---- Chapter 2 Harper Griffin POV: The weight of the suitcase was nothing compared to the weight in my chest as | packed my life into three leather- bound boxes. Every object was a memory, a testament to the five years | had spent trying to become the woman | thought Adler Irwin wanted. My fingers brushed against a small, velvet box at the bottom of my jewelry drawer. | didn't need to open it to know what was inside. A simple silver locket, shaped like a heart. It was the first gift he' d ever given me, on our one-year anniversary. | remembered how my heart had soared, thinking it was a sign that he was finally seeing me, loving me. A week later, | saw him gift Juliana Pitts a diamond necklace that cost more than my car. He' d dismissed it as a "business necessity," a gift to maintain a good relationship with the Pitts family. The locket suddenly felt cheap, like a consolation prize. Still, | had worn it every day, a desperate talisman to ward off the truth. Now, the truth was all | had left. With a flick of my wrist, | tossed the velvet box into the nearby trash can. It landed with a soft, unsatisfying thud. A part of me, the old Harper, recoiled. But the new Harper, the one ---- forged in the cold fire of the hospital, felt nothing but a hollow sense of relief. "Playing games again, Harper?" Adler' s voice cut through the silence of the bedroom. He was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, a smug, infuriatingly handsome smirk on his face. He looked as if he was watching a mildly amusing play, not the dissolution of his marriage. "I'm leaving, Adler," | said, not looking at him, focusing on folding a sweater with meticulous care. "And where will you go?" he sneered. "Back to your parents 'empty house? Who's going to pay your bills? You haven't worked a day since we married. You can't survive without me." His words were meant to sting, to remind me of the gilded cage | had willingly walked into. | had given up my scholarship, my career, my entire future in architecture, all for him. He had promised me a world of love and partnership. He had promised to support my dreams. "You promised," | murmured, the words escaping before | could stop them. His smirk widened into a cruel grin. He pushed off the doorframe and walked toward me, his presence filling the room, sucking all the air out. He stopped right in front of me, his shadow falling over me. ---- "And you were naive enough to believe me," he whispered, his voice a low, mocking caress. | felt a tremor of the old fear, the instinct to shrink back, to apologize, to make myself smaller to appease him. But then | looked into his cold, gray eyes, and | saw nothing of the man | thought | had married. Just a stranger. A monster who wore a handsome mask. The pain of that realization was so sharp, so absolute, it burned away the fear. All that was left was ice. "Get out of my way," | said, my voice as cold as his. Before he could respond, Juliana appeared behind him, a triumphant gleam in her eyes. She draped herself over his arm, her red-painted nails a stark contrast against the crisp white of his shirt. "Darling," she purred, looking around the room with distaste. "When she's finally gone, we should have all of this redecorated. Maybe just burn everything and start fresh. Get tid of the lingering scent of desperation." Adler didn't even flinch. He just smiled down at her, a genuine, warm smile that he hadn't given me in years. "Whatever you want, Jules." "She'll be back, you know," Juliana said, her eyes flicking to me, filled with contempt. "She'll run out of money in a week and come crawling back to you, begging for forgiveness." ---- He leaned down and kissed her, a deep, possessive kiss right in front of me. It wasn't a quick peck. It was a slow, deliberate performance of passion, meant to gut me. It was a declaration that | had been replaced, that | had never mattered at all | watched them, my body numb, my heart a frozen stone in my chest. | felt like a ghost in my own home, watching my life being erased piece by piece. Juliana, breathless and flushed, finally pulled away. She picked up a framed photo from my bedside table-a picture of me from my college graduation, beaming with pride, my diploma in hand. "Let's start with this," she said with a malicious grin, and tossed it into the fireplace. The glass shattered. The flames licked at the edges of the photograph, curling the image of my smiling face into black ash. One by one, they started throwing my things into the fire. My books, my clothes, the few sentimental items | had left from my parents. Adler watched, a passive king observing the destruction of a conquered territory. "Adler, stop them," | begged, the ice around my heart cracking. He just looked at me, his expression unreadable. Then Juliana grabbed a wooden box from my closet. It was a ---- small, hand-carved chest my father had made for me before he died. It held all his letters, his architectural sketches, the last tangible pieces of him | had left. "No!" | screamed, lunging for it. "Not that! Please!" Juliana laughed, a high, cruel sound. "Oh, this? But you threw away his precious locket yourself, remember? Why care about this old box now?" She held it over the flames, teasing me. "Please, Juliana," | pleaded, tears streaming down my face. "I'll do anything." "It's too late for that," she sneered. "Juliana, that' s enough," Adler said, his voice quiet but firm. It was the first time he had intervened. For a wild, stupid moment, | thought he was defending me. But he was looking at Juliana, his eyes soft with concern. "Be careful. Don't get too close to the fire." My world shattered. He wasn't protecting me or my father's memory. He was worried about her. Juliana, emboldened, dropped the box. | didn't think. | just moved. | plunged my hands into the flames, ignoring the searing pain, and snatched the box from the fire. The wood was scorching hot, the metal latch burning into my palm, but | didn't let go. | stumbled back, cradling the box to my chest, my hands ---- screaming in agony. Adler rushed forward, but he didn't come to me. He pulled Juliana back, checking her over for any injuries. "Are you alright? Did you get burned?" He didn't even glance at me. At my hands, which were already blistering, the skin red and raw. | looked down at the scorched box, then at my ruined hands, and finally, at the man | had given up everything for. He was looking at me now, but there was no pity in his eyes. Only a cold disappointment, as if | had failed some final, twisted test. "You see, Harper?" he said softly. "This is what happens when you're disobedient. Maybe now you've learned your lesson." He expected me to break. To fall to my knees and beg for his forgiveness, for his help. But as | stood there, the smell of burnt wood and my own seared flesh filling my nostrils, | felt a strange sense of peace. He had taken everything from me. My career, my children, my dignity. He had burned my past. Let him Because in the ashes, something new was being born. And it was hungry for justice. My lawyer' s text message came through then, a single, powerful sentence that sealed Adler' s fate. ---- "The betrayal clause is active. The five-year window is closed. The Griffin Trust is yours." | looked up at Adler, a slow smile spreading across my face, a smile that didn't reach my eyes. He would burn for this. | would make sure of it.