Chapter 4

I stood under the freezing spray of the shower, letting the cold water shock my system. I needed to think. I needed to be clear.

The water sluiced over me, but it couldn't wash away the image of them in the hospital, or the sound of Damien' s voice calling her his wife.

I stepped out, wrapped a towel around myself, and sent a single text message.

`Jasper. I need you to find out everything you can about Damien Hobbs. Now.`

My contact was Jasper Berger, a brilliant academic I' d partnered with during my post-grad research at Stanford. He was loyal, principled, and owed me a favor.

He didn't text back. He called.

"Ariel. It's done."

"What's done?" I asked, my heart pounding.

"He divorced you six months ago," Jasper's voice was grim. "The paperwork was filed in a small county courthouse. He used a power of attorney you signed before your surgery. It looks legal, but it stinks. He married Kara Gregory a week later."

I sank to the floor, the phone still pressed to my ear. I clutched my stomach as a wave of pain, sharp and visceral, twisted through me.

I started laughing. Then I started crying. The sounds mixed together into a horrifying symphony of grief. A joke. My entire life was a joke. I hadn't just been betrayed. I had been erased. Replaced.

"Ariel? Are you okay? Talk to me," Jasper's voice was tight with worry.

"I'm fine," I lied, my voice hoarse. "Jasper? That offer you made a while back. Is it still on the table?"

"The marriage proposal?" He sounded shocked. "You're serious?"

"Yes," I said, a strange calm settling over me. "I'm serious. Let's get married."

There was nothing left for me here. This city, this life, it wasn't mine anymore. It was time to leave.

I spent the next few days in a blur of activity. I contacted my lawyers, my financial advisors. I started the process of moving my assets, selling my shares, cutting every tie that bound me to this place.

Damien and Cohen kept up their charade, sending me texts filled with hollow declarations of love and concern. I knew they were spending every spare moment with Kara, tending to her, protecting her.

One night, I fell into an exhausted sleep, only to be pulled into a hazy, disoriented state. The air was thick with the scent of lavender, too strong, cloying. I could hear voices, but my limbs felt like lead. I couldn't move. I couldn't even open my eyes.

"Will she wake up?" It was Cohen's voice, laced with anxiety.

"No," Damien's voice was steady, cold. "This incense is powerful. It'll keep her under for a few minutes. It's harmless."

I felt him take my hand. It was limp in his grasp. He expertly pressed my thumb onto an ink pad, then onto a piece of paper.

"This should do it," he said, a note of satisfaction in his voice. "Once this statement goes public, it will shut down all the rumors about Kara."

Cohen sighed. "I can't believe this is happening. The moment she comes back, these stories start spreading online. It has to be her, Damien. She's behind this."

Damien let out a short, contemptuous laugh. "No. This isn't Ariel's style. If she wanted revenge, she'd burn my company to the ground. She wouldn't play these petty games. But it doesn't matter who started it."

His voice dropped, turning hard and menacing.

"Kara is pregnant. That's all that matters. And if I find out that Ariel, or anyone else, is trying to hurt her or my child... I won't be gentle."

I lay there, paralyzed, a prisoner in my own body, listening to the man I loved threaten me to protect the woman who had stolen my life. My own brother-figure stood by, believing I was the villain.

The world wasn't just cracking anymore. It had been pulverized into dust, and I was buried underneath it.