Chapter 1

Elena's POV

When I returned to Blackwood Manor, the entire estate was already busy preparing for our fifth anniversary celebration.

Fresh flowers were being delivered one truck after another. Workers hurried across the courtyard, hanging lights and arranging decorations.

One of the housekeepers noticed me and beamed.

"Mrs. Blackwood, Mr. Blackwood has personally approved every detail. He said nothing less than perfect was worthy of his Donna."

Another maid couldn't help chiming in.

"I've worked for the Blackwoods for fifteen years. I've never seen a Don love his wife the way Mr. Blackwood loves you."

"They say the anniversary celebration is going to be the biggest gathering the family has ever hosted. He's inviting everyone just so the whole city knows you're the only Donna he'll ever recognize."

I kept walking without saying a word.

Everyone said I must have saved the world in a previous life to marry a man like Damian Blackwood. A week ago, I would have believed every word.

Then I discovered the truth.

For the past six months, every so-called family meeting and every "business trip" had ended at the same address.

The same woman. The same bed.

While the entire Blackwood family admired our marriage, Damian had been climbing into another woman's bed over and over again.

The first time I saw the videos, it felt as if my heart had been torn apart.

Every video felt like another stab to the heart, reopening a wound I could never heal.

By the end, there was nothing left but a mangled, bleeding mess.

I still remembered when we were kids, growing up in one of New York's roughest neighborhoods.

A group of street punks had cornered me in an alley.

Damian charged in without hesitation, beating them back and shielding me behind him.

"Don't be afraid," he told me. "I'll protect you from now on."

I remembered another time as well.

The Blackwood family had been ambushed. A runaway truck barreled straight toward our car.

Damian's first instinct wasn't to save himself. It was to throw himself over me.

He nearly died that day. His injuries left him in a coma for eight months.

When he finally woke up, the first thing he asked wasn't about his condition.

"How's Elena?" When the nurse told him I was unharmed, he finally relaxed.

"Good. As long as she's okay, nothing else matters."

That was the moment I truly fell in love with him.

With the man who was willing to risk his life for mine.

But no matter how hard I tried, I could never understand one thing.

How could a man who would die for me also climb into another woman's bed without a shred of guilt?

Could men really separate love from desire?

I gently ran my thumb over the wedding ring on my finger before slipping it off.

Damian had commissioned it from a renowned Italian jeweler.

He once told me there would never be another ring like it in the world. Because I was his one and only.

But now, I didn't need it anymore.

On the sidewalk nearby, a disabled veteran sat in a wheelchair, quietly asking for donations. Only a few crumpled bills lay in the small metal cup beside him.

I walked over and dropped the ring inside.

The old man stared at me in shock. "Ma'am, this is far too valuable."

"Sell it," I said calmly. "The money will be enough for you to start over."

He thanked me over and over again.

In truth, I was understating it. The center diamond alone was worth millions of dollars. But to me, it was worthless now.

If a wedding ring represented love and loyalty, then mine had lost all meaning the day Damian betrayed me.

Suddenly, my phone rang. Damian's name flashed across the screen.

"Elena, where are you?" His voice was urgent and concerned, as though he were genuinely worried about me.

"I just went out for a walk," I replied.

"Tell me where you are. I'll come get you."

"That's not necessary. I'm heading home."

"No." His tone left no room for argument.

"Stay where you are. I'm coming." Less than five minutes later, a black armored sedan pulled up in front of me.

Damian stepped out quickly. He removed his suit jacket, draped it over my shoulders, and pulled me into his arms.

"Why are you dressed so lightly? What if you catch a cold?" Resting against his chest, I slowly lifted my head.

Near the collar of his shirt, several bright red scratches marked his neck. Fresh scratches. With faint traces of bite marks. The scent of another woman's perfume still lingered on him.

So before coming to find me, he had just left her bed.

Damian took my hand gently, then suddenly froze.

"Elena, where's your wedding ring?"