The next morning, the island felt smaller.

I moved through the villa like a ghost — smiling for the children, playing with them on the beach, reading stories with a steady voice while my mind screamed. Every glance at Alexander sent a fresh wave of grief and fear through me. He was the father of my children. The man I had surrendered to completely. The monster who had murdered my mother to own me.

He watched me constantly now. His eyes followed my every movement, soft with love one moment, sharp with suspicion the next.

After lunch, while the children napped, he found me in the garden. I was sitting...