LOGINIn my fifth year of marriage to Dominic, I'd become the woman all of Chicago knew as the crazy one — the mental case. Jealousy gnawed at me constantly, and my temper frayed easily, my emotions sharp and unsteady, unravelling more with each passing day. So it only made sense when he slid a divorce agreement across the table. "Vivian's pregnant. A Harrington heir can't be born illegitimate, and Mrs. Harrington can't be a lunatic." "Once she's had the baby, I’ll marry you again, and you'll still be Mrs. Harrington." I was forced to sign my name, then locked away in a private sanatorium a hundred miles from the city. The first year, I waited with desperate hope for him to come take me home. Instead, he handed me an ultrasound report. "Twins — a boy and a girl. Vivian's pregnant again. Just wait a little longer." The second year, he had electric fencing installed around the sanatorium grounds. "Harrington Corp is going public. We can't afford any slip-ups right now." By the fifth year, he simply called to tell me to wait one more year. He must have expected me to scream and lose control the way I always did. But this time, I just nodded calmly. "Alright. However long it takes." After all. I didn't have much time left anyway.
View MoreThe day I was buried, it rained in Chicago for the first time in weeks—a soft, fine drizzle.Dominic had cleared his entire schedule. He didn't tell anyone he was coming. He arrived early, wearing the same outfit he'd worn the day we first met.The woman in the photo on the headstone was smiling brightly—young, radiant.He'd had yellow roses flown in from across the country, my favorite flower, and laid them out himself, one by one, until the entire cemetery was carpeted in gold.It was nearly noon by the time he finished. He wiped the sweat from his brow and spoke quietly:"Claire, Vivian's dead. By the end, she was barely recognizable. I avenged you. I know you're kind—I know you wouldn't have wanted it—but I couldn't let it go.""Claire, everyone says you're supposed to bring lilies to a grave. But I won't. You were born to live loud. I was the one who took that from you.""These are your favorite flowers. A worthless man like me can only selfishly wish that from now on, you'll go w
The first light of morning fell through the window onto Dominic.I hovered beside him, watching him stare at the paternity test results in his hands. Neither child shared his blood.He sat in the hospital corridor with his head bowed, his eyes dark and unreadable.Ten years of knowing him—I understood him too well. This was how he always looked when he was hurting.Ever since he'd taken over the family company, he'd carried the weight of it all behind a polished exterior. Joy and grief alike had become things he could never freely show."Claire, if you were still here... would we still be that happy? When I was sad, would you still smile at me and coax me out of it?"Too little, too late. Even now, all he could think about was how useful I'd been to him.Disgusting.The Dominic in front of me was drowning in anguish, but all I felt was that he'd brought this on himself."No—" He caught himself and let out a brief, self-aware laugh. "A man like me would never have appreciated what you w
Dominic stood in the living room, barely able to believe what he'd just heard.The children sleeping in the nursery—the ones he'd raised for four years—weren't his. And the woman he'd thrown away a good, stable marriage for had never truly loved him at all."What have I done?"He'd still been holding onto the thought that Vivian had, at least, genuinely carried and borne him two children. That her life had been hard enough to deserve some mercy—a sum of money large enough to keep her comfortable for the rest of her days.But now.Dominic drew a deep breath. Then his voice cut through the silence like a blade:"Vivian, what the hell are you doing?"Vivian flinched at the sound of his voice. Her body went rigid. She had no idea how much he'd overheard, so she steadied herself and slowly turned around:"Dominic? I couldn't sleep, so I came down for some water. Do you want some? Let me pour you a glass—"Dominic ignored her performance entirely. He just stared at her, unblinking."You knew
After I died that day, my soul drifted free of my body. I hovered beside Dominic and watched as he walked through the door, laughing one moment and weeping the next. I spoke quietly into the silence:"I told you more than once. You just never listened."He seemed to hear my voice. His head snapped up, eyes searching the space where I floated:"Claire, I think I just heard your voice. Is that you? Were you waiting for me?"Then he let out a bitter, self-mocking laugh:"Look at me -- hearing things now. And even if you were here, you probably wouldn't want to see me anyway."The heavy door was locked again behind him. He took my body to the morgue, and I had no choice but to follow.The whole ordeal took the rest of the day. By the time he returned to the Harrington Estate, it was deep into the night. Dominic had spent the entire afternoon moving my belongings from the sanatorium, piece by piece."I'm sleeping in the study tonight. Don't wait up."Vivian stood in the bedroom doorway, wa






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