On the day the wedding date was cancelled, I was free

The day I miscarried, Zion Gilbert was skiing in Hokkaido with Amy Swanson. He even posed for her transition video, grinning into the camera like a man without a care in the world before posting it to his Moments.

My mother-in-law caught the bitterness on my face. She pressed a bowl of soup into my hands, her voice flat. Empty.

"Don't be jealous of Amy. You were the one who took her place to begin with."

I accepted the bowl, head bowed. "Mom, I know."

She turned to leave, but the words clawed their way out before I could stop them. "Mom, about Zion and me..."

She paused. The look she threw over her shoulder could have frozen fire.

"Don't forget how you got here. You will never be able to repay what the Gilbert family has given you. Not in this lifetime."

My gaze dropped to the floor. "I understand."

That night, Zion brought Amy home. He shook me awake from an exhausted, dreamless sleep and jerked his chin toward the door.

"Get out. Don't ruin the mood."

I was already halfway across the room when his voice cracked like a whip.

"Wait at the door. If we need anything, we'll call."

"Okay."

I leaned against the doorframe in the hallway, close enough to hear everything.

Amy's voice floated out firstsugary, coquettish. "She's so well-trained. Like a little dog."

Zion scoffed. "She's worse than a dog. A dog would run away. I gave her everything she has." A pause. The creak of bedsprings. "Where would she even go?"

A faint smile tugged at my lips.

He'd forgotten one crucial detail.

The five-year term was up.

I was free.

1.

"Mia Henson, get the hell in here."

Two hours later, silence finally fell. I rubbed my thighsnumb from standingand pushed open the bedroom door.

*Slap.*

Dirty boxers hit me square in the face.

"Wash them." Zion didn't bother looking up. "And get Amy a fresh set of clothes. We have a cocktail party." His lip curled. "Nothing you've worn. It's filthy."

I peeled the underwear off my face. My expression didn't change.

"Understood."

I moved through the room like a machine. Stained sheets. Used tissues. Condoms scattered across the hardwood. Clothes torn open in a frenzy, shirt buttons popped off and rolled into corners.

Amy lounged on the sofa, wrapped in nothing but Zion's bathrobe. She let out a soft, mocking laugh.

"She really is obedient. Doesn't even get angry." A theatrical sigh. "My servants aren't half this docile."

Zion lit a cigarette. Smoke curled around his sharp features as he crossed to her, tilting her chin up with one finger.

"You know how it is. I'm her savior. Without me, she'd be raising pigs in some mountain ravine. I feed her, clothe her, gave her the title of Mrs. Gilbert." He exhaled a plume of smoke toward the ceiling. "She should be bowing to me three times a day. You think she has the right to feel wronged?"

His leg swung out without warning.

The kick connected hard with my hip.

"Right, Mia?"

It wasn't light. Weakened by the miscarriage, exhausted from hours on my feet, I lost my balance. My knees cracked against the hardwood.

Zion blinkedhe hadn't expected me to fall. But no pity flickered in his eyes.

He kicked again.

Harder.

I sprawled onto my back like a discarded ragdoll.

His voice dropped, dripping venom. "Useless trash. What good are you? Can't even do a simple job properly?"

I didn't retort. I crawled to my knees. Bowed my head.

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

My submission was so absolute it bored him. Zion lost interest, scooping Amy into his arms and carrying her toward the pool.

"Ugh, you're so annoyingyou just won't stop." Amy's whine was playful. "I'm still sore!"

"Isn't that exactly what you like? You hate it when I'm gentle."

"You really are my nemesis..."

Their voices faded down the hall.

I said nothing. My hands continued tidying the room with practiced efficiency.

But hidden from view, my nails dug into my palms until the skin split.

Blood welled between my fingers.

A single tear clung to my lash.

It refused to fall.

*Don't cry, Mia.*

*You'll be free soon.*

*Don't cry... don't cry.*

Two more hours crawled by while Zion and Amy splashed around in the pool. When they finally emerged, I was waiting. Silent. Perfect.

I held out a set of clothes with both hands, head respectfully bowed.

"Ms. Swanson, please try this."

Amy pinched the fabric between two fingers like it was contaminated. Her nose wrinkled.

"Do you have any taste at all? It's so gaudy. Do I look like a festive decoration?" She thrust the dress back at me. "Even my aunt wouldn't wear something this outdated. It's tacky."

"Okay. I'll get something else."

I returned with a plain white dress.

Amy's face darkened the moment she saw it. She snatched the gown and hurled it at my face.

*Slap!*

"Do you have no sense of aesthetics? White from head to toewho died?" Her voice pitched higher. "Are you trying to dress me for a funeral?"

Rhinestones on the bodice scraped across my cheek. A thin line of blood welled up.

Zion's frown flickered when he noticed the cut.

He said nothing.

Amy wrapped herself around his waist, pouting up at him. "Zion, I'm not wearing that ugly rag. Is she doing this on purpose? If I go out in that, the girls will laugh me to death."

Zion scraped a finger down the tip of her nose. Indulgent. Adoring.

"Little peacock. Don't I know you? You just want to outshine everyone." His voice dropped, intimate. "In my eyes, you look good in anything."

Amy batted her lashes. "You're just coaxing me. I bet you haven't even looked properly."

Zion flashed a wicked, predatory smile. "I only look when I'm ripping it off you." His thumb traced her collarbone. "You look best wearing nothing at all."

Crimson flooded Amy's cheeks. She pounded his chest with her small fists. "You're so bad! Don't say thatyour wife is watching. It's embarrassing."

Zion scoffed. "Let her watch. She wouldn't dare breathe wrong." His gaze slid to me, cold and dismissive. "Are you afraid of her?"

They resumed their performance. Hands wandering. Lips brushing. Just short of a live show for my benefit.

Eventually, Zion grabbed a dried date from the snack tray and flicked it at my head.

"What are you staring at? Are you a wooden dummy?" He jerked his chin toward the closet. "Get new clothes. The best. The prettiest. Stop dragging your feet and pretending to be pitiful." His voice hardened. "Haven't I bought you enough?"

My fists clenched at my sides.

"I understand."

When I retrieved the next dress, my hands trembled.

I touched the diamondsstill sparkling brilliantly after five yearsand something cracked inside my chest.

"So beautiful," I whispered.

But the one who would wear it would never be me.

I pushed down the rising tide of emotion and carried the gown out.

The moment Amy saw it, her eyes went wide. She reached out, stroking the fabric like it might disappear.

"Beautiful... it's stunning." Her voice was breathless. "This dress is practically tailor-made for me. It suits my temperament perfectly." Her head snapped toward me, accusation sharpening her features. "Why didn't you bring this out earlier? You had something this beautiful hiding away, but you kept bringing me trash. And you claim it wasn't on purpose?"

She grabbed the dress, eager to try it on.

"No!"

Zion lunged forward and snatched the gown from her hands. His gaze locked onto mine like a vice.

"Mia Henson. Who gave you permission to bring this out?"

I met his glare. My voice came out flat. Dead.

"You told me to bring the best and the prettiest. This was the only one I could think of." A beat. "Besides, it's never been worn. It's pristine."

"It matches Ms. Swanson perfectly."

A storm gathered behind Zion's eyes. His jaw tightened.

"Mia. Don't tell me you forgot what this dress is for."

A bitter laugh nearly escaped me.

How could I forget?

This was the engagement gown Zion had given me. Two months before the ceremony, he'd commissioned ALINthe world's top designerto tailor it specifically for my measurements. The 1,088 diamonds were all real, each over a carat. The camellias blooming across the silk were there simply because I'd once mentioned loving them.

I had spent so many nights imagining the day I would finally wear this gown. Interlocking fingers with him. Becoming the "perfect couple" everyone expected us to be.

But on the day of our engagement, Amy was caught in an avalanche in Switzerland.

Zion dropped everything. Flew halfway across the world to find her.

Before I could even slip the gown over my head, I was told the ceremony was canceled.

I didn't blame him then. I just waited. Sent message after message to confirm he was safe.

Ten days later, he finally returned my call.

"Zion, how are you? Are you hurt?" The words had tumbled out, desperate and raw.

Silence stretched across the line. Just as I thought he'd hung up, his voice came throughdistant. Cold.

"Mia, I can't leave her alone. Our wedding..." A pause that lasted a lifetime. "Cancel it."

Even though Zion eventually married me under pressure from the Gilbert family matriarch, his heart had long since abandoned me.

I never had the chance to wear the gown.

On our wedding night, he was drunk. He pointed a shaking finger at my face, breath sour with whiskey.

"Stop dreaming. The only person I love is Amy." His bloodshot eyes bored into mine. "Not you."

Back in the present, Amy's gaze darted between Zion and me. Realization dawnedthis dress meant something.

That only made her want it more.

She grabbed Zion's arm, her voice dripping honey. "Zion, it's so pretty. It'll make my skin glow." Her foot slid up his calf, toes grazing the inseam of his trousers. "Please? Zion... I want to wear it."

"No!"

Zionwho had never denied Amy a single thingrefused her cold.

*Thud!*

"Ah!"

He shoved her away with such force that she crashed into the cabinet. She clutched her arm, wailing.

In the struggle, neither had let go of the gown.

*Rrriiip.*

The masterpiece tore down the middle.

Ruined.

What a pity.

It really was a beautiful dress.

Zion's face turned black as thunder. Ignoring Amy's cries, he grabbed my wrist and dragged me out of the room.

*Bang!*

The door slammed shut.

He spun around. Pinned me against the wall.

His gazeobsessive, terrifyingbore into mine.

Memories surged. Trauma clawed at my throat. I struggled on instinct.

"Let me go! Let go of me!"

His hand clamped around my jaw, forcing my head up. His voice dropped to a possessive growl.

"Mia Henson. You are *mine*."

My body went rigid.

I stopped fighting.

Satisfaction flickered in his eyes. He crushed his mouth to minesavage, bruising, biting and tearing like a beast marking its prey.

"It hurts... let... let me go..."

I tried to turn my head. His grip tightened on my chin, yanking me back.

He wouldn't allow even an inch of escape.

Thirty seconds lateronly when darkness crept into the edges of my visiondid he finally pull back.

He swiped his tongue over his bottom lip.

Tasted the copper bloodstain he'd left behind.

Those predatory eyes pinned me in place. A wolf cornering its prey.

His fingers found my earlobe. Rubbed it slowlyintimate.

Chilling.

"Mia Henson." His breath was hot against my ear. "Don't even think about leaving me."

His grip tightened.

"You are mine. *Only* mine."

"I can do whatever I want to you. I am your entire world. You will never forget me."

His mouth found mine again, breath hot and ragged against my skin.

"Mia Henson, you are *mine*."

The words drilled into my skull like a relentless reminder.

No warmth. Only a suffocating weight pressing down, down, down. A cold-blooded serpent coiling around its prey. Ice flooded my veins. A chill slithered down my spine. My body trembled*traitor*betraying every ounce of resolve I'd fought to hold.

But I refused to respond.

Fists clenched. Spine rigid. A wooden statue.

His eyes bored into mine, searching for a flickerany flickerof affection. Of love.

My gaze gave him nothing. Empty. Hollow. He manipulated my limbs like a marionette, and I let him. No resistance. No satisfaction.

His anger spiked.

"Do you love me?" The words dropped an octave, heavy with menace. "Mia Henson, *do you love me?!*"

"Say it! You love me! Say you fucking love me!"

My lips pressed into a thin, pale line.

Silence.

It drove him over the edge. He shook me, fingers digging into my arms hard enough to bruise.

"Mia Henson, are you fucking *mute*?!"

His voice cracked with rage. "You used to crawl for my attentioncouldn't beg enough just to see me once. Now I'm giving you what you want, and *this* is how you act?! Playing hard-to-getis that fun for you?!"

*Smack!*

My hand connected with his cheek before I knew it was moving.

My fingers trembled in the aftermath.

The memory of *that* night surged like bile

I still remembered the euphoria when he first held me. I had overcome every fear, cast aside every shred of dignity to stay with him, begging the universe that this intimacy would make him love me. Just a little. Just *enough*.

But the moment I let my guard down and embraced him, his lips brushed my forehead, and he murmured softly:

"Amy... do you like it..."

A bone-piercing chill.

Shattered.

In that moment, my heart stopped. My chest forgot how to rise and fall.

"You... you've got the wrong person!"

I shoved him away, snatching the blanket to cover my trembling body, retreating to the corner of the room like a cornered animal.

Zion Gilbert hit the floor. He rubbed his aching brow, gaze shifting from the mess on the bed to mecowering like a frightened rabbit.

His face darkened.

"Mia Henson, I *warned* you."

"No! It wasn't meit was *you*!" I stammered. "You grabbed me. I thought... I thought"

"You thought I fell in love with you?" A cruel laugh. "Thought I wanted to be a *real* husband? Dream on."

"I drank too much. Walked into the wrong room. That's all." His eyes turned to ice. "Remember this, Mia Henson: the only person I love is Amy. No matter what you do, it's useless."

"If there's a next time, I won't spare you."

The door slammed.

I collapsed in the cold corner, curling into myself, knees to chest, arms wrapped tight.

"Soon... it's almost time..."

"Hold on, Mia. Just hold on a little longer..."

Despite swallowing emergency contraception immediately, I still got pregnant.

When Zion found out, he destroyed everything he could get his hands on. Furniture. Glass. Walls. Finally, he pointed a shaking finger at my face and issued his decree:

"I won't let this child be born. Get rid of it."

Then he took Amy Swanson to Japan for Christmas.

I faced the surgery alone.

My mother-in-law discovered the appointment and volunteered to accompany me.

In name, it was care.

In reality, surveillance.

I had suffered enough. The bitterness of loving him had bled me dry. Now I only wanted to repay the Gilbert family's kindnessand obtain my freedom.

"Zion, where were you? The banquet is about to start. We need to leave."

Amy Swanson's voice drifted in. She had been looking for him.

Zion shot me a warning glare, mouthing the words: *I'll deal with you when I get back.*

He stood, straightened his suit, and walked out with a charming smile plastered across his faceas if nothing had happened.

"Impatient, aren't we, little cutie?"

"You're terribleleaving me hanging for so long," Amy pouted.

A brief exchange of flirtatious banter. Then they were gone.

Only when I was certain they'd left did I pull out my phone.

My hands wouldn't stop shaking as I dialed.

"Dad, I want to go home."