The icy wind howled between them, carrying the weight of unspoken truths. Alexander's voice sliced through the bitter air, crisp and detached.

"Whatever happened between Victoria and me...it's over now. Victoria doesn't have much time left, so rehashing old wounds is pointless. Amy, don't you want Liam to have a complete family?"

He didn’t deny it. That silence was confirmation enough.

Amy never thought she’d become Victoria’s replacement in such a cruel twist of fate.

The irony was almost laughable. She remembered all those sleepless nights, lying alone in the dark, aching from Alexander’s indifference. She had clung to the memories—how he once shielded her, cherished her, made her feel like she mattered.

She had convinced herself he loved her. Now, those memories tasted like poison.

Amy tilted her chin up, her voice steady. "So the only reason you haven’t divorced me is because Victoria won’t live long enough to be the perfect mother to Liam and the perfect wife to you, is that it?"

If Victoria had decades ahead of her, Amy would’ve been discarded long ago.

She was nothing more than a placeholder.

Alexander’s patience snapped. "Amy, stop being irrational."

"If I’m irrational, then just sign the divorce papers."

A month ago, the thought of him and Victoria had kept her awake at night. She had endured their sham of a "wedding," watching them play house while she swallowed her pain.

She told herself she couldn’t leave—not Alexander, who had given her stability, not Liam, the child she had nearly died bringing into this world.

She had lied to herself: So what if he doesn’t love me? At least Liam will have everything. For him, she had endured every humiliation.

In her weakest moments, she had even counted the days, wishing for Victoria’s end to come faster.

She had believed that once Victoria was gone, things would return to normal.

Now, all she felt was numbness.

A cold smile curved Amy’s lips, defiance sharpening her delicate features.

"You all think I’ve been tormenting Victoria, don’t you? If you don’t divorce me, she might not even last those six months."

Alexander stilled, caught off guard.

This wasn’t the woman he knew.

After five years of marriage and a child, he realized he had never truly seen her.

To him, she had been the perfect wife—gentle, beautiful, obedient. Bland as lukewarm water. The only flaw? Her bloodline. Not that it mattered; his power was absolute.

Even when Victoria returned, Amy’s quiet acceptance had pleased him.

But lately, she had become someone unrecognizable.

For the first time, he wondered if he had ever known her at all.

His voice was steel. "I won’t agree to a divorce. Drop the idea."

Amy shrugged. "Victoria has six months left, doesn’t she? If I keep 'bullying' her, who knows? Maybe she’ll only have three."

Alexander’s gaze frosted over.

"Amy, I’ve tolerated your recent behavior out of guilt. Don’t test me."