Victoria Ardent’s POV
I used to believe my life was a story of quiet happiness. There was no grand passion, no whirlwind romance—just a simple, steady existence. I married young, as my father arranged, to a man he assured me would take care of me. Thomas was kind, patient, and strong. He never raised his voice, never made me doubt my place beside him.
And in time, I grew to love him.
When our daughter, Celeste, was born, my world became brighter. She was my pride, my joy—my reason for everything. I watched her grow, from a tiny bundle wrapped in blankets to a confident young girl with her father’s sharp wit and my stubborn heart. Our house was filled with laughter, her childish giggles echoing through the halls. Even on the hardest days, when Thomas worked late and exhaustion clung to my bones, I was happy. As long as I had them, I was happy.
Thomas left home one morning, pressing a kiss to my forehead like always. But he never came back. A car accident, they told me. Quick, they assured me. But grief is never quick. It settled into my bones, heavy and suffocating, dragging me down with every breath. At night, when Celeste was asleep, I cried into my pillow, my body wracked with silent sobs. But I had to endure. I had to be strong for her. She was just fifteen—too young to lose a father. Too young to see her mother break.
But as time passed, I began to breathe again. Celeste was growing, blossoming into a strong young woman. She smiled more often, laughed a little louder. It wasn’t the same, but it was enough. Watching her move forward gave me the strength to do the same.
My husband’s brother.
He stood at my doorstep, a polite smile stretched over a face I barely knew. He hadn’t attended the funeral. Hadn’t sent condolences. Yet now, here he was, offering his hand like it was salvation.
"You can’t manage everything on your own, Victoria." His voice was slick with false sympathy. "Marry me, and I’ll take care of you. Of Celeste."
My stomach twisted. I knew what he wanted—everything Thomas built, the company, the estate, the life my husband had spent years creating. He wanted control. Over me. Over Celeste. And if I refused? He made it clear: he would strip everything away. Our home, our security, our future. He held all the power, and he knew it.
A monster in the shape of a man.
If I married him, I would lose everything. My dignity. My freedom. My very existence.
And then a thought took root in my mind.
Maybe the problem was me.
If I were gone, there would be nothing to fight over. He would leave Celeste alone. He wouldn’t destroy her future. He wouldn’t take everything from her.
It was a fragile hope, but it was all I had left.
The night I left, Celeste was fast asleep. I sat beside her, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. She mumbled something, shifting in her dreams, and my heart splintered. She would hate me for this. I prayed that, in time, she would understand. That she would be safe. That she would live a life free of monsters.
I walked through the city, my steps slow but steady. The bridge loomed ahead, stretching over the dark, endless river. The water below was cold and still. If I jumped, it would be quick. Unlike grief. Unlike suffering.
I gripped the railing, staring down at the abyss. I could still turn back.
But then I thought of Celeste.
Would she cry for me? Would she hate me for leaving her? Would she miss me on her wedding day? She always talked about that boy, the one she pretended not to like. She would never admit it, but a mother knows. It was love. A mother always knows.
Maybe I could endure it. Maybe I could drink the bitter sip and marry him. Maybe I could survive, just for her.
Just as I took a step back, the wind howled through the night. A violent gust slammed into me, and suddenly, I was falling.
The impact stole the breath from my lungs. The icy water wrapped around me, dragging me under. I struggled, my limbs flailing, but the river was stronger. It pulled me down, deeper and deeper. My chest burned. My vision blurred.
’I don’t want to die,’ I thought desperately. ’I don’t—’
A hand. Strong. Unyielding.
Arms wrapped around me, pulling me from the depths, dragging me back to the surface. I coughed, gasping for air. The stars above spun wildly, the world tilting. And through the haze, I saw him.
A stranger with sharp eyes and a presence that felt as steady as the earth beneath my feet.