Chapter 1
At twenty, Helena Ziegler married Calvin Fernandez–New York’s youngest history professor and the man everyone once called a genius.
He was also autistic.
For seven years, she played the role of the perfect wife. He never touched her. Never kissed her. Never once looked at her with desire.
The only time he laid a hand on her was during his violent episodes―. biting her, clawing her, drawing blood like a caged beast.
And she endured it all.
Until that night.
During a family dinner, a projector screen suddenly flickered on- accidentally linked to a live feed from Calvin’s therapy room.
At first, static. Then… moans. Wet, obscene, unmistakable sounds of sex.
Everyone turned. The room went dead silent.
On screen, Calvin was gripping the edge of his desk, his eyes half–closed in raw, feral bliss.
Beneath him, his therapist–completely naked–was riding him like her life depended on it.
His veins bulged. His hips bucked. And not once did he resist.
All the relatives gasped.
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Helena stood, wiped her mouth with a napkin, and calmly declined the Canadian autism institute’s treatment offer–one she’d spent millions arranging for him.
Then she walked out, called her lawyer, and filed for divorce.
It was their seventh year of marriage. She was done putting up with it.
***
When Helena pressed her fingerprint, the door creaked open.
The air inside the villa smelled like ink. Papers were scattered all over the floor–old records, international certificates, all sorts of awards. Every single one belonged to Calvin.
She slid the folding screen aside and saw him sitting at his desk, completely focused. That was her husband, Calvin–the history professor.
His expression looked blank. His suit was all buttoned up, and his pale skin gave off a cold, distant vibe. No one could guess he just had a passionate hookup.
In the surveillance footage, Calvin’s ears were red, and he looked completely hooked. His eyes locked in, and his movements were wild and rough, like he’d lost control.
Helena dropped her gaze, her eyes starting to sting.
She suddenly stepped up and grabbed his hand. “Calvin, can we do it today?”
As she expected, Calvin frowned. He yanked his hand away, clearly grossed out, and pursed his lips. Staring at a history book on the desk, he said stiffly, “Disgusting…”
Autism made words hard for him. He’d only speak when he had to–like
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Chapter 1
now, when she brought up being intimate.
Helena looked down at his slender fingers.
She knew physical closeness made Calvin uncomfortable.
They had maintained a seven–year sexless marriage and only had distant respect. Occasionally, he’d help her out in other ways.
But every time, he’d shut his eyes tight, looking both hurt and distant. Just like now, his rejection was so obvious, she couldn’t pretend not to notice.
Yet just half an hour ago, in this very study, Kate Sullivan had been completely naked, lying across one of his prized history books, doing her so–called therapy session with him. He didn’t push her away at all.
Helena was his wife, but she felt like she meant less than a therapist he’d barely known for two weeks.
She clenched her hands, and a sharp pain shot through the fresh seven stitches on her shoulder. That injury came from Calvin biting her when he lost control before taking his meds the day before yesterday.
Whenever it was time for medicine, he’d scream and bite uncontrollably. Helena had never wanted to use a muzzle on him. She was scared he’d end up hurting himself, so she’d just hold him close and let him bite her until she was covered in blood.
That went on for seven years.
Her body was covered in rough scars and dark scabs–no part of it left untouched. It looked awful.
But what did it matter?
Helena laughed at herself, remembering the charity history talk she spent hundreds of thousands setting up for Calvin last month.
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Kate, a well–known psychiatrist and huge history nerd in America, kept clinging to him. She told him all about historical eras with an admiring look.
And Calvin, who normally barely talked, ended up having a three–hour chat with her.
Later, Kate applied to work as his psychologist. Helena hired her right away, thinking maybe she could help Calvin get better.
But how did that turn out?
Helena shut her eyes, remembering the moans she heard and the gossip from that family dinner.
“Can autistic people react like that?”
“It’s the difference between love and nothing. Come on, Professor Fernandez is still a guy. Look how into that female doctor he is. He’s obsessed with her!”
“Helena is just pathetic. Despite having a big background and a lot of money, she chooses to live like a widow.”
“You don’t know? Calvin used to be a genius. If he hadn’t been kidnapped in Helena’s place–locked in an elevator on the 42nd floor, and tortured for two whole weeks–he wouldn’t have ended up autistic. And Helena? She never would’ve had a shot at marrying him.”
They weren’t wrong.
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