The next morning, the island felt different.

The same beautiful villa, the same ocean view, the same man sleeping beside me — but everything was poisoned now.

I lay awake, staring at the ceiling, Alexander’s arm heavy across my pregnant belly. His breathing was steady and peaceful, like he hadn’t just admitted to destroying my mother.

My hand trembled as I gently lifted his arm and slipped out of bed. The rose-gold collar felt like a noose. I went to the bathroom, locked the door, and stared at my reflection.

Pregnant. Married. Collared. Owned.

And now I knew the truth.

Tears fell silently as I remembered my mother’s terrified voice...