1

"Where is this?"

When Chloe Bishop woke up, she found herself in an unfamiliar room. Her head was spinning, and her whole body felt terrible.

She immediately tried to get out of bed and leave. Tomorrow was her wedding to As—she had waited six years for this day, and it was finally almost here. Nothing could go wrong now.

Outside the door, Liam Martin leaned against the wall and lit a cigarette. His face was expressionless as he looked at the man before him. "Go in. Just don't kill her."

The man hesitated and asked once more, "Mr. Martin, are you sure about this?"

The woman inside was New York City's top socialite. She was also this man's fiancée—and they were getting married tomorrow!

"Go in. I won't say it a third time."

Liam Martin's voice was calm, pleasant to the ear, but his words cut like shards of ice.

Soon, screams erupted from inside. "Who are you?! Stay back... what are you doing... let go of me... help...!"

Outside the door, Liam Martin listened to Chloe Bishop's desperate cries for help. He stood there cold and unmoved, his mind filled with images of another woman—bruised and broken.

Chloe Bishop, don't blame me. You're not innocent either.

He didn't believe for a second that she knew nothing about what Charles Bishop had done.

A few hours earlier.

"Liam Martin, we found the one who imprisoned Sara."

"Who is it?"

Liam Martin stood beside the bed, his tall frame casting a shadow as he gazed at the woman sleeping quietly. Her face was pale, her body gaunt, and bruises covered her from head to toe. It was clear what she had endured.

Brandon Jay gritted his teeth and spat out two words: "Charles Bishop."

Him. The father of Liam Martin's fiancée, Chloe Bishop.

"I see."

Liam Martin's voice remained soft, but beneath it lurked a storm of blood and vengeance. "You're Sara's brother. What do you want to do?"

"Drag Chloe Bishop out here. Whatever Charles Bishop did to Sara, I want to take it back tenfold, a hundredfold—from his daughter."

When Liam Martin didn't answer right away, Brandon Jay's voice turned sharp with anger. "Having second thoughts? Of course you are—you and Chloe Bishop are getting married tomorrow. Naturally you'd hesitate. Too bad Sara suffered so much for you."

"There won't be a wedding tomorrow."

Liam Martin's reply was cold and final. "I'll give you and Sara an answer."

From the day Charles Bishop imprisoned Sara Jay, every kindness the Bishop family had shown him over the years meant nothing. He should never have crossed that line.

Inside the room, Chloe Bishop struggled with all her might, but her body grew weaker by the second. Her clothes were being torn from her. She screamed in despair, "Help me... As, help me...!"

Tears streamed down her cheeks and soaked into her hair.

Why is this happening? Tomorrow I'm supposed to marry As. I wanted to give myself to him completely—all of me. Why?!

Hearing her call his name, Liam Martin drew faster on his cigarette, smoke curling through the air. After tonight, Chloe Bishop would be ruined beyond repair.

His mind drifted back to six years ago. That day, a girl like a princess had walked toward him with unwavering steps, pointed at him, and said, "I choose him as my fiancé."

Everyone knew that the gifted eldest grandson of the Martin family had lost a leg in a car accident—but she chose him anyway. From that moment on, the boy cast aside by his family finally had something to rebuild his life with.

Liam Martin stubbed out his cigarette and pulled out his phone, dialing a number. "Stop. Get out now."

Chloe Bishop. Consider this repayment for what you did six years ago.

Brandon Jay stepped out from the corner, his expression dark with disappointment. "So you went soft after all. Is that fair to Sara?"

Liam Martin's voice stayed flat. "Sara is kind. She wouldn't want us to do this. Tomorrow's wedding—I'll give you and her an answer."

Morning.

"As... help me...!"

Chloe Bishop shot up from her nightmare with a scream, her hair wet with tears.

She immediately looked down and checked her clothes—still intact, perfectly in place. Her wrists and chest bore no marks. And she was in her own bedroom.

Just a dream? Then why did it feel so real?

So vivid that her heart ached as if it had been carved open.

But if it wasn't a dream, how could her torn clothes still be on her body? How could there be no bruises?

And if it wasn't a dream, how could she have seen Liam Martin standing outside the door while she was being humiliated inside?

Sara Jay. She hadn't heard that name in years.

Was her mind playing tricks on her because today was her wedding day—dragging up buried fears from the depths of her heart?

"Chloe, get up! Today's the most important day for you and As—no sleeping in!"

Her mother's voice came from outside the door, and Chloe Bishop's tense body slowly relaxed. It really was just a nightmare.

Two hours later, Chloe Bishop sat before the mirror in her wedding gown, her face radiant with joy. Her mother carefully brushed her hair as the reflection staring back was breathtakingly beautiful.

Chloe Bishop was famous in New York City—168 centimeters tall, slender-boned, with curves in all the right places and an elegant oval face that was both delicate and striking. She was hailed as the city's top socialite.

But the most remarkable thing about her was her skin—smooth as white jade, fair and luminous, like a peeled egg, so flawless it seemed it might break at the gentlest touch.

Everyone who saw her marveled at her natural beauty.

"Look at you—my daughter is so beautiful."

Her mother's eyes welled up as she gazed at her daughter in the wedding gown. "My precious girl is finally getting married. From now on, you'll manage the home while he handles the world outside. Build a good life with As, have children, keep the family happy and harmonious—make it a story people will tell."

Chloe Bishop smiled and squeezed her mother's hand. "Mom, I'll be happy. I believe As will be a wonderful husband."

Her mother pulled her into a tight embrace, her voice choked with tears. "If he ever treats you badly, your father and I will make him pay."

From the side, Charles Bishop spoke, his voice rough. "Enough. This is our daughter's happiest day—don't say such gloomy things."

Chloe Bishop reached out and touched her mother's pregnant belly, her bright, radiant face wrapped in pure happiness. "Dad, Mom, don't worry. As promised me he'd treat me well for the rest of my life. I believe he'll never betray me."

At twenty-two, Chloe Bishop had never doubted Liam Martin.

He was a man of immense talent and a gentle, considerate boyfriend—flawless in every way. She trusted he would be a good husband and a good father.

As for that unsettling dream—it could never happen. She had been by Liam Martin's side for six years. They had been through so much together. No one could tear them apart.

But Chloe Bishop didn't notice the shadow of worry that flickered in her father's eyes as he watched her happy smile.

At the Martin residence.

In Liam Martin's room lay a beautiful woman. She was thin, her pale skin covered in scars, one side of her face swollen and bruised.

This woman was Sara Jay—the very one from Chloe Bishop's nightmare.