Chapter 1

Ethan had been the golden boy for over twenty years.

Until he was twenty-five, when he ignored everyone's advice and married me, a woman with a severe psychological disorder.

I couldn't bear him being around anyone else.

I sabotaged his work and wrecked his business dinners.

And when he finally couldn't take it anymore and asked for a divorce, I locked him up at home.

For a whole month, he tried to reason with me, speaking softly.

But in the end, Ethan totally lost it and started yelling at me.

He shouted, "You're sick in the head. You're ruining everyone else's life.

"Julia, sooner or later you'll come to a bad end!"

A month later, I ended up dead in the secret room down in our basement.

The police unlocked the door and rescued Ethan, who was barely hanging on.

No one knew where I'd gone.

Ethan's parents were a mess, tears streaming down their faces as they confronted the police.

His mother yelled, "He's our only son, and that lunatic turned him into this.

"No matter what, she has to pay for this!"

*****

The incident caused a huge stir.

The Palmer family were famous across the country for their medical legacy.

Ethan was a genius, living in a world of his own.

He kept to himself, but when it came to pharmaceutical research, he was a prodigy.

But now, the genius everyone used to admire was being propped up, looking like he'd completely fallen from grace in front of the media.

This was the same guy who'd never even had rumors about him, not a single hint of scandal.

His custom-made shirt was crumpled all over, with two buttons gone.

And on his exposed neck, there was a bruise that looked like a hickey.

His lip was busted, his face ghostly pale, and his eyes were sunken with exhaustion.

I hovered in the air, watching the reporters' cameras flash like crazy.

Ethan frowned, giving them a warning glare.

But with his face looking so frail, his glare had zero effect on anyone.

The reporters kept snapping away, even faster than before.

It wasn't until the police put up a barricade that the reporters finally backed off.

Ethan's mom, Ainsley Palmer, wiped away her tears, while his dad's face was dark with anger.

One of the officers approached Ethan and asked, "Mr. Palmer, could you tell us about your relationship with Ms. Julia Wynn, the homeo..."

"She's a lunatic, a total psycho." Before the officer could even finish, Ethan answered through gritted teeth, every word dripping with venom.

His eyes were full of hate, and his lips were cracked and bleeding.

The officer jotted down notes.

After a moment, he looked up at Ethan.

He said, "Our preliminary investigation shows you and Ms. Julia Wynn were legally married for two years.

"You filed for divorce a little over a month ago.

"But before the court date, you withdrew the petition yourself.

"Since you believe Ms. Wynn has a mental illness..."

The officer paused, unsure how to continue.

But everyone knew what he meant.

If Ethan really thought I was insane, he shouldn't have lost his nerve when he filed for divorce.

Ethan's flawless face flushed red, then turned pale in an instant—caught between embarrassment and anger.

After a moment, he couldn't hold back his regret and muttered, "I must've been lost my mind then."

I looked at his fingers, trembling with rage, but he was so weak he couldn't even clench them into a fist.

Hovering above, I couldn't help but burst out laughing.

Everyone said he was cold and distant, like he wanted nothing to do with anyone.

But I knew the truth. Sometimes, he could be surprisingly gentle.

By then, we'd been married for two years.

My crazy controlling ways had turned our lives into a total mess.

He finally made up his mind and got all the evidence he needed to file for divorce.

But right before the court date, I let a couple of tears fall.

I played the pitiful card, acting all full of regret and swearing I'd really change this time.

He kept his expression icy, but in the end, he still dropped the divorce case.

That same night, after he finished the meal I cooked, I locked him up in the bedroom.

And that was how it all ended up.

I was dead.

His parents called the cops, and they came and found him.

The police took down the details and searched the house from top to bottom.

But no one ever found the hidden room in the basement.

In the end, they decided I wasn't even in the house.

The police could only shrug and say, "We'll do our best to find Ms. Wynn as soon as possible.

"As for her illegal confinement of you, Mr. Palmer, we'll make sure she faces the full weight of the law."

Once the reporters left, the internet went wild.

What started as sympathy for Ethan gradually turned into jokes and mockery.

[Damn, Julia's brave. She actually did what we all wish we could do but never dared.]

[Can you even imagine what Professor Palmer went through during that month he was locked up?]

Ethan threw his phone across the room, his face dark with rage.

He ordered his assistant, who had rushed in after hearing the commotion.

His voice was icy, filled with determination and hatred.

He said, "Resubmit the divorce papers.

"Even if Julia pretends to be dead this time

"No, even if she's six feet under, I'm still divorcing her."

The wind was picking up in Northbridge, and snow started falling.

This year, the first snow came earlier than usual.

Ethan finished, his jaw clenched in anger.

He staggered, then suddenly collapsed to the floor and blacked out.

I'd been dead in the basement for two days.

And Ethan had been starving for two days, not a single bite of food.

To stay alive, the once pampered, high-maintenance man had to let go of all his pride.

He broke free from the ropes and gulped down tap water in the bathroom.

I couldn't help but feel sorry for him.

If I had even a breath left in me, I wouldn't have let him go through that.

I locked him up because I was heartbroken he wanted a divorce. I just couldn't bear to lose him.

I couldn't stand the thought of him suffering or starving.

I let out a soft sigh.

I watched as the police and his parents escorted Ethan to the hospital.

Ethan's stomach was bleeding from ulcers.

Even after the hospital treated him, he was still so weak he could barely stand.

Ainsley sat by his bedside, her hands trembling as she held his, sobbing so hard she could barely get the words out.

She said, "It's our fault, your dad and I.

"We were overseas for over a month, and every time we tried to reach you, you only ever replied with texts.

"I just thought you were busy at the institute, like always, and couldn't answer the phone.

"I should've asked someone else at the institute.

"I should've realized that lunatic had your phone."

Her eyes were puffy and red, filled with remorse.

Ainsley gently ran her fingers over the scars on the back of Ethan's hand, her heart breaking for him.

Those scars came from the month I had him locked up.

He got them from trying to break free from the ropes again and again.

His father, Lance Palmer brought over a bowl of soft, nourishing soup, stirring it carefully with a spoon until it was just right—not too hot.

He gently helped Ethan sit up and passed him the bowl.

Lance spoke, his voice trembling with fury. "Rest assured.

"This time, The Palmer family won't go soft. That lunatic is going to pay for everything she did."

Hospital rooms always seemed colder than anywhere else, like the chill seeped into your bones.

But with Ethan's parents hovering around him, fussing and caring, he barely noticed the cold.

Somehow, even though it was just another hospital room, his felt warmer than the rest.

Watching all this, I couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy.

Thinking back, I couldn't help but hide my illness and manipulate Ethan into falling for me, then marrying me.

Sure, I craved his kindness. He was so soft-hearted, so easy to manipulate.

And honestly, I longed for the warmth of his family, too.

I never had a mom who'd make food for me on holidays.

Or a dad who'd drive miles in the rain just to bring me an umbrella.

My mom died when I was ten, my little brother when I was fourteen.

When I was fifteen, I killed my dad.

At sixteen, I got blackmailed, stabbed in the gut, and ended up in the ER, losing a kidney and half my liver.

Not a single person ever asked if I was hurting, or if I was going to die.

I never had a home, and no one ever loved me.

So when I was twenty-one, walking home in the rain.

Ethan stopped me right there and handed me an umbrella. It felt so unexpected, almost surreal.

In this messed-up world where everyone hated my guts, someone actually paused, looked at me calmly, and gave me an umbrella.

I thought it was kind of amazing, and I was ridiculously excited.

I'd known for a long time that I was messed up in the head, not like everyone else.

Ethan just handed me an umbrella, and that was all it took. I got totally hooked on him.

I started stalking him.

I even paid a private investigator to find out everything about him.