His Regret, Her Reign

"Stop acting like you're dying. It's just a minor procedure."

Martha Lynn checked her diamond watch, tapping her foot impatiently against the sterile hospital floor. She looked at her daughter not with concern, but with the annoyance one might show a malfunctioning appliance.

Keira leaned heavily against the cold wall, her face the color of paper. Her legs were trembling so violently she could barely stand.

Minor procedure was an ironic way to describe a hymenoplasty performed without anesthesia.

But Keira didn't argue. She simply bit her lip, tasting blood, and forced herself to straighten up.

"I'm ready," Keira whispered, her voice hoarse from the screams she had swallowed earlier.

"Good," Martha sneered, handing her a coat to cover her trembling body. "Zoey lands in an hour. We cannot be late. You know how much Aiden cares about this family reunion. Don't ruin it with your sour face."

Aiden's name sent a phantom ache through Keira's freshly stitched wounds.

Her husband. The man who believed she was a promiscuous, soiled woman because she didn't show any signs on their wedding night. The man who ordered this barbaric surgery every time she displeased him, demanding she be restored to a purity he believed she had lost.

Keira followed her mother to the car, every step a torture. She was just a vessel to them. A punching bag for Aiden's rage, and a bargaining chip for Martha's greed.

The drive back to the Lynn Manor was suffocating. Martha spent the entire time on the phone, ensuring the press was ready for Zoey's return, completely ignoring Keira bleeding in the seat next to her.

When they arrived, the mansion was already buzzing with excitement.

"Zoey! My angel!"

The moment the front door opened, the atmosphere shifted from cold to ecstatic. Martha rushed forward, embracing the young woman who had just stepped out of a luxury sedan.

Zoey Lynn. The golden child. The legitimate daughter.

Dressed in limited-edition Chanel, Zoey looked like a princess. She hugged Martha, then her eyes, innocent and wide, landed on Keira, who was clutching the doorframe for support.

"Oh, Keira," Zoey smiled, a sweetness that didn't reach her eyes. "You look terrible. Did you stay up all night partying again?"

Martha's face instantly darkened. She turned to Keira, her voice sharp. "See? Even Zoey knows your reputation. Go take her luggage upstairs. Make yourself useful."

"Mom, she looks sick..." Zoey said softly, though she made no move to stop Martha.

"She's fine. She's just dramatic," Martha waved her hand dismissively. "Go, Keira. Now."

Keira gritted her teeth. The heavy Louis Vuitton bags felt like lead. Pain shot through her lower abdomen with every step up the grand staircase. Below her, the laughter of a happy family echoed—a family she was never part of.

But the real nightmare was yet to come.

That evening, the Coleman Estate was lit up like a beacon. Aiden had spared no expense to welcome Zoey home.

Keira stood in the corner of the ballroom, trying to blend into the shadows. She wore a high-necked, long-sleeved gown to hide the bruises and the cold sweat on her skin.

She prayed Aiden wouldn't notice her.

But fate was never kind to Keira.

"Enjoying the champagne?"

A cold, baritone voice sliced through the air. Keira froze. She looked up to see Aiden Coleman standing before her.

He was devastatingly handsome, with sharp features and eyes as deep and cold as the ocean. But those eyes held no love for her—only disgust.

"Aiden," she breathed.

He swirled the wine in his glass, stepping closer until he was invading her personal space. "I heard you went to the hospital today. Was the operation successful?"

His cruel whisper was loud enough for the nearby guests to hear. Snickers erupted around them.

Keira's face burned. "Why do you hate me so much? I have never been unfaithful to you."

"A liar and a whore," Aiden scoffed, his gaze piercing. "Your existence insults me, Keira. The only reason you are standing here is because of Zoey. Don't think for a second you are my wife."

"Aiden, stop it!"

Zoey appeared, looking breathless and beautiful in a shimmering silver dress. She grabbed Aiden's arm, her touch possessive.

"Don't ruin my welcome party by talking to her," Zoey pouted playfully. "Let's go dance."

Aiden's expression transformed instantly. The ice melted, replaced by a tenderness Keira had only ever dreamed of.

"You're right," Aiden said softly to Zoey. "She isn't worth my breath."

He turned his back on Keira and led Zoey to the dance floor.

Keira felt like she had been slapped. The physical pain from the surgery was nothing compared to this.

She turned and fled, stumbling toward the terrace, needing air. She collapsed onto a bench in the shadows, tears finally spilling over.

Why? She asked herself for the thousandth time. Why can't he see the truth?

Minutes later, footsteps approached. Keira held her breath, wiping her eyes, preparing to leave.

But voices stopped her.

"Aiden, I missed you so much." It was Zoey.

Keira peeked through the decorative plants. On the balcony, Zoey had her arms wrapped around Aiden's waist, her head resting on his chest.

"I missed you too," Aiden murmured, stroking Zoey's hair. "These three years... living with Keira has been hell. Every time I look at her, I wish it was you."

Keira's heart stopped.

"I know," Zoey sobbed softly. "It's my fault. If I hadn't gotten sick back then, you wouldn't have been forced to marry her to save the contract. You were supposed to be mine."

"You are mine," Aiden lifted Zoey's chin. "Keira is just a placeholder. A dirty, temporary placeholder. Once the merger is complete, I will throw her out."

The world crashed down around Keira.

It wasn't a misunderstanding. It wasn't about her virginity.

It was never about that.

He tortured her, humiliated her, and cut her open time and again, not because he thought she was impure—but because he hated her for simply not being Zoey.

He knew everything. He just didn't care.

Keira stood up in the shadows. The tears on her face dried instantly, replaced by a cold, hollow clarity.

She looked at the couple embracing in the moonlight—the husband she worshipped and the sister she envied.

"You want me gone, Aiden?" she whispered into the night wind. "Congratulations. You win."

She turned around and walked away. This time, she didn't limp.