Chapter 1

At my mother's funeral, I stopped outside the lounge.

Through the door, I heard Julian—my fiancé—delivering a cold warning to my father:

"You can stop obsessing over Harper, Richard. She's with me now. Don't bother her anymore."

My father immediately tried to use me to suppress him. "Don't forget you're marrying Sloane next week! If she finds out you're screwing the orphan her mother took in..."

Julian cut him off. "She'll never know. Just like she'll never know her mother didn't actually die of depression. She killed herself because she caught you two together."

Father's counterattack threw me straight into hell:

"What right do you have to judge me?! When Sloane was frantic, calling you for help, what were you doing? If you hadn't been rolling around in a hotel bed with Harper, if you hadn't lied to Sloane that you were 'on your way,' her mother would never have died!"

A violent ringing filled my ears.

I slammed the door open, stormed in, and slapped Julian across the face with every ounce of strength I had left.

The man I was supposed to marry in seven days merely turned his head. It took him exactly one second to suppress his shock.

"Since you heard everything, good. Better to accept reality now, so you don't break down later."

"For the sake of the Vance family heir you're carrying, the wedding next week proceeds as planned."

"But I have responsibilities to Harper, too. That tie won't be severed."

 .....

"You were lying to me the whole time?" The taste of copper rose in my throat, my voice trembling uncontrollably. "You left me waiting in despair while my mother died?"

Julian swiped at the bleeding scratch my ring had left on his cheek. His facade of gentleness ripped away, leaving only sheer arrogance in his eyes.

"That day, Harper finally opened up to me—I couldn't pull myself away. It was only a few minutes late. How was I supposed to know your mother would actually kill herself?"

Julian sighed. He took a step forward, reaching out to wipe away my tears. I jerked my head away.

"Sloane, I thought if I stepped in and took Harper off his hands, your father would finally give up."

"Who could have anticipated your mother would suddenly discover the sapphire pendant Richard gave Harper?"

My father frantically avoided my gaze.

Years ago, when my father was critically ill and facing bankruptcy, my mother sold all her heirloom jewelry and flew to Europe to acquire that protective sapphire at a massive cost.

In the end, it became the very death warrant that pushed her over the edge.

"Harper was terrified that night..." As Julian spoke of Harper, a sickening tenderness surfaced in his eyes, his lips curving into a faint smile. "She melted into my arms, so incredibly yielding that I couldn't possibly say no."

Watching the expression on his face, I had a dizzying flashback to our yacht party proposal.

This same man had dropped to one knee amidst the cheers of the crowd, his eyes red with emotion as he swore to me:

"Sloane, I will bet my life on this: I will be loyal to you forever, and I will protect you always."

That vow still echoed in my ears, yet the man standing before me felt completely alien—like a monster wearing human skin.

Harper walked in. Her eyes were red-rimmed. Looking like a startled rabbit, she made a beeline for me.

"Sloane, you look awful. Why don't you go lie down for a bit?"

My eyes locked onto the slightly open collar of her dress. There, branded on her skin, was a glaring purple hickey.

I suddenly remembered how both she and Julian had stayed out all night over the last three days.

Absorbed in the suffocating grief of losing my mother, I hadn't thought twice about it.

I grabbed her forcefully by the hair. "You seduced my father! You slept with my fiancé! You all colluded to drive my mother to her death!"

Years ago, it was my mother who charged into the inferno at the orphanage, digging a severely burned Harper out of the rubble with her bare hands.

She pampered her and healed her like her own flesh and blood.

We grew up under the same roof. My mother loved her like a daughter, and I treated her like my dearest sister.

I remembered the afternoon before my mother's suicide.

She came home freezing and trembling uncontrollably. When I asked her what was wrong, she couldn't say a word; she just gripped my hands and wept in utter despair.

Only at this moment did I understand the sickening betrayal and inescapable dead-end she had faced.

Now, this ungrateful wretch who trampled on her savior's corpse to climb to the top was letting out a piercing scream.

"I didn't..."

Two brutal forces violently collided with me from the front.

Julian and Richard, one on each side, mercilessly shoved me back.

Losing my balance, my forehead slammed hard against the sharp corner of a marble sculpture. A dull, sickening pain radiated from the split flesh, and warm liquid instantly streamed down my brow into my left eye. My vision was swamped in crimson.

I stared at the two men gripping Harper tightly in their protective embrace.

"Take your anger out on me!" my father barked, eyes blazing as he pointed at me.

"Your mother was always paranoid! She brought this on herself by refusing to sign the divorce papers! Don't take it out on Harper!"

The churning nausea in my stomach eclipsed everything else.

"Blaming her at her own funeral." I pointed toward my mother's portrait outside. "You disgust me."

I turned and walked away.

The apartment was terrifyingly quiet. The wedding photos on the wall, the unopened baby onesies on the couch—every single item mocked my former delusions.

I yanked out a suitcase and swept my clothes from the closet into it.

I would rather leave with my child and face life alone than stay.

The electronic lock beeped rapidly.

Julian strode into the bedroom.

Spotting the suitcase on the floor, he immediately closed the distance, pinning my wrists. Ignoring my struggles, he forcefully wrapped his arms around me from behind.

"I didn't control my strength well enough back at the church. But I had to stop you. Harper is so fragile, and you took it too far. I will take on the responsibilities of a father. Just be a good girl, stay here, and prepare for the wedding."

I thrust him away.

"Why?" I demanded.