Chapter 1
Gabriella Hensley and Reynald Dalloz were notoriously known as a couple bound not by love, but by pure hatred.
He filled their wedding venue with funeral wreaths, wishing her a quick death in paradise–so she smashed a bottle over his head and sent him to the hospital.
He brought his kept woman to their marital bed–she burned the house down.
At a social event, his new mistress called her name out loud, and she yelled back at her.
Reynald once said they’d never stop until one of them was dead.
His words turned out to be prophetic.
It was almost over–Reynald’s heart was failing again. He had two weeks
left.
And Gabriella was ready to donate hers.
She walked out of the hospital, donation papers signed, just as the mall’s big screen lit up with a live stream.
Reynald was live broadcasting a bet to the entire internet.
“Which side of Gabriella’s breast had her mole–left or right?”
“Betting on left.”
“I say both. Waiting for Mr. Dalloz to drop the nudes.”
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“No pic, no proof. Let’s see if he honors the bet.”
Reynald looked sharp, smug, his eyes through the screen like a knife.
“Ten minutes,” he said, “and you’ll have your answer.”
Gabriella went cold.
Reynald was crazier–meaner–than he’d ever been.
She turned on her heel and ran to his hospital room. Skipped the elevator. Nine minutes. She tore up the stairs to the top floor.
Reynald was lounging in his chair, surrounded by praise, like royalty. Next to him sat a woman in a white dress.
Gabriella froze.
She was Vanessa Lincoln.
The replacement Reynald had searched for–the one who looked the most
like her.
He’d treated Vanessa like a treasure for five years–just to remind Gabriella that he could love anyone. Anyone but her.
Reynald tapped his long fingers on the table. A photo sat face down under
the camera.
“Time’s up.”
Gabriella’s face drained. She lunged and slammed her hand on the photo.
Laughter exploded in the room like a bomb.
“Gabriella, don’t wanna show the pic? You gonna flash us live instead?”
“Damn, that’s generous. Too generous.”
Chin T
“Strip! Strip!”
They mentioned her name with mockery. Each one hit her chest like a
stone.
Reynald’s lips curved, but the smile never reached his eyes. He pried Gabriella’s fingers off the photo, one by one.
“Reynald, what am I to you?“.
Her palm was empty. The cold seeped straight into her heart.
He raised a brow, sneering. “You tell me.”
Laughter exploded again around the room.
Everyone knew Reynald didn’t love her. She had been a joke from day
one.
Gabriella bit her lip until it bled, watching him flip the photo over. She shut her eyes in despair.
“Shit–the livestream got taken down!”
She opened her eyes. Saved.
She’d reported the stream before coming. Just in time.
Reynald tossed the photo in a drawer and slammed it shut, gaze sharp as a blade.
“Too early to celebrate, honey. On my funeral day, I’ll make sure your nudes are plastered across every street in this city. If I die, don’t think you’ll have it easy.”
Gabriella stiffened, ice crawling into her bones.
“Reynald, you won’t have a funeral. I’ll…”
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He stood and grabbed her chin. His eyes were full of madness. “What, scared?
“Don’t worry. I won’t kill you. I’ll make sure you live every day
every day in hell. And never forget–murderer’s blood runs through your veins.”
Her heart clenched. Pain, sharp and deep.
The murdered one was her mom.
Reynald’s first heart issue came at five. It was her mom who paid for and arranged his surgery and saved his life. She funded his schooling, too.
He wasn’t the first her mom had helped. Her mom was kind. Too kind. But five years later, another act of kindness got her tricked into the mountains by Gabriella’s biological father.
There, abuse became her daily life. She broke down mentally.
At 15, Gabriella was sold by her father–her first night bought for 1,500 dollars.
When the debt collectors came, her mom clung to her tightly, shielding her from the blows. Fists, kicks–her mom took them all. Even as blood soaked her body, she refused to let go.
And just as she collapsed, the door burst open. Reynald and the Hensley family arrived–too late.
Her father was executed. She survived, only to become the target of everyone’s hatred.
They all asked, “Why wasn’t it she who died?” Gabriella asked the same,
too.
After the funeral, she went to the rooftop alone. She was about to jump, but Reynald pulled her back.
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“It’s not your fault.
“Don’t be scared. I’m here.”
The Hensley family didn’t want her. He ignored everyone and took her in.
When her trauma flared, he dropped everything and took her across oceans to chase auroras, to live through polar days and nights, to stand in the southernmost cold and feel the purest glaciers.
When she got sick, he stayed by her side every second; he walked her through the darkest nights.
Back then, Reynald was salvation. A second chance at life. How could she not fall for him?
At 20, he confessed. The same year, he proposed.
On their wedding day, she floated in her dress, heart full of dreams. And
then he smashed them.
The banquet was filled with funeral wreaths. At the center–her giant black–and–white photo.
Reynald looked at her, smiling cruelly. “Welcome to hell, Gabriella.”
That marriage certificate tied her life to his.
In that instant, all the warmth from the past turned to poison. It was clear. He, like everyone else, hated her to the core.
She laughed through tears, grabbed a wine bottle, and smashed it over his head, sending him to the hospital.
Since then, for every move he made, she hit back harder.
And the title of Mrs. Dalloz? It became a joke in every social circle.
But now, the joke was about to end.
Gabriella’s eyes burned. “Reynald, can we spend the last two weeks. peacefully? On the final day, I’ll give you anything you want.”
His brows arched. He smiled, but his eyes burned with cruelty. “Then die for me, will you?”
“I will.” Her voice was strained but firm.
“Great.”
He pushed open the window, eyes like a madman. “Jump.”
