The End of a Dream

On the day of my wedding, my fiance suddenly announced that he had already registered his marriage with my sister.

The system declared my mission a failure and sentenced me to be erased in a car crash. Just as despair closed in, Wayne Kinsey threw himself in front of me to save my life—and lost the use of his legs because of it.

Later, I was given another chance to choose a new target, and I accepted his proposal. But five years into our marriage, I overheard a conversation between him and a friend.

"Wayne, your crush already has a husband and children. Your legs are healed too. Aren't you going to come clean with Arden?"

"No. Arden will always be a risk. Only if she keeps feeling guilty will she stay away and let Naomi have her happiness."

As his familiar but cold voice echoed in my ears, my tears fell like beads of a broken string, and that was when I finally realized the so-called salvation Wayne had given me had been nothing but a lie through and through.

In that case, there was no reason for me to keep holding on to this sham of a marriage.

The Shattered Illusion

The moment I got off the plane, I clutched the hard-won medicine and hurried toward the VIP lounge. But just as I reached the door, I overheard something that made my blood run cold.

"I heard she went abroad herself to get you this medicine. Don't you think sending someone to stop her was going too far? Arden gives you everything she has. If she ever found out…"

There was a brief silence inside before Wayne Kinsey spoke in a casual tone. "She'll never know. And even if she does, I'll just spend the rest of my life making it up to her."

I lowered my gaze to the cut on my arm, the one I had taken while protecting the medicine. So the men who tried to rob me at the airport had been sent by Wayne himself. That was when the pain of the half-healed wound finally burned through my numbness.

The sensor doors to the lounge slid open, and Wayne rushed toward me in his wheelchair.

As he drew near, he immediately caught the metallic scent of blood on me. Panic flashed across his face, and in his haste, he nearly toppled from his chair. Without a thought for himself, he grabbed my hand and inspected it with trembling urgency. "Arden, are you okay? Where are you hurt?"

His eyes brimmed with concern, his touch as gentle as it had always been. Yet I no longer felt even the faintest trace of love in it. I quietly pulled my hand away. "It's nothing, just a scratch—"

But before I could finish my words, my vision went black. Days of exhaustion and running around had finally caught up with me, and I fainted.

When I woke, I was lying in Wayne's private lounge. My wound