The Choice

The garden air was sharp against my skin, but it was nothing compared to the cold look in Alexander's eyes when they locked with mine. For a second, he seemed caught off guard, his mouth slightly parted, like he couldn't believe I was standing there. But then, his expression twisted, turning dark with something much worse.

I had expected him to be angry. But I hadn't expected this.

He zipped up his pants quickly, stalking toward me with fury blazing in his eyes. His steps were fast, but his rage was faster. My heart raced—not from fear, but from the weight of disappointment hanging heavy between us. It was like everything I had hoped for crumbled in that moment.

Alexander raised his hand, anger blazing across his face, and I braced myself, closing my eyes and waiting for the slap to land.

But it never came.

I opened my eyes slowly and saw a firm hand gripping Alexander's wrist mid-air, stopping the blow before it could reach me. Sylus stood there, calm yet lethal, his grip unyielding.

"Have you really sunk this low, brother? Hitting a woman now?" Sylus's voice sliced through the tension like a blade. His expression was still, but his eyes were cold, filled with a quiet fury that sent chills through me. He wasn't asking for an answer; he was daring Alexander to try again.

"Brother?!" I asked, stunned as the pieces began to fall into place.

Alexander tried to yank his hand free, but Sylus didn't let go, his grip only tightening. "Stay out of this," Alexander hissed, his voice venomous. "This is between me and my wife."

His words felt like a slap all on their own. I could feel Sylus's eyes shift to me, his unspoken question heavy in the air. I couldn't meet his gaze, guilt washing over me like a wave. Alexander was right. I was his wife. Bound to him by a contract I never fully understood.

Sylus released Alexander's arm but didn't step back. His posture was relaxed, but his presence was anything but. "Your wife?" he said with a dark chuckle. "Wife or not, tonight she's with me. And I don't take kindly to anyone—family or not—laying hands on what's mine."

The words sent a shiver through me. He wasn't just saying them to defend me; he was claiming me, in front of Alexander, in front of anyone who dared listen.

Alexander's face twisted in fury. "She's my wife, you arrogant bastard. The wife to the future head of this family."

"Not yet," Sylus countered smoothly, his voice almost mocking, as if the idea of Alexander as the head was laughable. "You're not the head yet, dear brother."

"Give it nine months," Alexander shot back, stepping closer, his fists clenching at his sides, "and I will be."

Sylus shrugged casually, the picture of calm. "Nine months is a long time, brother. Plenty of things can happen. An accident, for instance." His tone was light, but his words were anything but.

Alexander's eyes narrowed, his voice low and dangerous. "What are you saying?"

Sylus smiled faintly, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Just that I know the rules, Alexander. To become the head of the Ashford family, you have to stay married to Freya for three years. And after what just happened, I doubt she'll be too eager to stick around much longer."

Sylus turned to me then, his eyes locking onto mine. They were cold and calculating, but there was something else there too—something softer, almost protective. He wasn't just speaking to Alexander; he was giving me a way out. A choice.

"What?!" I blurted out, shock rippling through me. This was the first time I was hearing about any of this.

For the first time, it felt like the fog that had clouded my mind for years finally lifted. Alexander had always treated me like I didn't matter, like I was invisible. I had known about his affairs for a long time, hoping he'd change. But now, seeing him here, with my stepsisters, the audacity to raise his hand to me... it was too much.

More than I could bear.

I had been trapped for so long. But here, right now, Sylus was holding out his hand—offering me freedom, offering me a way out of the prison I had been locked in for years.

I looked at Alexander one last time. The man I had once foolishly believed I could make fall in love with, the man who had made me feel worthless, invisible. And then I turned to Sylus, meeting his eyes with a newfound determination.

"Yes," I breathed, the word carrying with it every ounce of strength I had left. I straightened up, facing Alexander head-on. "I want a divorce."

The shock on Alexander's face was immediate. His eyes widened as if he couldn't believe what he'd just heard. "What did you just say?" he demanded, his voice low and seething.

"I said," I repeated louder this time, "I want a divorce."

His shock quickly turned to rage. "You ungrateful little—" His voice was a growl now. "Who do you think you are?"

Before I could respond, he lunged at me, but I spun on my heels and ran. I didn't stop until I reached the ballroom.

Bursting into the grand ballroom, I felt every pair of eyes snap toward me. The music stopped, the laughter died, and the weight of the silence pressed down on me. My heart was pounding, but I didn't care.

"Everyone!" I called out, my voice breaking the quiet. "I'm Alexander Ashford's wife."

Gasps echoed through the room, and whispers spread like wildfire. In an instant, cameras flashed, reporters rushing forward, their voices clashing as they shouted questions.

"Is this true?" "Why was the marriage hidden?" "Is this an Ashford family scandal?"

"For three years, I've been his wife, but no one was allowed to know. I was discarded and humiliated. And tonight, I caught him cheating—with my stepsisters, no less." My voice shook with the emotion I had kept bottled up for so long. "I'm done. I want a divorce."

The room exploded into chaos. Gasps, questions, and whispers filled the space, the crowd a sea of murmurs and disbelief. Flashbulbs blinded me as reporters snapped pictures, eager to capture every moment of the unfolding scandal.

From across the room, Isabella's voice sliced through the air, sharp and furious. "She's lying! You've always been jealous of us, Freya. You've always wanted what we have!" Her face was twisted in anger, her words dripping with venom.

Anastasia, never one to be outdone, stepped forward, her expression smug. "You think you're so clever, don't you? Alexander never loved you. He loved us. You're nothing but a placeholder."

Their words stung, but I held my ground, refusing to back down.

Alexander stormed forward, his face red with fury. "Freya, stop this madness! You're embarrassing yourself and this family. You've always been a nuisance. It's time to stop acting like a victim."

Several members of the Ashford family stepped in, their voices trying to quiet me down. Lilian, Alexander's mother, shook her head, her voice loud and scolding. "Freya, stop this nonsense this instance. You're causing a scene."

One of his cousins chimed in, "This girl is delusional. Freya, you've caused enough trouble. You've always been a thorn in our side. It's time you left quietly."

But then, the room fell silent again.

Lady Beatrice's voice rang out, calm but commanding. "Freya is Alexander's wife. Everything she said is true."