Chapter 1

The year Chloe's life imploded, she was sexually assaulted. Someone recorded it, then splashed the video all over the internet.

I saved her when she was about to leap from a rooftop. I stayed by her side through her darkest hours.

Five years later, she became a top lawyer and proposed to me.

But just before our wedding, the man who'd assaulted her showed up, driving a fancy sports car.

He wrapped an arm around Chloe's waist, gave her a casual, almost possessive kiss.

Then he lifted his chin toward me, a smirk on his lips.

"Thanks, man. Couldn't have asked for a better fiancée. As a reward, you can host the wedding."

My blood ran cold. I stared at Chloe.

She didn't look back. She just stared at the ground, her silence a deafening yes.

Blake's hand was still draped over Chloe's waist, a blatant claim of ownership.

I fixated on Chloe, remembering her standing on that rooftop five years ago.

"Alex," she'd said then, her voice a raw whisper, "if I'm going to live, I'll live only for you, my entire life."

Now, she leaned obediently into her attacker's embrace.

She was still wearing the wedding dress I'd designed for her myself.

Blake then pulled a stack of photos from his jacket pocket and flung them at my face.

They were all intimate photos of him and Chloe in a hotel room.

On the big hotel bed, Chloe wore a sexy slip dress, her face contorted into an expression of raw desire I'd never seen, kissing Blake passionately.

My mind exploded, a deafening roar in my ears.

I remembered last night.

Chloe, who rarely drank, had gotten completely wasted.

The moment she got home, she started kissing me, more fiercely, more desperately, than ever before.

"Alex, I love you, I only love you."

She kept repeating it, as if trying to convince me, or maybe herself.

Midway through, her phone rang.

Her face went bone-white the instant she saw the caller ID, and she abruptly pushed me away.

I grabbed her arm, my voice hoarse.

"What's wrong?"

She avoided my gaze, her voice laced with panic.

"We're getting married tomorrow. I... I'm a little nervous. I just need some space."

With that, she fled the house as if escaping, and never came home that night.

It wasn't nervousness.

She was rushing to meet another man.

I bent down, picking up the photos one by one, then walked over to Chloe.

She instinctively recoiled a step.

I sneered, tearing the photos into tiny shreds.

Then, I pulled a velvet ring box from my pocket, opened it. Inside was the diamond ring I'd spent three months' salary on.

As Chloe's pupils constricted, I took two steps back and tossed it into the nearby storm drain.

Plop. The sound was like a final period mark on our five years together.

"Alex!"

Chloe's face finally went white. She screamed.

"What are you doing?!"

"What am I doing?" I echoed her words, feeling a crushing weight in my chest.

Blake stepped forward, shielding Chloe, and pointed a finger at my nose.

"Listen, punk. Don't push your luck. If you dare ruin my day, I'll make sure you don't walk out of this street."

I ignored him.

I just stared at Chloe, the girl I thought I'd pulled from hell.

But she'd never left.

She had only learned to survive in a different one, a hell of Blake's making.

I turned, reaching into my briefcase for another file.

That was my wedding gift or Chloe, prepared long in advance.

A heavy dossier of evidence: years of Blake's bullying, corporate fraud, sexual assault, and bribery.

For five years, while working multiple jobs to put her through law school, I had quietly gathered everything.

I thought, once she became a lawyer, she could personally send this monster to prison. That it would be her fresh start.

But now, she stood with the monster.

I walked straight to a police officer who was handling a minor dispute nearby, clutching the file.

I handed over the thick stack of documents.

"Officer, I'm filing a formal complaint against Blake Sterling."

I pointed at Chloe.

Chloe panicked. She lunged for the file, but an officer blocked her.

When our eyes locked, I saw no guilt but hate. After one last venomous glare, she turned and threw herself into Blake's sports car. The tires screeched, and she was gone without a look back.

Sirens wailed. I was led to a squad car.

Through the tinted window, I watched the red blur of the car carry my fiancée away until it dissolved into the dust and distance.

My bride had run off with the monster who broke her.

And on my wedding day, I found myself in handcuffs at the police station.