Chapter 2

Greer's POV

After fleeing the banquet, I hid out in my sister Esme’s cramped apartment like a fugitive. My parents split up years ago; Esme stayed with Mom, while I went to live with Dad.

For three whole days.

My phone vibrated relentlessly on the table, like a bomb waiting to go off.

"Greer, please answer. I'm going crazy."

"What did I do wrong? We were about to get married. Don't punish me like this."

"I love you. Just let me see you."

Every message reeked of the confusion, grievance, and desperate pleading of a perfect fiancé.

I stared at the screen full of devotion, feeling my scalp prickle and my stomach churn.

For so long, Soren’s mask of the calm, caring partner had been flawless. If I hadn't seen the danger level spike to a blood-red 100% the moment he slipped that ring on, I never would have realized—this man was leading me to my slaughter.

"How long are you going to hide?"

Esme set a hot coffee in front of me. Above her head floated a comforting [0%].

"I'm not hiding, Esme. I'm surviving," I said, clenching my freezing hands, forcing myself to sound like the rational lawyer I was.

"Greer," she sighed. "Could you have misunderstood him? You've been working around the clock on that case, not sleeping for days. You looked at Soren like you saw a ghost. Everyone thinks you've had a mental break."

"I know what I saw!" I stood up abruptly, my voice so shrill I barely recognized it. "He wants to kill me!"

Dead silence filled the room. The worry in Esme's eyes deepened—she was looking at me like I belonged in a psych ward.

Right then, my phone rang again.

Vivienne Ashford. Soren’s mother, the reigning matriarch of the Ashford Medical Group.

I took a deep breath and answered.

"Greer." Vivienne’s elegant voice carried an undeniable, crushing weight. "I have always favored you. I thought you were smart and sensible. But this time, you've gone too far."

"Vivienne, I—"

"You dragged the Ashford family name through the mud!" she cut me off coldly. "In front of the city's entire elite, you assaulted my son like a madwoman and ran! Do you have any idea what Soren is going through right now?"

I bit my jaw, staying silent.

"He hasn't eaten or drank anything in three days. He's locked in his study, staring at that ring! He built a perfect future for you, and you destroyed it!" Her tone dripped with condescension. "I don't care what delusions are running through your head. Come out right now and sort this out with him face-to-face."

"Sort this out?" I gripped the phone. "Soren’s first wife, Lenore. The official story is she killed herself due to depression. Tell me—before she died, did you all deem her 'mentally unstable' just like you're doing to me?"

"How can you be so cruel, Greer?!" Vivienne suddenly shrieked. "Lenore had severe clinical depression! Soren watched her jump from that building! Because of that trauma, he treats you like glass, terrified of upsetting you—he was trying to protect you!"

"Protect?" I scoffed.

"He gave you his whole heart, and you use his deepest darkest wound to stab our entire family!" she screamed, before slamming the phone down.

The dial tone echoed like a slap to the face.

That night, I didn't sleep a wink.

The next morning, I got dressed, preparing to head to my law firm.

I pulled open the apartment door and froze.

Soren was leaning against the wall outside.

His tailored suit was wrinkled, his tie undone, his jaw covered in dark stubble.

But the scarlet [100%] was still suspended above his head, blinding me.

"Soren..." Esme gasped from behind me. Slipping past me, her nurse's instinct kicked in with total sympathy. "My god, what happened to you?"

"Esme, step back!" I screamed.

"Greer, stop it!" She turned back, a hint of begging in her eyes. "Look what you've done to him. You haven't seen each other in days. Just talk to him, please?"

Before I could argue—my most trusted sister gently shoved me forward.

I stumbled forward.

The next second, I was yanked into a chest hard as stone.

"Greer..."

Soren locked his arms around me, trapping me in his cedarwood-scented embrace. His voice was devastatingly hoarse, like a man who had finally found the piece of his soul he'd lost.

"I finally found you. Don't run anymore, okay?"

My body went rigid. I didn't even dare to breathe.

"I promise, everything is going to be okay," he murmured, rubbing his chin desperately against the top of my head.

Then, his palm gently cupped the back of my neck.

His thumb and index finger caressed my skin in what felt like a soothing motion, until they paused—precise and ice-cold—directly over my carotid artery.

My heart hammered against my ribs.

The next second, his fingers tightened with brutal force. My vision shattered into blackness. Before I could even scream, I sank into the dark.