Chapter 2

I was an orphan taken in by the Vance family when I was just a child. Bound by a long-standing family promise made decades ago, I eventually walked down the aisle with Julian.

I still remembered our wedding day. Mia had hugged me and teased:

"Ten years of chasing him, and you finally got your happily ever after."

Back then, I had beamed, utterly convinced:

"We will. Julian and I are going to be happy forever."

Julian was naturally reserved, and I was quiet and compliant. Together, we were like two locked boxes, rarely speaking words of passion or sweet romance.

Yet during our intimate moments, Julian would cradle my face in his hands, teasing me until I whispered that I loved him right against his ear.

For three years, while our marriage lacked fireworks, it was peaceful and respectful.

Then, in our fourth year, I became pregnant.

Every piece of the life I had dreamed of seemed to finally be falling into place.

On the night of our fourth anniversary, I carefully packaged the positive pregnancy test and the ultrasound scan into an elegant gift box.

I imagined how his quiet face would light up with shock and delight.

Then my phone buzzed with an unknown message on SnapChat:

Is this Mrs. Vance? Mr. Vance injured his arm and is currently in the ER at St. Jude's Hospital. Please come immediately.

Panic seized me. I called a driver and rushed to St. Jude’s.

I ran down the corridor and reached the room, only to freeze at the doorway. My husband had his arm wrapped around a girl whose eyes were puffy from crying, softly reassuring her.

When Julian noticed me standing there, he gently pushed the girl away. His tone instantly turned sharp and impatient:

"What are you doing here?"

In that split second, the ground beneath my marriage cracked wide open.

The girl sniffled, her voice thick with exaggerated innocence:

"I’m the one who called Mrs. Vance. After all, you got hurt protecting me. I didn't want your wife to misunderstand."

My mouth parted, but no sound came out. I stood there, stiff and humiliated.

Seeing my silence, the girl stepped forward and grabbed my hand with practiced warmth.

"Hello, Mrs. Vance. I'm Hailey Bennett. An obsessed anti-fan stalked me tonight. If Mr. Vance hadn't stepped in, I don't know what would have happened."

She looked at me with stars in her eyes, gushing about how Julian had swooped in like a hero.

A woman’s intuition never lies: Hailey Bennett wanted my husband.

Dread pooled in my stomach. I pulled my hand back, ignoring her chatter, and walked up to Julian.

"Next time, don't be so reckless," I said quietly, trying to regain control. "She's a public figure. She has bodyguards for a reason."

Hailey’s face fell instantly, her voice dripping with pitiful guilt.

"I’m so sorry, Mrs. Vance. My security team had already clocked out for the night. It’s entirely my fault Julian got hurt..."

Julian was propped up on the bed, testing the mobility of his injured shoulder. Hearing the tension between us, he frowned slightly.

"Elena, I just happened to pass by and helped. There’s no need to be so hostile. Hailey is the new ambassador for our firm. It’s my responsibility to guarantee her safety."

I hadn't expected him to scold me. I hadn't realized that, in his eyes, I was just a petty, jealous woman.

A sharp, dull ache spread through my chest.

I swallowed the bitterness, telling myself to wait until we got home to talk this through.

But when I opened the rear door of the car outside, I froze.