Chapter 3

Avery's POV

I don't know how I left the hospital.

When I dragged my utterly exhausted body back to the villa, the sight before me made my steps falter.

The patch of lilies I had personally planted in the yard was gone, replaced by large beds of vibrant red roses. Celeste's favorite flowers.

Pushing open the door, the living room's layout had been completely changed. The antique vase I'd bought at auction was carelessly tossed in a corner, and the sofa was covered with Celeste's favorite plush toys.

The master bedroom door on the second floor was open, and Celeste was standing in front of my vanity, wearing my custom-made silk robe and trying on my jewelry.

Hearing footsteps, Celeste turned around and smiled faintly. "Avery, you're back. Ethan said it wasn't safe for me to live alone outside, so he asked me to move in for a while. You don't mind, do you?"

I looked at her blankly. "Take it off. Get out."

"Avery!"

Ethan's deep, angry voice came from the staircase.

He strode over, pulling Celeste behind him, and looked at me furiously.

"What's that supposed to mean? Celeste's address was leaked by one of your brother's old clients, and people are harassing her daily. She can't handle any stress right now, so living here is the safest option."

"This is my home," my voice was calm.

"This is my home too," Ethan said coldly, looking at me. "If you're uncomfortable, you can move to the guest room."

Making his wife move to the guest room to give the master bedroom to his mistress.

I didn't argue, didn't make a scene. I turned and walked into the study, took a pre-drafted document from a drawer, walked up to Ethan, and handed it to him.

"Since you're so worried about her, then let's get a divorce. You can marry her and turn this into her home."

Ethan looked down at the document, which read "Divorce Agreement," and his face instantly darkened.

He snatched the agreement, tore it to shreds in front of me, the pieces scattering like snowflakes on the floor.

"Divorce? You wish!" Ethan grabbed my chin, his eyes sinister. "You think signing it will make everything disappear? Your brother ruined Celeste's reputation, and your mom left Celeste with psychological trauma. Your family owes her, and you'll never be able to repay that debt!"

"Ethan, don't you realize how absurd you sound?!" I was forced to look up, my eyes full of despair. "Who truly owes whom?!"

"In New York, my word is law," Ethan flung me away, pulled out a handkerchief, and wiped his hands as if he had touched something filthy. "From today on, you are not allowed to go anywhere without my permission. Stay home and take good care of Celeste. Any problem she has will be your responsibility."

In the days that followed, I became a prisoner in that villa.

Ethan confiscated my phone and ID, cutting off all my contact with the outside world. I was forced to watch Ethan try to make Celeste happy every day.

Celeste said she wanted dessert from a Michelin-starred restaurant, and Ethan would postpone a multi-million-dollar meeting to personally drive and buy it.

Celeste said she was afraid of the dark, so Ethan would stay in the master bedroom with her, while I, in the cold guest room, listened to the laughter from next door.

I tried to use the landline to contact my former best friend, a New York Times reporter, hoping to expose everything.

However, less than half an hour after the call connected, Ethan returned home in a rage.

He threw a dismissal notice in my face.

"That reporter friend of yours has been blacklisted from the entire industry for fabricating false news," Ethan said, looking down at me, his eyes cruel. "Avery, I warned you not to resist me. The more you resist, the worse the fate of those around you will be."

I collapsed to the floor, staring at the dismissal notice, finally understanding that, in front of this man, even the right to breathe had been taken from me.