Rain pounded against the pavement, relentless and heavy.

My husband, Samuel, barked urgently through the phone.


"I need those now! Get moving!"

A woman's laughter floated through the phone in the background.

"Sam, honey, there's a vending machine downstairs full of condoms. Why drag your wife out in this weather?"


His voice turned to ice.

"She's nothing but dead weight. Might as well make herself useful for once."


The line went dead. I gripped the plastic bag tighter, knuckles white.

Just five more days. I can endure this.

Five days until our three-year marriage contract expires. Then I'll finally be free…

My car died halfway there, swallowed by the flooded street.

With Samuel growing impatient, I had no choice but to continue on foot. My umbrella quickly surrendered to the downpour, leaving me drenched to the bone.

Only the plastic bag remained dry, protected in my desperate grip.

Samuel had specifically demanded these items dry. With his obsessive cleanliness, I'd have to replace anything dampened by the rain.

With freedom just days away, I couldn't risk provoking him now. Not when I was so close.

"Well, look at you—absolutely soaked. Better stay outside. I'd hate for the maid to clean up after you again."

A slender arm snaked through the narrow door opening, snatching the bag from my hand. Fresh passion marks dotted her pale wrist, and she flashed me a smirk of triumph.

It was Rachel, Samuel's secretary—just one of his many conquests.

After warming his bed for months, she clearly had ambitions beyond her job title. Lucky for her, I had no interest in fighting for Samuel's affections.

I was already gone in every way that mattered.

"Don't worry," I said flatly. "Your precious items stayed dry."

The door slammed in my face with a decisive thud.

Message received: don't come home tonight. Don't interrupt their fun.

I couldn't care less.

In five days, this sham marriage would be legally over, and I'd be gone for good.

I'd already secured an apartment across town.

I'd only returned to collect the last of my belongings—what little I still cared about.

I'd come back tomorrow while Samuel was at work. Safer that way.

I popped open my broken umbrella and turned away from what was never really my home.

A gust tore the umbrella from my hands, leaving me defenseless against the downpour. Through the curtain of rain, I spotted the security guard waving me over.

"Ma'am! This storm's getting worse. Come take shelter for a bit!"

The tiny security booth barely fit one person, and I was dripping like a drowning rat.

With a grateful smile, I declined his offer and gestured toward the main road. "I'll just grab a taxi, but thank you."

He shook his head, muttering just loud enough for me to hear.

"What a shame. The boss doesn't know what he's throwing away."

Samuel's heart might as well be carved from granite.

For the first year of our arrangement, I tried desperately to be the perfect wife.

I learned his dietary restrictions and cooked every meal from scratch. I pressed his shirts until they could stand on their own. I anticipated his needs before he voiced them.

Samuel barely acknowledged my existence.

Of course, I had forced this marriage on him. My feelings had always been one-sided, a schoolgirl crush that evolved into obsession.

Three years ago, when his family business faced bankruptcy, I convinced my parents to save them. I threatened self-harm if they wouldn't let me marry him.

My parents reluctantly agreed, unable to bear seeing their only daughter so distraught.

Samuel had no choice but to accept me as his wife—his family's financial salvation came with me attached.

In public, he played the dutiful husband. Behind closed doors, he made sure I understood exactly how much he resented our arrangement.

Even the most desperate fool eventually sees the truth.

I squared my shoulders and prepared to flag down a taxi.

My phone screen flickered and died—waterlogged beyond repair.

Distracted by my useless phone, I missed the curb and crashed down hard. Pain shot through my knee as blood bloomed against my skin.

I tried to stand but my leg buckled beneath me.

The rain formed a gray wall around me. The security booth had disappeared into the deluge.

Behind me, the villa's lights went dark. My so-called husband was busy with his secretary while I bled in the rain.

My vision blurred as consciousness began to slip away. Through the haze, I saw a figure rushing toward me.

"Ma'am! Mr. Wilson sent me to bring you inside immediately!"