Chapter 3

An accident.

What a convenient word.

I saved the evidence and exposed her at her college.

Ava became the mistress everyone despised.

But Ethan, who cared so much about his pride, held a press conference and took all the blame.

He even produced documents claiming I was mentally ill.

Public opinion turned against me.

People threw paint at me and vandalized my exhibitions.

I cried and asked him why.

His expression was cold.

“She’s a sensitive girl. How is she supposed to live with herself when you spread rumors like this?”

I slapped him hard and demanded,

“What did you promise my dad?”

“How am I supposed to live after this?”

He tossed me a bank card.

Then he asked,

“She’s the only other woman I have, and I’m still guaranteeing you a comfortable life. Isn’t that enough?”

When I didn’t answer, he scattered a handful of cash in front of me.

He gave a quiet, contemptuous laugh.

“Don’t be so greedy.”

“Your dad wouldn’t want to see you like this. Acting like a lunatic.”

My heart shattered.

Before I could speak, Ava burst in, looking terrified.

Her clothes were torn, her makeup smeared.

She trembled all over, crying pitifully.

“Claire, if you hate me, I’ll leave. But why would you have someone assault me?”

“And post it online…”

I checked my phone.

A video of Ava being dragged into an alley and sexually assaulted was trending.

The IP address that uploaded it matched mine.

Before I could explain,

Ethan dumped me in a crime-ridden slum.

“I spoiled you for too long. You thought you could get away with anything.”

“Maybe you’ll understand once you’ve suffered the way she did.”

He left me there for three full days.

By the end, I barely looked human.

The day he brought me back, I asked for a divorce.

He frowned.

“I only made you live with poor people for three days. Is that really necessary?”

Necessary?

Every time I closed my eyes, greasy hands and a foul stench threatened to swallow me whole.

I didn’t want to explain. I only wanted a divorce.

Then something happened to Ava during dance practice.

Someone had hidden nails in her dance shoes.

Her legs were injured. She would never dance again.

And once again, every piece of evidence pointed to me.

I hired a private investigator and showed Ethan the footage.

He still refused to believe me.

He left me penniless in the divorce and sent me to the Wifely Virtue Academy.

“When you learn to behave, I’ll bring you home.”

Now, I really had learned.

At the very least, neither he nor Ava could stir anything in my heart anymore.

I smiled calmly.

“You’re right. The old Claire Bennett had no one to rely on but you.”

“But I’m married now. You don’t need to concern yourself, Mr. Hayes.”

He swallowed, struggling to speak.

“I know the punishment was a little harsh. But I couldn’t stand watching you become a bad person.”

“I never sent you to prison, did I?”

“You don’t have to pretend with me. I won’t abandon you.”

Ava nodded, looking at me with pity.

“Exactly, Claire. Making up an imaginary husband is honestly pretty sad.”

“Why don’t I pay your medical bills and take you to see a psychiatrist?”

Before I could answer,

a familiar voice called out.

“Claire.”

Noah Sterling walked toward me, carrying jasmine and a jacket.

He sighed.

“I knew it. No jacket again.”

“Did you sneak out when the housekeeper wasn’t looking?”

He draped the jacket over my shoulders with practiced ease.

When I didn’t push him away, Ethan’s gaze chilled.

“Claire, who is he?”

I lifted my hand, my fingers laced through Noah’s.

I made every word clear.

“My husband.”

Only then did Noah look up.

The moment Ethan saw his face, his expression changed.

“There’s no way Noah Sterling is your husband!”