Chapter 1

663words2026-02-26 05:58

I grew up with Leo Sinclair, the so-called prince of Manhattan's elite.
At the peak of our love, he tattooed my name over his heart.
He transferred most of his assets into my name.

He swore in front of everyone that he would marry no one but me.
But eight years passed.
He never brought up marriage again.
Then the rumors started.
Leo and his new executive assistant were inseparable.
He began taking her to every gala and charity event.

He once even punched a reporter who accidentally jostled her at a press conference.
He had the tattoo of my name lasered from his chest…
He even secretly married her on our eight-year anniversary.
Afterwards, he casually explained to me over dinner,

"Sofia said she's here to complete some mission. If I don't marry her, she'll die in the most painful way possible."
"Don't overthink it. It was just a ceremony."
"Your name will still be on our marriage certificate."
I smiled like it was nothing.
But inside, my heart was being torn to shreds.
I left New York on a rainy night.
I changed my number and erased every trace of myself from his world.
A week later, he showed up at my family's Hamptons estate, furious.
"Sylvia, you're breaking up with me over something this trivial?"
"Or is this some game? Playing hard to get, trying to force a proposal out of me?"
I looked at him without saying a word.
So in Leo's mind, marrying me had become a form of pressure.
Whether Sofia would die a painful death if she failed her mission, I didn't know.
All I knew was that I was the one dying…
I walked out of the oncology center as a light snow began to fall.
I stared at the terminal diagnosis that said my life was ending, lost in thought.
After a long time, I finally called Leo.
The phone rang mechanically, over and over.
It was about to go to voicemail when he finally picked up.
I stammered, caught off guard by him picking up. "Leo, what are you up to?"
"Today's our eight-year anniversary, and there's something I want to talk to you about—"
"Sylvia, are you serious right now?"
He cut me off, his voice dripping with impatience.
"Can you not live without me for five minutes?"
"Is an eight-year anniversary some important occasion?"
I was speechless, all my words stuck in my throat.
A sour ache spread through my chest.
Just as I gathered my thoughts to speak again, a sweet, cloying voice came through the receiver.
"Leo~ aren't you done yet?"
"Everyone's making me take shots. You have to come save me."
I heard Leo's voice instantly softened, even smiling a little.
"Who's bothering you? Just wait, I'll deal with them."
"Go wait inside, baby. It's cold."
Then back to me, his voice turned to ice.
"Stop calling me. It's pathetic!" Without a hint of hesitation, he hung up.
I stood frozen in the snow.
Just staring at my phone screen for a long time.
Leo and I—we grew up next door to each other in Greenwich.
To me, he was the guy with the great looks, the sweet personality, top grades—pretty much perfect.
I was the quiet art student who preferred sketching to socializing.
But Leo never treated me like I was weird.
He'd actually chase away the kids who made fun of my paintings.
Like a knight, he protected me, year after year.
Then came the accident eight years ago.
My parents died in a car crash on their way home from the airport.
I fell into a deep depression, tried to kill myself several times.
But every time, Leo was there to save me.
An eighteen-year-old kid who arranged my parents' funeral.
Who sat with me through every therapy session.
Who literally pried pills from my hands on my darkest nights.
He was the only beam of light in my world that had gone completely dark.