Chapter 1

Ninety-nine.

That was how many mistresses had shown up at my door, screaming provocations, demanding I step down to make room for them.

And Jackson Sharp? Not a single word of explanation. Not one.

Instead, he praised me. Voice smooth. Detached. "Well done. You're finally acting like a proper Mrs. Sharp."

My gaze dropped to the pregnancy test report crumpled in my fist—evidence the woman had shoved at me moments ago. A bitter laugh clawed up my throat.

"You said you'd never let any of your women get pregnant."

Jackson smiled. That same charming, practiced curve of his lips. The one he wore like armor. "People change, Maya. Worst case? If she births it, I'll take the brat and give it to you to raise."

He reached out.

Patted my head.

Like I was a dog.

"Be good. Stop making a fuss." His fingers lingered, condescending. "Isn't this all because you can't have children of your own?"

The words died in my throat.

I had nothing left to say to this man.

The three-year agreement had expired.

It was time to return to my real life.

——

Over the past three years, the women surrounding Jackson Sharp numbered in the hundreds.

Maybe thousands.

Without exception, none lasted. They were flavors of the week—discarded as easily as used tissues.

Just like me.

His lawful wife.

In the beginning, I fought back. I screamed. I made scenes. Once, I even slammed divorce papers on the table hard enough to crack the wood.

Back then, Jackson would do anything to keep me. He'd drop to his knees on the cold marble floor, slap his own face until his cheeks bloomed red, and wield every weapon in his arsenal—soft pleas, hard threats—until I crumbled.

I was naive. I kept thinking, *Maybe next time. Maybe he'll change. Maybe he'll go back to the man he used to be.*

After all, he had loved me so deeply once.

But this time—combined with the ninety-eight betrayals before it—severed the last thread.

*I can't have children?*

On the surface, yes. That was the narrative.

But was that an excuse for infidelity? He could have divorced me. Instead, he kept me bound as a figurehead while he bedded half the city. He even forced me to clean up his messes, making me personally dismiss every discarded mistress like I was running a revolving door of heartbreak.

He didn't know the truth.

My "infertility" wasn't a defect.

It was a safeguard. A biological protection mechanism unique to the women of my lineage. I could only conceive with a man who was clean—a man who was my true love.

And I… I was not the orphan with no connections Jackson believed me to be.

My parents were the Hensons.

The apex predators of the capital's aristocracy. I was their only daughter. The heiress to a dynasty.

But family law was absolute. Every heir who came of age had to undergo a "Relationship Trial." Three years of living without identity, without resources.

Pass the trial, and your spouse ascended to the heavens, elevated by Henson influence.

Fail it?

They faced the most brutal retaliation imaginable.

I forced the corners of my mouth up, though a dull ache still throbbed behind my ribs. "Jackson, do you remember what you said when we first got together?"

He didn't look up. His thumbs flew across his phone screen—probably charming his next conquest. "How would I remember something from that long ago?" Impatience sharpened his voice. "Wife, I'm busy. I don't have time to walk down memory lane with you."

*But I remember.*

I remembered the sincerity in his voice. The way he looked at me like I was the only woman in the world.

*"I love you, Maya. I will love you forever. No matter what the future holds, I will protect you. I won't let anyone harm you."*

*"Even if the world stands against us, I will stand in front of you, sheltering you from the wind and rain."*

Whatever true feelings existed back then had been ground to dust by three years of neglect.

I wanted to tell him: *Jackson Sharp, I don't love you anymore.*

When I met him, he was the outcast of the Sharp family—a discarded son facing bankruptcy. I was the one who secretly pulled strings, who helped him navigate the storms and build his empire from rubble.

I had planned to tell him the truth once the trial ended. I wanted to take him home, to give us a brand-new life at the summit of society.

But looking at him now…

There was no point.

Three years. And all I had to show for it was heartache.

I didn't hesitate. I walked to the bedroom and packed my pitifully small suitcase.

When I dragged it into the living room, Jackson finally glanced up. Surprise flickered across his face.

"Going on a business trip? I don't recall approving any travel."