Chapter 1

For three years, I thought my husband was just too busy with work.

Until late one night, I stumbled upon a file on his tablet titled The Mental Deterioration Plan.

High-frequency noise in the dead of night, slow-acting sedatives mixed into my aromatherapy candles. Step by step, he was driving me "insane."

He stole my father's life's work, forced me to my knees in the ruins of my childhood home, all to clear the name of the real killer.

But he had no idea. Every single pill he forced me to swallow was hidden under my tongue. Every manic episode was just an act.

By the time he thought I had drowned myself in the ocean, I was standing on a stage in Paris, wearing a hearing aid, accepting the highest honor in international design.

Everything they took from me, I will take back ten times over.

Summer's POV

I got up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom. Passing the study, I noticed Ethan's tablet screen glowing on the desk.

He hadn't locked it. The screen was open to a hidden folder he had just viewed.

I went to turn it off for him, but the moment my fingers hovered over the screen, my heart stopped.

"Summer's Mental Deterioration Plan."

Below it were the step-by-step instructions:

"2:00 AM – 4:00 AM: Activate the high-frequency acoustic device in the attic to induce auditory hallucinations."

"Monday, Wednesday, Friday: Infuse bedroom aromatherapy with slow-acting neurotoxins to disrupt memory retention."

At the very bottom, the digital signature read: Ethan.

Standing in the chill of the air conditioning, my fingertips went completely numb.

I tapped deeper into the folder and found saved chat logs between Ethan and Chloe.

Chloe: "The cathedral is almost finished, but Summer still holds the intellectual property rights. If she ever snaps out of it and sues me for plagiarism..."

Ethan's reply: "Don't worry. I've already drafted the transfer agreement. As soon as the gala ends, I'll have her sign it. After that, the cathedral belongs to you."

Ethan added: "Summer is heavily medicated. Her brain is mush. Getting her to sign will be child's play."

I stared at the screen, my knuckles turning white as I gripped the edge of the desk.

That cathedral was my father Charles's lifelong dream.

He had drawn tens of thousands of drafts for that building. I was the one who went with him to get his signature stamp made.

But three months ago, just as the cathedral was nearing completion, my father was publicly accused of plagiarism.

A man who had spent his entire life building an honorable reputation leaped from the top floor of the half-finished cathedral in utter humiliation. He died on impact.

Ethan was convinced my father had pushed his younger sister, Lily, into the ocean to drown years ago.

So Ethan married me. He showered me with affection, only to poison me and set a trap.

It was all a sick game of revenge for his sister, designed to slowly drive the entire family to our graves.

But he didn't know the truth.

Lily hadn't been pushed by my father. She had been pushed by Chloe to cover up the fact that Chloe had stolen my father's original blueprints.

Now, they didn't just want to steal my father's legacy and win the gold award with his designs.

Tomorrow, they wanted to strip me of the property rights forever.

A sudden, violent spasm hit my stomach.

I leaned against the desk, bent double, and dry-heaved violently.

The pain curled me into a ball on the floor, my fingers clawing at the gaps in the hardwood.

I pulled so hard that one of my fingernails snapped in half, blood pooling on the floor.

But I couldn't feel the physical pain.

My mind was flooded with the image of my father's broken body on the concrete.

And the image of Ethan's fake, tender smile as he held me every night, coaxing me to take those "calming pills."

He drove my father to suicide!

He locked me up like a madwoman!

The man who poisoned me day after day was the husband I had loved for three years!

The sound of the front door unlocking echoed from downstairs.

Ethan was home.

I stared at the door, my fingers trembling.

Moving as fast as I could, I plugged a flash drive into the tablet and copied every single byte of data.

Then, I wiped the screen, placed the tablet back in its exact position, and made sure there wasn't a single trace of it being moved.

I pulled two tiny, flesh-colored earplugs from my pocket.

They were high-grade noise-canceling plugs I used to use. They could block out almost all external sound.

I pushed them deep into my ear canals.

The world went instantly quiet. Only the heavy, ragged sound of my own breathing remained.

The study door opened. Ethan walked in, dressed in a sharp black suit. His expression was soft.

But when he saw me collapsed on the floor, a cold flicker passed through his eyes.

"Summer? Why are you sitting on the floor in the dark?" Ethan rushed over, kneeling down to grab my freezing hands.

The moment his skin touched mine, goosebumps erupted all over my body.

I wanted to rip his lying face to shreds. I wanted to scream at him and demand why he murdered my father.

But I forced the hatred down.

I knew that if I fought back now, I would never get the blueprints back. I wouldn't even make it out of this house alive.

I had to play the part of a completely broken, insane woman.

"Ethan..."

I let him pull me into his chest. My body shook violently as I let my tears spill onto his sleeve.

"The noise is back. There are bugs crawling in my brain, eating me from the inside. Ethan, am I really going crazy?"

I cried, burying my face in his chest, my fingers tearing at his white shirt. The blood from my broken nail left a dark red smear across his clean fabric.

Ethan gently stroked my back. His touch was soft, like he was petting a favorite toy.

"It's okay, Summer. It's just hallucinations. You've been under too much stress lately."

His voice was deep, dripping with fake concern.

But I knew the truth. At this very moment, the high-frequency transmitter in the attic was blasting at maximum volume.

Ethan was watching me lose my mind, completely cold-blooded.

"Here, take your medicine. You'll feel better after a nap."

Ethan pulled out a small white bottle, tapped out a blue capsule, and handed me a glass of warm water.

I stared at the blue capsule.

The slow-acting poison meant to rot my brain.

Without hesitation, I washed it down with the water. But as the capsule slid past my teeth, I used the tip of my tongue to wedge it firmly into the pocket of my cheek.

"Good girl."

Ethan ran his fingers through my hair, a flash of smug amusement in his eyes.

"Let's get you to bed. Tomorrow, I'm taking you to the design awards. Chloe is winning the gold, and she needs her best friend there to support her."

Supporting the woman who murdered my father. He really knew how to twist the knife.

I lowered my head, letting my long hair hide the burning rage in my eyes.

"Okay," I whispered obediently.