"Trust me! I'll take responsibility. I'll make you the happiest, most cherished woman on Earth!"

The man's voice echoed in Elena Lane's ears, full of promises and certainty.

Elena shook her head wildly, "No, no, please… ah—!"

With a sudden thrust, he pushed deep. Elena cried out in pain—then everything went dark.

When she woke up, he was gone.

But the air still reeked of sex and heat.

Used tissues were scattered on the floor. Clothes were tossed everywhere. The room was a mess, a silent witness to what had just happened.

Elena gripped the bedsheet, trembling, her teeth biting into her lower lip as her vision blurred with tears.

She was a married woman. She came to the airport to pick up her husband.

And now? She hadn't even seen him yet—and she'd already lost her virginity.

What the hell was this?

Was this… cheating?

How the hell was she supposed to face him now? How was she supposed to go on living with herself?

Even if she told him the truth—that there was chaos at the airport, that she got dragged into a dark VIP lounge by some man in the panic, and that… that this happened—

Would he even believe her? Would he still want her? Would their marriage survive this?

Tears poured down her cheeks.

What the hell did she do in a past life to deserve this?

She never knew what love felt like. No love from her natural parents. Her entire life had been one shitty mess after another.

She studied hard to change her fate, got into her dream college on her own. But then her adoptive parents forced her to marry.

The engagement was supposed to be for her younger sister, Flora Lane. But the man was disabled, and they couldn't bear to "ruin" their real daughter's life.

So they shoved Elena into it instead.

They couldn't resist the fat dowry, and used the excuse "years of raising you" as leverage, forcing her to take Flora's place, marrying the disabled man.

Nobody asked her what she wanted.

From dropping out of college to getting engaged and married— Not once did anyone ask for her opinion.

They made the decisions. They ruined her future. End of story.

She cried, she cursed, but in the end… she gave in.

They say marriage is a woman's second life. She took that literally. At least marrying out meant she could finally escape that cold-blooded family.

So she decided to be a good wife.

Damien Carrington had been overseas for the last two years, getting treatment for his legs. She stayed behind, alone in a cold bed, loyal and faithful. Not once did she even think about another man.

This marriage cost her everything—her education, her future. She treasured it.

But now…

On the very day Damien was supposed to come home—this happened.

Ding-ding-ding…

Her phone buzzed. It was the housekeeper.

"Ma'am, Sir asked you to come home."

Elena's heart skipped a beat. Panic set in.

"He's already home?"

"Yes. He came back, didn't see you, and left again. But he said… he wants you to come back to sign the papers. He… he wants a divorce."

The words hit her like a bolt of lightning.

Divorce?

She knew Damien didn't care for this marriage. He hadn't even shown up to their wedding. They'd never met—not once in two years. They didn't even know what each other looked like.

But still, he'd never treated her badly.

He gave her everything—food, clothes, a place to live. When she got sick, he told the maids to take care of her. Even from across the world, she could feel his concern.

She thought he just hated arranged marriages. That one day, if she proved herself a good wife, they'd build something real. Be like one of those couples who started cold and ended up in love.

But now—

"Ma'am, don't be too sad. Sir left you this villa, two luxury cars, and a lot of money," the housekeeper said excitedly.

But how could Elena not be sad?

She was dying inside.

Her life was already a mess. Now it was just… total wreckage.

And what right did she have to say no to a divorce?

She wasn't pure anymore. She didn't deserve him.

Sniffling, Elena whispered, "Got it. I'll come home and sign."

She hung up, forced herself to get dressed despite the pain, and stumbled out of the airport.

Just moments after she left, a convoy of sleek black cars pulled up in front of the terminal.

Dozens of bodyguards in black suits stepped out, surrounding the area.

A sharply dressed assistant opened one of the car doors with a bow.

Damien Carrington stepped out.

Handmade leather shoes. Custom-tailored suit. Limited-edition luxury watch. Every inch of him screamed power and control.

He was tall, broad-shouldered, with a chiseled face and a cold, lethal aura that made people instinctively hold their breath.

Everyone turned to look at him—some in awe, some in fear.

But he didn't look at anyone. Eyes straight ahead, he walked toward the VIP lounge.

Last night, he'd eaten something laced with poison and got chased by his enemies. In the chaos, he'd ended up dragging a woman into a dark room and… taking her.

It had been her first time.

He'd left quickly afterward, afraid his enemies would come after her.

But he'd made a promise.

He told her he'd take responsibility. He'd make her the happiest, most honored woman in the world.

And when Damien Carrington made a promise—he kept it.

Just before reaching the lounge, his assistant Caleb rushed up beside him.

"Dami, we got a call from home. Your wife… she's back. But, uh… she was with another man last night. The marks on her body were... obvious. And the housekeeper said she's brought multiple men home over the past couple of years. She's barely spent any nights at the house."

Damien's eyes narrowed.

Caleb hesitated, then added, "Also, when she's drunk, she talks a lot of shit. Once at a bar, she told people you were a cripple who didn't deserve her. That you marrying her was like… well…"

"What?"

"She said you were like a janitor dreaming of marrying a supermodel."

Damien let out a cold laugh. "Heh."

That wife was someone his family had forced on him two years ago, to weaken his power. He never even laid eyes on her. Didn't show up to the wedding. Didn't care.

Now that he had total control over the Carrington empire, he didn't need her. That's why he came back—to end it.

It wasn't about being heartless. There just… wasn't anything between them.

To make it up to her for wasting two years of her life, he'd been generous—mansion, luxury cars, and a check for a hundred million.

But now?

She turned out to be a cheating, manipulative whore.

No way was she getting a damn cent.

"Scrap the old divorce agreement," he said coldly, "Draft a new one. She cheated. She walks away with nothing."

"Yes, sir."

Damien smoothed out his jacket, took a deep breath, and pushed open the lounge door.

He was ready to face her—with dignity and grace.

He'd touched her. That meant she was his, for life.

But—

The room was empty.

She was gone?

His expression darkened as he stormed through the airport, searching every corner.

No sign of her anywhere.

"Pass it down," Damien ordered, voice sharp, "I don't care what it takes. Find her."

Find her. Keep the promise.

Make her the happiest, most cherished woman in the world.