"WHY NO?!"

Sarah's voice cracked as tears streamed down her face. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her eyes red, filled with pain and despair.

She looked at Ronan, silently begging him to understand.

But instead of comforting her, Ronan shouted furiously, "Don't ask me why! Remember, you haven't even given me a son!"

Sarah froze. Those words pierced through her heart like a blade.

Ronan stepped closer, his tone sharper than before. "You disappointed my family five years ago. We were waiting for a male heir from your womb, but all you gave us was a daughter!"

"All I need is one thing, Sarah. A son to carry the Vexler name! You know that!"

Sarah dropped to her knees, her body trembling. She wrapped her arms around herself as if trying to protect the last piece of her dignity.

"If I divorce you now, you'll live alone and end up poor!" he spat coldly. "Don't forget, you were disowned by the Langford family because you married me! You chose this path, so they won't ever help you again."

"Now you're nothing, Sarah. Just a useless woman who keeps pitying herself and hiding behind her weak mental state!"

Sarah sobbed, her hands covering her tear-streaked face. But Ronan kept talking, every word striking her like a whip.

"You should be grateful that my family and I didn't throw you out five years ago. We've been patient enough with a wife who lost her mind because of baby blues, who needed medication just to stay sane!"

He snorted, his tone dripping with disgust. "The entire Vexler family sees you as a crazy wife, Sarah. And I've been kind enough not to divorce you back then. If it weren't for me, you'd probably be locked in a mental hospital by now!"

His words crashed over her like a storm.

Five years ago, after giving birth to Shenina, Sarah's world slowly collapsed. Not because of the pain of childbirth, but because of a truth that hurt even more.

The day after giving birth became her personal hell.

Sarah was diagnosed with depression five years ago, right after Ronan told her he had never loved her.

The Vexler family didn't welcome Shenina's birth with joy. They were disappointed. A daughter was a disgrace to them because not an heir.

Since that day, Sarah's name became a whisper of mockery among relatives and high society. They called her a failed noblewoman, unfit to bear the Vexler name because she couldn't give birth to a successor.

What hurt even more was that her own family never came to visit her. They erased her existence from their lineage. All because of one decision to marry Ronan Vexler, a man without noble blood.

The Langfords called her stubborn, and now, six years later, they believed she was paying the price for her own choices.

Ronan looked at Sarah with disgust and exhaustion. His cold eyes made her feel like nothing more than filth beneath his feet.

"Look at yourself," he said slowly, his voice like poison.

Sarah, crying at the edge of the bed, flinched. Her hair was messy, her eyes swollen, and her wrinkled pajamas made her look fragile. But in Ronan's eyes, her weakness was something repulsive, not pitiful.

"I bet," he continued mockingly, "no man in this world would ever want to pick you up in this condition. You're pathetic, Sarah."

Sarah's tears stopped. Her eyes turned hollow. Every word from Ronan's mouth stabbed deeper into her chest.

Ronan sighed, clearly tired of her presence.

"Do you know what disgusts me the most?" he said again, "You always play the victim. You love to create drama."

"You're a drama queen, Sarah. And I'm sick of you!"

Without another glance, Ronan turned and left the room, slamming the door behind him.

Silence filled the air.

Sarah looked at her reflection in the mirror-a broken, fragile woman staring back.

But deep inside her swollen eyes, a faint spark began to burn-A resolve.

"I'll remember every word you said, Ronan Vexler," she whispered hoarsely.

 "One day, I swear, I'll make you pay for everything you've done."

Three days after their big fight, Ronan had gone abroad with his daughter and Mia for a short vacation.

Now, he was back.

He called one of the housemaids, Hanosa.

"Where is Sarah?" he asked flatly while taking off his coat.

"Is she in her room? Ask her when I can come in."

Hanosa lowered her head politely before answering carefully.

"I'm sorry, Sir. Madam Sarah hasn't returned yet. She left this morning. Maybe she'll be home soon."

Ronan only nodded.

After the maid left, Ronan walked toward Sarah's room.

After sleeping with Mia at her apartment, he planned to do the same with Sarah tonight. But now, he lay on Sarah's bed, watching an adult video he had filmed with Mia. His reason was simple-he could never get aroused by his wife anymore.

So he started to foreplay himself while waiting for her.

But an hour passed. The clock on the wall showed eleven at night, and Ronan was still sitting on the edge of Sarah's bed with a dark expression.

He frowned and stared at the window covered by curtains.

Sarah had never stayed out this late before. Her routine was always the same-come home on time, eat dinner quietly, then spend time with Shenina before going to sleep.

But tonight was different.

The silence in the house made his chest feel tight with a feeling he could not describe-a mix of anxiety and irritation.

He finally reached for his phone, intending to call her.

But as soon as he opened his contact list, his fingers froze. The list was long, filled with names of business partners, his secretary, even a few women who shouldn't still be there.

But there wasn't a single name that belonged to Sarah.

He frowned, staring at the screen that had no trace of his wife's number.

Only tonight did he realize something so simple that after six years of marriage, he had never even saved his wife's phone number.

Ronan exhaled deeply, holding back a frustration he couldn't explain. He walked out of the room and went downstairs with heavy steps.

Hanosa, the loyal maid who had served since his parents' time, looked uneasy when Ronan stopped in front of the kitchen.

"Hanosa," Ronan said softly but sharply. "Give me Sarah's phone number."

Hanosa hesitated for a moment, then nodded.

"Yes, Sir." She took a small notebook from the table and wrote down a few digits on a piece of paper.

"This is the number Madam often uses," she said cautiously.

Ronan snatched the paper without a word of thanks and went back upstairs. His footsteps were quick and heavy, showing how tense his mind was that night.

As soon as he returned to Sarah's room, he dialed the number.

The call tone rang... once, twice, five times.

No answer.

Ronan clenched his jaw. He tried again, but still no response.

His mind began to fill with a mix of anger and something he hated to admit-worry.

"Where did that woman go at this hour?" he muttered under his breath.

He threw the phone onto the bed, then grabbed it again roughly.

This time, he typed a message in all capital letters.

"WHERE ARE YOU?"

"COME HOME. NOW."

The message was sent, and the screen showed that it was delivered.

But an hour passed, and there was still no sign of it being read.

Ronan stared at his phone, his face tense. Every second that passed made his blood boil even more. He gripped the phone so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

There was nothing Ronan Vexler hated more than being ignored. And tonight, the wife he always thought was obedient had dared to ignore him.

"How dare you ignore me, Sarah..." he whispered coldly, his voice filled with barely restrained fury.

He cursed under his breath and threw the phone back onto the bed.

"When you get home, I swear you'll regret this," he growled. "I'll make sure of it."

He began pacing back and forth in the room, his mind full of suspicion. Where could she have gone this late?

To her family's house?

No. Sarah would never dare return to the Langford residence. He knew that she hated the scornful looks from her family.

Then where?

Ronan frowned, his thoughts turning to a darker possibility. Did Sarah have another man?

Was she dating someone tonight?

His jaw tightened, and his eyes gleamed dangerously. But a moment later, he brushed the thought away with a bitter laugh.

"Impossible," he muttered with a scoff. "Sarah isn't that brave."

He sat back on the edge of the bed, staring blankly at the silent phone.

"You're too stupid and weak to cheat," he said quietly, half mocking.

"Besides, what kind of man would even want a woman like you?"

A crooked smile formed on his lips. "A pathetic drama queen. Fragile and pitiful."

Ronan leaned back against the headboard, staring at the ceiling as his eyelids grew heavy.

But before he drifted to sleep, one thought crossed his mind-a faint, uneasy feeling he couldn't shake off.

 And that night, Sarah did not come home. It was the first time in six years of their marriage that she stayed out all night.