Anastasia Greene Johnson I lay crumpled across the sofa, sobbing until my lungs ached, while the clock dragged itself past half-past midnight. Ethan still wasn't home. Every tick seemed to drive another splinter beneath my ribs. With trembling fingers, I clutched the photographs-the vile little collection someone had slipped beneath my door-and stared at them again, hoping that somehow, if I looked hard enough, they would become something else. They didn't. "This... this can't be true." My voice broke. "It can't." I shook my head violently. "I don't believe it. I won't believe it!" In a burst of fury, I flung the photographs onto the marble floor. They scattered around me like pale leaves caught in a storm. I tore several in half, then again, until scraps fluttered around my feet. My hands tangled helplessly in my hair. A raw cry tore from my throat. Ethan had travelled for work countless times before. He had left me and Ruslan behind and crossed oceans without ever giving me reason to doubt him. Never like this. Even when he was thousands of miles away, he always called. Sometimes it was only for a few minutes, but he made sure I heard his voice every day. Yet this last trip. . . This cursed trip had been different. He had left without telling me where he was going and returned a week later with a strange silence hanging over him. His eyes had looked tired. His answers had been clipped. We had argued before he left. I'd wanted to work at a patisserie. He'd refused. He wanted me at home, spending his money rather than earning my own. I hadn't agreed, and my insistence had clearly upset him. But surely that was nothing capable of creating this. I had told myself he was exhausted. Buried beneath work. I had given him space, sent little messages instead, reminding him to eat and sleep. He read every one. Answered none. And yet, somehow, I had still felt loved. I remembered him finding me asleep on the sofa and quietly pulling a blanket over me. The soft kiss he'd press against my forehead before dawn. The quiet click of his tongue whenever he discovered me curled up somewhere cold. Even during arguments, his arms found me in his sleep as though some part of him knew where I belonged. Then what in God's name is this? I looked down at the photographs again. The woman's hair was similar to mine. But it wasn't me. Who is that woman lying half-naked beside my husband? Ethan would never do this. He loved me. He said it constantly. More importantly, he showed it. So why these photographs? Why this deliberate wound carved straight through everything I believed about us? Ethan and I had been happy. At least, I had believed we were. Our marriage had been built on passion and tenderness, on desire and devotion, on raising our son together and all the quiet little rituals that belonged only to us. How could he have strayed? I'm his wife. Ruslan's mother. He was the one who insisted we marry so quickly. How could he destroy something he fought so hard to build? My throat burned. I reached for the glass of water beside me and swallowed desperately. It barely helped. Then- The doorbell rang. My heart lurched. "Ethan..." Hope came rushing back so quickly it almost hurt. "It must be him." I scrambled towards the door. "He'll explain. He'll prove this is all a lie. He has to." I flung it open, a trembling smile already forming. "Honey, welco-" The word died in my throat. Ethan stood there. Or rather, he was being held upright by another woman. His head lolled against her shoulder, his body utterly slack. His bespoke grey suit was immaculate in every respect except for the vivid red lipstick smeared across the collar, his lips and the side of his neck. His hair was dishevelled. His eyes were closed. The woman looked at me with a vicious smile. "Hello," Her voice was smooth as silk and twice as poisonous. "Remember me?" My stomach dropped. That voice and that face... The restaurant. My eighteenth birthday. The lounge where Ethan and I had first crossed paths. She had been there. "I hope you do," she continued sweetly. "Small world, isn't it?" Before I could answer, she swept past me. She nudged me aside as though I were an inconvenience rather than the woman who lived there. Then she laid Ethan carefully on the sofa and brushed his untidy hair away from his forehead with startling familiarity. Rage flared inside me. I slapped her hand away. "Don't touch my husband!" She stared at me. Then laughed. A low, mocking sound. "Husband?" Her smile sharpened. "You mean the man who slept with me because he was tired of you?" "Liar!" My voice cracked. "Ethan would never do that! He loves me!" "Oh, sweetheart." Her expression became almost pitying. "How naïve." She folded her arms. "Did you honestly believe a man like Ethan could ever settle for one woman?" Her eyes travelled over me. "And even if he could, why would it be you? You're nothing special." The words struck harder than I wanted to admit. She stepped closer. "Should I enlighten you?" I couldn't speak. "Ethan and I were promised to one another long before you ever appeared in his life. I was his first." Her smile widened. "And I'll be his last." My breath caught. "You're..." The name surfaced. "Valerie." Her eyes gleamed. "Oh, so you do remember me." She laughed softly. "He told you about me, then? Wonderful. That must make this even more painful." She leaned closer. "He regrets that night with you, you know. Your eighteenth birthday. He told me everything. Said it was nothing but lust. A moment of misplaced emotion after seeing me at the restaurant." My head shook before I could stop it. "No." "He thought about me even while he was with you." "No! You're lying! He loves me!" "Really?" Her smile was merciless. "Then tell me-what exactly does a man like Ethan see in you? What do you offer him besides your body? Even that apparently isn't enough anymore." She tilted her head. "He's moved on," Her voice dropped. "I told you that day - rare jewels don't stay with beggars who can't afford them." I stood there trembling. But I refused to look away. I waited. Prayed - if Ethan woke up, he'd deny everything. He had to. Then- "Mm... I love you..." Ethan stirred weakly on the sofa. "I'm sorry..." His voice was thick with intoxication. "I won't leave you again... I won't ignore you anymore..." Valerie gasped dramatically. "Would you look at that?" She turned towards me. "He's been saying that for months. Begging me to forgive him. Begging to come back." Her smile became cruel. "First love is impossible to forget, isn't it?" Something inside me broke. "STOP IT, YOU SLUT!" I lunged. My hands closed around her throat. I wanted to silence her. But she shoved me away with shocking force. I hit the marble floor hard. "You bitch!" She glared down at me. "No wonder he grew tired of you. You're completely unhinged." I surged back to my feet and grabbed her hair. Only then did I really notice it. Her hair had once been red. Now it was dyed a pale brown, falling in glossy waves almost to her waist-nearly the same length as mine. I didn't care. "ETHAN IS MINE!" My voice tore through the room. "MINE! No one is taking him from me-least of all you!" Her palm struck my face. The impact sent me sprawling. Pain exploded across my cheek. "You pathetic little bitch," she looked down at me with open contempt. "You still don't understand, do you? Ethan feels nothing for you. You aren't his wife. You're just his mistress. A kept woman who looks after his child and warms his bed when he wants you. A man who truly loves a woman doesn't humiliate her like this. Face the truth." My vision blurred. Tears streamed down my face until there was nothing left to cry. But Valerie wasn't finished as she went through her phone. "Those photographs might not have been enough." She muttered and thrust the screen on my face. "Look." There was a photograph. Two children. Both around Ruslan's age. One was perched on Ethan's back, laughing. The other had tiny teeth clamped playfully around his arm. And Ethan- He was smiling. Not his public smile. Something softer. Unprotected. A father's smile. My stomach twisted. "Who..." My voice barely existed. "Who are they?" Valerie's lips curved. "What do you think?" She leaned towards me. "They're my and Ethan's children." My entire world went still. For one terrible heartbeat, I couldn't even understand the words. Then fury detonated inside me. I lunged towards her again. She shoved me away. "Don't touch me!" Her voice rose. "Accept it! Your perfect little life with Ethan is a lie. He doesn't love you. He never has!" "No!" The scream ripped out of me. I covered my ears. It isn't true. None of it. Ethan loves me. He's my husband. Ruslan's father. He would never betray us. I repeated it silently, desperately, as though the words could hold my mind together. But Valerie was watching me with the satisfaction of someone who knew she had already won. Then she delivered the final blow. "Remember your miscarriage two years ago?" I froze. "It wasn't nature," Her voice was almost gentle now. "Ethan did it." My blood ran cold. "He told me everything. He couldn't bear the thought of having another child with you. He wanted me to be his true wife. The mother of his heirs." She smiled. "And that's exactly what I am." I couldn't breathe. "He promised me your days were numbered. He'd divorce you soon." Her eyes gleamed. "Soon, Anastasia, you'll be nothing more than a bitter memory." Her words entered me slowly, like poison spreading through my bloodstream. First came disbelief. Then horror. Then grief so enormous it seemed to swallow everything else. Ethan... Did you really kill our children because you didn't want them?

Anastasia Greene Johnson I shook my head violently. She's lying. She wants me to surrender without a fight. Even if Ethan betrayed me, he could never do something as monstrous as murdering his own children. I know him. I have to. I just have to win his love back. Tears spilled before I could stop them. My knees gave way, and I crumpled before Valerie, every last scrap of pride dissolving beneath the weight of my desperation. "Please," I rasped, clutching at her skirt as though it were the only thing keeping me from drowning. "Don't take him away from me. Don't break my family apart. I'm begging you." I would have crawled a thousand miles over broken glass if it meant salvaging my marriage. But mercy had abandoned me. Valerie's stiletto came down on my hand, the heel grinding into flesh until pain tore a cry from my throat. Even then, I endured it. For Ethan. "You think that's going to soften me?" she sneered, her laugh brittle as shattered glass. "You stole him from me, and he still came crawling back. And now you have the nerve to beg me to give him up?" I had no answer. My silence only seemed to delight her. "I'm afraid it's far too late for that." She sighed with manufactured sympathy. "You saw the photographs. Ethan wants me, not you. And when a man like Ethan decides what he wants, nothing stands in his way. So take your son and disappear. Consider this the end of your little fairytale." "No. . ." The word barely made it past my lips. "No, this can't be. Ethan loves me. He-" The slap came without warning. My head snapped sideways. Valerie caught my chin, forcing me to look at her. Triumph glittered in her eyes. "Listen carefully, you deluded little country-bum," she hissed. "I could bury you beneath enough evidence to make you wish you'd never opened your eyes this morning. But I'll be merciful." She reached into her handbag and pulled out a gleaming credit card, flicking it towards my feet. "Take it. It's enough for a plane ticket and a new life somewhere far away from him. Find some miserable little room where you can lick your wounds in peace. Why cling to a man who doesn't want you when you might still find some pathetic fool willing to take pity on you?" My fingers trembled. I stared at the card but did not touch it. "I... I can't. I love him." "But he doesn't love you," Her smile turned cruel. "You heard him yourself." I had. Ethan's drunken words still haunted the room. And yet some stubborn fragment of faith refused to die. "I'll believe it," I whispered, my voice shaking but steadying with every word. "When he's sober and tells me himself. When he looks me in the eye and says he doesn't love me." Something in Valerie's expression hardened. "Fine," she unlocked her phone again. "Remember-you asked for this." Her thumb moved across the screen with deliberate precision. Then she thrust the screen on my face and pressed play. The video featured her and Ethan, tangled in bed together in a fancy hotel room. Valerie's sultry voice emerged first. "I love you, Ethan. I love you so much." My stomach twisted. Then came his raspy voice as he kissed her. "I love you more... I'm sorry for leaving you." The visuals and sounds that followed-muffled breaths, quiet moans, the intimacy of people who should never have been there together-finished what her words had begun. The room tilted. Bile climbed into my throat as I stumbled backwards, horror hollowing me from the inside. "No..." My voice broke. "No, no... this isn't real." Valerie merely smiled. "Oh, there's more." Her tone was almost playful. "Shall we open another little Easter egg?" She tapped the screen again. A voice note. Dr. Owen. My former gynecologist. Her voice came hesitant and uneasy. "Mr. Johnson, this isn't right. Not without your wife's consent-" Ethan interrupted. Cold. Controlled. "You're being paid. Do as I say. Prescribe the pills. Make certain they aren't life-threatening. No lasting side effects." "But Mr. Joh-" "Do not make me repeat myself, Dr. Owen. She's already three months along. It can't continue. The babies must be removed. No more delays." Silence. Then Dr. Owen's trembling reply. "Al-alright." Rustling. Movement. Then- "Here. Mix it with her food. Be careful with the dosage." "Thank you. The money will be in your account as soon as possible." The recording stopped. So did something inside me. The memory came rushing back in one brutal wave-the cramps, the blood, the terror. The maid bringing my lunch. That strange bitterness lingering on my tongue. So Valerie was telling the truth? Did Ethan-my Romeo-arrange for our children to die before they were even born? "Not only that," Valerie said, her voice thick with satisfaction. "He wanted to get rid of your son, too." My blood ran cold. "The first time, he wanted the same outcome-a miscarriage. He only stopped because you were too far along. Removing the child then would have resulted in legal threats. Otherwise, you'd have lost that child as well." She paused. "If you still doubt me, I can-" "I believe you." The words left me before I could think. My voice sounded strange. Thin. Hollow. "I... I understand now." I wiped the tears from my lashes with a shaking hand. Valerie smiled. A serpent pleased with the venom it had delivered. "Now we're talking." That smug little triumph settled the last uncertainty inside me. The photographs. The recordings. The miscarriage. All of it carried Ethan's imprint. How could I remain beside a man whose hands had plotted the deaths of my children? Infidelity might have broken me. But this. . . this was beyond betrayal. A bitter, soundless laugh trembled through me. How blind I was. Love had not merely softened me. It had shackled me. Ethan's so-called protection had always been a gilded cage. His refusal to let me work. His insistence that I remain inside walls he owned, spending his money while he decided what my life should look like. He never let me form new relationships unless he approved. I had mistaken possession for devotion. He had feared my independence because independence meant I might eventually see him clearly. And leave. My heart twisted beneath the weight of grief and disgust. The man I had adored with reckless devotion had never loved me in the way I loved him. To Ethan, I had been something manageable-a beautiful ornament, a pliable soul dressed in silk and kept exactly where he wanted me. A marionette. And he had been pulling the strings from the beginning. But no more. I won't be his obedient little prisoner anymore. I have Ruslan. My son deserves better than this. He deserves kindness. Compassion. Humanity. I will raise him differently. I will break this chain here, before he grows into the very man I now believe his father to be. "Thank you," I murmured. There was no anger left in my voice. Only ice. "Thank you for telling me the truth. I'll leave him. I'll take my son and disappear from his life," I swallowed. "May you find whatever happiness you were denied with him." Without waiting for an answer, I turned away. In the bedroom, I tore through drawers and cabinets, gathering passports, documents, cash and whatever else I could carry. My hands would not stop shaking. Then I saw it. The wedding portrait. Mounted above the king-sized bed. Ethan and me, frozen beneath a frame of golden light-smiling as though the vows between us were indestructible. For one wild second, I wanted to rip it from the wall. Smash the glass. Destroy every trace of that woman I had once been. But Ruslan was waiting. I had no time for ghosts. I hurried into his room and gathered my sleeping son into my arms. His little body curled instinctively against me, warm and trusting, utterly unaware that his world had just been turned upside down. When I returned to the living room, Valerie was still there. She sat beside Ethan with feline ease, stroking his hair while he slept, oblivious to the wreckage surrounding him. My grip tightened around the suitcase handle. The wheels whispered harshly across the marble. Seven years together since high school. Three being married. And this was what I was handed in return - betrayal. The cruelest kind. I took some of the scattered photographs from the floor as proof and left. I did not look back. Not at Ethan. Not at Valerie. Not at the penthouse that had once felt like home. I walked into the night with my son in my arms and the remains of a love I no longer recognized scattered somewhere behind me.

Anastasia Greene Johnson The night was cold enough to bite. It felt colder still with my frightened three-year-old sobbing in my arms. His cries rose with every crack of thunder, and when lightning struck the nearest power pole, I flinched and pressed myself deeper into the telephone booth. But I couldn't hide there forever. London had apparently decided to throw one spectacular tantrum. When I'd left home, the weather had been pleasant. Now rain hammered the streets, and, naturally, I had no umbrella. Only then did I understand what true helplessness felt like. This was exactly what Ethan had wanted-to make me so dependent on him that, without him, I wouldn't know how to function. So that if I ever tried to leave, I'd discover I had nowhere to go and nothing with which to begin again. And yet here I was, running through a storm-soaked London night with nothing but my son. Because the man I had loved with every piece of myself had broken me so thoroughly that fleeing with nothing felt safer than staying. I had never relied on anyone the way I relied on Ethan. He had pulled me from the darkest corners of my life time and again... Until I forgot that the same hands capable of lifting me could also cast me aside. Still, I could rebuild. I had existed before him. After Dad passed, I had looked after Mom and my little brother without anyone to lean on. I could do it again. Better this time. But that was the adrenaline talking. As the fury ebbed, reality settled over me. A woman alone on the streets this late with a crying child was hardly safe. Anything could happen. Tears slipped down my cheeks as I rocked Ruslan, whispering nonsense into his ear. I was living through hell with a heartbeat in my arms. Then a sleek BMW pulled up beside the booth. A man dressed in black stepped out, umbrella raised, and opened the rear door. I shrank into the corner. Please, God... don't let it be Dorian. Did he follow me? Is Ethan awake already? Has he sent everyone looking for me? Will he kill me and Ruslan to keep me quiet? Then a pair of expensive heels appeared beneath the umbrella. A tall, strikingly beautiful young woman stepped out. The moment I recognised her, relief nearly knocked the air from my lungs. She hurried towards the booth. "Cutie pie? ¿Estás bien? (Are you okay?)" she asked anxiously. Then she saw the blood on my lip and hand. "Jesus! What happened to you?" She stepped inside without hesitation and examined my injuries. "God. . . this looks awful. How did this happen?" That was all it took. Whatever remained of my composure snapped. I collapsed into her arms, sobbing so hard my chest hurt. I hadn't realized how badly I needed someone to hold me until that moment. "It's okay," she murmured, rubbing my back. "Please, calm down. Tell me what happened. Why would you call me from a telephone booth in the middle of the night?" My sobs came too hard for words. Ruslan began crying harder, so she gently took him from my arms. Thankfully, he soon quietened. "That's right. No need to cry." She softened her voice. "Look, Auntie's here." To my surprise, Ruslan giggled and wrapped his little arms around her neck. Eventually, I managed to breathe again. "Come on," she said gently. "Let's get into the car and talk. This weather is dreadful." I nodded. Once we were inside, the questions came tumbling out. "What happened? Why are you here? Where's Mano (brother)? Is everything all right? Did you two have a fight?" I settled Ruslan beside me. He had already fallen asleep again. I said nothing. Her frown deepened. "Ay, Dios (Oh, God)... I know you two haven't exactly been seeing eye to eye lately, but it can't be so bad that you'd leave in the middle of the night." Her gaze shifted towards Ruslan. "And you took him with you? Really, Ana? Does Mano know? He'd never have let you leave like this if he knew." She reached for her phone. "Let me call him-" "No!" I snatched it from her hand. "You will not call him, Natalie! You won't tell him anything!" Natalie stared at me as though I'd lost my mind. Perhaps I had. But one thing remained clear - I was never going back to Ethan. "Ana..." she said carefully. "Why not?" "Because he wouldn't care." Her brows knitted together. "There's no way he, of all people, wouldn't care. Not even if he were furious with you. He'd tear the whole damn city apart if he knew you-" "He came home drunk." The words finally escaped me. "With his childhood betrothed." Natalie fell silent. "He's probably in bed with her right now. Why would he care, Nats?" "Valerie?" My jaw tightened. "Who else? Did he have another woman before her? After her? If he did, tell me. It'll only give me one more reason to leave." Natalie stared at me before scoffing. "Enough with the jokes. Tell me what actually happened-" I threw the photographs into her lap. She picked them up silently. One after another, she looked through them, and the color slowly drained from her face. "Ana... there's no way. He would never do this." I gave a bitter laugh. "He wouldn't? But he did, Nats. Can't you see them?" "They're fake. Photo-shopped. Don't you know how madly he loves you? Why would he-" "This isn't the only thing he did!" The words tore from me. "He killed our children!" Natalie froze. Horror spread across her face as I told her everything. Tears streamed down mine as I gripped her shoulders. "Your brother is a heartless murderer, Natalie! A fucking murderer!" She stared at the photographs again. This time, she didn't argue. "Are you still going to defend him simply because he's your brother?" I whispered. Tears filled her eyes. She pulled me into her arms. "I'm sorry, Ana," she whispered. "I'm so sorry. I can't believe he did this to you. I thought he would be better than our father." Her voice broke. "But no. It seems he became just like him after all. I hate saying this because he's my brother, but he's an absolute monster for doing this." I sobbed against her until I had nothing left. Eventually, Natalie touched the cut on my lip with anger flashing in her eyes. "Did he hit you?" "No. Valerie did," My hands curled into fists. "She sent me the photographs. She showed me the recording of Ethan talking to Dr. Owen about the miscarriage." My voice shook. "She even showed me the video of them. He told her he loved her, Natalie. Not me. He kept apologizing to her for ignoring her for years." Natalie shut her eyes. "I promise I won't let this go simply because he's my brother. I'll confront him myself-" "Don't." I shook my head. "Don't tell him anything. Not until I'm gone with Ruslan." She stared at me. "What are you talking about?" "I need your help, Nats." I seized her hands. "He's asleep now-or probably fucking that home-wrecking bitch. He won't notice I'm gone yet. This is my only chance." My voice rose with panic. "I have to get Ruslan away before he comes after us. Before he kills us too. He won't let me live if he thinks I'll tell the world what he's done." "Ana, calm down." Natalie caught my shoulders. "Running away like this won't solve anything. You need to face him so that-" "I don't want to!" I broke down again. "I don't care!" My breathing became ragged. "I don't want revenge. I don't want legal battles. None of it will matter. He's rich and powerful-the CEO of Johnson Global Tech. He could buy justice or make evidence disappear. You know that better than anyone!" I wiped my tears. "He'll find me wherever I go. He'll make my life and Ruslan's unbearable. I can't let that happen." I clasped her hands again. "So please... help me disappear. That's all I'm asking. I'll let your brother live happily ever after with Valerie. Just help me get away from him." I looked into her eyes. "Didn't you call me your sister when I first started dating him? Won't you help your sister now?" Natalie stared at me for a long moment. Finally, she sighed. "Fine. Tell me where you want to go. I'll book you a flight abroad." "No. I can't take a flight like this. Ethan will track me down. I couldn't even take my phone because of that!" "Then how are you planning to leave?" I didn't know. I only knew I had to run. Then an idea struck me. "A disguise. I need fake identification. Then I can board a flight." "But that could take ages." "Not if you help me," I squeezed her hands. "I know how much money and influence the Johnsons have. That's why I called you, Nats. Help me and Ruslan get fake IDs and passports before dawn-before Ethan wakes up." She stared at me. "But, Ana, this is incredibly risky." "I'm not afraid of risks anymore," My voice hardened. "I'm afraid of living with a monster." I clasped her hands again. "Please, Nats. I'm begging you." She studied me before finally exhaling. "Fine." She turned towards the driver. "Take us to Newham. And drive fast. We haven't got much time." And just like that, we were gone. True to her word, Natalie somehow secured fake passports for Ruslan and me before dawn and drove us towards Heathrow. A direct flight would have been too easy to trace, so I planned the journey in two stages. Canada first. Then the United States. Before we reached the airport, Natalie pressed cash into my hands. I refused a card. Card transactions were too easy for Ethan to trace, reason why I didn't take Valerie's card either. "Be safe," she whispered, tears shining in her eyes. She kissed Ruslan's head. "I know you don't want to risk getting caught, but please call me somehow when you reach wherever you're going. I won't sleep until I know you're both safe." I nodded and hugged her one last time. Then I turned towards the boarding area. As I walked away, I made myself a promise. I would never face Ethan again. Even if I had to crawl through life to survive, I would never turn back. Because once a love is lost, sometimes all that remains is the courage to walk away.