Chapter 1

Freezing Atlantic water filled Flora Love's mouth, burning her lungs as the capsized yacht sank behind her into the Long Island typhoon—one they had sailed straight into that morning, ignoring every official typhoon warning from the Coast Guard. Her vision blurred, and her numb fingers finally brushed the edge of a floating wooden plank.

Before she could grip it, a large, bony hand yanked the wood away. Eloy Jensen, her husband of three years and the CEO of Jensen Enterprises, shoved the plank toward Kizzie Delaney, who was splashing wildly a few feet away.

Kizzie clung to the wood, shivering as tears mixed with the rain on her face.

"Eloy, I'm so scared! Am I going to die out here just like my parents did eight years ago?"

At the mention of the parents who had supposedly died saving his life, Eloy's amber eyes constricted. Without a second of hesitation, he unbuckled the only bright orange life vest he was wearing.

Flora choked on a mouthful of bitter saltwater, her stomach dropping like lead. She kicked her legs with the last of her strength, lunging forward to grab the hem of Eloy's soaked shirt.

"Eloy, I'm your legal wife!" Flora's voice was raw, her knuckles turning white against the dark fabric. "I can't swim!"

Eloy pried her stiff fingers off his shirt one by one, his voice devoid of any warmth.

"If I had made a scene, would you have saved me first?" Flora's voice was barely a whisper against the wind.

He pressed his thin lips together and said nothing. She already had her answer.

She had known it deep in her bones for three whole years—she was never more than a stand-in for Kizzie, the untouchable white moonlight he had carried in his heart since he was a boy. Every soft glance, every quiet tolerance, had never truly been for her. He would never choose her first, not even on the brink of death.

"Kizzie's parents died pulling me out of a fire. I cannot let anything happen to their only daughter. Hold on by yourself for a few minutes!"

He forced the life vest over Kizzie's shoulders and wrapped an arm around her waist, swimming toward the approaching rescue speedboat without looking back once.

Flora lost her leverage. A massive wave slammed into her chest, dragging her down into the black depths. Freezing water rushed into her nostrils, and her chest convulsed as darkness swallowed her vision.

In the final second before she lost consciousness, a muscular forearm locked around her waist, and the crisp, familiar scent of cedarwood cut through the stench of the sea.

When Flora opened her dark brown eyes again, the smell of saltwater was replaced by antiseptic. She was lying in a private hospital room on Manhattan's Upper East Side, a heart monitor beeping steadily beside her bed.

The heavy door swung open, hitting the wall. Eloy strode in carrying the damp chill of the rain, followed closely by the head of Jensen Enterprises' legal department.

Flora's throat burned like raw flesh. She reached toward the nightstand for a glass of water, but Eloy did not even glance at her pale face.

He threw a thick stack of documents onto her blanket with a loud slap.

"Sign this maritime liability waiver."

Flora propped herself up on trembling elbows, her vision swimming as she looked down at the bold title. The clauses stated that she admitted full responsibility for crashing the yacht into the reef due to operational negligence.

Her chest tightened until she could barely draw breath. She looked up at him.

"Kizzie insisted on taking the yacht out despite the typhoon warning, and she was at the helm when the typhoon struck. You want me to take the blame for her?"

Eloy frowned, pulling a hand-rolled cigar from his pocket and rolling it irritably between his fingers.

"Kizzie is traumatized. The Jensen family's public relations cannot afford a scandal right now. You are my wife, and it's your duty to share the burden for the family."

Flora lowered her gaze, a cold smile tugging at the corner of her pale lips. Under the cover of the blanket, her left thumb pressed the side button of her black Apple Watch, activating the voice recorder.

"And if I refuse to sign?" she asked, raising her eyes to meet his. The warmth that used to fill her gaze over the past three years was gone, leaving only dead ash.

Eloy froze for a split second at her pushback, clenching his fists until his knuckles turned white before letting out a cold laugh.

"Refuse? Then you can forget about ever stepping out from under the Jensen family's watch for the rest of your life."

Flora needed to get out of this legal trap cleanly and secure the cash to fund her exit. She reached over, picked up the Montblanc pen from the tray, and uncapped it. Without another word, she signed her name across the bottom of the waiver and the attached non-disclosure agreement.

Eloy stared at her swift signature, a flash of annoyed confusion crossing his face as if her easy compliance bothered him.

The legal director stepped forward and held out a slip of paper.

"Mrs. Jensen, this is a five-million-dollar check from Mr. Jensen as compensation for your emotional distress."

Flora took the check between two fingers, deliberately avoiding Eloy's hovering hand.

"I have the money. Get out."

She had not cried once. Not in the water. Not in this room.

Eloy's face darkened at her blunt dismissal. He pressed his thin lips into a tight line, stared hard at her for a moment, and turned to slam the door behind him.

Silence returned to the ward. Flora looked down at the check, then noticed a black bespoke suit jacket draped over the armchair near her nightstand. It wasn't Eloy's style.

She reached out and brushed her fingertips against the wool. Faint traces of dried blood and that same cold cedarwood scent lingered in the fabric.

A nurse walked in carrying a fresh IV bag. Flora slipped the check under her pillow and pointed to the chair.

"Who brought me to the hospital?"

The nurse kept her eyes glued to the metal tray, her fingers fumbling slightly with the plastic tubing.

"It... it was Mr. Jensen's security team, ma'am." The words came out stiff, like a line she had been told to memorize.

Flora caught the tremor in the woman's voice. She pulled the sleeve of the black jacket closer, her fingers closing around a heavy silver cufflink engraved with a dark cross. It was the exclusive family crest of Esteban Kirkland.

Esteban Kirkland. It was him. A nostalgic smile tugged at the corner of Flora's lips.