Chapter 1

After spending four years escaping a human trafficking ring, I returned only to witness my fiancé, Justin, celebrating his fourth anniversary with my best friend, Chloe.

He sneered at me:

"Who would marry damaged goods? You got yourself kidnapped because you were loose. How do you have the face to ask me why?"

Amidst the mocking laughter, Julian Vance, a wealthy heir, smashed Justin's face with an ashtray. He pulled me away, bought a ring on the spot, and married me.

He promised he would love me forever. He worked day and night to hunt down the human traffickers.

Until my father died in the line of duty during an arrest.

Terrified of losing Julian too, I never mentioned that dark past again. But then, I accidentally overheard a conversation between Justin and Julian.

"Chloe is doing great. Her mother escaped abroad, so you don't have to worry."

"That's good. Now that Clara's father is dead, I can't get any internal police files. I was worried we wouldn't be able to keep her mother safe."

They sighed in relief.

I froze. The coldness seeped into my bones, and I cried until I almost passed out.

When my tears ran dry, I decided to inherit my father's badge. I went home and prepared dinner just like any other night.

"If Clara joins the police force, she'll find out what we did sooner or later. Are you sure you won't get soft-hearted?"

Justin raised his glass. Julian sneered, putting out his cigarette in his drink.

"We've been married for six years, after all. I just hope she breaks her leg tonight and stops making a fuss..."

"Don't worry. For Chloe's sake, I'll personally send her on her final journey."

My phone slipped from my hands, clattering onto the floor.

The screen flashed with a notification: *Congratulations! You have passed the written exam for the police department.*

But the joy of receiving the text was gone. Crying, I rushed into the elevator and collapsed against the wall.

It was all a lie.

Fighting Justin for me was a lie. Pretending he had loved me for years was a lie.

We had lived as husband and wife for six years. Yet, the man sleeping next to me—the one I loved with all my heart—was the one who helped kill my father.

I walked aimlessly in the pouring rain. By the time I got home, I had a burning fever.

When I woke up, Julian was sitting by my bed, holding a bowl of warm ginger tea at the perfect temperature.

"Why didn't you pick up? I waited for you outside your office for so long."

"I washed your wet clothes. Get up and eat something to warm up. I made some chicken soup. Want me to add some gourmet ingredients?"

He wrapped a heated blanket around me, kissing me gently and tenderly.

"Stay back. I don't want to get you sick," I said.

I shrank away from his affection, but Julian caught my chin, tilting my face up.

"I don't care if I get sick. If I'm sick, you won't have to suffer alone."

He held my burning body tight.

For a second, it felt like a drowning person grasping at a lifeline, reminding me of his proposal six years ago.

Back then, I asked him if he minded my scarred, broken body. He had solemnly put the ring on my finger and whispered an intense, passionate "I love you."

"Let's eat first."

I sat up, but a sudden wave of nausea hit me. I rushed to the bathroom and threw up until my stomach was completely empty.

Julian looked at me with deep concern, pressing a hand to my forehead. His phone kept vibrating in his pocket. He shoved it deeper and said, "Get dressed. I'm taking you to the hospital."

The employees knew he never replied to messages after work hours. No one would dare bother him unless it was urgent.

"No need. I just need to rest after dinner."

Remembering his words—*I hope she breaks her leg*—I took two steps back in fear. But he grabbed my hand.

"Your physical fitness test is in two days. How can you ignore your health? Don't you want to inherit your father's badge?"

The rain was pouring outside. When Julian opened the door, the draft from the hallway made my eyes sting.

He knew everything. Yet, he was still determined to push me off the cliff.

"Julian."

Ignoring his slight panic and annoyance, I went to the fridge and pulled out a cake.

"Did you forget? Today is your birthday."

When I accidentally overheard his conversation with Justin, I had been holding the birthday surprise I bought for him.

"Who cares about birthdays at our age... Only you would remember."

"No need to blow out the candles. Sweetheart, if we don't go to the hospital right now, none of my wishes will come true."

My final test of him failed.

Julian pressed the elevator button and forced me downstairs.

A black car suddenly sped toward us. In a flash, Julian shoved me hard onto the concrete.

The agonizing pain knocked me out instantly.

When I woke up, the faint siren of an ambulance echoed in the distance. Julian and the driver were standing next to me.

"Are you sure we should inflict a secondary injury? If we twist it wrong, Clara might end up disabled. She might never walk again."

The driver who hit me sounded hesitant. But Julian was cold and resolute.

"We can't let her join the police department."

"Do it. I don't care if she's crippled. I'll take care of her for the rest of her life."

To keep Chloe safe, he was willing to go this far.

The driver stomped hard on my weak, helpless ankle. Every blow felt like a steel rod driving straight into my bone marrow.

I tilted my head, looking through blurred eyes at Julian.

He pulled out his lighter. After watching the driver take the first stomp, he trembled and turned his back to me.

"Sigh."

I couldn't tell if that soft whisper was from before I passed out or after I woke up.

When I opened my eyes again, Julian was leaning over my hospital bed, his brow furrowed with worry.

"...Julian?"

My voice was barely a whisper, but he bolted upright.

"Clara? Clara, you're awake! Does it still hurt? Nurse! Doctor! Someone come check on her!"

He stood up in a panic. Hearing me cough, he quickly poured a glass of water:

"How is your leg? Do you need painkillers? I rented a penthouse suite at a nearby hotel. If you feel uncomfortable, we can move there anytime."

"It doesn't hurt much anymore. Just my head. Can you get me some extra pillows and blankets?"

Julian nodded frantically and rushed out, nearly colliding with a nurse.

The two young nurses on duty saw how distraught he was and started whispering.

"When Mrs. Vance got into the accident, Mr. Vance couldn't stop crying. He hired a private chef and a personal maid on the spot."

"Mr. Vance used to be a famous eccentric in the art world. He only painted landscapes, never people. But after he met his wife, he painted nearly two hundred landscape portraits featuring her in a single year."

"Love at first sight, devotion for a lifetime. Mrs. Vance is so lucky."