A Masterpiece and Her Reproduction

That night, Julian slept soundly with me in his arms.

I lay awake the entire night, feigning sleep, my eyes squeezed shut until the moment he finally left the next morning.

It was just a few steps from our bedroom to the home office—what he called his shrine to me. From our first anniversary gift to my most recent design sketches, he had organized it all meticulously.

Anyone who saw this would be moved by his devotion.

Only I knew that hidden in the wall behind a bookcase was an encrypted private server he'd once mentioned in a drunken confession.

I remembered how remorseful he'd seemed. At the time, lost in the fog of love, I hadn't thought anything of it.

When he woke up the next day, he had no memory of revealing his secret.

With that in mind, I moved the bookcase, found the hidden port, and connected my laptop.

Accessing the server meant breaking through layers of complex passwords—a clear sign of how fiercely its owner guarded the contents.

I never expected that the information security course I'd minored in at university would come in handy like this.

After cracking the passwords, I opened the root directory. The first thing that caught my eye was a folder named with a single letter: C.

The first folders I opened were essentially a digital love letter to Cora, filled with unsent drafts crafted with a passion and restraint I had never seen from him.

He was always so effortless with me. I'd told myself he was simply past the age of feverish passion.

It turned out he just didn't love me.

The files in the last encrypted partition were a series of hasty, chilling notes.

"Someone is trying to attack Cora through the media. She was right. People like us can't afford to have a weakness! I have to protect her!"

The document's timestamp was from years ago.

"That girl is so easy to control."

"I was thinking about Cora's art exhibition today, and Rowan thought I was worried about her design competition. It doesn't matter. As long as Cora is safe, I'll let her believe whatever she wants."

"I'm sure she'd be willing to give up her career just to be my wife."

"I'll pay for this. I orchestrated the hostile takeover of her studio, ensuring everything fell under my control. She shattered, just as I'd planned. Now, she'll never want to leave my side. I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to her."

I pressed my fingers hard against my eyelids, stopping the tears before they could fall.

So all along, I was never the one he wanted.

From our first meeting to falling in love and getting married... all of it was just a real-life version of The Truman Show.

I shut down the server and carefully returned everything to its place. I held my composure just long enough to leave the office. The moment the door clicked shut behind me, I shattered, collapsing to the floor in a storm of sobs.

I curled up on the cold marble, the memory of that vicious business attack replaying in my mind.

Back then, Julian and I were inseparable. I had just won a major design award and was about to surprise him with the news of my pregnancy. Instead, I returned to my studio to find it being maliciously shorted and taken over.

Those corporate vultures dragged me through the mud. They ruthlessly tore apart everything I had built, and the immense stress caused me to miscarry.

I was on the verge of blacking out when Julian burst in, scooping me into his arms.

It was around that time my trauma took root. I couldn't bear to be away from him, and my health spiraled.

He comforted me, assuring me it was okay if we didn't have children.

It turned out he never wanted children with me. He was the one who had made sure we could never have one.

The salvation I thought I'd found, the love I bore him—all a sham. He had orchestrated everything.

A wave of despair choked me. My body started to convulse on the cold floor.

After the wave of intense pain passed, I gradually calmed.

My moments with Julian began to replay in my mind, every detail scrutinized.

Over five years, I had weathered countless business attacks and public assaults, and each time, he had rescued me with lightning speed.

His concern had been real, yes. But it wasn't for me. It was the fear that if his shield fell, the one he was truly protecting would be exposed.

With a trembling hand, I picked up my phone and began digging into the art foundation under his name.