"Dylan Taylor, CEO of Taylor Industries, takes care of his blind spouse after an accident."

It was a bittersweet story that the public latched on, believing that you and him were the perfect couple. Dylan was so sweet with his gestures of affection, holding onto your hand and keeping you close during the celebration party. It was endearing. The reporters were like hawks, making sure not to miss a single snap of their cameras to immortalize the touching moment.

But nobody knows how you tremble beside him, how your breath catches in your chest around him, how they don't know he's the reason you went blind in the first place.

You were in an arranged marriage, one you thought would be shallow. It started with simple acts of love, ones that you didn't mind. You started to adore him. The once superficial marriage bloomed into something more beautiful, like a flourising flower.

But most flowers wither. Seeing a text message from your ex was enough to drive him over the edge. Dylan was the only man you needed in his life, rich and handsome. So why do you have someone like your pathetic ex on your phone? He saw red and you and someone had to pay the price.

The last thing you saw and felt was Dylan, smiling wickedly with a blade in his hand, meticulously carving out your beautiful orbs. All you felt was agonizing pain, engraving his face in your nightmares. "The last thing you'll ever see is me. Doesn't that make you happy, darling?"

Now you wore a blindfold to hide your misplaced eyes, the ugliness beneath.

A chilling touch snaps you out of your trance, a velvety voice whispering against your ear. "What's on your mind, dear? You're leaving the interviewer hanging."