Chapter 1“Today’s your wedding anniversary?”“What a coincidence. Your husband’s in my bed.”Patricia Martin sat in the restaurant, staring at her phone, her face drained of color. Three minutes ago, a girl claiming to be Oliver’s secretary had added her online. Patricia accepted, thinking nothing of it—until the message came in. The words were sharp, the photo even sharper. It showed Oliver naked in bed with someone else.“Ma’am?” Pete’s voice was gentle. Midnight was coming up fast, and Mr. Newton still hadn’t shown. Pete watched her with quiet worry.“It’s fine. Throw the dishes away.” Patricia switched off her phone and pushed the joystick on her wheelchair, turning away from the table.Today marked two years since she and Oliver Newton got married. Oliver’s grandmother had gone out of her way to arrange a candlelit dinner, hoping the occasion would bring them together. But Patricia knew better—Oliver wouldn’t come home. He hadn’t even shown up for the wedding two years ago. Why would he remember the anniversary now?If she hadn’t gotten involved back then, she’d still have her legs. And Oliver wouldn’t have had to marry her out of obligation. She wouldn’t have spent the last two years feeling invisible, enduring this cold, one-sided marriage.At the elevator, Patricia paused, a thought surfacing. “Pete, make sure the envelope I gave you gets to his office first thing tomorrow morning.”“Yes, ma’am.” Pete’s eyes shone with tears as he nodded. He’d watched Patricia grow up, always believing she’d have a bright, beautiful future. He never imagined she’d end up living her life in a wheelchair.“Pete, this is freedom for me. Don’t cry, okay?”Pete quickly wiped his face and managed a shaky smile. “Alright, I won’t.”The next morning, Pete carried the envelope to Newton Enterprises. The front desk staff greeted him by name, as he’d delivered things for Patricia so many times over the years.On the top floor, Pete waited outside the CEO’s office. Around nine, the private elevator doors slid open and Oliver stepped out, his secretary right behind him.“Mr. Newton.”Oliver barely glanced at Pete, the faintest frown crossing his face. “What brings you here?”“Ms. Martin asked me to give you this.” Pete offered the envelope.Oliver didn’t take it. His gaze dropped to the package, his voice cool. “What is it?”“You’ll know when you open it.”The secretary, quick on the uptake, reached for the envelope. “I’ll take it, Pete. I’ll put it on Mr. Newton’s desk.”“Thank you,” Pete replied, stepping back.Oliver turned to go inside, but Pete called after him, “Sir, yesterday was your wedding anniversary.”Oliver’s fingers tensed at his side. “Have the secretary send her gift back home.”“No, actually...”The office door closed with a heavy thud, cutting Pete off.“Mr. Newton, the documents.” The secretary placed the envelope on Oliver’s desk.Oliver gave a noncommittal grunt, not even looking up. When he finished signing the stack of paperwork, the secretary came in and whisked everything away—Patricia’s envelope buried somewhere in the middle.“Aiden, did Mr. Newton sign off on the files?” Pete asked as he caught sight of the secretary leaving with the folders.Aiden paused. “Hold on, Pete.”Aiden had been with Oliver for five years, from his first days as general manager all the way to CEO. Around the company, everyone knew: if Oliver wasn’t around, Aiden was the go-to guy. Anything that needed doing, he handled it, no questions asked.“Is this the one?” Aiden pulled a familiar file from the stack.“That’s it. Thanks, Aiden,” Pete said.Aiden just nodded, unfazed. In the past couple of years, he’d barely seen Mr. Newton’s famously secretive wife out in public. But paperwork from the Newton estate? That never stopped coming. There was always something—some of it ordinary, some of it downright strange.Sometimes, even moving a couple of trees around the property needed Mr. Newton’s sign-off.At first, Mr. Newton would go through every document carefully. Now, whenever something came from the estate, he barely glanced at it. Maybe he figured that woman in the wheelchair couldn’t stir up much trouble anyway.Aiden watched Pete leave. He was about to sit down when, out of the corner of his eye, he caught a flash of bright red at the door. His heart skipped a beat.Thank God Pete was already gone. Otherwise…Pete made his way back to the Newton estate, holding the file. When he handed it to Patricia, he hesitated. His grip didn’t loosen.Patricia tugged at the file, but Pete wouldn’t let go. “Pete?”“Pattie, if you leave the Newton house, who’s going to look out for you?”The Martin family was a mess. Before the accident, Patricia could still hold her own. But now, she couldn’t even stand, so how was she supposed to handle those sharks on her own?Patricia’s eyes dropped, her voice soft but cutting. “Pete, what exactly has Oliver done to make you think he’d ever protect me?”She wondered what on earth Oliver had done to give Pete that idea, when Oliver acted nothing like her husband besides putting his name on their marriage document. If he’d just left her alone, she could live with that. What drove her crazy was that he ignored her while somehow making sure she noticed every detail of his life with his little mistress.Pete just sighed and let go of the file.Patricia opened it. Tucked beneath a pile of papers was a divorce agreement.She stacked the documents and shoved them to the very bottom of the study’s safe.She was about to wheel herself out when the housekeeper came in. “Mrs. Newton is here.”For the past two years, Patricia had gotten used to Kelly Newton making her life difficult. Oliver’s mother was a big name in Riverdale—famous as a singer, a real icon back in her day. Years ago, when Oliver’s father had gone to inspect the company with the late Mr. Newton, he’d spotted Kelly in a crowd, who was tall, strikingand impossible to ignore. He insisted on marrying her, no matter what anyone said.From actress to socialite, and with plenty of grit and talent, Kelly had built a name for herself in the art world.People in the arts, Patricia thought, always seemed to look down on everyone else. And Kelly had never bothered to hide her disdain for Patricia, the girl in the wheelchair.The sound of her wheels made Kelly frown the moment Patricia entered.Marian pushed Patricia into the room. Kelly squeezed her eyes shut, like she was trying to block out something unpleasant. She took a breath before speaking. “Did Oliver come home last night?”“No.”Kelly hadn’t expected that kind of answer. Any other woman would be losing her mind if her husband missed their anniversary. But Patricia just acted like she didn’t even have a husband.“Patricia, you can’t even keep your own man.“It’s true you once saved Oliver. But for years, the Newtons have supported you and your family. I’d say that’s enough. My son deserves a better future—not to be stuck with you forever.”“Stuck?” Patricia let out a laugh, like she’d just heard the punchline to a bad joke. “Mrs. Newton, let’s not forget how I ended up in this wheelchair.“If I hadn’t saved Oliver, I wouldn’t even be—”“Did we ask you to save him? Did we beg you to do that?” Kelly cut her off, her voice sharp and icy.Patricia’s heart clenched at the calm words, as if someone had slid a knife right between her ribs.The wolf never says thank you for the sheep. Kelly was all charm and gratitude when it suited her, but vicious underneath.She remembered the day she saved Oliver. Kelly, all red-eyed and trembling, had sobbed in front of her, promising she’d never forget what Patricia had done. If it weren’t for her, Oliver might’ve died. It had been a scene straight out of a drama, so touching that everyone in the room had teared up.But the second Patricia’s grandmother suggested that Oliver repay the favor by marrying her, the tears dried up. Kelly’s look had turned sharp and cold, like she wanted to stab Patricia right then and there.That memory haunted Patricia, as clear as if it’d happened yesterday.She sat in her wheelchair by the window, watching the Riverdale sky fade from blue to indigo. Spring was giving way to summer, the weather bouncing between warm and chilly. At night, the breeze cut right through her, even with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders.Marian tucked the blanket in tighter and gave her a gentle nudge. “Try not to think about it, sweetheart.”Patricia let out a long breath, her posture finally slumping. “That’s easier said than done.”Her parents had died in a car crash when she was fifteen, so she’d grown up with her grandmother. At twenty-two, she’d come back from overseas to visit when her grandmother got sick—and accidentally got mixed up in the Newton family’s kidnapping mess. She lost the use of her legs, and along with them, her freedom. Now, even her marriage wasn’t her own choice.“Come on, let’s eat,” Marian said, trying to sound cheerful. She’d practically raised Patricia, and even after getting married, still looked after her like family.Marian rolled her up to the dining table. Patricia wiped her hands with a warm towel, picked up her fork. Every movement was careful and graceful, the kind of poise you only get from growing up in a good family.She was supposed to shine. Instead, she’d crashed and burned.Marian couldn’t bear to look at her anymore, so she turned away and quietly tidied the kitchen.The front door opened.Patricia’s hand froze on her fork, but she didn’t put it down.Oliver walked in. Marian went over to take his coat. “Have you had dinner, sir?”Oliver glanced at Patricia, but she didn’t even bother to look up. His eyes grew a little colder. “No.”His shadow stretched over the table. Only then did Patricia finally look at him.“My mom came by this afternoon?” he asked.“Yeah,” she replied, not looking the least bit interested.“What did she want?”Patricia picked up her soup bowl, voice flat. “The usual. She insulted me, made some snide comments, threw in a few threats for good measure.”Oliver didn’t look surprised. He knew exactly what his mother was like. “Don’t let her get to you.”Patricia just nodded, like that was the end of it.Normally, Oliver wouldn’t say much more, but tonight he lingered in the doorway, restless. “Shane opened a new club on the west side. Yesterday was the grand opening, so everyone got together. I drank too much and ended up crashing there.”Patricia nodded again. “Makes sense.”“You’re mad about it?”She set her chopsticks down and looked him dead in the eye. “Mr. Newton, I’m not going to waste my energy getting upset about something that happens all the time.”“Patricia, you don’t have to be so passive-aggressive.” Oliver’s frown deepened, his gaze heavy and hard. “Your family forced this marriage. You knew it would end up like this.”“We’re not in love. There’s nothing between us except obligation. What kind of ending were you expecting?”“I never wanted a happy ending from you,” Patricia shot back, her words sharp with frustration.If it weren’t for him, she’d be running the Martin Group right now, not stuck in a wheelchair, not stuck here.“I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”She pressed the button on her wheelchair and rolled herself away.Chapter 2“Today’s your wedding anniversary?”“What a coincidence. Your husband’s in my bed.”Patricia Martin sat in the restaurant, staring at her phone, her face drained of color. Three minutes ago, a girl claiming to be Oliver’s secretary had added her online. Patricia accepted, thinking nothing of it—until the message came in. The words were sharp, the photo even sharper. It showed Oliver naked in bed with someone else.“Ma’am?” Pete’s voice was gentle. Midnight was coming up fast, and Mr. Newton still hadn’t shown. Pete watched her with quiet worry.“It’s fine. Throw the dishes away.” Patricia switched off her phone and pushed the joystick on her wheelchair, turning away from the table.Today marked two years since she and Oliver Newton got married. Oliver’s grandmother had gone out of her way to arrange a candlelit dinner, hoping the occasion would bring them together. But Patricia knew better—Oliver wouldn’t come home. He hadn’t even shown up for the wedding two years ago. Why would he remember the anniversary now?If she hadn’t gotten involved back then, she’d still have her legs. And Oliver wouldn’t have had to marry her out of obligation. She wouldn’t have spent the last two years feeling invisible, enduring this cold, one-sided marriage.At the elevator, Patricia paused, a thought surfacing. “Pete, make sure the envelope I gave you gets to his office first thing tomorrow morning.”“Yes, ma’am.” Pete’s eyes shone with tears as he nodded. He’d watched Patricia grow up, always believing she’d have a bright, beautiful future. He never imagined she’d end up living her life in a wheelchair.“Pete, this is freedom for me. Don’t cry, okay?”Pete quickly wiped his face and managed a shaky smile. “Alright, I won’t.”The next morning, Pete carried the envelope to Newton Enterprises. The front desk staff greeted him by name, as he’d delivered things for Patricia so many times over the years.On the top floor, Pete waited outside the CEO’s office. Around nine, the private elevator doors slid open and Oliver stepped out, his secretary right behind him.“Mr. Newton.”Oliver barely glanced at Pete, the faintest frown crossing his face. “What brings you here?”“Ms. Martin asked me to give you this.” Pete offered the envelope.Oliver didn’t take it. His gaze dropped to the package, his voice cool. “What is it?”“You’ll know when you open it.”The secretary, quick on the uptake, reached for the envelope. “I’ll take it, Pete. I’ll put it on Mr. Newton’s desk.”“Thank you,” Pete replied, stepping back.Oliver turned to go inside, but Pete called after him, “Sir, yesterday was your wedding anniversary.”Oliver’s fingers tensed at his side. “Have the secretary send her gift back home.”“No, actually...”The office door closed with a heavy thud, cutting Pete off.“Mr. Newton, the documents.” The secretary placed the envelope on Oliver’s desk.Oliver gave a noncommittal grunt, not even looking up. When he finished signing the stack of paperwork, the secretary came in and whisked everything away—Patricia’s envelope buried somewhere in the middle.“Aiden, did Mr. Newton sign off on the files?” Pete asked as he caught sight of the secretary leaving with the folders.Aiden paused. “Hold on, Pete.”Aiden had been with Oliver for five years, from his first days as general manager all the way to CEO. Around the company, everyone knew: if Oliver wasn’t around, Aiden was the go-to guy. Anything that needed doing, he handled it, no questions asked.“Is this the one?” Aiden pulled a familiar file from the stack.“That’s it. Thanks, Aiden,” Pete said.Aiden just nodded, unfazed. In the past couple of years, he’d barely seen Mr. Newton’s famously secretive wife out in public. But paperwork from the Newton estate? That never stopped coming. There was always something—some of it ordinary, some of it downright strange.Sometimes, even moving a couple of trees around the property needed Mr. Newton’s sign-off.At first, Mr. Newton would go through every document carefully. Now, whenever something came from the estate, he barely glanced at it. Maybe he figured that woman in the wheelchair couldn’t stir up much trouble anyway.Aiden watched Pete leave. He was about to sit down when, out of the corner of his eye, he caught a flash of bright red at the door. His heart skipped a beat.Thank God Pete was already gone. Otherwise…Pete made his way back to the Newton estate, holding the file. When he handed it to Patricia, he hesitated. His grip didn’t loosen.Patricia tugged at the file, but Pete wouldn’t let go. “Pete?”“Pattie, if you leave the Newton house, who’s going to look out for you?”The Martin family was a mess. Before the accident, Patricia could still hold her own. But now, she couldn’t even stand, so how was she supposed to handle those sharks on her own?Patricia’s eyes dropped, her voice soft but cutting. “Pete, what exactly has Oliver done to make you think he’d ever protect me?”She wondered what on earth Oliver had done to give Pete that idea, when Oliver acted nothing like her husband besides putting his name on their marriage document. If he’d just left her alone, she could live with that. What drove her crazy was that he ignored her while somehow making sure she noticed every detail of his life with his little mistress.Pete just sighed and let go of the file.Patricia opened it. Tucked beneath a pile of papers was a divorce agreement.She stacked the documents and shoved them to the very bottom of the study’s safe.She was about to wheel herself out when the housekeeper came in. “Mrs. Newton is here.”For the past two years, Patricia had gotten used to Kelly Newton making her life difficult. Oliver’s mother was a big name in Riverdale—famous as a singer, a real icon back in her day. Years ago, when Oliver’s father had gone to inspect the company with the late Mr. Newton, he’d spotted Kelly in a crowd, who was tall, strikingand impossible to ignore. He insisted on marrying her, no matter what anyone said.From actress to socialite, and with plenty of grit and talent, Kelly had built a name for herself in the art world.People in the arts, Patricia thought, always seemed to look down on everyone else. And Kelly had never bothered to hide her disdain for Patricia, the girl in the wheelchair.The sound of her wheels made Kelly frown the moment Patricia entered.Marian pushed Patricia into the room. Kelly squeezed her eyes shut, like she was trying to block out something unpleasant. She took a breath before speaking. “Did Oliver come home last night?”“No.”Kelly hadn’t expected that kind of answer. Any other woman would be losing her mind if her husband missed their anniversary. But Patricia just acted like she didn’t even have a husband.“Patricia, you can’t even keep your own man.“It’s true you once saved Oliver. But for years, the Newtons have supported you and your family. I’d say that’s enough. My son deserves a better future—not to be stuck with you forever.”“Stuck?” Patricia let out a laugh, like she’d just heard the punchline to a bad joke. “Mrs. Newton, let’s not forget how I ended up in this wheelchair.“If I hadn’t saved Oliver, I wouldn’t even be—”“Did we ask you to save him? Did we beg you to do that?” Kelly cut her off, her voice sharp and icy.Patricia’s heart clenched at the calm words, as if someone had slid a knife right between her ribs.The wolf never says thank you for the sheep. Kelly was all charm and gratitude when it suited her, but vicious underneath.She remembered the day she saved Oliver. Kelly, all red-eyed and trembling, had sobbed in front of her, promising she’d never forget what Patricia had done. If it weren’t for her, Oliver might’ve died. It had been a scene straight out of a drama, so touching that everyone in the room had teared up.But the second Patricia’s grandmother suggested that Oliver repay the favor by marrying her, the tears dried up. Kelly’s look had turned sharp and cold, like she wanted to stab Patricia right then and there.That memory haunted Patricia, as clear as if it’d happened yesterday.She sat in her wheelchair by the window, watching the Riverdale sky fade from blue to indigo. Spring was giving way to summer, the weather bouncing between warm and chilly. At night, the breeze cut right through her, even with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders.Marian tucked the blanket in tighter and gave her a gentle nudge. “Try not to think about it, sweetheart.”Patricia let out a long breath, her posture finally slumping. “That’s easier said than done.”Her parents had died in a car crash when she was fifteen, so she’d grown up with her grandmother. At twenty-two, she’d come back from overseas to visit when her grandmother got sick—and accidentally got mixed up in the Newton family’s kidnapping mess. She lost the use of her legs, and along with them, her freedom. Now, even her marriage wasn’t her own choice.“Come on, let’s eat,” Marian said, trying to sound cheerful. She’d practically raised Patricia, and even after getting married, still looked after her like family.Marian rolled her up to the dining table. Patricia wiped her hands with a warm towel, picked up her fork. Every movement was careful and graceful, the kind of poise you only get from growing up in a good family.She was supposed to shine. Instead, she’d crashed and burned.Marian couldn’t bear to look at her anymore, so she turned away and quietly tidied the kitchen.The front door opened.Patricia’s hand froze on her fork, but she didn’t put it down.Oliver walked in. Marian went over to take his coat. “Have you had dinner, sir?”Oliver glanced at Patricia, but she didn’t even bother to look up. His eyes grew a little colder. “No.”His shadow stretched over the table. Only then did Patricia finally look at him.“My mom came by this afternoon?” he asked.“Yeah,” she replied, not looking the least bit interested.“What did she want?”Patricia picked up her soup bowl, voice flat. “The usual. She insulted me, made some snide comments, threw in a few threats for good measure.”Oliver didn’t look surprised. He knew exactly what his mother was like. “Don’t let her get to you.”Patricia just nodded, like that was the end of it.Normally, Oliver wouldn’t say much more, but tonight he lingered in the doorway, restless. “Shane opened a new club on the west side. Yesterday was the grand opening, so everyone got together. I drank too much and ended up crashing there.”Patricia nodded again. “Makes sense.”“You’re mad about it?”She set her chopsticks down and looked him dead in the eye. “Mr. Newton, I’m not going to waste my energy getting upset about something that happens all the time.”“Patricia, you don’t have to be so passive-aggressive.” Oliver’s frown deepened, his gaze heavy and hard. “Your family forced this marriage. You knew it would end up like this.”“We’re not in love. There’s nothing between us except obligation. What kind of ending were you expecting?”“I never wanted a happy ending from you,” Patricia shot back, her words sharp with frustration.If it weren’t for him, she’d be running the Martin Group right now, not stuck in a wheelchair, not stuck here.“I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”She pressed the button on her wheelchair and rolled herself away.Chapter 3“Today’s your wedding anniversary?”“What a coincidence. Your husband’s in my bed.”Patricia Martin sat in the restaurant, staring at her phone, her face drained of color. Three minutes ago, a girl claiming to be Oliver’s secretary had added her online. Patricia accepted, thinking nothing of it—until the message came in. The words were sharp, the photo even sharper. It showed Oliver naked in bed with someone else.“Ma’am?” Pete’s voice was gentle. Midnight was coming up fast, and Mr. Newton still hadn’t shown. Pete watched her with quiet worry.“It’s fine. Throw the dishes away.” Patricia switched off her phone and pushed the joystick on her wheelchair, turning away from the table.Today marked two years since she and Oliver Newton got married. Oliver’s grandmother had gone out of her way to arrange a candlelit dinner, hoping the occasion would bring them together. But Patricia knew better—Oliver wouldn’t come home. He hadn’t even shown up for the wedding two years ago. Why would he remember the anniversary now?If she hadn’t gotten involved back then, she’d still have her legs. And Oliver wouldn’t have had to marry her out of obligation. She wouldn’t have spent the last two years feeling invisible, enduring this cold, one-sided marriage.At the elevator, Patricia paused, a thought surfacing. “Pete, make sure the envelope I gave you gets to his office first thing tomorrow morning.”“Yes, ma’am.” Pete’s eyes shone with tears as he nodded. He’d watched Patricia grow up, always believing she’d have a bright, beautiful future. He never imagined she’d end up living her life in a wheelchair.“Pete, this is freedom for me. Don’t cry, okay?”Pete quickly wiped his face and managed a shaky smile. “Alright, I won’t.”The next morning, Pete carried the envelope to Newton Enterprises. The front desk staff greeted him by name, as he’d delivered things for Patricia so many times over the years.On the top floor, Pete waited outside the CEO’s office. Around nine, the private elevator doors slid open and Oliver stepped out, his secretary right behind him.“Mr. Newton.”Oliver barely glanced at Pete, the faintest frown crossing his face. “What brings you here?”“Ms. Martin asked me to give you this.” Pete offered the envelope.Oliver didn’t take it. His gaze dropped to the package, his voice cool. “What is it?”“You’ll know when you open it.”The secretary, quick on the uptake, reached for the envelope. “I’ll take it, Pete. I’ll put it on Mr. Newton’s desk.”“Thank you,” Pete replied, stepping back.Oliver turned to go inside, but Pete called after him, “Sir, yesterday was your wedding anniversary.”Oliver’s fingers tensed at his side. “Have the secretary send her gift back home.”“No, actually...”The office door closed with a heavy thud, cutting Pete off.“Mr. Newton, the documents.” The secretary placed the envelope on Oliver’s desk.Oliver gave a noncommittal grunt, not even looking up. When he finished signing the stack of paperwork, the secretary came in and whisked everything away—Patricia’s envelope buried somewhere in the middle.“Aiden, did Mr. Newton sign off on the files?” Pete asked as he caught sight of the secretary leaving with the folders.Aiden paused. “Hold on, Pete.”Aiden had been with Oliver for five years, from his first days as general manager all the way to CEO. Around the company, everyone knew: if Oliver wasn’t around, Aiden was the go-to guy. Anything that needed doing, he handled it, no questions asked.“Is this the one?” Aiden pulled a familiar file from the stack.“That’s it. Thanks, Aiden,” Pete said.Aiden just nodded, unfazed. In the past couple of years, he’d barely seen Mr. Newton’s famously secretive wife out in public. But paperwork from the Newton estate? That never stopped coming. There was always something—some of it ordinary, some of it downright strange.Sometimes, even moving a couple of trees around the property needed Mr. Newton’s sign-off.At first, Mr. Newton would go through every document carefully. Now, whenever something came from the estate, he barely glanced at it. Maybe he figured that woman in the wheelchair couldn’t stir up much trouble anyway.Aiden watched Pete leave. He was about to sit down when, out of the corner of his eye, he caught a flash of bright red at the door. His heart skipped a beat.Thank God Pete was already gone. Otherwise…Pete made his way back to the Newton estate, holding the file. When he handed it to Patricia, he hesitated. His grip didn’t loosen.Patricia tugged at the file, but Pete wouldn’t let go. “Pete?”“Pattie, if you leave the Newton house, who’s going to look out for you?”The Martin family was a mess. Before the accident, Patricia could still hold her own. But now, she couldn’t even stand, so how was she supposed to handle those sharks on her own?Patricia’s eyes dropped, her voice soft but cutting. “Pete, what exactly has Oliver done to make you think he’d ever protect me?”She wondered what on earth Oliver had done to give Pete that idea, when Oliver acted nothing like her husband besides putting his name on their marriage document. If he’d just left her alone, she could live with that. What drove her crazy was that he ignored her while somehow making sure she noticed every detail of his life with his little mistress.Pete just sighed and let go of the file.Patricia opened it. Tucked beneath a pile of papers was a divorce agreement.She stacked the documents and shoved them to the very bottom of the study’s safe.She was about to wheel herself out when the housekeeper came in. “Mrs. Newton is here.”For the past two years, Patricia had gotten used to Kelly Newton making her life difficult. Oliver’s mother was a big name in Riverdale—famous as a singer, a real icon back in her day. Years ago, when Oliver’s father had gone to inspect the company with the late Mr. Newton, he’d spotted Kelly in a crowd, who was tall, strikingand impossible to ignore. He insisted on marrying her, no matter what anyone said.From actress to socialite, and with plenty of grit and talent, Kelly had built a name for herself in the art world.People in the arts, Patricia thought, always seemed to look down on everyone else. And Kelly had never bothered to hide her disdain for Patricia, the girl in the wheelchair.The sound of her wheels made Kelly frown the moment Patricia entered.Marian pushed Patricia into the room. Kelly squeezed her eyes shut, like she was trying to block out something unpleasant. She took a breath before speaking. “Did Oliver come home last night?”“No.”Kelly hadn’t expected that kind of answer. Any other woman would be losing her mind if her husband missed their anniversary. But Patricia just acted like she didn’t even have a husband.“Patricia, you can’t even keep your own man.“It’s true you once saved Oliver. But for years, the Newtons have supported you and your family. I’d say that’s enough. My son deserves a better future—not to be stuck with you forever.”“Stuck?” Patricia let out a laugh, like she’d just heard the punchline to a bad joke. “Mrs. Newton, let’s not forget how I ended up in this wheelchair.“If I hadn’t saved Oliver, I wouldn’t even be—”“Did we ask you to save him? Did we beg you to do that?” Kelly cut her off, her voice sharp and icy.Patricia’s heart clenched at the calm words, as if someone had slid a knife right between her ribs.The wolf never says thank you for the sheep. Kelly was all charm and gratitude when it suited her, but vicious underneath.She remembered the day she saved Oliver. Kelly, all red-eyed and trembling, had sobbed in front of her, promising she’d never forget what Patricia had done. If it weren’t for her, Oliver might’ve died. It had been a scene straight out of a drama, so touching that everyone in the room had teared up.But the second Patricia’s grandmother suggested that Oliver repay the favor by marrying her, the tears dried up. Kelly’s look had turned sharp and cold, like she wanted to stab Patricia right then and there.That memory haunted Patricia, as clear as if it’d happened yesterday.She sat in her wheelchair by the window, watching the Riverdale sky fade from blue to indigo. Spring was giving way to summer, the weather bouncing between warm and chilly. At night, the breeze cut right through her, even with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders.Marian tucked the blanket in tighter and gave her a gentle nudge. “Try not to think about it, sweetheart.”Patricia let out a long breath, her posture finally slumping. “That’s easier said than done.”Her parents had died in a car crash when she was fifteen, so she’d grown up with her grandmother. At twenty-two, she’d come back from overseas to visit when her grandmother got sick—and accidentally got mixed up in the Newton family’s kidnapping mess. She lost the use of her legs, and along with them, her freedom. Now, even her marriage wasn’t her own choice.“Come on, let’s eat,” Marian said, trying to sound cheerful. She’d practically raised Patricia, and even after getting married, still looked after her like family.Marian rolled her up to the dining table. Patricia wiped her hands with a warm towel, picked up her fork. Every movement was careful and graceful, the kind of poise you only get from growing up in a good family.She was supposed to shine. Instead, she’d crashed and burned.Marian couldn’t bear to look at her anymore, so she turned away and quietly tidied the kitchen.The front door opened.Patricia’s hand froze on her fork, but she didn’t put it down.Oliver walked in. Marian went over to take his coat. “Have you had dinner, sir?”Oliver glanced at Patricia, but she didn’t even bother to look up. His eyes grew a little colder. “No.”His shadow stretched over the table. Only then did Patricia finally look at him.“My mom came by this afternoon?” he asked.“Yeah,” she replied, not looking the least bit interested.“What did she want?”Patricia picked up her soup bowl, voice flat. “The usual. She insulted me, made some snide comments, threw in a few threats for good measure.”Oliver didn’t look surprised. He knew exactly what his mother was like. “Don’t let her get to you.”Patricia just nodded, like that was the end of it.Normally, Oliver wouldn’t say much more, but tonight he lingered in the doorway, restless. “Shane opened a new club on the west side. Yesterday was the grand opening, so everyone got together. I drank too much and ended up crashing there.”Patricia nodded again. “Makes sense.”“You’re mad about it?”She set her chopsticks down and looked him dead in the eye. “Mr. Newton, I’m not going to waste my energy getting upset about something that happens all the time.”“Patricia, you don’t have to be so passive-aggressive.” Oliver’s frown deepened, his gaze heavy and hard. “Your family forced this marriage. You knew it would end up like this.”“We’re not in love. There’s nothing between us except obligation. What kind of ending were you expecting?”“I never wanted a happy ending from you,” Patricia shot back, her words sharp with frustration.If it weren’t for him, she’d be running the Martin Group right now, not stuck in a wheelchair, not stuck here.“I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”She pressed the button on her wheelchair and rolled herself away.