Chapter 2

“You can leave now,” Travis said, his voice cold, even though his body still burned with heat.

He had lost control tonight. Shouted a name he shouldn't have. That wasn’t like him, but oddly, he didn’t care if she figured it out or spread the word. Let her disrupt his peace as much as she wanted.

Hailey didn’t plan to stay a second longer.

“Can I use the bathroom?” she asked, her voice flat.

But when Travis looked at her, sharp and unreadable, her pride crumbled. She just wanted to clean up and leave.

“I’ll give you five minutes,” he said.

Hailey clenched her jaw. It wasn’t just the ache in her body—it was the sting of being nothing but a replacement for someone else.

She stumbled into the bathroom, turned on the water. The heat burned her skin, but she welcomed it. At least it masked the sting of humiliation.

She washed away the marks, the scent, the whole night—what little of it she could. If not for the messy hair and faint bite on her shoulder, she wouldn’t have stayed that long.

The late spring air was warm enough as she flagged down a taxi.

By the time she got home, she stripped off her clothes and dumped them straight in the trash. The bite still pulsed, but at least… at least the man had used a condom. Small relief in a night of regret.

*****

A loud knock startled her the next morning.

When she opened the door, her father, Denver Stewart, stood there, frowning at her disheveled state.

“You’re not ready yet? The Blake family will be here any minute,” he snapped.

Hailey stared at him. The same man who once forced her mother to kneel on the cold floor. Since that day, she had stopped caring what he thought.

“It’s too late for that,” she said lightly, a bitter smile on her lips.

Moments later, servants from the Blake family arrived. The butler greeted her father politely, then turned to her with a stiff smile.

“Young madam,” he called her.

Hailey almost laughed. Young madam? Her? She’d worked for the Blakes since she was seventeen—sewing clothes, blending into the walls. She wasn’t used to being noticed, let alone called that.

“I’m not a young lady yet,” she muttered under her breath.

“You are now,” the butler replied smoothly. “The matriarch sent the marriage certificate this morning. You can see it when you arrive.”

Hailey's heart dropped. They’d sent the certificate, without her even being there. Her so-called husband… a stranger. A sick man she’d never met.

But there was no point arguing. She couldn’t undo this.

“Let’s go,” she said quietly.

The Blake family’s old estate loomed large. High walls. Red lanterns. Old pavilions. The place reeked of power, money… and control.

She followed the butler for what felt like forever, finally stopping in front of a room. Inside, elderly women were chanting scriptures. The butler hesitated, waiting.

Hailey stood still, pulse racing.

Finally, one of the old women opened her eyes—sharp, cold eyes that pinned Hailey to the floor.

“You’ve married into the Blake family,” the woman said, voice like iron. “You’ll follow our rules. Stay here. Don’t go to the hospital. Your husband should meet the family when he’s… healthy.”

The words sank in like ice.

Healthy? The husband she hadn’t even seen yet. The husband they’d married her off to… how sick was he, exactly?