Chapter 3

I didn' t stay in the family home. The atmosphere was suffocating, thick with unspoken accusations and Sarah' s cloying, manipulative presence. I moved into a small, quiet apartment the Reed family owned downtown, a place I used to use for late nights on call at the hospital. It was meant to be a temporary arrangement until the marriage to Alexander Thorne was officially registered.

The quiet was a relief. For three days, I heard nothing from my family. No pleading calls from my mother, no angry texts from Daniel. It was a fragile peace, and I knew it wouldn't last.

On the fourth day, it shattered.

I was returning from a walk, clearing my head, when I saw him waiting outside my apartment building. Daniel Sterling was leaning against his sleek, black sports car, arms crossed, a thunderous expression on his face. He looked completely out of place in the modest neighborhood.

"We need to talk," he said, pushing himself off the car as I approached. His voice was flat, an order, not a request.

"We have nothing to talk about," I replied, trying to walk past him to the entrance.

He moved quickly, grabbing my wrist. His grip was like iron. "Don't walk away from me, Evelyn."

"Let go of me, Daniel."

"Not until you tell me what the hell you're playing at," he ground out, his face close to mine. His eyes were burning with a possessive fire that I now found repulsive. "This whole stunt has gone on long enough. You've made your point. Now, drop it. You're going to marry me, just like we planned."

My eyes fell to his hand gripping my wrist. On that same wrist, I still wore a simple, silver chain bracelet. It was a gift from him, from years ago, back when I was a naive medical student and he was the charming patient I was falling for. In my past life, I cherished it. It was a symbol of everything I thought we had.

Now, it just felt like a shackle.

He followed my gaze and his expression softened slightly, a smug, knowing look creeping into his eyes. "See? You still wear it. You can't fool me, Evelyn. I know you still love me. Stop this foolish rebellion and come home."

He was so arrogant, so certain of his own irresistibility. He thought a cheap piece of jewelry was proof of my eternal devotion.

Just as I was about to tell him exactly what he could do with his bracelet, a familiar, saccharine voice called out.

"Daniel? Sister? What are you doing?"

Sarah appeared as if from nowhere, rushing toward us with a look of deep concern plastered on her face. She was wearing a beautiful new dress, one I recognized as being from a designer brand Daniel favored.

"I was so worried," she said, her eyes darting between Daniel's tight grip on my arm and my face. "Daniel, you shouldn't pressure her. Sister, I know this is hard for you..."

Her performance was as flawless as ever. The concerned sister, the gentle peacemaker.

I was done with it. I was done with both of them.

With my free hand, I unclasped the silver bracelet. The metal felt cold and foreign against my skin. I held it out, dangling it between them.

"Here," I said, my voice utterly devoid of emotion. I looked directly at Sarah. "You want it so much? Take it. Take all of it."

I dropped the bracelet. It hit the pavement with a faint, tinny clink.

Sarah gasped, her eyes wide with feigned shock.

Daniel' s face, however, went from arrogant anger to pure, unadulterated rage. My dismissal, my utter indifference to a symbol he thought held so much power over me, was something he couldn't handle. It was a direct challenge to his ego.

"You bitch," he snarled.

His hand that was holding my wrist balled into a fist. Before I could even react, he swung.

It wasn't a full-blown punch, but a hard, brutal backhand slap across my face. My head snapped to the side, and a sharp, stinging pain exploded across my cheek. The force of it sent me stumbling back a step.

I tasted blood in my mouth.

The world seemed to go silent for a moment. I could feel Sarah's feigned horror and Daniel' s heavy, angry breathing.

He had never hit me in our past life. He had destroyed me with words, with emotional cruelty, with public humiliation. But he had never laid a hand on me.

This was new. This was the Daniel Sterling who was no longer pretending. This was the real man, stripped of his charming facade, revealing the ugly, violent core beneath.

And in that moment of stinging pain, I felt a strange sense of clarity. Any lingering shadow of the man I thought I loved was gone, burned away by the fire on my cheek.