On the first day of our marriage, Lucas Callahan walked out in the middle of sex to go stargazing with his lover.

As he zipped up his pants, he gave me a cold warning.

"Marriages among the rich are just for show. Affection is just for show. Behind closed doors, we live our own lives."

Watching his face turn cold and unfamiliar the moment his pants were on, I didn't feel hurt. Instead, I said calmly, "It's fine if you leave. Just leave the unopened condoms behind. I'll put them to good use with someone else."

Lucas thought I was just being spiteful—no way would I dare do something so outrageous.

Until he saw the kiss marks all over my skin. That was when he finally snapped.

"Baby, let's stop playing games. Let's be faithful to each other, okay?"

To prove he meant it, he actually put on a chastity belt and handed me the key.

I took it and tossed it straight into the sea.

"Sorry," I said, "but I'm no longer interested in your body."

***

In high society, the biggest faux pas is showing up in the same outfit as someone else.

At a fancy charity event packed with the elite, I spotted a woman wearing the exact same dress as me.

She had a hot figure, a 36D chest, and that unmistakable factory-finish look—clearly the result of way too much plastic surgery.

Marilyn Nissim. Lucas's new secretary. And his pet canary.

There was no way that was an accident. She was obviously trying to provoke me.

I did not want to stoop to her level, so I turned away and ordered a glass of red wine, sipping slowly.

However, she just could not help herself and sauntered over.

"Mrs. Callahan, a personal secretary handles all affairs, literally. You should understand what kind of relationship that means, right?

"Mr. Callahan just can't get enough of me—three times a night isn't even enough. Has he ever been that addicted to your body?"

She made a point to straighten her obviously fake silicone chest.

"Sure, wearing the same outfit isn't the end of the world, but it is awkward when the hotter one wears it better.

"Now that I've shown up, do you really still think you belong here? Why don't you step aside before it gets more embarrassing?

"Mr. Callahan said he'll leave you for me, so sooner or later, I'll be the one walking down the aisle with him."

Splash.

Red wine stained the front of her dress.

"Oops, my hand slipped."

"Ah!"

Marilyn shrieked like someone had stomped on her tail.

"Mr. Callahan! This washed-up old woman just bullied me! You have to defend me!"

Everyone's eyes turned to Lucas—dressed impeccably, but with a cold and dark expression.

Without missing a beat, Marilyn threw herself dramatically into his arms.

"Mr. Callahan, your wife is being so overbearing. She's treating me horribly!

"She ruined my dress and said I wasn't worthy of wearing the same one as her. But I only dressed like that to impress you. We women dress for those we care about. How is that a crime?"

"Of course, you've done nothing wrong."

Lucas wrapped his arms around her as he comforted her, but when he looked at me, his voice turned sharp and cutting.

"Natasha, you really let me down.

"Jealousy doesn't suit you.

"Apologize to Marilyn right now!

"I can't stand women who get petty over nothing!"

His friends all joined in, criticizing me for not having the grace expected of a proper wife.

In upper-class circles, it is not considered shameful for a man to have mistresses as it is actually seen as proof of his power and prestige.

As the lawfully wedded wife, you are expected to be understanding and supportive.

No drama, no tantrums.

Otherwise, you are seen as uncultured and unfit to be part of a wealthy family.

Just like on our wedding night, when Lucas was halfway through a phone call made him leave without hesitation.

"Marriages among the rich are just for show.

"Affection is just for show. Behind closed doors, we each do our own thing.

"Don't get jealous or cause trouble, or you'll only embarrass yourself."

I looked at the crimson stains on the sheets and asked, my voice bitter, "Lucas, does that mean my private life can be just as casual?"

He paused, then gave me a careless smile.

"Of course. Do whatever you want. It's none of my business.

"But I know you won't. You're not that bold. Be good and stop acting childish.

"Let's face it—you won't divorce me, and we both know it."

"I told you to apologize!

"Natasha, are you deaf or just ignoring me?"

Lucas's voice rose, snapping me out of my thoughts.

He looked at me—not with love, not with respect—just with cold indifference.

Because from the start, our marriage was never built on equality.

In the world of the elite, marriage is just another business deal.

My mom died young, and my dad? A total scumbag.

He has a bunch of illegitimate kids out there, all hungry to snatch away what belongs to me and my brother.

I am not letting the company my mom poured her soul into fall into anyone else's hands.

So I needed Lucas.

With him, at least my brother and I had a shield when we went back to my mom's house.

"I'm sorry," I bit down my pride and apologized to the mistress—me, the legal wife.

"Pfft!"

Marilyn smirked smugly.

And right on cue, the crowd joined in with snide whispers and mocking glances.

My eyes stung, but I forced back the tears.

Crying now would do nothing, as no one here would feel bad for me. It would just make things worse.

"Baby, feeling better now?"

Lucas, as if he did not notice a thing, went on comforting his darling side chick.

"My dress is ruined, and she still gets to wear hers? That's just not fair!"

Marilyn pouted sweetly, and Lucas immediately caught on.

He stormed over, grabbed my collar, and yanked.

Rip!

The sound was sharp, and the fabric split open, exposing my bare shoulders and the straps of my black bra.

Gasps echoed around the room.

I bit my lip, letting tears well up, and slowly slide down my cheeks, putting on the look of someone deeply wronged.

"Lucas, I'm your wife," I said, my voice shaking.

"Do you really have to go this far?"

He just scoffed coldly, showing no hint of regret.

"You're jealous. You couldn't stand seeing Marilyn in the spotlight, so you ruined her dress? Fine.

"I won't let your little plan work. Since you're so bitter, no one gets to wear the dress. That's fair to Marilyn."

What a joke.

Do you want to stand up for your mistress in front of your wife?

"Lucas, just let it go. Don't be so hard on her," Adam Castellanos, the Callahan family's adopted son, finally spoke up, trying to ease the tension.

"Stay out of my marriage!"

Lucas cut him off without a second thought, not even glancing at him. His burning eyes stayed locked on me.

"If you can't handle it, divorce me.

"If you won't divorce me, then you better learn your place.

"Marilyn is under my protection. If you mess with her, you're messing with me."

He stood there like some untouchable god, towering over me and crushing my pride underfoot.

Because he knew all my soft spots—my vulnerabilities, my family's situation—he could stab deep and not even flinch.

Everyone was watching like it was some kind of entertainment.

A few even had their phones out, secretly snapping pictures and recording. I felt like I was a clown on center stage at a circus.

And then, I laughed.

"Fine, I'll behave. Just like you asked."

My fingers reached for the clasp of my bra.

"Should I take off the rest? I can be even more obedient."

It was a classic move—retreat in order to advance.

"You!"

Lucas froze, stunned.

He was not stupid. He finally realized that dragging me down in public meant dragging himself down too.

No matter what feelings we had—or did not—husband and wife were still one unit in the eyes of others.

"That's enough!

"Take this as a warning. Don't make a scene again.

"Go home, reflect, and stop embarrassing yourself here."

I did not argue. I just turned and walked away.

I wanted to get to the car, but a sharp pain twisted through my abdomen, soaking me in a cold sweat.

It was the same issue I had since I was a kid—my cramps always flared up whenever I got too emotional.

I locked myself in a bathroom stall and sat on the toilet, silently riding out the wave of pain—both physical and emotional.

I did not know how long I stayed there, but the ache eventually eased up. Just as I was about to leave, the bathroom door slammed open.

Then came the sound of breathy gasps—hers—and low groans—his.

"Mr. Callahan, please be gentle. I can't handle it... "

"Hmph, isn't this what you wanted? I helped you get revenge, so now you're going to help me blow off steam.

"No matter how much it hurts, just take it. Get ready."

And then came the sickening chorus of noises that only made my stomach churn again.

"Ah! Mr. Callahan, you're amazing!

"Who feels better? Me or your wife?"

"Obviously you. Don't even bring up that pillow princess... "

It took them half an hour to finish.

I sat there, listening to their little performance like a live broadcast—expressionless.

Tears had poured down like a storm but eventually dried up in silence.

Whatever feelings I had for Lucas were gone completely.

He always believed I married him because I was after his power and his influence.

What he did not know was that I already had a crush on him back in college. I was two years younger, just a junior when I first started liking him.

When it came time for the arranged marriage, I actually had better options.

There was a proposal from an old, powerful family in New York.

A match that would have done more for my brother's inheritance and our family's status.

Yet, I went against my father's wishes and chose Lucas because I believed feelings could be nurtured.

However, this marriage turned out to be dead.

It was hopeless, lifeless, and utterly still.

After Lucas left with Marilyn, the stench of cigarettes still lingered in the bathroom.

I splashed water on my face, opened the door, and saw a man standing there, casually smoking.

"Here, put this on."

Adam handed me a clean, fresh coat.

"Thank you."

I draped the coat over my shoulders, but before I could say more, Adam pulled me into his arms.

"Don't be sad. If he loses you, it just proves he's not only a jerk but also an idiot.

"Work with me.

"I told you I'd make you happy."

To the outside world, Adam is the adopted son of the Callahan family and Lucas' brother.

So, he should be grateful, devoted, and faithful to the family that raised him.

But the truth? That was just a mask.

Twenty years ago, Adam's father was a business partner with Lucas' father. Not only that, he was the second-largest shareholder in the company.

Then, one day, an "accident" took both Adam's parents away.

He was just a kid when the Callahan family took him in.

People praised them, saying how noble they were to raise the orphan of their former ally. Yet, Adam never bought the story.

It was not an accident but a calculated murder.

And the murderer? Lucas's father.

Because buried in his father's diary were clues. Hints that behind the friendly facade, there was a ruthless power struggle between the two families.

And just when things reached a boiling point, Adam's parents conveniently died. And the Castellanos family lost their grip on the company.

What a neat little tragedy, huh? Too neat.

So Adam played the part of the obedient adopted son and followed Lucas around like a loyal assistant, but all along, he had been quietly plotting revenge.

"Call me if you ever need anything," he said softly.