Chapter 1

When the wire snapped and I plunged from the set’s stunt harness, Damon was busy visiting the studio’s newly signed starlet.

Seeing my body falling, his immediate instinct was to pull Maisie into his arms.

“It is dangerous, do not look!”

Then he scooped up the faint, frightened starlet and rushed straight to the nearest hospital.

That night, in Damon’s coat pocket, I found a prenatal report that did not belong to me.

I folded it neatly and put it back.

Then I dialed the number I had not called in five years.

“Chase, I regret it.”

01.

“Are you sure this time, Hazel? If you lie to me again, I will not let you run away.”

When I hung up, Damon had just walked through the front door.

He reeked of an unfamiliar perfume, sweet and heavy enough to make my head spin.

Actually, it was not unfamiliar at all. It was Maisie’s signature scent.

We were filming on the same set, and I knew that smell all too well.

The moment Damon saw me, his brow furrowed in irritation.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in the hospital? What are you doing here?”

“The doctor said it wasn’t life-threatening and that I could rest at home for a few days,” I replied quietly.

Damon said nothing more. He pulled out his phone and started scrolling.

Watching the tender smile form on his lips, I did not need to guess. He was texting Maisie.

Whenever he was with me, his face was permanently locked in a scowl.

Only when dealing with Maisie did his expression soften into genuine warmth.

Love and indifference were painfully obvious.

I said nothing, quietly wheeling myself toward the bedroom to pack my bags.

When I rolled back out with my suitcase, Damon finally looked up from the sofa, his brow tightening again. “It is late. Where are you going?”

It was almost funny. In seven years together, Damon had never once offered a genuine word of care.

Even today on set, when the wire snapped and I plummeted thirty feet, his only concern was shielding Maisie from the shock.

If not for the crash pad below, I would already be dead.

The doctor told me my spine was severely damaged and that only specialized surgery in New York could give me a chance to walk again.

Yet Damon had not even noticed the wheelchair beneath me.

Or maybe he noticed and simply did not care. He was blind to my pain, my injuries, and all the years I had sacrificed for him.

Fortunately, it was all over now.

Taking a deep breath, I swallowed the bitter ache in my chest and said, “I am going out of town for a while.”

“For how long?” he asked. He seemed unusually talkative tonight.

Before I could answer, he added, “Maisie has an underwater scene next week and needs a stunt double. Come back early so you don’t delay production.”

My body froze. I thought my heart was numb, but disappointment still sliced through me.

“Damon, I am terrified of water.”

“You need to overcome your fears. Why do you always have to be so dramatic? Look at Maisie. She works so hard and won multiple awards just one year after signing with us.”

“Then look at you. You are getting older and still stuck as a nameless extra. Hazel, sometimes I wonder if I was blind to ever choose a woman like you.”

His words struck like a blunt knife twisting in my chest.

A woman like me?

What kind of woman was I?

The kind who poured her entire heart and soul into building his career, only to be discarded like garbage?