Chapter 1
Every time the President brought another beautiful woman into his court, he’d send his wife a gift.
from rare blood–red pearls to secret treasures from snowy peaks, she accepted them all without a word.
Until one day, he brought home her own sister and gifted her a vintage blue peacock feather set.
For the first time, the First Lady cried.
He’d forgotten blue peacocks had haunted her since childhood.
Her father had once favored a mistress so much, he threw her mother into the peacock garden just to entertain her.
So on the day she agreed to marry him, she said: “If the day comes you no longer love me,
don’t say a word.
Just send me a blue peacock, and I’ll understand.”
Now he had.
And she wouldn’t hold on anymore.
The moment I saw Victor Lancaster walking hand–in–hand with my little sister, everything snapped into place.
Seven years of love?
Just smoke and mirrors.
A beautiful dream I should’ve woken up from long ago.
Now… it’s time to wake up.
My eyes swept across the Private Chapel, each polished plaque glowing dully under the candlelight.
Then I closed my eyes and bowed for the nine hundred and ninety–ninth time.
“I, Madison Lancaster, have failed as wife and partner.
I ask our ancestors‘ blessing–to leave this marriage in peace.”
My forehead hit the ground, and blood bloomed beneath me.
The curtains rustled.
The former First Lady entered, her steps careful, supported by her aide.
“You’re sure about this?” she asked softly.
I turned to face her, blood streaking my forehead/lips curled in a broken smile.
“I’m sure. Please… let me go.”
She let out a sigh–deep, weary, as if something in her finally broke too.
“Alright. The papers will be signed in seven days.
Prepare yourself.”
I bowed to her, and with help from my assistant, limped out of the family chapel.
Chapter 1
Seven years ago, I walked in here beside Victor, hand in hand, promising forever in front of everyone who mattered.
Now I stood alone, asking to be released.
People change.
Love fades.
Even the most sacred promises can crack.
Back in my room, the birthday gift Victor gave me still sat unopened on the dresser.
Beside it, a half–finished hand–embroidered baby bib.
Three days ago was my birthday.
And for the first time in seven years Victor showed up late.
I waited from sunrise to sundown.
He staggered in after midnight, drunk, tossed a velvet box onto my lap.
“Here. Birthday present.”
He sounded like he was checking off a chore.
I hesitated, hopeful despite everything, and opened the box.
And the moment I saw what was inside, the color drained from my face.
In seven years of marriage, Victor had showered me with everything from rare gems to designer art pieces.
But nothing, nothing–cut deeper than what he gave me that night.
Blue. Peacock. Feathers.
He’d remembered.
And still gave them to me.
He really meant it.
I was frozen, staring into that box, when Victor frowned.
“What, you don’t like it?”
I opened my mouth.
My throat burned.
“…I love it.”
Seven years of marriage, and this was the moment I’d been dreading.
He saw through my forced smile and scoffed.
“Unbelievable. I give you a damn gift, and this is how you act?”
“Whatever. I’m out of here.”
He turned to leave.
But right before he crossed the doorway.
I called out–voice barely holding together.
Chapter 1
“Victor… do you remember what I said on our wedding night?”
He stopped.
His eyes sharpened.
“What did you just call me?” he said coldly.
His voice was no longer the man I married–but the man who ruled the empire.
That’s when I finally understood.
The Victor who held my hand through fire and storm… was gone.
This man wasn’t my partner.
He was the President.
I set the box down and knelt.
“My apologies, Mr. President.
I spoke out of turn.
Please punish me as you see fit.”
He gave a curt snort.
Apparently, that was enough.
“Don’t let it happen again.”
I stayed kneeling on the cold floor, the chill seeping deep into my bones.
There won’t be a next time.
Victor, you said all you needed to without saying a word.
I won’t be your First Lady anymore.
And you’ll never again be my husband.
The countdown begins.
Seven days left.
