Chapter 1 - Framed

Marietta’s POV

The world around me seemed to slow as my sister, Katty, tumbled down the golden staircase.

A scream tore from my throat.

I lunged forward, reaching for her, but it was too late.

“Katty! Somebody help! Anybody!” My voice was raw with panic.

I stumbled down after her, my heart pounding in terror as she landed with a sickening thud.

Gasps echoed around the grand hall, drawing the attention of the elegantly dressed guests. A murmur of disbelief rippled through the crowd, turning into hushed whispers, then sharp accusations.

“She pushed her!”

“After stealing her fiancé, now she wants her dead?”

“What kind of monster does that to her own sister?”

Tears blurred my vision. I barely registered the insults as I dropped to my knees beside Katty.

She clutched her stomach, wincing in pain. “Oww… my baby… please… save my baby…” Her trembling hands shoved mine away.

Then, her voice sharpened, loud enough for the entire room to hear. “Don’t touch me! You—murderer!”

The weight of her accusation crashed down on me. My breath hitched. Murderer?

No… no, this isn’t happening.

The sea of eyes on me felt suffocating. The murmurs turned into a vicious tide, growing louder.

I scrambled for words, for anything to make them stop. “No… I didn’t— I would never—”

A commotion at the entrance pulled everyone's attention.

Michael.

My husband. My lifeline.

Relief surged through me as his tall frame appeared in the doorway, his dark eyes scanning the chaos. He’ll listen to me. He’ll believe me.

I rushed toward him, grasping his arm. “Michael, I didn’t—”

But the moment he looked at me, I knew.

I saw it in his face— the betrayal, the disgust.

Without a word, he tore away from my grip and rushed to Katty’s side instead.

His voice was urgent. “Katty, are you alright?”

Katty whimpered, curling into his embrace. “No… I’m not okay… my baby…”

Michael’s gaze hardened as he turned toward the security team. “Call an ambulance! Now!”

I took a shaky step forward. “Michael, please. You know me—”

But before I could finish, his sharp glare cut through me like a blade.

“Don’t touch her.” His voice was cold. Ruthless.

I flinched. No. This isn’t him. This isn’t us.

“You did this on purpose, didn’t you?” His words came slow, deliberate. “God, Etta, how far were you willing to go?”

The knot in my throat tightened. “Michael, I—”

“You expect me to believe you?” His voice rose. “You’ve always been jealous of Katty. Always trying to hurt her. But this?” His eyes flashed with fury. “This is unforgivable.”

Something inside me shattered.

I had been terrified before, but nothing compared to this moment—

The moment I realized my husband didn’t trust me.

The paramedics arrived, cutting through the tension. Michael scooped Katty into his arms as she continued to cry.

“Please,” she whimpered, clutching his shirt. “Don’t let her near me.”

I stepped back, my chest tightening.

“Make sure nothing happens to her or the baby,” Michael ordered the paramedics. “Because if she loses that child, someone will pay.”

He didn’t have to say it.

I knew exactly who he meant.

I didn’t even remember how I got home.

One moment, I was surrounded by hundreds of people, drowning in their judgment.

The next, I was alone in our bedroom.

Empty.

I curled onto the bed, wrapping myself in the sheets that still smelled like him. Like us.

This morning, we had been tangled together in these very sheets.

“I love you, Marietta.”

He had whispered those words as he moved inside me, his touch possessive, his lips tender.

Now?

Now, he looked at me like I was nothing.

A stranger. A murderer.

I clutched the sheets tighter, my mind spiraling. He loves me. He has to.

I had convinced myself that, despite the arranged marriage, despite the obligations, there was something real between us.

Had I been a fool?

Was I really that easy to throw away?

The sound of the front door slamming shut jolted me back to reality.

Michael.

He was back.

I wiped my tears, inhaling sharply. This is my chance.

I had to explain. He had to listen.

I reached for the door, my hands trembling.

But before I could step out, his voice cut through the silence.

“I want a divorce.”