Chapter 1

I was eighteen when I first met Wade.

I had gone over to my best friend Becky’s house, and she dragged me along to introduce her notoriously cold-hearted older brother.

But the second I laid eyes on Wade, my heart skipped a beat.

From that day forward, I fell into a bottomless, one-sided infatuation.

The day I finally confessed was Christmas.

I stood at the door of his apartment. "Wade, I like you. I've liked you since the very first time I saw you."

That night was the first time I climbed into his bed.

I knew how cheap it made me look. But back then, I thought that as long as I could stay by his side, even as a secret bedmate, it was worth it.

For three whole years, I was his secretary by day and his secret lover by night.

I thought that, eventually, he would see my worth.

Until Stella returned.

Wade's childhood sweetheart, who had gone abroad for medical treatment three years ago, was now fully recovered and back in the country.

Wade threw a lavish welcome banquet just for her.

I stood at the fringe of the crowd, watching Wade lead Stella into the hall by the hand.

"The childhood sweethearts are finally reunited. Wade should be ready to settle down now, right?"

"I heard they were close to getting engaged before she went abroad. I bet wedding bells are around the corner."

The surrounding whispers pierced my ears like needles.

Later, people started cheering for them. Emboldened by the alcohol, Stella leaned into Wade, stood on her tiptoes, and kissed his lips.

The entire room erupted in cheers.

I stood frozen in place. My fingers gripped my wine glass so tightly that my nails dug into my palms.

Once the crowd thinned out a bit, I walked up to Wade, forcing back my humiliation to ask him what we actually were to each other.

His voice wasn't loud, but it carried perfectly to everyone around us.

"Camila, you were the one who confessed to me. You crawled into my bed and volunteered to be my bedmate."

He looked at me, his eyes completely devoid of warmth, a mocking smirk playing on his lips.

"And now you're clinging to me like this. Don't you realize how cheap and pathetic you look?"

Everyone's gaze pinned me in place, looking at me like I was the punchline of a joke.

The gentle way he treated Stella was just as real as the ruthless way he tore my dignity to shreds.

Suddenly, I found this pathetic chase entirely meaningless.

I unlocked my phone and opened the message thread with my arranged marriage prospect—a man I had barely spoken to since adding his contact.

"I agree to the marriage. Let's set the date as soon as possible."

I looked up, meeting Wade's eyes.

"I see," I said. "I won't bother you anymore."

I turned on my heel and walked away.

After the banquet, Becky called me, chattering excitedly about the latest show she was watching and a new bag she bought.

"By the way, how are you? Any progress with that guy you've been chasing for years?"

I leaned back against the car seat, watching the neon lights blur past the window.

"I'm getting married," I said calmly.

There was a pause on the line before Becky let out a massive sigh of relief. "Finally! I thought you were going to hang yourself on that dead tree forever. Congratulations, Camila. Seriously, I'm so happy for you."

I smiled, choosing not to tell her that the dead tree was her brother.

First thing the next morning, I walked into the HR department to hand in my resignation.

"Camila, if you want to resign, the CEO needs to sign off on this personally." The HR manager slid the paperwork back to me.

My chest tightened. Even my final exit couldn't bypass Wade.

That night, I took the documents to his private villa.

The second I pushed the door open, I froze.

In the living room, Stella was openly wearing my lace nightgown, nestled intimately against Wade's chest. Wade was gently stroking her hair.

He murmured something low into her ear, making her gasp in mock outrage and bat playfully at his chest.

As I stepped back, the folder slipped from my grasp, sending the papers scattering across the floor.

Hearing the noise, Wade stepped out into the hallway.

The moment he saw me, his expression hardened to ice.

"Why are you here?"

I bent down to gather the papers, my knuckles turning bone-white, but I kept my voice perfectly steady. "I have a document that needs your signature."

He glanced at me, then looked back at Stella in the living room, lowering his voice. "Stella is moving into the master bedroom. Take the next few days to pack your things and move to the guest room. You're Becky's friend, after all. I promised her I'd take care of you."

I had spent three indignantly cheap years as his dirty little secret, and in the end, my only right to occupy a sliver of this house was handed to me as charity on account of my best friend.

Looking at his arrogant, perfectly calculated way of arranging my existence, I suddenly felt that dragging this out was incredibly pointless.

"No need." I straightened up and looked him dead in the eye. "I already have other arrangements. I won't trouble you."

I handed him the resignation report. Assuming it was just a routine corporate document, he signed it seamlessly without even looking.

Once I packed my last bags and handed over my final work...

These three absurd years would finally be over.

And I was getting married.

I spent the entire night parked in my car out on the street, wide awake.

Early the next morning, I returned to the villa to pack my things.

When I pushed open the door to the master bedroom, I stood dead in my tracks—the room had been completely renovated into a sea of pink. Pink curtains, pink bed sheets, a custom pink vanity.

I had once nervously suggested to Wade: "Could we maybe decorate the room like a pink princess suite?"

Wade had brutally rejected it with a cold stare. "Pink is tacky. Don't even think about it."

Now, the moment Stella came back, he changed everything.

Wade appeared in the doorway, a trace of impatience in his voice.

"Stella saw your things still sitting in here yesterday and threw a fit."

"Hurry up and pack."

He pointed down to the end of the narrow hallway, gesturing toward the cramped, dust-filled storage room.

When I got to the storage room, I finally understood the brutal reality behind his words.