Chapter 1

When I was three months pregnant, a video of Derek's affair went viral.

My parents were livid, and worse, consumed with guilt. After all, they were the ones who had pushed me into this marriage.

"What are you going to do?" Mom asked, her face streaked with tears. "Will you... divorce him?"

"No."

I clutched the ultrasound report until my knuckles turned white.

My father's business investments had collapsed this year, leaving us 30 million dollars in debt.

So he cheated. So what?

Why on earth would I divorce him?

I was counting on that jerk to help pay off our debts!

After that, I acted like nothing had happened. I went back to the house Derek and I shared.

Even when Derek came home that night, I didn't breathe a word about the video.

I just handed him my pregnancy report, my face a mask of calm..

Derek studied my expression, his own devoid of any guilt or emotion.

My arm had begun to ache from holding out the folder for so long before he finally took it.

Then, as casually as if discussing the weather, he said, "Don't worry. That girl was a little disobedient. I've already disciplined her."

A tremor ran through my hand.

He hadn't said he'd broken things off or cut ties. He'd said “disciplined," with a mix of possessive indulgence and chilling indifference that turned my stomach.

Disciplined her? How?

Like in the video? With Derek, all beastial hunger, dragging her back, pinning her down as she giggled and writhed beneath him?

"Getting brave, are we? Saying no to me now?"

"You want to be disciplined, is that it?"

Then, He flipped her over, his hand connecting with her skin in a sting that was part punishment, part perverse caress.

A dull ache flared in my chest. Gagging, I shut down the memory hard.

"I'm tired," I said, my voice miraculously steady. "I'm going to my room. See Maria if you're hungry."

I didn't wait for a reply. I scrambled for the stairs, my sole focus on reaching the second floor.

Derek didn't stop me. He just let out a grunt from the couch.

It wasn't until my foot hit the first step that his voice cut through the silence again.

"Willow, thank you."

My hand instantly clenched.

Since I'd known Derek, he'd thanked me countless times.

When we got married, he said, "Thank you for agreeing to be my wife."

When I got pregnant, he said, "Thank you for carrying our precious baby."

But I never imagined his "thank you" would, one day, be used for this.

A suffocating pain seized my chest. I bit down hard on my lower lip, forcing out a calm, "You're welcome."