ASHER

It has been a week since Emily was discharged from the hospital after her allergic reaction, yet she still hasn’t come home. It feels deliberate—as if she’s intentionally keeping her distance, wanting me to experience just how painful it is to be ignored, to be shut out.

It’s as if she’s testing my patience.

Or maybe… she truly no longer feels anything for me, just as Troy had said.

In the three years we’ve been married, Emily never once mentioned—never even threw in my face—the enormous amount of help her family gave me and the Bennett Group. She was always quiet, always standing behind me, always ready to understand even when I couldn’t find the words to explain myself.

But after she woke up in that hospital room, she suddenly forced me to face a truth I had long been avoiding. The very reason I became hostile toward her. The truth I tried so hard to bury, yet one that had been lodged in my mind for far too long.

I wasn’t wrong.

She sees me as weak.

In her eyes, I am nothing more than a man who married for money.

I know it—even if no one says it to my face. People talk behind my back. They whisper about how the Hills family saved the Bennett Group. About how Emily’s love became my capital, my lifeline, the reason I remained standing when everything else was collapsing.

Yes, Emily loved me. And I loved her too—that was a truth I never denied. But it was also something I never allowed myself to say out loud. Not to anyone. Not to Emily.

What I couldn’t bear was the idea that our marriage existed because of money.

All I wanted back then was a loan. A chance to save the company. But not a single bank believed in me. Not a single investor was willing to take a risk on the Bennett name.

Until Mr. Hills spoke.

Marriage.

A transaction in exchange for money.

I didn’t want to accept it. My pride was the only thing I had left at that point. But I was desperate. Broken. Cornered. And beyond that… I did like Emily. I always had. Since junior high school, I had seen her as someone quiet yet strong, simple yet carrying a light that set her apart.

I chose the wrong reason for the right person.

I closed my eyes, memories flooding in—moments that should have been ours. Anniversaries. Birthdays. Simple dinners I chose to miss in favor of work. Not because I didn’t want to be with her, but because I couldn’t stand the feeling of being indebted.

I wanted to repay everything her family had done for me as quickly as possible. I wanted to erase the five years of debt that eventually led to our marriage three years ago—right after she graduated from college.

Back then, I believed that once I had paid Mr. Hills in full, I’d finally have the courage to look Emily in the eye. That I could finally stand beside her without shame. That she could be proud of me, as a husband who didn’t rely on her family, as a man who could truly provide.

But even a year after settling everything, the world still saw me the same way.

To them, without Emily, the Bennett Group wouldn’t even exist.

Even now, when we are considered one of the most respected companies, I haven’t escaped the whispers and ridicule. It’s as if that debt is permanently etched into my name—an invisible stain that will never fade.

They can’t say it to my face anymore, not with the influence I hold now—not just in the city, but across the country.

My thoughts were cut short by a knock on the door.

“Come in,” I said.

The door opened, and my mother stepped inside. In an instant, my chest felt heavier. Whenever she faced me, there was always only one theme—and I already knew who it would involve.

“What do you need?” I asked, forcing my tone to remain neutral.

“Mr. Taylor’s birthday is next week,” she said bluntly as she walked closer. “You need to attend. Many influential businessmen will be there.”

“I already know,” I replied immediately. “You don’t need to remind me.”

“Bring Corrine with you,” she added casually, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “I heard she’s close to Mr. Taylor’s granddaughter.”

I pressed my fingers against my temple, massaging it slowly, trying to suppress the growing headache. “Why? You don’t like the idea?” she asked, irritation seeping into her voice.

“It’s inappropriate, Mom,” I said firmly. “I’m a married man. It’s wrong to be seen with another woman.”

She smirked, her expression dripping with mockery. “You’re only thinking about that now? How long have you been taking that bitch for granted?”

“Stop!”

My raised voice silenced her instantly. Shock flashed across her face.

“Is that how you talk about my wife?” I asked, my voice trembling but resolute.

“You raised your voice at me?” she shot back, eyes wide in disbelief.

“Yes,” I answered without hesitation. “Have you forgotten why the Bennett Group is still standing today?”

She fell silent for a moment before speaking again. “Probably because of their money. But you know you worked hard for everything. Haven’t you paid them back already? There’s no reason for you to keep treating that woman nicely.”

Her words hit me like a slap across the face.

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

My own mother, the same woman who once nearly knelt before other businessmen, who witnessed firsthand how the Hills couple treated us with dignity and restraint, was now speaking of Emily as if she were nothing more than an inconvenience.

And in that moment, I finally realized something I had been blind to for far too long.

It wasn’t just me who had hurt Emily. I had allowed others to disrespect her as well—because of my own fear, my pride, and my refusal to stand my ground.

“This is the last time you will ever speak badly about my wife,” I said, never taking my eyes off her. "Whether it’s in front of her or behind her back, you will respect Emily."

I saw her eyes narrow, but she said nothing. She knew I wasn’t bluffing.

“If I hear even a single word that you’ve done or said something against my wife,” I continued, studying her reaction carefully, making sure my message sank in, “I will make sure you regret it.”

Silence followed.

“Fine,” she finally said. “If that’s what you want. But make sure you bring Corrine. She will be very useful to you if anything happens.”

With that, my mother turned her back on me and walked out of my office.

I could only shake my head as I watched her leave. It suddenly dawned on me that Emily must have endured far more than I ever allowed myself to believe. Back then, I hadn’t taken her seriously when she said my mother treated her poorly. I dismissed it, convinced myself it couldn’t be true.

Who would think such a thing?

My mother knew how much the Hills family had helped us. I assumed that alone was enough to warrant her treating my wife with respect.

I was wrong.

Mr. Taylor’s seventieth birthday.

I should bring Emily. I needed to start taking her with me to every gathering I had to attend. I didn’t want her to think, not even for a second, that I was neglecting our marriage or hiding her existence.

With that thought in mind, I picked up the phone and called Troy. Moments later, he was standing in front of me.

“Any news on Emily?” I asked.

“Last week, she started going on morning runs,” Troy reported.

I frowned but remained silent, signaling him to continue.

“Just yesterday, she signed up for a membership to a boxing gym.”

“A boxing gym?” I asked sharply, unable to hide my surprise.

“Yes, Sir.”

“She just got out of the hospital,” I said, my concern surfacing despite myself. “Is she really okay after falling down the stairs? Won’t intense physical activity—especially something like boxing- put her at risk?”

“I believe Mrs. Bennett knows her limits,” Troy replied calmly. “And one more thing, Sir—based on what I’ve gathered, she will most likely attend Mr. Taylor’s birthday. Mr. and Mrs. Hills have received an invitation.”

I nodded, my thoughts immediately drifting back to my mother’s words.

All the more reason not to bring Corrine. I refused to add fuel to Emily’s suspicions—especially not now.

“Anything else?” I asked.

“As for Devon,” Troy continued, “we still haven’t gathered any solid information about him. However, he hasn’t approached Mrs. Bennett again since the hospital incident.”

I let out a quiet breath of relief.

“Don’t let your guard down,” I said. “Continue investigating him. It’s possible he was simply there when Emily had her allergic reaction—but the words he said at the hospital… I can’t ignore them.”

“Understood, Sir.”

Troy left shortly after, leaving me alone with my thoughts once more.

'Do you think I care about that? As long as she’s with me, I don’t care.'

Devon’s words echoed in my mind.

I was certain now, he knew Emily. And worse, he had intentions toward my wife.

And that was something I intended to uncover—no matter what it took.

NORA

“What are those?” I asked, confusion evident in my voice as I looked at Nadia, one of the long-time house helpers of the Hills family. Esmeralda and I were seated in the living room when a woman suddenly arrived, introducing herself as Amy, Asher’s secretary.

“Mrs. Bennett—” Amy said.

I lifted my gaze sharply, fixing her with a cold stare that immediately stopped her mid-sentence. The shift in my expression was enough to make her stiffen where she stood.

She cleared her throat, visibly nervous, before continuing. “Sir Asher instructed me to come here and assist you in choosing from these clothes. The stylist and a representative from the jewelry store will also be arriving later, so you can select the accessories you’ll be wearing tonight for Mr. Taylor’s birthday party.”

“I don’t need any of those. You may leave now,” I replied coolly, without even sparing the dresses a second glance.

Both Nadia and Amy froze at my words.

“B-But… Mrs. Bennett,” Amy said hesitantly, her voice trembling. “Sir Asher specifically told me to take care of everything for you. If I fail to do this, I might lose my job—”

“Why should I care?” I cut her off, one eyebrow arching sharply. “Do I look like someone who concerns herself with the fate of a person I have nothing to do with?” I added bluntly, my tone firm and unyielding.

Amy’s face paled instantly. She lowered her head slightly, her hands clenching at her sides as she struggled to keep her composure.

“Don’t call me that,” I continued coldly. “I am divorcing your employer. Address me properly—as Ms. Hills.”

“I-I’m sorry… Ms. H-Hills,” she quickly corrected herself, nodding repeatedly.

“Nora, dear,” Esmeralda interjected gently, clearly trying to ease the tension. “She’s only doing her job.”

“I know that, Mom,” I replied, finally turning my gaze away from Amy. “But if every employee Asher sends my way thinks they can use guilt or pity to manipulate me, does that mean I should spend the rest of my life being obedient and accommodating at my own expense?”

“That’s not what I meant…” Esmeralda said softly.

I took a deep breath before looking back at Amy, meeting her eyes directly. “I have nothing personal against you. But I refuse to be considerate toward others if it comes at the cost of my own peace. Tell your employer this: I will not attend the party with him. And more importantly, unless it concerns our divorce, I do not want to be contacted again.”

Amy paused for a moment, then slowly nodded. I could see understanding, perhaps even respect, in her eyes.

“I will relay everything to Mr. Bennett, Ms. Hills,” she said quietly.

“Thank you. You may go now.”

I motioned for Nadia to hand the clothes back to Amy. Without another word, Amy turned around and left.

Esmeralda and I were left alone in the living room. She stared at me intently, a mix of curiosity, concern, and quiet contemplation written all over her face. I merely shrugged and chose not to explain myself.

In nearly a month of living under the same roof, I had come to realize just how kind Rod and Esmeralda truly were. That was precisely why I didn’t want to hurt them. Why I tried to draw the line carefully, even when it involved Asher.

Four hours before the party, Esmeralda came to my room. I had already agreed to attend Mr. Taylor’s birthday celebration, not for Asher’s sake, but for my own.

Several gowns were neatly arranged on the rack. Esmeralda had personally ordered them, thoughtfully selecting each piece.

I had never been fond of gowns. But now, as Emily Hills, adaptation was inevitable. I reached for a black gown.

“Are you sure about that one, dear?” Esmeralda asked, studying both me and the dress in my hands.

“Yes,” I answered without hesitation.

“You don’t like the light blue or the soft pink anymore?”

I shook my head lightly. “I want something different this time. Sometimes, change is necessary… sometimes, you have to explore.”

And in that quiet moment, I almost smiled to myself.

Because it wasn’t just the color of the dress that was changing.

It was me.

“It’s a good thing you’ve finally realized that now,” Esmeralda said gently. “I’ve been telling you this for a long time. I wanted you to try something different, but you always chose to prioritize Asher’s happiness over your own.”

“Not anymore, Mom,” I replied firmly. “From now on, everything I do will be for myself.”

Esmeralda studied me closely, her gaze lingering as if she were trying to confirm whether what she was hearing was real. There was disbelief in her eyes, perhaps even surprise. Maybe Emily and I truly were complete opposites after all.

Even at the company, I had started noticing the strange looks the employees gave me. There was a certain hesitation, a quiet confusion, every time I spoke. Even the executives seemed taken aback, as though they were seeing a version of me they had never encountered before.

After that, Esmeralda left me alone in my room, and I began preparing myself. When it came to makeup, I wasn’t entirely clueless. I knew how to apply it—just enough.

A light application was more than sufficient. I wasn’t attending the party to be the most beautiful woman in the room. I was going there to meet people, to connect with other businessmen and influential figures. I needed and wanted to expand my network.

Once I was finished and satisfied with my appearance, I stepped out of my room. In the living area, I found Esmeralda and Rod together, waiting for me.

“Wow! You’re so beautiful, dear!” Esmeralda exclaimed, her eyes practically sparkling as she looked at me. Damn, why does she always have that endearment for me?

“She’s right,” Rod added. “This is the first time I’ve ever seen you wear a gown in that color.”

“You’d better get used to it,” I said calmly, a faint smile playing on my lips. “This is who I am now. The old me is dead, so please welcome the new Emily Hills.”

The couple fell silent for a moment, clearly taken aback. But it didn’t take long before I saw approval reflected in their expressions.

“If that’s the case,” Rod said warmly, “your mother and I are looking forward to seeing more of this side of you.”

“Be ready, Dad,” I replied confidently. “You’re about to witness how your dear daughter swallows everyone who ever stepped on me and our family.”

I meant every word. Anyone who had once belittled the old Emily would pay dearly.

The only regret was not knowing who those people were.

I wanted to find out. I wanted to investigate everything that had happened. But I didn’t want to appear too eager, too desperate for answers. Afraid that someone might notice my unusual interest and grow suspicious.

I couldn’t understand why I didn’t possess even a single memory of Emily’s past.

Was that really how it worked?

Because I was now occupying her body, did that mean I had no access to her memories at all?

If so, would consulting a doctor even help?

“Emily, dear.”

I looked up to find Esmeralda staring at me with concern. “What are you thinking about?”

I smiled before answering. “Nothing. I was just wondering what I might encounter at the party.”

“You don’t have anything to worry about,” Rod assured me. “Matt will be there. If there’s anything you want to ask, especially about the people you’ll meet, he’ll be the one who can give you answers.”

“In that case, I should get going,” I said with a smile. “I don’t want to be late. I want to see every single person who arrives at the party.”

“All right. Take care,” Esmeralda said as she stepped closer, kissing my cheek before pulling me into a warm embrace. I hugged her back—then Rod as well. After all, as Emily Hills, they were my parents now.

I turned away and walked out of the house toward the waiting car. Biboy, my driver, was already there.

Once he closed the door behind me, he circled around to the driver’s seat and started the engine.

As the car moved, my thoughts drifted once more.

I wanted to move to a different place, somewhere I could do the things I wanted without restriction, and begin executing my plans.

Somewhere I could finally introduce myself to Dante…

as the new Nora Dumont.

 ASHER

As I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the cuffs of my suit, Amy’s words echoed relentlessly in my mind. My secretary’s voice—calm, professional, yet hesitant kept replaying, refusing to fade even as I forced myself to focus on my reflection.

I had sent her to the Hills residence earlier today. The instruction was simple, almost harmless: deliver everything Emily would need for Mr. Taylor’s birthday party. Dresses. Jewelry. A quiet reminder that… I was still her husband.

But Emily had refused.

“Unless it was about our divorce, don’t bother coming to me.”

That was exactly what she said. No raised voice. No unnecessary drama. Just a straightforward statement—clean, precise, and far more painful than any slap could ever be.

My jaw tightened as the memory resurfaced. I never imagined Emily was capable of that kind of firmness. For years, I had known her as calm and rational, someone who always chose her words carefully. She had never been cruel with her honesty. Never sharp. Never deliberately hurtful. She's the most sensible woman I know.

Until that day.

Until the hospital incident.

She had been furious. Her eyes—once filled with patience and understanding were now blazing with anger and disappointment. She didn’t look like Emily at all. Or perhaps… this was the first time I was truly seeing her.

I took a deep breath and stared at my reflection again. My suit was flawless. No wrinkles. No cracks in the armor. No visible signs of weakness.

I needed to look good.

I needed to look whole.

I knew Emily would attend Mr. Taylor’s birthday party. Whether it was because of her family or out of obligation, I was certain she would be there, standing proudly as the new CEO of Hills Pharma. And if our paths crossed tonight, I wanted her to see one thing clearly: I was determined to bring her back to my side.

I walked toward the door, but before I could leave the room, I stopped.

My gaze drifted toward the bed.

Our bed.

Three years. For three long years, we slept side by side on that mattress—together, yet always separated by an invisible distance.

Why?

Because of me, I chose to give her the cold shoulder, driven by the belief that I was a failure.

Because I convinced myself that people saw me as a weak man—someone who needed a woman to succeed.

I shook my head, refusing to dwell on it any longer. Turning my back on the memories, I walked out of the room, down the stairs, and out of the house toward the waiting car.

When I arrived at the hotel where Mr. Taylor’s birthday party was being held, my eyes immediately scanned the room. Familiar faces. Polite smiles laced with calculation. Hands eager to shake as long as there was something to gain.

But there was only one person I was searching for.

Emily.

A frown creased my face when I failed to find her. My chest tightened, my heartbeat quickening—whether from anxiety or irritation, I couldn’t tell. I was about to head toward an empty table when a voice suddenly called out.

“Ash!”

I stopped. I knew that voice.

Turning around, I wasn’t surprised at all.

“Corrine,” I said as she approached, giving her a brief nod. “You’re here, too.”

My tone was neutral. Not cold, but not warm either. Just enough to avoid rudeness, yet clear enough to establish distance.

She smiled, as if she hadn’t noticed anything unusual about my reaction. Or perhaps she simply chose to ignore it.

“Your mom told me to come,” she said, stepping a little closer. “To accompany you.”

I nodded slightly, though something inside me sank. I knew I didn’t need her—more importantly, she wasn’t the person I wanted beside me tonight.

And yet, no matter how much I wanted to push her away, I couldn’t. I owed Corrine something, a debt I couldn’t simply erase. I always owe something to a woman. Emily and then her.

When my sister, Alisson, was in an accident, Corrine was one of the first people on the scene. It was a night filled with sirens, blood, and terror—a night when I thought I was about to lose the only sibling I had.

Alisson had been involved in a severe car crash. There were countless injured victims. Blood everywhere. The hospital ran dangerously low on supplies, and the doctors were close to giving up. There wasn’t enough blood. There wasn’t enough time.

And that was when Corrine stepped in.

She had been a patient herself—bruised, scratched, but only mildly injured. Capable of donating, the doctor had said. And she didn’t hesitate.

No questions. No complaints.

At that moment, she saved my sister’s life.

Even now, even with a part of me wanting to push her away, I can’t bring myself to be rude to Corrine. I can’t ignore the debt I owe her, not when that debt was paid in blood and fear and a life that could have been lost. Even if the price I pay is the uneasy silence of my own conscience.

Corrine and I walked side by side toward the table. Naturally, she slipped her hand around my arm, a gesture familiar to the eyes of others, something that looked effortless, almost expected. I didn’t pull away. I let her hold on, even though I knew it was wrong, even though I knew someone else would be hurt the moment they saw us like this.

Every step felt heavy, as if I were walking toward something inevitable, or running away from something I feared would finally happen.

And before we even reached the table, I noticed something strange.

Whispers.

Soft at first, barely more than a breeze slipping between conversations. But slowly, they grew clearer. Louder. More synchronized. As if the entire room had been waiting for the same scene to unfold.

I looked around.

Almost every guest had turned their attention in a single direction.

Something slammed hard against my chest.

Slowly, I followed their gaze.

And that was when I saw her.

Emily.

She was walking toward us.

Not rushing. Not hesitating either. Each step was quiet, controlled—yet powerful enough to silence the entire function room. People instinctively stepped aside, creating space for her as she passed, as if the crowd itself recognized her presence and yielded.

She was beautiful.

Not because of what she was wearing—but because of what she carried. There was strength in her aura. A distance I could no longer cross so easily.

At that moment, my hand went cold.

I didn’t know when it started, but it was unmistakable—something about her had truly changed.

Not just her posture.

Not just her appearance.

But her very presence.

She wore a black off-shoulder gown, perfectly fitted to her body, as if deliberately revealing the curves she once tried so hard to hide. Elegant, yet dangerous. Never vulgar, but far from innocent. Every step felt like a warning rather than an invitation.

Her hair was tied up, exposing her neck—and that was when I noticed the earrings and necklace glinting beneath the lights. Clearly expensive. Not flashy. Just refined. The kind of elegance that never begs for attention because it commands it effortlessly.

I swallowed hard.

I’ve never seen her wear black.

She always chose light blue. Soft colors. Gentle shades. I loved that about her—or at least, I thought I did. Only now did it occur to me… maybe she wore those colors because she knew I liked them.

But now—

She was different.

The Emily I used to know—easy to approach, easy to talk to, and easy to read was gone. The woman walking toward us now was fearless, unyielding, and looked ready to defend herself against anyone who dared cross her path.

Especially me.

She looked fierce.

Strong.

Like someone you’d have to think twice about approaching because you’d never know whether she’d welcome you… or shut you out completely.

And once again—

I was seeing her differently.

“Is that Emily?” Corrine asked, shock unmistakable in her voice.

I didn’t answer.

All my attention was locked onto the woman walking toward me, the wife I felt like I was meeting for the first time all over again.

Emily’s gaze swept over me.

Just for a second.

But it was enough for our eyes to meet.

I saw her brow tighten slightly, followed by a smirk. Not a smile. Not anger either. An expression that said she knew something… and I was the punchline.

As if she were laughing at me.

My jaw hardened.

I didn’t like that.

I couldn’t accept being reduced to someone she could dismiss so easily—someone she could look at once, mock silently, and walk away from without regret.

Before I could think better of it, my body moved on its own.

I walked toward her.

My steps were fast—too fast. I forgot that Corrine was still holding onto my arm. I nearly dragged her along as I rushed after Emily, but I didn’t care anymore.

At that moment, only one thing was clear in my mind—

I would not allow things to end like this.

I would not allow her to look at me as if I were nothing more than a stranger with no value left in her life.

And even though I still didn’t know what I was going to say—

I was certain of one thing.

I will not let this end between us.

I will never—ever—divorce her in this lifetime.