I watched my husband torch my dress, then I walked into his gala as the hidden queen of his empire.

“Adrian?! What are you doing?!” I lunged, voice cracking, the ash‑gray sky reflecting the fury in my eyes.

He shoved me back with a smile as cold as steel.

“Don’t bother,” he said, voice flat. “It’s trash. Just like you.”

The words struck harder than the heat.

I felt the world tilt, tears slicking my cheeks, but fury rose faster.

“Why would you do this? How am I supposed to go with you?”

He tilted his chin, disdain dripping from every syllable.