“Sign the divorce papers now! I’m sick of looking at your bloated, milk-stained body! I need a young trophy wife worthy of my CEO status, not a pathetic housewife like you!” My husband threw divorce papers in my face while I was still bleeding from an emergency C-section. He brought his mistress secretary to mock me. He didn’t know his CEO title was just a puppet role I created, and I was the real Chairman who owned everything.

The story was easy to sell: the daughter was too delicate to command an empire, and the charming husband was the hero stepping in.

It was fiction. A strategic, lawyer-proof illusion Anna created herself.

She understood the board’s bias. She understood how fickle the market could be. So she built a front man. She refined Mark’s image, fed him lines, dressed him for cameras, and placed him under bright lights—while she directed the entire machine from the quiet privacy of their penthouse.

She crowned him as a king.

She never imagined he’d start acting like a deity.

CHAPTER 1: THE LONGEST NIGHT

St. Jude’s Hospital, Private Maternity Wing — 3:00 A.M.

The pain had stopped being sharp. Now it was a slow, brutal pressure—thick and aching—spreading from my lower belly down into my spine. The C-section hadn’t been planned. It had been a scramble. The twins—Leo and Mia—came three weeks early, throwing my body into chaos: spikes in blood pressure, flashing surgical lights, urgent voices.

Now everything was still.

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