Throw Me to the Wolves for Her

At our wedding, my husband, Justin Garner, pushes me—three months pregnant—toward our enemies as an apology in order to save his foster sister, Clara Garner.

"This is my sincerity. You can do whatever you want with her."

I don't cry or make a scene. I quietly follow the enemies away.

That's because in my previous life, I had traded all my wealth for freedom and returned to Justin's side. In the end, I was forced to drink drugs and lost my unborn baby, suffering for three days and nights.

"Justin, those 'enemies' were people you hired to act, and Maxine didn't even lose her innocence. Why did you have to get rid of the baby?" Clara asks.

Justin coldly laughs. "If you're acting, you have to make it look real."

I died full of hatred. When I wake up again, I choose to let those people take me away.

Three years later, when I arrive at a banquet on the arms of my new lover, Justin goes mad, grabbing me and demanding, "Maxine Preston, where is our child?"

It had been three years since I last saw Justin Garner, yet the man standing before me felt like a stranger.

"Maxine, do you know that Justin and I have been searching for you all these years? I've been carrying so much guilt," Justin's foster sister, Clara Garner, said.

I didn't even look at her. Instead, I used every ounce of strength I had to wrench myself free from Justin's grip.

Seeing my coldness, Justin's expression darkened. His tone sharpened, laced with anger. "I'm asking you. Where is our child?"

I let out a bitter, mocking laugh. "Our child? Don't you already know what happened?"

Three years ago, what should have been the happiest day of my life—our island wedding—had turned into my worst nightmare.

A man who could throw his pregnant wife to his enemies just to protect his precious sister—how could he even have the face to ask me that?

If I hadn't been reborn, I wouldn't even have had the chance to survive.

Justin's eyes flickered, avoiding mine. He reached out as if to grab my hand, but quickly pulled back.

Clara's eyes brimmed with tears as she looked at me, her voice soft but dripping with poison.

"Maxine, you were taken by those men for three years. You must have suffered so much. Your body is probably… well… but Justin and I don't care. We both understand what happens to a woman in such a place. Even if you lost your purity, it wasn't your fault."

Her tone was full of pity, but every word was laced with malice.

Justin's face went black, his dark eyes trembling slightly.

By now, the banquet guests had gathered around. After Clara's words, their gazes toward me shifted, cold and judgmental.

"So she's slept with other men? And she dares show her face here?"

"She was probably passed around so much that she's ruined. Though looking at that body… If it were