Chapter 2

"Mrs. Gray!"

"Is it true you were missing for three days?"

"There are rumors your marriage has long been on the rocks—is that what caused this?"

The entrance to the public hospital was mobbed. I lay on a stretcher, trapped by the swarm.

Camera flashes strobed in my face. Nolan stood beside me, continuously shooing away the reporters who pressed too close.

How laughable. He was the one who'd arranged all of this.

I wanted to run.

But I had nowhere to go.

Every lens was trained on me at my absolute worst.

One female reporter launched a pointed question: "Mrs. Gray! You've struggled with mental health issues for some time now. Is this disappearance related to that?"

I wanted to scream a denial, wanted to demand how they could make such assumptions.

But all that came from my throat was a hoarse rasp. Nolan kept up his performance beside me. "Please don't harass my wife."

"She can't speak!"

"Get the camera in closer! Get her face! Get her breaking down!"

The flashes blazed again.

They weren't here to find the truth.

They were here to capture my most wretched moment, then write whatever story they'd already decided on.

"Ella! Ella! Wake up!"

Nolan called my name over and over beside me.

"She's passed out!"

My vision went dark. I finally lost consciousness completely.

All the noise was shut out. My world was finally quiet.

When I came to again, I was lying in a hospital bed.

An IV needle was taped to the back of my hand, cold fluid dripping into my veins drop by drop.

Nolan wasn't there.

My father wasn't there.

My stepmother wasn't there.

Not a single person who was family to me by law or by blood sat at my bedside.

Only a nurse kept watch nearby. She heard me stir and looked up. Seeing my eyes open, her face lit up briefly before filling with pity. "You're awake? How are you feeling?"

"Try to stay calm and rest." Her voice was gentle.

I nodded.

She hesitated, glancing toward the firmly closed door of my room, then lowered her voice. "It's... not exactly quiet out there. But we've locked the door. You're safe for now."

Not exactly quiet.

I could imagine. After all, Nolan would never allow things to be "quiet."

I picked up my phone. The moment the screen lit up, notification after notification flooded in, instantly filling the display—

#BREAKING! Wife of Gray Group CEO resurfaces after three-day disappearance, appears to have suffered inhumane abuse#

#Collapses outside public hospital—what dark secrets lurk behind this elite marriage?#

#Mrs. Gray's condition raises alarm: victim or troubled? A deep dive into rumors of her mental health history#

#Nolan Gray at her side throughout? Devoted husband image stands in stark contrast to wife's pitiful state#

In the auto-playing video thumbnails, I lay slumped on a cold stretcher, face ashen, clothes caked with mud and blood, like a broken doll that had been played with and carelessly discarded.

The comment section was chaos—

"Marrying a woman like that is seriously bad luck. Think the Gray Group stock will take a hit?"

"That acting... isn't it a bit much? Going for the sympathy play?"

"Am I the only one who noticed Nolan was right there the whole time? That look in his eyes—so worried, so helpless. What a devoted man."

Devoted? A good man?

All he'd done was stand there, playing the role of a powerless, anxious bystander.

The more pathetic I looked in front of the cameras, the more perfect his image of unwavering loyalty would become.

I closed my eyes. My chest rose and fell slowly. Each breath ached.

What Nolan wanted was never for me to be safe and sound.

What he wanted was to completely destroy my name.

To brand me forever with labels like "Mrs. Gray has lost her mind" and "Mrs. Gray has become a liability to Gray Group."

When that happened, he wouldn't need to say a word. I would gradually come to believe, under countless judging stares and waves of self-doubt, that I was the one who'd ruined everything, that I was his stain, his burden.

And in the end, I would most likely speak the line he'd scripted for me all along:

"Nolan, let's get a divorce. I'm not good enough for you. I'm... dragging you down."

He wouldn't need to lift a finger himself.

This wasn't an accident.

This was a show he'd meticulously produced.

And everything he'd done, all of it was because Vivian was coming home.