Chapter 1

At my grandfather's funeral, my husband's secretary burst through the doors in tears. She dropped to her knees in front of the crowd, slamming her forehead against the floor until blood seeped into the marble.

"I know your grandfather was the patriarch of New York's biggest old-money family, but you can't just bury me alive with him!"

Furious, my husband Clayton ordered me to work at a funeral home for three months as punishment.

When the three months were up, he came to take me home.

Seeing me with my head bowed, praying devoutly over a corpse, a satisfied smile spread across his face.

"Looks like you finally cured that arrogant temper of yours. Let's go. I'm taking you home."

Instead, I looked down at the corpse and let out a soft, tender laugh.

"Wake up soon, darling. When you wake up, we'll go to the park. We can lie on the grass and look at the flowers, okay?"

Clayton's face instantly darkened.

"Three months in a morgue and you're still pulling this psychotic act?"

Right then, my stomach churned violently. I doubled over, dry heaving.

I picked up the corpse's freezing, stiff hand and pressed it gently against my lower belly.

"Be good, baby. Let Daddy feel you. Stop giving Mommy such a hard time, okay?"

When Clayton arrived at the funeral home to pick me up after three long months, I was sweating profusely, hauling a heavy body bag.

"Karina dropped the charges, Eve," Clayton said, his tone magnanimous. "She's not going to the cops about you trying to use her as a human sacrifice. We came specifically to take you home. Are you done throwing this tantrum?"

I didn't answer.

A transport van pulled up to the entrance. It looked like a new delivery. I dropped what I was holding and jogged over to help unload the casket.

Watching me expertly assist with the heavy lifting, a hint of relief flashed in Clayton's eyes.

"Still stubborn. But I can tell you've learned your lesson."

He opened his arms toward me.

"Come here. Let's go home."

I brushed right past him, sat down on a nearby bench, and calmly resumed knitting a fluffy wool scarf.

Beside him, his secretary Karina couldn't hold back a quiet snicker. She looped her arm through Clayton's, her voice dripping with sweet concern.

"Eve, please. Clayton pushed back three important board meetings just to come get you. Don't break his heart acting like this."

Clayton's expression immediately hardened. He shot me a look laced with impatience.

I held up the half-finished scarf, measuring it against the empty air.

"My husband is a tall man. I wonder if this is long enough yet. Maybe I should have him try it on first."

Clayton instinctively chuckled, his ego stroked. He took a long stride toward me and reached out.

I didn't even glance at him. Carrying the scarf, I walked straight into the cold storage room.

Clayton froze for a second before storming after me.

"Eve, I am your husband. Where the hell are you going?!"

Under the shocked gazes of everyone in the room, I walked up to an autopsy table and meticulously wrapped the scarf around a corpse's neck.

The man lying there still had a lean, powerful build, the sharp outlines of his abs glaringly obvious under the harsh fluorescent lights.

I adjusted the ends. A perfect fit.

The skin wrapped in the wool seemed to catch a fraction of warmth. Satisfied, I lightly tapped the tip of his cold nose.

"Wake up soon, darling, okay? When you wake up, we'll go for a walk in the park. We'll look at the flowers and sunbathe on the grass."

Clayton's face mottled with rage. A low roar ripped from his throat.

"Is this how you curse me?! You keep acting like a lunatic, Eve, I swear to God I'll walk out that door and let you rot here!"

In the past, he always used his presence and our marriage as a weapon, knowing how desperately I loved him.

Every single time, I would instantly cave and beg for his forgiveness.

But this time, it was as if I hadn't heard a word. I simply kept my head down, gently massaging the stiff limbs of the body in front of me.

The man's muscles slowly yielded under my hands, feeling just a little less rigid.

Panic finally cracked Clayton's arrogant facade. He summoned the funeral home manager and barked,

"I gave strict orders to take care of Eve! She was only supposed to do light clerical work. What the hell did you people do to her?"

His roar echoed off the stainless steel walls.

The manager turned pale and bowed his head.

"Mr. Clayton, we haven't dared let Mrs. Hale lift a finger these past three months. She was perfectly fine until a few days ago, when she suddenly started fighting us to do the heavy labor..."

As Clayton frowned in confusion, Karina suddenly rushed forward and dropped to her knees in front of me.

"Oh, I get it. Eve, stop torturing him! You're just pretending to do heavy labor to make Clayton feel guilty!"

"I know you've always hated me. Just make peace with Clayton, and I swear I'll disappear from your lives forever!"

Clayton's heart ached for her. He quickly pulled her up from the cold floor.

"Karina is under my protection. Unless I say so, no one is driving you away."

When he looked back at me, his eyes were as cold as a brewing storm.

"You haven't learned a damn thing. Just cheaper, dirtier tricks. Let's see how long you can keep this act up."

He lunged at me, snatching the scarf from my hands. His large hand clamped down on my wrist like a vise, forcefully dragging me toward the door.

My voice cracked as I screamed.

"Give it back! I am never leaving my husband!"

Unable to break his grip, I grabbed a metal knitting needle off the prep table and drove it straight into his arm.