Chapter 2

Disgust.

Humiliation.

Despair.

They crashed over Tanya like a filthy wave, drowning her all at once.

She couldn't listen anymore.

She spun around and fled the hotel, stumbling wildly into the night.

The wind was bitterly cold, cutting across her face like a knife.

But Tanya couldn't feel it.

Her entire body was burning, her blood boiling with rage and pain.

She ran blindly down the street as tears poured from her eyes, only to be swept away by the wind.

She had never forgotten what happened when she was eighteen.

That night, she'd been working part-time at a hotel when a drunk man dragged her into a room.

He was tall and handsome, dressed head to toe in expensive designer clothes. One look at him was enough to tell her he came from money.

He pinned her to the bed.

No matter how much she cried or struggled, he forced himself on her.

Afterward, when the man sobered up, he apologized.

He told her someone had drugged him.

That he hadn't meant to do it.

He said he'd take responsibility and give her however much money she wanted.

But Tanya didn't want his money.

She wanted him to pay for what he'd done.

So she went to the police.

When the man was taken away, there was a complicated look in his eyes.

Guilt.

Regret.

And something else Tanya couldn't understand.

Later, she learned just how powerful his family was.

They were already pulling strings, and it wouldn't be long before they got him out.

Tanya was terrified.

And furious.

Why should a rich, powerful man be able to assault a woman and walk away without paying any price at all?

For days, she barely slept.

Nightmares plagued her whenever she closed her eyes, and she woke night after night with her pillow soaked in tears.

Then, not long afterward, she heard that the man had suffered a fatal heart attack in prison.

He was dead.

And Tanya had actually felt relieved.

She'd thought it was karma.

But the trauma of what he'd done to her had never gone away.

It had buried itself deep inside her.

She was afraid of men.

She couldn't stand physical intimacy.

She felt dirty and unworthy of being loved.

Until she met Preston.

If Tanya casually mentioned liking something, Preston would go to ridiculous lengths to make her happy.

Once, he rented out an entire concert hall and brought in a world-class orchestra to perform just for her.

Whenever she had bad cramps, he'd put aside all his usual pride and awkwardly make her a warm drink himself. Even when he burned his fingers, he'd act as though it were nothing.

“Doesn't hurt.”

On every anniversary, there were carefully chosen gifts and romantic surprises.

He made her feel treasured.

Deeply, completely loved.

Except there had been accidents along the way.

Two years ago, she'd been in a car accident that damaged the nerves in her fingers.

She could no longer play the piano at a professional level.

Just like that, her dream of becoming a concert pianist had been destroyed.

Then a year ago, she'd discovered she was pregnant.

She'd been overjoyed.

But not long afterward, she slipped on the stairs and lost the baby.

Every time something terrible happened, Preston seemed even more devastated than she was.

He blamed himself.

He stayed by her side and took care of her so attentively that Tanya could never bring herself to resent him.

She'd only blamed herself for being careless and making him worry.

But now she knew.

None of those things had been accidents.

Preston had planned every single one.

He had never loved her.

For five years, he'd simply been carrying out a long, cruel revenge scheme.

He'd even found the thought of touching her so disgusting that he'd sent another man to take his place.

What kind of sick, twisted lie had she been living for the past five years?

Tanya had no idea how long she ran.

By the time her strength finally gave out, her legs could barely hold her up.

She collapsed by the side of the road, wrapped her arms around her knees, and cried without making a sound.

Eventually, there were no tears left.

Only the raw sting in her eyes and a cold, hollow emptiness inside her.

No.

She couldn't stay here.

She couldn't spend another second by Preston's side.

Tanya raced home.

She rushed straight into Preston's study and began searching.

Drawers.

Cabinets.

File shelves.

She tore through everything in a frantic mess, throwing papers and belongings everywhere.

Finally, in the bottom drawer of his desk, she found it.

The divorce agreement.

Preston had already signed it.

The date beside his signature was from three months ago.

Three months.

He'd had all of this planned for three months.

Tanya stared at the agreement as tears fell onto the pages one by one, smearing the ink around Preston's signature.

She picked up a pen.

Her hand shook violently as she signed her own name.

Every stroke felt like another cut carved into her heart.

When she was finished, she sent her attorney a message.

“I want a divorce. I've emailed you the signed agreement. Please start the process for me. As quickly as possible.”