Chapter 3

By the time the sun began sinking below the horizon, I returned to the villa. The moment I stepped through the doors, I knew something was wrong. The entire room was thick with fear and disorder.

Vincent stood in the center of the living room with several of his men surrounding him. The servants were bound on the floor, their pale faces trembling as Vincent stared them down.

“Where is she?” he demanded, his voice dangerously quiet. “Do you honestly think I won’t make every one of you regret keeping your mouths shut until someone tells me where she went?”

The servants immediately turned toward me.

“Miss Amara!”

Vincent spun around.

The fury disappeared from his face almost instantly, replaced by such obvious relief that it looked painful.

“Amara.”

He crossed the room and pulled me against him, wrapping his arms around me as though he had been afraid I would never come back.

“Where have you been?” he demanded softly. “I’ve been trying to reach you for hours. I thought something had happened. You scared the hell out of me.”

My body went rigid for a moment before I forced myself to relax against him.

“I went shopping,” I answered quietly. “I lost track of the time.”

He pulled away just enough to study my face, then released a breath as though he couldn't bring himself to be angry with me.

“Next time, take me with you,” he murmured, gently smoothing my hair away from my face. “Let me carry your bags, pay for whatever you want, and come running whenever you call. Isn’t that what a husband is supposed to do?”

Husband.

The word struck somewhere deep inside me.

No.

You stopped being my husband four years ago.

“Besides, today is our seventh anniversary,” he continued with a faint smile. “Come with me. I have something waiting for you.”

He took my hand and led me outside toward the helipad. Before I could ask where we were going, he simply scooped me into his arms and carried me aboard the helicopter as though I weighed nothing.

A moment later, the blades began to turn. Wind tore through my hair as we lifted away from the villa and rose above the city.

I said nothing.

I only watched Vincent.

The man beside me looked exactly like the husband I remembered, yet after everything I had learned, he felt like a stranger wearing a familiar face.

Once we were high above the city, Vincent gently turned my chin toward the window.

“Look down.”

I followed his gaze.

The lights below began shifting across the darkness, hundreds of them moving into position until they formed enormous words across the city.

LOVE, Amara.

My breath caught.

It was breathtaking.

It was extravagant and ridiculous and completely Vincent.

He leaned close until his lips nearly touched my ear.

“I love you, Amara,” he whispered. “I always have, and I always will.”

My chest tightened.

Anyone watching us from a distance would have thought I was the luckiest woman alive.

So why did I feel as though I were slowly drowning?

The helicopter eventually descended and landed at an enormous estate far beyond the city.

The mansion looked less like a home than a palace built for royalty—or perhaps for someone powerful enough to frighten royalty itself. Vincent had reportedly spent five billion on the property, and the stories surrounding it had already turned the place into something of a legend.

Then I saw the words carved into the gates.

Amara’s Palace.

For a moment, I forgot how to breathe.

Everything inside the estate had been designed around me.

The architecture reflected an aesthetic I had once casually mentioned liking. I hadn't even remembered telling Vincent about it, yet he had remembered.

The gardens were overflowing with orchids, including rare varieties that cost more than most people could earn in years.

And beyond the gardens was something even more unbelievable.

An amusement park.

My amusement park.

There were carousels, Ferris wheels, and roller coasters glowing beneath the night sky, all arranged like something pulled from one of my childhood fantasies. Near the edge was a small petting zoo where dogs wandered freely, playing with one another or sleeping safely in the grass.

I remembered the stray dog I had once stopped to feed.

I had only told Vincent that the poor thing looked lonely.

That had been enough.

My eyes burned as I stared at everything he had built.

He remembered.

For seven years, Vincent really had remembered every little thing about me. He had given me things I wanted before I even knew how to ask for them.

So why did looking at all of it make me feel as though something inside me were dying?

Because now I knew the truth.

His love had never belonged entirely to me.

He had divided it between us.

Half for me.

Half for the woman who destroyed my future.

Vincent came closer and brushed the tears from my cheek with his thumb. His touch was so gentle that it almost made the pain worse.

“Hey,” he murmured. “A man is supposed to look after his wife. When you cry like this, you make me miserable too. So please, don’t do this to me.”

I nearly laughed.

Wife?

Which wife was he talking about?

Then, beneath the stars, Vincent suddenly lowered himself onto one knee.

My breath caught.

He opened a velvet box, revealing a ring that glittered beneath the lights.

“Amara,” he said, looking up at me as though I were the most precious thing in his world, “marrying you was the greatest thing that ever happened to me. I love you so much that being away from you feels unbearable.”

My fingers began to tremble.

“So I made sure it won’t happen again,” he continued. “There’s a tracking chip inside this ring, and mine has the receiver. That way, I’ll always know where you are and what you’re doing. I’ll never have to worry about losing you again.”

Something inside me turned cold.

Was that love?

Or was it control dressed up as devotion?

The intensity in his eyes frightened me. It was the look of a man who would tear the world apart rather than allow something he considered his to escape.

Vincent reached for my hand.

But just before he could slide the ring onto my finger, his phone rang.

The ringtone was familiar.

I saw the brief change in his expression.

Sabrina.

He glanced at the screen, his face becoming unreadable, then slipped the ring onto my finger anyway as though nothing had happened.

“I need to take this,” he said casually. “It’s an important client. I’ll be back soon. Don’t wait up.”

Client?

I nearly laughed at the absurdity of it.

Before I could say anything, Vincent had already turned away. Moments later, he was climbing into the helicopter, apparently more concerned with whatever waited on the other end of that call than with the anniversary he had spent the entire evening preparing.

The blades began spinning.

Then the helicopter disappeared into the night.

I stood there alone as the sound gradually faded into the distance.

Eventually, I lowered myself beside one of the puppies and picked it up. It gave a tiny bark against my palm, its body warm and alive.

I held it against my chest.

The dogs Sabrina had once treated as worthless had found a home.

So why hadn't I?

Something slipped from my finger.

I looked down.

The ring.

My heart sank as I picked it up.

Vincent hadn't even noticed.

He had given me the wrong one.

This was his ring—the one designed to receive the tracking signal.

Which meant the ring he had taken with him was the one containing the chip.

The one that could track me.

The one that could monitor me.

I stared at it for several seconds before finally pressing the tiny switch.

A voice came through almost immediately.

“Darling, I’m sorry. I never wanted things to become like this,” Sabrina said, her voice trembling. “I’ve been kept here for four years, and I honestly feel like I’m losing my mind.”

My fingers tightened around the ring.

“You don’t have to worry about me,” she continued, forcing herself to sound composed. “Today is your seventh anniversary with Miss Sinclair, so go and spend it with her. I’ll be all right. We’ve already survived four years, haven’t we?”

There was a brief silence.

Then Vincent answered.

“Stop saying things like that,” he said, his voice firm but controlled. “Do you really think I’d abandon you now? You’re not well. I’m your man, and taking care of you is my responsibility. It doesn't matter what day it is.”

Something inside my chest cracked.