The Truth Laid Bare

The next morning, Mia came downstairs draped in my favorite silk robe. She carried herself with deliberate grace, a smug little sway in her steps. The faint fragrance that trailed after her made my chest tighten—it was the perfume Noah and I had blended together in Gallia during the height of our romance. It was the only bottle of its kind in the world, and it was supposed to be mine.

I sat at the dining table, watching her coldly as she slid into the chair across from me.

"Mila, did you sleep well last night?" Mia smiled with feigned innocence as she rested her wrist on the table, making sure the watch on her arm caught the light.

She was just a poor student—there was no way she could afford something like that. There was no doubt in my mind that Noah had given it to her. And now, she was flaunting it right in my face.

I ignored her, lowering my gaze to eat my bowl of oatmeal. She seemed unfazed, picking up a bowl of bone broth and swirling it slowly with her spoon.

"Noah treats me so well," she said lightly. "He knows I've been struggling with morning sickness, so he got up in the middle of the night to make this for me. He said it's good for the baby. Mila, would you like to try some too?"

The sharp crack of porcelain echoed through the room as I slammed the bowl out of her hands and shattered it against the floor.

"Ahhh!" Mia shrieked, darting straight into Noah's arms the moment he stepped inside. She buried her face against his chest, sobbing pitifully. "Noah, I'm so scared. Is Mila losing her mind?"

Noah immediately shielded the "terrified" Mia behind him. When his gaze found me, there was nothing but anger in his eyes. "Mila, look at yourself. What are you doing? Mia is pregnant, she's from my hometown, and she's the very girl we sponsored through school as a couple. What reason do you have to treat her this way?"

I refused to play along with their act any longer. "I know the child Mia is carrying is yours."

Noah froze for a split second before breaking into a smile. "Mila, haven't you always wanted a baby?"

That smile twisted cruelly as he went on. "Mia is carrying one for you. Shouldn't you be thanking me?"

"Thank you?" My hands trembled with rage. "You want me to thank you for knocking up your mistress so she can give me a child?"

Just then, Noah's mother walked in, carrying chicken soup she had made since bright and early. "Noah, did you just say Mia's baby is yours?"

Noah nodded. At once, his mother's eyes lit up, and she burst into laughter. "Heavens above, finally! Our family is going to have an heir!"

She stormed up to me, jabbing a finger in my face as her voice rose in fury. "You barren woman! Our family has hung by a single son for three generations, and we've given you three years with not so much as a stir in your belly. And now you dare try to harm my precious grandson? What wickedness are you plotting?!"

Noah's father chimed in, his tone no less harsh. "Mila, marrying into this family was the best thing that ever happened to you. You can't give him children yourself, yet you begrudge him for finding someone who can? Don't be so unreasonable!"

Shameless didn't even begin to cover this family.

"Mila, please don't be upset." Mia peeked out from behind Noah, one hand protectively stroking her belly. "Didn't the doctor say it would be difficult for you to conceive? Noah only did this for your own good."

The world spun around me. My body shook so violently I could barely breathe. I tried to speak, to point at them and shout the truth, but before I could form the words, everything went dark. My knees buckled, and I collapsed to the floor.

Framed

When I woke up, I saw dozens upon dozens of missed calls from my assistant. While I had been unconscious, Noah had rushed to convene an emergency board meeting at Justice Corp., pushing for my removal as chairwoman.

Fury drove me; I slammed my foot on the gas, and ten minutes later I was shoving open the doors to the conference room.

Noah faltered at the sight of me, though he quickly masked his surprise with a look of concern. "Mila, the weather's cold. Don't catch a chill."

I ignored him and addressed the room. "Whoever is trying to remove me, I don't agree!"

A low, mocking laugh came from my stepmother, Cynthia Kingstone. "Mila, your temper has been worsening. You throw tantrums, smash things—you're clearly unfit to remain in your position."

Her words dredged up a memory I had nearly forgotten.

Months ago, I had stumbled upon Cynthia and Noah speaking secretly in the garden. I remembered seeing her slip him a card while the two of them whispered like conspirators. At the time, he had brushed it off, claiming it was nothing more than "pocket money" from an elder. Now I understood—they had been working together all along.

Suddenly, Noah's voice boomed from the microphone. "Everyone, please, quiet down. I have a video I'd like you all to see—my wife Mila's true state these past days."

The screen behind him lit up. There I was, screaming in the living room, face twisted with hysteria as I hurled a bowl of bone broth to the floor. Every frame had been carefully edited, leaving only the worst moments, painting me as nothing but a deranged lunatic.

Gasps rippled across the room. Cynthia dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief, weeping softly at just the right moment.

I locked my gaze on Noah, my heart like ice. He met my eyes with a look of feigned anguish. What a brilliant actor he was.

As soon as the video ended, a man in a white coat entered the room. "I'm Dr. Leeds from the state psychiatric hospital. Based on my evaluation, Ms. Justice is experiencing an acute episode of bipolar disorder with violent tendencies. She must be placed under immediate isolation and treatment."

Noah's eyes brimmed with tears. "My wife's mental state has been unstable due to personal family reasons, and it's begun to affect company operations severely. For the sake of protecting what we've all built together, I propose suspending Mila's position as chairwoman and allowing me to act in her stead until this crisis is resolved. Gentlemen—for Mila's sake, and for everyone's safety, this is the only choice."

His loyal allies on the board chimed in at once.

"Mr. Carter is right. Stabilizing the situation comes first!"

"You should focus on your health, Ms. Justice. That matters most."

Before I could speak, the doors burst open again. A storm of flashing lights engulfed the room as a flood of reporters swarmed inside.

Noah put on an expression of grief so convincing it nearly made me laugh. "Fellow reporters, this pains me deeply."

He brushed past me and led them forward, playing his role to perfection. "My wife… She hasn't been able to conceive, and it has taken a toll on her mind."

Several microphones and recorders shot up in my face.

"Ms. Justice, is it true you've developed a mental illness because of infertility?"

"Mr. Carter claims you've been violent at home—breaking things, even attacking him. Is that true?"

"How can shareholders trust Justice Corp. in the hands of someone unstable?"

I opened my mouth to protest, but Noah seized my wrist before I could utter a word. Turning toward the cameras, his voice cracked as his eyes reddened. "Don't be afraid, Mila. I'll take you to the best hospital right away."

The performance was flawless. To the world, he was a devoted husband bearing unbearable pain for his fragile wife. And me? I stood there in nothing but thin pajamas, hair in disarray, my face ghostly pale.

Before I knew it, he had dragged me out, shoving me into a van bound for the psychiatric hospital.

Betrayal

Two burly men held me down in the backseat, their hands like iron clamps on my arms. In the front sat two men in white coats whose sharp smell of disinfectant clashed with their cold eyes and rough movements. They were no doctors—more like hired thugs.

One of them caught my reflection in the rearview mirror and spoke without a shred of warmth. "Don't bother resisting, Ms. Justice. We're just following orders, taking you somewhere you can 'chill'."

Outside the car window, Noah stood on the steps, putting on a masterful show of grief for my relatives. He was immaculate in his tailored suit, eyes downcast, a hand rising now and then to wipe away nonexistent tears. He looked exactly as he had when I had once believed him to be the most devoted man alive—except now he didn't even glance at the woman being shoved into a car behind him.

I had once thought Noah's vow of "I'll always protect you" was our unshakable bond. Now I knew they were nothing but my own naivete.

"Take her away. Hurry. Don't let her lose control."

That face I had loved so deeply was now monstrous to me. I closed my eyes. By the time I snapped back, the car was nearly at the hospital.

But I refused to go quietly. When the car stopped at a red light and my guards grew momentarily distracted, I threw all my weight against the door, tumbling out onto the street. Pain shot through my knees and palms as they scraped the asphalt, but I barely noticed.

Barefoot, I ran through the freezing night, the cold road biting into my skin.

I needed somewhere to hide. Faces flashed through my mind until one settled—Lucia. My closest friend, the one who had watched me fall in love and marry, the only person who had once warned me, "Noah's mind runs deep. Be careful." Now, she was the only one I could trust.

By the time I reached her door, dressed in a thin hospital gown, bleeding and bruised, I could hardly stand. I knocked weakly.

"Mila!" Lucia gasped, covering her mouth as she pulled me inside. "My God, what happened to you?"

Her eyes reddened at once, her voice trembling with anger and pity. "It was Noah, wasn't it? That bastard! I always knew he was no good. Look at your feet, they're torn to shreds!"

She cleaned my wounds with careful hands, brought out a silk pajama set for me to change into, and pressed a warm mug of milk into my hands. Tears finally spilled down my cheeks. "Lucia, thank you… You're all I have left."

She hugged me, patting my back gently. "Silly girl, we're best friends. You've been sheltered your whole life, always believing the best in men. I grew up fighting for every scrap—I see people for who they are. Go take a hot shower and rest. Whatever happens, I'm here." She nudged me toward the bathroom.

Steam swirled around me as I finally let my guard slip. But just as I dried off and reached for the door handle, I heard her voice from the living room—low, sly, on the phone.

"Noah, Mila's here. Don't worry."

My heart froze mid-beat.

"Hurry and send someone over. You should see her, she's a mess. Her bloody footprints are all over my carpet…"

Her tone sharpened, edged with long-hidden resentment. "I've put up with her for years. I'm sick of her. Just don't forget what you promised me."

I flung the bathroom door open and stared at her. Lucia's ingratiating smile faltered. She hadn't expected me so soon.

After a moment of panic, she tore off the mask completely. "Don't look at me like that, Mila. If you want to blame someone, blame yourself for being so lucky that it makes people sick. Why should you be born with everything—good family, good looks, a mansion, luxury cars, everyone orbiting around you?"

The room spun around me.. All those years of intimacy, of confiding, of trusting—it had all been a lie. She hadn't hated Noah's treatment of me; she had hated me.

I bolted for the door and down the stairs. Behind me, her sharp cry rose, footsteps pounding after me. I thought I was about to escape when a powerful hand shot out from the shadows of the stairwell and struck me down.

In the last second before darkness took me, I saw Lucia's face twisted with jealousy.

…

When I woke, I was in a blindingly white hospital room. The walls, the sheets, even the air seemed sterile and empty. Nurses came in at intervals, expressionless, barking commands. "307, take your medicine."

They never used my name. If I resisted, two massive orderlies would pin me down, forcing bitter liquid between my clenched teeth with metal tools until my limbs went numb. The world dulled, even my rage was like a painting behind frosted glass. My world shrank to nothing but the thud of my heartbeat.

I thought I would rot there, becoming the "madwoman" they'd painted me to be. But somewhere inside, a spark remained. I tore free of the straps one day, only to be slammed against the corridor wall by the orderlies. I kicked and screamed, biting and clawing with everything I had left.

Noah arrived soon after, his face glowing with triumph. "Are you done?"

He pulled up a chair and sat with lazy confidence, believing my spirit had finally been broken. From his briefcase, he drew a property transfer agreement and tossed it at me.

"Sign it," he said, his tone one of patronizing mercy. "Sign it and you'll still be Mrs. Carter, living in comfort. Refuse, and we'll see how you like electroshock therapy."

I turned my face away from his gloating expression, bile rising in my throat. I was ready to go down fighting.

"Mila, don't make me do this the hard way," he warned, grabbing my wrist and shoving my hand toward the blood-red ink pad.

And just as my fingerprint hovered over the paper—bang!

The heavy door of the room burst open, crashing against the wall.