• Chapter 1

  • After five years of marriage, Navier Armstrong wanted a divorce.

  • When she arrived at the office, she spotted the secretary heading toward her husband Lysander

  • Vanderbilt’s office with a stack of documents.

  • Using the excuse that she was heading the same way, she took the stack of papers, discreetly slipping the divorce agreement among them.

  • As she handed over the documents, Lysander was on the phone.

  • Without even glancing at them, he signed everything–including the divorce agreement.

  • Navier stared at his signature on the divorce papers, momentarily lost in thought.

  • So this is it. It’s finally ending.

  • Just as she reached for the documents to leave, her elbow accidentally knocked over a delicate picture frame on his desk. It toppled over, glass shattering across the surface.

  • The smiling girl in the photo was now partially obscured by broken glass.

  • It was Ophelia Belmont, Lysander’s deceased first love.

  • “What the hell are you doing?!”

  • Lysander abruptly ended his call, his voice snapping with fury.

  • He shot to his feet and roughly shoved Navier aside.

  • She stumbled backward and her palm landing on shards of glass. Sharp pain shot through her hand, but she bit her lip, refusing to cry out though tears welled up involuntarily.

  • Looking down, she watched blood dripping from her fingertips, staining the documents on the floor.

  • Lysander seemed oblivious to her pain.

  • He knelt down, carefully picking up the photograph and gently brushing away the glass fragments,

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  • Chapter 1

  • terrified of causing the slightest damage. His movements were tender and focused, as if handling a

  • priceless treasure.

  • stared at the man before her, a wave of indescribable desolation

  • breathing human

  • Lysander looked at her, his eyes cold as ice. “Don’t come to my office again without my permission.”

  • blood–stained documents from

  • leave.

  • bleeding, but

  • doorway, she heard Lysander making

  • of urgency. “Have you found

  • on the other end said something, and Lysander’s voice betrayed a hint of barely

  • suppressed anguish.

  • the hell

  • this isn’t

  • paused mid–step, her heart twisting with a

  • at her bloodied palm and the corner of her

  • still can’t make it? Well, I did. Don’t worry, I’ll train her perfectly, and then I’ll personally deliver her to

  • to her private estates, Lakeside

  • the scenery blurred past

  • Lysander had grown up together–childhood friends. And she had

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  • heart had never belonged to her.

  • from the moment

  • twenty years old, Ophelia fell ill

  • that, Lysander became despondent, only reluctantly accepting the arranged marriage with

  • Manhattan social circle knew how much Navier loved Lysander.

  • tolerated it when he kept a memorial corner in his home for Ophelia Belmont,

  • if she were still alive.

  • he covered their bedroom with Ophelia’s photos, whispering to

  • like she was

  • pain from his obsessive

  • his side long enough, he would eventually turn around and fall

  • with

  • that someday he would forget about Ophelia, they would have children and live happily

  • of

  • pregnant three times and each ended in “accidental”

  • her third

  • been slipping abortion pills into Navier’s food every time

  • finds out, she’ll be crazy.”

  • to do with me?” Lysander’s voice was cold. “If I had a child with

  • realized her previous miscarriages weren’t accidents at all–Lysander

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