Chapter 2

The lights in the backstage lounge were very white.

I took off my gloves, and the old scars on the inside of my wrists showed—rope marks.

Elijah leaned against the door.

"Did he hurt you?"

"It doesn't hurt."

He looked at me.

"You used to say that too, when it did hurt."

I didn't answer.

Three years ago, at the Women's Virtue Academy, I said the same thing.

The dean made me kneel in the ancestral hall and forced me to recite the Weiss family precepts.

A husband's word is above all else; the mistress of the house must be gracious, must not argue, must not make a scene.

If I got a single word wrong, the rope tightened another inch.

It hurt so much that I begged them, crying, to let me call Jarvis Weiss.

The dean put it on speaker.

"Go on, call. Let Mr. Weiss hear how good you are at pretending."

The call connected.

I cried, "Jarvis Weiss, save me."

There were a few seconds of silence on the other end.

Then his voice came.

"Still haven't learned your lesson?"

There was a knock at the door.

"Judy James, open the door."

Jarvis's voice came through the door, edged with anger.

I didn't move.

He knocked twice more.

"If you won't talk about the ring, you should at least talk about the divorce."

Elijah asked, "Want me to handle it?"

"No need."

I opened the door.

Jarvis stood there, his palm wrapped in gauze.

Adela was behind him, her eyes red.

"Judy, I didn't know the ring belonged to your grandmother."

I looked at her.

"There's a lot Miss Henson doesn't know."

"Three years ago you didn't know why I was sent away, didn't know how I was beaten, or how I died."

"And now you don't even know whose ring it is."

I took a step forward.

"What exactly do you know?"

Adela stepped back.

Jarvis reached out to block me.

"Enough."

He was getting impatient again.

"You're barely back and you already have to make everyone miserable?"

Three years ago, he said the same thing.

That day, Adela cried and said I looked down on her.

In front of a room full of guests, Jarvis told me to pour her tea and apologize.

I refused.

After that, I went into the Women's Virtue Academy.

I took a paper envelope from the drawer and threw it against his chest.

"Sign it."

The supplemental divorce agreement.

Jarvis's face went cold.

"You really want to make a clean break with me?"

"It's not what I want. It's a notice."

He gave a cold laugh.

"Have you forgotten? Back then, to marry me, you stood outside the Weiss family's gate all night."

"Now you come out playing the victim with Elijah Stephens. How much did he offer you?"

Adela tugged at him.

"Jarvis, don't bring that up, it'll embarrass Judy."

I looked at her.

"You're the one who reminded him to bring it up, aren't you?"

Her face stiffened.

I looked at the man in front of me and curled my lips into a smile.

"Jarvis Weiss, for three years, so you could take over the James family's assets legitimately, you deliberately held back reporting my death and only reported me missing. Since we're still husband and wife in the eyes of the law, let's sign the agreement today—and while we're at it, go over the list of James family assets you're going to cough back up."

I pulled a photo out of the envelope.

In it, seventeen-year-old me stood at the Weiss family's gate holding my grandmother's urn, barely able to stay standing in the rain.

That day, I wasn't the one throwing myself at you.

It was Jarvis who used the James family's port land as the condition for me to marry him.

It was also the first day I was under his control.

I tore the photo in half.

"Jarvis Weiss, you always think I owe you."

"But you've forgotten—you married me to get the James family's port land."

His expression changed.

Adela spoke up. "Judy, he clearly pities you."

I cut her off.

"That land is now in your name."

Adela's face went pale.

Jarvis looked at her.

"What land?"

I slapped the documents down on the table.

"Don't rush."

"The James ancestral home, the port land, the Women's Virtue Academy, and the real death certificate."

"I'll look into every one of them."

Jarvis's voice was low and hoarse.

"You're investigating me?"

"No."

I looked at him.

"I'm investigating how you people stole my life."