Chapter 1

Late at night, my husband Ethan once again snuck into the bedroom of his deceased brother's wife.

Shameful moans spilled through the crack in the door.

My heart twisted as if a knife was being driven through it.

I once thought I'd married into happiness. Three years ago, I was kidnapped and nearly violated by a dozen men. It was Ethan who risked his life to save me.

In that moment, I was moved to tears, and I chose to marry him.

It wasn't until two days ago that I learned the truth.

The kidnapping was orchestrated by him. The knife wound he received while saving me was all calculated.

Marrying me, doting on me, getting me pregnant. It was all to protect his beloved Lydia.

It was all because his forbidden love with Lydia wasn't supported by the family.

Our three years of love was nothing but a lie.

If that's how it is, don't blame me for what comes next.

Sophia's POV

I am San Diego's most well-behaved socialite, a recognized model lady in high society circles.

I was so obedient growing up that I'd never even held a man's hand.

But my family insisted I marry the most infamous bad boy, Ethan.

Rumors said he could go through three different women in a week, racing cars and yachts every night, living a life of complete debauchery.

This man was definitely not husband material.

So I made the only rebellious decision of my twenty-three-year life.

The night before our engagement, I ran away.

But fate played a cruel joke on me.

I fled the arranged marriage, only to be kidnapped halfway by my family's enemies.

Just as my clothes were being torn off and I was about to be violated by a dozen men, the warehouse door was smashed open from outside. Ethan drove a black sports car straight in.

He got out and fought over a dozen burly men.

Eventually he drove them all away, but he was also severely injured. A blade pierced his left chest.

He collapsed in a pool of blood, struggling to crawl to my side and untie the ropes binding me.

I tore off the hem of my shirt and pressed it trembling against the wound on his chest.

"Why did you come to save me?"

"Because you're my fiancée."

He coughed up blood, his devastatingly handsome face pale from blood loss.

"Even though... you didn't seem too willing."

My tears surged out, falling one by one.

"I'm sorry. If I hadn't tried to run away from the marriage, you wouldn't have been dragged into this and injured..."

Ethan reached out and wiped away my tears with his thumb.

"Don't cry."

He said,

"It was my fault before, too many scandals, too bad a reputation... and you're so good, so pure. No wonder you wanted to run."

"But don't be afraid... from now on, they won't force you anymore, won't pressure you into this marriage... you're free now, you can go anywhere, marry whoever you want..."

In that moment, my heart was like a lake struck by a massive stone, rippling with countless waves.

My heart was moved.

"I won't run anymore."

I held him tightly, tears rolling uncontrollably.

"Ethan, I won't run anymore. As long as you're okay, I'm willing to marry you!"

Fortunately, the ambulance arrived in time. The doctor said he was lucky: the blade missed his heart by two centimeters. He was saved.

After he recovered and was discharged, I followed my heart and married him.

After marriage, Ethan reined in his wild ways. No more women around him. He spoiled me endlessly.

He was so good to me.

So good that if I scraped my skin even a little, he'd hold it tenderly and blow on it for ages.

So good that to avoid making me angry, he replaced all his secretaries and drivers with men.

So good that he'd always come home by ten o'clock at night, earning teasing from his friends about being "henpecked."

And Ethan would always respond happily, with pride and affection,

"My Sophia is a treasure that countless men would beg for and never get. That she's willing to marry me is my blessing."

Every time I heard him say this to others, I felt that marrying him was the most correct decision I'd ever made.

Until this prenatal checkup, seven weeks into my pregnancy.

Ethan had an important client he couldn't reschedule. I went to the checkup alone, and seeing it was still early, I stopped by his company wanting to wait for him to get off work so we could go home together.

Learning he was meeting a client in the conference room, I didn't have the secretary notify him. I went into his office and found a magazine to read in the private rest room.

Ever since getting pregnant, I'd become especially drowsy. Without realizing it, I fell asleep on the single bed in the rest room.

I woke to the sound of loud conversation from the office.

"Tsk, aren't you the gold standard for good husbands in our circle now? Your wife had such an important prenatal checkup today, yet you dared make up an excuse to hang out with us here? Aren't you afraid she'll make you sleep in the study when she finds out?"

A burst of knowing laughter followed.

It was Ethan and his group of friends chatting. I smiled slightly.

Knowing this group made boundless jokes in private, I didn't mind.

I got up, about to open the rest room door and go out, when I heard Ethan laugh shortly, his voice carrying a cold mockery I'd never heard before.

"A good husband?"

Ethan scoffed.

"Marrying Sophia, getting her pregnant with this child. None of it was ever my choice. I was forced into all of it."

My hand froze on the doorknob, my fingertips trembling imperceptibly.

What did he mean by that?

What did he mean, he was forced?

Another friend said incredulously,

"What are you talking about? Who in San Diego could force you?"

"Who else?"

One friend who knew the inside story said,

"His grandfather! Have you all forgotten that punishment three years ago that left him bedridden for half a month?"

The others exchanged glances, their expressions changing.

"All these years, I acted like a jerk: racing cars, changing girlfriends, constant scandals. I thought if I did that, Grandfather wouldn't think I still had feelings for Lydia."

Ethan laughed at himself bitterly, then his tone grew heavy.

"But three years ago, he still caught me and Lydia together."

Lydia... Lydia Hayes?

How could it be her?

My breath caught. I could barely stand.

Lydia Hayes, his deceased brother's wife.

He was actually with his own brother's wife?

A massive sense of absurdity crashed over me. I suddenly felt my stomach churning with nausea.

"When grandfather saw me with Lydia, he thought we were disgraceful. He said she was disgusting, that I'd betrayed my brother. But Lydia and I were together first. It was my brother who tore us apart."

In the office, Ethan's words continued.

"But Grandfather wouldn't listen to explanations. He was furious and severely punished Lydia. I got beaten too, but that wasn't the worst of it."

He paused, then his tone turned ice cold.

"The problem was, Grandfather used Lydia to threaten me. He said if I didn't marry Sophia, Lydia's days in the Quinn family would only get worse."

"So you married Sophia for Lydia's sake?"

Someone said with a sigh.

"We all thought you'd long since moved on from her and fallen for Sophia. Otherwise, why would you have stepped up three years ago to save her, nearly dying from your injuries?"

The friend who knew the inside story laughed knowingly.

"You don't know the whole story. The kidnapping Sophia went through three years ago, he orchestrated the entire thing."

"No way! That kidnapping was your setup?"

Ethan was silent for a moment, his voice low.

"Yes."

Hearing that affirmative word, my fingers dug sharply into my palm, nails piercing flesh, but I didn't care.