After Marriage, My Good Luck Became a Curse

Claudia’s sobs were raw and desperate, drawing sympathy from everyone around.

But I only shook my head, lowered my gaze, and pried my clothes free from her grip.

The sharp crack of a slap rang out. My head snapped to the side.

“Selene,” Lawrence seethed, “I was the one who asked Claudia to raise Alex. If you need someone to hate, hate me—don’t take it out on her!”

His voice dropped to a cold threat. “If you don’t agree to save Claudia, I’ll divorce you. Right here. Right now.”

In all the years of our cold war, Lawrence had tried everything—pleading, anger, even cruelty—but he had never once uttered that word. Divorce.

I stared at him, momentarily hollow, my mind flashing back to the beginning.

We had met young. He was the only person who never cared about my so-called lucky star, never asked me for miracles. With him, I could laugh, breathe, and be myself.

When we fell in love, he treated me like I was the only thing in the world worth cherishing. Everyone believed our story would end in happily ever after.

Until the day of our wedding.

That morning, the Ashford family’s stock market holdings collapsed, losing tens of billions in a single day. Bankruptcy loomed.

Before a hall full of guests, Lawrence begged me—for the first time—to save the Ashford family.

Everyone thought I would agree. It was such a small thing for me, and I had saved countless entrepreneurs before.

But this time, I clenched my teeth and refused to speak.

Even when he and the entire Ashford family knelt, bowing their heads to the floor, I stayed silent. Tears streamed down my face as I wrote a blood oath: I would never utter another word again.

The room had gone deathly quiet. Lawrence’s devastation was something I still saw in my dreams.

In the years that followed, he swung between tenderness and cruelty, desperate to make me speak again.

When Alex was born, he clung to hope—that motherly love would make me break my vow. But all he saw was me rocking our crying infant in helpless silence.

When Alex could walk, he once ran toward me from across the street—straight into the path of a car. I froze, unable even to shout “Stop.”

Disappointment hardened into something colder. Lawrence stopped expecting anything from me. Claudia secured the investments he needed, pulling him out of crisis. From then on, he spent his days with her, taking Alex along. To outsiders, they looked like a perfect little family of three.

---

The sharp voice of a nurse snapped me back to the present.

“The boy from the car accident—his condition’s critical! Blood pressure only seventy! Get the defibrillator, now!”

The words struck me like a hammer blow. My knees buckled, and I sank to the floor.

Lawrence yanked me upright.

“Selene, you refuse to help others—but what about Alex? He’s your son!” His voice cracked. “I saw you tell an old man on his deathbed that he would live—and he lived for another ten years!”

“Alex’s life is hanging by a thread. How can you just watch him die?”

I could only weep in silence.

Something in him snapped. His hand shot to a nearby tray, grabbing a scalpel. The cold steel pressed to my throat.

“Selene, if you don’t speak to save Alex—believe me—I’ll kill you!”

His eyes were wild, bloodshot, pleading and furious all at once.

But I closed my eyes, tears sliding down my cheeks, and held my silence.