Burning My Love To Ground

On our seventh wedding anniversary, my husband, Julian Vance, spent forty million dollars at a charity gala to buy back my late mothers diamond necklace.

But the moment he secured it, he turned around and gently fastened it around the neck of his first love, Blair Sterling.

He even took the elite medical team reserved for my life-saving treatment and handed them over to herjust because she had slightly sprained her ankle.

He looked at me and said, "Sera, youve always been the strong, rational one. Blair is terrified of pain. Dont pick a fight with her over this."

Clutching my terminal cancer diagnosis in my cold hand, I felt an exhausting, bone-deep weariness wash over me.

My time was running out. I wouldnt fight her for him anymore.

The lights of the grand ballroom were blindingly bright.

I sat in the audience, my fingers ice-cold as I tightly gripped the thin piece of paper in my pursea diagnosis of late-stage glioblastoma.

On stage, the auctioneer slammed his gavel down with ecstatic energy.

"Forty million! Congratulations to Mr. Vance for winning this stunning diamond necklace, 'The First Snow'!"

The room erupted into thunderous applause. Every eye in the house turned toward the front row, admiring the tall, devastatingly handsome man in a tailored tuxedo.

Julian Vance.

My husband. My love of ten years, and my partner in a seven-year marriage.

That necklace was my late mothers most treasured possession. I had been forced to pawn it three years ago when my familys business collapsed.

Julian had promised me that tonight, he would bring it back home. He said it would be our seventh-anniversary gift.

I watched him stand up and accept the velvet box from the stage hostess. A fragile, hopeful smile began to form on my lips, and I prepared to stand and greet him.

But Julian didn't walk toward me.

He turned, walked straight past my row, and went to the other side of the room where Blair Sterling sat, her eyes red and watery.

Under the stunned gaze of the entire high-society crowd, Julian personally draped the necklacethe one carrying all my memories of my motheraround Blair's neck.

"You had a scare today, Blair. Consider this a little gift to soothe your nerves."

His voice, transmitted through the microphone, was deep, gentle, and echoed clearly throughout the massive hall.

Blair covered her mouth, tears trembling on her eyelashes as she leaned delicately into his chest. "Julian, this is too expensive... Won't Sera be angry?"

"She won't." Julian didn't even glance back at me. His voice was dismissive, utterly cold. "Its just a necklace. Shes not that petty."

I sat frozen in my seat. Around me, the whispers of the guests began to pierce my ears like poisoned needles.

"Oh my god, the poor Mrs. Vance. Her husband just gifted a priceless heirloom to his ex right in front of her."

"Everyone knows Julian only has eyes for Blair. Seraphina is just a placeholder."

Suddenly, a sharp, blinding pain stabbed through my brain, as if a chainsaw were ripping through my nerves.

I gasped and quickly covered my nose. A warm, thick liquid flowed out without warning.

Blood.

It dripped rapidly through my fingers, staining my custom white gown. It was a horrifying contrast.

I didn't make a sound. Trembling, I pulled a handful of tissues from my clutch, pressed them hard against my face, and stumbled out of the hall through the back exit under the mocking stares of the crowd.

Outside, the freezing winter wind slapped my face like a whip.

I looked back through the glass doors at the glittering hall. Julian was leaning down, tenderly adjusting a wrap over Blair's shoulders, treating her like fragile porcelain.

"Julian," I whispered his name, my mouth filling with the bitter, metallic taste of blood.

Seraphina. My name meant burning fire, but my life had already burned down to the very end. I was about to become nothing but ash.

And he was still spending his millions to keep someone else warm.

When I returned to the cold, echoing mansion we called "home," I didn't turn on the lights.

I groped my way into the bathroom in the dark. Looking in the mirror, I saw a pale, ghostly face. The nosebleed had stopped, but the dull, pounding pain in my head remained.

My doctors words echoed in my ears: "Sera, the tumor is pressing against your optic nerve and memory center. You will gradually lose your sight, then your memories, and finally, brain death. At most, you have three months."

Three months.

I splashed cold water on my face, pulled the wrinkled diagnosis sheet out of my bag, and was about to lay it on the coffee table when the front door was thrown open.

Julian walked in, bringing the chill of the night with him.

"Why are the lights off?" He flipped the switch, and the sudden glare made me wince and close my eyes.

He marched over to me, his brow furrowed in deep irritation.

"Sera, what was that stunt at the gala? Leaving early without saying a word? Are you throwing a tantrum to embarrass me?"

I opened my eyes and looked at this man. The man I had loved for a decade.

"That necklace belonged to my mother," I said, my voice so hoarse and cracked that it sounded foreign to my own ears.

Julians hand paused on his tie. Then, he let out a cold scoff.

"Its just a piece of jewelry, Sera. Blair was tripped by some loose cables backstage and got badly shaken up. Whats wrong with me giving her something to calm her down?"

"As my wife, do you really lack this much basic compassion?"

"Shaken up?" I laughed, a bitter, hollow sound that made my stomach churn with nausea. "She gets a little scared, so she gets my mothers final heirloom to feel better? Julian, do you even have a heart?"

"Enough!" Julian slammed his tie onto the sofa, his eyes flashing icy anger. "Don't start with your dramatic accusations, Sera. Blair has been physically weak since she was a child. You have everything in the world. Why do you always have to fight her for every little thing?"

I had everything?

I stared at him, finding his words incredibly absurd.

My parents were dead. My family was bankrupt. I had worked myself to the bone helping him build his empire from scratch, destroying my own health in the process. Now, all I had left was a terminal brain cancer diagnosis.

And he had the nerve to say I had everything.

"Julian, what if I told you I was dying?" I asked, looking straight into his eyes.

Julian froze for a fraction of a second. Then, a look of profound disgust swept across his face.

"Sera, are you seriously using a fake illness now just because you're jealous? Your annual health reports are sent directly to my office by my assistant. Aside from some mild anemia, you're perfectly fine!"

"Stop acting. I'm exhausted."

Without even looking at the paper crumpled in my hand, he turned and stormed upstairs, slamming the guest room door shut behind him.

I stood alone in the empty, silent living room. My hands and feet felt completely numb.

Of course he didn't know.

He never had the time to go to the hospital with me. The assistant he sent to manage my medical records had been bought off by Blair months ago.

I slowly opened my fist. The crumpled diagnosis paper was stained with my blood.

I walked over to the trash can, opened my hand, and let it go.

The paper fluttered down, disappearing into the trash.

Since he didn't want to believe me, there was no point in saying another word.

The next morning, I woke up to a violent wave of nausea.

I collapsed over the toilet, throwing up sour fluid mixed with streaks of blood. When I finally stood up, my vision blurred into a gray haze for a terrifying few seconds.

I knew my time was slipping away faster than expected.

I forced myself to clean up and went downstairs. Julian was sitting at the dining table, sipping his coffee.

Seeing me, he actually spoke firsta rare occurrence lately.

"This afternoon, I need you to sign over your shares in the Southside Heights Redevelopment Project."

My footsteps halted. I stared at him in disbelief.

The Southside Heights project was my blood, sweat, and tears for the past three years. It was my ultimate professional achievement, built on sleepless nights.

"Why?" I managed to ask.

Julian set his coffee cup down, his tone entirely casual.

"Blair wants to learn how to manage a business. She doesnt have any experience, and the Southside project is already running smoothly. It's the perfect training ground for her."

"To compensate you, Ill have fifty million dollars wired to your personal account."

He wanted to hand over my life's work to his darling Blair as a plaything?

I walked over, leaning my hands on the table, staring intensely into his handsome face.

"Julian, do you think my life and my hard work exist solely to pave the road for Blair Sterling?"

Julians brow snapped together. My resistance clearly annoyed him.

"Sera, be realistic. Blair is all alone in this city with no family to support her. As her older brother figure, it's my duty to look after her. You're already Mrs. Vance. You have everything you could ever want. Why are you greedily hoarding a single project?"

"Older brother figure?" I let out a sharp, mocking laugh. "What kind of 'brother' gifts a forty-million-dollar romantic necklace to his 'sister' at a public gala? What kind of 'brother' robs his own wife to give to another woman?"

"Bam!"

Julian slammed his hand on the table and stood up, his expression dark and menacing.

"Sera, don't push your luck! You will sign those shares over whether you like it or not! You don't call the shots in this family!"

He grabbed his suit jacket, turned on his heel, and slammed the front door as he stormed out.

The deafening sound vibrated through my ears, and a sharp, agonizing pain erupted in my brain.

I collapsed onto the floor, cold sweat instantly soaking through my shirt.

My vision plunged into pitch darkness.

This time, the darkness lasted for ten agonizing minutes.

When light finally crawled back into my eyes, I looked around the massive, empty mansion and let out a soft, hollow laugh.

Tears streamed down my cheeks.

"Julian, you want to give her everything, don't you? You want to strip me bare for her?"

"Fine. Ill let you."

I pulled out my phone and dialed my lawyer.

"Arthur, prepare a divorce agreement for me. Also, liquidate all the assets under my personal name. Sell them immediately, even if it's below market value."

"Yes. As fast as possible."

Over the next few days, I moved like a ghost through the city, wrapping up my affairs.

I sold my properties, my car, and even the expensive jewelry Julian had gifted me over the years.

With the proceeds, I established a trust fund for blind children.

Since my own eyes were failing, I wanted to help others see the beauty of the world I was leaving behind.

On the fourth afternoon, I walked out of the private clinic after my final session of palliative chemotherapy. I was so weak that my legs trembled with every step.

Just as I reached the pavement, a bright red sports car screeched to a halt right in front of me.

The window rolled down, revealing Blair. She wore oversized designer sunglasses, a sweet but venomous smirk plastered on her face.

"Sera! What a coincidence. Are you here for a checkup?"

She scanned my pale, skinny frame with smug satisfaction.

"Julian told me youve been throwing a tantrum lately and told me to ignore you. But Im just too soft-hearted. I felt bad for you, so I wanted to deliver some news in person."

She took off her sunglasses, grabbed a document from the passenger seat, and tossed it out the window. It fluttered down, landing right at my feet.

"The Southside Heights project is officially under my name now."

I stared down at the paper bearing Julians personal signature seal. My heart didn't even ache. It was completely numb.

"Blair, does taking my leftovers really bring you this much joy?" I asked quietly.

Blairs smile stiffened for a second, then her smirk widened.

"Sera, keep playing tough. Julians heart is with me. Your money, your project, your necklacethey are all mine now. All it takes is one tear from me, and he will crush you under his shoe."

"Don't believe me? Watch. If I call him right now and say Im feeling dizzy, he will abandon his multi-billion-dollar board meeting and run to my side instantly."

She pulled out her phone, dialed Julians number, and switched to speakerphone.

"Julian..." her voice instantly transformed into a fragile, breathless whimper. "Im outside the municipal hospital... I suddenly feel so dizzy, and my chest hurts..."

On the other end of the line, Julians voice was instantly frantic. In the background, I could hear his executives whispering during a presentation.

"Blair? What's wrong? Don't panic, I'm on my way! Stay right there!"

The call disconnected.

Blair looked at me triumphantly. "See? That is exactly how much you matter to him."

I looked at her face, warped by greed and malice, and felt nothing but pity.

I didn't answer her. I turned to hail a cab.

But before I could open the passenger door, loud, frantic footsteps echoed behind me.

"Sera! What did you do to her?!"

I turned around. Julian had arrived in record time. He wasn't even wearing his suit jacket, his tie was loose, and sweat dripped down his forehead as he rushed over and shielded Blair behind him.

He glared at me with pure rage, as if I were a monster.

"Blair only came here for a routine checkup! Why did you push her?!"

I froze.

"Push her?"

I looked at Blair standing perfectly fine behind him, clutching her chest with tears streaming down her face.

"Julian, please don't blame Sera... I just lost my balance... Shes just angry with me, so she barely touched me..."

Her acting was truly Oscar-worthy.

"Julian, with which eye did you see me push her?" I asked coldly.

"If you didn't push her, why is she having chest pains? Sera, your jealousy has turned you into an unrecognizable, bitter hag!" Julian roared.

Another wave of agony hit my head. The world spun, and I had to grip the car door tightly to keep from collapsing.

"Believe whatever you want."

I didn't have the energy to argue. I bent down and climbed into the cab. "Driver, please go."

As the taxi pulled away, I looked in the rearview mirror. Julian was lifting Blair into his arms, carrying her frantically toward the emergency room.

He didn't even notice the small pool of fresh blood left on the concrete where I had been standing.