BOUND BY BETRAYAL, MARRIED TO THE COLD CEO

THE SAFE PLACE WAS A LIE

I was trapped in my own head, feeling lost and shattered.

But that didn’t mean I was going to break. Marco might have let me down, but I refused to let him ruin me too. I had to find a way out, no matter how ugly it got.

The sky above looked swollen with rain, thick clouds pressing low like they were waiting to burst. I let out a long breath, hard enough for loose strands of hair to blow across my face.

I raked my hair rough and looked around the unfamiliar street, trying to think straight. That was when I remembered it.

The necklace.

Marco bought it for me on our first date. Real diamonds, expensive enough to make anyone stare twice. Even now, tucked away in my bag, it still carried the weight of that night—his smile, the way he clasped it around my neck, how stupidly loved I had felt.

My chest tightened.

It was the last thing I wanted to part with. But memories could not feed me, and love sure as hell could not shelter me. If I wanted to survive, something had to go.

I opened my bag, pushing aside clothes until my fingers found the velvet box. Inside, the necklace gleamed like nothing had happened, like betrayal had never touched it.

I laughed bitterly. Lucky necklace.

I walked along the street, stopping people one after another. Some barely glanced at it before waving me off. Some ignored me completely. One woman frowned like I was trying to scam her. A man hissed at me to move out of the way.

By the fifth rejection, humiliation sat hot in my throat. By the seventh, my feet were starting to ache.

This was harder than I thought.

I was about to give up when I spotted a jewelry store across the road. Large glass windows, silver lettering, everything inside glittering under white lights.

“Yes... this has to work,” I murmured, already crossing.

The moment I stepped in, I froze.

The place was stunning. Necklaces, rings, bracelets, gemstones—everything sparkled so brightly it almost hurt my eyes. Even the air smelled expensive.

I suddenly became aware of my damp clothes and tangled hair.

Still, pride was a luxury I could not afford. I looked around for a receptionist or anyone who worked there, but I was too distracted by the displays. I turned too quickly and slammed into someone.

The necklace slipped from my hand and skidded under a shelf.

“Great,” I muttered, crouching fast to grab it.

“Are you blind, or do you always walk into people for fun?”

My mouth opened immediately. I was ready to snap back that it had been an accident. But something about the voice stopped me. It sounded... familiar.

I picked up the necklace, shoved it into my pocket, then slowly stood.

The words died in my throat.

She was staring at me too, eyes wide, lips parted.

“Wait... Mylar?”

My breath caught. “Susanna?”

“Oh my God!” she shrieked, grabbing my arms. “It’s really you!”

Before I could react, she pulled me into a tight hug.

I hugged her back, still stunned. Susanna—Suzy—my childhood best friend. We were inseparable in sixth grade until everything changed after my mother died. My father suddenly banned her from coming near our house. After that, she avoided me at school, then transferred away not long after.

And now she was standing right in front of me like the years between us never happened.

“I can’t believe this,” she said, pulling back to stare at my face. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

“Same here,” I said, laughing shakily.

“I wanted to talk to you so many times back then,” she rushed out. “I didn’t mean to avoid you, Mylar. Things were complicated. I missed you so much.”

The hurt from years ago flickered inside me, then faded. We were older now. Tired in different ways.

“It’s okay, Suzy,” I said softly. “I missed you too.”

She hugged me again, warmer this time.

“What are you doing here? Shopping?” she asked, linking her arm through mine. “Do you live nearby?”

I hesitated. I hated how pathetic the truth sounded. But something in her face felt safe.

“Not exactly,” I said. “It’s... messy.”

Twenty minutes later, we were seated in a small restaurant around the corner. I told her everything. Marco. The cheating. Leaving. Wandering with nowhere to go.

She listened without interrupting, only tightening her grip around my hand whenever my voice shook.

“Mylar,” she said quietly when I finished, “you’ve been carrying all this alone?”

I gave a weak shrug. “Apparently, I’m talented like that.”

She laughed, and I laughed too. The kind of laugh that comes after crying too much.

Then she squeezed my hand again. “Stay with me.”

I blinked. “What?”

“At my place. I live with my boyfriend, but he won’t mind. Stay for now, get yourself together, then we’ll figure out something better.”

Relief hit so fast it almost made me dizzy.

“Suzy... are you serious?”

“Obviously.” She rolled her eyes. “You think I’d let my best friend roam the streets looking tragic?”

I laughed for real this time. “Thank you.”

We talked a little longer, then left when it got late. My clothes were drying stiff against my skin, and all I wanted was a shower and a bed.

Her house sat in a quiet area, a sleek semi-detached gray building with warm lights glowing through the windows. Parked outside was a black Lamborghini that looked worth more than my entire existence.

“Wow,” I said. “You upgraded your life.”

She grinned. “My boyfriend is stupid rich.”

We stepped inside. The house was elegant, spotless, and strangely quiet.

“Baby, I’m home!” she called out. “And I brought someone!”

I stood near the entrance clutching my bag, suddenly nervous.

Footsteps sounded from upstairs. Slow. Heavy. Coming closer.

I turned toward the staircase just as a man appeared.

He stopped.

I stopped breathing.

Our eyes locked, and every bit of relief I had felt vanished instantly.

No.

No way.

For one wild second, I thought stress had finally made me hallucinate.

But he was real.

Standing there.

Looking just as shocked as I was.