I Died in His Arms, Now He Lives in Regret

Damien looked at me coldly, a mocking smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "What's the matter, can't take it anymore? If Isla were here, she would have endured to the end."

Isla again.

For five years, every mention of her name felt like a knife stabbing into my heart.

"Mr. Rhodes, I'm not Isla," I said, meeting his eyes directly. "I never was."

His eyes wavered for a moment before returning to their icy state. "Of course, you're not her. You never will be."

Ha! Five years, and I am still just a substitute, a shadow not even worthy of a name.

I turned and walked towards the door, the wet hem of my dress dragging across the marble floor, leaving a trail of water.

"Sienna!" he called from behind, his voice filled with authority. "Stop!"

I paused but did not turn around.

"The party isn't over, you are Mrs. Rhodes, come back here!" His voice was laced with anger.

I turned to face him, looking at his heartbreakingly handsome face. "Mrs. Rhodes? I'm just a shadow of Mrs. Rhodes."

Camilla, clinging to his arm, flashed a smug smile. "Brother-in-law, don't worry about her. Today is your anniversary; don't let her ruin the mood."

Damien let out a cold laugh. "I said it when I married her five years ago; she was just a stand-in."

He walked closer to me, his tall figure casting a shadow. Leaning down to whisper in my ear, he said, "A stand-in should know their place, Sienna."

The familiar scent of his cologne made my mind hazy. This man had held me countless times in the dark, but always called out another woman's name.

I looked up at him steadily. "Five years, Mr. Rhodes, and your heart is colder than this pool. I can't warm it."

He looked surprised, as if he hadn't expected me to fight back.

"Sister, that's not right," Camilla pretended to care, flaunting the necklace, "Brother-in-law treats you so well; he gave you a mansion, luxury cars, jewels—everything Isla dreamed of."

"Yes, he gave me everything but his heart," I said softly.

Damien's face darkened. "Today is a special day. You will stay here and drink this glass of wine with me!"

He grabbed my wrist roughly, his grip strong enough to crush bone.

I struggled, which only fueled his anger as he clamped down harder.

"Damien, let go of me!" I almost screamed.

The entire ballroom fell silent, all eyes on us.

His eyes narrowed dangerously. "You dare to order me?"

"I'm not ordering you. I'm just asking you—let me go," my voice was barely audible.

Damien suddenly released his grip, laughing coldly. "It seems five years of a wealthy life haven't taught you gratitude."

Rubbing my reddened wrist, I smiled bitterly. "Gratitude? Grateful for being a shadow of another woman?"

"Enough!" He slammed the table, shattering wine glasses. "You signed the contract yourself!"

Yes, five years ago, I signed that "stand-in wife" contract to save my dying father.

"The contract was for marriage, not endless humiliation and cold violence," I lifted my head, stubbornly looking at him.

Camilla gently tugged Damien's arm. "Brother-in-law, don't be angry. Isla would be heartbroken to see you like this."

Damien's expression softened immediately, looking at Camilla with tenderness.

I suddenly felt utterly exhausted.

"I want a divorce," I said softly, but it plunged the ballroom into deathly silence again.