HAZEL POV:

I was a prisoner in my own room. The next day, Jodie appeared in the doorway, a vision of false sympathy. "Hazel, I'm so sorry," she began, her voice soft and cloying. "This is all my fault. Grandpa Bertrand loves you so much, he must be heartbroken."

Her words were carefully chosen daggers. I glanced up, my eyes meeting hers, and I let the mask of politeness fall away for just a second. I let her see the ice in my gaze.

"You should never have used my parents to threaten me, Jodie."

Her victim act kicked in instantly. Her eyes welled with tears, her lip trembled. "How could you say that?" she whimpered.

Right on cue, Carter stormed in. "What are you doing to her?" he snarled, rushing to Jodie's side and pulling her behind him as if protecting her from a monster.

"Carter, it's not Hazel's fault," Jodie sobbed into his chest. "I just wanted to apologize."

"She's always been like this!" Carter said, glaring at me. "Aggressive and cruel."

I looked at their intertwined hands and a bitter, self-mocking laugh escaped my lips.

Carter had the grace to look guilty. He dropped Jodie's hand. "I'm just trying to look out for you, Hazel," he said, the lie tasting like ash in the air.

Suddenly, a fire alarm blared through the house. Smoke began to pour from under the door of the west wing library.

"Fire!" Jodie gasped.

I jumped up, running for the hallway. Carter grabbed Jodie and ran in the opposite direction, toward the main exit. He didn't even glance back.

I raced towards the library. I knew my brother Gary's old journals were in there, the only things I had left of him. The smoke was thick, choking me. I found the journals, clutching them to my chest, and ran for the door.

It was locked from the outside.

My blood ran cold. Carter and Jodie were the only ones who had gone that way. They had locked me in. They were trying to kill me.

Panic seized me, but I fought it down. I remembered a small service door in the back. I ran, my lungs burning, and threw my shoulder against it. It burst open, and I stumbled out into the night, collapsing on the grass, gasping for air.

It took me half an hour to make my way back to the front of the house. Bertrand was standing there, his face grim, watching the fire consume the library.

"Carter told me you went in to get something and knocked over a lamp," he said, his voice laced with suspicion.

I looked past him. Carter was there, his arm wrapped protectively around Jodie, his eyes fixed on her.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and just shook my head, too weary to fight anymore.

Just then, two police cars screamed up the driveway. Officers rushed out and came straight for me.

Before I could process what was happening, one of them snapped a pair of handcuffs on my wrists. "Hazel Finley, you're under arrest for using your art gallery business for money laundering and wire fraud."

My face went pale. Money laundering? I remembered Jodie asking to "borrow" my gallery's online payment portal months ago, to sell a few pieces for a "friend." Carter had been there. He had smiled and said, "Let her, Hazel. It's for a good cause."

I had let her. Another act of trust, another betrayal.

"It wasn't me!" I screamed, my eyes locking on Carter. "It was her!"

But no one was listening. All eyes were on Bertrand, who had clutched his chest, his face turning a deathly gray as he collapsed from the shock.

I was dragged away. I spent a day and a night in a cold interrogation room. When they finally let me go, I stumbled out of the police station into a nightmare.

A mob of reporters swarmed me, their cameras flashing like lightning, their questions like blows.

"Mrs. Hancock, is it true you've been selling forgeries?"

"How could you bring such shame to the Hancock name?"

Then, someone threw a milkshake. It splattered against my face, cold and sticky. The crowd laughed. I tried to speak, to defend myself, but only a choked, gagging sound came out.

I felt my knees buckle. Just as I was about to fall, a black car pulled up and Carter emerged, flanked by bodyguards. He pushed through the crowd, his face a perfect mask of concern. He gently wiped the filth from my face with a silk handkerchief.

"I'm so sorry, Hazel," he whispered, his voice full of fake remorse. "I came as soon as I heard."

I knew he was lying. I had seen his car parked across the street the whole time. He had watched. He wanted me broken, humiliated, so I would be easier to control.

The legal troubles disappeared, but my reputation was destroyed. That night, I walked past the study. The door was ajar. I looked.

Carter was kissing Jodie, his hands tangled in her hair.

"I only love you," he was whispering against her lips. "Being with her is just a task. An obligation. Do you know how much I hate it? After I touch her, I have to shower three times to wash the feeling of her off my skin."

Jodie made a soft, whimpering sound of pleasure.

A bitter acid rose in my throat. I stumbled back, my hand knocking a vase off a pedestal. It shattered on the floor.

The sounds inside the study stopped instantly.

"Who's there?" Carter's voice was sharp, cold as ice.

HAZEL POV:

The door swung open. Carter's eyes, cold and sharp, scanned the empty hallway. A stray cat, startled by the noise, darted out from behind a curtain and fled.

He relaxed, a sigh of relief escaping his lips. He closed the study door, and the soft sounds of their intimacy resumed.

I was pressed flat against the wall in the shadows, my heart hammering against my ribs.

Back in my room, I stared at the piles of things I had bought for us. Matching coffee mugs he never used. A set of cashmere sweaters he never wore. A framed photo from our wedding that sat on my nightstand, not his.

Each item was a monument to my foolishness.

Without another thought, I started grabbing them. I stuffed everything into black trash bags—the mugs, the sweaters, the photo.

I dragged the heavy bags to the front door just as Carter was leaving. He was dressed in a sharp suit.

His eyes fell on the trash bags, then on the corner of the picture frame sticking out. "What's all this?" he asked.

"They're old," I said, my voice empty. "I'm throwing them out."

He didn't press the issue. His attention had already shifted. Jodie was coming down the stairs, dressed in a stunning new dress.

"Ready for your reunion, darling?" Carter asked her, his lips curving into a genuine smile. He was taking her to her college reunion.

He turned to me as an afterthought. "I'll bring you back some dessert."

I watched them walk out the door, side by side, a perfect couple.

Later that night, Jodie's Instagram lit up. Photos of her and Carter at a fancy restaurant. A picture of their hands intertwined, a huge diamond winking on her finger. A video of them slow-dancing. The caption read: "The best date a girl could ask for."

My phone rang. It was the police.

When I arrived at the station, it was to a scene of chaos. Carter was there, his face bruised, shouting at a well-dressed man.

Jodie ran to me, her face streaked with tears. "Hazel, thank god you're here! You have to bail him out! That man was saying horrible things about me at the reunion, and Carter... Carter just stood up for me."

The other man scoffed. "I just made a couple of jokes! He acts like I tried to sleep with his wife. Oh, wait, you're his wife," he said, looking at me. "My mistake."

After I posted his bail, Carter went to get the car. Jodie stood beside me, not-so-subtly flashing the diamond ring.

"Carter gave it to me," she said, her voice smug. "Just to wear tonight, you know."

I didn't bother calling her out on the lie. As we stood there, a dark van screeched to a halt beside us. Two masked men jumped out. One grabbed me, pressing the cold, flat blade of a knife against my neck.

"Carter Hancock ruined my life!" the man snarled. "Now he's going to know what it feels like to lose the one he loves."

Jodie screamed. Then, her eyes met mine, and a cold, calculating look passed over her face.

"Wait!" she cried, pointing at me. "Take her! She's the one he loves! I'm just his sister-in-law! He would do anything for her!"

The man's grip on me tightened. Just then, Carter came running around the corner.

"Don't hurt her!" he yelled.

"Carter, tell him!" Jodie shrieked. "Tell him she's the one you love! Tell him you'll do anything to save her!"

He looked at me, his eyes wide with panic. He knew what Jodie was doing. She was making him choose.

"It's true!" Carter shouted, his voice strained. "She... she's my wife. She's everything to me. Let her go. Take me instead."

The kidnapper hesitated.

"I love her!" Carter yelled, his voice cracking with a desperate, false sincerity.

The man seemed convinced. He shoved me towards the nearby riverbank. "If you love her so much, let's see you watch her die!"

He kicked me hard in the back. I stumbled, lost my balance, and plunged into the dark, icy water. The current was strong, pulling me under, filling my lungs with the cold, unforgiving river.