The pain from his betrayal was already wrecking me apart before the sound of the slap reached me,

A sharp and completely brutal crack split the air apart, and for a full heartbeat, I stood there in confusion, not understanding what had just happened.

My head snapped to the side, my vision blurred, and I stumbled back as the hot rush of pain bloomed across my face,

Did.. Did he just slap me?

My heels caught on a rug, and I nearly crashed on the floor. The room tilted around me and I had to slam my hands on the wall just to re-orient myself.

Evan didn't move to help me, nor did he apologize.

He didn't even flinch, all he did was stare at me with burning eyes and a heaving chest, and for the first time in my life, I saw him completely furious.

Behind him, Lyra curled on the couch, her fake sobs filling the air as she clutched her stomach and occasionally stopped sobbing just to groan in pain. Her friend hovered dramatically above her, her eyes widening with horror that felt fake.

But neither of them mattered, Evan did.

My ears still rung, my breath was rough, and my body hurt, but I gritted my teeth and stood up,

"Evan..." my voice as it left my lips was cracked, confused and filled with raw fury. "Y-You hit me? I am your fiancee for God's sake, and you hit me over her lies."

He took a step forward and clenched his jaw, "I will do something worse if you do not leave my home at this very moment," he hissed,

His home? The only reason I wasn't stumbling back was because there was a wall behind me. What did he mean by that? I had paid for half of this house myself, and now, it was his home?

I had already decided that I was not going to be with him anymore, but his words still made my world spin, and slowly, everything within me began to grow cold and hollow.

"What are you still doing here, you bitch?" he screamed, "GET OUT!"

I straightened, moving as slowly as I could. "Fine," I whispered as I glanced up and met his gaze, "I'll go."

He just blinked.

The rage and fury in his eyes flickered at my words, and just for a second, I could spot indecision in his gaze.

But I was not waiting for him to come to his senses. Evan was a lost cause, and I would have to learn to live with that.

I turned away from him before he could see the tears already beginning to streak down my face. I refused to let him see me collapse, not now, never again.

My feet carried me down the hallway on autopilot, and while I was walking, I could hear Lyra still wailing, and Evan caring for her.

With a pained smile, I pushed them out of my mind and walked towards my room. My cheeks throbbed with every pulse, and it felt like Evan's slap had left a brand on my face.

I reached the bedroom and immediately went to work, with a grunt, I yanked open the wardrobe and began to pack my things. Clothes, shoes, accessories – all of them on the floor, like trash.

I grabbed my suitcase from under the bed and started shoving my clothes inside, not bothering to fold, nor sort them. I just packed my things in complete and desperate silence.

Every single breath I took was rough, and along with the roughness came the pain, not a physical one, but an emotional one.

I zipped my suitcase with a grunt and stood up to my full height. With trembling hands, I snatched up my phone, my charger, my pox of jewelry, placed everything in another smaller suitcase, and began to drag all of these things out of the door.

I let out a sigh of relief when I reached the living room door, and neither Lyra nor Evan was there.

I stretched out my hand to turn the doorknob and walk out, when a swift and fast shadow moved into my path.

Lyra.

She stood there with her arms crossed and a wide smirk on her face. Her hand still rested protectively over her stomach, and her entire expression oozed of nothing more than triumph.

She knew she had won, and she was here to gloat.

"Well, well, well," she purred, leaning her shoulders on the door frame, "Running away already? Wow, you really are a weak bitch," she hissed, "And here's me thinking you were going to put up more of a fight."

I kept my gaze forward, gripping my suitcase tighter-my knuckles throbbed, and my jaw stung where Evan's key-clenched fist had left a cut, blood trickling down my neck. The metallic taste burned in my mouth, fueling the rage simmering inside me. "Move."I kept my gaze forward and adjusted my grip on my suitcase.

Lyra sneered, then took a lazy step towards me. "Aw, sweetheart," she smiled, "I can't believe you are actually trying to be strong now. Cute, really. Too bad it's all for show."

"Move," this time, I repeated the question through gritted teeth.

"Or what?" Lyra stretched into a cruel, triumphant grin, and she stepped directly into my path, chest puffed out like she was daring me to strike. Her sneer grew longer, and she once again blocked my path.

This time, I was done playing games with her.

With a soft grunt, I raised up my smaller suitcase-not with a weak swing, but with every ounce of pent-up fury, and slammed it into her smug.

The crack that split the air was satisfying. It was a wet, meaty crunch that made her eyes fly wide. Lyra's scream was shrill, a yelp of shock and pain, as she stumbled backward, hands flying to her face. I didn't let her catch her breath. I dropped the suitcase hard, the wheels skittering on the floor, and lunged at her with flying fists, every punch aimed at the places that had hurt me. My knuckles connected with her cheek, her shoulder and even her ribs. The sound of the smack cracked the air and Lyra screamed as she fell on the floor.

She crumpled to the floor like a rag doll, her cries turning to whimpers as she curled into a ball, blood trickling from her split lips.

I leaned down slightly, my gaze sharp, letting each word hit like a threat. "You and Evan? You'll find out soon enough. The cost of bullying me isn't just a split lip or a black eye. It's far, far more devastating, and you'll both pay for it in full."

Her eyes blurred with tears, fat and ugly, streaking down her mascara-smeared cheeks. I could hear shouts erupting from inside the house. Evan's voice, high and panicked, calling her name, but I didn't care. I didn't spare Lyra another glance, didn't let her whimpers or her sniveling guilt-trips worm their way into my head. I grabbed my suitcase, wrenched the front door open, and slammed it shut behind me so hard the walls shook.

The cold, icy night air bit into my skin the moment the door shut behind me.

For a while, I did nothing else but stand there on the porch with my suitcase held tightly in my hands. My body trembled violently, whether from the pain in my cheek, or the sheer adrenaline rushing through my body, I didn't know, and right then, I honestly did not care.

All I knew was the simple and final fact that I was done.

With Evan, with love, and with relationships.

My vision blurred as I forced myself down the steps. It took me only a couple of seconds to reach my car, throw my suitcase into the backseat, and start the engine.

That last part was the hardest. My hands were trembling, and it took a few tries for me to be able to turn the key. The engine turned to life, and my love collapsed along with it.

I drove,

Somewhere, anywhere.

It didn't matter. I had no plan, no thoughts, no destination, just a desire to be free. It was only when I began to recognize the streets I was driving through that I realized where I was heading.

Home.

My parents' house appeared at the end of the quiet street.

I blinked through the tears falling down my eyes as I drove into their driveway. I still had not called them, and I had no idea how I was going to be received, but right now, they were the only family I had.

The porch light turned on, and the moment I opened my car door, I spotted my mother standing outside the home, her arms folded and her expression stern.

"Vera dear," she whispered, her tone filled with concern and fear, not anger like I had expected, "Is that you, honey?"

That was all it took,

Her soft tone and her warm motherly smile were more than enough to break the dam I had built up.

I cried harder than I had ever had,

"Oh sweetheart..." My mum rushed towards me and pulled me into a warm big hug, "What did he do? What happened? Are you hurt?"

I couldn't answer, my tears clouded my vision and all I could do was hug her tighter,

From behind her, I could see the visage of my dad appearing behind the door.

His usually stern gaze softened the moment he saw me. I expected him to shout, to scream at me or something, but he only frowned and stepped aside.

"Get her inside," he murmured, then before I could blink, he stepped forward and took my suitcase from my hand, "It's late,"

I leaned heavily on my mother as she guided me into my former bedroom. I collapsed on the bed and watched as my mother sat beside me and gently brushed back my hair.

"You are safe now, honey," she whispered,

And with those words, I fell asleep and, for the first time in a long time, I felt warmth.

***

It had been a week since that night, and morning still came too fast for me.

The heavy light filtering through the satin curtains were too bright for my eyes. My body ached, my eyes still felt puffy from all the crying, and my heart still felt strained.

When I finally blinked awake, there were two shadows hovering over my bed,

My dad and mum.

"Morning," Collins, my dad, smiled as he glanced down at me,

Rose Varon, the woman who had birthed me, hovered closer and pressed the back of her hand to my neck, "How are you feeling?"

"Like I died and woke up in hell," I murmured as I sat up and stifled a groan,

My mom did not accept that answer. "Nope," she shook her head, "We are not doing this again. You are not going to spend another day sulking under the bedsheets."

"I wasn't sulking," I whispered,

"You were," my dad replied, and that shut me up.

"Get ready," Rose said with a bright grin that sent shivers running down my spine,

I froze,

"Why?" I grumble, "You know I don't want to,"

"I know baby," my mother whispered, "But you need to get up and put Evan out of your mind, he has chosen his place. Now, you need to choose yours. You are beautiful, young and smart. You don't need to wallow in pain crying about a man who does not care about you."

I stared into my mom's eyes and offered her the warmest smile I possibly could, "I know mom, I really do," I whispered, hugging myself, "But my heart still hurts."

"And I have the perfect remedy for that," Rose said with a smile, shifting closer to me, "I believe you need to move on,"

"How?" I asked, frowning,

"Have you thought about a date?" Rose asked,

I froze, and the world went still around me, "A... a date?"

I had just gotten out of a relationship that had shattered me, and now my mom wanted me to go on a date? I did not have the strength for that.

But Rose was relentless. "Think about it love," she continued, "Even if it's just for fun, it is at least going to give you something to do and think about."

I let out a sigh, and nodded, "Okay, I'll think about it." I paused, a suspicious feeling rising within me, "Don't tell me you have already found a date?"

"Yes," Rose answered with a smile, "It's this afternoon, and it is with an amazing guy."

She didn't even wait for my reply before picking up a dress and showing it to me, "Don't worry honey, I'll dress you,"

I shifted away from my traitorous mom on sheer instinct, "Uh... can I say no?" I asked, "This is just too soon."

"Oh, you're ready," My mom smiled, "Trust me,"

I turned to face my dad, who promptly found one of the posters on the wall very interesting.

My stomach twisted as I let out a sigh and nodded at mom, "Who is he?"

My mom smiled wickedly, like she had been waiting for me to ask that exact question, ---

"His name is Sylas Gold," she whispered,

And I froze in disbelief.

I stopped walking the moment I entered the restaurant. For a brief moment, I debated turning around and immediately walking out.

The place was... intimidating. It was huge, had glowing crystal chandeliers, and the marble floors were so polished, it looked like glass.

The air of the restaurant smelled faintly of spices and perfume, and every single table was occupied with people who looked as though they belonged here.

I, on the other hand, felt like an impostor and an intruder.

I let out a sigh, and began walking forward, since I was already here, I had no choice but to at least see this through. My heels clicked too loudly as I walked forward.

This was a mistake. I knew it, but mom was persistent and, since she claims it was just dinner, I had no choice but to go through with it.

"Right, just dinner." I muttered under my breath as I shook my head, and scanned the room, searching for my date. I had no idea what he looked like, all I had was a name and the fact that he was very, very successful.

A server smiled politely as he walked past. I forced a return smile, but my stomach was already twisting.

That was when I spotted him.

He was seated near the far windows, his right arm was draped casually over the back of his chair, and his posture was relaxed in a way that screamed effortless. He wore a tailored grey suit and had a glass of whiskey resting loosely in his hand.

And his eyes – they were already on me.

The world seemed to tilt around me as I stared blankly at him.

No, this wasn't possible.

My date couldn't be him.

My steps slowed, and my heart began to pound faster as recognition settled within me.

Sylas Gold,

The same Sylas who used to walk me home after night class and made terrible jokes back in college. The same Sylas who was my very first love.

He had been my first in everything, and he had also been my first heartbreak.

This was the same Sylas who had disappeared from my life shortly after breaking up with me.

He rose to his feet the moment I met his gaze, and when he smiled,

Lord, I forgot how to breathe.

"Vera," he whispered, his voice both warm and smooth, as it carried across the entire restaurant,

I stopped just a few feet away from him, still stunned, "Sylas?"

He laughed softly, and it was a sound that sent shivers running down my spine, "You look pale," he said, a note of concern flashing through his face,

"I - " I swallowed and looked down, "You are just the last person I had expected to see,"

"I get that a lot," he said with a warm smile, "But damm, is it good to see you, it's been ages, hasn't it?"

Heat rushed to my cheeks as I glanced away. I hated that my body still remembered him and his touch so vividly.

He gestured towards the chair right in front of him, "Please sit,"

I huffed out a breath, and with slightly trembling legs, I smoothed my dress and sat down, "So," I carefully said, "You are my date?"

Sylas smirked, "It does appear so,"

I shook my head, still stunned, "How?" I gasped, "My mom set me up with you?"

"She did," he nodded, "And before you ask – yes, she knew exactly who I was and what our relationship was back then."

Of course, she did. I had told mom about him, but that was ages ago, and I thought she had forgotten.

Silence settled between us, it was thick and filled with so many unanswered questions.

Sylas openly studied me, "You look great, Vera," he said quietly, "You always did, of course, but you've changed."

"So have you," I replied before I could stop myself,

His lips curled upwards, "Hopefully for the better?"

I hesitated, then nodded, my heart did a little flip as his smile widened.

Finally, I let out a sigh and asked what had been on my lips since I spotted him, "Why now?" I asked, "Why after all these years?"

His expression shifted, it was just slightly, but it was intense and noticeable enough that I immediately grew tense.

"I never stopped thinking about you," he answered, "College ended, and I had to leave early in order to take over my father's company. And by the time I had the freedom to look back –" he shrugged, "You were already gone,"

I swallowed and met his gaze, "You could have reached out,"

"I should have," he nodded, "And honestly, that's on me."

The honesty in his tone completely disarmed me, and I let out a sigh.

"Maybe this really could work." I thought as I watched him call for the waiter,

The waiter took our orders and Sylas leaned back on his chair and studied me with an intensity that made my pulse race faster.

"You know," he said, "I didn't agree to this date just because your mother was persistent."

I raised a brow, "Then, why?"

"I did it," he paused, and looked into my eyes, "Because I need a wife."

The words landed hard, like a punch to my chest.

"I'm sorry-what?"

He didn't flinch, "It would be a contractual marriage. Mutually beneficial with no illusions."

I stared at him as though he had just grown an extra head, because honestly, that would have made more sense. "You can't be serious,"

"I am," he answered, "My company's board is pushing for stability, and they believe that a wife would make the company seem more stable. I do not have time for emotional entanglements or political scandals."

"You think I'm going to agree to this?" I asked, still incredulous,

His gaze softened, "I hope so," he answered, "You are the only person I trust enough to ask,"

I laughed, it was sharp and disbelieving, "You think I'll just sign my life away?"

"No," he said quietly, "I think you'd consider it, because you are practical, and you know this could change everything for you."

Silence stretched between us, I was still too shocked to even move.

He leaned forward and lowered his voice, "It wouldn't be a real marriage anyway," he said, "There would be boundaries, and we would both have our separate lives. The only thing I would need are public appearances. And when the contract ends, we both cleanly walk away – no strings attached."

"And what do I get out of this?" I asked,

"Security and freedom," he answered as a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips, "Also, you will get a chance to never be powerless again in your life."

The words settled deep in my heart.

I thought of the fact that I now lived in my parent's home, the fact that I had probably lost my job after not showing up to work for days. Then, I thought about the way my life has always felt like I was being led along instead of living the life I should.

This was an actual chance to have a change in the monotony of my life.

The waiter returned with our food but neither of us touched our plates. I stared at Sylas and realized that this was insane.

Yet -

I took a deep breath, and nodded,

"Alright," I said quietly, "Let's get married."