Chapter 1

I took a bullet for him, but six years after we got married, his love died.

When I said I was in pain, he held his new lover and told me to get lost.

He said, "See a doctor if you're sick. Don't bother me."

Later, he finally realized I was dying.

Then, he was the one going from one church to another, begging God to let me stay.

*****

Ten years into my relationship with Harrison Grant, the doctor told me I was dying.

The bullet in my brain had been pressing against my nerves for years.

If it was not removed, I would not survive the winter.

But the chances of surviving the surgery were less than twenty percent.

Perhaps it was for the best. Dying might not be so bad.

My life was unlikely to ever become anything more than this.

I called Harrison to remind him he needed to visit my grandfather the next day.

It was noisy on his end, and the faint sound of a woman's moans could be heard in the background.

Harrison said carelessly, "I happen to be short of someone who knows how to serve me properly. Lillian, if you come over and satisfy me, perhaps I'll accompany you to the hospital."

He always knew how to control me.

All he had to do was mention my grandfather, and I would comply with whatever he wanted.

I whispered, "Okay."

There was no point in clinging to pride now, not when I was dying soon anyway.

When Harrison saw me, he appeared surprised.

It made sense. I had always been stubborn and proud, always inclined to oppose him.

But today, I simply did as he wished. He beckoned, and I went right over.

Honestly, I was like an obedient pet dog.

Harrison had a gorgeous girl seated in his lap. She was radiant and elegant, and when she smiled, two dimples appeared.

She looked me up and down, her face revealing clear disappointment.

"So you're Lillian Monroe? I thought you'd be some kind of goddess, but seeing you now... You are nothing special," she sneered.

I recognized her immediately. She was Sophie Jackson.

Harrison was constantly featured in the tabloids, swapping women as often as he changed clothes.

But Sophie was the one who had lasted the longest.

Rumors claimed they had already met each other's parents, and everyone expected them to marry soon.

People laughed at me, the wife who had stood by him through everything, the one who would soon be cast aside.

Harrison gently brushed Sophie's nose with his finger, his tone affectionate. "Of course, she cannot compare to you."

Sophie looked smug. "Lucky for you, Mr. Grant. You found me. I'm far more impressive than she ever was."

Harrison's friends were all present.

They used to talk to me with respect.

Now, they were merely waiting for the drama, eager to watch me fall apart.

Harrison tossed me a bottle of whiskey. "Drink it straight from the bottle. Finish it, and I'll go with you to see your grandfather tomorrow."

I said, "I can't. The doctor told me to quit drinking."

With a bullet lodged in my head, the doctor had provided a long list of prohibitions.

They included no intense emotional fluctuations, no staying up late, and no alcohol.

There were so many of them that I could hardly remember all, yet Harrison knew every one by heart.

In the past, he had been meticulous about following the doctor's orders for me.

Whenever we went out for business dinners or parties, he would position himself between me and any alcohol, ensuring I never had to drink.

People used to joke that he was whipped.

Everyone said I was fortunate. After all, no one else could get the famous Mr. Grant in Jinborough to shield them from drinks.

But in just a few years, nothing remained the same.

Harrison curled his lips into a careless smirk, though his eyes held no warmth.

He said, "What's the big deal? One sip won't kill you, will it?

"Lillian, stop bringing up that bullet in your head every time.

"If you really die, would it be enough if I paid with my own life?"

Seeing the earnestness in his expression, I could not help but laugh.

I replied, "Alright. You better keep your word, Harrison. If I die, you'll have to kill yourself."

Sophie rolled her eyes. "Seriously? As if your life could ever be worth as much as Mr. Grant's. You're nothing."

Harrison shot me an amused, mocking look and agreed without hesitation, "Deal."

Sophie threw a tantrum, clearly unwilling to accept this.

Harrison soothed her patiently. "All she has is the title of Mrs. Grant.

"But you? You have everything, except that title."

Everyone knew what he meant.

He'd give her everything, such as money and love.

He'd even give her the rarest thing of all—his genuine heart.