I Signed My Freedom on Our Anniversary

She hadn’t even started her cycle—so why did the pain hit her like a bullet all of a sudden?

Valentina rose, intending to leave, but the door wouldn’t budge. Locked from the outside.

Then came Selene’s smug, venomous voice from beyond the door.

“Well, well… how’s the cast-off love treating you tonight?”

“Don Desmond has always been mine,” Selene spat, each word dripping with arrogance. “From the very start. Now that I’m back, you’d better get out of our way.

“And really… showing up tonight? Trying to steal my spotlight?”

Valentina doubled over, clutching her stomach. Cold sweat ran down her temple. Her voice was weak, but it held defiance.

“Selene… if you want him, take him. I’m done with caring about him.”

A cruel, icy laugh echoed through the door. “Oh, that’s rich. You think I’d buy that?

“You stole my mother’s attention once, and now you want to steal my man too? Who the hell do you think you are?

“You’re staying in here tonight. No one’s coming to rescue you.”

With a smirk, Selene dragged a “Restricted Area—Do Not Enter” sign and planted it by the door.

The auction’s rules forbade phones in certain rooms, and no one but Selene would dare enter this way.

Wracked with pain, Valentina slid to the floor, her back against the cold wall. Strength slipping fast, she pounded the door, gasping out desperate cries.

“Help… someone… anyone… please…”

But passersby saw the warning sign and ignored her. No one came.

She didn’t know how long she screamed before the agony swallowed her, and darkness claimed her.

When the auction finally ended and Valentina had not appeared, Don Desmond frowned, a crease forming on his brow.

Selene looked up, feigning innocence. “Mondy… maybe she’s upset because I took her seat?

“If I knew she’d get so sensitive, I never would’ve taken it.”

Desmond’s gaze hardened. “You’re the legitimate heir of the Marwoods. Do you think it’s right for a secretary to take your place?

“Forget it. Let her stew. She’s gotten a little too proud lately. Let’s go home.”

Out of sight, Selene’s lips curved in triumph. Valentina… I told you—you can’t beat me. Not my mother, not my lover.

That night, Valentina didn’t return to the estate. And not once did Don Desmond ask after her.

The next morning, during routine cleaning, a janitor unlocked the restroom door.

There she was—huddled in a corner, soaked through, trembling even half-conscious from the night’s cold.

The woman rushed to her side. “Ma’am… how did you get locked in here? You don’t look well. Should I call an ambulance?”

Valentina’s wet lashes flickered open. She pressed her arms against the floor and forced herself up.

“Thank you… but no need.”

The ache in her belly had eased, but the chill of the restroom had been relentless.

She had truly expected Don Desmond to check on her at least once. Clearly, she had misjudged.

She remembered the time Selene vanished for a mere ten minutes—Desmond had nearly dialed 911 in a panic.

And yet… after a whole night of her absence, he hadn’t lifted a finger to find his wife.

So this is what it means, Valentina thought bitterly, love versus indifference.

Leaning against the wall for support, she stepped out slowly, one foot at a time, and hailed a cab home.

Once in the car, she retrieved her phone.

Not a single message from Desmond.

Instead… multiple texts from Rafael.

[Valentina… I can’t wait a month. One week. I’m coming for you in seven days.]