateful snake,” his mother snapped. “You think we owe you something after everything he’s done for you?”

They all screamed, cursed, kicked at my name like it was filth.

And I said nothing.

Because at that moment… I felt nothing.

“I gotta clean up your mess,” Carson spat. “You’re not leaving this house. Stay here. Think real hard about what you just did. I’ll deal with you later.”

He slammed the door behind him.

I grabbed my phone.

Dialed.

“Flynn,” I whispered.

“Tell me, baby girl.”

“I changed my mind,” I said calmly. “Release the footage. Send the emails. Start the fire. I want him to watch his kingdom crumble before I board that plane.”

Flynn chuckled. “Already done. Your ride’s out front.”

I stepped out. A small black sedan waiting by the gate.

The driver opened the door with a small nod. “Welcome, Mistress.”

As we pulled away from the estate, I looked back one last time.

And smiled. Let them burn. Every last one of them. Carson. Madison. That snake pit he called a family.

They wanted a war? They just made the mistake of forgetting who they married.

At the airport, I walked through security with nothing but a passport, a boarding pass, and the weight of everything they took from me.

The plane doors closed and my phone lit up.

Carson Langford – Calling…

Decline.

Again.

Again.

Again.

I let it ring. Let him suffer. Let him feel the silence he sentenced me to but on the fourth call, I answered.

I didn’t let him speak. I brought the phone to my lips, stared out the window as the engines began to roar, and said: “YOU TRASH, CARSON.”

Then I hung up.

And flew.