Chapter 2

Lying in the cold, my body soaked, I forced my mind away from the pain. I couldn’t focus on the storm, on the way my limbs trembled uncontrollably.

Jaxon was never mine to begin with. From the moment I met him, he had belonged to Nora.

Nora the girl with the soft, trembling voice and doe-like eyes. The delicate, perfect woman who Jaxon had sworn to love forever.

I had been nothing in comparison, I had only been his second choice.

Back then, I knew it. I had seen the way Jaxon’s entire world revolved around Nora. How he had worshipped her, protected her, adored her.

I was forced into an arranged marriage, one I never wanted. But I never expected the man standing at the altar to be the same one my best friend had been in love with for years.

Jaxon.

Guilt had twisted in my stomach that day, but there was no way out. My family had made a deal, and I was the payment. So, I swallowed the lump in my throat and said, “I do.”

After the wedding, when I found Nora crying in front of my house, bags at her feet, I knew what I had to do. She had nowhere else to go, and I owed her everything.

So I let her stay.

I thought I was doing the right thing.

Then one night, I heard the sound of shattering glass. I ran into the living room and found Nora sitting on the floor, a knife at her side, blood dripping from her palm. Panic hit me. I rushed to grab the knife, my hands shaking.

That was the moment Jaxon walked in. His sharp gaze landed on me first—holding the knife—before snapping to Nora, her eyes wide and brimming with tears.

“She—she tried to hurt me,” Nora choked out.

My entire world shifted. Jaxon’s eyes darkened. He was in front of me in seconds, his fingers gripping my wrist so hard I thought it would snap.

“What the fuck did you do?” His voice was pure ice.

I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t breathe.

From that moment on, everything changed.

But then Nora left.

No one knew why. One day, she had been there—perched on Jaxon’s arm like she was made for him. The next, she was gone.

Jaxon had nearly burned the world down trying to find her. For months, he had searched for her, hunted for her, willing to tear apart every enemy, every ally, every single person who might have taken her from him.

Lightning flashed, pulling me back to the present. The storm was relentless, hammering against me, turning the pit into a rising pool of water.

I was drowning. Every breath I took felt shallower, weaker.

I tried to move, tried to crawl up, but my body was numb, my limbs heavy.

My baby.

I pressed a hand to my stomach. The rain blurred my vision, but in the distance, a figure appeared at the edge of the pit. Someone was there.

I forced my head up, gasping for air. “H-Help—”

A second later, the water rushed over my head.

Darkness swallowed me whole.

Jaxon was probably holding Nora right now.

Maybe he was tucking the blanket around her, brushing her hair back, whispering things to make her feel safe.

He wouldn’t even spare a thought for me.

I was nothing to him.

The cold was absolute, wrapping around me like a vice. My lungs burned as water flooded my nose, my throat, my chest. Panic clawed at me, but my limbs were useless—too weak. I tried to fight, tried to push against the weight dragging me under, but I was drowning.

The world above felt impossibly far away.

Jaxon.

Would he care if I died? Would he even notice?

A bitter laugh bubbled in my throat, but all that escaped were air bubbles slipping through the murky water. Of course, he wouldn’t. He had what he wanted. Nora was back.

Nora.

The woman he had loved before I was forced into his life. The woman whose tears he had wiped away with gentle hands, whose bruises he had kissed, whose voice had shaped the very way he breathed.

I thought I could live with that. I thought I could endure the way he never looked at me the way he looked at her. His touch was always careful. The way he never said my name the way he said hers—like it was a prayer, like she was his salvation.

A strangled sob tore from me, swallowed instantly by the water, by the silence of the world that didn’t care whether I lived or died.

Tears burned hot against my freezing skin, mixing with the rain, with the filth, with the ache of knowing I had never been wanted.

I was slipping away, my body too weak to fight it anymore.

But just before the darkness swallowed me whole, a whisper of memory surfaced.

Nora's Shaky, breathless voice full of fear. The one sentence that had landed me into this misery.

"She ordered the hit on me, Jaxon. Valerie wanted me dead.”

Chapter 3

Nora had suddenly returned—but barely alive.

She stumbled into the estate, her clothes torn, her skin littered with bruises and dried blood. A gasp rippled through the gathered men, but before anyone could react, she swayed.

Jaxon was there in an instant.

"Don’t touch her," he growled, shoving aside anyone who dared step forward. With surprising gentleness, he scooped her into his arms, cradling her against his chest.

"Call the doctor," he barked at his men. “Now.”

The urgency in his voice sent them scrambling.

Nora let out a weak, ragged breath, her fingers twitching against his shirt. Her head lolled slightly, and as if drawn by an invisible force, her gaze locked onto mine.

A chill swept through me.

Why was she looking at me like that?

Jaxon felt the change, his sharp eyes following her gaze. The room went deathly silent.

Then, with the last of her strength, Nora lifted a trembling hand and gripped Jaxon’s sleeve.

His brows furrowed. “Nora?”

Her lips parted, her voice barely above a whisper, “She… ordered the hit on me, Jaxon.” Her breath shuddered, her grip tightening. “Valerie wanted me dead.”

My heart slammed against my ribs.

Jaxon stiffened, his entire body going rigid. A storm brewed in his gaze as his head snapped toward me.

I opened my mouth, but before I could speak—Nora’s body slumped against him, unconscious.

Jaxon didn’t hesitate.

"Take her," he commanded.

I barely had a second to react before his men stormed forward. Strong hands grabbed my arms, wrenching me away from my spot.

“No—wait!” I struggled, my voice rising in panic. “Jaxon, I didn’t—”

He didn’t even spare me a glance.

I was dragged from the room, my desperate pleas echoing off the cold walls.

Jaxon had left me to drown. I was dead. He would be happy now.

There was no chance of me ever coming between them again.

Because I was already dead.

******

The morning was quiet, except for the steady sound of boots crunching against wet dirt.

Jaxon stood a few feet away from the pit, his arms crossed and his eyes dark with cold authority. Nora was beside him, wrapped in a thick coat, still pale and fragile-looking. She held onto Jaxon’s sleeve, like she needed his strength just to stand.

"Valerie," Jaxon called out. "Nora’s fine now. I told you—I'd spare you for her sake. But you’re not walking out of that pit until you beg her for forgiveness."

There was Silence.

Jaxon exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “Don’t make me say it again.”

Yet there was still no response.

His fingers curled into fists. "Valerie!"

His patience snapped. “You think staying quiet is gonna make me change my mind? You got yourself into this, now fix it. Beg Nora for forgiveness.”

Still, nothing.

Nora hesitated before stepping forward. “Jaxon… let it go.” Her voice was soft. “I’ll forgive her. I don’t want this to go on anymore.”

Jaxon’s jaw ticked. “You’re too kind, Nora.” His gaze flicked back to the pit. “She doesn’t deserve your forgiveness. And she’s not getting out until she earns it.”

Nora touched his arm gently. “She’s your wife, Jaxon.”

Jaxon scoffed. “She lost the right to be my wife the moment she hurt you.”

“She’s still human,” Nora whispered. “I’ll endure her being around. Just… bring her out.”

Jaxon sighed, shaking his head. “She needs to learn, Nora.” His voice dropped. “She’s not getting out until she apologizes.”

Jaxon turned to Mason, his voice edged with frustration. “Check the pit.”

Mason hesitated before stepping forward. He peered inside. Then, after a long moment, he turned back to Jaxon.

“You should look for yourself, boss.”

Jaxon’s eyes narrowed. “What?”

His tone dropped low, his fingers trembling. “I think it's best you see it yourself, boss.” He said and took a step back.

Jaxon’s irritation flared. He thought Valerie was playing games with him, trying to mess with his head. With a sharp breath, he strode forward, stopping just short of the edge.

"Valerie," he barked. "Enough of this. Get up."

No movement.

His fingers twitched.

“You better respond to me, or I swear I’ll—”

Then he saw a body, half-buried in the mud.

For a second, Jaxon didn’t react. His brain refused to process what he was looking at.

“Valerie,” he called again, his voice sharp. His body tensed and his jaw locked.

“Valerie, stop this bullshit right now.” His voice was harsh. Still, she didn’t move.

“Fine.” His voice was low now, controlled. “You wanna act dead? I’ll make sure you wish you were.”

He turned to his men. “Get her out.”

Nobody moved at first. Even Mason looked hesitant.

“I said bring her the fuck out!” Jaxon snapped.

Two men hurried forward, grabbing a rope. One of them muttered, “Shit,” under his breath as they lowered it down.

Jaxon didn’t move from his spot. He just stood there, waiting.

The men hauled the body out of the pit, their boots squelching in the thick mud. Jaxon stood back, his arms crossed.

The body was covered in filth, caked in dried mud, the once-vibrant dress now a torn, soaked mess. One of the men hesitated, glancing at Jaxon before pulling out a handkerchief and wiping the face clean.

The moment the mud cleared, Jaxon froze.

Valerie.

Her skin was pale, lips slightly parted, eyes closed—motionless. Lifeless.

For the first time in years, something unfamiliar twisted in his chest.

Jaxon clenched his jaw, his fists curling at his sides.

“Take care of it,” he muttered. His voice was hoarse, strained. “Get rid of the body.”

Chapter 4

Back at the Mansion

Jaxon pushed open the door to Valerie’s room. A room that had been part of his house but never part of his life.

He stepped inside, the scent of her still faint in the air. It was neater than he expected. No sign of struggle, no trace of the woman who had once fought for his attention.

His gaze landed on a stack of papers on the nightstand. He wasn’t planning to look—he didn’t need to know anything else about her.

But his fingers moved on their own.

A single sheet stood out, the official stamp catching his eye.

Jaxon’s breath stilled as he read the words.

Pregnancy Confirmation Report.

His fingers tightened around the paper.

Pregnant.

His mind raced back to that night at the warehouse.

I’m pregnant, Jaxon. I swear.

He had thought it was a lie. A pathetic, desperate attempt to make him go easy on her.

But it wasn’t.

He exhaled, crumpling the paper in his fist.

“She deserved it,” he muttered, refusing to look weighed down.

Jaxon let out a slow breath, staring at the crumpled paper in his fist. The weight of the revelation pressed against his ribs, but he refused to let it sink in.

A sharp knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts.

“Enter.”

Mason stepped inside, “Boss,” he greeted with a small nod. His gaze flickered briefly to the report, but he made no comment. “You asked me to check on Nora.”

Jaxon turned away from the nightstand, rolling his shoulders as if shaking off the weight of something unseen. “And?”

“She’s at the penthouse. She’s fine now.”

Jaxon gave a single nod. “Good.”

Nora had fainted immediately seeing Valerie’s lifeless body.

Mason hesitated.

“It’s not my place, Boss, but… I thought you should know. Madam—she wasn’t lying. About anything.”

Jaxon’s expression didn’t shift. If anything, his face grew colder. “And?”

Mason lowered his head slightly in deference. “Nothing, sir. Just that she—” He stopped himself, choosing his words carefully. “She was loyal. Until the end.”

Jaxon exhaled slowly, his jaw tight. For a moment, something unreadable flickered behind his eyes—but then, just as quickly, it was gone. His next words were ice.

“Where’s the car?”

“Out front, Boss.”

Without another word, Jaxon strode past Mason.

******

Three Month Later

Three months passed, the world had moved on. The Blackwell family hadn’t made a fuss about Valerie’s disappearance. Jaxon made sure of that.

As far as the world was concerned, Valerie Blackwell was dead.

And Jaxon? He hadn’t thought about her since that night. That’s what he told himself.

The meeting was nearly over. His top men sat around the polished mahogany table, the air thick with cigar smoke and the scent of whiskey.

Jaxon leaned back in his chair, skimming the final contract. The deal was solid—a merger of power, control, and money. It would make him untouchable.

Satisfied, he grabbed his pen, scrawled his signature at the bottom, and slid the contract toward the man across from him.

“Done,” Jaxon said smoothly. “We have a deal.”

The man—Vincent Moretti, head of the East Syndicate—didn’t move. Instead, he exhaled slowly, his fingers tapping against the table.

“There’s one last thing,” Vincent said.

Jaxon’s expression darkened. “And what’s that?”

Vincent lifted his gaze. “To finalize the contract, we need the approval of the second party.”

Jaxon’s brow furrowed. “Second party? Who?”

The door creaked open and Jaxon’s entire body froze.

His men tensed, their hands twitching near their weapons.

Jaxon turned his head slowly and then—his world tilted.

Valerie.