Chapter 3

I clutched the photo frame in my hand, its wooden edges digging into my palm.

We didn't head back downtown. The car drove further and further out, entering a quiet area on the city outskirts, finally stopping in front of a gray-white standalone house.

James got out of the car, his grip on my wrist not loosening one bit.

He dragged me into the entrance hall, and I heard the heavy door close behind us.

Suddenly, he pressed me against the wall, his other hand braced beside my ear, trapping me between him and the wall.

We were so close I could see the bloodshot veins in his eyes.

"Anna." His voice was low and hoarse. "Look at me."

I raised my eyes to meet his gaze.

"These three years," each word seemed squeezed through his teeth, "have you regretted it even once?"

The numb pain in my chest suddenly came back to life, sharp and dense.

I pressed my lips together tightly.

He suddenly moved closer, our noses almost touching, his burning breath scalding my skin.

"Say something!" he growled, tightening his grip on my wrist. "Why? Why did you leave back then? Why did you betray me when I needed you most?"

Sharp pain shot through my wrist, but I only gripped the photo frame tighter.

His accusations were like knives, cutting open my already scabbed wounds.

Should I explain?

Tell him I left for that five million dollars? Tell him I gave up everything and went far away, only to get his condescending interrogation today?

How ridiculous!

I looked away and remained silent.

"Very good." He laughed softly, but the laugh was somewhat chilling.

"Anna, I won't let you go."

Just when I thought he was going to do something to me, footsteps came from the hallway on the other side of the entrance.

A priest walked over, holding a folder.

James released me but still kept me trapped in that small space.

He turned around and said to the priest, "Let's begin."

The priest nodded, walked to a nearby table, and placed what he was holding there.

James let go of me, turned and walked over, picked up a pen, signed one of the documents, then looked at me.

"Come here." His tone was commanding, leaving no room for argument.

I walked over, my eyes falling on the documents.

"Sign it." James held the pen out to me.

I didn't take it, looking at him instead. "What is this?"

"A sales contract." The corners of his mouth curved into a smile without warmth. "One hundred million dollars needs proof."

My heart trembled slightly, but I had no reason to refuse.

I picked up the pen and wrote "Anna."

The moment the pen left the paper, James seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, which then turned into something even colder.

The priest stood between us and began reading the vows.

"James Smith, do you take Anna Andrew to be your wife... whether she is sick or healthy, rich or poor, to remain faithful to her until you leave this world?"

James's gaze locked on me as he uttered two words: "I do."

His voice was firm and decisive, but without a trace of happiness.

The priest turned to me and asked, "Anna Andrew, do you take James Smith... whether he is sick or healthy, rich or poor, to remain faithful to him until you leave this world?"

The living room fell deathly silent, with only the distant sound of wind outside the window.

It slowly dawned on me. So what I just signed was a marriage agreement?

My heart skipped a beat. I didn't know whether to feel happy or sad.

"I do." My voice was numb as I said these three words.

The priest announced, "By the authority vested in me by the Holy Bible, I now pronounce you husband and wife."

After speaking, as if completing a task, he closed his book and slowly walked out.

The living room was left with just James and me.

James kept looking at me, emotions I couldn't understand churning in his eyes.

After a long while, he raised his hand, his fingertips touching where Nola had hit me earlier.

The movement was gentle, yet it made my spine go rigid.

He leaned down, close to my ear.

His warm breath brushed past my earlobe, but brought bone-chilling coldness. "Mrs. Smith, from now on, you can never leave this villa."

My pupils widened slightly. Was he going to imprison me?

Just then, my phone vibrated. It was the director of the sanatorium calling.

An ominous feeling instantly gripped me.

I answered immediately.

"Ms. Anna," the director's voice was urgent, "please come right away. Your mother's condition has suddenly deteriorated. She's being resuscitated."

My heart felt like something had seized it, stopping for a second.

I looked up at James. He stood a few steps away, backlit, his expression unclear; only the cold aura around him remained.

"My mother is critically ill, being resuscitated." My voice trembled slightly. "I have to go right now."

James didn't speak, just looked at me, his gaze deep and dark.

I had no time to deal with him and turned to leave.

But he grabbed my wrist. I was losing control. "James, that's my mother..."

"Sign this." His calm voice came through as he handed me another document.

I looked at the document title: [Marriage Relationship Complete Attribution and Restriction Agreement].

The terms inside were detailed, many pages long.

More naked than that sales contract earlier.

He was truly insane.

But I had no time to hesitate. I grabbed the pen and quickly signed my name.

He glanced at it, put it away, then took out an electronic ankle monitor.

"Put it on." He commanded, his voice still leaving no room for negotiation.

I bent down and fastened the cold metal ring around my left ankle.

A soft click. Locked.

After doing all this, I looked up at him once, then turned to leave.

"Wait," he called out again. "You need to go somewhere with me first. After we're done, I'll have Ade take you there. He'll bring you back later too..."

"James..."

As soon as I opened my mouth, he said, "You can say no, but do you think you can leave here?!"

My palms clenched tightly. He had truly lost his mind.

But I knew he would do what he said. I had no choice.

I closed my eyes. "Fine."

An hour later, after finishing what he needed me to do, I finally got in the car heading to the sanatorium.

James stood there, watching the car disappear from view.

He took out the new marriage certificate from his suit pocket, his fingertips caressing the edge of the photo, curling his lips as he murmured to himself in a gentle tone, "This time, you can never escape again, Anna."

Just then, the sharp sound of brakes came from the driveway. A black sedan stopped not far away. The driver's door opened, and a tall man stepped out...