Chapter 1

Ethan Vance stepped right over my blood-soaked body to save his falling mistress.

"Stella, she’s carrying my baby! If anything happens to them, I will never forgive you!"

I crawled through the shattered glass, my palms sliced open and bleeding. Still, I desperately clutched the military dog tag that had been my lifeline through years of war.

Three years ago, I took a bullet for him. My right knee was completely shattered.

Holding my blood-covered body, he had sworn to God that he would never let another woman carry his child.

But today, he carried a three-month-pregnant Chloe out of the estate, never once looking back at me.

I dragged myself back into my wheelchair, wiped my tears, and logged into the encrypted system that had been locked away for years.

In three days, Stella Brooks would cease to exist.

And he would never find me again.

**Stella’s POV**

Ethan’s personal drone feed was always synced to my tablet.

Originally, he set this up so I could watch the construction progress of the wildlife rescue station he was building for me.

But right now, the screen was playing a scene that made my blood run cold.

In the desert, a customized black Jeep was tearing through the sand dunes.

Ethan sat in the driver’s seat. He held the steering wheel with one hand, a cigarette dangling from his lips, his eyes wild and untamed.

In the passenger seat sat a young girl in a tight tank top and cargo pants. She was screaming with excitement, leaning halfway out the window, shouting into the wind.

"Ethan, driving this crazy? Aren't you afraid your wife will get mad?" Her voice was bright, dripping with youthful energy.

Ethan let out a low laugh, blowing a ring of smoke. The wind scattered his words, but every syllable pierced my heart.

"She can barely walk now. A gust of wind sends her straight to the ER. She’s too fragile. She can’t handle this kind of thrill. But you—you’re wild. I like that."

The girl giggled, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

Ethan didn’t pull away. Instead, he spun the wheel harder, making her scream in delight.

Sitting in my wheelchair, I looked down at the hideous scar on my right leg and calmly hit pause.

No screaming. No tears.

I just felt like this multi-million-dollar sterile recovery suite was suddenly suffocating. I wanted to throw up.

Three years ago, in the African savanna, I pushed him out of the way of a poacher’s sniper. A hollow-point bullet shattered my knee.

Stella Brooks—the combat medic and wildlife photographer who could hike through rain forests with fifty pounds of gear—died that day.

Ethan had held my bloody body and cried like a lunatic.

He knelt outside the OR and swore that he would be my legs for the rest of his life. He promised to worship me like a goddess and never let me suffer.

And he did. At least, at first.

He hired the world's best medical team to save my leg, even though I was confined to crutches and a wheelchair.

He brought me back to LA, built this fortress of an estate, and monitored my vitals twenty-four hours a day.

Everyone in our circle said billionaire Ethan Vance was a saint. They said he gave up his wild nature to care for a disabled woman.

But they didn't know that saints get bored.

He had locked an eagle with broken wings in a golden cage, while he flew out into the wild to chase a fresh, lively bird.

I shut the video and opened an encrypted dark web page.

It was the recruitment portal for the UN Peacekeepers' "Operation Zero."

It was a high-risk medical rescue mission in an active war zone. The mortality rate was sky-high.

Once you joined, your entire identity, records, and background would be wiped clean to protect you from retaliation.

Without hesitation, I typed in my name and hit submit.

A second later, red text flashed on the screen: *Application approved. The extraction team will arrive at your coordinates in three days at midnight. Prepare for identity reset.*

I closed the laptop and let out a long breath.

Three days.

Ethan, in three days, I’m giving you your freedom back.

At 10 PM, the bedroom door gently pushed open.

Ethan walked in, smelling faintly of medical disinfectant.

His germaphobia and obsessive control were severe. Every time he came back from the outside, he had to shower and sanitize before seeing me.

He walked quickly to my wheelchair, knelt on one knee, and placed my right leg over his lap. His broad palms began to expertly massage my atrophied muscles.

"Stella, does it hurt today? Did you take your meds on time?"

He looked up at me, his dark eyes filled with a sickly, obsessive devotion.

Looking at his handsome, loving face, all I could see was him speeding through the desert with that girl.

My stomach churned.

"It doesn't hurt," I said, pulling my leg back. "Where were you today?"

Ethan’s hand froze in mid-air. His eyes flickered, but he quickly recovered, gently grabbing my hand to kiss my knuckles.

"Just inspecting some new projects. Boring business meetings. The dust was bad outside, and I didn’t want to irritate your lungs, so I showered at the office before coming home."

He lied so smoothly his heart rate didn’t even change.

"I see," I said, looking into his eyes. "You work so hard."

Ethan seemed to sense my coldness. Suddenly, he grew anxious.

He stood up, lifted me from the wheelchair, and pulled me tightly into his chest. He held me so hard my bones ached.

"Stella, are you mad because I haven’t been spending enough time with you? I won’t go to the office tomorrow. I’ll stay home and play with you, okay? Don't look at me like that. It scares me."

He buried his face in my neck, breathing me in like a starving dog.

I let him hold me, my arms hanging limply at my sides. I didn’t hug him back like I used to.

"Ethan, you’re hurting me."

He let go instantly, his face pale with panic as he checked my body. "I’m sorry, Stella! I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. I just... I just love you so much."

Love?

Looking at the red veins in his eyes, I only felt pity.

"I’m tired. I want to sleep." I closed my eyes, not wanting to look at his fake face anymore.

Ethan carefully tucked me into bed. He sat by my side, staring at me until my breathing became even.

In the dark, I heard him whisper, "Stella, you’re mine forever. No one will ever take you from me."

I didn’t open my eyes. I just counted down in my head.

Two days left.

***