"You know she was set to be the next great dance master, right? All that shine, all that talent—and now she just sits in the palm of my hand."
I fought with him over that recording. I told him we were done.
Oliver thought I was making a scene.
His brow knotted, and his tone went ice-cold.
"All this over a recording you don't even know is real?"
"Is our marriage a joke to you? Or do you just not understand rules—what you're meant to hear and what you're not?"
He sent me overseas and let strangers look down on me, nitpick me, discipline me however they pleased.
I watched those same people drop the cruelty from their faces in an instant and fawn all over him the moment he walked in.
And I watched how he looked at the marks on my body with that flat, unmoved expression.
"These people are here to help you. Don't be so guarded."
Davina called it "emotional desensitization"—showed me flirtatious messages between her and Oliver, compromising photos, one after another.
She made me practice the correct responses for every kind of humiliating scenario.
The rift between Oliver and me kept growing.
I asked for a breakup more than once.
Oliver never answered. Every time, he just slammed the door and left. And every time, the only thing that followed was another trip overseas for more etiquette training.
By then, I could barely tell where my own mind ended and the fog began.
I broke.
Davina stood off to the side, sneering. "This unhinged mess—and she thinks she deserves a Vance heir?"
They broke two of my ribs.
I woke up in a psychiatric hospital.
Dr. Kim told Oliver I'd been hurting myself.
He looked at me with open disappointment. "Why can't you just give in to them for once?"
"Do it for me. Can you do that much?"
"Just be good, and I promise—this is the last time I'll send you abroad."
Tears clung to my lashes, trembling, ready to fall.
I stared at him. My mouth opened, closed, opened again. In the end, nothing came out.
I let him pull me into his arms.
And only then did I realize.
There was no warmth in Oliver Vance's embrace.
By the end of the month, the elite-family qualification assessment arrived. I ignored it.
Oliver's expression darkened. He seized my wrist.
"Still throwing a fit over someone who doesn't matter?"
I said nothing.
My gaze drifted to the marks on his neck. I smiled.
Whatever softness had been left in his eyes froze over completely.