Chapter 1

My stepsister killed someone while driving high and made me take the fall.

She knelt in front of me, crying, "I'm so scared."

My mom snatched the only piece of evidence and told the police it was me.

My fiancé, Darian, took my hand and said, "Trust me. I'll marry you in three years."

Three years. Not one person came to see me.The day I was released, it poured rain. I clutched that engagement ring and walked back to that house.

The door was unlocked. The moment I pushed it open, I found him kissing my stepsister.

She spun around, ducking into Darian's arms.

"Sis... you're... you're out already?!"

——

Three years. I'd finally been released from prison.

I walked out through the gates in that same threadbare coat, now washed pale and thin, clutching the one small bundle that held everything I owned in the world. I stood there in the pouring rain.

No car. No umbrella. No one waiting for me.

My fingers had gone numb and purple, still clenched around the rusted engagement ring in my pocket.

The ring Darian had slipped onto my finger the night he proposed.

For three years, even as I was beaten and shoved face-down into the mud of that prison yard, I'd kept it pressed against my heart.

"Valerian, wait for me. Three years will go by fast. I'll bring you home."

His promise still echoed in my ears.

Gritting my teeth, dragging my left leg—broken once behind those walls, still aching with every step—I walked for four straight hours through the storm until I reached the familiar villa halfway up the hill.

Darian's house.

The home we'd once planned to share as husband and wife.

Every window blazed with light.

Through the towering glass wall, two silhouettes intertwined in the amber glow of a fireplace, the image searing itself into my eyes.

Soaked to the bone, looking like something dragged up from the depths of hell, I pushed open the unlocked door with trembling hands.

"Darian..." My voice came out cracked and hoarse, barely audible even to myself.

There, in the center of the great hall, on the sofa, was the man who had given me the strength to survive three years of hell. He was bent low, lips pressed tenderly against the throat of the woman in his arms.

She turned her head. Golden curls spilled over her shoulders, revealing a face I would never forget as long as I lived.

The bundle slipped from my hands and hit the floor.

Seraphina. My stepsister. The same girl who, three years ago, high on drugs and speeding down a residential street, had run down a pregnant woman—then thrown herself at my feet, sobbing, begging me to take the blame for her.

"What the hell is going on here?!"

The scream that tore from my throat didn't even sound like my own.

The two of them sprang apart.

Darian turned. For one fraction of a second, something like shock flickered across his handsome face. Then it was gone.

"Who let you in?" His voice was ice. "Get out."

I stood there shaking, rainwater dripping from my hair onto the floor.

I stared at him, my eyes burning, on the verge of tears.

"Darian... what did you just say to me?"

"I served three years for her! I took the fall so you wouldn't have to! You told me you'd wait!"

"Wait for a murderer?" Darian let out a cold laugh, rising to his feet. "Valerian, when you ran that woman down, did you ever once stop to think whether I'd still be waiting?"

"I never hit anyone!" I screamed, pointing at Seraphina, who cowered behind him. "It was her! Seraphina was the one who was high, Seraphina was driving! She begged me to take the blame! You know the truth—you've always known!"

"Sister, what are you even saying..." Seraphina peeked out from behind him, her eyes welling up right on cue. "I know prison must have broken something in you, but... but you can't pin this on me."

She was crying—but the corner of her mouth curled into a smirk the instant Darian looked away.

"You disgusting liar!" I lunged at her like something possessed. "Swear it! Swear it on the life of the woman you killed—the pregnant woman you ran down and left to die!"

I never even got close enough to touch her sleeve.

Darian's boot connected with my ribs first.

He kicked me so hard I flew backward, slamming into the glass display cabinet by the entryway.

Glass exploded around me in a deafening crash. Shards buried themselves in my back.

"Ugh—" Blood surged up my throat and spilled from my lips.

"Why..." I clutched my chest, staring up at him through the pain. "Darian... why are you doing this to me? Why?!"

"Because you're a lying lunatic!" He stood over me, looking down without a trace of pity in his eyes. "Security! Get this crazy woman out of my house! Don't let her ruin my carpet!"

"Why..." I lay collapsed among the broken glass, blood and tears blurring together until I could see nothing at all. "You told me you loved me... you promised me you loved me..."

Darian didn't even glance back. He turned, gathering Seraphina gently into his arms.

"Don't be scared, sweetheart. I won't let this murderer touch you."

"What are you standing around for? Throw her out!"