Chapter 1

The day they took me was supposed to be my wedding day.

I was five months pregnant, standing in a small room off the main chapel, the white dress tight against my belly. I could hear the organ music starting, a low hum of excitement from the guests just beyond the door. My fiancé, Mark Sullivan, was waiting.

Then the door opened, but it wasn't my father.

Two men I had never seen before filled the doorway. They didn't say a word. One just grabbed my arm, his grip like iron. The other covered my mouth before I could scream. They dragged me out a back exit, the rough fabric of a bag scraping against my face as they pulled it over my head.

The world went dark and smelled like dust and gasoline.

They held me for a day and a night. I can' t remember all of it, and I don' t want to. The pain was a constant, sharp thing that erased thought. The fear was a cold ocean I was drowning in. They left me in a field, my wedding dress torn and stained with blood and dirt. I felt a final, wrenching cramp in my abdomen, a wetness between my legs, and I knew I had lost my baby. After that, I didn't feel anything at all.

I woke up in a hospital. The lights were too bright. A nurse told me I was lucky to be alive.

The first news I saw was a statement from Mark' s family. He had publicly called off our engagement. The article mentioned my "unfortunate ordeal" and wished me a "swift recovery" before announcing his immediate marriage to his childhood sweetheart, Tiffany Hayes. My best friend. The woman who had helped me pick out my wedding dress.

I was broken, discarded, and alone. The world felt silent and gray.

Then Ethan Sullivan, Mark' s younger brother, burst into my hospital room. He wasn' t calm and collected like Mark. His face was pale, his eyes frantic. He didn't just stand by the door; he rushed to my side, grabbing my hand. He had already called in the top specialists, people who flew in just for me.

He stayed for hours, for days. When I was finally lucid enough to understand, he knelt by my bed. The hospital room was sterile and cold, but his voice was warm.

"Ava," he said, his grip on my hand firm. "I don't care what happened. I don't care what they say. Marry me."

For three years, he was my savior. He built a fortress of love and care around me. Our home was quiet and safe. He held me when I woke up screaming from nightmares. He celebrated every small victory, every day I felt a little more like myself. He was patient, kind, and fiercely protective. He was the man who had pulled me from the wreckage.

We tried to have a child. Month after month, we were met with disappointment. My body, the fertility specialist Dr. Miller gently explained, was too damaged. The scar tissue was extensive. It was unlikely I would ever conceive again. Ethan held my hand through every appointment, his expression a mask of shared sorrow.

Tonight, he was out with his friend, Ben Carter. I was in the library, looking for a book, when I heard their voices drift in from the terrace. The French doors were open just a crack, letting in the cool night air.

"Heard your wife's still seeing that fertility specialist," Ben said. His voice was low, uneasy. "Even though he said her body's too damaged to conceive."

I froze, my hand hovering over a row of books.

Ethan' s voice followed, but it wasn' t the warm, loving tone I knew. It was flat and cold, a voice I had never heard before.

"She needs to feel like she's trying."

There was a pause. Ben sighed. "Man, I still can't believe it. Remember how you arranged for her to be assaulted so Tiffany could marry the older brother? And you've been secretly giving her birth control pills all these years. It's pretty messed up."

The book I was reaching for slipped from my grasp and hit the plush carpet with a muffled thud. The sound was lost in the roaring that filled my ears. My breath caught in my throat. It couldn' t be. A mistake. I must have misheard.

But then Ethan spoke again, and his words were clear, sharp, and stripped of all warmth. They were the sound of my world shattering.

"Only if Ava was ruined could Mark have an excuse to call off the wedding. For Tiffany' s happiness, I had to do it."

His voice dropped even lower, laced with a chilling contempt.

"Besides, someone as tainted as her doesn't deserve to bear my child."

My heart didn't just break. It turned to dust inside my chest.

The man who knelt by my hospital bed, the man who promised to protect me, the man who held me through my darkest nights-he was the architect of my hell. The entire rescue, the loving marriage, the three years of devotion-it was all a lie. A meticulous, brutal, perfectly executed lie.

My salvation was my damnation.

I sank to the floor, silent. The grand library, once a symbol of our shared life, felt like a tomb. The air grew thick and heavy, pressing down on me until I could barely breathe. A cold clarity washed over me, chilling me to the bone.

If this was all a lie, then I had nothing to lose.

I would simply leave.