Chapter 1

Natalie Bennett and Ethan Fletcher’s marriage was the hottest topic in South City’s high society.

One was the heiress of the Bennett family—reckless, rebellious, and possessed of a beauty so lethal it felt like a trap.

The other was the stoic patriarch—reserved, clinical, and holding the reins of the Fletcher family fortune.

Two extremes, bound together for three years.

In their first year of marriage, the Fletcher family presented Natalie with a manual of the Fletcher Mandates. Three thousand rules to memorize and obey.

Natalie flipped through a couple of pages. Right before the family elders, tore it into pieces and let them scatter across the floor.

“What century is this? You’re still doing this?” Her eyes were full of raw defiance.

The consequence? She was banished to the family chapel—a cold, hollow fortress—and locked away in silence for three days.

By the second year, the chains tightened. No more clubs, no more parties.

Natalie responded by grabbing her Ferrari and smashed right through the iron gates of the family estate—the very gates mean to symbolize ‘order’. The roar of the engine echoed through the whole manor.

“You want to stop me from going out? Only if I’m dead!”

Back then, she was locked in solitary confinement for half a month,completely cut off from the outside world.

Third year—time for children.

Margaret Fletcher, the mother of Ethan Fletcher, delivered an ultimatum. Natalie was dragged off to the hospital for a round of fertility testing before IVF.

Cold instruments. Doctors talking in a flat, businesslike tone. It all made her sick.

When a nurse approached with a needle, Natalie snapped. She flipped the tray, knocked aside the bodyguards, and sprinted straight out. She got in her car and drove straight to the Fletcher Group headquarters.

Enough was enough!

She’d hidden her claws for three years, trying to play the role of Mrs. Fletcher. What did she get in return? Even tighter chains.

She wanted Ethan Fletcher to know—she couldn’t take these suffocating rules for even one more day!

Natalie Bennett was born to be free—not to wither and die in the Fletcher family’s gilded cage.

She rushed into the CEO’s private elevator. The secretary tried to stop her, but Natalie silenced her with a single glare.

At the top floor, the office door was slightly open. Inside, the sound of easy, casual laughter drifted out. Natalie’s hand was on the handle when she heard her own name.

“Ethan, is your wife raising hell again?” one of his childhood friends teased. “Honestly, I don’t think there’s a woman in South City more beautiful than Natalie—she’s got the face, she’s got the body, she’s incredible! Only trouble is, she’s too rebellious. Like a mustang nobody can tame.”

“But seriously, Ethan, if she wasn’t your type, why go through all that trouble—staging that whole rescue at the equestrian club, making her fall so hard she’d chase you right into marriage?”

Outside the door, Natalie felt as if lightning had struck her—every drop of blood in her body turned to ice.

That so-called heroic rescue…was planned?

Three years ago, her horse went wild at the equestrian club, heading straight for the fence. Ethan appeared like a god and caught her in his arms. Always untouched, always unbothered. That day, she gave her heart to him.

She’d checked up on him afterwards, learned that they were opposites.

She was blazing sunshine; he was cold discipline. She lived boldly; he held back. She loved freedom; he loved rules.

She knew they were worlds apart. But what Natalie wanted, she went after—so she got close to him, tried everything, and finally made him say yes.

She always believed it was her effort—her persistence, her destiny.

But now? It was all just a trap he’d set from the very beginning?

Why? Why would he do that to her?

Just then, another man’s voice spoke, half sighing, laying everything bare.

“Why else? For Vivian, obviously.”

Vivian.

Ethan’s sister-in-law, married to his troublemaker brother, Lucas.

“Vivian’s the one Ethan really cares about. But she comes from a family without status. You know what the Fletcher family is like: rules above everything. Margaret never made things easy for her. Ethan couldn’t stand to see her suffer, so he married someone wild, someone who could stir up trouble and draw all the attention away. That way, Vivian could have a decent life here.”

“And who better than Natalie? She’s beautiful with a solid family background. The most important is that she’s wild enough to set the world on fire.”

“But honestly, Ethan must be madly in love with Vivian. If I had a wife as stunning as Natalie, I’d want to have babies with her! Ethan, though? He wanted all the focus on Natalie, so he secretly got a vasectomy. He cut off any chance Natalie could have kids! Talk about sacrifice…”

Natalie stood outside the door, a cold wave racing up from her toes to the crown of her head, leaving her frozen.

A vasectomy?

He’d gone that far—for Vivian? Married Natalie just to make her the lightning rod for the family’s rage, all so Vivian wouldn’t have to suffer?

It was utterly absurd, almost laughable.

Her heart twisted in her chest, the pain so sharp she could barely breathe.

She bit down on her lower lip, so hard she tasted blood, but she didn’t even notice. All she wanted was to hear Ethan’s answer. Even a single word of denial.

The room was quiet for a long moment, then Ethan’s voice sounded—cool and measured as always.

“Vivian’s too soft. She can’t handle being treated badly. Natalie…she can take it.”

She can take it.

So all these years, every bit of Natalie’s struggle, her defiance, her pain—he didn’t miss it. He just decided she could take it.

That meant it was fine for her to be used.

Fine for her to be the shield that kept another woman safe.

Natalie was shaking. She was about to burst through the door, out of control—when Ethan’s phone rang.

Chapter 2

Ethan picked up the phone. On the other end, his brother Lucas sounded as laid-back as ever.

“Ethan! This is an emergency! Vivian is so clumsy—she broke the Mom’s Madonna statue while getting ready for her birthday party! If mom finds out, she’ll skin Vivian alive. I’m out of the country right now, hanging at the beach with a new model I just met. I can’t come back in time. Could you smooth things over?”

“I know this messes with your whole rule-following thing, but Vivian’s still your sister-in-law. You can’t just let her get in trouble, right?”

Ethan’s brow furrowed, his voice turning colder. “If you married her, why don’t you cherish her? Take care of your own problems.”

“Ethan, you know what I’m like. I married her because, sure, she’s not rich, but she was new and pure. Now I’m bored. She’s nothing like Natalie—she’s got that fierce beauty, wild spirit, and fire! Vivian’s… dull and tiresome. She gets on my nerves. Lately, all she does is call and cry. She’s ruining my whole vacation mood…”

When Ethan heard “she calls and cries,” his eyes instantly darkened.

He was quiet for a few seconds before replying in a flat, unreadable tone, “Got it. I’ll take care of it.”

He hung up and strode toward the office door.

Caught up with Vivian’s mess, he didn’t even notice Natalie standing there, her face as white as paper, just outside the half-open door.

Natalie watched him hurry away, listening as he barked instructions to his assistant who hustled behind.

“Find out where Natalie is right now,” he ordered.

The assistant answered right away. “Mr. Fletcher, just got word—Mrs. Fletcher… she didn’t want to go through with the IVF, so she ran out of the hospital.”

Ethan didn’t stop walking. His tone was cool, emotionless. “Send people to smash up the hospital. Now.”

The assistant faltered for a second, unsure. “You mean… blame the whole thing on Mrs. Fletcher and tell Mrs. Margaret? So she’ll take her anger out on Mrs. Fletcher instead?”

Ethan’s profile was ice cold, his words sharp as a blade. “Exactly. Make it big—so mom forgets all about Vivian breaking the statue.”

Boom—

It felt like lightning split Natalie’s mind. She turned to ice, frozen to the bone.

He was looking for her, not to check if she was okay—but to turn her into Vivian’s scapegoat. To make sure Margaret focused all her anger on her instead.

What else did she need to ask? What else did she need to confirm?

The truth was right there. Plain, merciless, leaving her with nothing to hold onto—not even self-deception.

It was as if a giant hand gripped Natalie’s heart, squeezing and tearing until the pain stole her breath, every inhale tinged with blood.

When she finally came to, Ethan was already gone.

She wiped the tears off her cheeks—she hadn’t even noticed when they started to fall.

Natalie Bennett can stand tall—and walk away just as easily. She refused to cry for a man who didn’t love her and only used her.

She pulled out her phone, dialed James Bennett. “Dad, I want a divorce from Ethan Fletcher. Use all your connections and make sure I get those papers as fast as possible.”

On the other end, James was thrown by her sudden decision. Then his anger exploded. “What are you doing now? What’s wrong with Ethan? He’s stable and capable. The Fletchers are a top family! Women would kill to marry into the family! Stop acting so spoiled—you don’t know what’s good for you!”

She took a deep breath, forcing down the lump in her throat. Word by word, she made herself clear: “Just help me get divorced. I promise—I’ll disappear from South City, forever. You’ll never have to see me again. I’ll never get in your way.”

There was a long, heavy silence.

Natalie gripped her phone, her fingers ice cold.

“I’m not asking for your opinion!” Natalie’s voice was sharp as a knife. “Isn’t this what you always wanted? For me to get as far away as possible, so you and that mistress of yours and your darling illegitimate kids can play happy family with no one in your way?”

She knew her father too well.

All these years, there had a constant parade of women and illegitimate kids at his side. As for her—the proper daughter of the Bennett family—she’d become the extra, the obstacle that needed clearing out.

How much of her boldness and pride was real? How much was just armor she built to keep herself from being swallowed up?

Finally, James Bennett’s voice came back—almost relieved. “…Fine. If that’s really what you want, I’ll do it. But you’d better remember what you just said.”

In that moment, Natalie felt like her heart had been stabbed a thousand times—pain rushing through every nerve in her body.

She tried to smile, but all she managed was something uglier than tears. “Don’t worry. Looking at all of you makes me sick too.”

Chapter 3

After hanging up, Natalie slid down against the cold wall, utterly drained. She hugged her knees and stayed there for a long time, until she finally took a deep breath and forced herself to stand. She pulled herself together and called a few of her closest friends out.

Shopping spree. Retail therapy. Spa day. Then, straight to the hottest club in South City.

Her friends watched her—still dazzling and beautiful as ever, but somehow different now. One of them couldn’t help but ask worriedly, “Natalie, the Fletcher family has such strict family rules. You haven’t been out like this in forever. If they find out you’re here, what’ll you do?”

Natalie downed her shot in one gulp. The burn scorched her throat, and it seared her heart—a heart that had already been shattered a thousand times over.

She gazed out at the crowd on the dance floor and, as if it were nothing, dropped a bomb: “They won’t find out. I’m divorcing Ethan.”

“What?!” Her friend almost knocked over her drink. “But… didn’t you always love him most? You went through so much just to win him over. How—how could you…”

“Not anymore,” Natalie cut her off. “I won’t ever love him again.”

The moment she finished, the club’s pounding music cut off with a jolt. Every light snapped on, blindingly bright.

Dozens of bodyguards in black suits poured in, moving with silent, practiced coordination as they cleared the place out.

“All unrelated guests, please leave immediately.”

Amid complaints and confusion, guests were escorted out one by one. Even Natalie’s friends were politely but firmly shown to the door by the security team.

In an instant, the bar was deserted—eerily silent.

The Fletcher family’s butler walked straight over to Natalie. He gave a polite little bow, but his eyes were cold and his tone left no room for argument. “Mrs. Fletcher, Mrs. Margaret requests your presence.”

Natalie lounged on the couch, swirling the drink in her glass, not even bothering to look up. “No. Tell her I’m about to have nothing to do with Ethan Fletcher. The Fletcher family’s rules don’t concern me anymore.”

Without a word, the butler gestured. A bodyguard moved in soundlessly and, with a single precise strike to the back of Natalie’s neck, knocked her out cold.

Her world went black, and she lost all consciousness.

When she came to, she found her hands bound behind her. She was forced to her knees on the hard floor in the main hall of the Fletcher family—a grand, oppressive place that sucked the air from her lungs.

Margaret Fletcher sat at the head of the hall in a high-backed authority chair, regal and commanding in a dark purple gown, her hair perfectly done, her gaze sharp as a hawk’s.

“Natalie Bennett, just how wild are you planning to get?!” Margaret snapped.

“All these years, not the slightest news from your womb. We told you to do IVF, but you refused. Not only that, you smashed up the hospital? And now you’re running off to clubs like this! You’re the daughter of a top family—this is the best you can do? Even Vivian, who came from a middle-class background, has more class than you!”

Natalie stayed on her knees, listening as Margaret, compared her to Vivian. She felt a stabbing pain inside.

So this was Ethan’s plan? Turn her—his legal wife—into nothing but a backdrop to show off Vivian’s gentleness and virtue?

What a joke.

She was Natalie Bennett, South City’s most dazzling and uninhibited rose. So many men would do anything to be with her—and yet, in Ethan’s eyes, she still wasn’t enough. Instead, she had to be put through all this, all for that woman?

Swallowing back the lump in her throat, Natalie forced herself to look up. Her face was utterly blank as she asked, “Where’s Ethan? I want to see him.”

Margaret gave a harsh snort. “Ethan is busy with work. He doesn’t have time for you! You’re only acting out because he’s too soft on you! He’s the best heir our family has. Instead of helping him, you cause trouble, distracting him from his work. When have you ever done anything for him?”

For him? Natalie almost laughed.

She’d spent years worrying about him, afraid to make him choose between her and his family. She’d done her best to fit their mold, tried to become the perfect Mrs. Fletcher—even when it meant losing herself completely.

And where had that gotten her? Nothing but the punchline to a cruel joke.

Now that she didn’t love him anymore, who could control her?

“I want to see Ethan!” she repeated, struggling to stand up—only to be pinned back down by the guards behind her.

“You’re out of control!” Margaret thundered. “Take her to the family chapel and make her kneel! She stays there until she admits her mistake!”

“I won’t kneel!” Natalie fought back, hands and feet tied, ramming into anyone who tried to come close—throwing, kicking, sending anything she could crashing to the floor. Porcelain smashed, furniture toppled. The chaos only grew.

“Disgraceful! Absolutely disgraceful!” Margaret shook with rage as the mess piled up. When her favorite antique vase went crashing down and shattered, she nearly exploded.

“So you refuse to cooperate? Fine! Drag her out, enforce the family discipline! She can be punished until she’s willing to do IVF!”

A few hulking men dragged Natalie to a side hall for her punishment.

The heavy stick cracked down on her back, her legs, again and again. The burning pain instantly spread through her, cold sweat soaking her clothes.

Still, she clenched her teeth and refused to make a sound—her eyes stubborn and fierce, like a wild animal that wouldn’t be tamed.

She held out as long as she could. When the pain finally went beyond what any human could take, her world went black and she passed out.

When Natalie came to, she was face-down on a hospital bed, the sharp smell of antiseptic in the air.

Her wounds had been cleaned and treated, but every movement sent a dull, aching throb through her body.

Through the cracked door, she could just make out Ethan Fletcher and Vivian Grant’s voices murmuring outside.

“Ethan, thank you so much for helping me,” Vivian’s voice was shaky, full of relief and gratitude. “But… for your mother not to be mad at me for breaking the statue, you let Natalie take the punishment instead… You know what she’s like. When she wakes up, won’t she blame me?”

Ethan’s voice remained as calm and cool as ever. “Don’t worry. With me here, she won’t do anything to you.”

He paused, then went on, “Natalie’s temperament is wild, but she isn’t unreasonable. These past years, it’s Lucas who was in the wrong—he took things too far and let you suffer. As his brother, I failed to keep him in line. I owe it to you to look after you now.”

Vivian’s eyes filled with tears, and she finally broke down in soft sobs.

For the first time, a trace of genuine sympathy flickered in Ethan’s usually steady, cold gaze.

He pulled out a perfectly folded gray handkerchief and handed it to her.

“Don’t cry.” His voice lowered, carrying a warmth Natalie had never heard from him before. “If you have any trouble at the Fletchers from now on, just come to me. I’ll protect you.”

Chapter 4

Inside the hospital room, Natalie watched through the narrow crack of the door, witnessing a scene outside that felt like a blade twisting straight into her heart—over and over again.

Every image was like a red-hot dagger, stabbing deep into her heart and twisting again and again.

She couldn't take it anymore. She suddenly grabbed a glass from her bedside table and, with all her strength, hurled it viciously at the doorway.

The glass shattered against the door frame with a huge crash.

Outside, both Ethan and Vivian snapped their heads toward the room.

Ethan pushed open the door and walked in. His face showed no emotion at all, as if that gentle man from moments before had only been her illusion.

"Woke up? How are you feeling?" His tone was as calm as ever.

Vivian came in behind him, holding a silver thermos. Her face was streaked with dried tears, her eyes timid and seeking approval as she looked at Natalie. "Natalie, you're awake—that's good… I—I heard you were hurt, so I asked the kitchen to prepare a nourishing pigeon consommé… I wanted you to get your strength back…"

Natalie didn't want to see her at all. All she wanted was for Vivian to leave.

But as her gaze slid over the thermos, her heart clenched tight.

"That …bird. Where did it come from?" Her voice was thin, vibrating with a sudden, sharp anxiety.

Vivian blinked, her expression one of innocent confusion."When I heard you were hurt, I wanted to cook something to help you recover.The market was closed, and I couldn't find any fresh poultry. But then I saw that beautiful white dove in the garden coop... I had the servants catch it. I thought a high-quality squab would be the best tonic for you..."

The garden pigeon...

Natalie had raised that fantail pigeon for ten years—it was the last birthday gift her mother had given her before she died. That pet bird had accompanied her through countless lonely days and nights, her mother’s final gift.

In an instant, Natalie’s rage shot up, consuming every last shred of her reason.

"Vivian Grant!" Natalie forced herself upright, ignoring the agony in her wounded back. Her eyes went ice cold. "Did you know that was my Snowball?"

Vivian shrank back, tears instantly filling her eyes. Her lips trembled as she nearly burst into sobs. "I… I didn't know, Natalie. I swear, I never meant to hurt you… I just wanted to do something nice…"

"Enough," Ethan stepped forward, shielding Vivian behind him. He frowned at Natalie, his tone heavy with disapproval. "Natalie, it's just a bird. Vivian meant well, and you don't have to accept her kindness, but that's no reason to lose your temper like this."

Just a bird?!

Natalie stared at how easily Ethan protected Vivian, listened to his dismissive words. Her heart shattered. She could hardly breathe from the pain.

He could only see Vivian's kindness and tears, not Natalie's heartbreak or her grief over losing something that truly mattered.

"Ethan Fletcher!" Her voice was raw and cracked, despair leaking through her anger. "That wasn’t just a bird! My mother left it for me. It stayed with me for ten years. In my heart, it’s more important than either of you!"

Pain and rage crashed together inside her, sweeping away all reason. Without thinking, she grabbed the steaming bowl of soup from the table and hurled it at Ethan.

"Ah—!"

Vivian, standing behind Ethan, gasped and—without thinking—stepped forward to block him.

The scalding soup splashed down all over Vivian.

"Vivian!" Ethan’s face went cold with shock. He caught her as she cried out in pain, his eyes now frigid with anger. "Natalie! Are you insane?!"

The room descended into chaos.

Ethan quickly called for his private doctor.

After the doctor examined her, his expression turned grave as he spoke to Ethan. "Mr. Fletcher, Ms. Grant has a large area of burns, and they're deep… There may be permanent scars in the future."

"Scars?" Vivian’s sobs turned to real terror. Her whole body shook as she clung to Ethan, voice desperate and broken. "No… I don't want scars… Ethan, what do I do…?"

The doctor hesitated. "If you want to avoid scarring, there’s only one solution—skin grafting. But it's very difficult to find a suitable, high-quality donor in such a short time…"

Vivian's sobs died down, her teary gaze drifting—hesitant and scared—toward Natalie’s pale face on the hospital bed.

Ethan noticed, and his eyes fell on Natalie as well.

He was quiet for a moment, those deep eyes unreadable.

"Use Natalie's."

"You were the one who caused the injury; it’s only fitting that you pay the debt. It’s a small patch of skin—hardly a sacrifice. I'll compensate you later."

Make it up to her?!

Natalie felt cold sweep through her, head to toe, leaving her shivering in shock and disbelief.

"Get out! All of you, get out!" She jabbed a finger toward the door, her voice breaking with fury and pain. "You want me to give her a skin graft? Over my dead body!"

Ethan’s brow creased, his voice dropping. "Natalie, stop being so stubborn."

"Stubborn?" She almost laughed out loud, tears spilling from her eyes. "Ethan Fletcher, do my feelings, my pain, the things that matter to me, mean nothing to you? Am I just something you can throw away whenever you want?!"

She tried to climb off the bed. "You're not leaving? Fine, I'll go!"

But the moment she moved, Ethan grabbed her wrist and pinned her down.

"Enough." His gaze was icy, completely in control. "Doctor, bring the sedative."

"Ethan Fletcher! Don't you dare!"

Natalie fought him, her screams echoing through the room, but she couldn't match his strength. The bright, lively fire in her eyes was gone, replaced by nothing but shattered hope and bitter hatred.

When Ethan met that look in her eyes, something sharp twisted in his heart.

A strange panic flickered inside him, so out of place it left him unsettled.

Almost without thinking, he lifted his other hand and gently covered her eyes, as if that would shield him from the pain and hatred he saw there.

His voice was lower, softer than he realized, as if he wanted to soothe her.

"Just relax… it’ll be over soon."

The icy tip of the needle pierced her skin.

Natalie's last sensation was the world going dark—a chill, endless and overwhelming, swallowing her whole.

Chapter 5

When Natalie woke from the heavy fog, a sharp pain in her arm snapped her wide awake.

She moved her left arm a little. It was wrapped in thick bandages, and even the slightest movement would send a searing, ripping pain through her flesh.

Ethan had actually ordered someone to take skin from her to graft onto Vivian’s burn wounds.

The hospital room door opened quietly, and Ethan’s assistant walked in.

“Mrs. Fletcher, you’re awake. Mr. Fletcher has an urgent project overseas and already flew out of the country. He asked me to bring you these gifts—he hopes you’ll like them. He also said... please focus on recovering, and maybe try to tone down your attitude in the future.”

Tone down her attitude?

He used her own skin to please Vivian, then tossed her these cold gifts as if that made up for it? And he wanted her to restrain herself?

A cold rage boiled up inside her. Natalie suddenly raised her uninjured right arm and, with a fierce sweep, knocked all the gift boxes to the floor!

“Get out!” Her voice was hoarse, but each word was icy. “Take his things and get out!”

The assistant looked at the jewelry scattered across the floor. He seemed to want to say something, but in the end just bowed and left the room in silence.

The next few days, Natalie stayed alone in the hospital. She changed her own dressings and ate her meals by herself.

The wounds on her back and arm healed painfully slowly. Each time she changed her own bandages, it felt like she was being tortured all over again, but she just gritted her teeth and endured it all without a word.

On the day she was discharged, the sky was gloomy.

She’d just finished her paperwork and was walking out of the hospital when she ran into Vivian, who was also being discharged.

Vivian wore a white dress. When she saw Natalie, she gave a gentle-looking smile that was actually full of provocation.

“Natalie, what a coincidence! You’re leaving today too?” Vivian walked over, acting sweet as if nothing had ever happened. She even tried to take Natalie’s arm, but Natalie dodged her coldly.

Vivian didn’t seem to care. She just kept talking. “It’s my birthday today. My brother’s throwing a big party for me. You should come! The more, the merrier.”

Natalie didn’t even bother to look at her. She kept walking. “Not interested.”

Vivian grabbed her wrist, her nails digging in. Her face was all innocent smiles, but her grip was cruel. “You don’t want to go... Are you afraid you’ll see how much he cares about me, and you can’t stand it?”

Natalie stopped in her tracks. She yanked her hand free, spun around, and stared Vivian down coldly. “So you always knew Ethan liked you?”

Vivian saw Natalie’s expression change and gave a satisfied, triumphant smile. “At first, I thought your brother just felt sorry for me, treating me like a little sister. But one night... I was drunk, and he took me to my room. He kissed me—secretly.”

She paused, savoring the way Natalie’s eyes went wide, and then added slowly, “That was when I knew. I knew I had a place in his heart.”

Kissed her—secretly...

Natalie felt like she’d been struck by lightning. Her blood ran cold, flowing backward.

Ethan—the man who scheduled everything, who insisted on rules, who acted like a robot with no desires—he’d really snuck into his “sister-in-law’s” room and kissed her?

Vivian watched all the color drain from Natalie’s face, saw her disbelief and pain, and felt an icy kind of satisfaction.

“You’re really hurting, aren’t you, Natalie?” Vivian’s voice was soft, but each word cut deep. “Look at you. You come from a great family. You’re beautiful. You’ve got men lining up for you from South City to Paris. But what good is any of that? The one you love most—his heart belongs to me.”

She tilted her chin, showing off for the first time. All her pride and superiority was laid bare. “So for once, I’ve beaten you at something. How can you not come and see me happy for yourself?”

Natalie looked at that smug, small-minded face, feeling both sick and empty inside.

“Vivian, no matter how much Ethan likes you, you’re still his brother’s legal wife. And me—I’m still Mrs. Fletcher, his wife in the eyes of everyone and of the law.”

She took a step closer, her eyes full of unshakable pride. “You’re trying to prove yourself to me? You’re not even close.”

Natalie didn’t spare another look at Vivian’s shocked, angry face. She stepped out to the curb, hailed a taxi, and left without a backward glance.

Back home, she moved like a machine—ate, showered, and then buried herself under the blankets, desperate to fall asleep and escape it all.

But in the middle of the night, one of the maids pounded frantically on her door.

“Mrs. Fletcher! Something’s wrong! There are police outside—lots of them! They say they’re here for you!”

Natalie frowned, pulled on a coat, and headed downstairs.

Sure enough, there were several uniformed police officers waiting in the living room, their faces grave.

“Ms. Bennett?” The lead officer showed his badge. “We’ve received a report. At the birthday party held tonight at the Fletcher estate, Ms. Grant was poisoned and is now in emergency care. Based on our initial investigation, you are a prime suspect. We need you to come with us to the station and assist with our inquiry.”

Poison? The word was absurd.

“I didn’t poison anyone! I didn’t even go to that party!” Her voice was ice-cold, steady.

The maid jumped in too. “It’s true, officers. Mrs. Fletcher was at home all night—she never even went out! This must be a mistake!”

While both sides were at an impasse, the door opened again and Ethan stepped inside, tall and imposing, cold night air clinging to him.

The maid, seeing him as their savior, rushed over. “Mr. Fletcher! You’re finally home! Someone called the police, accusing Mrs. Fletcher of poisoning Ms. Grant—how could that even be possible?”

Ethan walked into the middle of the room, his eyes taking in the police before settling on Natalie’s pale face.

“It was me. I called the police.”