My Fiancé Sabotaged My Career to Crown His Lover

The wind coming off the lake didn't bite; it chewed. It gnawed at the exposed skin of my arms, but the chill was nothing compared to the ice in Gabriella’s eyes. She wasn’t looking at me anymore. Her gaze had darted over my shoulder, locking onto something—someone—approaching from the garden path.

"He's coming," she whispered, a smile curving her lips that didn't reach her predatory eyes. "Let's give him a show, shall we?"

Before I could process the shift in her demeanor, her hands shot out. It wasn't a stumble or an accident. Her palms slammed into my chest with the force of a battering ram. My atrophy-weakened legs, already trembling on the slick stone, offered no resistance.

Gravity inverted. The gray sky swapped places with the stone balustrade, and then the world vanished.

The impact with the water was like hitting concrete.

The cold didn't seep in; it punched the air from my lungs instantly. It was a violent, crushing shock that seized every muscle in my body. My heavy silk gown, moments ago a symbol of my precarious status, became a lead weight, dragging me down into the murky, freezing dark.

I thrashed, my limbs heavy and unresponsive. Bubbles of silver air escaped my lips as I screamed silently. My boots scraped against the slime of the lakebed. I kicked, fighting the paralysis Dr. Holt had installed in my nerves, fighting the lake, fighting the death that pulled at my ankles.

I broke the surface, gasping, the air searing my throat like broken glass.

"Help!" Gabriella’s scream tore through the winter air, shrill and theatrical. "Marcus! Help! She's lost her mind!"

I wiped the freezing sludge from my eyes, treading water frantically as the cold began to shut down my organs. Up on the stone dock, Gabriella was on her knees. She had ripped the strap of her red dress, exposing a creamy shoulder, feigning a swoon.

Heavy footsteps thundered against the wood. Marcus appeared. He looked like a titan against the gray sky, his breath pluming in the cold air.

"Melody!" he shouted, rushing to the edge.

"Marcus!" I choked out, reaching a hand up, my fingers blue and trembling. "She pushed me! I can't—my legs—"

"She tried to drag me in!" Gabriella sobbed, clinging to Marcus’s ankle. "She attacked me! Oh god, I think I'm going to faint, my heart..."

Marcus froze. He looked down at me.

Time suspended. In that second, the universe narrowed to the connection between his eyes and mine. I saw the water lapping at my chin. I saw the terror in my own reflection in his pupils. But beneath his shock, I saw something else. A calculation. A choice.

He looked at Gabriella, shivering beautifully on the dry stone. Then he looked back at me, struggling to keep my head above the freezing surface.

He turned his back.

"I've got you," Marcus murmured, scooping Gabriella into his arms. He didn't even look over his shoulder. He cradled her against his chest, shielding her from the wind, and began to walk briskly back toward the warmth of the manor.

"Marcus!" I screamed, the water filling my mouth. "Marcus, please!"

He didn't stop. He didn't hesitate. He walked away, leaving me to the ice.

The betrayal was colder than the water. It seeped into my marrow, numbing the panic, replacing it with a hollow, terrifying clarity. *He wants me dead.*

My limbs were turning to stone. The darkness at the edge of my vision encroached, promising a warm, sleepy oblivion. *Let go,* the water whispered. *It’s over.*

*No.*

A spark of fury ignited in my chest—tiny, but hot enough to keep my heart beating. I would not die here. I would not let them win.

I clawed at the wooden pylons of the dock, splinters piercing my numb fingertips. I dragged my body through the slush, my legs useless dead weight behind me. Inch by agonizing inch, I hauled myself onto the muddy bank, retching lake water and bile onto the frozen grass.

I couldn't go to the main house. They would finish the job.

Shivering violently, my teeth chattering with a sound like cracking bones, I crawled. I dragged myself over the sharp gravel of the service path, leaving a trail of water and blood, until I reached the servant’s quarters.

The laundry room was empty. I collapsed against a running dryer, the metal humming against my frozen spine. My vision blurred, gray spots dancing in the air. I couldn't feel my feet. I couldn't feel my hands.

On the counter, a small portable television droned on, ignored by the staff who were likely catering the party.

"...breaking news from the Alexander Estate..."

I lifted my head, my neck struggling to support the weight.

There they were. Live. Marcus stood before a fireplace in the Great Hall, dry and immaculate. Gabriella stood beside him, wrapped in a blanket, looking brave and fragile.

"It is with a heavy heart," Marcus said, looking directly into the camera with practiced solemnity, "that I must announce the end of my engagement to Melody Rogers. Tragically, her accident has resulted in severe mental instability. For her own safety, she will be stepping away from public life indefinitely."

He turned to Gabriella, taking her hand. The camera zoomed in on the diamond—*my* diamond—now on her finger.

"However," Marcus continued, a ghost of a smile touching his lips, "in the midst of this tragedy, I have found a partner who shares my vision. Gabriella Fernandez is the future of the company, and the future of this family."

The room spun. The hum of the dryer faded into a high-pitched ring.

He hadn't just left me to die. He had erased me.

I opened my mouth to scream, to howl, to curse them both to hell. But no sound came out. The scream died in my throat, frozen solid. The silence that followed wasn't peace. It was the tomb of the girl I used to be.