Chapter 1: The Heiress and the Orphan

I’m an orphan—with nothing. Nothing at all. The word echoes in my head, a truth I can’t shake.

Sometimes, that truth settles on my chest, heavy as midnight. It’s always there. It’s heavy. Always. Loneliness becomes a habit, a silence you carry everywhere—even into mansions that echo with laughter.

But then there’s Madeline Carter, the only daughter of a powerful real estate mogul.

She’s the kind of woman you see in magazines. The kind that makes you pause in the grocery store checkout line. Her dad’s name is plastered on half the billboards in the city, and when she walks into a room, everyone turns to look. The Carter estate even has its own zip code. She grew up knowing her life would always be bigger, brighter, more.

Beautiful. Wealthy.

She had that effortless charm that made you feel like you were the only person in the world when she smiled at you. Money just... clung to her. You could hear it in her laugh, see it in the way she moved. People like me didn’t belong in her world. But she made me feel like I did—at least for a little while.

She fell for me at first sight and chased after me for six months. She was relentless. And passionate.

It was wild. She’d show up at my place—usually with takeout and a bottle of wine. Sometimes she’d wait outside my lab at midnight, just to walk me home. She’d send playlists, postcards from business trips, little notes tucked into my books. It was like being swept up in a summer storm—unexpected, impossible to ignore.

Her love was overwhelming. I couldn’t resist.

There were days when I tried to keep my distance. I kept telling myself it was for her own good. Like that would make it easier. But Madeline never took no for an answer. She’d laugh, call me stubborn, and then do something so sweet or outrageous that my resolve would crumble. I started to crave her presence, her laughter, the way she saw the world.

In the end, I gave in and agreed to become her live-in husband in her family’s massive place. That house was something else.

Moving into the Carter mansion felt like stepping onto a movie set—marble floors, crystal chandeliers. It was unreal. A kitchen bigger than my entire childhood home. Her parents were skeptical, the staff polite but distant. Still, Madeline held my hand like she’d never let go. For a while, I thought that was enough.

But I never expected that less than a year after our wedding... her eyes would start lingering on other men.

It started small. Her gaze drifting at parties. Laughter that seemed a little too bright with someone else. I told myself I was imagining it, that old insecurities were just playing tricks on me. But the feeling in my gut wouldn’t go away.

First, a male model at a cocktail party. Then an eager college athlete. Later—even someone who looked just like me.

Each time, she had an explanation. “Just a friend,” “just a dance,” “just harmless fun.” But I saw the way she looked at them—the same way she used to look at me. And that hurt more than I wanted to admit. I felt myself shrinking inside.

When all that passion bloomed for others, that’s when it hit me.

It was like a light flickering out. I kept replaying every moment, wondering where I went wrong. But deep down, I knew. I was just a chapter. Not the ending.

I was never the one she truly cherished.

That realization didn’t come with fireworks or rage. Just a cold, quiet acceptance. I was a placeholder, someone to fill the silence until something better came along.

I drafted the divorce papers and left with nothing. I had to. I decided to let go and give the heiress what she wanted.

I packed my things in silence, leaving the monogrammed towels, the expensive colognes, the gifts from her parents. All I took was a box of books and a worn photograph of us at the lake. The rest, I left behind. I didn’t want her money. I just wanted my dignity. That was all I had left.

But I didn’t expect Madeline to block my car in the pouring rain. She stood there, soaked to the bone. “Ethan, don’t go—”

The rain was coming down in sheets, thunder rumbling overhead. My old sedan was packed and ready, wipers struggling against the storm. Suddenly, Madeline appeared in the driveway, drenched and wild-eyed, standing right in front of my headlights. Her hair was plastered to her face. Mascara streaked down her cheeks.

“Please, I really love you!”

She was shouting over the roar of the rain, her voice raw and desperate. My heart twisted. For a moment, she looked nothing like the composed heiress I’d married. Just a woman. Terrified of being left alone.

The proud heiress knelt down, eyes red, begging me to stay.

She dropped to her knees in the mud, her white dress ruined, tears mixing with the rain. Her pride was gone. She didn’t care who was watching—not the neighbors, not the staff huddled by the window. She was just Maddie, pleading for a second chance.

But I shook my head. “Maddie, never again.” The words felt like stones in my mouth.

My voice barely made it past the lump in my throat. I wanted to run to her. To scoop her up and promise we could start over. But something inside me had finally broken. I couldn’t do it—not anymore.

The memory faded. I was back in the lab.

The memory faded, replaced by the sterile hum of the lab. One of my researchers—Maya, always sharp and hopeful—rushed in, clutching a stack of printouts. Her eyes were shining, cheeks flushed with excitement. I could feel the tension in the room, the anticipation that had built for months.

She was practically bouncing as she reported the results.

I could see the pride in her face. The kind of pride that only comes from months of sleepless nights. The whole team had poured themselves into this project, and now, finally, we were on the verge of something incredible.

I lowered my head to carefully review the experimental data. I couldn’t help but smile.

The numbers glowed on the screen, almost too good to be true. For a moment, all the pain and chaos faded away, replaced by the quiet thrill of discovery. I let myself smile—just a little. Something I hadn’t done in a long time.