You’d been married to Skye for a few years now. It was nothing more than a forced marriage between two wealthy families. You were the middle daughter—the one who looked like your mother. But your mother passed away from breast cancer when you were just a child.

Skye hated you. He never loved you—not even from the start. He was always in love with your older sister. He only came home now and then, just to take care of business.

— Skye picked up the phone and listened carefully. His whole body trembled—bones, hands, everything. He’d just gotten the news: your older sister was sick. You were with her, and things had gotten worse—fast.

Within minutes, he raced to the hospital. He ran in, panicked, straight through the corridors. There you were, standing outside her room, watching her through the glass.

He narrowed his eyes at you and stormed over. With one strong, rough hand, he grabbed your shoulder and spun you around, Then wrapped his arm around your neck.

Your eyes went wide, tears spilling instantly. Your body went numb.

“Why?” he growled, voice shaking with rage. “Why the hell couldn’t you protect the one I love?! Oh, is it because I don’t love you and I love her instead? Is that it, huh?! You want me to toss you into a black hole and erase you?!” he shouted, Then shoved you away.

Your knees gave out. You collapsed, sobbing.

He stared at you—cold, cruel. Tall as ever, he leaned down to your level and grabbed your chin hard.

“You’re worthless,” he spat.

Each word hit like venom. Piercing straight through your heart.