My Husband Sold Me to An Auction To Fund His Mistress

I spent another day in the hospital. My body was still weak, but the silence hurt more than the pain. I thought maybe Dominic would finally show some care—maybe ask how I was. But when the door opened, the first thing he said was, “Did you ditch the client? Seriously, Hannah? I sold you for a reason. You could’ve just played your part so I could get the money.” I froze. My chest tightened. “You… sold me?” I asked slowly. “Are you insane?” He didn’t even look guilty. “I told you I need money, and what’s wrong with that? I am your husband, so I can use you as an asset. But you ruined it!” “Then you could’ve asked!” I shouted. “If you need help and money, you can ask me. How dare you sell me? They tortured me—” He cut me off sharply. “I need more, Hannah. And I’m sure you wouldn’t give it to me. You’ve been hiding deals from me. Do you think I don’t know you’ve been stealing clients behind my back?” “I didn’t steal anything from you!” I snapped. “It’s not my fault they want to work with me and not your company! You should do better!” He gave a dry, humorless laugh. “Or maybe it’s because you’ve been seducing them.” I stared at him, disgusted. “What did you just say?” “You heard me.” His eyes narrowed. “And don’t think I don’t know about the man who saved you that night. Who is he? Your boyfriend? Your paramour? Tell me!” “No!” I yelled. “There’s no one! I don’t have anyone—maybe it’s you who has someone else so you want to kill me!” The sound came fast—a sharp crack echoing across the room. He slapped me. My cheek stung, and I could taste blood on my lip. “This is your fault,” he said coldly. “Because of you, I didn’t close that deal. So you better settle this, Hannah. If you have to seduce the client, then do it. Otherwise, you need to give me everything from your company!” My voice trembled, but I forced myself to speak. “You’d say that to me? After everything? I lost our baby, Dominic! And I can't get pregnant anymore.” He looked at me without a trace of emotion. “So what? It’s just a baby. It’s not like I ever wanted one with you.” For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. His words pierced deeper than the slap. I felt my vision blur, and before I could say anything else, he turned and left the room. When the door shut, the silence broke me. My hands shook as I covered my face, and I cried—hard and uncontrollably. It wasn’t just pain anymore. It was the realization that the man I had loved was long gone, maybe he never existed at all. Then came the flashback. I saw it clearly—the beginning, when we were still enemies pretending to be husband and wife. Dominic and I never had peace. We fought over everything—projects, clients, even the color of our office walls. “You think you’re smarter than me just because your father handed you half of the company?” he once shouted across the room. “At least I earned my half!” I threw back. “You’re just scared that I might actually be better than you.” He slammed his hand on the table. “You’re impossible.” “And you’re arrogant,” I spat. Those were our early days—sharp, ugly, and full of hate. Sometimes he’d grab my wrist when I tried to walk away; sometimes I’d shove him back. We were chaos disguised as a marriage. But somewhere along the line, the shouting softened. He started showing up to my meetings. Bringing me coffee. Asking if I’d eaten. “You’ll get sick if you keep skipping meals,” he said one night, placing a bowl of soup beside my laptop. I remember laughing quietly. “Since when did you start caring?” He only shrugged. “You’re my wife. I have to.” It was stupid how that made me smile. For the first time, I thought maybe things could be different. Maybe we could actually be a real couple, not just two enemies forced to share a name. He began to change—gentler, warmer. He kissed me goodnight. He remembered anniversaries. And I fell, completely, believing he was falling too. But now, lying in this hospital bed, I realized the truth. All of it—his kindness, his gestures, his care—had been a lie. A strategy. He had never loved me. And I had been too blind to see it. I wiped my tears and reached for my phone. My hands still trembled, but my voice was steady when I spoke. “Mr. Cruz,” I said when my lawyer answered. “I want to file for a divorce.” There was a pause. “Mrs. Hale… I’m not sure that would be possible right now.” “What do you mean?” I asked sharply. “Both your families are tied by several contracts. Your father and Mr. Hale’s father won’t agree to it easily. It could destroy the business alliance—” “I don’t care,” I interrupted. “Draft the papers.” He hesitated. “Even if I draft it, you’ll need your father’s approval to proceed. Without that, the court won’t—” “I’ll convince him,” I said coldly. “Just do what I said.” He sighed. “Understood, Mrs. Hale.” “And one more thing,” I added. “Make sure every investor, every partner we can reach—moves to my company. I don’t want Dominic to have a single one left.” I discharged myself and went home alone. My body was tired, but my mind was sharp. As I walked through the hallway, voices stopped me cold. Dominic… moaning with a woman. My chest tightened, a mix of anger and disgust. I didn’t hesitate. I pushed open the door. He didn’t even flinch. He didn’t stop. He just looked at me for a brief second before returning to what he was doing, completely unashamed. I took a steady breath, my eyes burning with fury. “Let’s get a divorce,” I said, my voice calm but deadly. “I’m done. I’m done with lies, with betrayal, with everything you’ve done.”

“Let’s get a divorce,” I said, my voice calm but deadly. “I’m done. I’m done with lies, with betrayal, with everything you’ve done.” He laughed—long, hollow. “Divorce? Never. I will never divorce you, Hannah. I will make you suffer. Watch me.” He smirked and, without a pause, turned back to the woman at his side, his hands already roaming. “I’ll moan for someone else,” he said, loud enough for me to hear as if he were savoring the insult. “You’re doing this because you didn’t close a deal?” I asked, because the idea of him wrecking our marriage over money was ridiculous and cruel. “So this is revenge?” He met my eyes, cold. “No. This is because you were cheating on me. And if I find the man who saved you—” His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. “I will end him.” He didn’t stop. He said it and resumed as if nothing more needed saying. I stood there while his pet continued, and when I thought it might end, it didn’t. Night after night he brought someone new — women who laughed too loud and trailed perfume down the corridor. He made a show of it, leaving doors ajar, letting the house smell like someone else’s sin. One night he tossed a small packet of condoms onto the bed where I sat, folding laundry like I always did. “Buy a bigger pack next time,” he called without looking up. “And grab extras — these never last.” I picked the packet up and flung it back at him. It hit his chest. “Grow up.” He only shrugged. “If you won’t, fine. But pay the girls tonight. The accountant needs the receipts.” “You want me to pay for them?” My voice was flat. Rage warmed my palms. “You’re the wife,” he said with a lazy smile. “Handle it. Keep the house running.” I put the packet into my bag and went to study. I signed the transfer he’d set up without reading it, fingers steady. I’d learned to obey for now — to feed his theater while I gathered proof, investors, and strength. Let him rot in his tastes. Let him believe he broke me. Inside, something colder settled. I would leave. I would take everything he relied on. But until then, I kept my face composed, paid the receipts, and let the house keep burning for him. I told my father. I expected outrage, maybe a command to leave. Instead my father’s face hardened like stone. “It’s your duty to keep him steady,” he said sharply. “You can’t divorce him now. Not when the families and the investors are counting on the alliance. Turn a blind eye, Hannah. Think of the company. It’s your fault for not making sure he’d fall for you.” My hands shook. “You’re asking me to stay and watch?” I couldn’t hide the hurt. “He sold me. He sold me for money—” “You know what’s at stake,” my father said. “Sometimes sacrifices are necessary.” I ran to my best friend Katerina's door and pounded until she opened. She pulled me inside without a word. No questions. Just a hold that made my knees stop shaking. “Katerina…” I couldn’t finish. My voice broke. Tears fell hard and fast. She sat me down on the couch. Jacob, three years old, clung to her skirt and peered at me with wide, trusting eyes. He toddled forward and pressed his small hand against my knee. “Hannah?” he asked, worried. “I’m fine, baby,” I lied. The lie felt useless. Katerina has been my friend since college. We ate late-night noodles together. We shared notes. We shared secrets. She’d been beside me when my father pushed the marriage. She’d watched me change from a rival to a wife. Over the years she became more than a friend. I was Jacob’s second mother. I tucked him in, read him stories, and ran to school plays. I adored him like my own since Jacob’s father left them. She wiped my face with one thumb. “Tell me everything.” So I did. She listened quietly, her eyes steady. But betrayal always comes from the person you least expect. One evening, I went home early from work. I missed her. I thought maybe I’d sleep over at her place like before. Her door was unlocked. I stepped in quietly, planning to surprise her. Then I froze. Voices came from the hallway. Katerina’s voice—shaky but familiar. “You should go home soon. She’s coming here. If you want us to get caught, then stay. I’m tired of hiding, of hiding Jacob. When will you make us legal?” My stomach dropped. Dominic’s voice followed, calm and low. “Soon. I just need time. You know how important this is. Once it’s settled, I’ll fix everything. You and Jacob will have my name… and I will dispose of her and her father.” Katerina sighed. “You’ve been saying that for months. I can’t keep pretending. Jacob is growing, he needs a father.” He chuckled softly. “Patience, love. She’ll find out soon enough. Then we won’t have to hide anymore.” Her voice rose, sharp now. “She’s pathetic! She doesn’t even realize how long we’ve been cheating, how we’ve been hiding everything from her!” I froze. Every friendly laugh, every shoulder I leaned on, every shared moment—it was all a lie. All of it. I couldn’t stay. I left, silent. No one to turn to. No home left. Back in my car, I drove straight to the pier—the place where Dominic once promised forever. The air was cold, the waves restless. I pulled off my ring, stared at it one last time—at everything it had meant, every lie it carried. My hand trembled, but I didn’t hesitate. With one deep breath, I threw it into the sea. The ring disappeared beneath the waves, swallowed whole. Then, shaking but resolute, I pulled out my phone. “Adrian,” I said quietly. “Pick me up. Let’s get married.” The wind stung my face, but for the first time in a long while, I felt free.

I packed my suitcase quietly, folding clothes with shaking hands. My heart was pounding, but my face stayed calm. When Dominic walked in, he froze. “What the hell are you doing?” I didn’t look up. “If you don’t want to divorce me, then fine. But I’m not staying here anymore—while you ruin me piece by piece.” His jaw tightened. “You’re not going anywhere.” “I already am.” He stepped forward, grabbed my wrist. “Don’t test me, Hannah.” I yanked free. “I’ve had enough.” His hand flew before I could move. The slap echoed through the room, sharp and humiliating. My cheek stung. Without hesitation, I slapped him back. “How dare you! I’ve had enough of you already! I’m not letting you—” Before I could finish, a small voice broke through the tension. “Aunt Hannah?” Jacob stood at the door, clutching his toy car. His wide eyes were wet. “Are you okay? Why are you fighting? Are you hurting my Aunt Hannah? You’re bad!” Dominic’s expression shifted—annoyance, then guilt. “I thought you were good,” Jacob continued, trembling. “Jacob, go back to your room,” Dominic said sharply. Katerina appeared behind him, breathless. “Hey—don’t do that. They’re talking.” She gave a nervous laugh. “Sorry, bad timing. I just wanted to see Hannah… Jacob wanted to play with her.” “Play with me?” I said bitterly. “Right. After all, you’re all playing with me.” Katerina blinked, feigning confusion. “What? What’s wrong? Did you two fight again? You should fix this before it gets worse—” “Enough,” I snapped. I walked toward her and slapped her hard. The sound cracked like thunder. She gasped, holding her cheek. “Hannah, what—what’s happening to you?” “You dare act innocent?” I hissed. “Then answer me—who is Jacob’s father?” Katerina’s lips trembled. “Let’s not talk about this here… You know it’s sensitive for Jacob—” “Don’t you dare!” I threw a handful of photos at her. They scattered across the floor—Dominic and Katerina, their faces close, Jacob between them. “Stop lying to me! I know the truth now!” Dominic’s silence was worse than shouting. Then, calmly, he said, “Good. We don’t have to pretend anymore.” He turned to Katerina, voice low. “Stop crying. It’s useless now.” Katerina sobbed. “Dominic, please—” “Enough.” His tone was final. “Hannah, you had your chance. I’ll adopt Jacob. He will carry my name. He deserves it.” Jacob started crying louder. My patience snapped. “Be quiet!” I barked. I love the child but with everything they have done to me, I just couldn’t look at him anymore. Jacob’s cry broke into hiccups. Dominic stepped between us. “Don’t yell at him! He is my son! And you’re just nothing but a pawn in my game! Now that you know everything, then it’s good because Katerina will stay here.” “Then let her stay,” I said, my voice low. “That’s why I’m leaving. I won’t stay to watch you two play house while you ruin me.” He laughed, sharp. “No. You’re not going anywhere. I can’t let you leave and tell my father about the affair before I have everything in place. You can’t ruin this. You think you can walk out and expose me? I still have ways to make money. I can sell you to the highest bidder again. Don’t forget how valuable you are.” Heat roared in my veins. The room spun. “You can’t. You won’t—” Katerina flinched like an innocent. “Dominic, don’t—this isn’t the time—” Her voice was thin. It sounded like panic. I’d believed that show a thousand times. Not anymore. “Stop pretending,” I snapped. “I know exactly who you are.” She went pale. For a second she looked like the friend I’d shared college secrets with. Then the mask cracked. Her eyes hardened. “You don’t get to play the victim now,” she spat. “You threw your ring away. You ran to another man. You left a mess behind.” Every word landed like a punch. “Katerina—” I started. She shoved me first. Hard. The shove sent me stumbling into the kitchen counter. Pain flared against my hip. Jacob wailed and crawled between us. “Stop! Stop it!” His small voice sounded like a knife. “Jacob, stay out of this!” Dominic barked. He stepped forward, pushing between us but Jacob didn’t move away fast enough. Dominic’s arm jerked, meant for me, but it caught Jacob instead. The boy stumbled, lost his balance, and hit the edge of the table before falling hard onto the floor. His cry tore through the air—high, shocked, and pained. “Jacob!” Katerina screamed. She lunged forward, scooping him up as tears streamed down his small face. “Shh, baby, it’s okay. Mommy’s here.” I froze, horror and rage crashing together. “You hit him!” I shouted, my voice shaking. Dominic turned on me, eyes blazing. “You’re the one who made him get in the way! You can’t even control yourself!” “Don’t you dare blame me!” I snapped, stepping toward him. But before I could move again, he grabbed a fistful of my hair. The pain was sudden and sharp. He yanked me sideways like I was nothing. I gasped, tasting copper as my knees buckled. “How dare you hurt my son,” he snarled into my face, his breath hot and bitter. His fingers dug into my scalp until I thought my skin would tear. “Dominic—stop—” I choked out, trying to push him off. He shoved me across the back, hard. I crashed into the table, the edge biting into my ribs. My cheek hit the wood with a thud, and the room spun. They left then. The door shut. That night, I checked into a hotel under a different name. The city lights outside the window flickered like ghosts. I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at my packed suitcase. My phone buzzed. Adrian. “I’ll pick you up soon,” his message read. “We’ll leave everything behind.” Finally, I exhaled. I’d made it out. Or so I thought. A knock came at the door—sharp, official. I frowned, expecting Adrian. “Come in.” The door opened. Two uniformed officers stepped inside. “Mrs. Hannah Hale?” one of them asked. “Yes?” “You are under arrest for the attempted murder of Jacob Hale.” My blood ran cold. “What?” The officer took a step forward. “Please cooperate, ma’am.” The world tilted. The floor seemed to vanish. My knees gave way. “No,” I whispered. “That’s not true.” But the cuffs were already cold around my wrists.

“It wasn’t me,” I said for the hundredth time. “I didn’t hurt him. I didn’t hurt anyone!” The fluorescent lights above me buzzed faintly, slicing through the silence of the interrogation room. My wrists were still raw from the cuffs, my voice hoarse. Two police officers stared at me across the table, expressionless. “Mrs. Hale,” one said calmly, “witnesses stated that you pushed the child. The evidence points—” “I didn’t!” My voice cracked. “It was an accident. Dominic—he—” The door opened. I turned, expecting my lawyer. Instead, Dominic walked in. He was calm, too calm, dressed in his usual tailored suit, not a wrinkle in sight. His expression was pure contempt. “Hannah,” he said softly, almost pitying. “What have you done?” “You know what happened,” I whispered. “You saw—” Before I could finish, his hand struck across my face. The slap echoed through the room, sharp and final. “Dominic!” the officer barked, stepping forward, but Dominic lifted his hand in mock apology. “I’m sorry,” he said. “But seeing her like this—it’s hard to stay calm, after what she’s done.” Blood filled my mouth. I tasted metal. “You—” I could barely speak. He turned to the officers, tone smooth. “My wife, probably soon to be ex, attacked my son. She hit my mistress when she tried to intervene. She’s unstable. We’ve been trying to get her help, but she refused treatment.” “Mistress?” I repeated, my voice barely a whisper. “You dare flaunt it now?” Dominic’s gaze didn’t waver. “Yes. She’s in the hospital now—bruised, bleeding. You nearly killed her. And Jacob…” He paused, shaking his head like he couldn’t bear to continue. “He’s terrified of you.” My stomach turned. “You’re lying.” He looked straight at me. “Then prove it.” But I couldn’t. I had no camera footage, no witnesses, no one left who would stand by me. They booked me that night. I barely remembered the ride—just the flash of cameras, the muffled questions from reporters, the word murder whispered like poison. By morning, the police told me I could post bail while the case was “under review.” It felt like mercy, but it wasn’t. I just wanted to go home—to tell my father what had happened, to make him see that I wasn’t the monster Dominic made me out to be. I signed the release papers with trembling hands. My lawyer said something about keeping quiet, about how the truth would “surface eventually.” But I didn’t hear most of it. I only heard my own heartbeat and the faint buzz of the city outside. When I finally stepped into the car, I exhaled for the first time in days. I was free—or so I thought. Halfway home, headlights came from nowhere. Tires screeched. A horn blared. The world spun. Metal screamed against metal. Then—nothing. When I opened my eyes again, everything hurt. My neck. My chest. My legs. I tried to move, but nothing responded. Panic crawled up my throat. “What—what’s happening?” A nurse rushed in. “Ma’am, please stay calm.” “Why can’t I move?” She hesitated. “You were in a serious accident. You’re lucky to be alive.” I tried to sit up, but the weight of my body felt foreign, wrong. “My legs,” I whispered. “I can’t feel my legs.” The nurse looked away. “The doctors are doing everything they can.” That night, as the ward quieted, I heard voices outside my room. Low, tense. One of them was Dominic. “Just keep treating her,” he said. “Pretend you’re helping.” The doctor’s voice was nervous. “But, sir, with therapy, there’s a chance she could—” “No,” Dominic cut him off sharply. “Don’t make her walk again. I like her this way—useless. She can’t run, can’t talk to anyone, can’t ruin things anymore. At least she’ll finally learn her place.” I froze, breath caught in my throat. “Sir, that’s unethical—” “I don’t care,” Dominic said coldly. “Do what I’m paying you for. Keep her quiet. She can stay alive long enough to watch me with my mistress. That’s all she’s good for now.” Footsteps retreated down the hall, the sound fading like a nightmare crawling away. I lay still, my fingers gripping the sheets until my nails dug into skin. My vision blurred from tears I refused to let fall. He had taken my voice, my name, my body—and now he wanted my will. When the door opened again, I wiped my tears quickly, pretending to sleep. Dominic stepped inside. He stopped beside my bed, hands in his pockets, the same arrogant calm as always. “Look at you,” he murmured. “Quiet for once. Peaceful. I almost prefer you like this.” I stared at him through the reflection on the metal tray beside me. He smiled faintly. “Don’t worry,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “I’ll visit sometimes. You’ll have a front-row seat to my life with Katerina. Maybe I’ll even bring Jacob to see you—just so you can remember what a real family looks like.” He left laughing softly. I broke then. Silent sobs tore through my chest. I wanted to scream, to claw at the walls, to tear out the IV lines and run—but my legs were dead weight, my body a cage. The next afternoon, the door opened again. Katerina. She was dressed in white, her hair loose, her smile soft and poisonous. She carried flowers. “Oh, Hannah,” she said sweetly. “You poor thing.” She set the bouquet on the table and leaned closer, her perfume choking me. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of Dominic while you spend the rest of your life in bed.” She tilted her head, smirking. “Maybe it’s better this way. You were never strong enough to keep him anyway.” My throat tightened, but no words came. She gave me one last look of pity and walked out, humming as if she hadn’t just torn out the last piece of my soul. When the lights dimmed that night, I thought it was over. Maybe this was what dying felt like—slow, quiet, unseen. Then I heard the door click open again. A familiar voice whispered, “You’re safe now.” Adrian. He appeared beside me, eyes sharp, breath quick. “I’m sorry, I was too late. Let’s go. I’m bringing you with me.” He carried me. We slipped through the back exit of the hospital. A black car waited. Adrian settled me inside and drove fast, the city lights blurring into streaks. A small plane waited, engines humming. He carried me up the narrow steps, his arms firm beneath me. Inside, the lights were low, the world quiet. He buckled me in and brushed a strand of hair from my face. As the plane lifted off, the world below shrank into darkness. The pressure in my chest eased, replaced by something faint but fierce—hope. Tears slid down silently. For the first time, they weren’t from pain. I looked out the window at the stars, my voice small but certain in my mind. When I walk again, they will all pay.

Dominic's POV “Hannah’s useless now,” I said, savoring the words. “Paralyzed. She can’t run. She can’t ruin things.” Katerina clinked her glass against mine. “Finally. We can breathe. No more lies. No more secrets in the dark.”We sat close, shoulders touching. The cruise hummed with music and smiling couples. Nobody knew what we’d done. Nobody needed to know. “We’ll make it official soon,” I said. “Adoption first. Make Jacob mine on paper. Then the wedding. People will bow.” I watched her eyes. She wanted the ring. She deserved it. Katerina smiled. “And your father? Your family?” she asked. I shrugged. “I already fed them what they needed. I sent Dante the folder—proof of Hannah’s affair. When they see it, they’ll be disgusted. Her father will be ashamed; he’ll hand over his shares as compensation. My parents will agree to divorce. Everything shifts to us.” She nodded, pleased. “And Hannah?” I leaned back, relaxed. “What do you think? We can keep her. She’s broken. She can’t speak up. She can’t walk away. We’ll control the narrative.” I watched the tiny flush on her cheeks. “I’m not a killer, Katerina. We don’t need blood. A body that obeys is better than a corpse. She still has her mind. Useful when it comes to business.” She chuckled, sly. “We could make her eat something disgusting on camera just to humiliate her. Keep her small. Make her like a pet.” We laughed together. The sound felt like victory. We didn’t see the shadow near the railing—someone cloaked in darkness, phone out, recording every word. The shadow swallowed our laughter and the ocean’s steady slap and saved it all. The next morning, my father, Dante summoned me to the office. I walked in with a grin. Confident. The folder had done its job. I expected a hand on the shoulder, approval, a quiet nod—everything mapped out. Dante sat behind his desk and didn’t stand. He didn’t offer his hand. He pushed a thick file toward me instead. “Is that the folder?” he asked, not looking up. “Yes,” I said. “I sent it last night. It’s everything. Proof she cheated. With men. With partners. It proves motive. We can actually use it against her and her family.” I watched Dante flip the pages, waiting for the nod, the quiet approval I’d rehearsed a hundred times. I pictured him leaning back, a slow smile, the same look he gave when a plan fell into place. He would see the proof. He would stand with me… and finally give me the divorce I have been waiting for. “Son,” he said instead, slow and careful, “what did you tell me?” “That it’s time,” I said. “Divorce her. I don’t love her anymore; she just used me and even dared to cheat on me. We can keep her, though—paralyzed, but her ideas are brilliant for the company. She betrayed us. We take everything. Her father will be shamed. The investors will—” Dante shut the folder with a soft slap that sounded like a verdict. “You told me she cheated,” he said. His eyes bored into me. “And you told me you sent proof.” My confidence stayed polished. “Yes. Dates, messages, photos. Motive. It’s airtight—” He laughed. It wasn’t a surprise. It was not the laugh of a man amused; it was a small, cutting thing. “You think you know everything, don’t you?” He pushed the folder back toward me. “Look again.” I turned the pages faster. The photos were there—late-night hotel receipts, transfers, timestamps. My pulse thudded when I hit the page I hadn’t expected: me, Katerina, close in ways I’d wanted kept private. Then another—Jacob’s paternity test, stamped and signed. “You—” I started, panic flickering. I hadn’t expected this. I hadn’t expected him to know. My father had always turned a blind eye to everything—he had his own mistress, after all. Why would he care about mine? “There’s a mistake,” I said quickly, forcing calm into my tone. “Katerina and I—she was comforting me. Hannah was hysterical. You know how she gets when things don’t go her way.” Dante’s eyes hardened. “Comforting?” His voice was low and sharp. “That’s what you call it now? You turned her best friend into your mistress and crippled her in the process—and you want me to believe it’s comfort?” “She—she cheated first!” I shouted. “She drove me to it! I had to protect the family’s name. I sent you the proof—” He cut me off with a cold laugh. “You mean the proof you fabricated? The one that was meant to paint her as a whore while you played the victim?” He slammed his fist against the table. “You dare turn Hannah into evil to justify what you’ve done?” My chest burned. “I did it for the company! For us! If her father learns what she did, the shame alone would make him hand everything over—” “And what if he learns what you did?” Dante roared. “What if he learns you framed his daughter, made her paralyzed for your mistress? Do you know what that will cost us? Do you even understand the magnitude of your stupidity?!” I clenched my fists. “You’re overreacting. She can’t do anything anymore. She can’t even speak. She’s paralyzed! She’s better off silent, and I can still use her—use her image, use her father’s guilt. She’ll be useful to me one way or another.” Dante stared at me as if I were poison. “Useful?” His voice dripped with disgust. “You speak of her like an object. Like she’s not human.” “She isn’t anymore!” I snapped. “She’s just… there. I’ll take care of her. I’ll feed her, keep her in the house, and use her when needed. As long as she’s alive, her father will never let me go. It’s leverage. She’s leverage.” He shook his head slowly, a bitter smile spreading across his face. “You really are your own downfall.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” I hissed. He reached behind him and picked up a single folder—sleek, crisp, new. “It means you can’t use her anymore.” He tossed it across the desk. “She already beat you to it.” I frowned and opened it. The air drained from my lungs. The papers were official. Stamped. Signed. Divorce Petition: Hannah Elaine Hale vs. Dominic A. Hale. Filed. Processed. Irrevocable. I looked up. Dante’s gaze didn’t waver. “She already divorced you,” he said, his tone like a verdict. The whole room spun as I stood frozen.