---- foul ink. The insults never stopped. Ihad no choice but to leave. The rain hadn't let up for days. The wind howled, growing stronger by the hour. My old suitcase was soaked through. A black Maybach pulled up at the curb. Ethan stepped out under a black umbrella, his leather shoes splashing through the puddles. "Five years, Joy. And look at the life you've built. Really... 'spectacular.'" I didn't respond. I kept dragging my drenched suitcase toward the beat-up car I'd finally flagged down. Ethan's mood turned on a dime. He grabbed my wrist, voice snapping. "T gave you 300 thousand dollars when we severed our mate bond. And you're out here playing the ---- victim? Or are you putting on a show just for me?" I jerked away, clutching a damp suitcase to my chest. But his grip tightened. He wouldn't let go. In that moment, a stuffed toy slipped from my hands and fell. Asecond later, a car tire crushed it. Without thinking, I lunged toward the ground, reaching for it. Ethan yanked me back. "Have you lost your damn mind?! Get up!" "LET GO!" I shrieked, shoving him off, soaked and shaking. "That doll was for our babies! You didn't want them-but I did! I loved them!" He froze. His eyes locked onto the shredded remains of the ---- doll. "...You bought that for our pup?" How could I forget those beautiful twins I risked everything to bring into the world? Or the two I lost after that-each miscarriage like a piece of my soul torn away. Thad been so excited, prepared so much for them. Cribs. Clothes. Toys. Until Ethan told me the truth. All those losses... were deliberate. They were his revenge. Because of Sarah. My stepsister. His first love. She got pregnant at eighteen. My parents found out and begged her to terminate it. But Sarah was stubborn. She went behind their backs to a black- market clinic.