Chapter 1

I was Preston Kingsley's caged mistress, a tool he used to humiliate his ex.

For his first love, Vivienne, he cut off my father's ICU funding and forced me to kneel in the snow, searching for a ring that never existed.

Later, I became exactly what he wanted. Docile. Obedient. Silent.

Even when I was diagnosed with a terminal illness, I never said a word. I simply signed the divorce papers and vanished from his world.

Preston searched the globe like a madman, only to find a box of ashes.

They say that day, New York's most distinguished man cried like a dog who'd lost its home.

Lynn's POV

The smell of disinfectant was sharp in my nose.

The doctor stared at the report in his hands, his brow furrowed. He looked up at me.

"Didn't your family come with you?"

My fingers tightened on the hem of my shirt.

"He's busy. I can handle it myself."

The doctor sighed and handed me the paper.

"You're six weeks pregnant, but your uterine wall is very thin. Combined with your chronic malnutrition, this pregnancy... will be difficult to maintain. If you insist on keeping it, there's a risk of severe hemorrhaging."

My mind went blank.

Pregnant?

At this moment, when my relationship with Preston had hit rock bottom.

My phone screen lit up with a push notification. A news headline.

The photo showed Preston at the airport.

Even in a candid shot, the man looked refined and aloof, his black trench coat accentuating his tall frame.

And in his arms was a petite woman.

Vivienne was back.

The woman Preston couldn't forget. The woman whose single sentence, "I don't like other women around you," had subjected me to three years of cold violence..

The headline was painfully blunt: "Preston Kingsley's Late-Night Airport Pickup, Old Flames Rekindled? Sweet, Loving Gaze."

I turned off my phone, my fingertips trembling with cold.

"Doctor, this baby... let me think about it."

When I walked out of the hospital, New York's first snow of winter was falling.

The wind cut across my face like knives.

I pulled my thin coat tighter, but it couldn't block the cold seeping into my bones.

When I reached the house, I saw that familiar Maybach parked in the driveway.

Preston was home.

I pushed open the door. The warmth inside hit my face, mixed with an unfamiliar perfume.

Sweet. A cloying floral-fruit scent.

Vivienne's favorite.

Preston sat on the sofa, legs crossed, fingers holding an unlit cigarette, his expression dark and unreadable.

Hearing me enter, he lifted his eyelids and gave me a cold glance.

"Where were you?"

His voice was low, carrying an oppressive weight that made it hard to breathe.

I paused while changing my shoes, instinctively tucking the ultrasound report deeper into my bag.

"I wasn't feeling well. Went to the pharmacy."

"Not feeling well?"

Preston laughed coldly and stood, walking toward me.

He looked down at me, his long fingers gripping my chin with bruising force.

"Lynn, did you go to the pharmacy, or did you go tip off that deadbeat father of yours?"

My heart lurched. I jerked my head up to look at him.

"What do you mean?"

"What do I mean?"

Preston released my face and grabbed a document from the coffee table, throwing it at me.

The sharp edge of the paper sliced across my cheek, leaving a red mark.

"After your father went bankrupt, his mess got worse. He owes another three hundred thousand in loan shark debts. The creditors came to me, saying they're looking for Mrs. Kingsley's father, and I should pay up."

Preston's eyes were full of disgust and mockery.

"Lynn, how many holes have I filled for your family these three years? Do you think I'm an idiot, or do you think..."

He paused, his tone turning crueler.

"Do you think your broken body is worth that price?"