Chapter 1
My phone screen was shattered, cracks bursting from the center and catching a drop of blood that had just slid down from my temple.
That spot of red pierced my eyes, making them ache.
The car was twisted like a pretzel, one half clinging to the shattered guardrail halfway up the mountain, the other half dangling over the abyss.
Outside the window, a bottomless canyon yawned below. The wind howled in, wild and fierce, filling the air with the sharp tang of rust and gasoline.
I summoned my last bit of strength and dialed Robin Ford's number.
The ringtone kept ringing stubbornly for what felt like ages before he finally picked up.
"Lauren, you'd better have something earth-shattering to say," he snapped.
His voice came through the receiver, still laced with that same superior, irritated tone, like I owed him millions.
On the other end, the soft voice of the airport announcer came through loud and clear.
My thoughts were all over the place, and I could barely string a sentence together.
"Robin, I..."
"I don't have time for your nonsense," he snapped. "Sylvia twisted her ankle in Cloudmere and she's all alone in the hospital, poor thing. I'm off to the airport."
Sylvia Katte was the girl he cared about most.
She sprained her ankle and he'd drop a billion-dollar deal, cross the globe, just to be by her side.
And me, his lawfully wedded wife, was trapped under a wrecked car, covered in blood, teetering on the edge of a cliff.
I tried to speak, but not a single word came out.
That sharp, bloody tang of iron flooded my throat. I hacked hard, blood splattering across the steering wheel, so vivid it burned into my eyes.
Suddenly, the pain vanished, leaving only numbness behind.
My chest felt empty and hollow.
*****
Cold wind spiraled in, burrowing deep inside me.
"Why aren't you saying anything? What are you trying to pull now?" Robin's voice grew even more impatient. "Lauren, I'm warning you. Don't cause trouble for me at a time like this."
I looked out at the gray, hazy sky.
Suddenly, everything was quiet.
I finally managed to speak, my voice barely a whisper.
"Okay, I won't cause any more trouble."
"That's better," he said, sounding pleased, his tone finally relaxing. "Alright, don't call me again unless it's urgent."
But he didn't hang up right away.
I heard him mutter angrily to someone nearby.
It must have been his assistant.
"Book the fastest flight, now! Money doesn't matter!"
The line went dead with a click.
The world was suddenly still.
I put my phone down, staring at the streak of blood on the shattered screen, and let out a bitter laugh.
As I laughed, tears rolled down my cheeks, mixing with the blood, which was sticky and cold against my skin.
I felt I was such an idiot.
I wondered what I expect to get out of these three years.
Three years ago, when the Ford and Connor families arranged their marriage alliance, I was just the pawn they pushed forward. Everyone said my ancestors must be smiling on me, getting to marry Robin.
And I actually believed it.
I smoothed out all my rough edges, set aside everything I liked, and tried to become the perfect Mrs. Ford.
He liked a quiet home, so I stopped inviting friends over. No more laughter, no more noise.
His stomach was weak, so I learned to make soup from a five-star chef. I'd guard the pot for hours, and my hands got scarred from the burns.
He said he hated the smell of paint, so I packed away all my art supplies in the storage room. The hands that used to hold a paintbrush now only gripped a spatula.
I always thought I could make him care.
But I forgot his heart belonged to someone else long ago.
Sylvia's name was a constant poison in our marriage, always there, always hurting.
Locked away in his study drawer was a photo of him and Sylvia. He was smiling like some goofy kid without a care in the world, a look I'd never seen on him.
Tucked in his wallet was a birthday card Sylvia gave him when she turned eighteen.
The code to our home was Sylvia's birthday.
I did try to fight back, more than once.
The first time I saw those things, I broke down, begging him through tears to put them away.
He just stared at me, his eyes colder than ice, not a hint of warmth.
"Lauren, we spelled it out when we got married. This is just business. You play Mrs. Ford, enjoy your good life, and don't get greedy," he said, voice flat.
After that, I just stopped bringing it up.
I got good at pretending not to see, good at fooling myself.
Sylvia was out of the country now, halfway across the world. What could she possibly do? I was the one right here with him. I told myself if I stick around long enough, maybe I'd finally get my shot.
Until today, I still believed things could change.
Whether she's a world away or right beside him, it didn't matter at all.
He just didn't love me.
She just twisted her ankle.