Rowan

"What are you about to do, Channel?" I barked, my voice rough with panic as I lunged forward and grabbed her by the waist, locking her in place before she could take that final step.

The sight of her standing at the edge of the bridge, ready to throw herself into the emptiness below, had sent my heart straight into my throat. Fear-raw, suffocating fear-gripped me so tightly I could barely breathe. When she refused to turn back, when she acted as though she couldn't hear me, I had no choice but to beg.

"Channel, please... get down from there. It's me-Rowan, your husband. I'm here to take you home." My voice cracked, betraying the storm inside me. "I believe you, Channel... just don't jump."

But she had lifted one leg, ready to step into nothingness, ignoring every word.

My entire body went rigid. My hands trembled uncontrollably, and before I could stop myself, I dropped to my knees right there on the bridge. People had gathered, watching, whispering, but I didn't care. Nothing mattered except her.

"Channel, please... don't do this." My hands pressed together as if in prayer. "I'll take you back. I'll bring you home. Just don't leave me like this. Don't leave me alone in this world... please."

My eyes burned red, my chest tightening with every passing second. The thought of watching her die-right in front of me-was unbearable. If she jumped... if she really did it...

I wouldn't survive the guilt.

Because deep down, I knew I had pushed her to this edge.

I had stripped her of everything-her dignity, her security, her place in my life-even when I knew she had nowhere else to go.

Her father was mentally unstable, locked away in a hospital with nothing to his name. Channel had always been alone, fighting life with bare hands. I still remember the first time I saw her-standing behind the counter of a small coffee shop, a tired but genuine smile on her face. She was twenty.

And I fell for her instantly.

My family hated her. To them, she was nothing-no status, no background, no value. They couldn't understand why I chose her. But I didn't care. At twenty-three, I was already the heir to Reynold's Group. At twenty-four, I married her.

I had everything-wealth, power, looks. I was the man every woman dreamed of. And yet, I chose Channel.

Everyone said she was lucky.

So what went wrong?

I gave her everything. Even when she couldn't give me a child, I never complained. I took care of her father, making sure he lacked nothing. I gave her cars and houses-two mansions-on her birthdays alone. My black card was hers to use without limits. We traveled, laughed... I stayed by her side.

Wasn't that enough?

Why did she still look elsewhere?

Why did she destroy everything we had and make me a fool in front of my own family?

"Fuck..." The curse slipped out, heavy with pain. My chest ached with a bitterness I couldn't contain.

I loved her. That was the truth.

And maybe that was my biggest weakness.

My family believed she had bewitched me, that no sane man would love her the way I did. They warned me-again and again-that she belonged to the slums and would one day return there.

I refused to listen.

She was a cheerful and beautiful lady.

She had male friends-too many, if I was being honest-but she told me they were harmless. She told me she had never been with any man before me.

I believed her.

Even when I saw her wrapped in another man's arms at that same coffee shop, I ignored the discomfort gnawing at me. Even when she spent nights away for "birthdays" and "reunions," I let it slide.

Love made me blind.

And now?

Now I looked back and saw every sign I had ignored.

Every lie I had swallowed.

It was almost laughable. A man like me-smart, powerful-reduced to a fool for three and a half years.

And the truth hit harder than anything else.

The hospital visits. The silent treatments. The excuses.

Abortions.

That was why she couldn't give me a child.

That was why everything never made sense.

My sister had been right all along.

My mother too.

As I laid her unconscious body on the bed after dragging her away from death, I stepped back and stared at her.

Something inside me shifted.

The love... twisted.

My fists clenched, veins tightening beneath my skin as anger surged through me. She looked fragile, innocent even, with tear stains marking her cheeks.

But I knew better now.

That face... that soft, helpless expression...

It was all an act.

A perfect lie.

A calculated performance.

She wanted to die so people would blame me. So I would carry the weight of her death forever.

But she failed.

And I wouldn't let her win.

I needed my hundred million dollars.

I knew she didn't have it. I had made sure of that. She had nothing left, no one to turn to. It was simple-pay or go to jail.

But prison wouldn't satisfy me.

No... I wanted more.

I wanted her to feel everything she had made me feel.

Slowly.

Painfully.

And if she couldn't pay... then she would repay me in another way.

My thoughts were interrupted when she stirred, a soft groan escaping her lips. She shifted on the bed, her brows furrowing like she was trapped in a nightmare.

After a while, she opened her eyes-only to shut them again as sunlight streamed through the curtains.

I didn't move.

I stood there, watching her like a predator watching its prey.

Waiting.

Finally, her eyes opened again, scanning the room before landing on me.

Confusion flashed across her face.

"What am I doing here, Rowan?" she asked.

A bitter smile tugged at my lips.

"What are you doing in your husband's house?" I shot back coldly. "Or would you rather be in one of your sugar daddies' homes?"

Her expression hardened instantly.

"You're no longer my husband," she said, her voice low but steady. "You divorced me. You threw me out. Why didn't you just let me die? Do you want to kill me yourself?"

For a split second, something flickered inside me.

Pity.

But it was quickly swallowed by the storm raging within me.

"Yes, I divorced you," I replied, my tone turning dangerously calm. "But that doesn't mean you're free. You still owe me. And until that debt is paid... you belong to me."

Her eyes flashed with anger.

"How do you expect me to pay you if you keep me here?" she snapped. "Where do you think I'll get a hundred million dollars?"

A slow, chilling smile spread across my face.

"There's only one way," I said, my voice dropping to something darker.

Her breath hitched.

I leaned slightly closer, my gaze locking onto hers.

"By becoming my slave completely."

Channel

"Tsk." I let out a dry, mocking chuckle, shaking my head slowly, pitying his foolishness. Did he really think I would sink that low-crawl beneath him-just because I was desperate?

"I'd rather rot in jail than agree to become your maid and live under your feet." I scoffed, fixing Rowan with a piercing, unyielding glare.

He tilted his head back slightly, surprise flickering across his face. Was he truly shocked that I dared to talk back?

"Woah, Channel." His lips curled in disdain. "Not only are you a whore, but now you've grown bold enough to challenge me?"

"Mind your damn words." My voice trembled with rage. "I am not a whore. Let me go this instant so I can find your money!"

Each time that word left his mouth, it felt like shards of glass tearing through my chest. I was reaching my limit.

"Fine." His tone dropped, cold and venomous. "Go get the money the way you're used to-by spreading your legs for men. You have until next week. Fail, and I won't hesitate to throw you in jail."

"You're not the judge." I snapped immediately, anger bubbling over. "The court gave me two weeks, not one. I'll bring your money when I have it."

I pushed myself off the bed, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing me break, and strode toward the door.

"And thanks for the advice," I added, forcing a bright, fake smile as I glanced back at him. "I'll make sure to sleep with thousands of men and bring you double your compensation."

The way his face flushed crimson with fury sent a strange sense of victory through me. Without waiting for his response, I walked out of Rowan's mansion, my steps firm-even though everything inside me was crumbling.

---

"Argh!" I screamed, frustration ripping out of my chest.

My hands clutched the back of my neck as my legs gave out beneath me, and I collapsed onto the soft grass in the park.

I had wandered through almost every street in New York, searching-begging-for even the smallest job. Anything. Just enough to get food and a place to sleep for the night.

But every door had been shut in my face.

And I knew why.

Rowan Reynolds.

His name alone carried weight-power, wealth... and fear.

The Reynolds family wasn't just rich; they were untouchable. Proud to a fault. They didn't associate with people beneath their class, and I had been the greatest stain on their perfect image.

A poor girl who somehow caught Rowan's attention.

Rachel and her mother never let me forget it.

Their insults. Their humiliation. Their constant reminders that I didn't belong.

And when I couldn't give Rowan a child...

That was the final blow.

My chest tightened painfully as anger surged through me again.

Rowan was no different from them. Not anymore. The man I once knew-the man who had looked at me with warmth-was gone.

In his place stood someone cold... cruel... unrecognisable.

I let out a bitter laugh that quickly dissolved into silence.

I couldn't even apply to proper jobs. No CV. No qualifications. Nothing.

Just a high school certificate and a life that had already fallen apart before it even began-thanks to my father's illness.

The sun burned mercilessly against my skin, making my head spin. I stumbled toward a shaded corner of the park, but my vision blurred before I could even settle properly.

My body gave out.

I collapsed onto the damp grass, my eyes squeezing shut as a violent tremor ran through me.

I hadn't eaten all day.

Only water.

Just water... given to me by the same man who now wanted to destroy me.

Lying there, breathing shallow, my thoughts spiraled out of control.

Tears slipped down my temples, soaking into the grass beneath me.

I cried.

For myself.

For the child growing inside me.

For the man Rowan used to be... and the monster he had become.

"A hundred million dollars..."

The number echoed endlessly in my head, suffocating me.

"Why am I even thinking about it?" I whispered brokenly. "Where am I supposed to get that kind of money?"

A sob tore through me, louder this time, raw and unrestrained. I didn't care who heard.

I stayed like that for what felt like forever-lost, broken, drowning in hopelessness.

There were only two paths ahead of me.

Death...

Or prison.

And neither offered escape.

"Hey. Get up."

A deep, rough voice cut through my thoughts.

Before I could react, a sharp kick landed against my side.

Pain shot through me.

"What the-?" I groaned inwardly, irritation flaring as I forced my eyes open. Who the hell was this idiot?

Still clutching my side, I looked up-

And froze.

A man stood over me.

Tall. Imposing.

Starting from his polished white loafers, my gaze trailed upward-tight black jeans outlining long, powerful legs, a navy-blue turtleneck hugging his frame, and a crisp white designer coat draped effortlessly over his shoulders.

Gold gleamed on his wrist-an expensive watch accompanied by stacked bracelets. His fingers were adorned with rings of different metals, each one catching the sunlight.

His presence screamed wealth.

Power.

Control.

His hair was styled in a soft Afro, curls defined perfectly. His beard was neatly groomed, framing sharp features-long jawline, striking eyes, and thin, red lips that held no warmth.

He was... breathtaking.

Dangerously so.

"Gosh..." My mind whispered in stunned disbelief.

For a moment, everything else faded-my pain, my hunger, my despair.

Even my heartbeat seemed to skip.

"Wh-" My lips parted, but no words came out. My tongue felt heavy, useless.

Pathetic.

His eyes narrowed slightly, impatience flickering through them. With a slow, deliberate movement, he slid both hands into his coat pockets, stretching one leg forward casually.

There was something unsettling about how composed he was.

How detached.

"Let's skip introductions," he said, his voice smooth but cold. "We don't know each other, and that's not important."

His gaze locked onto mine-sharp, assessing.

"Why are you here?" I managed to ask weakly, confusion clouding my thoughts.

He exhaled softly, almost as if he were bored.

Then he spoke.

And the world around me seemed to stop.

"Channel Sidney..." His voice dropped, deliberate and steady.

"Let's get married."

Channel

I blinked multiple times when I heard him say that.

"Uuh..." I finally found my lost tongue, though it felt like it didn't belong to me anymore.

"I hate repeating myself. You heard me clearly earlier; don't act like a dimwit." He growled, his sharp eyes slicing into me without mercy.

Gosh!!

I was completely taken aback.

Who the hell was this disrespectful, glittering, annoyingly confident man who walked into my breakdown like he owned the air I was breathing and started talking about marriage like it was a business transaction?

"Are you in-"

He raised his hand midair, cutting me off effortlessly.

"Get married to me in exchange for your freedom from Rowan Reynolds." His voice dropped-cold, precise, and commanding. "I'll settle your one hundred million debt, and in return, you'll fill the position of my wife for two years."

He spoke fast, like a man who had already decided everything long before I ever existed in the conversation.

His eyes never left my face-not even for a second.

And that foot of his... it kept tapping against the grass impatiently, like patience itself was something he didn't believe in.

I frowned.

Who exactly did he think he was?

"I don't even know you," I snapped, pushing myself to my feet. "Who the hell are you?"

"Your new husband." He said it flatly, like it was already written in law. Then he tossed a stack of documents and a pen onto the grass. "Sign them. We're leaving."

That was it.

That was the moment something inside me snapped.

I laughed, sharp and bitter, dragging my fingers through my messy hair. "Are you okay? Did you escape from somewhere– a mental hospital, maybe? Which sane man walks up to a stranger and commands her into marriage without pleading or proposing?

"Plead?" He scoffed. "You want me to plead?"

His eyes darkened slightly.

"I am offering you freedom, and you want me to beg?" His voice dropped lower. "Reject it, and stay chained to your debt. I'll find someone else who understands opportunity when it's placed in their hands."

Silence fell.

Heavy.

Suffocating.

I stared at him, my chest tightening, my thoughts scattering in every direction.

Freedom.

The word hit too hard.

Too painful.

Who... was this man?

"Who are you?" I whispered again, but softer this time.

"Calvin Blackwood," he replied sharply. "A man in need of a wife."

He pointed at the papers again.

"If you're not interested-"

"I'll marry you."

The words left my mouth before my brain could stop them.

My fingers trembled slightly as I dug them into my hair, my emotions colliding violently inside me.

This was insane.

Utterly insane.

But then-

Rowan.

Just his name alone was enough to tighten my chest.

His control.

His anger.

His silence that always felt louder than shouting.

I swallowed hard.

"I'll marry you," I repeated, firmer this time, like saying it twice would make it real.

I needed out.

Even if it meant jumping into another unknown fire.

Without reading a single line, I bent down and signed the papers.

One stroke.

Two strokes.

Done.

The sound of the pen scratching felt like I was sealing away the last remaining piece of my old life.

When I stood, my breathing was uneven.

"It's done," I said quickly. "We're married. I'm Channel Blackwood now. When are you settling my debt?"

For a moment, he said nothing.

Then-

A slow, unreadable smirk formed on his lips.

It wasn't warm.

It wasn't kind.

It was controlled.

Like he had just gotten exactly what he came for.

He pulled out a black card and placed it in my hand.

"It has no limit," he said. "Use it to clear your debt. Take care of yourself. For two years, you belong to this agreement."

Two years.

The number echoed in my mind longer than it should have.

Before I could ask anything else, he turned away.

"Follow me," he added. "There's a file in the car. You have two hours to memorize everything. My father does not tolerate mistakes."

-

Inside the white Rolls-Royce, my world started shifting in real time.

The air felt heavier.

Stranger.

Like I had stepped into someone else's life without permission.

The file in my hands wasn't just paper.

It was identity.

Rules. Answers. Instructions.

How to speak.

How to sit.

How to breathe around his family.

How to exist without slipping.

Each page felt like a layer of me was being rewritten.

My chest tightened.

"Why me?" I muttered under my breath.

Then, louder-

"Did Rowan send you?"

The car slowed slightly.

Calvin didn't look at me immediately.

His grip tightened on the steering wheel.

"I married you because I need you," he said coldly. "I have nothing to do with your ex-husband."

I didn't believe him.

Not fully.

"How do you know about me?"

"Search your name," he replied. "Everything is already out there."

My stomach twisted.

Of course.

The humiliation.

The headlines.

Rachel.

That name alone burned.

"Rachel..." I whispered.

My fists clenched tightly.

She didn't just ruin my marriage.

She broadcasted my ruin as entertainment.

But before the anger could fully consume me, the car slowed again.

We stopped.

I looked up.

An airport.

Private.

Quiet.

Expensive.

My breath caught in my throat.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"To my country," Calvin replied, already stepping out. "I don't stay anywhere near your ex-husband."

My pulse jumped.

"You're starting a new life," he added flatly. "With a new identity."

A new identity.

The words should have comforted me.

Instead, they felt like a warning.

I stepped out slowly, my eyes fixed on the private jet ahead.

The wind brushed against my skin, colder than I expected.

Freedom.

That was what I kept telling myself.

But it didn't feel like freedom.

It felt like a transition.

Like something I couldn't reverse.

I followed behind him, my heels clicking softly against the ground.

Each step felt louder than the last.

The jet loomed closer.

Massive.

Silent.

Waiting.

Maybe...

Just maybe...

This was the beginning of something new.

Something better.

Something-

My thoughts suddenly fractured.

A cold sensation spread across my chest.

Like something invisible had brushed against my skin.

My steps slowed without permission.

My fingers tightened slightly at my sides.

The wind shifted.

Or maybe I imagined it.

Maybe it was just fear.

Just nerves.

Just my mind catching up to reality too slowly.

I swallowed hard.

It didn't matter.

I was almost there.

Almost free.

Almost-

"Stop right there, Channel."

The voice came again.

Clearer this time.

Closer.

Too close.

My body locked instantly.

Not a single muscle obeyed me.

My heart slammed violently against my ribs, hard enough to hurt, hard enough to blur my vision for a second.

No.

No, no, no.

That voice...

It didn't belong here.

I was at an airport.

Leaving.

Escaping.

Starting over.

Rowan wasn't supposed to be part of this distance.

He was supposed to be behind me.

In the past.

Locked in everything I was trying to run from.

But that voice-

It sounded like it was right behind my ear.

Like he was standing so close I could feel his breath.

My throat went dry.

My mind began to fracture between logic and fear.

Don't turn.

If you turn, it becomes real.

If you turn, it means he's here.

But what if he's not?

What if it's just my mind breaking under pressure?

What if I'm finally losing it?

My breath turned shallow.

My fingers curled slightly as if searching for something to hold onto.

Calvin was ahead.

The jet was ahead.

Freedom was ahead.

But behind me-

That voice lingered like a shadow that refused to leave.

"Stop right there, Channel," I heard the unmistakable voice of Rowan behind me.

My entire body froze instantly; my heart began thumping violently against my chest.