The next morning, when I woke up, the bedroom was already empty. Only the lingering scent of intimacy still hung in the master suite, refusing to fade.

The hospital sent a message. My grandfather had died. Resuscitation had failed.

I rushed to the hospital and immediately pulled the security footage.

In the video, Zoe Winfield looked nothing like the gentle woman she pretended to be. She was arrogant, vicious, ripping the oxygen tube from my grandfather's face.

Her voice dripped with contempt.

"Do you know what your granddaughter is doing right now?"

"Out there selling herself for a dollar a night to pay your medical bills. And you have the nerve to stay in a room this nice."

My grandfather had been tormented to death. Right there on camera.

My fists clenched so hard my nails broke the skin. Tears hit the floor one by one.

I had been too naive back then, too foolish to understand what it meant to love someone from a different world. I had thrown myself into loving him year after year, blind and reckless, until there was nothing left of me but wounds.

We were never from the same world. The moon had once shone on me too, but that light was never meant to last.

I swallowed the bitterness and copied the surveillance footage onto a drive.

I had done everything they asked. Everything. Why wouldn't they leave me alone?

The last shred of hope I held for Seth died in my chest. I picked up my phone and booked a flight out of the country.

I sat there for what felt like hours. I sold every luxury item Seth had ever given me. Designer bags, jewelry, watches. All of it barely covered the cost of a simple funeral for my grandfather.

Now I truly had no one left.

Finally, in silence, I signed the divorce papers and placed them on the table.

When it was done, I grabbed my suitcase and walked out of that place of heartbreak for the last time.

Meanwhile, Seth sat in the car on the way to pick up his bride, and an inexplicable wave of panic surged through him.

He couldn't place where the feeling came from. He only knew, with sudden and suffocating certainty, that something vital was slipping through his fingers.

His assistant sent a message: the investigation into what happened years ago was complete. They had also uncovered something else.

Three years later, the hidden second half of that recording finally surfaced.