Chapter 1

Everyone at the corporation envied me — from a lowly janitor to the wife of the Vice President.

My husband doted on me. I never had to lift a finger.

But no one knew that in private, he would have people bind my legs with rope.

When he saw the bloody marks on my legs, his expression would soften as he stroked my face.

"Honey, when you look so fragile, you're most like her."

I applied medicine to my leg wounds, having learned to ignore Ethan's insane ramblings.

We'd been married for three years.

I'd grown accustomed to this side of him, and I'd suffered enough from resisting.

In name, I was his legally wedded wife.

In reality, I was nothing more than a substitute for his dream girl.

But what did it matter?

I was originally just a janitor in the corporation building. I had no choice, and I couldn't escape his villa.

Whatever Ethan wanted from me, I could only comply.

He leaned against the wall, a smile still playing at his lips.

"Honey, walk for me. Let me see."

My hand paused while applying the medicine. Without much hesitation, I got out of bed efficiently and walked barefoot across the cold floor.

I tried to walk lightly, slowly.

I arched my feet too hard, tearing open the wounds I'd just treated.

Blood trickled down from my ankles, staining the floor tiles red.

But he seemed oblivious, only closing his eyes slightly, as if already asleep.

He didn't say stop, so I didn't dare stop.

The wounds hurt terribly. I lost focus for a moment and stepped down a bit harder.

My footsteps became clearly audible.

In the silent room, my heart pounded as I prayed Ethan had truly fallen asleep.

But he hadn't.

He simply opened those eyes like spring water and dropped all pretense of a smile.

He stared at me coldly.

"Walk."

After speaking, he tossed over a hemp rope covered in bloodstains.

I said nothing, quietly tying the rope around my ankles.

The coarse rope pressed against the still-bleeding wounds.

Between my two feet, only the width of a fist remained.

With each step, the rope ground into my raw flesh.

Forcing me to be even more careful, to take even more delicate steps.

I walked like this until my skin split and flesh tore.

Blood stained the hem of my dress, sticky and sickeningly sweet.

Ethan frowned.

He finally found it boring.

Having apparently seen enough of me, he brushed past me and went to his study alone.

I collapsed to the floor, hands trembling as I tried to untie the rope.

But the maid outside looked at me with the same expression as Ethan.

"Mrs. Harrington, Mr. Harrington didn't say you could stop."

I bit my lip and used the table beside me to support myself as I stumbled to my feet.

Looking at the coldness and contempt in the maid's eyes, I lowered my gaze.

"I understand."

I walked on the cold floor, from when the moon hung in the west until dawn broke.

It wasn't until Ethan finished breakfast that he leisurely wiped his hands.

"My dear, you've worked hard. At tonight's corporate gala, you'd better put on a good show."

My feet were ice cold. After walking all night, my legs trembled.

But I could only act like a puppet, dressed up and sent to the car to play the role of a loving wife alongside Ethan.

When getting out of the car, having eaten and drunk nothing with my legs aching and sore, my feet were so weak I nearly fell.

Ethan wrapped his arm around my waist and lifted me down.

Cheney, the gala host, covered her mouth and took me from his arms.

She teased with a laugh.

"Mr. Harrington really knows how to cherish someone. I should have my husband learn from you."

"The Chairman personally arranged this marriage for you — you're truly blessed!"

I forced a smile at her.

Looking back at Ethan, his face showed doting affection, but his eyes held not a trace of genuine feeling.

I felt the pain and turned back to look at Cheney.

"Yes, my fate is truly excellent."