Chapter 1

I was just a human with no connection to the vampire world, until I met Adrian, a vampire noble, at an art gallery.

We fell in love at first sight. To marry him, I defied my father and cut ties with my family.

Everyone envied me for becoming Adrian’s only human wife, showered with love and affection.

But after the wedding, I realized that so-called love was just another form of imprisonment.

He wouldn’t let me work, wouldn’t let me leave the house, wouldn’t let me attend vampire gatherings.

He wanted me to stay obediently in his castle, waiting for him to come home, doing as I was told.

And his vampire assistant, Celeste, controlled my every expense under the guise of looking after me.

She said that as a human, I was too fragile, too willful, and only ever caused trouble for Adrian.

Adrian never once disagreed.

Then one night, I stumbled into a vampire hospital, covered in blood.

The doctor said the baby could still be saved.

But I had no money, and no way to prove I was Mrs. Blackwood.

I called Adrian, but the person who answered was Celeste.

Through the phone, I heard Adrian’s cold, weary voice.

“Don’t bother with her. She’s just putting on an act again.”

After I lost the baby, I put the divorce papers in front of him.

Adrian thought I was just throwing another tantrum.

But what he didn’t know was that the moment I lost our child, there was no chance left for us.

Chapter 1

Elena’s POV

The rain had been falling all night.

Blackwood Castle never saw daylight, and the raindrops pounding against the windows kept me from sleep.

I curled up at the edge of the bed, my hands pressed hard against my lower abdomen, the pain so severe I could barely breathe.

No footsteps outside my door.

No one was coming.

Adrian hadn’t been home in half a month.

The last time I saw him, we had a terrible fight that ended with both of us furious.

That day, I had just retrieved a letter from Celeste, one that had already been opened.

The letter was from a gallery in the human world.

They were inviting me to an art exhibition, even asking if I’d be willing to bring a few of my older pieces.

It was the first invitation I’d received from an old friend since the wedding.

I took the letter to Adrian, asking him why my personal mail had gone through Celeste’s hands first.

Celeste stood behind him, her expression gentle and innocent as always.

“Mrs. Blackwood is human. She doesn’t understand the dangers of the vampire world.”

“I was simply checking the letter first for anything concerning on Mr. Blackwood’s behalf.”

Adrian looked at the letter in my hand, and his expression slowly turned cold.

He didn’t ask Celeste why she had opened my mail.

He didn’t ask me if I wanted to go.

He just said, “Elena, you are Mrs. Blackwood now.”

This wasn’t the first time we’d argued about this, but every time he brushed off my feelings, offered me jewelry and gifts as a dismissal, reminded me of my position, hoping I’d know better and keep quiet.

“This is my personal mail. If I hadn’t found it, were you never going to let me see it?”

I felt frustrated and helpless, watching Adrian grow colder and more dismissive after our marriage, even annoyed by me, and there was nothing I could do about it.

The next second, his eyes darkened.

“You still want to go out and do that lowly work?”

Those words were like a needle driven into my ear.

I looked at him, barely able to believe this was the same man who had once stood at the gallery entrance and praised my artwork.

But he just stared at me coldly.

“The vampire world is too dangerous for you.”

“You’re just a human. You shouldn’t go out, don’t belong at banquets, and you shouldn’t be interacting with those kinds of people.”

Behind Adrian, I clearly saw Celeste slowly curl her lips into a smug smile.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I slammed the letter down on the table.

But he just frowned, as if my defiance had finally exhausted his patience.

“Why can you never understand?”

“I’m protecting you.”

After that, he put down his napkin and left the castle.

For the better part of a month, he didn’t come back.

The way the servants looked at me had long since shifted from silence to contempt.

They had never liked me.

In their eyes, I was nothing more than a short-lived, fragile, troublesome human.

An outsider who had stumbled into the position of Mrs. Blackwood because Adrian had a fleeting lapse in judgment.

I couldn’t stomach the food in the castle.

The porridge they brought was always cold.

A film of congealed grease floated on the soup.

The bread was hard as stone.

The so-called human meals were thrown together from some recipe they’d found somewhere, then placed in front of me without a second thought.

Only the dessert was always perfect.

Silky cream, beautifully dusted sugar.

Not a single crumb out of place on the plate.

Because that was the only human food Adrian had ever liked.

Back when we were still dating, he’d tried it at a bakery in the human district and thought it was good, so he started taking me there too.

I never actually liked overly sweet things.

But that day, for once, he acted like an ordinary man, pushing something he liked across the table to share with me.

So I smiled and said it was delicious.

After the wedding, everyone in the castle assumed it was my favorite.

I told them many times that I wanted hotter porridge, lighter soup.

The servants bowed their heads and agreed, then turned around and left the same cold trays at my door.

Once, I mentioned this to Adrian.

Celeste was there too.

She stood behind him, her voice so gentle it was bulletproof.

“Mrs. Blackwood is human. Her appetite is naturally hard to please.”

“The kitchen has done its best.”

“Perhaps she just misses going out so much that everything here seems lacking.”

Adrian looked at me, a slight furrow between his brows.

“Elena, don’t always assume the worst about everyone.”

From then on, no matter how I tried to tell him about my suffering, his eyes were always full of doubt.

“Don’t bother putting on an act for me, Elena.”

“You’re already my wife. When are you going to learn to be graceful and composed instead of constantly throwing tantrums?”

That was when I should have understood.

In this castle, not even my husband would take my side.

The pain twisted through my lower abdomen again.

I gripped the edge of the bed and pulled myself upright, but after just two steps, I felt a sudden warmth between my legs.

I looked down and saw blood dripping from the hem of my nightgown onto the carpet.

One drop.

Then another.

A blinding red.

My mind went blank for an instant, and then I staggered to the door, pounding on it.

“Someone, help!”

“Get me a doctor!”

The hallway was quiet.

I heard a faint rustling from the servants’ quarters next door, but no one opened their door.

I pressed the call bell on the wall.

It rang for a long time before it stopped on its own.

No response.

I stumbled downstairs and grabbed the night driver by the sleeve.

“Take me to the hospital.”

The driver kept his head down, unable to meet my eyes.

“Ma’am, without orders from Adrian or Celeste, I can’t drive the car.”

“But my stomach hurts so much...”

My voice shook so badly it didn’t sound like my own.

He was silent for a few seconds, then said only this:

“Adrian gave instructions that if you were just being difficult, we shouldn’t disturb him.”

In that moment, I almost laughed.

This wasn’t the first time they had stonewalled me, but even when I told Adrian, nothing changed.

When he had loved me, he’d promised to protect me, to love and cherish me, even though I was just a human.

Now he was tired of me, convinced I was nothing but an endless source of trouble. All because I was just a human.

I didn’t beg the driver again.

I gritted my teeth through the pain and climbed out through a second-floor window.

Chapter 2

Elena’s POV

The rain was freezing.

The stone steps were ice-cold.

I ran out of the estate barefoot, blood running down my legs.

Every step felt like a knife carving into my abdomen.

I didn’t know how long I ran before I finally saw the lights of the vampire hospital in the wealthy district.

The receptionist’s face changed when she saw me.

Maybe because this was the wealthy district, and a woman showing up in the middle of the night drenched in blood likely meant a noble family was involved.

They didn’t turn me away right away. Instead, they wheeled me into the emergency room.

Cold white light shone down on my face.

After the examination, the doctor’s expression was grave.

“You’re pregnant. The baby isn’t full-term yet.”

I froze, remembering that after Adrian had left home that day, my stomach had been bothering me for a long time.

He continued immediately, “The baby is in very bad shape right now.”

“If we begin treatment immediately, there’s still a chance to save the baby, and you won’t sustain too much lasting damage.”

My fingers dug into the sheets.

A baby.

I hadn’t even known I was pregnant.

I hadn’t even had time to know this tiny life existed before I was about to lose it.

The nurse quickly brought over paperwork, asking me to pay the deposit and confirm my identity.

The treatment required noble-class vampire medical resources and authorization from a spouse or clan.

My voice came out hoarse. “I’m Adrian Blackwood’s wife.”

The nurse glanced at me.

It was a light glance, but it scraped across my face like a blade.

I knew what I looked like.

Soaking wet hair.

A nightgown stained with blood.

No shoes on my feet.

A face so pale I looked worse than a blood slave who’d just escaped from an underground auction.

Nothing like the rumored human wife that Adrian kept in his castle, treasured like a jewel.

She asked me for the Blackwood family pass, a private seal, anything at all that could prove who I was.

I had none of it.

Because those things had never been in my hands.

All I could do was borrow a phone and call Adrian.

The phone rang for a long time.

The person who answered was Celeste.

“Mrs. Blackwood?”

Her voice was perfectly calm, even carrying a faint trace of amusement.

“What’s the matter now?”

I gripped the phone, the pain so intense my vision was going black.

“Let Adrian answer. I’m at the hospital. The baby... the baby is in danger. I need him to confirm my identity.”

The other end of the line went quiet for a moment.

Then I heard her rise from her chair.

She didn’t hang up.

I clearly heard her walk over to Adrian’s side, her voice deliberately low.

“Adrian, your wife ran off again.”

“She says she’s at a hospital, something about a baby.”

“She’s probably just trying to guilt you into coming home.”

I held my breath.

I thought that at least this once, he would listen to me.

But the next second, I heard Adrian’s voice.

Flat.

And exhausted.

“Don’t bother with her.”

“She’s just putting on an act again.”

The call ended.

I held the receiver as the strength drained from my fingers, one bit at a time.

The nurse stood beside me, the last of her patience gone.

I had no money for a deposit.

No proof of identity.

They lifted me off the emergency bed and walked me out, deaf to my pleas.

The doctor frowned, as if he wanted to say something more, but in the end, he just looked away.

When they put me out of the hospital, it was still raining.

The pain in my abdomen suddenly surged so violently that I collapsed onto the steps.

I pressed my hands over my lower belly. Blood soaked through my clothes, seeping between my fingers and running down the freezing stone steps.

The doctor had just said the baby could still be saved.

But now, no one was going to save him.

And no one was going to save me.

I sat in the darkness outside the vampire hospital and finally understood something.

From the day I severed ties with my family and insisted on marrying into the vampire world, I had been wrong.

My father had warned me: “vampires would never love a human with true equality or respect.”

Adrian didn’t believe the servants were really mistreating me.

Didn’t believe I really couldn’t eat the cold food, that my body was wasting away day by day.

In his eyes, I was probably just a human wife who’d been spoiled and grown less and less obedient.

What he liked was never me.

It was the version of me who sat quietly by the gallery window, smiling at him, following his plans, and never fighting back.

The rain washed over my face.

I didn’t know how I managed to stand.

I only knew that from this moment on, I would never wait for Adrian to come home again.

Chapter 3

Elena’s POV

By the time I made it back to the Blackwood estate, it was nearly the next morning.

The rain had stopped.

But my nightgown was still wet, the blood and rainwater stuck together, and with each step, something ice-cold seemed to seep into my bones.

The guard at the gate stared at me for a second.

Then he quickly lowered his gaze, as if he hadn’t seen a thing.

No one asked where I had been.

No one asked why I was covered in blood.

Every servant here was a vampire, and they all knew that Adrian’s promise to turn me had never been kept.

He was always waiting for the right moment. Waiting for me to bear a half-blood heir first. Waiting for me to be more obedient, more sensible.

Even that deeply sworn promise from before the wedding became something he casually wielded as leverage whenever we fought.

I pressed my hand against the wall and walked back to my bedroom, one step at a time.

The lights in the hallway were dim.

The old portraits on the walls stared down at me like rows of cold, indifferent eyes.

They were all watching me.

Watching this wretched human who had no place in the Blackwood family.

I didn’t know how many times I blacked out.

When I woke, the sky was still gray.

The Blackwood estate never saw true sunlight.

There was no morning here, only endless cold, clammy fog.

I lay at the edge of the bed, my hand resting on my abdomen.

It was empty.

Just yesterday, I had learned that a tiny life was growing there.

And now, it was gone.

The doctor said there had been a chance.

That sentence echoed in my head over and over.

If I’d had money.

If I’d had my own proof of identity in this world of endless night.

If Adrian had just listened to me for one more second.

But there were no ifs.

I waited for him all day.

I thought that after the phone call from the hospital, he would at least come back to check.

Even if it was only to question me, to ask why I had gone out again, why I had lied.

But nothing.

He didn’t come back.

The servants delivered meals as usual.

Cold porridge, bread dried to the point of cracking, and that same perfectly crafted dessert, so exquisite it was almost an insult.

I didn’t touch any of it.

On the third day, I burned with fever, slipping in and out of consciousness.

Someone pushed the door open, set down a meal tray, and left just as quickly.

I heard two maids whispering outside my door.

“She’s not eating again?”

“Adrian isn’t here, so of course she’s making a scene.”

“Humans are such a hassle. The slightest thing goes wrong and they fake being sick.”

One of them laughed.

“Celeste said not to indulge her too much.”

“Besides, Adrian hates it most when she uses her body to guilt-trip him.”

Their footsteps faded.

I stared up at the dark canopy above the bed.

So even when I was this sick, all they saw was an act.

By the fifth day, the smell of blood in the room had finally faded.

The servants cleaned my room meticulously, restoring everything to its original state, as if I hadn’t nearly died here.

It hit me then that Adrian was never going to come back on his own.

As long as I refused to back down, refused to apologize, refused to let Celeste pass along the message that I knew I was wrong, he could leave me here indefinitely.

It had always been like this.

Every time we argued, I was the one who gave in first.

Time didn’t pass equally between a human and a vampire. He had eternity and absolute power, so he could simply wait, patient and unhurried, until I couldn’t take it anymore and surrendered.

But I couldn’t keep this up forever.

Because I loved him. Because the past had been so beautiful that I always held on to hope, always told myself this was all just a misunderstanding.

I would write to him, saying I had been too impulsive, begging him to forgive me.

I would wait for him at the end of the hallway when he came back.

Then he would pat my head and say, “Don’t be so willful next time.”

Back then, I thought that was reconciliation.

Now I understood it was just him testing my limits, over and over again.

On the seventh day, I finally changed my clothes and went downstairs.

I wore an old dress.

Not one of the lavish gowns the Blackwood family had prepared.

It was plain, with faded cuffs, but at least it was mine.

I walked to the garage. The driver saw me and immediately blocked the car door.

“Ma’am, where are you going?”

“To see Adrian.”

The driver lowered his head.

“Mr. Blackwood is very busy.”

I looked at him.

“It’s urgent.”

He was quiet for a moment, but still didn’t move aside.

“Adrian gave instructions that if you were just being difficult, we shouldn’t disturb him.”

That same line again.

I had heard it for seven days.

From the hospital to the estate.

From the servants to the driver.

Every last one of them had memorized that single sentence on Adrian’s behalf.

I didn’t argue.

I turned around, went back to my room, and dialed Adrian’s private number.

The phone rang for a long time.

The person who answered was, once again, Celeste.

“Mrs. Blackwood?”

Her voice was even calmer than that night.

“You’ve finally decided to reach out to Adrian?”

I gripped the phone.

My fingertips were ice-cold.

“Let Adrian answer.”

She laughed softly.

“Adrian is very busy right now. If you’re just going to fake being sick or lie again, I’d suggest waiting until he’s in a better mood.”

She said it so lightly, reducing my desperate plea that night to nothing more than lies and theatrics.

As if she hadn’t been the one who heard me begging for help on the phone.

As if I wasn’t the one who had been thrown out of the hospital and lost a child.

A sharp sting pierced my chest, but all I could do in the end was let out a bitter laugh. I lowered my eyes and saw the papers on the desk.

The divorce agreement I had written, little by little, over these seven days.

I said, “Tell him this time I won’t lie, and I won’t fake being sick.”

The other end of the line went quiet.

I continued, “I’m filing for divorce.”

When the words left my mouth, I was calmer than I expected.

I didn’t cry.

My voice didn’t shake.

I didn’t even feel a trace of hatred.

I was simply exhausted.

I was too exhausted to love him for one more second, and it felt draining, repulsive.

Celeste finally went silent.

After a long pause, I heard rapid footsteps.

Then Adrian snatched the phone.

His voice was low, laced with restrained displeasure.

“Elena.”

“What did you just say?”

I looked out the window at the perpetually overcast sky.

I repeated, word by word, “I want a divorce.”

Silence on the other end.

That was the first time I had ever said this word to him.

No matter how wronged I’d felt before, how hurt, I had never thought about leaving.

I always believed that if I just waited a little longer, he would remember the way he used to look at me in the gallery.

Would remember promising me my own studio.

Would remember that I was his wife, not a pet locked up in this estate, waiting for him to decide my fate.

But the night our baby died, I finally knew.

He wouldn’t. He never would.

Adrian finally spoke.

“Stay home and wait for me.”

His voice was cold and tight.

“I’m coming back right now.”

After he hung up, I sat at the desk and smoothed out the last page of the divorce agreement.

Half an hour later, I heard a car pull up below.

Rapid footsteps crossed the great hall and stopped outside my bedroom door.

The door swung open.

Adrian stood there, his expression dark.

His gaze fell on me.

I had already changed my clothes and burned everything stained with blood.

The room smelled of nothing but herbs and cold water.

He couldn’t detect even a trace of blood.

And he would never know how I had survived these seven days.

His eyes swept over my ashen face, then landed on the papers on the desk.

His brow tightened immediately.

“You made yourself look like this just to force me home?”

I looked at him.

In that moment, I didn’t even have disappointment left.

He didn’t ask why I was so thin.

Didn’t ask what had happened at the hospital that night.

He simply thought I was lying again, faking sickness to manipulate him, using my own body as a weapon to make him give in.

In Adrian’s eyes, I was just being “unreasonable” once again.

I picked up the divorce agreement and pushed it in front of him.

“Sign it, Adrian.”

His face went cold.

“Do you even know what you’re saying?”

I nodded.

“I do.”

Then Celeste’s voice came from behind him.

“Adrian.”

I looked up and realized she had come too.

She stood in the doorway, still holding Adrian’s gloves.

As natural and comfortable as if she were the lady of the house.

It dawned on me that on the way here, she must have already explained everything to him many times over.

Explained how willful I was.

How I was throwing a tantrum.

How I was using divorce to force him into submission.

Adrian didn’t ask her to leave.

He just stared at me, his voice cold as a blade.

“Elena, has my indulgence made you forget your place?”

I smiled faintly.

“No.”

I had simply remembered.

Being Mrs. Blackwood had never given me a single moment of warmth.

Chapter 4

Elena’s POV

Adrian’s expression turned to ice in that instant.

The room was silent.

So silent I could hear water droplets falling from the eaves outside.

He looked at me, his eyes full of weariness and irritation.

“What good does it do you, carrying on like this?”

“Why can’t you just be reasonable?”

“I’ve told you, I’m protecting you.”

I had heard this speech countless times.

And believed it countless times.

But that night, when the blade that had only ever been used as a threat finally cut into flesh, when I truly lost a child, I realized that the pain was real.

And that I had been hurt in this marriage all along.

Celeste stood by the door, her gaze lowered, her voice soft, the picture of reasonableness.

I knew she resented me behind closed doors.

If she had been born into nobility, the title of Mrs. Blackwood might have gone to her.

But instead, it had landed in my hands. A human’s hands.

“Mrs. Blackwood, you’re not well right now, and your emotions aren’t stable.”

“Divorce is not something you should use as a threat.”

“It would be best to wait until you’ve calmed down.”

I didn’t look at her.

Her words were always unimpeachable.

But every sentence painted me as the unreasonable villain.

I just looked at Adrian.

“I’m perfectly calm right now.”

He scoffed.

“Calm enough to have divorce papers ready?”

I nodded.

“Yes.”

He stared at the papers on the desk, making no move to reach for them.

“Who helped you write this?”

“I wrote it myself.”

Adrian looked up at me.

For the first time, something else flickered in his eyes.

Not sympathy.

More like surprise.

He had probably never imagined I would have the nerve to draft divorce papers on my own.

In his mind, I ought to be nothing more than an obedient wife, a human who couldn’t even step outside without his approval.

An accessory who couldn’t survive without him.

I pushed the papers closer to him.

“Don’t worry. I don’t want anything.”

“The Blackwood jewelry, the gowns, the properties, the servants. I want none of it.”

“I’ll leave with nothing. Just let me go.”

Adrian’s jaw clenched.

“Do you have any idea what you’re saying?”

“I do.”

“Do you know what leaving Blackwood means?”

His voice dropped lower, notch by notch.

“You’re a human.”

“In the vampire world, you have a target on your back.”

“Without my name, without my protection, you might not even survive tonight.”

Listening to those familiar words, I suddenly found them laughable.

This again.

He wouldn’t let me attend gatherings because I was human.

Wouldn’t let me work, wouldn’t let me paint, wouldn’t let me see people. All because I was human.

Now he wouldn’t let me divorce him, still because I was human.

He always had a reason.

He locked me in a cage, stripped away every shred of my dignity, and then told me he was protecting me.

I gave a small laugh.

“Then let me die out there.”

Adrian’s pupils contracted.

He finally took a step forward.

“Elena.”

I stepped back.

His hand froze in midair.

I saw his fingertips go rigid for a moment before he slowly pulled them back.

Celeste spoke up gently. “Mrs. Blackwood, why say such things out of spite?”

“Adrian has given you so much.”

“You live in the Blackwood estate, you wear the finest clothes, and your jewelry is the most expensive money can buy.”

“So many people would envy you.”

I turned to face her.

That perfectly calibrated look of concern was still on her face.

But I remembered her voice on the phone.

Remembered her telling Adrian I had run off again.

Remembered her saying I was just trying to guilt him into coming home, that I was lying.

I remembered the hospital lights too.

Remembered the doctor saying the baby could still be saved.

But now, I no longer wanted to lay all of this out for Adrian to hear.

I was too tired.

Too tired to keep proving myself, too tired to keep defending myself, and too tired to face those half-believing, half-doubting eyes of his.

I simply said, “I don’t want this life everyone else envies. Is that okay?”

“I want a divorce.”

“Even if I die out there, it doesn’t matter.”

“This is my choice, and it has nothing to do with you.”

Adrian’s face darkened to something terrifying.

“I am your husband.”

I looked at him calmly.

“Not for much longer.”

The air seemed to split at that sentence.

Adrian stared at me, his gaze so cold it had no warmth left in it.

“You think threatening me with divorce will make me let you go out and do those degrading jobs?”

“You think starving yourself like this will make me give in?”

I watched him say every word.

When he finished, I felt nothing at all.

So this was how he saw things. My seven days of silence, weakness, and desperation were nothing more than a calculated scheme.

He didn’t believe I was really in pain.

Didn’t believe I really couldn’t eat.

Didn’t believe I truly wanted to leave him.

He was convinced I was faking illness, staging a hunger strike, using my near-collapse to guilt him into softening.

I spoke. “I’m not threatening you.”

“I don’t love you anymore.”

Adrian’s face finally changed.

It wasn’t anger.

Or at least, not only anger.

Something I couldn’t decipher flashed through his eyes.

Maybe fear.

But I had no desire to read him anymore, and I refused to trust him again only to have my heart shattered one more time.

Soon, Celeste’s voice chimed in again.

“Adrian, she’s just emotional right now.”

“She has never actually left you.”

“She’s never experienced real hardship out there.”

“The more you indulge her, the less she’ll understand what’s truly good for her.”

Her tone was gentle and humble as she offered her counsel.

But I could hear it clearly. She wanted nothing more than to see me thrown out and then forced to slink back in disgrace.

Adrian didn’t tell her to be quiet.

He just looked down at the divorce agreement, his lips slowly twisting into a cold curve.

“Enough,” he said.

“This ends here.”

He didn’t pick up a pen.

He didn’t even read the agreement properly.

He simply lifted the pages off the desk and tossed them aside.

The papers scattered across the carpet.

Like every plea I’d made over the past three years, cut short before I could finish.

I looked at the papers on the floor and didn’t move.

Adrian pinched the bridge of his nose, as if his patience had finally run out.

“What do you want?”

“The exhibition?”

“To go outside?”

“Or are you still angry because Celeste intercepted your letter?”

Celeste immediately ducked her head, her tone pitiful and apologetic.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Blackwood. I overstepped.”

“I was just worried the letter might contain something harmful.”

Adrian didn’t scold her.

He just said flatly, “Don’t open her mail without permission next time.”

One sentence.

Light as air.

My personal letters intercepted.

My gallery invitation confiscated.

A fight that drove him from the house.

Half a month of absence.

During those weeks, I had a miscarriage, cried out for help to no response, and lost our child.

Yet all it amounted to was a casual “Don’t open her mail without permission next time.”

I suddenly realized that hating him wasn’t even worth the effort.

Adrian looked at me.

“I’ll make it up to you.”

He gestured.

A servant soon brought in a black velvet box.

Inside was a red ruby necklace.

Vivid color.

Flawless cut.

Obviously worth a fortune.

Once, I might have wondered if he was finally willing to make amends.

But now, all I could think of was the deposit slip at the hospital.

The nurse asking for money, and my empty hands.

The doctor said the baby still had a chance.

When I needed money most, I hadn’t had a single dollar.

But now, he was using a ruby necklace to tell me the matter was closed.

He was the one who hadn’t come home for weeks, and he was the one who decided when the argument was over. I had never had any say in it.

Adrian pushed the box toward me.

“Take it.”

“Stop making a scene.”

I looked at the jewelry and said quietly, “I don’t want it.”

His brow creased.

“Then what do you want?”

I answered, “A divorce.”

This time, he didn’t get angry. He simply pretended he hadn’t heard me.

He turned and instructed a servant, “Prepare dinner.”

“Bring her favorite dessert.”

Then he looked at me again.

“Isn’t this what you wanted, starving yourself until I came back?”

“I’m back now.”

“Eat.”

I watched him dismiss my words once again.

Just as he had never listened when I said the cold porridge was unbearable, when I said the servants treated me with contempt, when I said I wanted to paint, to work, to go outside.

He only heard what he wanted to hear.

In his world, I was a pet who’d made enough of a fuss and needed to be coaxed back into the cage.

Dinner arrived quickly.

The dessert was placed front and center.

Silky cream, beautiful sugar, as exquisite as a piece of art.

The porridge beside it was barely lukewarm, the bowl already cool to the touch.

I picked up the spoon and brought it to my lips.

My stomach lurched immediately.

I turned my head, nearly gagging.

Adrian’s expression cooled for an instant.

“Now you won’t even eat?”

Celeste said softly, “She hasn’t eaten much at all these past few days.”

“Perhaps she was waiting for you to come back.”

I closed my eyes.

This again.

She could always turn my real, undeniable pain into nothing but a performance.

Adrian nudged the dessert toward me.

“Eat this.”

“You used to love it, didn’t you?”

I looked at the dessert.

Then a bitter smirk crossed my face.

“I’ve never liked that.”

Adrian’s hand stopped.

I saw a flash of confusion in his eyes.

But just as quickly, he frowned again.

“Everything you say right now is just out of spite. I’m not going to argue with you.”

I didn’t explain.

Because he wouldn’t believe me.

And because I no longer needed him to.

That night, he didn’t bring up the divorce agreement.

He didn’t ask about the hospital.

And he didn’t ask why I was so thin.

He just left the ruby set behind.

Placed the dessert on my nightstand.

Then said, “When you’ve calmed down, we’ll talk.”

After the door closed, the room went quiet again.

I bent down and picked up the divorce papers from the floor, one page at a time.

Some of them were creased.

But the words were still there.

I smoothed them out and tucked them back into the drawer.

I hadn’t given up.

Instead, I quietly steeled my resolve once more.

I was going to leave this place.

I would never give him the chance to dismiss my leaving as just another tantrum.

Chapter 5

Elena’s POV

Over the next few days, Adrian acted as if nothing had happened.

He returned to the estate.

He started showing up for meals on time.

An outsider would probably assume we had made up.

The master of the Blackwood household had finally come home.

His human wife had finally stopped making trouble.

At dinner, he would sit at the other end of the long table and occasionally ask, “How much did you eat today?”

His tone could even pass for gentle.

But every time I looked up at him, all I felt was a stranger staring back.

I realized that after losing the baby, I had also lost the illusion. I could no longer find even a trace of love in his cold expression and his rigid, distant manner.

He was just checking to see if I had gone back to being a wife who ate her meals quietly, stayed put, and wouldn’t bother him with divorce talk again.

The porridge the servants brought was still cold.

The soup still had that nauseating, fishy taste.

But the dessert appeared every single day.

Sometimes on a different plate.

Sometimes with different decoration.

But the taste was always the same.

Cloyingly sweet.

So sweet it reminded me of our first date, when Adrian pushed it across the table, his eyes carrying a glint of novelty.

He said, “As far as human food goes, this one’s actually interesting.”

Looking at him then, I had thought it endearing that even a lofty vampire could be clumsy about sharing something he liked.

So I ate it.

Smiled and said it was delicious.

I hadn’t known then that one careless compliment would trap me for three years.

Now, everyone in the estate believed this dessert was my favorite.

Only I knew that every time I forced it down, it was because this one dish that the master of the house happened to like was the only thing on the table I could stomach.

That evening at dinner, I managed half a sip of the porridge.

My stomach heaved instantly.

I set down the spoon.

Adrian looked up, leisurely sipping blood from his wine glass.

“Not eating again?”

I said nothing.

He watched me for a long time, his expression slowly turning colder.

“Elena, how much longer are you going to keep this up?”

I lifted my head.

“I can’t eat.”

“You didn’t used to be like this.”

“Used to?”

I looked at him, suddenly finding those words absurd.

I used to force down that dessert, used to pick through the cold porridge for a few bites I could swallow.

I used to suppress every discomfort just so he’d still look at me with some tenderness when he came home, enough to carry me through these endless nights.

But none of that was because I liked it, and it certainly had nothing to do with being a dutiful wife.

I had simply been enduring.

“I don’t like the dessert.”

I turned to look at Adrian.

Adrian frowned.

“You ate it every single time.”

I smiled flatly. “Because it was your favorite.”

He went silent for a moment.

I saw a flicker of hesitation in his eyes.

But the hesitation was quickly swallowed by impatience.

“Now you want to fight about this too?”

I set down my napkin.

“I’m not fighting.”

“I’m just telling you I don’t like the dessert.”

He didn’t respond.

The dining room was suffocatingly quiet.

After a long pause, Adrian said, “Then what do you like?”

I looked at him.

In that moment, I couldn’t answer.

Three years of marriage, and he had finally asked me what I liked.

But it came at the very moment I no longer wanted to answer.

I stood and left the dining room.

Behind me, Celeste murmured, “Mrs. Blackwood really has changed a lot lately.”

“She never used to embarrass you like this.”

Adrian said nothing.

I didn’t know what expression was on his face.

And I didn’t want to glance back.

I went back upstairs and passed the locked door at the end of the hallway.

That was the studio Adrian had promised me.

The first year, he said the light in the vampire castle wasn’t right for human painting, and the windows needed to be redone.

The second year, he said the materials in the estate were harmful to a human body and would interfere with my chances of conceiving, so everything had to be re-screened.

The third year, he said I should focus on settling into my role as Mrs. Blackwood first, and the studio could wait.

Every single time, he said he was working on it.

Every single time, I believed him, even blaming myself sometimes for being too much trouble.

I stopped in front of the door and reached out to push it.

Locked.

No light inside.

I pressed my face to the crack and smelled nothing but dust and old wood.

This was the studio he had promised me.

A room that was always locked.

A lie that could always be held over me to keep me in line.

I went back to my room and opened my sketchbook.

Only a few old drawings remained.

All from before the wedding.

The edges of the paper had yellowed.

But the charcoal lines were still sharp.

I traced the outline of that damaged sculpture with my fingertip.

It was what I’d been drawing the first time Adrian saw me.

He had stood at the gallery entrance and watched for a long time.

He said my lines seemed to have a soul.

That line once made me believe he truly saw me.

Now I realized he had probably just fallen in love with the quiet human girl sitting by the window, pretty and focused and incapable of defiance.

Late that night, Adrian came to my room.

He didn’t knock.

In his view, I was his wife.

My room, my body, my time, all belonged to him.

He walked up behind me and saw the sketchbook in my hands.

“Looking at those again?”

I closed the book.

“These are my drawings.”

“I know.”

His tone was flat.

“When you’re feeling better, I’ll have someone get the studio ready.”

I looked at him.

“When?”

He paused for a moment.

“Soon.”

Soon. Again.

I had been hearing that for three years.

I said, “Adrian, you don’t actually care.”

His brow furrowed.

“If I didn’t care, would I have promised to build you a studio?”

His expression darkened.

“Do you really have to fight me over something this small?”

Small.

My art.

My work. The talent I had once made a living from.

My letters, my taste in food, even my reasons for wanting a divorce.

In his eyes, none of it seemed to matter.

The only thing that mattered was whether I was obedient, whether I listened to him, whether I submitted.

He stepped closer and reached for my shoulder.

I flinched away instinctively.

His hand stopped in midair.

The temperature in the room seemed to drop all at once.

“Elena.”

His voice dropped low.

“Now you won’t even let me touch you?”

I didn’t look at him.

“I’m tired.”

“You never used to turn me away.”

I let out a quiet laugh.

Again with “used to.”

I used to think submission meant being loved.

That when he came to me, it was because he genuinely wanted me.

Now I finally understood. What he liked was only my obedience.

He liked me with my head bowed, obedient.

Liked me afraid.

Liked having me depend on him entirely in his world.

I said, “Now I do.”

Adrian’s breath hitched for an instant.

He stared at me for a long time, then coldly withdrew his hand.

“When you’ve sorted out your head, we’ll talk.”

The door closed again.

I sat on the edge of the bed and suddenly felt nothing at all.

He had left again.

Just like every time before.

As long as I refused to give in, he would walk away.

He assumed his silence and coldness would push me back to where I’d been.

But this time, I didn’t cry.

The next day, Adrian skipped breakfast.

He went to the Elder Council, but he had also learned that I’d barely eaten or drunk anything for the past two days.

Celeste brought me a new gown, saying Adrian wanted me to put it on and join him for dinner that evening.

The gown was beautiful.

Silver-white, studded with tiny diamonds.

Like a gilded cage.

I didn’t wear it.

I put on my old dress instead, the one I’d brought with me before the wedding.

The hem wasn’t grand enough.

But it was mine.

On the fifth evening, Adrian finally came back.

The moment he saw me, his brow furrowed.

“Why aren’t you wearing the gown I gave you?”

I placed the divorce agreement on the dinner table again.

“Because I’m not your decoration.”

His expression hardened.

I looked him in the eye and said, word by word, “Adrian.”

“This time, you have to sign.”

Chapter 6

Elena’s POV

The dining room fell silent in an instant.

Adrian looked down at the divorce agreement.

Celeste stood behind him, her expression as meek as ever.

But I saw her fingers tighten against the edge of her sleeve.

Of course she wanted me gone.

She just didn’t want me to leave with any dignity.

Better if Adrian discarded me himself, if everyone saw it as my own humiliation.

Better if I shattered the moment I walked out the door and never had the nerve to come back.

Adrian finally spoke.

“Are you done?”

I looked at him.

“No.”

His face grew colder.

I continued, “I’m not throwing a tantrum. This is the last time. No matter what happens, I am leaving.”

Celeste spoke up softly. “Mrs. Blackwood, you didn’t sleep well last night.”

“Divorce is far too important a decision to make when you’re emotional.”

I smiled faintly.

“I’ve been making this decision for days.”

“Since the night I walked out of that hospital.”

The air in the dining room seemed to freeze for an instant.

Adrian’s brow creased.

“The hospital?”

I looked at him.

There was confusion in his expression.

And a trace of impatience.

He finally remembered the phone call he had hung up on.

But I didn’t give him the chance to press further.

I no longer wanted to peel open the pain, the fear, and the despair of that night, layer by layer, just to prove it to him.

He didn’t deserve it.

I said simply, “Just sign. I want a divorce.”

His fingers curled tighter, inch by inch.

“You think you can survive out there without me?”

“Your father won’t take you back.”

“The Valeri family won’t welcome a daughter who betrayed them for a vampire.”

“The human world won’t trust you.”

“And the vampire world certainly won’t protect you.”

I listened, but the words no longer cut.

Because everything he said was true.

I had severed ties with my father for him.

Lost my family.

Lost my work and my dignity.

Even lost a child who never got the chance to be born.

I had already lost so much.

Losing Adrian didn’t seem nearly as frightening anymore.

I said, “That’s my problem.”

Adrian sneered.

“You think I’ll believe that?”

“You’ve never actually left me.”

“You’re just trying to force me to back down.”

I looked at him.

This time, I didn’t bother correcting him.

If that was what he wanted to believe, let him believe it.

If he wanted to treat my leaving as another performance, let it be a performance.

I no longer needed his understanding.

I only needed his signature.

I reached up and slid the ring off my finger.

The ring was cold as ice, my body heat never enough to warm it.

The Blackwood ruby glinted, but now all I felt was the glare.

When he had placed it on my finger, he’d told me, “From this day forward, I will protect you. You will always be my treasured wife.”

I had cried so hard that day.

I thought I had truly found a home that would last forever.

Now I set the ring down beside the agreement and laughed at how foolish I had been.

“Adrian.”

“I don’t need your protection anymore.”

His expression finally changed.

He stared at the ring for a long time without moving.

Then Celeste spoke up softly. “Adrian, perhaps you really should let her go out and clear her head for a few days.”

“Once she’s outside the Blackwood estate, she’ll understand how safe it was here.”

“She’ll figure out soon enough who truly had her best interests at heart.”

Adrian didn’t look at her.

But he didn’t argue, either.

I watched his silence, and the last trace of warmth inside me went out.

He was still the same.

Even at the very end, he needed Celeste to find him a graceful exit.

Then Adrian picked up the pen.

I saw his knuckles go white from the pressure.

Adrian Blackwood.

When the last letter was done, he threw the pen onto the table.

“Happy now?”

I looked at that signature.

I had once believed that name would carry me into eternity.

Now it was just proof that a marriage had ended.

I folded the agreement and put it in my bag.

Aside from the agreement, the bag held only a few old clothes, a sketchbook, and a pen my father had given me.

Three years married into the Blackwood family.

And what I could take with me didn’t even fill a single bag.

Adrian watched me, his voice cold as ice.

“Elena.”

I stopped.

I didn’t look back.

He said, “You’ll regret this.”

I gave a quiet laugh.

“The only thing I regret is not listening to my father.”

Complete silence behind me.

I didn’t wait for his answer.

I just pulled my suitcase through the long hallway.

Celeste’s voice was barely a whisper. “Let her go, Adrian.”

“She’ll realize soon enough where she belongs.”

Adrian didn’t respond.

Before, if he had called my name just once, I would have stopped.

If he had walked away with a cold face, I would have been the first to apologize.

But this time, I tightened my grip on the suitcase handle, and the front door of the estate closed behind me.

I didn’t look back.

I pulled my suitcase down the road, step by step, toward the human quarter.

By the time the sky began to lighten, I reached the Valeri family compound.

The guard saw me and nearly drew his gun in shock.

I stood at the entrance, freezing, my voice so hoarse it didn’t sound like my own.

“Tell my father.”

“Elena is home.”

A long time passed before the gate opened.

My father stood inside.

Three years apart, he looked older than I remembered, and quieter.

His gaze traveled from my face to the suitcase in my hand, then to my hands, so pale they were nearly bloodless.

He said, “Did Adrian Blackwood finally break you?”

I lowered my head.

The tears finally came.

“Dad.”

“I was wrong.”

My father didn’t speak right away.

I took the divorce agreement from my bag and handed it to him.

“If you’ll still have me.”

“I’m willing to start over from the very bottom.”

My father studied me for a long time.

In the end, he sighed, patted my head, and stepped aside to let me through.

That night, Adrian was still sitting in that sunless estate.

Waiting for me to run out of options and crawl back to him on my knees.

But he didn’t know.

From the moment he signed his name, he and I were finished.

I had finally left the man I once loved enough to give up the world for.

And this time, I wasn’t turning back.