Episode 5

Two years earlier.

The ceremony passed without incident — at least to the eyes of the few select guests who filled the Valente mansion's private chapel. Selene walked toward the altar the way one walks toward a guillotine. Though she looked beautiful, wrapped in clouds of lace and silk, her eyes held not a single trace of the happiness a bride was supposed to feel. They were two blue pools, fixed and glassy, staring straight ahead without really seeing anything.

Beside her, Maximiliano watched her sidelong with a mixture of aesthetic fascination and deep contempt. He no longer saw the sweet young woman from the gala; he saw Roberto Arismendi's daughter — a woman who, by his twisted logic, had agreed to be sold without batting an eye. Maximiliano was convinced that his "investment" was not as innocent as she appeared. He believed Selene was an accomplished actress simply waiting for the right moment to sink her teeth into his fortune, and he had sworn to himself that he would show her no mercy whatsoever.

The moment for the so-called "honeymoon" came all too quickly. Selene felt panic closing around her throat — she would now be alone with the man who had bought her, the man she still loved, to her own misfortune, in spite of everything.

They left the reception under a shower of white petals that felt like stones against Selene's skin. As they climbed into the luxury car that would take them to the private airstrip, the silence between them became a granite wall. Maximiliano didn't speak a word to her until they were aboard his private jet, heading for a private island in the Caribbean.

"You can drop the martyred virgin costume, Selene," Maximiliano said suddenly, wrenching his tie loose with a violent gesture. "We're alone now. You have the ring and the name. There's no need to keep pretending your soul is wounded."

Selene looked at him, clutching the bridal bouquet against her chest until the stems cracked.

"I'm not pretending, Maximiliano. This day really should have been the most beautiful of my life — if only what happened hadn't—"

Maximiliano tensed for a microsecond, then recovered his mask of ice immediately. He let out a dry laugh that raised the hair on Selene's arms.

"You're a very good actress. If I didn't know who you really are, I might have fallen for the act."

"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm not pretending. I really—"

"The truth? The truth is that your father was willing to throw you to the wolves to save his company from bankruptcy. I was just the one who paid the highest price. Don't try to blame anyone for your own ambition. You agreed to marry me because you knew you'd never go without a diamond around your neck."

"I married you because I love you!" Selene cried, tears finally overflowing.

He stood up and moved toward her, crowding her until she was trapped against the leather seat. He took her chin in his hand with a force that edged on pain, forcing her to look at him.

"Don't ever use the word 'love' with me again. You make me sick. You're an Arismendi — deception runs in your veins. Tonight, and every night that follows, you'll be nothing more than another asset on my balance sheet. You'll fulfill your duties as a wife, and in return I'll keep your pathetic family off the streets. That is the deal."

That first night on the island was the beginning of the end. Maximiliano was not a husband — he was a jailer. There was no romance, only a cold act of possession that left Selene feeling empty, as though her body no longer belonged to her. He made sure to remind her, with every word and every contemptuous gesture, that she was expensive merchandise — but merchandise all the same.

Present.

Selene shook her head to drive away the ghosts of that bitter honeymoon. She was in her bedroom in the mansion, two years after that fateful day. Maximiliano had just left — almost certainly to meet Alessandra — leaving Selene behind with the excuse of an "emergency meeting."

The humiliation of that wedding night had been the engine that kept her alive through two winters of loneliness. Selene got to her feet and picked up the backpack she had hidden under the bed. She was no longer the frightened girl from the island.

She checked her phone. There was a message from an unknown number: Transport ready at the service exit. Ten minutes.

This was her chance. Maximiliano was too busy despising her and enjoying his mistress to imagine that his "investment" was about to disappear from his life forever. Selene left her wedding ring on the pillow — right where he would see it when he got home. Next to the ring she left no love letter, not even one of hatred. Only a small note with three words that would burn Maximiliano Valente's pride to the ground:

"Contract terminated. Selene."

She walked toward the service door with her heart hammering against her ribs. She knew that if Maximiliano caught her, the punishment would be terrible — but the fear of staying in that mansion was far greater than the fear of his fury.

As she crossed the threshold into the darkness of the night, Selene Arismendi took her first real breath in three years. The escape had begun.

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