Chapter 3

Sylvia hailed a cab, her ankle still throbbing with a dull ache, and rode back to the Brooks Mansion.

Cold rain seeped through her coat, chilling her to the bone, as if freezing her heart along with it.

The servant opened the door, surprise flickering in his eyes. "Ms. Brooks? What are you—"

Sylvia brushed past him without a word.

In the opulent living room, Gary Brooks and Laura Williams were enjoying their afternoon tea like nothing in the world could disturb them.

"Sylvia? What brings you back so suddenly?" Laura set down her cup first, her face arranging itself into the same practiced smile she always wore.

Sylvia ignored her, locking her gaze on Gary. Her voice was hoarse but rang with clarity. "Dad, I am breaking off my engagement to Andrew."

The words cracked through the air like a thunderclap.

"What did you just say?" Gary shot to his feet. "Breaking off the engagement? Sylvia, do you have any idea what nonsense you're spouting?"

Laura's smile evaporated. She stepped forward, reaching for Sylvia's hand. "Sylvia, did Andrew do something to upset you? Tell me, I'll—"

"What did he do?" Sylvia let out a cold, mirthless laugh. "He slept with Rosa. On our engagement anniversary. Is that reason enough for you?"

Her words sliced through the room, shredding the veneer of civility.

Gary's expression darkened, his eyes flickering with something that suggested he wasn't entirely surprised. But clearly, that wasn't his concern.

"Even if Andrew was foolish—made the kind of mistake men are known for—you're his fiancée. Show some grace! Break it off? Do you have any idea what that would mean?"

"Consequences? You mean losing that twenty percent stake?" Sylvia's voice cut like glass. "In your eyes, my happiness, my dignity, are worth less than those soulless numbers on a ledger?"

"Watch your tone!" Gary's voice thundered. He jabbed a finger toward her face. "Marriage is no trivial matter! Your engagement to the Smith Family has been set for years. It concerns the alliance between the Brooks Family and the Smith Family—our reputation! You think you can just call it off? I'm telling you, that's impossible!"

Laura chimed in, her tone cutting. "Sylvia, don't be ungrateful! Andrew choosing you is a blessing. Rosa grew up with him—so what if they're close? As his fiancée, you should be able to tolerate that. If you break it off now and offend the Smith Family, what will happen to our name? How will your father survive in business?"

"Tolerate?" Sylvia almost laughed in disbelief. She looked at the two people who claimed to be her parents and felt the last threads of hope snap.

"You disgust me. For profit, you've sold off every shred of decency you had. Listen well—this marriage is finished. Even if I lose my entire stake, even if I end up penniless, I will never marry Andrew."

"Don't you dare!" Gary's body shook with rage. "If you walk away from this marriage, you're out of the Brooks family for good. As far as I'm concerned, you're dead to me. And don't think you'll see a single share, not a penny from the estate. Let's see how you crawl through life without them."

"Fine!" Sylvia's voice broke into a scream, years of suppressed anger erupting. "I've had enough of this house! Since the day my mother died, there's been no place for me here!"

She turned for the door, her back rigid with resolve.

"Go ahead!" Gary roared after her. "Step out that door and never come back!"

Sylvia didn't pause. She left the mansion without looking back.

The wind outside cut straight through her, hollowing her out.

She walked out of the wealthy district, and the moment she stepped onto the street, she saw the last face she wanted to see.

Andrew.

He was coming straight toward her.

"Well, well. Did you run home to complain?" His tone was mocking, his smile poisonous.

Sylvia tried to sidestep him without a word.

Andrew's hand shot out, gripping her wrist.

"Let go of me!" she snapped, struggling.

"Let go?" He leaned in, his voice low and dangerous. "Sylvia, my patience is running thin. I'm here to give you two choices.

"Either you marry me quietly, or you hand over the shares. Otherwise, I have plenty of ways to make sure you can't stay in City A."

Sylvia stared at his smug face, feeling nothing but revulsion and despair.

A vulture in front of her, cold-blooded family behind her—it seemed no matter how she fought, she was trapped.

Was she really going to surrender to this fate, marry Andrew, and endure a lifetime of humiliation?

"I'll give you one day to think it over. Be smart. Don't keep me waiting." Andrew's smile was all ice as he turned toward the Brooks Mansion.

"Think carefully. I'm going to pay a visit to your father."

Sylvia's knees weakened. She braced herself against a nearby wall, her pale fingers pressing so hard they whitened at the knuckles.

She didn't notice the figure standing a short distance away—a man in a plain jacket, watching her in silence. Henry.

His lips pressed into a thin line as he strode toward her.

"Ms. Brooks."

Sylvia looked up, startled. "What are you doing here?"

Henry didn't answer. He held out a plain bank card. "It's not much, but it should help you for now. The password is six zeros."

Sylvia stared at the man before her—a waiter barely keeping himself afloat—feeling a tangle of emotions. Gratitude, but also caution.

"Why are you helping me?" she asked.

Henry met her gaze, steady and unflinching. "They've gone too far. It's not easy for a woman to stand alone."

Before she could reply, he seemed to remember something. "My cousin has an old place sitting empty. It's a bit out of the way, but quiet. If you have nowhere to go, you can stay there."

Sylvia was reluctant to accept. But maybe it was because of the way he'd stood in front of her yesterday, shielding her—that her resistance had softened, just a little.

With nowhere else to turn, she agreed, moving into the apartment Henry had mentioned.

The place was simply furnished but spotless, with every necessity in place.

Henry left after settling her in.

That night, Sylvia didn't respond to Andrew. He didn't send another message.

Two tense, uneasy days passed, her nerves on edge, expecting him to show up.

But instead of Andrew, it was the news that came for her.

#Smith Group Subsidiary Under Investigation, Projects May Be Suspended

#Funding Crisis? Multiple Partners Cut Ties With Andrew Of The Smith Family

#Scandal Rocks The Elite — Andrew's Chaotic Private Life Exposed, Reputation In Freefall

One after another, the blows landed, as if orchestrated.

Sylvia stared at the headlines, not feeling much satisfaction—only a growing sense of unease.

It was too sudden. Too precise.

Like an unseen hand was striking at Andrew from the shadows.

But whose hand was it?