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Kendra Fairfax had just wrapped up an international video conference. She hadn’t even had time to breathe before a text alert popped up. “Your account made a payment at 7:27 p.m.: fifty million dollars. Type: overseas transfer. Recipient: Clarice Barrington. Note: ‘make it up.’ Current balance: five dollars and seven cents.” Kendra froze. Just a few days ago, the company had a funding gap. She’d wanted to use that card, but Rhysand Rowcliffe had stopped her, dead serious. Kendra stared at the card in her hand—the one they’d always called their wedding fund. “We’ve been putting money into this since the day we started dating,” Rhysand had told her once. “It means something. Unless we’re not getting married, we don’t touch a single cent.” She’d believed him. She’d honestly believed he was building a future with her. So why had he moved the money behind her back? And why was the memo line—“make it up to you”—addressed to Clarice? Clarice was nothing more than the Rowcliffe Group’s newest business partner, a single mother with a young child. Outside of work, they shouldn’t have had any reason to be in contact. Kendra didn’t care about the warning he’d given her before the trip: *Don’t call me.* She dialed him eleven times straight before he finally answered. “Rhysand, did you just transfer five hundred thousand dollars from the wedding account to Clarice? We promised we’d never touch that money. Why did you take it?!” The background noise on his end was deafening—voices, laughter, the unmistakable hum of a crowd. He was at some tourist destination. Rhysand hesitated for a long beat, as if trying to recall what she was talking about. Then he spoke. “Kendra, let’s push the wedding back. Clarice has a connection with a major international client who needs liquidity. The returns are strong. This is the right move.” Kendra’s chest seized. “But you said that money was ours—that it was untouchable. What client? I’ll handle the negotiations myself.” Rhysand had spent the past few days arguing with Clarice, and his patience was already threadbare. His voice dropped, cold and heavy. “That’s enough. You think you can just kick up a fuss and get whatever you want? What credentials do you even have? In those circles, what standing do you have to negotiate anything? Without the Rowcliffe Group giving you a platform, what value do you bring? This is about the company’s growth. It’s my money, and I’ll decide where it goes. We’re not even married yet—so why can’t you stop sticking your nose into everything?” Every sentence erased everything she’d done. Every word mocked the background she’d come from. For a moment, Kendra thought she must have misheard him. Then, through the receiver, a woman’s voice drifted in—close and deliberate, as if she wanted Kendra to catch every single word. “Rhysand, Kian wants ice cream. I can’t leave right now—could you go grab some…?” Rhysand must have covered the microphone. He spoke quickly, his tone softening as if trying to soothe someone. “Listen, I had too much to drink today. I’m worn out. The client’s still waiting for me to close the deal. Get some rest. Stop being irrational. Don’t read too much into things. Try to be a little more understanding.” Then he hung up. Kendra’s heart went ice-cold. After all these years, she finally saw Rhysand for what he truly was—a polished egotist who dressed emotional betrayal in the language of business strategy. Clarice had only needed to show up at the company and give a single presentation, and he’d praised her like he couldn’t contain himself. But when the Rowcliffe Group had teetered on the edge of bankruptcy more than once, it was Kendra who had sold her design copyrights to pay off the debt. For years, she’d worked around the clock, juggling creative direction and financial management. She’d landed in the hospital multiple times from sheer exhaustion. He treated every sacrifice she made as if it were the bare minimum—and because she’d always stayed behind the scenes, he even looked down on her for having no connections, no pedigree. What he didn’t know—what he’d never cared to find out—was that Kendra was the daughter of the Fairfax family from Calenbrook. The Fairfax family everyone chased after. The Fairfax family everyone revered. Back then, to prove her love, she’d broken free from her family’s control. She’d walked away from being a wealthy heiress. After graduating from college in Eldermist City, she’d stayed there with the so-called “clean and honest” Rhysand and built a life from the ground up, as an ordinary woman. She’d gambled her youth, all for a future with him. But the love she’d guarded so fiercely had never mattered to him at all. No… “make it up to you.” How long had those two been together? As if pulled by something she couldn’t resist, Kendra walked into Rhysand’s room. He’d insisted on sleeping in separate bedrooms all these years, always claiming, “Work and rest shouldn’t interfere with each other.” She opened his spare laptop. To her relief, the password was still her birthday. He’d once told her, “Kendra, I’ll never keep secrets from you.” She hesitated for a moment—then the computer automatically logged into Rhysand’s WhatsApp. His contact list was spotless. But the pinned conversation wasn’t a client group. It was a contact saved under “Beloved.” She clicked on the profile picture. A woman standing beneath the Eiffel Tower. It was Clarice. Clearly an alternate account. Kendra felt like she was losing her mind. She forced down the dizziness and, with trembling hands, pulled up Clarice’s social feed. The most recent post was from an hour ago: a selfie alongside a screenshot of a conversation. “A few days ago I was too willful and fought with my darling. So he had to use a necklace and fifty million dollars to show his sincerity. I’ll be a good girl and keep it safe for him～ Turns out the things some people spend their whole lives chasing… I can get with a reach of my hand. I’ve thought it through. This time, I’m going to stay by your side for real.” That necklace— It was the one Kendra had seen on Rhysand’s laptop last month, and he’d told her he was picking it for a client. In the chat screenshot, Rhysand’s avatar sent a message: “Clarice, I’m sorry. Back then I wasn’t strong enough, and I let the Barrington family tear us apart. I didn’t know you were already pregnant. Now I have the ability. I can’t bear to let you suffer. Give me a little time. I’ll settle Kendra as soon as possible and give us a future we can have openly.” Kendra’s eyes burned. He couldn’t bear to let her suffer? Then what was Kendra—who had suffered alongside him—supposed to be? The man who’d once saved her from the river with the kind of determination that felt like he’d die with her if he had to. The man who had nothing but still swore to stay with her for life. The man who’d understood her because he also refused to let family and fate arrange him— Was all of that fake? She scrolled further. Three days ago: Clarice posing with a three-year-old boy. Caption: “When you’re done being busy, my son and I will be waiting for you in Paris.” The posting time was the exact day Rhysand left on his business trip. They even had a child. The first time Clarice visited the company, Rhysand arranged long-term cooperation with her. To show thanks, Kendra had even warmly helped look after Clarice’s son—Kian. Now, thinking back, Kendra was nothing but a joke. She kept scrolling. Recent gifts. “Special moments.” Sweet daily life. A whole screen of Rhysand spoiling Clarice, proving that line everyone liked to say online—love is like raising a flower; a woman is nurtured well by her husband. And her? Rhysand had repeatedly mocked her for not being “feminine,” for being stiff and boring. She’d worked herself into chronic stomach problems for the Rowcliffe Group, and all she ever got back was him saying: “You’re so tough. A little suffering is nothing to you.” Every time she wanted to dress up, every time she asked him to buy her jewelry or clothes as an anniversary gift, he always said: “I don’t want other men to see you looking pretty. Better to put that money into the wedding fund card.” It had only ever been an excuse—an excuse not to spend effort on her. Kendra’s breathing turned sharp. She was so close to blacking out. “Women who suffer with a man—once he makes it, the first thing he does is throw you away.” She’d lived it. Maybe it didn’t even take success. Maybe he’d betrayed her halfway through. The Rowcliffe Group’s success—half of it was her blood and sweat. She wasn’t willing. And she would never hand it over. Back then, Rhysand had been handsome and upright, gentle yet unbreakable. In his barren world, he’d only had one chip to gamble—an ambitious, loyal heart. Even like that, she’d still fallen for him, for those bright eyes that looked clean and restrained, like stars. But now the chip was gone. And with it, there was no reason for her to keep going. After she forced herself to calm down, she called a number she hadn’t contacted in a long time. “Mom… you said back then… as long as I gave up Rhysand and accepted the family’s arranged marriage, you’d let me come home. Does that still count?” “Kendra?” The moment she heard her mother’s voice, all the grievance she’d swallowed for years surged up. She choked on her words. “Mom… I regret it.” She’d let her parents down. The other end stayed silent for a long time. Her mother sounded like she’d expected this all along. Putting interests first, she answered slowly. “This marriage was set by your grandfather back then. Since you’ve decided, you’ll get engaged to Vaughn next month. Pick a time to have a meal with the Sterling family and apologize. You’re an adult. You should understand this isn’t a game.” Chapter 2 Ready to Fight With one extra month handed to her, it was time to fight these people properly. With a single call to the partner company, Kendra unilaterally canceled a major project worth nearly one hundred million dollars—one that, if completed, would have sent the Rowcliffe Group’s valuation soaring again. She had her pride, too. She refused to keep being an idiot who gave and gave without a brain. The next day, Rhysand rushed back in a hurry. His fun had been cut short. Those deep eyes were forcing down anger as he shoved open the office door—and saw Kendra calmly sipping tea. “Why didn’t you answer your phone? The deal with Mr. Waverlyn is already settled. Your design draft is already halfway done. Why did you cancel the most important project on your own?” Thinking about how his little family of three’s happy trip overseas had been interrupted, Kendra almost wanted to laugh. She picked up the excuse he’d always used, tossed it out lightly. “Sorry. My phone died. I haven’t been feeling well lately. The workload is too heavy, and I don’t want to put that much pressure on myself.” Overnight, looking at the man in front of her—the man she’d watched grow from awkward and shy into mature and sharp—she felt an overwhelming unfamiliarity. So that was it. All those years she carried the weight forward, and he truly never cared. Sure enough, Rhysand ignored the second half of her sentence like always. His expression stayed ugly. Kendra smiled faintly and stabbed again. “Didn’t you close an even more profitable overseas project with Clarice yesterday? Why do you care about this one?” What overseas project? That money had probably already flowed straight into Clarice’s pocket. Rhysand’s body stiffened. He stared at her hard. Kendra’s face stayed calm. She didn’t dodge, didn’t flinch. The trace of infatuation and people-pleasing that used to live in her eyes was gone without a trace. He suddenly felt like something had changed. Kendra was definitely in a bad mood, so she was going against him on purpose. The words of blame rose to his lips—then he swallowed them. No one understood better than he did that the company still couldn’t function without Kendra. Her design talent and market instinct were one of a kind. Otherwise, the Rowcliffe Group’s value wouldn’t have climbed so fast. And the reason she was angry—Rhysand guessed it was because he’d touched the wedding fund last night. He’d been drunk. Under Clarice’s tears, he’d impulsively transferred it. Afterward, he couldn’t say he regretted it, but he did feel a bit guilty toward Kendra. His brows loosened slightly. His tone softened, and he sighed. “Silly girl. If you’re tired, then rest properly. Don’t push yourself. Your health comes first.” Just then, the office door was pushed open. Clarice walked in naturally, holding the hand of her three-year-old son, her tone intimate. “Kian wanted to come see Uncle Rhysand working. We’re not bothering you, are we?” Her words were polite. Her behavior wasn’t restrained at all. The moment Rhysand saw the child, the aura around him softened instantly. He was just about to reach out to hold him without thinking—when Kendra’s sentence froze him in place. “How could you be bothering us? Don’t be so formal. I really like Kian. I even thought about having him be the little flower boy when Rhys and I get married.” The word “married” made Clarice’s face change sharply. But she wasn’t weak. She quickly masked it and secretly tugged her son. The child immediately cooperated, shouting, “I don’t want to! Unless my mom marries Uncle Rhysand!” The air instantly solidified. Clarice forced out a helpless smile and tapped his nose. “Silly kid. You have to think about other people’s feelings before you speak. Don’t say outrageous things.” But Kendra didn’t get angry at all. Her smile didn’t fade. She spoke gently to the child. “Kian, your mom is right. You can’t say things like that. Uncle Rhysand and I have been together for four years. Everyone in the company knows about our relationship. You don’t want people saying your mom is a mistress, right?” Rhysand’s face sank. The atmosphere was wrong. He shot the child a glare. Kian immediately shut up, looking wronged. The smile on Clarice’s face stiffened for a moment. She’d just been set up. A mistress? Wasn’t Kendra the one who barged in? Rhysand glanced at her. “Clarice, you go out first.” Coldness spread through Clarice’s heart. But thinking about how, last night, Rhysand had even transferred the wedding money meant for him and Kendra to her as proof of loyalty, she swallowed it. With only the two of them left, Rhysand felt a faint unease. He took the initiative. “Kendra, it’s been a long time since we went out for a candlelight dinner. Let’s go tonight.” He could buy her a few gifts too. In his eyes, Kendra was easy to coax. He’d compensate her materially. In his eyes, Kendra had no family, no one else. He was her only support. She’d clung on all these years—wasn’t it for this? “Whatever you want, just say it. Money works too.” Kendra had expected it. She smiled. “I do. And there’s a lot.” She would take it back, piece by piece. So it really was for money. Rhysand had seen it coming, yet something complicated still rose in his chest. He couldn’t name the feeling. “Fine. Take care of your health first. Then properly finish the remaining work on the Lindsy Group project. Tonight I’ll take you out to clear your head.” At that moment, a text message popped up on Kendra’s phone: “Ms. Fairfax, hello. This is Ridge. Mr. Sterling has been informed of the Fairfax family’s marriage alliance intention and sincerely invites you to dinner tonight at Room A01 in the Twilight Plaza.” Kendra snapped her phone shut neatly and stood, ready to leave. Her voice was cold. “I’m meeting an important client tonight. If we close the deal, then I’ll consider handling the other things.” He assumed she was going to meet a client connected to the Rowcliffe Group. And since she didn’t bring up the wedding fund again, Rhysand finally let out a breath and didn’t ask further. “Okay. We’ll plan dinner another time. Work comes first.” “I won’t walk you out. Hope your talk goes smoothly.” Kendra’s gaze dimmed. He was willing to spend a few surface-level words, and then it was over. Even the chill she deliberately showed—he couldn’t be bothered to coax her for even a minute more. After Kendra left, Clarice walked back in. She still couldn’t let it go, emotions spilling out. “Rhys, when she just called me a mistress, do you know how awful that felt? When she twists right and wrong, you still weigh pros and cons before even saying one word for me. The scale of your feelings for Kendra is heavier than me, isn’t it?” Rhysand sighed and kissed her by the lips. “Don’t think nonsense. Since I promised to be responsible for you and Kian, I won’t marry her. A lot of the company’s key people were trained by her. If it gets too ugly, it’ll hurt the Rowcliffe Group’s reputation.” Clarice held back a breath. Tears fell instantly. “Do you know that for you and Kian, I didn’t even dare to accept my family’s arrangement… I didn’t walk with you through your hardest years like Kendra did, but I gave you a child. Isn’t that enough to prove how much I love you? Now you’re the boss. The Barrington family won’t stop us anymore.” She paused. “Can you really bear to let me down?” Hearing that, Rhysand couldn’t help being moved. Back in college, when he had nothing, it was Clarice who silently sponsored him under a false name, protected his fragile pride, and even secretly slipped him letters to warm him. She would always be the goddess in his heart. That would never change. “I will never let you down.” He pulled the woman into his arms and promised, “Just give me a little more time. Once Kendra helps the Rowcliffe Group lock down the last big project with the Lindsy Group, once the Rowcliffe Group’s market value is completely stable and we squeeze into the Calenbrook circle, I’ll break up with her immediately and marry you.” Clarice gradually calmed down. At the same time, she knew clearly— If she pushed him too hard, she might shove him right back to Kendra, and that would be a loss. She could only endure it. ****** Twilight Plaza. The window seat overlooked the full blaze of Eldermist City’s lights. The man sat in the dim, warm glow like a statue meticulously carved by time. A deep gray suit hugged his frame. Every crease sat exactly right, outlining his shoulders and back. The perfectly tailored cuff revealed a strip of cool, pale wrist. Long, beautiful lashes cast a small shadow under his eyes. Only when footsteps drew near did he lazily lift his gaze. Behind gold-rimmed glasses, those phoenix eyes were aggressively striking. The corners tilted slightly upward, the pupils deep as the sea on a winter night. When his gaze landed on someone, there was a faint, lingering scrutiny—like he could see through everything with ease, yet couldn’t be bothered to call it out. Soft jazz flowed through the restaurant. His long fingers tapped the menu absentmindedly. His presence was powerful, but not deliberately cold—just the natural pressure of someone who’d sat at the top for too long. Kendra had deliberately changed into a champagne-colored silk gown. For years, Rhysand had belittled her, saying she looked too corporate, not feminine enough. She’d almost forgotten what she used to look like. Now, with light makeup and her hair pinned up, her pale, slender swan neck exposed, her eyes moving with quiet grace—she actually found a trace of that Calenbrook socialite version of herself again. “Mr. Sterling, Ms. Fairfax is here.” Chapter 3 Announce the Engagement “Long time no see.” The curve of Vaughn Sterling’s lips was shallow. There was a hint of a smile, but none of it reached his eyes. His voice was low, heavy. Kendra froze for a beat. “We… have we met before?” Of course she recognized him—who in Calenbrook didn’t know the Sterling family’s heir, the number-one successor to a hundred-billion-dollar empire? His ability and looks were both top-tier. More importantly, rumor said he was cold, untouchable, not interested in women. Whether at work or in life, it was always other people orbiting him. But whether he recognized her… she truly didn’t know. His gaze stayed on her face for a long time, so direct it made her uneasy. Those deep, striking eyes looked like they could see straight through her. Her heart missed a beat. She didn’t dare meet his stare. Why was he staring at her like that… Did she have something on her face? He didn’t answer. He only slowly pushed a dark red velvet box toward her. “This is…?” The texture of the box already announced how extraordinary what was inside would be. A ring? A gift? She flipped the lid open. A huge pigeon-egg size diamond lay inside, set with a blue-green tone that caught the light. After all these years together, Rhysand had never given her a ring. And this man—one move, and it was a priceless treasure. Kendra went still. Vaughn propped his chin with one hand, lazy and unbothered. His eyes drifted over her face for a moment, then his brow drew together slightly. “Don’t like it?” Only then did she come back to herself. She lifted her head and met the gaze that had been fixed on her all along. “Thank you, Mr. Sterling. How did you know… I like this color?” That blue-green pattern by the band was a shade she loved—rare on the market. She was a designer. She knew how hard it was to blend something that precise. He lowered his eyes. Long lashes cast a faint shadow beneath them. His fingers stirred his coffee with careless ease. “Picked it at random.” Was it really just a coincidence? Kendra was still thinking, but there was no reason for him to lie to her. Just as she started studying him instead, he smoothly switched topics, looking away with a cold snort. “Back when the Sterling and Fairfax families were closest, I heard you refused the marriage alliance.” She answered immediately. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think things through back then.” So many years had passed, and he still hadn’t found someone else? If she’d known it would come to this, she would rather have chosen a marriage with no love but equal status than gamble everything on some empty, floating thing called love. She promised, “After I return to the Fairfax family, I’ll take over the business. I’m confident I can make both families win. After we’re married, I won’t interfere with anything my husband does—as long as it isn’t dragged into the spotlight.” Meaning: whatever he did outside, she wouldn’t ask. After what she’d seen from Rhysand, she no longer expected loyalty from men. Ordinary men were already like that—let alone someone like him, a Calenbrook powerhouse with endless options. “But why did you agree to this marriage again?” That was what she wanted to know most. With Vaughn’s conditions, why would he hang himself on the same tree that once rejected him? It couldn’t possibly be what she was thinking… could it? Vaughn listened quietly. Then, as if he’d seen through her thoughts, he calmly broke eye contact. His voice turned colder. “Hartley once saved my life. He also hinted at a marriage. Now I’m at the age where I should settle down. Don’t worry. I’ll fulfill a husband’s responsibilities.” His tone dipped, like he disliked what she’d implied earlier. He spoke slowly. “As for affairs outside the marriage, you’re overthinking it.” Kendra pressed her lips together. When she was little, Grandpa really had brought back a cool, quiet teenage boy to stay at the Fairfax house for a while. She’d secretly looked at him a few times. As for whether he’d noticed her, she didn’t know. Only after he left did she find out he was from the Sterling family. “So I’m just a suitable choice? Plus Grandpa’s favor to you?” He stared at her in silence, as if accepting it. A loveless but beneficial marriage—yes. That fit a man like him. Kendra gave a light nod. She couldn’t help recalling that when she used to live in Calenbrook, the media claimed he had a first love he could never get. Now it seemed Vaughn had probably already grown indifferent to feelings. So it didn’t matter. In that way, they were similar. One step at a time. The urgent thing was earning her parents’ forgiveness and returning to the Fairfax family. “Next month, I’ll have the Calenbrook media announce the engagement.” “Next month?” When his eyes tipped up at the corners, his expression looked half-smile, half-not. “If you want, we can do it now.” He had originally wanted to give her time to clean up the trashy people and trashy messes around her. But now that the marriage was set and she was bound to him, there was no need to rush. She shook her head quickly. “No. Next month is perfect.” The atmosphere through dinner was fine. He looked cold on the surface, but his words were restrained and polite. Of course, first meetings were always courteous. As for whether he’d be easy to deal with later—that was another story. Men changed too easily, Kendra thought. When they parted, the man gave his assistant a look and got into the car first. Ridge understood at once and stepped forward with a slight bow. “Ms. Fairfax, I’ll take you.” “No need. I can go myself.” He’d come all the way from Calenbrook and taken the initiative to meet her. She was already grateful. How could she keep bothering him? Ridge opened the door, his smile unchanged. “Mr. Sterling has never had the habit of letting a female companion go back alone. Please understand.” Before the words even finished, the window slid down, revealing a handsome side profile. His gaze was steady, leaving no room for refusal. “Get in.” Under his stare, Kendra couldn’t help but sit inside. The entire ride, not a word. The silence was oddly heavy. She watched the night lights flowing past the window and gently closed her eyes to rest. Suddenly, his deep voice sounded—one line, out of nowhere. “It’s not every woman I’ll drive home.” The driver instinctively glanced at the rearview mirror. Kendra froze and turned to look. His long fingers rested lightly on his knee. His side profile was sharp and cold, eyes aimed out the window. No expression. Just cold. Was it her imagination? She actually thought he seemed a little… Proudly awkward? A second later, she realized he was explaining what Ridge had said. If you didn’t think too hard about it, you really would assume he’d had plenty of female companions. She hadn’t meant anything by it. But a man of his status, about to get married—explaining because he cared about reputation was natural. Nothing else, right? “I understand,” she answered softly. The car fell quiet again. When she got out, Ridge said politely, “Take care, Ms. Fairfax.” Outside the Rowcliffe Group. Kendra had assumed Rhysand was already asleep, but she saw him standing alone on the second-floor balcony. When he saw her step down from a luxury car with a plate of matching numbers “888” . His gaze was already tightly caught by that slender figure. When he finally saw her face—stunning, impossible to ignore—something like amazement flashed through Rhysand’s eyes. He almost thought he’d seen wrong— This was Kendra. The woman he had never bothered to truly look at. “Kendra, why are you back so late?” The moment she stepped into the living room, he hurried down from upstairs, chasing the answer. Kendra kept taking off her heels, her expression cold. “It’s way earlier than usual.” He had never waited for her this late—so how would he even know what time she usually came home? Rhysand fell silent for a moment, his eyes still lingering on her face. “What client were you seeing? Did you need to dress like that?” “A friend. We talked for a bit.” Catching her indifference, irritation rose in his chest for no clear reason. That car’s plate was special. Since when did she know someone like that in Eldermist City? “Male or female?” “You seem especially concerned about me today, Rhysand.” She straightened and looked him dead in the eye. “You were never like this before.” Something complicated flickered across his face. His tone softened. “Kendra, I was too busy before. I didn’t take care of you. I’m just asking now.” Tonight was supposed to be their candlelight dinner. And he didn’t even understand why—when he came home and couldn’t find her, he still insisted on waiting. Chapter 4 Testing His Mother’s Attitude Rhysand pulled out a velvet box he’d clearly prepared in advance. Inside was a pink tassel dress with an overly complicated design. Kendra only needed one glance. Exhausted, she said, “I don’t like this color. Take it back.” After all this time together, he still didn’t even know she hated loud, flashy colors—or what kind of clothes filled most of her closet. How ridiculous. This dress looked like something Clarice would like. Like he’d decided ‘women all like to dress like this.’ Even Vaughn—someone she’d only met once—could hit her taste perfectly. But Rhysand couldn’t. It was like fate kept picking the worst moments to remind her what ‘meant to meet but not meant to be’ really looked like. Rhysand frowned, studying her face, trying to tell if she truly disliked it or if she was just sulking. In the past, even if he gave her some cheap little gift, she’d light up like a kid and treasure it like it was priceless. Whatever. If Kendra was making a fuss, it was probably just to get his attention—wanting him to pamper her more. Women were all like that. “It’s fine,” he said. “Your birthday’s in a few days anyway. We’ll make up tonight’s candlelight dinner then. What do you want for your gift?” Since he asked, Kendra didn’t hold back. “No gift,” she said. “But since you spent the money on the wedding without asking me, it’s not too much for me to want a house as payback, right?” Back then, she’d gone with his mother to pick that house. Its market value was staggering, and the location was one of the best in Eldermist City. More importantly, it was close to Calenbrook—only a little over ten minutes by car. If she ever needed to go back and forth to Calenbrook to handle private matters, having a temporary place to stay would make everything easier. And it would let her slip out of Rhysand’s line of sight for a little peace. Rhysand froze, then frowned. “But Mom lives there right now. I can’t exactly make her move into the neighbor’s place.” Kendra’s tone stayed calm, but she didn’t budge. “You can bring her here for a few days. Then find her a new place downtown and move her there.” Rhysand still hesitated. Kendra’s expression turned cold in an instant. “Forget it if you don’t want to.” She’d actually had the nerve to still carry a sliver of hope—like he might really make it up to her. Catching the chill in her eyes, Rhysand’s heart tightened. He blurted out, “Fine, fine, fine. I’ll agree.” This time, Kendra was the one surprised. She hadn’t expected him to actually say yes. Seeing her expression ease, Rhysand quietly exhaled. When Kendra was unhappy, his mood got dragged down with her. After all these years, how could there be no feelings? Then another thought hit him. Bringing his mother over might not be a bad thing. It would be the perfect chance to test her attitude toward Clarice. Let Clarice come around the house more, ease the tension—after all, his mother was fairly satisfied with Kendra, and back then, she hadn’t liked Clarice much at all. Kendra returned to her room and looked at the diamond ring Vaughn had given her. It was genuinely beautiful. She put it on—somehow it fit perfectly, making her fingers look even prettier. A few days later. Kendra drove back from shopping. Passing by the company, she ‘ran into’ Clarice downstairs. Before Kendra even got close, she accidentally overheard Clarice on the phone, her voice soft as she complained to whoever was on the other end. “Rhys, do you have to be busy tomorrow too? You promised you’d have dinner with us today. Me and our son have been waiting forever. He just wants his dad to spend more time with him…” These past few days, Kendra had deliberately taken time off, claiming she wasn’t feeling well. The piled-up work at the Rowcliffe Group had Rhysand so busy he couldn’t spare a moment. Beside Clarice, Kian tugged at his mother’s skirt, aggrieved. “Mom, I’m hungry, I’m hungry! Tonight let’s go eat at Dad’s house! Make that old Auntie Fairfax cook for us! That way I get Dad with me, and I get food too!” Mother and son—acting like they belonged there. The next second, Kendra’s phone rang in her car. Rhysand said, “Kendra, I promised Clarice I’d talk a project with her today, but I’ve been too busy and made them wait for nothing. I feel bad, so I’m inviting them to our place for dinner. Go get things ready, and make Mom’s portion too, okay? Be good.” “Kian is picky. He won’t eat fish, and he won’t eat cilantro, so make the dishes a little more plentiful. And for Clarice, it’d be best to let her choose—” Kendra shoved down the disgust churning in her chest and hung up without expression. “Mm, say that again, my signal’s kinda bad here—hello? hello?” “Beep beep beep.” They both knew that today, Rhysand’s mother, Hester, was moving in to stay. For him to invite Clarice at a moment like this—his intention to test things couldn’t have been more obvious. He actually dared to be this blatant. Fine. Kendra’s lips curved into a mocking smile. She might as well go along with it and see how this little show played out. The Rowcliffe Estate. Hester sat upright in the living room, her sharp gaze sweeping over the servants hurrying back and forth. “Good evening, ma’am.” “Where’s Rhysand?” The butler answered respectfully, “Mr. Rowcliffe… is tied up with work and can’t come back for the moment. He instructed Ms. Fairfax to properly host you when she returns.” When Hester saw Kendra walk in, the severity on her face finally softened a little. “Kendra, come sit.” Kendra sat down as told. Hester was a strong-willed woman, but she treated Kendra fairly well. She didn’t approve of Kendra’s background, yet for a daughter-in-law who was easy to control and whose whole world revolved around her son’s future, a mother-in-law usually wouldn’t hate her. At least, she acknowledged Kendra’s effort. “What have you been busy with lately? And you and Rhys’s marriage—when exactly is it happening?” Kendra told the truth. “He’s been busy negotiating with several big clients. He said the wedding will be postponed for a while.” Hester looked thoughtful. “It should be done sooner rather than later. You’re an honest kid. Before you’re even officially in the family, you’re already completely devoted to him, giving him everything. If we don’t lock it down, I’m afraid another family will snatch you away.” Kendra only gave a sarcastic smile. If she got ‘snatched away,’ it would be because her son allowed it. Just then, Clarice’s figure appeared at the Rowcliffe family’s doorway. “Hello, Mrs. Rowcliffe,” she greeted with a gentle smile. “Mr. Rowcliffe and I are work friends. He invited me over to sit for a while.” The instant Hester saw Clarice, her pupils tightened, like she couldn’t believe her eyes. Her gaze sharpened immediately, making no effort to hide her surprise and displeasure. Kendra didn’t miss the clear flash of disgust on Hester’s face. She took in the subtle undercurrent between them, seeing through it without saying a word. She rose at the right moment, slipping into the role of the virtuous lady of the house. “You chat,” she said. “I’ll go prepare dinner.” In reality, she hadn’t even bought much food—Rhysand’s invitation hadn’t gone through her. “Go on,” Hester said. When Hester looked at Kendra, her eyes were noticeably gentler. That tiny shift in attitude already made it clear where her bias lay. Only Clarice and her son were left in the living room with Hester. “Didn’t you refuse to marry Rhys no matter what back then?” Hester went straight for the throat, her voice cold and hard. “So what are you doing back now? Your Barrington family looked down on my son. And our Rowcliffe family might not think much of you either.” She said the Barrington family looked down on him—but Clarice was an illegitimate daughter. How much weight could she possibly carry in the Barrington family? In Hester’s eyes, it was obvious: Clarice had simply gotten bored, found an excuse, and dumped her son. Hester never believed Clarice had been that sincere with him. And as for her character—fake, calculating, nothing like Kendra’s obedient sense. Back then, when Clarice left on her own, Hester had actually felt relieved. Clarice forced her smile to hold. “Mrs. Rowcliffe, you misunderstood. All these years, I’ve always loved Rhysand. Otherwise… I wouldn’t have given birth to Kian.” Older and sharper, Hester’s eyes stayed indifferent. She lightly glanced at the child. “Whether he’s a Rowcliffe by blood,” she said coolly, “that’s hard to say.” Clarice’s face changed instantly. She stood up. “Mrs. Rowcliffe, what do you mean by that?!” Chapter 5 Kendra Pulls Out of the Deal Kian pouted, then ducked into Clarice’s arms, sounding utterly wronged. “Mom, I don’t want this old lady… she’s too scary.” Clarice patted his back gently to soothe him, then lifted her head. “Mrs. Rowcliffe, how can you say that? Back then, under the pressure from you and the Barrington family, I was forced to separate from Rhys. That proves the choice wasn’t mine. Kian only came looking for his dad because he’s grown up and misses him. Look at his eyes and brows—doesn’t he look like Rhys?” Hester leaned back and let out a vague, unreadable chuckle, not buying a single word. “Looks like him? Kids haven’t grown into their features yet. They look a little like anyone. I’ve lived most of my life—young people’s little schemes are obvious to me. You, Clarice, could do something that crazy back then. Now, for whatever goal you have, it’s not impossible for you to make up a new story.” If it was one hundred percent Rowcliffe blood, she’d consider it. Those words stabbed straight into Clarice. Panic crept in. Her voice sharpened. “You’re insulting my character! If you don’t believe me, then take Kian for a paternity test!” Hester’s gaze turned icy, her warning clear. “You’d better not be lying. Before the paternity test results come out, the Rowcliffe family’s door won’t be opened to you. Rowcliffe Group has only just secured its standing in Eldermist City. Kendra and Rhysand’s wedding date is coming up, too. You suddenly show up now—either you want to use the Rowcliffe family’s current power to polish the image of an illegitimate child, or you’re here purely to get revenge on the Rowcliffe family.” What a cunning old fox—sharp and forceful. Clarice’s face looked terrible. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a shadow at the doorway. In the next second, she dropped to her knees, clutching her son. “Don’t cry, don’t cry. It’s Mom’s fault for not being capable enough to get you recognized. All these years, no dad and no grandma…” “Mom! What are you doing?” Rhysand had just finished at the office and rushed back, dusty with fatigue, coming home specifically to help handle the family situation. Instead, he walked into his mother’s oppressive presence—and Clarice and her son kneeling on the floor. A sudden ache throbbed in his head. He hurried forward and helped them both up. Clarice still loved putting on a show, just like back then. Hester stared at her useless, foolish son and felt both furious and heartbroken. “I’ll say it again. Without a paternity test, I won’t allow you to be with my son.” Disappointment filled Rhysand’s eyes. “Mom, why are you still as stubborn as you were back then, still unable to trust Clarice?” The more he spoke, the more worked up he got. Hester lifted her chin, indicating the kitchen. The words Rhysand was about to say froze in his throat. Kendra was still inside. He had to rein it in. “Mom, my business with Clarice—don’t meddle so much. As for Kendra, she loves me so much. It’s only right that she gives up the position of Mrs. Rowcliffe. I have to take responsibility for Clarice.” “If I don’t, then wouldn’t I be an ungrateful man?” In Rhysand’s arms, Clarice trembled even harder. “Don’t worry, Auntie. In a few days, I’ll have Rhys bring you the paternity test results.” The anger in Rhysand’s chest burned hotter. He couldn’t understand why everyone had to target him and Clarice. His eyes turned unwavering. “Even if Kian isn’t my son, I’ll still marry Clarice. I’ve already let too many things down. I can’t let her down again.” He could say that only because Rhysand was one hundred percent sure Kian was his son. His kind Clarice would never lie to him. Not long after, Kendra came out, pretending she didn’t know what had happened outside, smiling as if everything was fine. “Mom, you must be hungry. Come eat.” Rhysand’s expression eased a little. Seeing Kendra’s gentle, virtuous look, a strange flicker of guilt suddenly rose in him. What was that? Catching Rhysand’s distraction, where Kendra couldn’t see, Clarice secretly tugged his clothes. Rhysand turned back and met her eyes, damp with waterlight. He pulled his attention away from Kendra and spoke softly to the mother and son. “Come on. Listen to me. Stay and eat first. Don’t let yourselves go hungry.” The moment they sat down, Kendra started eating on her own. When Rhysand went to serve rice, he realized there wasn’t nearly enough. More precisely, there wasn’t enough for the extra two people—for Clarice and her son. His face darkened instantly. The little guilt he’d felt toward Kendra vanished without a trace. “What’s going on? Didn’t I tell you Clarice and Kian were coming over today? You couldn’t even make a little more food?” Kendra replied blandly, “You only told me to wait for you to come home to eat. You didn’t tell me how many people to prepare for. There was only enough food in the house for this much.” Sensing the tension, Clarice immediately seized the opening. “Mr. Rowcliffe, don’t blame Kendra. Maybe she’s not feeling well and doesn’t have the energy. Let Kian eat first. I’ll be fine going hungry for one meal.” Kian immediately shouted, “Mom, I’m hungry! I want food!” Rhysand watched Clarice’s ‘making-do’ act with cold eyes. It wasn’t easy for her, bringing a child along. His mother had just made things difficult for her, and now Kendra was being inconsiderate too. These past few days at the company, he’d been dealing with the mess Kendra dumped on him, exhausted and overwhelmed. Now he came home and had to face this. “Kendra, making two more dishes isn’t hard. This is so rude. I know you best—you shouldn’t be like this.” Guided by Clarice’s look, Kian quietly slipped over to Hester’s side and whispered, “Grandma, I’m hungry…” Hester, who had been watching coldly the entire time, frowned slightly. That word—“Grandma”—seemed to stir something in her. Looking at Kian’s little face, his features resembled Clarice more, but faintly, there was also a shadow of Rhysand. What if he really was Rowcliffe blood… After wavering again and again, she didn’t speak to stop her son, and she didn’t speak up for Kendra either—as if silently approving his behavior. Kendra watched it all, and her heart went completely cold. This whole family… they were all the same. She slowly set her fork down. When she lifted her head, her eyes were clear. “Rhysand.” Her voice wasn’t loud. “Do you remember what day it is today?” Rhysand froze. His anger was cut off midstream, confusion flashing across his face. “Four years ago today, I officially took over Rowcliffe Group’s finance department and pulled you back from the edge of bankruptcy. And coincidentally, on this day last year, you officially proposed to me. You said that every year on this date, you’d personally cook me a meal to thank me for choosing you.” “But I didn’t get it a single time. And today, what I got was you bringing another woman into our home and blaming me for not making enough food.” She paused, her gaze sweeping over Clarice’s slightly changing expression and Hester’s complicated eyes. “Looks like you really forgot. Maybe I’m the ‘inconsiderate’ one ruining the mood. I’ll leave first. Enjoy your meal.” With that, she ignored Rhysand’s stunned stare, turned around, and walked away—her back rigid with finality. He never expected it. Kendra usually never argued with him, never made him lose face—especially not with Hester present. Yet she didn’t spare him any face at all. Hester’s expression turned black. She looked at everyone with disgust. “Argue, argue, argue. A perfectly good family—and you just have to argue it apart!” Clarice bit her lip and tugged her son, turning to leave. “I’m sorry. It’s all my fault. I brought trouble to your family.” Rhysand frowned. “What do you mean, your family? Clearly we…” Before he could finish, Clarice ran out. Rhysand’s headache spiked. He wanted to chase after her, but his phone rang. His secretary’s voice came through. “Mr. Rowcliffe, Mr. Sinclair just received an email from Ms. Fairfax saying she’s withdrawing from the new energy project. Now he’s going to pull his investment from Rowcliffe Group. What should we do?” Chapter 6 Back to the Fairfax Family Rhysand shot to his feet, his face stamped with disbelief. "First, figure out a way to keep him steady. Tell him Kendra’s been too exhausted lately and needs a few days of rest. After that, she’ll definitely give a clear answer. Tell him he absolutely can’t give up on Rowcliffe Group." He didn’t have the bandwidth to chase after Clarice. In a panic, the first thing he did was call Kendra, needing an explanation. But all he got was the icy automated message: the phone was powered off. A nameless rage surged up instantly, tangling his nerves into a mess. He couldn’t understand it. A woman who’d always been so considerate—how had she suddenly become this dramatic? He refused to believe it. Kendra had no parents, just a farm girl. Leaving him, leaving Eldermist City—what better place could she possibly have to go? Once that thought settled, Rhysand finally felt a little more at ease. He decided on the spot to go soothe Clarice first. A woman like Kendra could never be indulged too much. Give her too many outs, and she’d forget the years they’d shared hardship together—and end up climbing right on top of him. Meanwhile, in Calenbrook. Kendra was sitting in a car heading back to the Fairfax House. She no longer had the slightest interest in anything to do with Rowcliffe Group. Her phone had been set to Do Not Disturb a long time ago. As she entered the area where the Fairfax family lived again, her expression went slightly dazed. It wasn’t like she’d never snuck back to see her parents before. But every time, she only dared to look from far away, never daring to get close. Back then, she’d broken off her engagement for Rhysand, making it a public spectacle. She truly had no face to meet her family. Kendra had already come to terms with Vaughn. Her parents couldn't hold that against her anymore—could they? The Sterlings should feel the same way. The moment Bram, the butler, spotted Kendra, he froze mid-step. Then the shock on his face melted into something closer to joy. "Miss, you've come home!" Kendra offered a slight nod, but her gaze had already drifted past him—to the two familiar figures stepping out through the front gate. Her aunt, Beatrice Fairfax. And her cousin, Elara Barrington. The moment they saw Kendra, the same startled expression flickered across both their faces. "Kendra?" She'd never been fond of either of them. Aside from her parents, there wasn't a single soul in that family she could truly call close. Beatrice drew her coat tighter, studying Kendra with a strange, calculating look. "So you've decided to crawl back? Back then, you turned down a perfectly good match with the Sterling family—all for some nobody from Eldermist City. After that, the Fairfax family didn't dare lift a finger in business with the Sterlings. We were terrified we'd end up as collateral damage. And from what I hear, the Sterlings are even more untouchable now. They practically run Calenbrook." Elara covered her mouth as she laughed, her voice soaked in undisguised schadenfreude. She'd once been insanely jealous of what she called Kendra's "luck." Now, nothing but satisfaction remained. "Exactly. Even if the Fairfax family swallowed every ounce of pride and went crawling back to apologize, they probably wouldn't give us the time of day. So what's your plan now that you're back? Spend every waking moment dodging the Sterlings? Because if you so much as irritate that temperamental crown prince…" Vaughn. The heir to Calenbrook's most powerful family. Gorgeous, obscenely wealthy—the fantasy of countless women, and Elara was no exception. When she'd first learned Kendra had refused the arranged marriage, she'd nearly exhaled with relief. "Oh, and word from Eldermist City is that Clarice—the illegitimate daughter from my uncle's side—took off to get back together with that CEO of Sterling Group." She'd tacked that on deliberately, intending to rub it in: Kendra couldn't even measure up to an illegitimate child. Kendra went still. She hadn't known Clarice was actually her uncle's hidden illegitimate daughter. She caught Elara's double meaning loud and clear: first, mocking her for falling lower than a bastard child; second, gloating that now she was back in Calenbrook, the Sterlings would crush her so thoroughly she probably wouldn't even qualify to attend a single event. In this city, what banquet, what gala, wasn't tied to Sterling assets or Sterling sponsorship? Kendra let out a quiet laugh. She hadn't come home to swallow anyone's contempt. "If I'v...

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