Nyla returned home and sat on the living room sofa, staring at her phone. The number she had just dialed glowed on the screen. After calming down from her anger and pain, she had to face reality. A divorce required financial independence. Clark was covering all of her father's monthly medical expenses. The bills reached a staggering $100,000 each month. She simply couldn't afford it.

Her fingers trembled as she scrolled through her contacts. She stopped at a familiar name. Professor Anderson. Her former research supervisor from graduate school.

"Professor Anderson? This is Nyla. Nyla Jayston." She tried to sound calm, but her voice cracked slightly.

A surprised voice came from the other end. "Nyla! Oh my god, are you okay? I haven't been in touch since you got married three years ago."

Nyla bit her lip hard. The metallic taste of blood filled her mouth. "Professor, I want to return to research. I know this sounds sudden, but I need a job."

"Of course!" Professor Anderson agreed without hesitation. "You're one of the best students I've ever taught. Your thesis on molecular biology was groundbreaking. I can contact you right now with a company that's looking for a senior researcher position. The salary is excellent."

"Thank you," Nyla whispered. Relief flooded through her chest. "I really appreciate this."

"Don't mention it. You have incredible talent. It's a shame you left research when you got married. When can you start?"

"As soon as possible."

After hanging up, Nyla felt a small spark of hope. She could do this. She could leave Clark and rebuild her life.

She walked into their bedroom and began packing. Her hands moved mechanically, folding clothes and placing them in a suitcase. Hanging in the closet were the matching pajamas they'd bought on their honeymoon in Paris. On the dresser sat a small angel figurine they'd brought back from Italy. On the wall were photos of them at the beach, laughing and kissing under the sunset.

Each item silently spoke of past sweetness. Yet now they stabbed her heart like knives. How had she been so blind? How had she missed the signs?

She opened the dresser drawer to retrieve some personal belongings. Her wedding ring caught the light, mocking her. Then she saw it. The marriage certificate.

With trembling hands, Nyla picked it up. She flipped to the first page, revealing two young, radiant faces. Her own smile was so bright it hurt to look at. Clark's eyes shone with pure joy.

It was August 23rd, three years ago. To become the first couple to receive their marriage certificate that day, they had woken up at four in the morning to queue at the registry office. Clark had been as excited as a child. He spoke nervously throughout the entire ride.

"Nyla, we're really getting married," he had said, bouncing in the passenger seat. "I feel like I'm eighteen again. Like the first time I saw you in Professor Wilson's chemistry class."

When the staff handed them the marriage certificate, Clark's hands had trembled violently. He took it carefully, as if it were made of glass. Tears welled in his eyes.

"Nyla, we're finally husband and wife," he had whispered, his voice breaking with emotion. "I swear I'll love and protect you for the rest of my life. You're everything to me."

Nyla had believed every word. She had thought they were soulmates. Forever.

But now...

She stared at her beaming smile in the photo. Before she could shed a tear, she heard the familiar sound of a car engine downstairs. Her heart stopped. The garage door rumbled open. Footsteps on the stairs.

"Honey, I'm back!" Clark's voice echoed from downstairs, cheerful and casual.

Panic seized Nyla's chest. She hurriedly shoved the marriage certificate back into the drawer. She wiped her eyes frantically and tried to appear normal. The bedroom door was still open. She couldn't let him see the suitcase.

Footsteps approached down the hallway. Clark pushed the door open, his face lighting up when he saw her. Without warning, he wrapped his arms around her from behind.

His embrace had once been her safest haven. Now Nyla felt only nausea rising in her throat. She could smell an unfamiliar scent on his skin. Sweet vanilla shower gel. He had obviously showered somewhere else before coming home.

"Did you miss me?" Clark whispered softly in her ear. His voice carried a lazy satisfaction, like a cat who'd just finished a meal.

Nyla's muscles tensed. She resisted the urge to shove him away. Her body felt rigid as stone. "Where have you been?"

"I'm sorry, babe." Clark's lie rolled off his tongue effortlessly. "I was so busy at work yesterday that I fell asleep at the office. I completely missed our anniversary."

He pulled an exquisite jewelry box from his jacket pocket. "But look what I got you to make up for it."

He opened the box with a flourish. Inside lay an exquisite diamond necklace. The stones caught the bedroom light, throwing rainbow patterns on the walls.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Clark's eyes sparkled with pride. "Turn around so I can put it on you."

Nyla mechanically turned around. She felt like a puppet with cut strings. Clark's fingers traced her neck as he fastened the clasp. The cold metal pressed against her skin. The diamonds felt heavy. Suffocating.

"Perfect," Clark stepped back to admire his handiwork. His satisfaction was obvious. "Tomorrow night is Grandpa's birthday party. The entire Summer family will be there. With this necklace, you'll definitely be the most beautiful woman in the room."

"Do I need to go?" Nyla asked. Her voice sounded hollow even to her own ears. She just wanted to escape. To get away from everything connected to the Summer family.

"Of course you need to go. You're my wife." Clark looked at her with what seemed like genuine affection. He leaned in to kiss her, but Nyla quickly pushed him away.

"You should shower first," she said, turning her face away.

Clark nodded, seemingly unbothered. "Good idea. I've been working all day."

He grabbed some clothes and headed to the bathroom. The shower turned on. Steam began seeping under the door.

Nyla's phone suddenly buzzed with a notification. She glanced at the screen. A Facebook message.

Her blood turned to ice.

On the screen was a photo. A woman wearing a necklace identical to the one around Nyla's neck. Hickeys and scratches covered the woman's pale skin. The photo was cropped to show only her slender neck and the curve of her breasts.

Below the image was a message that made Nyla's world crumble: [Does the necklace look good? I picked it out especially for you. I wore it when we made love last night. Clark said it looked beautiful on me.]

Nyla felt a surge of nausea wash over her. She quickly removed the necklace from her neck. Without hesitation, she tossed it into the bedroom trash can. The diamonds clinked against the metal bin.

She rushed into the guest bathroom and turned on the shower. The scalding water burned her skin, but she didn't care.

She grabbed the shower gel and frantically scrubbed her neck and body. She needed to remove every trace of Clark. Every memory of his touch.

Her skin turned red from the harsh scrubbing, but she still felt dirty. The thought of that necklace clinging to another woman's neck made her sick.

She imagined it swaying as that woman moved beneath Clark. The mental image made her stomach lurch.

The bathroom door suddenly opened. Clark stood in the doorway, his eyes fixed on Nyla through the glass shower door. His gaze traveled over her wet hair, down her shoulders, following the water droplets that traced her curves.

Clark's breathing became heavy. His eyes burned with lust. "Nyla, you're so beautiful," he said, his voice thick with desire.

Nyla heard his voice and immediately wrapped herself in a towel. She stepped out of the shower, but the thought that he might have looked at that other woman the same way made her nauseous.

"Don't come near me." Nyla took several steps back, but Clark was already approaching.

"Baby, what's wrong?" Clark reached out to touch her cheek, but Nyla quickly dodged his hand.

Clark didn't give up. Instead, he pulled her into his arms. His hands began wandering over her body, caressing her back through the towel. Then they moved lower.

"Nyla, I want you," he whispered in her ear. His breath was hot against her skin.

Nyla's body went rigid. She tried to pull away, but Clark was much stronger. His hand moved to her breast, his thumb brushing over the sensitive skin. His other hand slid down toward her inner thigh.

"Let's have a baby, okay?" Clark's voice was filled with longing. "We could have a beautiful child. A little girl with your eyes."

Nyla felt ice water flood her veins. She thought of the photo that woman had sent. The same hands that were touching her now had been all over another woman's body just hours ago.

Anger and disgust exploded inside her chest.

"Get away from me!" Nyla pushed Clark with all her strength. "Clark, I'm tired! I don't want to do this right now!"

Clark stumbled backward, startled by her sudden fury. He stared at Nyla's face, confusion clouding his features.

"Honey, I'm sorry." His voice immediately filled with guilt. "I shouldn't have pushed you. I just want you so badly. I love you so much."

He paused, searching her face. "If you don't want a child right now, we can wait."

Watching Clark's apologetic expression, Nyla felt a mixture of emotions churning in her stomach. This man had been gentle and caring toward her for three years. She couldn't reconcile this version of him with the man who had been with another woman last night.

But the facts were undeniable. Those photos. Those messages. The necklace in the trash can.

That night, Nyla lay awake staring at the ceiling. Clark's breathing was even beside her. The painful images replayed in her mind over and over. She didn't sleep until dawn.

The next morning, Nyla woke with dark circles under her eyes. Her reflection in the mirror looked hollow and tired.

"Honey, are you feeling okay?" Clark asked with concern. "You look exhausted. Maybe you should rest today."

Nyla shook her head. "I'm fine. We need to get ready for your grandfather's birthday party."

As they drove through the gates of the Summer family estate, a black Rolls-Royce suddenly roared past them. It stopped directly in front of the main entrance. The license plate read "DAMON-1."

Clark's hands tightened on the steering wheel. His face darkened instantly.

"Uncle Damon," he muttered under his breath.

Damon Summer was Clark's uncle, Richard's youngest son. Despite being only six years older than Clark, Damon had always intimidated his nephew.

He had refused to join the family business, starting his own company instead. That company was now worth five times more than Summer Group.

Damon was known for being brilliant, ruthless, and vindictive. Last year, he had overheard Clark making disparaging comments about him at a business dinner.

As punishment, Damon had refused a potential partnership that would have brought Summer Group hundreds of millions in revenue.

Clark parked behind the Rolls-Royce. As Nyla stepped out of the car, her high heel caught in the gravel driveway. She wobbled, about to fall backward.

Suddenly, a pair of strong hands caught her waist, steadying her against a solid chest.

Nyla looked up into a pair of deep, dark eyes. The man was tall and imposing, probably around twenty-nine.

His features were sharp and perfectly sculpted. High cheekbones, a straight nose, a strong jawline. He wore a tailored dark gray suit that emphasized his broad shoulders and lean build.

This was Damon Summer.

"Careful," Damon said. His voice was deep and magnetic, with a hint of genuine concern.

For a moment, Nyla found herself caught in his gaze.

Clark appeared beside them, his face flushed with jealousy. He roughly grabbed Nyla's hand and pulled her away from Damon.

"Thank you, Uncle," Clark said tersely. His voice was tight with barely controlled anger.

He dragged Nyla toward the manor entrance. After they'd walked a few steps, he leaned close to her ear.

"Nyla, you know I don't like you getting too close to other men," he whispered harshly. "Not even my uncle."

Nyla almost laughed at the irony. Here was Clark, who had been with another woman just last night, acting possessive about her talking to his uncle.

"So you'd rather have your wife fall flat on her face in front of the Summer family estate?" she replied coldly.

Clark immediately backed down. "Honey, that's not what I meant. I just don't want people to get the wrong idea."

Nyla ignored him and continued walking toward the entrance.

The Summer family manor was impressive, with its grand foyer and crystal chandeliers. But Nyla felt no joy at being here.

In the living room, Clark's grandmother Marie immediately called out with a beaming smile. "Nyla, Clark, you're here! Come sit down!"

Nyla took a deep breath and forced a polite smile. Whatever her feelings about Clark, she still respected his grandparents. Richard had always treated her kindly.

"Hello, Grandpa. Hello, Grandma," she greeted them warmly.

Marie's eyes lit up as she watched Clark and Nyla approach. She had been trying to convince Damon to settle down for years.

"Come, sit here next to me," Marie patted the sofa beside her.

As they settled in, Damon entered the living room. Marie's expression immediately shifted to disapproval.

"Look at Clark," she said pointedly to Damon. "He's got his company running smoothly, and his wife is absolutely beautiful. They might be giving us a great-grandchild soon."

Her voice grew stern. "And you? You're almost thirty and still single. If you don't bring a girlfriend to the next family gathering, don't bother coming at all!"

Damon's gaze flicked to Clark, then settled on Nyla. His lips curved into a half-smile.

"Yes," he said quietly. "Really beautiful."

Marie's headache intensified at Damon's nonchalant attitude.

She shook her head and turned her attention to Clark and Nyla. "You've been married for three years now. When are you planning on having kids? I'm looking forward to having great-grandchildren."

The moment this topic came up, the atmosphere in the living room suddenly became tense. Nyla's fingers gripped her teacup so tightly her knuckles turned white.

This was her most sensitive topic, the one that pierced her heart every time it was mentioned.

Clark's aunt Anne immediately seized the opportunity.

She leaned forward with a sneer. "Nyla, you and Clark have been married for three years. What will it look like if you don't have a child? What will others think of our Summer family?"

She paused, malice glinting in her eyes. "And if Clark hadn't insisted on marrying you, do you think you could have married into our Summer family with your background? Don't be so ungrateful. You don't want to have children for Clark, but there are plenty of women out there who would."

Anne spoke with mock concern, but her gaze was filled with contempt. She had always looked down on this niece-in-law.

Talking about children made Nyla's chest tighten with pain. Of course she wanted a child. She had given up her promising career in scientific research to be a good wife. But she couldn't conceive.

She had secretly visited doctors who said nothing was wrong with her body. Perhaps it was stress. But the Summer family often mocked her, calling her barren and useless.

Just as Nyla was drowning in humiliation, Clark suddenly took her hand. He smiled at his grandmother. "Grandma, we're trying! There's no rushing these things. We have to let nature take its course."

Then he turned to Anne, his voice stern. "Anne, watch your words. Nyla is my wife, and I won't tolerate anyone speaking to her like that."

Anne's face flushed red at being publicly rebuked. "I'm doing this for your own good. You've been married for so long without any progress..."

"That's enough," Clark interrupted sharply. "You don't need to worry about Nyla and me. And I want to make it clear that I'm honored to have Nyla as my wife. She didn't marry up."

Nyla felt a confusing mix of emotions as she listened to Clark's defense. The love they had shared over the years was genuine. Clark's protection of her had always felt real. He consistently stood between her and his family's criticism.

But at the same time, his betrayal was also real. Those photos, that necklace in the trash can, the woman's taunting messages. All of it reminded her that this man had deceived her completely.

Anne was clearly unwilling to let this go. She continued with false sweetness. "I'm just telling the truth. No pregnancy in three years? Maybe there's something wrong with her body. With all the medical advances these days, she should get checked out. There are treatments for these things."

"Anne!" Clark's voice turned dangerously cold. "I'm warning you for the last time. Whether or when we have children is between Nyla and me. It's not your business to interfere."

In the past, Nyla would have been grateful for Clark's protection. She would have seen it as proof of his love. But today, hearing these words felt hollow.

She knew that the moment Clark cheated, everything changed. No amount of public defense could erase what he had done in private.

Midway through the banquet, Clark's phone suddenly rang.

"Sorry, everyone," Clark said with an apologetic smile. "There's an emergency at work. I need to handle this right away."

He turned to Nyla, his expression softening. "Honey, can you have Grandma's driver take you home? I'll be back as soon as I can."

Marie waved dismissively. "Clark, go ahead. Don't worry about Nyla."

Clark kissed Nyla's forehead quickly. "I'll make this up to you, I promise."

As soon as Clark's car disappeared down the driveway, Marie's polite mask slipped completely. She looked at Nyla with open displeasure.

"Well, now that Clark's gone," Marie said coolly, "I suppose you'll be wanting to leave too."

The temperature in the room seemed to drop.

"Nyla's not some delicate flower," Anne chimed in with renewed confidence. "She can find her own way home, can't she?"

Nyla felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment. She had been dismissed like a servant. Without Clark's protection, she meant nothing to these people.

"I think that's my cue to leave," Nyla said. She stood up. "Thank you for your hospitality."

The butler, following Marie's subtle nod, escorted Nyla only to the manor gate. He immediately turned back toward the house, leaving her standing alone on the roadside.

That's when the rain started.

Fat droplets fell from the dark sky, quickly soaking through Nyla's silk dress.

She pulled out her phone to call a taxi, but the app showed no available drivers in this remote area. The Summer estate was far from the city center.

The rain intensified rapidly. Within minutes, Nyla was completely drenched. Her carefully styled hair hung in wet strands around her face. Her dress clung uncomfortably to her skin.

Just when she thought things couldn't get worse, headlights cut through the darkness. A black Rolls-Royce slowed to a stop beside her.

The window rolled down, revealing Damon's sharp features.