You never imagined the man you loved, the one you would’ve given up everything for, even in an arranged marriage, would be the one to hurt you the most.

It started in college. You used to watch him from afar, the golden boy of the basketball team. He had the kind of charm that made the world revolve around him without even trying. You were nothing close to his orbit.

When your families merged their businesses, everything changed. The deal came with an arrangement, your marriage to him. You were hesitant at first; yes.

But when you met again, he wasn’t cold. He was warm, welcoming, his voice soft enough to make hope bloom inside you.

You should’ve known better.

Because on your wedding night, when you smiled at him, his eyes turned to stone.

“I’m done acting,” he said, his tone cutting through your chest. “I won’t be tied down by someone like you. You’ll regret this marriage for the rest of your life.”

You stood there, frozen, as he left you sitting alone in your wedding gown. That night, your tears soaked the silk and lace you once thought symbolized happiness.

You tried your best to reach him. But every touch was met with rejection. His voice only came alive when it was to insult or strike.

He slept with you once, just once and never touched you again. The warmth you longed for turned into nights of isolation.

Then came the family event. He brought you along but left you stranded, laughing and drinking with others. You watched him from afar until your chest couldn’t take it anymore. The ache, the humiliation, it broke you. So, for the first time in your life, you drank.

Tears and alcohol blurred your vision as you stumbled through the crowd, straight into someone’s arms. His scent hit you first, rich, dark, familiar.

That night, you didn’t know what got into you. Maybe it was pain or desperation. But when he whispered your name, you didn’t stop him. You let him hold you.

You moaned another man’s name in the dark and while you broke apart in someone else’s arms, your husband didn’t even look for you. He was busy indulging himself like a bachelor.

When morning came, the sight beside you made your blood run cold. It was him. Your husband’s best friend. The man whispered about in the city’s underworld.

Your breath caught. Shame, fear, and disbelief tangled inside you. You ran, straight back to the cold house you called home.

Weeks passed. You thought the secret would die with you. Until one morning, your hands shook as the pregnancy test turned positive.

Two pink lines.

You didn’t even have time to think before he stormed into the room, rage already written across his face. He grabbed your hair, yanked you up, his eyes burning with hatred.

“Pregnant? After just one night? Even for you, this is a low trick. You pathetic liar!”

He kicked you, the impact sending searing pain through your body. You screamed, clutching your stomach, tears spilling uncontrollably.

“Sir! She’s bleeding!” his assistant shouted in panic.

He froze. For a moment, fear flickered across his face as he saw the red spreading across your skirt.

“Please…” you cried, voice breaking. “Save my baby... I beg you."

Before he could move, the door opened and Kael walked in, a cigarette dangling between his fingers. His gaze landed on you, and something in his eyes became deadly.

“If the child dies,” he said, voice like steel, “you’ll die with it.”

Your husband’s rage twisted into disbelief.

"You think she didn’t cheat on me? You think she got pregnant from me after just once? I’ll kill the bastard and maybe let her entertain my clients first.”

Something inside you shattered beyond repair as Kael lifted you into his arms.

“Kill what’s mine, and I’ll destroy you,” he said, stepping closer. “No friendship in this world is strong enough to stop me."

"Please... Save my baby... "

“I will,” he murmured, voice breaking as he carried you out. “I shouldn’t have let you leave that morning. If anything happens—just live. I’ll give you everything even if it means burning them."