Chapter 2

On the way home, my driver got into a rear-end collision.

The car flipped, the driver was unconscious instantly, and I was severely injured.

As the ambulance rushed to the scene, I suddenly regained a flicker of consciousness.

With what little awareness I had left, I instinctively fumbled for my phone and called Kamran.

It rang for a long time before someone picked up. I swallowed the metallic taste of blood welling in my throat and spoke with difficulty:

"Kamran, I…"

Kamran's voice held an edge of impatience.

"Didn't I already send a driver to pick you up? I told you I'm busy, Angela. Can't you be more understanding?"

The phone's receiver suddenly filled with noise.

A familiar voice.

The girl's desperate cry came through:

"Kamran, you can do whatever you want to me, but why would you hurt *him*?"

Kamran's voice was calm, but his words sent a chill down my spine.

"Seraphina, I told you. If you dared to accept his proposal, I'd make sure he spent the rest of his life in a wheelchair."

So, the sweet, innocent-looking girl Kamran was so desperately protecting was named Seraphina.

I suddenly remembered why that voice sounded so familiar.

It was the sound I'd made the first time I discovered Kamran was cheating, smashing everything in sight.

Kamran always knew how to drive people insane.

On the other end of the line, Seraphina was crying, begging Kamran to spare her boyfriend.

Before I completely lost consciousness, I heard Seraphina's pleas.

"Please, be gentle…"

Her cries shifted from enraged curses to soft, broken whimpers.

When I woke up, Kamran was sitting on a sofa nearby, fiddling with his phone.

He noticed my gaze.

He hesitated, then reached out as if to check my forehead for a fever.

I turned my head away, my voice hoarse.

"I'm fine."

Kamran scoffed, pulling his hand back abruptly.

"Angela, you just got out, and already you're pulling stunts like a car crash. Haven't you learned your lesson?"

My mind went blank.

"I've told you many times, no one will ever threaten your position. You are my only wife, Angela Thorne."

"What good does it do you, fighting with some young girl fresh out of college, only to end up covered in injuries?"

He thought my car accident was a desperate tactic to win his affection against Seraphina.

I opened my mouth, but found anything I could say would sound weak and useless.

"I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

After all, I knew I had no right to argue now.

Kamran seemed pleased by my surrender.

My brother called to tell me Kamran had pre-paid his next month's debt.

See? If I just disappeared into the background, if I knew my place, Kamran would take care of all our problems.

"If you're so miserable, Angela, then leave him. Divorce him."

"I'll figure out the money, I promise."

My arm ached from holding the phone.

I'd heard it all. Our family's assets had been seized and put up for auction.

Cars, houses—everything vanished overnight, and it still wasn't enough to fill the hole.

My brother, Nealon, had been beaten by debt collectors, moved from our palatial riverside mansion to a dark, damp basement in just three days.

I heard that when Kamran found him, Nealon was curled up on a cramped twin bed, eyes closed, face pale, blood on his lips.

His blanket didn't even cover his legs.

On the floor lay an unopened takeout box.

We were utterly ruined, with no other choice.

Now Kamran was offering cars, a house, and endless funds.

All I had to do was turn a blind eye and let him have his 'beautiful love' with Seraphina.

In our current situation, what right did we have to refuse?

I managed a weak smile.

"I'm not miserable. Just being blind, that's all. I can do it."

After being discharged, I tried to be a dutiful wife.

I stopped asking about Kamran's whereabouts or his spending.

When Kamran needed a ride home after drinking at a business dinner, I gave the driver Seraphina's number.

When Kamran said he wanted my homemade mushroom soup, I expertly dialed Seraphina's number and asked her to deliver it.

When Kamran complained his newly tailored cufflinks didn't have a matching suit, I told Seraphina to contact Kamran's private tailor.

Until three months later, Kamran, uncharacteristically, called me himself.

He said he was coming home for dinner tonight.