I Divorced The CEO after Rebirth

Serena's POV

The freezing water slammed into my face, jolting me awake like I'd been electrocuted.

My breath stolen by the icy shock, my throat instinctively tightened as flickering lights and shadows swam before my eyes.

I curled up on the cold, wet cement floor, my wrists burning from the rough plastic zip ties cutting into my skin, the chill penetrating straight through to my spine. I heard water dripping, the faint echo of metal doors clanging, and the low laughter of three men.

"Well, look who's finally awake," a scarred man leaned down, his gaze slicing over me like a skinning knife. "Look at that face, that body... premium merchandise right here."

"Damn right," another man with brown hair grinned, exhaling cigarette smoke in my face. "Put her in an underground auction, she'd fetch a good price. Ten grand minimum."

The third man lounged lazily against the wall, licking his teeth. "Or we could sample the goods ourselves before selling. Not like anyone would care what happens to her."

My stomach churned violently as my fingers dug into the freezing floor.

Fear coiled up my spine like a poisonous snake, but I forced myself to lift my head, keeping my voice as steady as possible.

"Wait!" My teeth chattered, but I fought to speak clearly.

"I'm... Serena Blackwood. Ryan Blackwood's wife. If it's money you want, I can give you more than any auction would pay. Just let me call my husband."

The three exchanged glances before erupting into louder laughter.

"Blackwood?" The scarred man narrowed his eyes. "The North American Blackwood family? You're his wife? How come I've never heard about you?"

He snickered, "Ha! Probably some mistress giving herself a fancy title. If she really was his wife, he'd be here already. Would we be having this little chat?"

Their mockery pierced my heart like nails.

Truth is, I wasn't sure myself. Three years ago, when Ryan pulled me from the se a, I had no memory. No family, no background-Ryan became my whole world's only light.

When he asked if I'd be his wife, I agreed without hesitation. But at night when we made love, he'd hold me while whispering a stranger's name-his deceased girlfriend, Sophie Hart.

That's when I realized I was just Sophie's shadow, a substitute wife.

To the outside world, Ryan Blackwood appeared the perfect, devoted husband. He looked after his ex's sister Ivy, while supposedly never letting his wife feel neglected.

He promised me that whatever he gave to Ivy, I'd receive tenfold. I would always be Mrs. Blackwood.

When he worried Ivy Hart might catch cold, he'd buy her a soft cashmere coat for $100, then turn around and give me a designer coat worth $1,000.

When he gifted Ivy a $5,000 diamond necklace for her birthday, I received a sapphire set worth $500,000.

I sealed all those gifts in the storage room, never opening them.

Each luxury item was like evidence, reminding me: he loved her, I just got the compensation.

But now, with my life in these men's hands, I had to gamble that he cared about me, even just a little.

"Number." The scarred man barked.

Trembling, I recited his private number, watching him dial.

Ring... ring...

Each tone cut like a knife.

Then, the call connected.

"Hello?" A sickeningly sweet voice came through, carrying a familiar laugh.

Ivy Hart.

My heart sank.

"Ivy," I struggled to keep my voice steady, "Put Ryan on the phone. I... I have an emergency-"

"Oh, Serena." She laughed softly, each note stabbing my heart like needles.