Chapter 1

To win the woman crowned Miss Harborcrest, Rowan Sinclair, heir to Westhaven's most powerful family, spent 9.9 billion dollars building the most extravagant estate atop Paxton Peak for Ava Hartley.

Yet barely a year into their marriage, Ava fell from the mountain while saving Rowan, leaving no trace behind.

For three years, Rowan traveled between Harborcrest and Westhaven 99 times, searching for her with the desperation.

And at last, fate relented. In a small fishing village along Bayshore, he finally found her.

She stood barefoot on the sand, wearing a sun-bleached cotton dress, so luminous that she looked like a fallen spirit made flesh.

Roman lifted a trembling hand to her cheek, his voice breaking as he whispered, "Ava, I finally found you."

Ava's memory was still shattered, but when she saw the grief and relief brimming in Rowan's eyes, her quiet heart cracked open.

However, the moment she pushed open the door of the villa on Paxton Peak, every illusion shattered.

"Rowan!" A soft, graceful silhouette swept toward him, the custom white dress Ava had once loved flowing around her as she rushed straight into his arms.

The woman lifted her face. The fresh marks on her neck were impossible to ignore. Her gaze landed on Ava, innocent and cruel. "Who is this lady? A new housemaid?"

Ava's heart tightened, though her expression did not move.

She had once been the proudest woman in Harborcrest. Even with her memory lost and her life reduced to rubble, her dignity remained intact.

Rowan's brow twitched almost imperceptibly, yet his arm instinctively moved to shield Lia behind him. His tone was easy and protective. "Lia, don't be rude."

He turned to Ava, his voice calm and flat. "Ava, this is Lia Merritt. I wasn't home much while searching for you. My mom relied on her company."

Then, he added with a dependency he failed to notice himself, "During the three years you were gone, I had several breakdowns and nearly followed you to the grave. If Lia hadn't supported me and talked me through it, I wouldn't have survived.

"She can be a little spoiled, but she isn't a bad person. Now that you're back, just treat her well with me."

Ava looked at the way he stood in front of another woman, protecting her so naturally. And suddenly the broken pieces of her memory surged back like a tidal wave.

She remembered Rowan shielding her countless times just like that.

Facing the relentless flashes of Harborcrest paparazzi, he had wrapped her tightly in his arms and declared, "Ask me anything. Don't frighten my wife."

At the family banquet in Sinclair Manor, when relatives questioned her background, he had walked out with her hand in his. "I married her, not her pedigree."

On an empty street at night, when a reckless motorbike nearly hit her, he had thrown himself in front of her without a second thought, taking the scrape across his own arm while checking again and again that she was fine.

He had once been her fortress, the source of every sense of safety she possessed. But now he stood before someone else, shutting her out completely.

Ava suddenly felt that her three years of brutal survival, her desperate return for a half-remembered man, had been nothing but a bitter joke.

"I'm tired. I'll go upstairs and rest." Her voice was calm, unreadable, as she walked toward the stairs.

Rowan stepped ahead and opened the door to the guest room.

Ava stopped short.

"What happened to my master bedroom?" she asked, her eyes lowered, her voice turning cold.

Chapter 2

Roman paused with his back to her. He did not turn around, and his voice revealed nothing. "Lia has anemia. The doctor said she needs sunlight. The master bedroom faces the morning sun, so she has been using it."

He turned then, meeting Ava's gaze with a tone that carried a faint sense of inevitability. "And you just came back. You need absolute quiet to recover. This room is better for that."

This room is better—four simple, offhand words. However, they jolted loose a memory.

When they had first moved in after their wedding, Ava had complained that the villa was too vast and too cold.

She had wanted to return to Harborcrest, so Rowan had summoned a designer that very night, torn down the adjoining wall, and built her a sun-filled glass conservatory.

He had held her tightly as he whispered against her ear, "My Ava deserves the best in the world. I want you to wake up every morning to sunlight and the flowers you love."

And now, this same man was calmly telling her that Lia needed the sunlight more.

Ava teetered on the edge of her memory when Lia approached with a trembling cup of milk, shattering the moment.

"Ava," she said, offering the cup with wide eyes that held no trace of fear. "Have some warm milk. It will help you relax."

Ava was about to refuse when Lia's wrist snapped downward without warning, and a sharp cry broke out.

The entire cup of scalding milk splashed across the back of Ava's hand, the skin blistering red at once. Lia, meanwhile, stumbled backward and struck her forehead against the sharp corner of the doorframe, blood welling immediately.

Tears streamed down her face as she sobbed, pitiful and aggrieved. "Rowan, I'm sorry. I didn't hold it steady. Please don't blame Ava."

Rowan's expression darkened. He swept Lia into his arms, glared at Ava with a coldness that could pierce to the bone. It was a look of disappointment she had never seen before.

"Ava, it's only been three years. How have you become so different?" he said.

Ava tilted her head, studying them both. Then, she reached for the remaining glass of milk, lifted it, and poured it directly over Lia's hair.

"That first spill wasn't mine. This one is," she said.

Rowan froze. His gaze flicked to the raw redness on Ava's hand, yet he still could not harden his heart.

"I know you're upset, but don't take it out on Lia. Her heart is weak." His voice cooled. "But this is the first and last time. If it happens again, I won't take your side."

With that, he carried the weeping Lia downstairs without another glance at Ava.

Watching Rowan's retreating back, Ava began to laugh softly. The sound echoed down the empty corridor, hollow and bleak.

Once, a tiny cut on her hand had sent Rowan summoning every doctor in the hospital. Now her skin was burned raw, and he left her behind without hesitation, holding another woman in his arms. How fitting.

Rowan, she thought, this was the price for me dragging myself out of hell to save you.

Her phone rang sharply, slicing through her thoughts.

A message flashed on the screen from an unknown number. "I told you Rowan never deserved you. Come back to me, Ava."

Ava deleted the texts without expression and returned to the guest room.

…

The next evening, Rowan hosted the welcome-home banquet for her as planned.

Cloudcrest Pavilion, the most extravagant venue in Westhaven, blazed with light. Guests filled the hall, eager to glimpse the woman the heir had recovered after three lost years.

However, what should have been a stage for two suddenly became a stage for three.

Ava arrived in a black dress, cold and regal. Rowan stood beside her with Lia wrapped tightly around his arm.

"Rowan, this seared foie gras is amazing. Try it?" Lia lifted a silver fork and raised it directly toward Rowan's lips.

Curiosity flickered through the watching crowd.

Rowan's gaze passed, quick as a shadow, across Ava's impassive face. Then, after a brief hesitation, he opened his mouth and accepted the bite.

A tiny, needling sting pierced Ava's chest. Not sharp, not overwhelming, but persistent. She remembered how he used to refuse being fed in public, insisting it was beneath his image.

"Mm." Rowan swallowed, his tone neutral, betraying nothing.

Lia's smile spread like a victory she had expected. She pressed herself closer to him and let out a plaintive sigh. "Rowan, my feet hurt. I've been standing too long."

Chapter 3

The next moment, Ava saw Rowan slip an arm around Lia's waist, taking most of her weight as he murmured a gentle, indulgent scold. "I told you not to wear heels that high."

Ava, who should have been one of the stars of the night, had instead become a backdrop meant only to highlight their intimate display.

She stood beside them, listening to the murmurs drifting through the banquet hall, each one sinking into her chest like a needle.

"So which one is Mrs. Sinclair? I heard she used to be a beauty queen in Harborcrest, the city's final crown jewel. But honestly, she looks pretty ordinary."

"The one in the black dress is Mrs. Sinclair. That one over there is Mr. Sinclair's new favorite."

"Tsk. I thought this was some epic reunion. Turns out the old can't compare to the new. And she disappeared for three years. Who knows how many men she slept with? Mr. Sinclair probably thinks she's dirty now."

The filth rolled toward her like a rising tide, but Rowan was too caught up in Lia's sweetness to notice Ava's growing humiliation.

Ava drew a slow breath, unable to watch them flaunt their affection any longer. She turned, intending to leave the hall.

Just then, a deafening blast erupted from downstairs, and a shockwave tore upward, hurling shards of glass and clouds of smoke across the room.

Ava staggered as panicked guests slammed into her. A jagged shard hit her collarbone, and sharp pain shot through it.

Through the smoke, she instinctively lifted her eyes toward Rowan. For a brief second, their gaze locked, and Rowan instinctively started running toward her.

Ava's heart clenched.

"Rowan, I'm so scared!" But Lia's cry shattered everything.

His body froze. Then, he turned toward Lia instead.

As he pivoted, Ava could almost hear her own heart splinter.

She watched Rowan strip off his jacket to wrap it tightly around Lia, shielding the smaller woman with his own body as debris and sparks rained down from the ceiling.

Heat scorched Ava's skin, blood trickled from her collarbone, but she felt none of it. Her eyes were fixed on the emergency exit, on the sight of Rowan carrying Lia out without a single backward glance.

The crowd shoved and shoved, frantic to escape. Someone hit her injured shoulder hard, but she did not fall.

So, this was despair.

She suddenly remembered the moment she fell from the cliff.

She had used the last of her strength to push Rowan out of harm's way. While she tumbled into the abyss, her only thought had been "at least he wasn't hurt".

How ridiculous.

Warm blood slid down her collarbone and into her dress.

Ava straightened slowly, tore off a piece of her skirt, and pressed it over the wound.

She sprinted through the choking smoke, her movements sharp and precise. Three years of surviving alone had long stripped her of whatever softness she once had. She was no longer the fragile rose that used to bloom behind Rowan's sheltering arms.

When she finally burst out of the burning building, she saw Rowan on the street, cradling an entirely uninjured Lia and whispering gently to her. "Don't be scared, Lia. I'm here."

Ava stared at them, her face as cold as the night air. Bracing herself against the pain, she pulled out her phone and typed a message to the unknown number. "Help me divorce Rowan."

A second later, her strength gave out, and she collapsed.

...

When Ava came to, she was in a hospital bed. Thick layers of bandages wrapped her body, burns covered her skin, and the room was empty.

The half-open door, however, did nothing to block the conversation outside.

"Mr. Sinclair is unbelievably kind to Ms. Merritt. He hasn't even checked his own burns. He's been carrying Ms. Merritt all over the hospitals for examinations, terrified something might be wrong with her."

"Same suffering, different fate. This one here is Mrs. Sinclair. Burned over 30% of her body, nearly died, yet Mr. Sinclair hasn't visited once…"

Each sentence landed like a blade, slicing at Ava's heart.

Chapter 4

Just the night before, Ava had finally remembered every moment she once shared with Rowan. And finally, she let him go completely. What she did not understand was why her heart still hurt so sharply she could barely breathe.

She curled into herself on the hospital bed, but the image of Rowan abandoning her to run toward Lia replayed in her mind again and again. Each replay was another blade carving deeper into her heart.

She let herself cry without holding back. When the tears finally dried, she put Rowan entirely behind her. A man who no longer loved her was not worth clinging to.

When Ava steadied her emotions and turned her head, she saw a set of papers resting quietly at her bedside.

A handwritten note was pinned on top. "Ava, something as simple as getting Rowan to sign this shouldn't require my help."

She understood immediately. He had been here before.

Before she could think further, the door opened. Rowan stepped inside.

"Ava." He looked at her pale face with a complicated expression and handed her a medical form. "Have these tests done this afternoon."

Ava scanned the form. The words "fertility assessment" and "infectious disease screening" jumped out at her, and her stomach dropped.

She tightened her grip on the divorce agreement in her hand and lifted her chin with a sharp, bitter smile. "Rowan, you want me to do these tests? You're questioning me?"

"I trust you. But you heard what people were saying at the banquet. They have all sorts of suspicions about your three years away. This is the only way to prove yourself." His justification sounded righteous, but every word struck Ava like a slap.

So, last night, he had heard the filth people threw at her, every vile insult, yet he chose to let them soil her.

She had fought for her life at the bottom of a cliff because she had saved him, and all she carried back were wounds and sickness. Now, he was judging her for being dirty.

She looked at the face she had once loved beyond reason and remembered how the Harborcrest tabloids had once tried to defame her. Rowan had smashed a reporter's camera and shielded her behind him, declaring, "Nobody knows my wife better than I do."

And now the one leading the charge to doubt her, to tear her down, was him.

Ava stared at him, her voice icy. "I don't need to prove anything to anyone. Not even to you. You're not worthy."

She held out the divorce agreement. "Sign this, and we can walk away cleanly."

Rowan's face darkened. He did not even glance at the papers. His lips curved with a mocking twist. "Ava! Finally losing patience? Dropping the act now? Ready to negotiate? Is this a settlement agreement or a share transfer? Did you scheme this whole thing just for money?

"Money isn't a problem. As long as you behave." His tone shifted, pulling out his biggest card.

He added, "Do you remember Martha? After you disappeared, she cried until she nearly went blind. Her son, Caleb, works for the shipping branch of the Sinclair Corporation. He just got promoted to supervisor.

"If you want him unemployed and the entire family starving in Harborcrest, feel free to refuse the tests."

Ava froze. She had never imagined Rowan would one day turn such threats against her.

"At two this afternoon, I'll send the doctor over." His voice was hard, indifferent to her burns and bandages. "Don't test my patience."

At two, the doctor appeared with instruments in tow.

When the cold metal entered her body, she closed her eyes, fists clenched so tightly her nails pierced her palms. She did not even feel the blood welling beneath her fingers.

This wasn't a medical exam. It was an execution of her dignity and spirit, carried out by the man she had loved most in her life.

When it was finally over, Rowan appeared with a black card in hand.

"The tests are done. Everyone is reassured now." His voice carried a hint of relief. "Take this card. Buy yourself something. Make up for the styles you missed."

Ava swallowed the wave of nausea rising in her throat and extended the divorce agreement again.

"Even if this kindness is fake, sign this if you really want to compensate me."

Rowan looked at her strangely calm face, and for a moment his heart skipped. He quickly reasoned with himself that she probably wanted equity or property.

He took the agreement, ready to read it carefully.

Just then, Lia burst into the room, panicked. Her hair was a mess, and a bright red scratch streaked across her cheek.

She held a wrinkled note, tears streaming. "Someone stopped me in the parking garage. They shoved this at me and said if I don't leave you, they'll ruin my face!"

Rowan snapped the folder shut and rushed to Lia's side. "Don't be scared. I'm here."

The trembling woman in his arms made his thoughts scatter. He had no patience left to examine anything else. If it's only money she wanted, she could have it.

He flipped to the last page and scrawled his signature.

"Take it." He tossed the signed agreement to Ava, irritation sharpening his tone. "The title of Mrs. Sinclair is yours. You didn't need to be so impatient."

Chapter 5

"Didn't I already tell you that was the last time? And you still dared to send someone to threaten Lia," Rowan snapped.

Ava glanced down at Rowan's signature on the divorce agreement, satisfaction flickering across her face. As she looked at Lia's pitiful, theatrically fearful expression, Ava was in such a rare good mood that she even humored Lia's performance.

"Threaten?" Ava stepped off the bed, picked up the fruit knife from the bedside table, and brushed it along Lia's cheek before driving it forcefully into the wall behind her. "Look closely. That is what a threat looks like."

If Lia hadn't helped secure Rowan's signature, that knife would have landed on her instead.

This time, Lia was genuinely terrified. The color drained from her face, her entire body trembling uncontrollably.

Ava turned to put the agreement away when Rowan's cold voice rang out behind her. "You think you can walk away after threatening someone with a knife?"

He closed the distance between them one step at a time, his eyes dark and vicious.

Ava met his stare without fear, a mocking curl at her lips. "What, Mr. Sinclair, feeling protective? That was just a demonstration. If I wanted to truly threaten her, she wouldn't be able to speak right now."

"Sharp tongue on you." Ignoring the wounds covering her body, Rowan dragged her out into the hallway without restraint. "Clearly, I've indulged you too much. You've forgotten your place.

"Get down." He released her, issuing the command from above her with a quiet authority that filled the empty hallway.

Ava straightened her spine and let out a cold laugh. "And why would I?"

"Because you just threatened Lia with a knife." Roman's gaze was sharp. "The Sinclairs have rules. You do wrong, you answer for it."

"I'll give you two options. First, get down and apologize to Lia, and you don't get up until she forgives you. Second," he paused, his tone turning cold. "Refuse, and Martha and Caleb pay for what you did."

Ava's heart twisted as if caught in an invisible fist. The same tactic. Again.

Rowan hesitated for a fleeting second as he watched her defiant expression, but Lia's soft crying cut through it.

"Fine. I'll do it." Ava's voice was unnervingly calm.

Slowly, she sank to the cold marble floor, lowering herself with deliberate control, her back still held perfectly straight.

"Ms. Merritt," Ava said, enunciating each word with clarity, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have used a knife to frighten someone like you, a shameless mistress who breaks up a marriage and becomes the other woman.

"And truthfully," Ava continued, her voice steady, audible to every nurse lurking around the corner, "I should have driven the knife straight through your heart."

"Ava Hartley!" Rowan roared.

Ava no longer looked at him. She said nothing more, simply knelt, her face devoid of emotion.

Seeing the unyielding way she held herself—prouder kneeling than most were standing—something inside Rowan snapped. This wasn't remorse. It was defiance.

He spun around and stormed off, throwing over his shoulder, "When you finally come to your senses and apologize sincerely to Lia, then you may get up."

Ava stayed kneeling on the icy floor, nurses whispering in the distance, each word a needle pricking her skin.

"Isn't that Mrs. Sinclair? Why is she kneeling here?"

"I heard she threatened Ms. Merritt to make her leave Mr. Sinclair and got punished for it."

"People used to call her the last gem of Harborcrest and said that she was bold and passionate. Now look at her, reduced to his, fighting tooth and nail to keep her marriage."

Their pitying eyes and quiet sighs blurred into one. Ava's mind drifted to a banquet three years ago, when a spoiled socialite had deliberately spilled red wine on her gown.

Rowan hadn't hesitated. He had lifted the entire bottle and poured it over the woman's head.

"My wife is not someone you get to bully. Now get out of Harborcrest," he said coldly before the entire hall.

The sight of his back shielding her that night had once convinced her she would always have a home behind him.

And now that same man was watching her kneel on a hospital floor, letting strangers gawk at her humiliation with impunity.

Her vision swam. Her body wavered.

Just before consciousness slipped away, she saw Rowan emerging from the room with his arm carefully around Lia, not sparing Ava a single glance.

Her strength gave out, and she collapsed soundlessly.

...

When Ava woke again, pain pulsed through every inch of her body. She opened her eyes to Rowan's furious face.

"Ava!" He slammed a medical report onto her. "Whose bastard are you carrying?"