Shattered Vows: No Second Chances

Maya POV

The rooftop air felt heavy, almost suffocating.

Crystal chandeliers hung from the open-air trellises, casting a golden glow over the elite crowd.

I stood there in the dress Liam had picked out for me, feeling less like a wife and more like a doll in a display case.

Liam snatched my hand, pulling me to his side. His grip was tight, bordering on painful—possessive.

"Maya," he crooned into the microphone, his voice dripping with fake emotion. "You are my rock. My north star."

The crowd applauded. I saw envious glances from the women, approving nods from the men.

They saw a fairy tale. I saw a horror show.

Liam turned to me, his eyes gleaming with triumph.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the velvet box.

He opened it.

The Star necklace. The real one.

Diamonds flashed under the strobe lights.

"For you," he whispered, fastening it around my neck.

The cold metal touched my skin, and I shuddered.

It felt like a collar.

"It's beautiful," someone gasped from the front row.

I looked at Liam. He was beaming, waiting for my gratitude.

Suddenly, the elevator doors pinged.

The chatter died down instantly.

Everyone turned.

Ava Sinclair stepped out.

She wasn't hiding.

She was wearing a tight white dress that hugged every curve, specifically emphasizing her baby bump.

She was flanked by two burly security guards.

She scanned the room, her eyes landing on us.

She smiled. It was a terrifying, predatory expression.

"Liam!" she called out, her voice carrying over the silence.

She walked straight toward us, the crowd parting like the Red Sea.

Liam froze. His face went gray.

Ava stopped right in front of us.

She looked at me, then at the necklace.

She pouted, turning her gaze to Liam.

"Baby, you said the Star was for *our* little one," she said, rubbing her belly. "Why is she wearing it?"

The silence was deafening.

Then, the whispers started. A low roar of shock and scandal.

Cameras flashed. Phones were raised.

I felt the blood drain from my face.

Liam dropped my hand as if it burned him.

He stepped toward Ava.

"Ava, what are you doing here?" he hissed, but his body language screamed protection. He shielded her from the cameras.

He turned his back on me.

Marc Chen, Liam's business partner, stepped out of the crowd.

He blocked my path to them.

"Maya," he whispered, his voice oily. "Don't make a scene. Liam is just having fun. You're the wife. You have the ring. Know your place."

My place?

My place was the woman who saved his life.

I looked at Liam. He was whispering to Ava, touching her arm gently.

He looked at me over his shoulder. His eyes were cold. Annoyed.

As if I was the inconvenience.

Ava laughed. She reached out and grabbed the necklace around my neck.

"This doesn't belong to you," she sneered.

She yanked it.

The clasp snapped. It stung my neck.

She held it up like a trophy, then draped it around her own neck.

"Much better," she said.

Something inside me snapped.

The numbness vanished, replaced by a volcanic fury.

I didn't think.

I stepped around Marc.

I raised my hand and slapped Ava across the face.

The sound echoed across the rooftop.

Ava screamed, stumbling back.

Liam moved instantly.

He didn't check on me. He didn't ask why.

He shoved me.

Hard.

"Get away from her!" he roared.

I wasn't expecting it.

I stumbled backward in my heels.

My foot caught on the hem of my dress.

I fell.

My head cracked against the corner of the champagne table.

Pain exploded in my skull.

Warm liquid trickled down my forehead, blinding me in one eye.

I lay on the floor, gasping for air.

Through the blur, I saw Liam.

He looked at me. He saw the blood.

He hesitated for a fraction of a second.

Then he turned back to Ava.

"Are you okay?" he asked her, frantic. "The baby?"

"I'm scared, Liam," she sobbed, clutching his arm.

"Let's go," he said.

He wrapped his arm around her and walked her toward the elevator.

He stepped over me.

He literally stepped over me to get to her.

Ava looked back as the elevator doors closed. She smirked.

The crowd stared at me. No one moved to help.

I was the spectacle. The discarded wife.

I tried to push myself up, but the room spun violently.

I collapsed back onto the cold marble.

My hand brushed against something on the floor.

My wedding ring. It must have slipped off when I fell.

It lay there in a small pool of my own blood.

I stared at it.

The symbol of our eternal love.

I closed my eyes, and the darkness took me.