He threw money on the bed after our one-night stand.
I threw it back in his face at his own inauguration.
By sundown, we were engaged. By the week's end — married.
Franklin Flemington needed a wife to secure his empire. I needed a miracle to save my family. For two years, we played our parts flawlessly — the golden couple the whole city envied.
Behind closed doors, I was invisible to him.
When the two years were up, I handed him divorce papers without blinking.
He stared at me like I'd lost my mind. "I've given you everything a husband should. What more do you want from me, Octavia?"
I smiled, signed my name, and walked out.
I thought that was the end. I thought I'd finally won.
I forgot one thing — Franklin Flemington has never lost anything in his life. And he has no intention of starting with me.
Game on.

The world didn't rush back in a grand, cinematic sweep. It arrived in jagged, sensory pieces. First came the voices—hushed, clinical Portuguese and English—then the movement. I felt the subtle, jarring shift of the stretcher as I was wheeled down a corridor that smelled of high-grade disinfectant and ozone, a scent far too sterile to belong to the world of the living.


"We are transferring you now, Mr. Flemington," the doctor said, walking in rhythm with the medics. He held a digital clipboard, his thumb scrolling through my vitals one last time. "You've stabilized enough for the long-haul. The air ambulance is fueled and waiting on the tarmac."


I turned my head slightly, wincing as a dull, throbbing ache migrated from my leg to the base of my spine. But I ignored it. Pain was a reminder that I was still present. I watched the fluorescent lights flicker overhead, each one a mile marker pulling me away from the green hell that had nearly consumed my soul.


Chapter 202 - ~ 202