My husband by deception

Chapter 1: The End of Everything

Veronica POV

My hand shook so hard I could barely hold the pen. The paper in front of me was white and clean, but the words on it felt dirty. Divorce papers. It was the end of everything. My name, Veronica Harper, was just a name. It didn’t feel like my name anymore.

Jason stood across the big glass table, not looking at me. He was on his phone, his face a mask of cold stone. He didn’t care. Not about me. Not about the years we had been together. Not about the baby I was carrying.

"Just sign it, Veronica," he said without looking up. His voice was flat, like he was talking about the weather. "The lawyer is waiting."

The sound of his voice felt like a push, and my hand jerked. A tear fell, a hot, salty drop that hit the paper and blurred the ink on the line where I was supposed to write my name. I felt a fire in my chest. A deep, burning sadness that made it hard to breathe. I had loved this man. I had given him my whole life.

A small cough made me look up. Rhea, my best friend since we were little girls, stood next to Jason. She was wearing a dress I had bought her for her birthday. It fit her perfectly. Her face was a pretty picture, but her eyes were not. They were hard and mean. A small, ugly smile played on her lips.

"It’s for the best, Veronica," she said, her voice dripping like sweet honey, but her words were like sharp knives. "Jason needs a wife who can give him a family. Not a woman who can’t get pregnant."

Her words were like a punch to my stomach. I wanted to tell her. I wanted to yell, "I am pregnant! With his baby!" But the words got stuck in my throat. I couldn’t tell them. Not now. Not when they stood so close, two people who had ripped my world apart.

Rhea had been my best friend. We shared secrets and dreams. She had been the one I ran to when Jason got mad, when he would yell and say mean things. She always gave me a hug and told me it would be okay. All that time, she was a snake. A snake in a pretty dress.

My eyes found Jason again. He finally looked at me, but his eyes were empty. He saw a stranger, a woman he didn’t know anymore. He didn’t see the girl who fell in love with him, the wife who cooked him his favorite meals, or the person who stayed up late just to talk to him. He didn’t see me.

My heart felt like it was breaking into a thousand tiny pieces. I picked up the pen and looked at the line that would erase my life with him. My hand stopped shaking. I was not a woman who cried. I was not a woman who begged. I was not the perfect wife he wanted. But I was not a woman who would be a doormat, either. My father, who worked so hard to get my family to a better life, had taught me to be strong. To fight. And my mother had taught me that loving yourself was a very important thing. Now, it was time to remember those things.

With a deep breath that burned my lungs, I signed the paper. The ink felt cold on the white page. I wrote my name, Veronica Stanford. Not Veronica Harper. It felt good. It felt like coming home to myself.

I put the pen down and stood up. I didn’t look at Jason or Rhea. I just walked out of the room. The big, beautiful house that used to be my home felt like a prison. Every fancy chair, every painting on the wall felt like a cold eye watching me. The front door closed with a loud click behind me.

I walked down the long driveway and kept walking. I didn't have a car. I didn't care. The city streets were loud and full of people, but I felt so alone. Like I was the only person in the world. I walked until my feet hurt. I walked until the fancy buildings turned into small shops, and the bright lights turned into a soft, yellow glow. I was looking for a place to hide. A place where I could be alone with my broken heart.

I found a small bar on a quiet street. It wasn’t a fancy place like Jason would go to. It was dark, it smelled like old beer and sad stories. It was perfect. I sat on a stool at the counter and ordered a drink. Then another. And another. Each glass I drank was a promise to myself. A promise to forget. To forget the man who had lied to me. To forget the friend who had stabbed me in the back. To forget the beautiful life that had turned out to be so ugly.

My head felt fuzzy, and the world started to spin. The music from the jukebox sounded far away. I started to cry, but this time, the tears felt different. They were angry tears. Tears for the girl who was so stupid to fall in love with a man like Jason. The girl who trusted a snake like Rhea.

A man sat on the stool next to me. I didn’t look at him. I just kept my head down, crying into my hands. I wanted to be invisible. I wanted to disappear.

Then, a voice, deep and rough, spoke to me. "Hey, pretty lady, why don’t you smile? You’re ruining the party."

I felt a hand on my shoulder. A dirty hand. I looked up. There were two men, big and mean-looking, with ugly smiles on their faces. They looked like bad news. I tried to stand up, but my legs felt weak and wobbly. My heart started to beat fast, a scared drum inside my chest. This was not good. This was not part of the plan. I just wanted to be alone. I didn’t want to be in trouble.

"Let’s go, honey," the second man said. "We can have a lot of fun together."

Fear, cold and sharp, shot through me, making me sober for a second. I shook my head and tried to say no, but the words wouldn’t come out. The man’s hand squeezed my shoulder hard. He was pulling me. I was so tired. I was so scared. I wanted to fight, but I couldn’t. My body just wanted to give up.

Just as I thought it was all over, a third man appeared. He was tall, like a tree. He had long black hair and a face so beautiful it was a little scary. But it was his eyes that caught my breath. They were bright, bright green. Like the greenest grass I had ever seen. The thugs looked at him and their smiles fell off their faces. The man with the green eyes just stood there, his face hard as a rock. He didn't move, he didn't say a word. He didn't have to. The air around him felt cold and dangerous. He looked at the thugs, and it was like he was looking at nothing. He just looked through them.

One of the thugs let go of me. The other one took a step back. "Hey man, we were just having some fun," he said, his voice shaky and scared.

The man with the green eyes finally spoke. His voice was low, and it was like a growl.

"The party is over."

He didn't even yell. He didn't even get mad. But it was enough. The thugs ran away, their boots making a loud noise on the floor.

I was left alone again, but this time, it was different. This time, I wasn’t alone. The man with the bright green eyes looked at me. His face was still a rock, but there was something else in his eyes. Something I couldn't read. Something dark and deep.

He stepped closer to me. The world was spinning, my body was weak, and I didn't know what to do. I didn't know what to say. I just stared into his eyes, lost in their green fire. He reached out his hand, and I thought he was going to hit me. But he didn't. He just lifted a strand of my hair and tucked it behind my ear. His hand was big and strong, but his touch was soft.

"You should not be here alone," he said, his voice still low, but not rough anymore. It was like music. "You are too pretty for this kind of place."

I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out. I was a mess. A broken mess, and he saw it. He knew it.

"Come on," he said, holding out his hand.

I didn’t know who he was. I didn’t know what he wanted. But for some reason, for the first time since I signed those papers, I felt like I wasn’t going to drown. I felt a tiny spark of something else. Something I couldn’t put my finger on.

I looked at his hand. It was a choice. Stay here, or go with this stranger. This dangerous, beautiful stranger who had saved me from something bad.

I took his hand. He pulled me up, and I stood on wobbly legs. He didn't let go of me. He held my hand tight, like he was afraid I would fall. Or like he didn't want me to get away.

"What's your name?" he asked, still looking at my face, like he was trying to figure out a puzzle.

"Veronica," I whispered. My voice was small and scared.

He smiled, but it didn't touch his eyes. They stayed dark and deep, like a forest at night.

"My name is Jude," he said. "And I think you're coming with me."

And I did. I walked with him out of the bar, out of the dark, and into the night. I didn’t know where we were going. I didn’t know who he was. All I knew was that I had just signed away my old life, and now I was walking into a new one. A new life with a man who had eyes like green fire. And I had no idea what kind of fire it was.