Chapter 1

　　Vesper's POV

　　Six Years Ago…

　　The moment I stepped into the restaurant, I knew something was wrong.

　　It was the woman sitting beside him. Blonde, elegant, and beautiful in a polished way.

　　My stomach tightened as Elias looked up first. His expression shifted into annoyance instead of guilt. Like I was an inconvenience he hadn't planned for tonight.

　　"Vesper," he said slowly. "What are you doing here?"

　　I frowned. "You told me to meet you here."

　　Across the table, his mother sighed dramatically. "Honestly, Elias, you should've handled this before tonight."

　　Handled what exactly? Was I the 'this'?

　　The blonde glanced politely toward Elias. "Should I leave?"

　　"No," Elias answered immediately. "It's not necessary."

　　A cold feeling settled in my stomach.

　　"What's going on?" I asked quietly.

　　Elias leaned back in his chair. "It's my engagement dinner."

　　I laughed softly. "You're what?"

　　"My engagement, Vesper."

　　The blonde extended a manicured hand toward me with a practiced smile. "I'm Camille Laurent. It's nice to finally meet you."

　　Finally, meet me? And she already had his surname prepared.

　　I stared at Elias.  "We've been together for three years."

　　"And?"

　　The single word sliced clean through me.

　　"You told me you loved me."

　　"I do," he said flatly. "But love doesn't build empires."

　　I swallowed hard. "So that's it? You replace me overnight?"

　　"Stop being dramatic." Elias sighed impatiently. "This arrangement doesn't have to change anything."

　　I frowned. "What?"

　　"The engagement is temporary. Public. Strategic." He spoke slowly, as if I was struggling to keep up intellectually. "You can stay with me."

　　The meaning hit a second later, and my stomach twisted violently.

　　"You want me to be your mistress?"

　　Camille stiffened beside him, but Elias barely reacted. 

　　"I want you to stop acting emotional. I think you're smarter than throwing your life away because your feelings are hurt."

　　Something inside me cracked quietly.

　　I unclasped the necklace around my neck — the one he bought me on our first anniversary — and dropped it onto the table.

　　"I'm done with this disrespect."

　　I turned before he could see the tears burning my eyes.

　　"Vesper."

　　I stopped walking because a stupid part of me still loved hearing him say my name.

　　When I looked back, his expression was unreadable again.

　　"You'll come back," he said confidently. "You always do."

　　Those words followed me all the way out of the restaurant.

　　By the time my phone rang, I was halfway down the block trying not to cry in public.

　　I almost ignored it.

　　But when I saw my father's name flash across the screen, dread crawled up my spine.

　　"Dad?"

　　"Vesper…" His voice cracked horribly. "I messed up."

　　Fear hit me instantly. "What happened?"

　　"I lost everything."

　　The words hit like ice water, and I stopped moving.

　　"The company… the loans…" His breathing turned uneven. "They're taking the house."

　　I stopped walking completely.

　　"What loans?"

　　"I mortgaged the house." My knees nearly buckled. "I thought I could fix it before your mother found out. She left."

　　Everything inside me went numb, and I don't know whether to scream or to lash out at my dad right now. What do you mean, I'm homeless in less than a minute?

　　But my mind had already gone frighteningly blank. I stepped off the curb without realizing it, and a horn blared violently.

　　Bright headlights rushed toward me—

　　Then, suddenly, strong arms slammed around my waist and yanked me backward hard against a solid chest just as a car sped past close enough for wind to whip through my hair.

　　My phone crashed onto the pavement.

　　"What the hell is wrong with you?"

　　I blinked upward in shock.

　　A man towered over me, his grip still tight. Dark hair, sharp jaw, and furious blue eyes. Dangerously beautiful.

　　"Are you trying to get yourself killed?" he demanded. "A breakup isn't worth a death wish," he muttered.

　　---

　　Present Day… [ Sterling & Vale Ltd]

　　"Vesper, baby, don't be like that."

　　I closed my eyes slowly. When I opened them again, Richard Bennett was unfortunately still standing in front of my desk with the unearned confidence of a billionaire's son.

　　"I already told you no."

　　"Oh, come on." He loosened his tie dramatically. "If you went out with me, maybe I'd reconsider pulling the campaign."

　　I stared at him in disbelief.

　　"You tanked your own project because I wouldn't sleep with you?"

　　"Tanked is a strong word."

　　"The sponsors dropped you, Richard."

　　Three months wasted trying to salvage the public image of a millionaire tech investor who spent more time touching my waist than following media strategy.

　　Now the campaign was dead, my reputation had taken a hit, and rent was due in five days.

　　Fantastic! My phone buzzed across the desk.

　　CALEB.

　　Thank God.

　　I answered immediately. "If you murdered someone, I can help hide the body."

　　My younger brother laughed. "There's my favorite emotionally unstable sister."

　　"Second favorite, the cat ranks higher."

　　"Fair enough, I missed you."

　　Despite everything, I smiled faintly and rolled my eyes.

　　"What do you want, Caleb?"

　　"I have a client for you. NHL big."

　　Now that sounded like money. I leaned back in my chair. "What did he do?"

　　"You want the short version or the horrifying version?"

　　"The horrifying one."

　　"He punched a paparazzi, got caught leaving a nightclub with two influencers during a charity event, and accidentally started gambling rumors."

　　I blinked slowly.

　　"…How do you accidentally start gambling rumors?"

　　"He may or may not have yelled 'double or nothing' while throwing cash at somebody."

　　I rubbed my forehead.

　　"Please tell me you're joking."

　　"I truly wish I were."

　　Despite myself, I laughed.

　　Caleb softened slightly. "Look, Ves… he needs image rehab before transfer season. Sponsors are nervous. Management's nervous."

　　"And you thought of me?"

　　"You're the best crisis manager I know."

　　Emotion tightened unexpectedly in my throat.

　　Caleb always did that. Believed in me even when I didn't.

　　I glanced at Richard, who was still hovering nearby like an expensive STD.

　　Maybe this was exactly the break I needed.

　　"How bad is the player?"

　　Caleb paused, then laughed nervously.

　　"He's kind of an asshole."

　　"Caleb, that is not reassuring," I warned him, and he chuckled at the other end

　　"But he listens to me sometimes!"

　　"That somehow makes it worse."

　　"Please take the case. I love you." He whined, and I could already see his face pouting like a kid.

　　I hesitated only a second longer because I needed the money badly.

　　"Fine," I muttered. "Send me the file."

　　"You're saving my life."

　　"No," I corrected dryly. "I'm saving your idiot teammate's career."

　　We hung up moments later.

　　Richard finally straightened from my desk. "You're really choosing work over me?"

　　"Yes," I said immediately.

　　His smile faded. "You'll change your mind."

　　"I'd genuinely rather file my taxes."

　　He left looking offended as I let out an exhale.

　　Peace at last.

　　The second the office door shut behind him, my laptop pinged with a new email from Caleb.

　　I opened the attached file while reaching for my coffee.

　　Then I saw the name.

　　Jaxon Laurent.

　　The coffee slipped from my fingers, spilling across my desk.

　　Laurent.

　　My heartbeat slowed painfully.