Chapter 1 1

Evelyn’s POV I had truly believed Eric was my soulmate in years that we married. He had appeared in my life when I was at my lowest to save and love me. Until I overheard him speaking with his assistant. “The whole reason I married Evelyn was to keep her under control—so she wouldn’t have the chance to interfere with Isabella’s perfect marriage.” In that moment, I realized our marriage was never built on love. It was a carefully crafted lie… all for another woman. The laughter in the room didn’t fade; it only grew louder, more mocking, more suffocating. Adam’s voice rang out, like praising, “Hadn’t I picked the two perfect scums then, Boss? Even Evelyn killed one of them, the other still kept his mouth shut” Eric scoffed, the sound low. “Anyway I was planning to send Evelyn onto one of my regular shipment trip. The police are onto us. Since she’s been to prison once, I figured she won’t mind going back again and covering for me.” Adam replied smoothly. “She’ll jump at that chance, Boss. She’s always seen herself as your equal, always wanting to help around. If you tell her you need her for that drug shipment, she’ll be all in.” A cruel laugh rippled through the room. “Boss, what if she finds out the truth? About what happened six years ago…” Eric’s smirk was unmistakable. “A girl like her? Impossible. I’d shown up at her lowest. Now I say one word, and she’ll come crawling to me like the loyalest puppy.” The rest of their conversation dissolved into an unintelligible blur, but those words—those words hung in the air like a noose around my neck. I stood frozen at the door, my heart pounding so hard I wasn’t sure if I was going to faint or die on the spot. I clamped a hand over my mouth, fighting the scream that threatened to tear through me. Footsteps grew closer. I turned and sprinted toward the stairs. I ran, faster and faster, until I reached my house—or rather, Eric’s house. I poured myself a glass of whiskey, the liquid burning its way down as I swallowed it in one go, desperate for anything to give me clarity. It was only after that first drink that I could catch my breath. Then the tears came, the sobs I had been holding in, the scream that had been clawing at my throat. And the words Eric had just said… they kept playing on a loop in my mind. … The day before my wedding, I had been kidnapped by two scums. They said they only wanted money—just money—but even after I handed over every last penny, they wouldn’t let me go. Then they said they wanted more. I had no choice but to call my fiancé, Alexander. He answered after three rings, and for that fleeting moment, I thought I was saved. But what happened next destroyed everything. Those two scums harassed me in front of that video chat. I fought back with every ounce of strength I had left, ending up in killing one and injuring the other. When my trial came, I thought Alexander would be there for me, that he would stand up for me, prove that I acted in self-defense. But he didn’t. Instead, he said to me, his voice cold and indifferent, “You disgust me, Evelyn. It must be because you’re such a slut that those men found you. Why else would they target you and not someone else?” I cried. I screamed. I begged him. I told him it wasn’t my fault. That I was just walking down a familiar alley on my way home, wearing a blouse and pants—nothing that should have drawn attention. That he needed to blame the scums who did these to me instead of blaming me. I was the victim here. But Alexander didn’t listen. He decided it was my fault—that a man like him couldn’t survive a scandal like me being harassed. So, he turned his back on me. Left me to face the accusations alone. And just like that, I was sentenced—two years in prison for homicide through negligence, not self-defense. When I was finally released, I thought I could start over, that maybe, just maybe, life could give me a second chance. Then I found out that Alexander had already moved on. He was married… to Isabella, my best friend, no less. I thought I was doomed. Completely, utterly doomed. Eric Graves appeared, like a flicker of hope cutting through the darkness in my life. I had thought how could I possibly be good enough for him? He was the most powerful mafia leader in New York City, and I was just a woman with a record, nothing but shattered pieces to offer. But Eric told me to never worry about being good enough, that he loved me for who I was. Now, standing here, I realized that I had married the very monster who had made my life a living hell. And to make it worse, he had shown up like some twisted savior, acting as if he were the answer to all my pain. It all made sense now. When I left prison, and Isabella came to visit, I had noticed the strange look in her eyes. I had assumed it was because of my time in prison. But no... she knew. She must have known. She knew that Eric had sent those scums to harass me, and she had mocked me for being so naïve, so blind to the truth. Four years of love. Four years spent sharing a bed, sharing my life with Eric, and not once did he make me doubt what we had. I balled my hands into fists, a storm of anger, sadness, and disbelief swirling inside me, threatening to tear me apart. The door swung open, and Eric stepped in. His gaze immediately locked on me, his eyes softening when he saw my tears. His brow furrowed, and he rushed to my side, the picture of a concerned husband. “Who the hell made my babe cry?” His voice was low, dark, and dangerously coaxing. “I’ll kill that bastard for you.” The room fell silent. Eric, seeing me still unresponsive, didn’t wait. He pulled out his gun, pointing it around the room with an unsettling casualness. “Babe, just say the name. I’ll kill them for you.” His gun swung over Adam’s face. I could feel my pulse thundering in my chest. “Stop.” Adam’s eyes widened in disbelief. He trembled, clearly unable to control his fear. “Hadn’t I picked the two perfect scums then, Boss?” His words still echoed in my mind, replaying over and over again like a twisted melody. Just as I was about to call Adam out, Eric turned to me, his tone unnervingly calm. “Today’s such a sunny day. How about we avoid the bloodshed?” I swallowed hard, forcing a smile to my lips, though every fiber of my being screamed in protest. “Sure.” Eric noticed the whiskey glass on the counter. He took my hand gently in his, pulling me into his embrace. “Have you been drinking during the day now?” He noticed. I never drank during the day. Unless something upset me. But I couldn’t afford of his suspicion of any kind now. So, I pasted on a smile and lied through my teeth. “Just feeling a headache. Thought a bit of whiskey can make me better.”

Chapter 2 2

Evelyn’s POV He smiled and patted the back of my head like I was a child. “You should go to hospital if you felt sick. babe.” Then he turned to one of the maids, his voice hard. “Can’t you see Mrs. Graves is drunk? Bring her some lemonade.” The maid nodded, hurriedly leaving the room. She returned shortly with a tray and extended it toward my way. And then, in an instant, Eric pulled out his gun and shot her in the head. The sound was deafening, followed by the sickening splatter of blood and brains across my face. The maid’s lifeless hand still reached out to me, the lemonade mixing with the blood that now stained my skin. I couldn’t hold back my disgust. I wanted to vomit, to run, to scream. Eric didn’t flinch. He wiped his gun clean with his sleeve and looked at me, as if nothing had happened. “She failed at her job, babe. She should’ve waited for my order before serving you that lemonade.” I swallowed hard, the bile rising in my throat, but I forced myself to stay still. Eric was a monster. He wiped the blood from my face with a napkin, his touch disturbingly gentle. “You’re Mrs. Graves now. Don’t ever drink during the day again, alright? If anyone saw you like this, they’d think you’re an alcoholic. And Mrs. Graves can’t be an alcoholic.” I took a deep breath, trying to steady my shaking hands, my whole body trembling with fear and revulsion. “I understand now,” I whispered, the words slipping out as I fought to keep the storm inside me from consuming everything. “Are you feeling sick, love?” Eric’s voice was soft, almost concerned, as he studied my face. “You look like you’re about to faint.”“I haven’t slept well,” I lied, my voice barely above a whisper. “How about you go lie down? We can head to our favorite resort tomorrow, just the two of us.” His tone was so smooth, so comforting—like nothing had ever happened. One moment, he was a monster, and the next, the perfect gentleman. How had I been blind to this for so long? “Sure,” I managed, forcing a smile that didn’t reach my eyes. Once in the bedroom, I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I ran straight for the bathroom, throwing up as the memory of the maid’s brain exploding in front of me flashed through my mind. The blood, the way her hand still reached toward me... I couldn’t shake the terrifying thought that one day, if I angered him enough, I might be next. When the sickness finally subsided, I returned to the bedroom. Eric’s phone was sitting on the nightstand. He must have come in and forgotten it. Without thinking, I grabbed the phone. A glance at the screensaver—a photo of her smiling as Eric spun her in his arms. And the password, Isabella’s birthday. I opened the messages, my heart hammering in my chest. Eric clearly hadn’t thought I’d ever look through his phone, so all the texts between him and Isabella were perfectly saved. The most recent was from today: “How about a dinner together?” I scrolled through them, each one a love letter from Eric. Then I froze, my finger hovering over the screen, pausing on a message from Isabella. “I thought you got shot during your that drug shipment to UK. How are you?” Eric’s reply was chilling: “Evelyn took the bullet for me.”“How heroic of her,” Isabella wrote. “You must be so touched by her move.”“More like stunned. She couldn’t be more like an idiot.” Eric responded. I blinked, a tear slipping down my cheek and landing on the phone’s screen. Back when Eric was on that dangerous drug shipment to UK, I begged to go with him. I couldn’t bear the thought of being so far away away from him after he told me how dangerous that deal was gonna be. He agreed. And the trip later indeed turned into a nightmare. I was shot, and Eric was hit in the back. He recovered quickly, but I didn’t. The bullet that hit me damaged my ovary, and now, I could never have children. I had felt so ashamed for not being able to give him a child, for being broken. Just as I was about to return the phone, my finger accidentally scrolled again, moving to the next message. Eric’s words hit me like a slap. “I’ve loved you ever since you saved me in Mexico. That was heroic for me to save me after that gunfight. If it weren’t for you or your immediate removal surgery, I wouldn’t be alive today.” Save him? Isabella had never touched a surgical knife in her life. She was the nurse. I was the doctor. And I was the one who had saved a man during a brutal gunfight back in Mexico. I performed a removal surgery even with a gun pressing to my head. Not Isabella. A crazy, horrifying thought surged through my mind. Did I save Eric that day? More terrifyingly, Isabella had lied to Eric that it was her who saved him? My hands trembled as I put the phone back down. … After what felt like an eternity, I finally gathered myself together. I pulled out my phone, dialing a number that had been saved in my contacts for as long as I could remember. “Do you still want to wipe Eric out of NYC?”“What are you suggesting?” The voice on the other end was low, curious. “Kidnap me in two days.” My gaze shifted to the photo on my nightstand—the one where I wore a wedding gown and Eric stood beside me, looking every bit the part of the perfect husband. “He’ll give you everything he has, willingly.” I ended the call, just as Eric walked through the door. He had been drinking, and his steps were uneven, as if the alcohol had gotten the best of him. “Who are you calling?” His eyes narrowed, always sharp, always watching. “Better not be some man.” I helped him to the bed, just like I always did. “Of course not. Just some guy who dialed the wrong number.” He relaxed, leaning into my arms as if nothing had changed. “Good. Don’t ever talk to another man besides me.” I tucked him in, then climbed into the bed beside him. But sleep never came. I stayed awake all night, thoughts swirling with everything I had just learned and everything I was planning. … The next day, Eric and I were on our way to the resort he’d mentioned. He got a phone call halfway there and immediately canceled out trip. He said he was going sort out a problem at his casino—a few drunk men had caused trouble there. “Please forgive me, babe. I’ll make it up to you, I swear. Here, use this card.” He handed me a black card, smooth and cold in my palm. “Buy whatever you want, babe.” And just like that, he left.

Chapter 3 3

Evelyn’s POV Ten minutes later, Adam’s car pulled up to pick me up. “Mrs. Graves. Mr. Graves called. He sent me to get you.” I slid into the car without a word, my mind racing. On the way home, my phone buzzed. It was a message from Isabella. A picture to be more precise. Eric was holding her, his arms wrapped around her as she sat on his lap. The background? Ocean. From the image, I could tell it they were on a cruise ship, probably one of that Eric had just bought. A bottle of champagne sat on the table in front of them, two glasses beside it. Eric had lied to me. He wasn’t at the casino. He was with Isabella. A new message popped up beneath the picture. It was a screen shot of Eric’s message to Isabella. “Every night with Evelyn is a torture. I have to imagine it’s you under me, just so I can cum. I miss you so much, Isabella. Sneak out tonight and meet me at my house, alright? Evelyn wasn’t at home and I want you in my bed.” The words on the screen blurred as I looked up from the phone, then I realized the scenery outside the car window wasn’t the familiar route home. “Aren’t we going home?” I asked, my voice sounding weaker than I intended. Adam’s smile twisted, different now—colder and scheming, like the two scums who had kidnapped me. “Going home?” His tone dropped, venom creeping into his words. “Don’t boss me around. You’re no Mrs. Graves to me.” I fought to keep my composure, “Eric would kill you if he knew what you just said.” Adam laughed, a harsh, ugly sound. “Then I’ll just have to keep this from him, won’t I?” He locked the car door with a snap, then slammed his foot on the accelerator. “I’ve got a surprise for you.” The car skidded into a secluded parking lot, the salty tang of the ocean air hitting my senses. We were at the dock now. I made a move to open the door, but Adam was faster, his grip cold and firm as he yanked me out by my hair, slamming me to the ground. I tried to push myself up, but then a searing pain shot through my hand. A heel—sharp and unforgiving—pressed into the back of my hand, digging into my skin. “Long time no see, Evelyn,” a voice purred, cold and sweet. I knew that voice. I looked up, eyes widening in disbelief. It was Isabella. Of course, she was here. She’d been with Eric on the cruise. And the cruise was not far away from the deck. Isabella didn’t just step on my hand; she twisted her heel, squeezing the pressure until I could feel the blood trickling from my palm. Only then did she lift her foot, her gaze full of mock sympathy. Turning, she planted a kiss on Adam’s cheek. “Good job, Adam. I’ll reward you later, alright?” Then, with a smile so cruel it could only belong to a devil, she looked at me. “Poor Evelyn. Being played like Eric and still believed he was your hero.” Adam chuckled, then looked at me cold,“I knew you heard everything the other day. I checked the security footage.” Isabella took a few steps closer, “Gosh, how can you be so stupid. Evelyn. You even make the torture no fun anymore.” Adam joined in, his voice mocking. “Right. And that bullet you took for Eric? Did you know it was meant for you all along?” I struggled to push myself up, the strength of my body betraying me as I staggered to my feet. Before I could even get fully upright, Adam kicked me back to the ground, his foot landing hard against my chest. He spit at my feet, his words full of disgust. “Don’t even try, bitch.”

Chapter 4 4

Evelyn’s POV Isabella's expression suddenly faltered, and she stumbled back a few steps, crying, “Why would you curse me like that, Evelyn? What have I done wrong?” She acted as if I had hit her. Of course it was all a show for Eric. He rushed to Isabella’s side and puller her into his arms, “Are you hurt, Isabella? Are you alright?” Isabella bit her lip. “Evelyn, I know you’re angry with me for marrying your ex-fiance. But I only wanted to make amends, to catch up. Yet you’re still so upset with me. Are you still in love with Alexander, even after marrying Eric?” Her eyes narrowed, and she added, “Even if you hate me, you shouldn’t do this to Eric—loving another man while agreed to marry to him…” She glanced at Eric again, lowering her voice. “Don’t be mad, Eric. Evelyn and Alexander had a long history together..” Eric turned to me, his voice full of accusation. “So, you still love Alexander? He’s the one you called the other day, right? And now you lashed out on Isabella, acting like a crazy woman. What happened wasn’t their fault. It was yours. If you hadn’t gone to prison for your crimes, none of this would have happened.” My crimes? My fault? I pushed myself up from the ground, my gaze locking with Eric’s. “Since we’re talking about facts and faults, Eric, tell me this: Do you love me the way you said you did? Did you marry me because you meant it?” Eric’s expression changed in an instant, and he suddenly roared, “It seems Mrs. Graves has not only lost control of her anger but also lost her mind. Lock her up, Adam. Don’t let her leave until I say so.” With that, he swept Isabella into his arms like a princess and walked away. Adam crouched down in front of me. “Now, I think it’s time for a little fun before I lock you up. What do you say?” I shouted, “Don’t fucking come near me!”“Relax,” he sneered. “I don’t want your body or anything. I’m just going to make a video of you crawling back to the car. You don’t think I will carry you all the way back, do you?” I didn’t move. He leaned in closer, his tone cold. “If you don’t move, I might have to do something you don’t like.” I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood. Then, with no shred of dignity left, I crawled—like a dog—across the dirt. Adam laughed, holding his phone high, gleefully recording my humiliating crawl back to the car. By the time I finally made it into the car, I passed out. … When I woke up, a full day had passed. I was lying on the bed in Eric’s bedroom. Thankfully, my phone was still in my pocket and hadn’t been taken away. I opened it, and immediately, countless of texts from Isabella flooded in, accompanied by videos and pictures. The videos showed Eric gently kissing Isabella on the cheek, surprising her with the latest collection of jewelry, or taking her to a fancy French restaurant and dancing with her to a violin solo. Every moment of it was so unfamiliar. Even during our four years of a fake marriage, Eric had never shown this side of himself to me. I could see the way Eric looked at Isabella. He couldn’t be more in love with her. I swallowed the lump in my throat and slowly pulled myself up from the bed. I went to the study and grabbed the divorce papers I’d prepared the day I learned the truth, along with the picture and flight ticket from the time I went to Mexico, leaving all of them on the nightstand. Eric will notice them, for sure. Then, a noise came from the door. Caleb’s men were here. As they broke in, presumably to take me away from Eric’s house, his message popped up on my phone: “Are you calmer now? Still talking nonsense? Apologize to Miss Isabella for pushing her, and I might forgive you for what you said the other day. Don’t make me look bad, Evelyn. You know I won’t be happy about it.” I simply replied, “My only mistake was saving your ass in Mexico when I should’ve just let you die in that gunfight.” Then, I smashed my phone against the wall and walked out. The phone continued to vibrate on the floor, but I didn’t once look back.

Chapter 5 5

Eric’s POV Isabella said she was bored, so I figured a weekend at the lake house would lift her spirits. It was the least I could do. Meanwhile, Evelyn was locked up at my estate—punishment for both her lackluster performance and the way she shoved Isabella on the deck that day. The audacity. How dare she treat Isabella like that? If it hadn’t been for Isabella, I wouldn’t even be here—literally. So yeah, maybe I went a little too far with Evelyn. I sent her a text earlier, just to check in. No response. Which was…unlike her. Evelyn usually replied quickly, even if it was just with a snarky emoji. But now? Radio silence. My phone vibrated at last, a jolt of relief flickering through me. Only for Isabella to snatch it right out of my hand before I even got the chance to glance at the screen. “No phones, Eric,” she said, lips curling in a playful pout. “You promised me your full attention this weekend.”“Sorry,” I muttered, reaching for it. “It’s probably Evelyn. I just want to make sure she’s okay.” Isabella’s smile vanished. Her eyes glinted red, “I knew it,” she sobbed. “You’re still thinking about her. So why even bother bringing me here if your mind’s stuck on Evelyn? After everything she had done to me, I thought I can live free of her, at least for the weekend.” Before I could reply, she turned sharply and stormed off. “Isabella, wait!” I followed her, my chest tightening. She was right. It wasn’t fair to think about Evelyn—not while I was with Isabella. Not after everything. Still... the last time I saw Evelyn, she hadn’t been herself. Distant. Unsteady. But maybe I was just being paranoid. What could she possibly do? I had bodyguards watching her. When I caught up, I handed Isabella my phone. “Take it. I’m yours this weekend. Only yours.” Her smile returned like sunshine through the storm. She kissed me softly. “You are the best.” She paused, “And, Eric, I sort of want dinner by the lake. Can you go ask the chef?”“Of course, sweetheart,” I murmured, wrapping an arm around her waist. I turned back toward the house but paused—shit. I forgot to ask what she actually wanted for dinner. I jogged back. And froze. Adam was with Isabella. Not talking, but hugging and kissing like a couple. Isabella wrapped her arms around Adam’s neck, kissing his ear and laughing. What the fuck? “Adam, if it weren’t for you,” she said, smugly, “Eric would’ve never believed the story about me saving him back at Mexico. Not to mention whisking me off for this romantic lakeside getaway… and making me the love of his life.” Adam chuckled, sliding his hand over her ass. “How about a little treat later? I’ve missed being under you.” The blood drained from my face. My right-hand man. The woman I thought I loved. Together. Kissing. Making out. Making fun of me. Plotting against me. Adam’s dark laughter rang out. “I’m risking everything here for you, love. If Eric finds out the truth? You know how he gets. He’d kill us both.”“Oh, relax babe,” she cooed. “He would never suspected us. We gave him the perfect performance.” She rested her head against his chest. “By the way,” she asked, almost too sweetly, “how did you handle Evelyn the other day? You didn’t—”“God, no,” Adam sneered. “She’s trash. Not my type. But I humiliated her. Made her crawl on the floor like a dog.” Isabella giggled. “You’re so naughty.” Their lips crashed together. And that was it. I stepped out, raised my gun, and fired a single shot into the air. They jumped apart like guilty teenagers. Adam nearly pissed himself. Isabella went pale as chalk. “Boss, I—it was a joke! Just fooling around!” Adam stammered. “I’d never—” But I wasn’t even hearing him anymore. I wasn’t even angry about him kissing Isabella. I was angry about what he said about Evelyn. Making her crawl. Like a dog. Rage exploded inside me like a grenade. “How dare you,” I growled. I aimed at Adam’s leg and pulled the trigger. He screamed as he crumpled, blood soaking the grass. “I’m sorry! Please. Boss. Please don’t kill me—I’ll tell you everything!” I stalked toward him, gun still smoking. “Then start talking,” I said, voice cold and lethal. “Who actually saved me in Mexico?” Because now I knew—it wasn’t Isabella. And in that moment, I had a very, very bad feeling about who had really saved me. “Eric!” Isabella's voice shrilled behind me. “Don’t believe a word this snake says! Adam threatened me to have sex with him, or he would kill me!” I didn’t even turn around. Didn’t spare her a glance. “Say another word,” I warned coldly, “and the next bullet goes through your face.” Adam crawled over, dragging himself through the blood-soaked dirt, clutching at my pant leg like a dog. “Please, Boss. You have to believe me.” His face was streaked with tears and sweat, “I—I lost my head when Isabella came to me. She begged me to lie to you. Said it would help keep Evelyn out of the picture. But it wasn’t Isabella who saved you in Mexico—it was Evelyn. She was the one who treated your wound. She’s the doctor. Isabella—she’s just been pretending.” He sniffled. “Please… I never meant to hurt you. I thought—” He didn’t finish. His voice collapsed under the weight of his guilt. “And the deck,” Adam added, more quietly now, “that day when Isabella said that Evelyn insulted her… it was Isabella who hit her first. Evelyn never touched her.” Then Isabella was on him like a snake striking, pressing her palm against his mouth. “Shut up!” she hissed. “Eric, don’t listen to him. He’s lying. You know I saved you. You know it was me! And all the good time we had together. That was true too.”