Cold rain poured down from the dark sky as Ariana Blake stepped out of the Knight Mansion.
CLANG.
The massive iron gates slowly closed behind her, the sound echoing like a prison door locking shut. Just like that… her three-month marriage had officially ended.
The rain soaked through her thin dress within seconds, but Ariana didn't move. She stood there, motionless, as the city lights blurred in front of her eyes. Tears silently mixed with the rain.
"Temporary wife…" The words tasted bitter on her tongue. She looked down at the divorce papers clutched in her hand. Her signature stared back at her—a cruel reminder that she was once again alone in the world.
Vrrr... Vrrr...
Suddenly, her phone vibrated. Ariana's heart leaped. For a foolish second, she thought: Alexander? Did he realize? Her hands trembled as she pulled out the phone, but the caller ID shattered her hope. It was the City Hospital.
"Hello?"
"Miss Blake," the nurse's voice was urgent, panicked. "You need to come immediately. Your mother... her condition has worsened."
The world felt like it was collapsing. "I'm coming!"
Ariana ran toward the street, her feet splashing in the puddles. Minutes felt like hours until a taxi finally stopped. "City Hospital! As fast as you can!"
As the taxi sped through the neon-lit streets, Ariana clutched her bag. Her mother was the only reason she had sold her soul to Alexander Knight. Without his money, the first surgery would have been impossible.
But now? Alexander was gone. And she had nothing left.
The taxi screeched to a halt. Ariana rushed to the emergency floor, her hair matted to her face, dripping wet.
"How is she?" she gasped, her heart pounding against her ribs.
The nurse hesitated, looking away. "She's stable for now… but she needs another emergency surgery. Immediately."
"Then do it! Please!"
"Miss Blake... the cost is two hundred thousand dollars."
The number hit Ariana like a physical blow. Two hundred thousand. It was a cruel joke. She sat down on the cold hospital floor, the reality of her helplessness creeping into her soul. No husband. No money. No hope.
Suddenly, the heavy double doors of the VIP wing swung open.
The atmosphere in the hallway shifted instantly. Two suited bodyguards stepped in first, followed by a man whose presence made the air feel heavy. Every nurse in the hall stood up straight, their faces filled with respect.
"Good evening, Mr. Blackwood."
Ariana slowly looked up. The man was tall, his sharp eyes scanning the corridor with an icy indifference that rivaled Alexander's. But when his gaze landed on her—soaked, broken, and sitting on the floor—he paused.
For a heartbeat, their eyes met. Ariana quickly looked away, too exhausted to care about a stranger's gaze.
The man didn't move. He tilted his head slightly toward the nurse. "Who is she?"
"Just a patient's daughter, sir," the nurse whispered.
The man's eyes lingered on Ariana for a second longer. Then, he spoke—and his words felt like a thunderclap in the silent hall.
"Arrange the best doctor for the surgery. I'll cover the cost."
Ariana's head snapped up, her eyes wide with shock. "What…?"
But the man had already turned. He walked toward the elevator without a backward glance. Just as the doors were closing, his deep, calm voice drifted back to her:
"Tell her... she can repay me later."
The elevator doors shut.
Ariana remained frozen. A complete stranger had just handed her a lifeline of two hundred thousand dollars. Why? Who was this man who could command an entire hospital with a single word?
Ariana slowly clenched her fists. A strange, dangerous feeling began to brew in her chest.
She had no idea that this encounter would change everything. Because when Ariana Blake returned three years later, she wouldn't just be a survivor. She would be a storm.
And the entire city would tremble at her name.