Nathan Mercer was curled up in the passenger seat, eyes locked on the elevator entrance.

More than an hour had passed.

Inside, his thoughts were a total mess, all tangled up, like someone had stuffed a whole bale of straw into his chest.

He had wanted to surprise his wife and daughter, so he kept quiet about getting out three months early.

But the one who came to pick him up—his younger brother, Joel Mercer—had dropped a bomb on him the second they met.

“Miranda Holloway might’ve cheated on you.”

Then Joel had driven him straight to the underground garage of the Marriott Hotel and told him to wait.

Nathan was still dazed.

This wasn’t just bad news. It was like getting struck by lightning out of a clear blue sky.

If this was true...

What was he supposed to do?

His wife was a sales supervisor at her company. Meeting clients, talking business, that was normal. He knew that.

But booking a room in a hotel too?

Was that part of “business” now?

What, discuss contracts while rolling around in bed?

The second that thought flashed through his mind—some other man pressing down on his wife, touching her, taking what should never have been his—Nathan felt his blood surge straight to his head.

His jaw clenched hard.

It felt like a knife was sawing into his heart, over and over, without mercy.

The pain was brutal.

He was thirty-two this year.

He had known Miranda for seven years.

Married for six.

Their daughter was five.

They had always looked like the kind of couple people envied—close, affectionate, steady.

A warm home. A peaceful family.

A lot of their relatives and friends were low-key jealous.

Nathan Mercer’s wife was Miranda Holloway, his college alumna, the former campus beauty from their department.

And honestly?

She really was gorgeous.

Back in school, the two of them had basically zero overlap. No sparks, no story, nothing.

They only got to know each other by chance after they started working.

To marry Miranda Holloway, Nathan had practically fought a whole campaign. He chased her hard for two full years before he finally brought her home as his wife.

Everyone said the same thing: this guy must’ve stacked up blessings over several lifetimes to marry a woman that stunning.

As for anything Miranda wanted—

he said yes. No questions asked.

Designer bag? Buy it.

Luxury heels? Buy them.

High-end cosmetics? Buy them too.

If he could, Nathan would’ve gladly knelt at her feet every day and brushed the dust off her shoes himself. That was how far gone he was.

He was a company executive, but his monthly salary was under fifty thousand.

Miranda, on the other hand, could spend over thirty thousand a month without even trying.

A random set of skincare or makeup could cost several thousand, easy.

She only had one job in that marriage—

to stay beautiful.

In most families, a husband would’ve blown up long ago.

But Nathan never complained. Not once.

He was willing. Totally willing.

Because every time he took Miranda out with him and caught the looks from other men—the envy, the jealousy, that sour mix of admiration and frustration—something inside him swelled with pride.

It was hard to even put into words. He just felt good. Ridiculously good.

What does a man grind so hard for, at the end of the day?

Money. A woman. And his pride.

Nathan Mercer had money.

His wife, Miranda Holloway, was beautiful.

And with those two in place, his pride naturally stood tall.

So yeah.

It felt worth it.

After their daughter was born, life got way more expensive.

Milk powder, clothes, doctor visits, preschool down the line—every little thing burned cash.

Even so, Nathan never complained.

Not once.

He was willing.

More than willing.

As long as his wife and daughter lived well, he could swallow any hardship and keep moving.

But good days never seem to last.

Something huge blew up at his company.

A real disaster.

From the boss all the way down to the top executives, they were all dragged in under charges of illegal operations.

No one got out clean.

Nathan was one of them too.

A year and a half.

That was the sentence the court gave him.

To get out earlier, to see Miranda and his daughter sooner, Nathan pushed himself hard in prison.

He didn’t waste a single chance.

He helped prison guards come up with ideas when they ran into problems.

He gave lessons to inmates too, teaching them practical skills, helping them learn something useful for when they got out.

He did everything he could.

And in the end, it worked.

His sentence was cut by three months.

Losing his job?

That didn’t scare him.

As long as the foundation was still there, there was always a chance to start over.

If a man still had ability, making a comeback was only a matter of time.

That was what Nathan believed.

Who would’ve thought—

The second he got out, life smashed him in the face with a brutal truth.

The Marriott Hotel.

Five stars.

The beds there were probably soft as hell.

Comfortable too, right?

Miranda Holloway’s beautiful body kept flashing through his mind, over and over, like a cursed loop he couldn’t shut off.

If she had really slept with another man—

Nathan didn’t know what he might do.

“Bro, they’re out,” his younger brother whispered.

Nathan Mercer’s whole body jolted. His eyes snapped wide open.

And there they were.

Miranda Holloway walked out of the elevator lobby with a man who looked to be in his early thirties.

No, not just walked.

She was practically melting into the guy’s arms, her whole body pressed close to him like she had no bones left.

She was wearing a fitted business suit. Her legs were long and straight, her waist slim enough to grab with one hand, and her chest rose full beneath the neat fabric…

Every part of her, every curve, was something that had once driven Nathan crazy night after night.

Miranda was the same age as him, but instead of fading with time, she had only grown more and more womanly. More polished. More alluring.

That delicate oval face.

Those watery eyes, soft and misty.

That faint flush spreading across her cheeks.

Nathan went cold from head to toe.

He knew that look too well. Way too well.

In the whole year and more that he’d been locked up, Miranda had only come to see him twice. And even then, her attitude had been lukewarm, distant, like she was just there to get it over with.

Back then, he’d kept making excuses for her.

Maybe life was hard.

Maybe she was under too much pressure.

Maybe she was exhausted, crushed by work and taking care of the kid.

What a joke.

Turns out it wasn’t pressure at all.

She had found someone new on the outside.

Nathan’s fingers started trembling. His jaw clenched so hard it hurt. Rage surged through him so fast it made his vision blur.

He wanted, desperately, for this to be a mistake.

If only that woman wasn’t Miranda.

If only he’d seen wrong.

If only this was just some messed-up illusion.

Because Miranda Holloway had been the thing he held on to.

She was the reason he endured those endless days.

The reason he counted time like a prisoner scratching marks into a wall.

The reason he told himself to survive.

And right then, the man suddenly stopped.

He lowered his head, leaned close to Miranda’s ear, and bit at it lightly as he murmured something Nathan couldn’t hear.

Miranda instantly changed.

Her face turned coy and sweet, full of that soft, playful charm she used to show in private. She gave the man two light punches on the chest, acting annoyed, but there was zero real anger in it.

More like flirting.

Like teasing.

Like she was enjoying every second of it.

Then she lifted one leg, wrapped herself around the man, and kissed him like there was nobody else in the world.

His hands kept roaming over her body, shameless, familiar.

That one scene hit Nathan Mercer like a knife straight through the heart. Rage shot up in him so fast it almost blew the top off his skull.

His head spun. His vision blurred. Even breathing started to feel hard.

That warm little family of his...

Gone.

All of it, gone.

Nathan’s eyes burned, and before he could stop it, tears slid down his face.

A man doesn’t cry easily.

He clenched his jaw so hard it hurt, wiped his tears away with the back of his hand, then looked around wildly like he’d lost his mind.

“Give me a knife,” he growled, voice shaking. “I swear I’ll stab that bastard to death!”

He sounded like a wounded beast pushed into a corner, making one last desperate fight.

“Bro, calm down!” Joel Mercer grabbed him hard and wouldn’t let go. “Think about the kid! You have to think about your daughter!”

The kid.

That word hit like a bucket of ice water dumped straight over Nathan’s head.

He froze on the spot.

At the same time, the man got into an A8 with Miranda Holloway. The car rolled right past Nathan and drove off without a pause.

Nathan saw it clearly.

Miranda was sitting in the front passenger seat, smiling.

Smiling.

He only needed one glance to burn the license plate into his memory.

Four sixes.

He kept staring until the A8 disappeared at the exit of the underground garage. Only then did Nathan let out a hoarse shout and slam his head against the center console.

He broke down and bawled, the kind of crying that came from somewhere deep in his chest, raw and ugly.

Joel Mercer sat there looking miserable, his face twisted with frustration, but he had no clue how to comfort him.

A long while passed before Nathan Mercer slowly straightened up. His eyes were swollen and red, like two bruised peaches.

Smack!

He suddenly slapped himself hard across the face.

“Bro!” Joel jerked in shock.

“I’m fine.” Nathan gritted the words out and smacked his own face a few more times. “I just lost it for a second.”

His hand was trembling.

Nathan slowly clenched his fist and took a deep breath, forcing the air into his lungs, forcing himself to calm down.

Joel hurriedly handed him a bottle of water. “Bro, want me to get some guys together? We can beat that bastard up.”

Nathan’s whole body tensed. “No. Anything illegal is off-limits. Haven’t I learned that lesson the hard way already?” He shook his head hard. “Stay out of this. I’ll deal with it myself.”

“Then divorce her.” Joel’s teeth were practically grinding. “Miranda Holloway that slut—she doesn’t get a free pass.”

Their parents had died early. The two brothers had leaned on each other growing up, surviving side by side. Their bond wasn’t something a few words could explain.

Nathan let out a long breath. His face looked ashen, beaten down. “If I divorce her, my daughter becomes a kid from a single-parent home.”

“That still doesn’t mean you keep living with that bitch!” Joel said without backing off, his stance rock solid.

Nathan gave a bitter laugh, one that sounded more painful than amused. “Joel… when you get married someday, you’ll understand.”

Marriage wasn’t child’s play.

And husband and wife weren’t business partners who could just cut ties the second a deal went bad.

Were there people who could make a clean break without hesitation? Of course there were.

Yes.

Not many.

People had feelings. People had things they were scared to lose.

And when a child was caught in the middle, the whole mess didn’t just get harder—it got ten times, a hundred times harder.

“Bro, if it were me, I seriously couldn’t hold it in,” Joel Mercer said, still boiling with anger. His jaw was tight, his eyes red with frustration. “Even if I had to die for it, I’d drag that bastard down with me.”

Nathan Mercer lit a cigarette and took a long, deep drag.

Smoke curled around his face, thin and pale, blurring the bitterness in his eyes.

After a long pause, he finally spoke, voice low and rough. “There was a guy in my cell. Same age as me...” He stopped for a second, his face turning grim. “Someone touched his wife’s chest. He couldn’t swallow that humiliation, so he went straight to the man’s place and stabbed him to death.”

Joel froze.

Nathan went on, each word heavy.

“Breaking in. Intentional homicide. Death sentence.”

“When the final review came down...” Nathan’s throat moved slightly. His expression darkened even more. “He collapsed on the spot. Couldn’t even hold himself together. Pissed and shit the bed. Cried like crazy, kept saying he regretted it. Said it wasn’t worth it. Not even a little.”

Joel opened his mouth, then shut it again.

He had nothing to say.

His chest felt clogged up, like a stone had been shoved right into it. Angry, helpless, suffocated—everything mixed together until he couldn’t sort any of it out.

Nathan pinched out the cigarette and flicked the butt hard out the car window.

Then he lifted a hand and patted his younger brother on the shoulder. His tone was steady now, almost like he was forcing himself to stay calm.

“Joey, in this life, other than life and death, everything else is bullshit.”

Then Nathan laughed at himself, a short, self-mocking laugh that sounded worse than crying.

“If you want life to keep moving, sometimes you’ve just gotta accept a little green on your head.”

He said it like a joke, but the pain behind it was obvious. Like he was pressing a knife into his own wound and pretending it didn’t hurt.

“Don’t worry,” he added. “Your brother can handle it.”

At that point, Joel really couldn’t say anything else.

This was his older brother’s family matter, after all. No matter how furious he was, no matter how badly he wanted to rush out and smash someone’s face in, he couldn’t make the choice for Nathan.

After a few seconds, he said quietly, “Bro, if there’s anything you need me to do, just call me.”

“Got it.” Nathan forced out a faint smile. “You head back. I want to be alone for a while.”

Why was a man called a man?

Because this crap was really damn hard.