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Their wedding night. Adrienne Wenther found a pair of lace panties—pearl-trimmed—in the pocket of her groom’s tux. Without a flicker of expression, she slid them back where they’d been. Alistair Wenther stepped out of the bathroom with nothing but a white towel around his waist. Those dark, deep, slanted almond eyes of his were packed with desire for her. He walked to the bed and dropped to one knee at the edge, inching closer and closer. “Adrienne , I want…” A scorching palm branded itself onto Adrienne’s smooth, fair calf. Her eyes turned blood-red. This man. The one she’d loved since she was sixteen. The one who’d walked with her through her family’s upheaval, through storm after storm. The kind of man who, for her, would stab a bleeding hole into his own chest. But he… Cheated. A cheating man was like a toothbrush used to scrub a toilet. Filthy. The instant his hand was about to slide up to her thigh, Adrienne trembling all over, slammed her hand down on his, stopping him through the sexy, scarlet nightgown she wore. Lost in it, Alistair snapped his gaze up. Wildfire blazed in his eyes. “Adrienne, what is it? Are you nervous? Don’t worry. Our first time—I’ll be gentle.” He was about to rise and kiss her. His strong, masculine scent surged over her, but all Adrienne felt was disgust. Her stomach churned. She couldn’t accept it. So she clapped a hand over Alistair’s mouth and asked him, “Alistair, do you love me?” Alistair smiled faintly. He took her fingers, brought them to his lips, and kissed them again and again. “Is this newlywed anxiety? Tell me—do I love you or not? If I didn’t love you, would I have given you a grand wedding? If I didn’t love you, would I marry you? Silly girl. Tonight I’ll make you feel just how much I love you, Adrienne.” The lust in his eyes was nearly spilling out. It didn’t look fake. For a second, Adrienne wavered. Could those panties really be a misunderstanding? Maybe one of Alistair’s admirers did it on purpose. If she took it seriously, wouldn’t she be giving those people exactly what they wanted? Adrienne thought she should find out the truth instead of convicting Alistair over a pair of panties with no explanation. But before she figured it out, she didn’t want to sleep with him. “Alistair, I’m not ready.” She wrapped herself firmly in the blanket. She watched Alistair’s desire slowly turn into something pitiful. “Adrienne.” Adrienne didn’t budge. “The wedding was exhausting.” Alistair narrowed his eyes, his gaze dropping to her mouth, unreadable. “Adrienne.” Adrienne held her ground. Alistair’s interst faded compeltely, but he still chose to respect her. “Fine. Sleep.” Half an hour later. Alistair shifted to the side. “Adrienne?” Adrienne didn’t respond. She seemed sound asleep. Alistair picked up his phone and glanced at it. Then, moving lightly, he slipped out of the bridal suite he shared with Adrienne. The moment the door opened, Adrienne opened her eyes. She pulled on a coat and walked out slowly. In the hotel parking lot, she stood under a magnolia tree. She watched, eyes wide open, as Alistair pulled open the door of a silver Mercedes not far away. Through the crack, she saw Brielle’s face. Alistair’s childhood sweetheart. Three years ago, she’d run off in a fit of anger and married far away. Now she was in the cooling-off period before a divorce. Not long after, the window crack closed. Only the car rocked and rocked. Adrienne clenched her fists so hard her nails bit into her palms, drawing thin threads of blood. Disappointment made her whole body shake. Her heart felt like it seared in boiling oil, then steeped in brine--shrunken and wretched. She used to think that even if every man on earth cheated, her Alistair never would. Throughout their relationship,Adrienne had always felt utterly secure. He introduced her to all his friends. He personally shut down every ambiguous connection. When she was on her period, he’d brave the biting wind to bring her a steaming cup of ginger brown sugar water. He’d supported every decision she made without hesitation… But now. Everything was a joke. Adrienne closed her eyes. Her throat choked violently. She thought she should rip their affair open, then get a divorce. She was the kind of person who could walk away clean. But… But she’d stepped back from being the company’s second-in-command to work behind the scenes. Even her dividend shares were in a joint account with Alistair. If she divorced now, not only would she get no money—she would still be bled dry by the Wenther family. Then what about her mom? What about her grandma? The trust she’d given back then, Had turned into a sharp blade aimed at her. A rip opened in Adrienne’s heart, stuffed full of cold wind. It hurt and swelled, and she couldn’t do anything about it. She was freezing. She tightened her coat. Then she turned around and walked forward step by step, like a puppet on strings. When she came back to herself, she realized she was standing at the hotel bar. She ordered two glasses of her favorite liquor. As if alcohol could numb the heart of a woman whose husband cheated on her on their wedding night. She didn’t know how long passed when, all of a sudden, the entire hotel dropped into pitch-black darkness. Someone shoved Adrienne. She nearly lost her footing. To avoid crashing into anyone, and without her phone on her, she carefully felt along the wall and inched forward. Out of nowhere, A hand reached from the darkness. It clamped around Adrienne’s wrist. The next second, Her body spun, and her back slammed into a door. The sudden impact shook the tears already pooled in her eyes loose. The force pinned her against the icy wooden door, and a man’s burning-hot chest pressed up immediately after. Trapping her in the narrow space between the door and his body. He came at her aggressively. In the dark, she widened her eyes, trying to see the man who dared to confine her like this. One large hand locked onto her waist. The other lifted her chin. His domineering kiss fell. The sensation was like a feather and like a tongue of fire, making her whole body shudder hard. Adrienne instinctively reached up to push at his chest, but what she touched was hard muscle—still scalding through the fabric. His temperature was too high. Even through their clothes, it kept pouring into her, melting her calm, rational thoughts bit by bit. Like some kind of dangerous countdown. Just as they reached the final line of defense, “Who are you?” Adrienne asked, trembling. A deep, heavy voice sounded right by her ear. “Remember my name. Eamon Wenther. I will marry you.” Eamon. Eamon Wenther. How could it be Eamon Wenther! A man she couldn’t afford to provoke! Chapter 2 Mr. Wenther, We Found Last Night’s Girl In a single heartbeat, Adrienne’s awareness rushed back into her body. She summoned every ounce of strength she had and shoved the man away. Eamon was Sterling Wenther’s youngest son—and Alistair’s uncle. Alistair’s father had married into the Wenther family, so Alistair carried his mother’s last name. And Eamon? He was Riverdale’s most notorious golden boy. The kind of man socialites lined up for—from downtown Riverdale all the way to Austria—just for a shot at marrying into his world. Unfairly handsome. Unreasonably capable. Frighteningly sharp. And utterly ruthless once he set his sights on something. Adrienne didn’t dare cry. In the darkness, she bolted from the room. Stumbling down the hallway, she searched silently for the bridal suite. Tears streaked her face in tangled lines. What kind of nightmare was this? On her wedding night, she had discovered her husband was cheating with his first love. And she had nearly fallen into another man’s bed. She was running too fast. She didn’t notice, there in the dark, that a pair of eyes tracked her every move—fixed on her, burning with jealousy and hatred. Once she was back in her room, Adrienne felt almost… relieved. Brielle had clung to Alistair, buying Adrienne a stretch of time to pull herself together. She sank her entire body into the bathtub. Scrubbing, she washed away every trace left on her skin. Her mind was a tangled mess. So she submerged herself completely, using the breathless stillness to shock herself back to reality. ****** Dawn bled in softly, morning light staining the city gold as it spilled through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Alistair slipped back into the room as quietly as he could. He’d thought Adrienne would still be asleep. But she was already dressed in a fitted dress, sitting calmly at the vanity, doing her makeup. A flicker of guilt flashed through his deep eyes. Gone in an instant. Then his lips curled into that charming, roguish smile as he walked straight to her. He hugged her from behind. Adrienne met his reflection in the mirror. “When did you leave? When I woke up, you weren’t in the room.” Alistair lied without blinking. “A little after five. Went out for a run.” His gaze dropped to the stiff, high collar of her dress. With a laugh, he smoothly changed the subject. “Adrienne, you’re dressed so tight. Aren’t you scared of the heat?” He tugged at her collar. Adrienne slapped his hand away at once, brushing on blush as she said, “Alistair, I want to talk to you about something.” Alistair stayed clingy, wrapping around her like nothing had happened. No matter how intense things had been with Brielle last night, in his heart, the person he loved most was still Adrienne. The women outside were just for the moment. At his level, trying to stay spotless out there was basically impossible. Everyone played. If he didn’t play? People would assume he was putting on a performance. They’d worry he might slip up. He’d draw the wrong kind of attention. He believed— As long as none of it touched Adrienne. As long as those women could never threaten Adrienne’s rightful place as his wife. Then he was still a good husband. Alistair kept his voice light. “Honey, just say it. Why do we need to ‘discuss’ anything? I’m your husband.” Adrienne pulled away from his touch. She stepped out of his arms, reached for her shawl, and said, “I want to go back to work at the company.” They shared a company under both their names: Evercrest Group. They had built it together. It was supposed to be proof of their love. Two years earlier, Adrienne’s mother’s condition had worsened and demanded full-time care. Alistair had persuaded Adrienne to step back from the company, to focus on her mother for a while… and she had ended up sidelined ever since. But now. After the betrayal. Adrienne finally understood how essential it was for a woman to have a career—and her own income. More than that. She needed to understand the company’s cash flow and profits. It was marital property. Even in a divorce, it could be divided. When Alistair heard her request, his gaze flickered for just a moment. He asked gently, “Is your monthly allowance not enough? Starting next month, I’ll give you fifty thousand dollars a month, all right?” Adrienne stared at him. He kept raising the figure, his voice softening further. “Eighty thousand. Adrienne, I don’t want you working yourself into the ground. The company isn’t as easy as you imagine. Besides, our most important priority right now is to start trying for a baby. You need rest, you need to take care of your body, and give us a child—our love made real…” Adrienne couldn’t tell whether that was what he genuinely believed, or merely a convenient excuse. She said firmly, “Alistair, I’m not changing my mind.” Once she shut him down, Alistair grew irritated. He was tired of coaxing her. “Adrienne, what’s so terrible about being a full-time wife? Am I letting you go hungry? Am I leaving you with nothing? The comfortable life you have right now is exactly what countless working women out there would kill for!” Besides, in a normal family, the man provides for the family and the woman took care of the home. That had always been his view. Thinking of that, Alistair added, “Adrienne, my mother, my aunt—they’re both full-time wives. They adjusted just fine.” Adrienne let out a quiet laugh. That was because they had leverage in their hands. They might be “full-time wives,” but they held assets, funds, shares, real estate, cars—pull out any one piece and it would be enough for a regular salaried family to spend for ten lifetimes. A full-time wife wasn’t the same as a full-time maid. She’d been too naive back then, handing Evercrest Group over to Alistair completely. She’d believed that people who loved each other would grow old together, with no mine and yours. Adrienne asked softly, “Alistair, why are you so against me going back to work? Did you do something behind my back?” In an instant. Alistair’s expression shifted. His eyes flicked, and his tone turned heavier. “You’re always overthinking. I’m so busy with work every day I can barely breathe—what could I possibly do to betray you? My love for you is witnessed by heaven and earth. We’ve known each other for eight years, loved each other for six. How much money have I spent on you? How much effort have I poured into you? Adrienne, how can you doubt my loyalty? You’re hurting me.” Adrienne hid the mockery buried deep in her eyes. Her voice turned light, almost playful. “Alistair, why are you so nervous? I’m just joking.” Alistair didn't say anything. He turned away in embarrassment and anger, lifting a hand to press his Church. Even he felt he’d overreacted. A trace of unnamed emotion flashed through his pitch-black eyes. “Fine. If you want to work, then work. The business department is short-handed. When you have time, go report to the business department.” The business department. Sales. To put it bluntly: drinking with clients and acting like a lackey. Back when the company first started, they’d run deals together, been forced to drink until they were wasted. They’d squatted on the curb, each hugging a trash can, vomiting until the world spun. Alistair had gripped Adrienne’s hand tightly and promised, “Adrienne, once the company is stable, I’ll never make you run sales again. I’ll make you my equal—vice president, and Mrs. Wenther.” Adrienne smiled bitterly. Those words… he’d probably forgotten them. She nodded. “Fine. I’ll go to the business department.” A flash of reluctance crossed Alistair’s eyes. But if he wanted to make her quit, he could only use special methods. With that thought, he felt justified. Alistair tugged at his collar. “I’m going to shower first. When I’m done, we’ll go back to the family house together and offer our regards to the elders.” Ten minutes later. The newlyweds left the hotel together, just as an elevator stood open. Alistair quickened his pace and urged her, “Hurry up.” Adrienne walked with difficulty. Her skin was delicate. The slightest touch left bruises. She didn’t dare buy medicine—she could only let the small, scattered injuries heal on their own. Adrienne stepped into the elevator. And froze. Eamon was inside. There had been too many people at yesterday’s wedding for Adrienne to see clearly. Last night didn’t even need mentioning. So this was the first time she’d gotten a close look at Eamon. The rumors weren’t lying. Alistair was already considered exceptional-looking, the kind of man who’d been called campus heartthrob at school. But next to Eamon, Alistair dulled instantly. Like a dim little star beside a cold, bright moon—utterly outshined. Alistair took Adrienne’s hand. His fingers laced through hers possessively. “Adrienne, this is Uncle Eamon. You met yesterday.” Adrienne nodded. Cold sweat sprang into her palm. She lowered her head and obediently addressed him. “U-Uncle Eamon Ea…” The moment he heard her voice, Eamon’s eyes lowered. His gaze settled on Adrienne, fixed on the glossy black crown of her head. That voice… it was strangely similar to the little wildcat from last night. His deep eyes narrowed. With his height advantage, he caught the faint, half-hidden mark beneath the collar of Adrienne’s dress. Then Eamon’s calm gaze shifted to Alistair. On Alistair’s neck, beneath the cover of his white shirt, there were several vivid red marks. It looked like the newlyweds had gone at it hard last night. So how could that little wildcat possibly be Adrienne? Eamon didn’t speak. Adrienne’s back prickled with panic. He wasn’t going to recognize her, was he? Eamon suddenly let out a low “Mm.” His tone was icy—dark, chilling. The kind of man you didn’t want to provoke. The elevator doors opened. Alistair led Adrienne out, and they immediately heard Eamon’s assistant, Bram, step up and say, “Mr. Wenther, we found last night’s girl.” Adrienne’s heart shot up into her throat again. She didn’t know what else was said over there, but Eamon suddenly turned and walked straight toward Adrienne. Adrienne swallowed hard. Her throat was bone-dry. She was done for. Chapter 3 Stay Away From Eamon Eamon stood in front of the couple. Adrienne dropped her gaze, swallowed by despair. But then his low voice came, slow and heavy. “Alistair. Tell your grandpa I’m not coming back.” Adrienne remained silent. Alistair smiled. “Okay.” Eamon gave a slight nod. His eyes flicked to Adrienne’s face for a brief second. She looked like she was… relieved? It was odd, but he didn’t dig into it. He left in a hurry. Adrienne got into the car. Alistair drove, watching her still-pale face through the rearview mirror. He chuckled softly. “Scared of my uncle, huh?” Adrienne hummed. Those rumors… like how he killed without blinking, how he ran both sides of the law. Who wouldn’t be scared? And last night, too… Alistair let out a low laugh and said casually, “Just keep things polite on the surface. He’s not a good guy. Stay far away from him most of the time.” ****** At Wenther Estate, there weren’t many elders who took Adrienne seriously. She swallowed a bellyful of anger with nowhere to let it out. This was probably the bitter payoff of marrying into a family that didn’t match her. On the way from Wenther Estate to the company. Alistair sighed and apologized to her. “What my mom did was… too much. I didn’t mean to not take your side. You know my parents’ relationship is bad. My dad hasn’t come home in years. If my mom sees how close we are, I’m afraid she’ll make things harder for you next time.” Adrienne’s eyes reddened. “Your parents’ bad relationship isn’t my fault. She can take it out on your dad. She can take it out on you. But she has no right—none—to take it out on me.” When she loved him, she always thought it was better to keep the peace. Only after she made up her mind to stop loving him did she realize how wronged she’d been. And… Whenever she was treated unfairly, Alistair never once spoke up for her. Alistair’s brows drew together. He glanced at her through the rearview mirror. "Adrienne, before we got married, you were thoughtful, sweet, reasonable. How is it that on the very first day of our marriage you're already this hostile?" Adrienne was so furious she let out a bitter laugh. She shot back, voice cutting. "Alistair, you're my husband. You're the only person who can stand between a wife and her mother-in-law. When your mother gives me a hard time, my husband says nothing—and I'm supposed to be the understanding one? Alistair, who's being understanding of me?" Alistair pulled the car over to the shoulder. "Adrienne, can you try seeing things from my side for once? Work is already exhausting enough every day. Can't you manage these household issues on your own? Just handle it, all right?" He was annoyed. Adrienne stayed home day after day with nothing to do—couldn't she spare a little time to sweet-talk his mother? Women just needed a gentle push. Older women, too. The air inside the car turned razor-sharp. Alistair slumped heavily against the seat, raising a hand to rub his temples. Then— His phone rang. He answered right away. "Brielle, what's wrong?" Adrienne's gaze shifted. She didn't catch what Brielle said, but Alistair's voice dropped into something gentle, soothing. "Brielle, I'll be right there." He hung up. Alistair drew a deep breath, collected himself, then reached over and patted Adrienne's hair. His tone softened. "It's all my fault. I'm sorry. I'll call you a cab, okay? You can head to the office." On Adrienne's delicate, striking face, a sneer took shape. "Alistair, on the first day of our marriage, you're ditching your new wife on the side of the road to run to your childhood sweetheart?" Alistair clicked his tongue, his voice carrying a trace of something playful. "Adrienne, I only see Brielle as the little sister I grew up with. Besides, back then, if it hadn't been for avoiding suspicion, she wouldn't have married some random man just to put your mind at ease—only to end up suffering abuse. She came to me for help. I can't turn her away. Even if you set aside our childhood bond, there's still the bond between our parents." Adrienne gave a cold, bitter smile. "I never forced her to get married. I bear zero responsibility. And I'm not accepting any kind of emotional manipulation." As she spoke, She pushed open the door and stepped out. The window rolled down. Alistair looked at her, helpless. "Adrienne, don't throw a tantrum. I'll come back once I'm done." Then, The silver Bentley pulled away. Adrienne stood alone at the roadside. She felt dazed. So. This was marriage. On the second day of being a wife, she was already staring at all sorts of petty conflicts unfolding. If she had known, why the hell did she get married in the first place? High heels paired with a fitted dress. Pretty. Slender. Graceful enough to make people’s eyes linger. But for the person wearing it, it was torture. Before long, blisters rose on Adrienne’s feet, rubbed raw to blood. Her heart ached, her feet ached, and that place hurt too. Everything felt awful. In the distance, A steady black Cullinan rolled toward her. Bram spotted Adrienne on the roadside. “That looks like the newly-wed Mrs. Wenther. Didn’t she go back to Wenther Estate with Mr. Wenther? Why is she walking alone?” A man’s voice answered, low and heavy. “Give her a ride.” Bram looked at Eamon in the rearview mirror, shocked. Their master’s kindness gene finally awaken? The Cullinan eased to a stop by the curb. Bram rolled down the window. “Mrs. Wenther, it’s hard to get a cab here. Mr. Wenther says you can get in—we’ll give you a ride.” Eamon again. Adrienne didn’t just want to avoid him—she needed to. So she refused at once. “Thank you, Uncle Eamon. My ride will be here soon.” Bram remained silent. Well. Mr. Wenther’s good deed died halfway through. In the back seat, That displeased, deep voice rose, like someone’s hand brushing a cello string by accident—rough and gritty. “What? Afraid I’ll eat you?” Adrienne remained silent. In that bland tone, she still heard danger, thick and unmistakable. She could only steel herself, thank him, then pull open the door and sit beside Eamon. His presence was overwhelming. The second Adrienne got in, she was wrapped in a cold, crisp cedar scent—exactly the same as last night. “Where’s Alistair?” Adrienne realized Eamon was talking to her and immediately answered obediently. “He had something to do, so he left first.” Eamon gave a quiet snort. No emotion could be read from it. Bram asked at the right moment, “Mrs. Wenther, where are you headed?” Adrienne answered at once, “Just drop me near Evercrest Group.” Bram said, “Got it. If I remember right, it should be on First Avenue, the Rising Street stretch…” As Bram spoke, he seemed distracted. The car suddenly shot toward the center barrier. Bram yanked the wheel in a sharp turn. The rear of the car nearly lifted off the ground. And Adrienne was flung straight out. Right as her forehead was about to smash into the door, a scorching hand clamped around her forearm and yanked her back hard. Dizzy, Adrienne was dragged back. Carried by momentum, she slammed into Eamon. Adrienne quickly lifted a hand and pressed it to his chest so she wouldn’t collapse into an even more awkward position. But it didn’t make things much better. The car steadied. Adrienne immediately sat back in her seat, lowered her eyes—and saw one of the frog buttons at her collar had come undone. Chapter 4 Alistair, Have You Slept With Brielle? Adrienne panicked. She shot a hand up and clamped it over her neckline. Awkwardness, humiliation, fear—everything surged at once. She even softened her breathing. So tense she almost didn’t dare inhale. Then, a suit jacket carrying a cold, crisp cedar scent was tossed over. It dropped right over her head. Adrienne didn't say anything. Scrambling, she used the jacket to cover herself, then said in a muffled voice, “Thank you.” ****** Evercrest Group. The office tower. Downstairs. Bram pulled over with shaking nerves. Because of that small incident on the way, he didn’t even dare breathe too loudly. The car stopped at the curb. Adrienne hurriedly shoved the door open. “Thank you, Uncle Eamon. Thank you, Bram.” After that, she fled into the building without looking back. Bram made a U-turn. Eamon’s gaze withdrew from the office building. His voice dropped. “Have you gotten in touch with last night’s woman?” Bram quickly said, “We’re still trying.” Eamon hummed. He closed his eyes to rest. Yet in his ear, it was like last night replayed again—that little wildcat’s cry. Soft. Small. Sweet and seductive without even realizing it. A heat rose in his blood. Almost enough to make him lose control. And then, in a flash, cold darkness burst into Eamon’s eyes, his look turning razor-sharp. He actually overlapped that sound with Adrienne’s face. Damn it. Had it been too long since he’d touched a woman? ****** Evercrest Group. Adrienne went straight to the Sales Department manager’s office to ask about her job. The department manager’s name was Cian Thornton, an old-timer at Evercrest Group. He knew Adrienne. “Ma’am, please, sit.” Adrienne said, “No need. I’m here to work. Let’s not talk about old ties. Just tell me what I’m doing.” Cian hesitated. After thinking it over again and again, he told the truth. “Ma’am, Sales has been completely reshuffled for a long time. Other than me, no one knows you’re Mr. Wenther’s Adrienne. In my opinion, it’s better not to reveal your identity.” Adrienne agreed without hesitation. "That's exactly how it should be." Cian finally let out a breath. "The work in Sales isn't as simple as you might imagine. I hope you'll stand shoulder to shoulder with everyone, put in the hard work, and deliver real results. I've already spoken with Manager Camille Veyne. You'll shadow her for now." Adrienne nodded. "Then I'll head over." Cian personally walked Adrienne to the door. The moment he closed it— Alistair's call came through. "How did it go?" Cian rushed to answer. "Mrs. Wenther just left, sir. I placed her under the 'Dragon lady' in our department. She has no idea who Mrs. Wenther really is. She'll treat her with the same ruthlessness she uses on every other employee. I'm confident Mrs. Wenther will resign on her own within a few days." Alistair's voice dropped low with approval. "Well done. As long as Adrienne gives up on her own, I'll make it worth your while." Cian let out a sycophantic little sound. "It's my honor to lighten your burden, Mr. Wenther." Alistair hung up. Cian curled his lip in contempt. So what if they had once loved each other like life and death? Weren't they sleeping in the same bed but dreaming different dreams now? He shook his head. After leaving Cian's office, Adrienne checked the nameplates mounted beside the doors and found Camille's office. She knocked. Only after she heard "Come in" did Adrienne push the door open and step inside. Camille looked Adrienne over. Her gaze lingered a long while on Adrienne's stunning bare face before she finally looked away. She asked flatly, "Adrienne, right?" Adrienne nodded. “Camille, I’ll be relying on you to guide me.” Camille’s voice stayed businesslike—fast and cold. “You’re pretty. Honestly, that’s an advantage in sales, but I’m not going to look at you differently because of it. In Sales, performance is always number one. Here’s a file from Silverpeak Corporation. Before we get off at five-thirty today, organize Silverpeak’s cooperation cases from the past five years and bring them to me.” Adrienne took it and answered cleanly, “Okay.” She buried her head and worked. Love and career—she couldn’t end up with neither. Next to Adrienne’s desk was a young girl named Dahlia Croft, a new grad who had just passed probation. As soon as Adrienne arrived, she gifted her a four-piece acrylic Little God of Wealth set. “Pray to him whenever. Money luck will come naturally.” “Thank you.” “You’re so pretty. How old are you?” “Twenty-four.” “I’m twenty-two. I’ll call you Adrienne if it’s ok. You can call me Dahlia.” “Okay!” “Adrienne, you’re new. If there’s anything you don’t understand, ask me. I might not understand either, but I’ve been here longer and I know more people. I’ll ask around for you.” “…Okay.” Dahlia was an expert at slacking off—so smooth no one noticed. She even tried to pull Adrienne into slacking with her. Adrienne refused. Ten minutes before clock-out. Adrienne finally stood up from a mountain of documents. She lifted a hand and rubbed her sore shoulders and neck, then carried the organized files to Camille’s office. When she came out, more than half her coworkers had already left. Dahlia eagerly called for Adrienne to take the subway together. But then, as soon as they walked into the lobby of the office building, they saw Alistair driving up, picking up Brielle who was waiting by the curb. Adrienne instinctively dodged. After all, it still wasn’t time to burn bridges with Alistair. She barely understood the company yet—she had to prevent Alistair from transferring assets ahead of time. Only after the Mercedes sped away did Dahlia sigh. “I’m so jealous. Adrienne, you know what? That big-chested woman just now says she’s our Mr. Wenther’s secretary, but really, she’s Mr. Wenther’s woman.” “Secretary?” Adrienne frowned. She hadn’t even known Brielle worked at Evercrest Group! Dahlia nodded, lowering her voice as she gossiped about her boss. “Last time I accidentally ran into them kissing in the office. Like, super intense, the kind of make-out that gets your blood pumping. Feels like if I hadn’t gone in to deliver the monthly report, they would’ve just… tsk tsk tsk.” The girl was bold and blunt, saying whatever came to mind with nothing held back. Not an ounce of shame. Adrienne’s heart felt flayed. A sour, swollen ache swept through her. Six years. Her best youth. How could she just drop it and be fine immediately? Even quitting smoking has withdrawal. She just never imagined, the love that walked with her through her entire youth would end like this, in such a disgusting way. She’d become a complete joke. ****** Silverbrook Manor, luxury condo. Adrienne returned home. She had assumed Alistair and Brielle were out fooling around again tonight. She hadn't expected him to actually come home. Alistair let out a sigh, and there was a note of complaint in his voice. "Honey, it's ten to seven. First day of our marriage, yet there’s nothing cooking in the house, we can’t even have a proper meal at home. Are you really sure you want to keep this up?" As Adrienne changed out of her shoes, she said, "I'm not a live-in cook. If you want a hot meal, we can hire a live-in housekeeper." Alistair walked over and wrapped his arms around Adrienne from behind, his voice softening. "Honey, I just want to eat something you made with your own hands." Adrienne pulled free of his embrace and went to the kitchenette for a glass of water. "Alistair, no woman enjoys spending her entire life stuck at the stove, reeking of grease and smoke. Before, when I spent hours preparing a single meal for you, it was only because I liked you." Alistair froze, then let out a scoffing laugh. "Honey, listen to yourself. You don't like me anymore?" Adrienne shot back, "Then do you still like me?" Alistair laughed and shook his head. "Adrienne, what's going on with you? You've been acting strange since yesterday. Of course I like you. You're the most important woman in my life. About leaving you behind this morning—I apologize. It's because Brielle is in her divorce cooling-off period, and that bastard ex-husband of hers harasses her every single day. We grew up together. I can't just stand by and watch her get bullied and do nothing. Didn't you always praise me for standing by my friends in need?" Adrienne gave a cold little sneer and asked him point-blank, "Alistair, have you slept with Brielle?" Chapter 5 Evidence of Cheating Alistair froze for a beat. When his eyes met Adrienne’s face going pale in an instant, he denied it without hesitation. “Of course not. Brielle and I are clean. We’re just childhood friends.” Adrienne questioned softly, “If you’re so ‘clean,’ then why did you hide the fact she got hired at Evercrest Group from me?” Alistair fell silent for a moment. He walked to the couch. He sat down right next to Adrienne, slid an arm around her waist—soft and slender, small enough to hold with one hand. “I’m just afraid you’d overthink it?” Like he couldn’t wait to brush it off, he tried to turn it into a joke, a playful tone. “Honey, don’t be mad. Come give me a kiss.” Adrienne looked into his eyes and even caught a few threads of guilt buried deep inside. She pushed him away and said evenly, “If you don’t want me to overthink, then you should’ve told me these things openly. Your honesty is what gives me security.” Alistair frowned. “Adrienne, Brielle is really pitiful right now. Back then, if it weren’t for us…” Adrienne stood up fast. She cut off his trip down memory lane. “Stop. I don’t want to hear all that old, pointless stuff that has nothing to do with me.” As she spoke, she went back to the bedroom. Not long after, a huge slam came from outside. Even the wedding photo hanging above the headboard shook. Adrienne closed her eyes and wiped the dampness at the corner of her eye. Taking a deep breath, she pulled out her phone, found a number, and dialed. “Mr. Alden? I want to hire you to find evidence that my husband is cheating…” Not long after she hung up with Mr. Alden, Adrienne suddenly got a call from Camille. Camille sounded urgent, but every word was organized. “By the usual practice, your first day on the job shouldn’t come with anything too heavy. “But Cian just suddenly set deadlines for two proposals, and I’m here with the others negotiating with Silverpeak’s general manager. “On that side, I want you and Dahlia to go over. The contract’s already been negotiated. You two just need to show up, go through the motions, make them happy, and get them to sign.” Adrienne answered immediately. “Okay, Camille.” Right after that, she contacted Dahlia. Amid Dahlia’s passionate rant against the company, the two of them met up at the entrance of the private club. Dahlia could curse all she wanted, but she was professional, too. The second they stepped into the private room, she put away the street-talking attitude. Her sweet, innocent face wore a proper smile as she and Adrienne walked in one after the other. Inside the room, several executives had hostesses sitting beside them, all dressed skimpy. Adrienne narrowed her eyes. The moment those bosses saw two young women come in, they didn’t even need to mention how stunning the taller one was. Even the slightly shorter one looked more innocent than the girls already in their arms. Their faces lit up instantly. The hostesses in their laps suddenly didn’t smell so good anymore. This Cian really knew how to do a favor. Adrienne took out the contract proposal and set it on the table. “Mr. Grafton, Mr. Sheffield, this is the final contract plan. “You can take a look. If there are no objections, can we sign today?” Mr. Grafton casually picked up the two proposals and tossed them aside. His eyes locked onto Adrienne. That filthy, leering gaze made people uneasy. “The contract is easy. As long as I’m happy, I’ll sign it for you right away. Let’s drink a couple first and build some rapport. “There will be plenty of chances to work together later. Any project plan in my hands can make you rake in a fortune.” Adrienne smiled without warmth. “Mr. Grafton, I really can’t drink. But since you’re being so straightforward, I’ll toast you with tea instead of alcohol.” The smile on Mr. Grafton’s face dropped instantly. His finger tapped the glass tabletop, his tone dripping with mockery. “So this is… you embarassing me in front of everyone?” Adrienne and Dahlia exchanged a look. ****** Alistair lay on a chaise lounge, his head resting on a woman’s thighs. Brielle fed him a grape and said, "Don't worry. I already spoke with Cian. He'll only have Mr. Grafton and the others scare your wife a little. "Let her see the kind of lowlifes who show up at these drinking tables. She'll definitely back off once she realizes it's too much, resign on her own, and probably never want to set foot in the company again for the rest of her life." Alistair swallowed the grape, then lightly nipped the tip of Brielle's finger. "Mm." It must have tickled where he bit. Brielle let out a sweet, coquettish laugh. "Ugh, you're terrible. Why are you biting me? Alistair, you're so good to your Adrienne. If a man treated me that sweet and generous, I definitely wouldn't want to work. "I'd stay home every day and wait on him hand and foot. Your wife is blessed and doesn't even know it. Whose fault is that? You spoiled her rotten!" Alistair's thick lashes fluttered slightly. "I spoiled her?" Brielle hummed and spoke slowly, drawing out every word. "If it wasn't you, then who? You hold her in your palm, afraid she'll break. You keep her close, afraid she'll slip away. You're one step away from handing her your whole life. "Alistair, you always place yourself so low. After a while, people just start taking it for granted." A dark glint flashed through Alistair's eyes. Was that how it was? He didn't fully understand it himself. When he first fell in love, the one he wanted was Adrienne. For Adrienne, he had done everything he could think of. So from the very beginning, he had already set himself too low. That was why Adrienne dared to act spoiled and proud. What kind of bride, on her wedding night, refused to let the groom touch her? Thinking of the night before… Alistair felt something calculating stir inside him, and anger rose with it. He pulled Brielle closer. He took his pleasure as a man. Something a platonic love could never give him. But what did it matter? He was only seeking release. Like drinking, smoking, billiards, golf—just entertainment, a way to unwind. As long as he didn't fall in love with anyone else. Then it wasn't betrayal. From beginning to end. The one he loved was Adrienne. Only Adrienne. ****** An exclusive club. Dahlia lifted her glass. "Mr. Grafton, my sister really can't hold her liquor. I'll toast you in her place. Please be understanding, and don't hold it against someone as insignificant as me." She downed it in one gulp, choking until her face flushed scarlet. She turned the glass upside down. "Mr. Grafton, not a drop left. Now let's talk about the contract. We carried forward the concept from the final draft—starting with green sustainability, using big data as the foundation, from…" Mr. Grafton smiled. "I didn't catch that. Come closer and say it." Dahlia scooted over a few inches. "Using big data as the foundation, from—" Without warning, Mr. Grafton's hand shot up, seized Dahlia's wrist, and yanked hard. The petite woman was dragged straight onto his lap. "You smell incredible. Let me find out if you taste just as good." His sour breath and wet mouth descended toward Dahlia's throat. Dahlia's face twisted in shock. It was her first time facing workplace harassment, and she panicked, helpless. "Get off me, you bastard!" Mr. Grafton reached to tear open her collar. Adrienne rose to her feet without hesitation, snatching a liquor bottle from the table. "Fraser, let her go." The other men turned toward Adrienne and laughed, filthy and leering. "This one's got fire in her. Should we all take a turn with her?" Adrienne swept them with a cold stare. Her hand went up and came crashing down. She shattered the bottle across Mr. Grafton's skull. Blood burst out, splattering across Adrienne's pale face like tiny red plum blossoms blooming in fresh snow. Adrienne hauled Dahlia to her feet, gripping the broken bottle by the neck. Shards of glass glinted under the light. "Back off. Get the hell back!" She swung it in a wide arc, and the lecherous old men stumbled backward. Adrienne grabbed Dahlia and ran. Mr. Grafton clutched his bleeding forehead. "After them! Chase them down! I'm going to fuck them both to death today—fuck!" Chapter 6 Our Wedding Night Adrienne grabbed Dahlia and pulled her outside. But, The old bastard’s bodyguards were already blocking them head-on. Dahlia shoved Adrienne away. “We can’t both go down here. I’ll hold them off. You go—go find someone to save me!” Adrienne knew this wasn’t the time to be stubborn. If she went for help, there might still be a chance. If she stayed, they’d both be finished. She gave Dahlia a deep look, sincere and steady. Dahlia had only known Adrienne for a day. But for some reason, she just believed Adrienne would come back for her. Adrienne lifted her foot to run. But Fraser, right behind her, grabbed her by the hair. Pain exploded across her scalp. Tears surged out before she could stop them. Fraser cursed nonstop then slammed Adrienne against the railing. His gaze was lewd. It raked over the generous curve rising at her chest. Naked. Like he’d already stripped her down with his eyes. Adrienne drove her knee up. Fraser doubled over from the hit, his face twisting with pain. Then he viciously whipped his hand across her face. After that, he shot a look to the bodyguards on both sides. Four big, burly men rushed in and pinned Adrienne into the railing. Spread-eagle. Like she was there for the taking. Fraser yanked his tie loose. “Damn it! I gave you a chance and you didn’t want it. Today I’m gonna fuck you to death right here.” People were coming and going in the hallway. With this setup like some kind of gang hit, no one dared step forward. Nobody wanted to get dragged into it. Fraser got even more shameless. He reached down to yank at Adrienne’s pants. His hand touched her waist. Adrienne’s whole body shuddered. She bit through her lip and turned her head to look. It was the second floor. If she jumped, it wouldn’t kill her. Adrienne closed her eyes. She forced herself to arch backward. The bodyguards had been pressing her down with all their strength, but because Fraser started tugging at her clothes, their grip loosened. They never, in a million years, expected Adrienne to dare jump. Eyes shut, she tipped back and fell. She wrapped her arms over her head. The pain she expected didn’t come. She landed in a broad embrace that carried the clean, woody scent of cedar. Adrienne lifted her head in disbelief. And she saw… Eamon. His expression was cold. He glanced at her, his gaze pausing for a beat on her swollen cheek. “Get down.” Adrienne snapped out of it. She immediately slid out of Eamon’s arms and landed on the ground, pleading softly, “Mr. Wenther… my friend is still upstairs. Can you help me?” Eamon lowered his arm. Bram noticed right away something was off about the movement. Probably when he caught Ma'am just now, his arm got hit. He hadn’t even reacted in time. By the time he realized the face that had fallen was Adrienne, it was already too late. He hadn’t expected Mr. Wenther to reach out and help. Nearby, the club owner was already so scared his back went numb. “Mr. Wenther, are you okay?” Eamon kept his voice low—hoarse, dangerous, and overpowering. “Is this place you run a club, or a brothel?” He didn’t spare the man an inch of dignity. Mr. Sheffield, the owner of the club, went ashen and immediately ordered his people to get Dahlia out. Adrienne’s eyes trembled. Her long lashes fluttered like shaking butterfly wings—pretty, delicate—while her porcelain-white face still carried that just-survived look. She stared seriously at Eamon’s face, so stunning it bewitches all who sees him. “Thank you for helping.” Eamon looked down at her coldly and tossed his coat over. “What a hassle.” Adrienne flushed in embarrassment. Seeing the damage at her chest, she carefully put the coat on. Her voice was hoarse, damp with emotion. “I’m sorry.” Eamon’s brows drew tight, his jawline hard as ice. He strode away. Dahlia made it back safely to Adrienne. The girl was truly shaken. She cried until her foundation was streaked. “Adrienne…” Adrienne patted her shoulder. It was comfort, in its simplest form. Dahlia wiped her tears. “The contract’s going to fall through.” Adrienne didn't say anything. The next day, Fraser and several others were taken into custody by the authorities for a string of offenses—tax evasion, product substitution, fraudulent accounting, and more. That, at least, lightened the consequences Adrienne and Dahlia would have faced for failing to close the deal. Dahlia whispered to Adrienne in secret, "I went home last night and cursed that old bastard until dawn. Seems like karma finally catches up." Adrienne smiled faintly. Dahlia pressed again, "After you fell, what happened?" Adrienne couldn't reveal her identity. She invented something on the spot. "I happened to crash straight into the club owner. He was afraid something might happen on his property, so he rushed people upstairs to get you out." Dahlia finally relaxed. She was about to speak again when— Camille's summons came through. Dahlia stuck out her tongue. "Feels like we're about to get reamed out." Adrienne said nothing. The two of them walked into the office one after the other. Camille handed them two packets of information—one on the Frostline Capital, the other on the Starling Global. She glanced at them and frowned. "Last night's mess is considered settled. But the two of you lost a major client, so you'd better make up for it by delivering results. These next two cases are the highest priority. Take a look and tell me which one you want." Adrienne finished reading through the materials. She knew the man calling the shots at Frostline Capital was Eamon, and the CEO of Starling Global was Holden Cavell. Adrienne thought for a moment. Then she said without hesitation, "I'll take Starling." Camille leaned back in her chair, tilting it slightly, fingers interlaced. "Mr. Cavell of Starling is charming and flashy. He's definitely easier to win over than Mr. Wenther. But Mr. Wenther is still a relative of our own Mr. Wenther. He should at least give us some face." Adrienne offered a faint smile. "If Mr. Wenther found out the project was won on favors alone, I don't think he'd be pleased." Back then, the two of them had started a business together. Nearly all the startup capital had been borrowed. Because Alistair had been mocked for his father’s low status, he’d always wanted even more to prove himself. Camille seemed to think it over. In the end, he agreed with Adrienne’s choice. “Make your plan. Whether you can stand firm in the business department depends on this project.” ****** Adrienne took the proposal home to work on it. At eleven at night, Alistair finally came through the door, reeking of alcohol. "Adrienne? Adrienne? Adrienne!" Staggering, he shoved open the study door. "What are you doing in here? I drank too much. I feel like hell. Go make me some spaghetti." Adrienne closed her laptop. She stood. As she moved past Alistair, soaked in booze, he suddenly seized her by the arm. He pulled Adrienne down onto his lap. His chin pressed against her shoulder as he coaxed her, voice dripping with indulgence. "Honey, what's going on with you? You've been so cold to me lately. Did I do something that upset you? Tell me. I'll fix it, all right?" The way he lowered his head looked exactly like the old days. But this time, he had crossed a line—the one line Adrienne could never forgive. She didn't know, with that massive crack splitting the space between them, what she was supposed to feel toward Alistair anymore. Saying she wasn't wounded would be a lie. The man she had known for eight years, loved for six. From eighteen to twenty-four—the best years of a girl's life—she had poured every single one of them into loving Alistair. How was she supposed to simply let that go? Alistair kept murmuring to himself. "Work's been a little crazy lately. Once this stretch is over, we'll go on our honeymoon. Oh, right—tomorrow we'll go to the hospital to see your mom, and in the evening we'll have dinner at my grandmother's, okay? Be good. Don't treat me like this. It hurts, it really hurts. Feel it—go on, feel it…" He grabbed Adrienne's hand. Pressed it to his chest. Beneath her palm thrummed the powerful beat of his heart. Adrienne frowned and struggled against him. "Alistair, you're drunk. Let go of me!" Half carrying, half dragging her, he pushed Adrienne down onto the tatami mat. He leaned in to kiss her lips. Adrienne turned her face away fast. The burning kiss landed against he...

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