Next, I went to my own account and changed my profile picture from our engagement photo to a Renaissance painting—Judith Slaying Holofernes.

Less than a minute later, my comment was deleted. Immediately after, the door to my room was pushed open, and Caspian's confidant, Nico Gallo, strode in.

"Ma'am," he said with a slight nod, his tone respectful yet cold. "Mr. Sterling wanted me to let you know that Briar's situation is delicate. She's a key asset inside a rival family, and he's fulfilling his duty as her handler. He hopes you can understand."

Ah, duty. Caspian's favorite word for anything concerning Briar.

When that informant was first recruited, she didn't even know the most basic counter-surveillance techniques. She was clumsy, impulsive, and always bungled his orders, turning them into one mess after another. Caspian used to complain about her constantly, telling me she was slow on the uptake and a massive pain.

He used to tell me everything, but at some point, all his stories started revolving around her.

"Seraphina, that woman can't even remember basic Morse code! I have no idea how she’s still breathing."

"Briar got herself exposed again today and made me look like a fool in front of the council! I swear, one of these days I'm handing her over to Intelligence to sort out!"

He was always threatening to remove her from the core network, but she remained his closest informant—right up until she claimed a rival family was after her.

Then, I watched as he changed her codename from "Trouble" to "Thornbird."

Now, with all the signs of his betrayal laid out before me, how was I supposed to just turn a blind eye?

I listened calmly, feeling no desire to argue with a mere messenger, and let out a soft, dry laugh. "I see."

Nico seemed surprised by my composure. He paused, his tone softening slightly. "Mr. Sterling has arranged for your favorite Michelin-starred chef to cook for you personally tonight. He hopes you'll…"

Before he could finish, the door swung open again. This time, it was my attending physician, Elias Croft.

"Nico, you can leave," Elias said, his voice brokering no argument. "Seraphina needs to rest."

Nico glanced at Elias, then at me, and ultimately chose to obey.

After he left, Elias came to my bedside and began removing the IV from my hand.

"You're cleared for discharge. But you've just had major surgery, so you need to take it easy. Your health comes first, Seraphina. You need to focus on that, alright?"

The only response I could muster was a soft "Mm."

In the bulletproof car on the way back to the Sterling manor, I forwarded a copy of the alliance agreement, which Caspian had signed himself before our marriage, to my closest friend and our family's Consigliere, Juliana Croft.

I messaged her, "If there are no loopholes, I need two copies of the papers to dissolve the alliance. As soon as possible."

Juliana's reply was swift: "Leave it to me."

In the past, to put my mind at ease about this political marriage, Caspian had personally drafted the agreement. If he ever betrayed our alliance or proved disloyal, he would forfeit all assets and power tied to our marriage, leaving with nothing.

Back then, the look in his eyes when he gazed at me burned with a possessiveness so certain he would never break his vow.

Unfortunately, time corrodes all things, even a vow forged in blood and power.

It was evening when I returned to the manor. The dining table had long been cleared of the meal left untouched two nights ago, and the entire main house was filled with a cold, oppressive atmosphere.

It was obvious that in the last two days, Caspian had not set foot in our home.

I forced myself to shower, took painkillers to numb the raw ache in my abdomen, and quickly fell asleep in the guest room.

At midnight, the front door was thrown open with a bang. He stormed from the master bedroom to the guest room, and then—

Bang!

The door was kicked open, jolting me from my light sleep.

The next moment, a harsh light flickered on, illuminating Caspian's face, which was tense with fury.

"I am your husband, Seraphina! How dare you leave the clinic without a word?"

As my eyes adjusted to the light, I saw him standing at the door, panting. His expression was cold, filled with condescending accusation.

Behind him, peeking out, was none other than Briar. She was swimming in a silk robe that was clearly too large for her, her pale face framed by messy, flaxen curls. The robe gaped slightly, revealing a pair of long, fair legs and hinting that she wore nothing underneath.

I recognized the robe immediately. It was the birthday gift I had given Caspian this year, custom-made by a top designer.

The irony was, I clearly remembered him telling me just a month ago that the robe had been ruined in an "accident."

Oblivious to his exposed lie, he snatched an antique vase—one of my favorite pieces from my collection—and slammed it onto the floor. The sharp crack shattered the silence, scattering cold shards near my feet.

Caspian was seething with self-righteous anger. He pointed a finger at me, every word dripping with ice. "How dare you leave the clinic without telling me? Didn't you hear the doctor? The pregnancy was high-risk! You could have lost the baby at any second! Seraphina, when are you going to grow up?"

"I was looking for you for half an hour! Would it have killed you to let me know you were discharged?!"