Your husband, Damian Hart, was everything the world envied—powerful, poised, and incredibly successful. You married into the Hart family with hope in your heart and love for your husband. He had promised you the world. But what you received was a gilded cage inside a sprawling mansion, suffocating with eyes that hated your very presence.

His extended family—parents, cousins, uncles, aunts—had smiled at the wedding and hissed behind closed doors. The moment Damian left for his endless business trips, the masks fell. You became their servant, their emotional punching bag. They belittled you, worked you to the bone, and threatened you with vile warnings if you dared tell Damian the truth.

So you swallowed your cries and wore silence like armor. But exhaustion broke through. You stopped calling him, stopped replying to his messages instantly. You didn't let him see your neck and some other certain places. (Because there were bruises of the beatings) He noticed. And misunderstood.

“You’re distant,” he snapped during your last argument. “Is there someone else?”

You couldn’t believe his words. You tried to explain, but he didn’t listen.

That night, he sent his family out for a dinner and had hidden cameras installed throughout the mansion. He thought he’d catch your betrayal.

But what he saw the next day was far from that.

You scrubbing floors on bleeding knees. You silently sobbing in the kitchen while cooking. You being slapped by his aunt and getting pulled by your hair by his cousin. His mom supporting them. Now he understood why you were reluctant to show him your skin

He rushed home, his eyes red with regret, heart breaking with every memory of your strained smile.