CHAPTER TWO

Lauren woke up on a bed that didn’t look any bit familiar.

She had thought she would wake up from the dream until she saw the back view of her husband again.

He was pouring boiling water from a kettle into a saucer.

He turned immediately as if he knew she was awake and offered her green tea.

She refused to drink and glared at him.

“What are you back for?”

He was confused. “How?”

“I am in a relationship. I have had sex with someone else. Not once, not twice, like countless times! You can’t appear from nowhere and claim me as your wife. My body belongs to someone else now.”

He didn’t flinch. His eyes set in something that looked like love and obsession. “Your body still belongs to me.”

“What if... what if I’m pregnant?”

“You will have the child and give it back to the father and then we continue...”

She slapped him. “How dare you!!!”

He glared at her. “I will never let go of you for anyone. Never.”

“What if I plan to divorce you?”

Ethan’s face hardened. His voice was low but steady, filled with a certainty that sent a chill down her spine.

“You won’t be able to.”

Lauren narrowed her eyes. “Why not?”

“Because legally, you’re still my wife.” He took a step closer. “The moment I resurfaced, I filed to have the declaration of my death overturned. Until the court officially rules on it, the divorce papers you think you filed mean nothing.”

She shook her head in disbelief. “You can’t just block a divorce.”

“I can,” he said, voice calm but deadly serious. “The court can’t finalize a divorce when I was never served, never given a chance to defend my marriage. I’ve already filed motions to vacate any decisions made without me. And with my lawyers? The best money can buy—they’ll make sure this drags on.”

Lauren’s heart hammered. “Even if I want to be free?”

“Even then.” He locked eyes with her. “And legally, you moving on while I was ‘dead’ looks like abandonment. That gives me leverage. The law doesn’t care about feelings, only facts. Facts say we’re still married, and until that changes, you belong to me.”

She swallowed hard, words failing her as he stared down the fight in her eyes.

“Your new life? Your fiancé? None of that matters until I say so.”

He poured himself a cup of tea and sipped it calmly, the war just beginning.

She stepped into Ethan’s grand bathroom, the warmth of the marble under her feet contrasting with the cold storm inside her heart.

As the shower poured down her head, tears slipped quietly down her cheeks.

She had missed him terribly, but the thought of being married to him again felt impossible.

She had mourned, given up, and then he came back to confuse everything.

Someone had tried to kill him. Who would do such a thing?

She stepped out of the shower and spotted a dress and a pair of shoes laid out on the bed. Her breath caught.

That dress—it was the exact same yellow sundress with dark embroidery around the collar she had worn when he proposed in Texas.

The dress she had sold, stained with sweat and memories.

Shivering, she slipped into it, trying to steady herself. A cold wave of fear ran through her when she remembered the properties she’d sold—the ones they’d bought together in Europe to save up.

What if he found out?

She hurried to style her hair into a neat beehive, then pulled out the red lipstick she always carried and carefully applied it.

Reaching into her bag, she pulled out her phone and froze. Sixty missed calls. Forty-two were from Caleb Monroe.

Her heart raced. She jumped to her feet and moved toward the door just as Ethan walked in, carrying a plate of pancakes and a cup of tea.

“Eat before you go. It’s not a request,” he said firmly.

She scoffed, “Not a request?”

She tried to leave but stopped when he spoke again.

“Should I start by getting my properties back, or are you going to sit and eat?”

Panic surged through her. How did he find out?

She sat down, accepting the pancakes and tea, chewing nervously.

“Remember, it was our joint account,” she said quietly.

He chuckled softly. “You only had five hundred dollars there—from your nursing savings. I had thirty thousand.”

She looked at him, embarrassed.

“We used that to buy properties in Europe—small places mostly in rural spots. Nothing fancy, but enough to grow our savings.”

Ethan took a sip of tea, eyes darkening. “You sold them off after you thought I was gone. To start your fashion store in Beverly Hills.”

She nodded, biting her lip. “I sold the houses in Romania and Portugal—old cottages and some farmland. It wasn’t much, but it gave me the seed money I needed.”

Ethan’s voice was steady but calmer. “I’m not blaming you for getting your life together, Lauren. I’m glad you were able to take care of yourself while I was away. You pulled your life back together. I know you did it while mourning… it must have been really hard.”

Tears welled up in Lauren’s eyes. “Once I’m able to pay you the thirty thousand dollars, will you sign the divorce papers?”

He chuckled softly. “You’re crazy.”

“I don’t want to be your wife anymore, Ethan.”

“Why?”

“It’s complicated right now. Besides… I love someone else.”

He searched her eyes, voice low. “…And if I say I don’t believe you?”

Lauren looked at him and shook her head. “It’s obvious, Ethan.”

Without another word, she dumped the remaining pancake and tea and walked out.

Lauren dialed Granny Rosa. The phone picked up immediately, Granny’s croaked voice loud on the other end.

“My child, where have you been? Come to the hall right away. Capuchin Hall. It’s my after-birthday event.”

Without hesitation, Lauren drove straight to the hall.

When she arrived, she was hit by the greatest shock of her life.

Caleb Monroe was down on one knee, holding out a ring.