My name is Sloane Adler, and I am the sole heiress to the Blackwood Group.

My arranged engagement to Steward, the heir of the Sterling Group, was supposed to make us partners in business and in life.

However, he kept postponing our wedding, always using the excuse that our companies' merger had to be finalized first.

I thought he was just being cautious. Then I overheard him proposing to another woman, telling her she was the one he truly loved.

He even scoffed at our engagement, calling it nothing more than a necessary business tool.

I finally understood. He never intended to marry me. He wanted the freedom to cheat without the legal or reputational fallout of a divorce.

He refused to make me his wife, yet he expected me to play the part of a devoted fiancée.

With no legal ties, no papers signed, he still trapped me in a meticulously woven web of lies.

So I decided to disappear. On the night of our engagement party, three days from now, when the world would be waiting for us to announce our wedding date.

I would show him that not everyone was a stepping stone for his empire.

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1

All of New York City expected my birthday party to be the prelude to my engagement to Steward, heir of the Sterling Group.

Under the spotlights, he fastened a multi-million-dollar diamond necklace around my neck—a symbol of our families' alliance, a promise of our future.

The guests erupted in thunderous applause, offering blessings as if they could already see the future chairman and his wife poised to take over the Sterling Group's empire.

Only I knew the necklace felt cold against my skin, and it wasn't just the diamonds.

After all, whatever spark we’d once had was long dead.

And not once had he ever discussed an actual wedding date.

"Sloane."

He held my hand, his voice carrying through the hall. "Sloane, once the merger is complete, we'll have the wedding of the century. All of Manhattan will witness our union."

Just then, his chief special assistant, Grant, approached and murmured something in a code only the two of them understood.

"Ava's been waiting for a while. She's getting impatient."

Steward handed me a glass of champagne, feigning adoration, but a flicker of impatience betrayed him.

He murmured back to Grant, "She always knows how to help me relax. Just be discreet. Sloane can't find out."

They were so sure they wouldn't be caught, but they had no idea I could hear every word through the listening device in my study.

Ava.

Relax.

The word was a needle of ice, piercing the warm bubble of illusion he had so carefully constructed around me.

So that was it. His constant delays, his empty promises—it was all to appease another woman.

My fingers tightened around the stem of the glass. I didn't feel the sting of betrayal, only an icy rage that flooded my veins.

We had no legal ties. He was free to do as he pleased.

Just then, Steward drew closer, his concerned gaze on me as he whispered in my ear, "What's wrong? Is the party too loud?"

"No." I set down my glass, pulling away from his touch. "It’s a little stuffy. I'd like to get some fresh air."

Even as I turned to leave, I could hear other business tycoons nodding in approval.

"Sloane is perfect—she already has the poise of the future Mrs. Sterling."

"Steward never leaves her side. Look how much he dotes on her."

Doting on me? He could hardly pretend to care. I had to bite back a bitter laugh.

I ignored them and strode into the garden, letting the cool night air soothe my fury.

Not being bound by a marriage certificate was, perhaps, a stroke of luck. When I left, there would be no messy legal disputes.

If anyone was going to get hurt, it wouldn't be me.

I used an encrypted phone to call Piper, my best friend in New York.

"Everything is ready. In three days, on Friday night, I will erase every trace of myself here."

"Understood. But be careful—Steward has tightened security at the private docks. The official story is to prevent harassment from corporate spies."

"Don't worry."

I ended the call with a cold snort.

The only reason Steward tightened security was to cover for his secret rendezvous.

"Three more days," I whispered to the night air, steeling my resolve to end this charade for good.

Just then, I heard soft footsteps stop a short distance away.

"What are you thinking about all alone out here?" Steward asked, his tone as gentle as ever.

He came to my side, maintaining a polite distance befitting an "engaged couple."

He had clearly heard my whisper but pretended he hadn't.

I turned slightly, offering the shy, hopeful smile of a bride-to-be. "Just praying for our upcoming partnership."

It was the truth.

Friday night was our scheduled engagement party—the perfect occasion for a grand farewell and a silent escape.

Steward smiled too, turning to gaze at the distant night sky. "Your prayers will be answered, Sloane."

He sounded so confident, as if the universe had personally promised him success, never suspecting my prayer was for a safe departure from this gilded cage.

"It's getting cold. Let's go inside," he said, ever the perfect gentleman.

I nodded and followed him back into the hall, a place filled with endless deception and anticipation.

The crystal chandeliers cast our shadows long, making them seem to merge into one. But in reality, an insurmountable chasm lay between us.

Just like our marriage certificate, which would never exist.

Back in the bustling ballroom, Steward held my hand as we mingled with the guests.

His palm was warm, and my smile was gracious, but my mind was miles away.

Noticing my distraction, he murmured, "Are you tired?"

He led me to a quiet rooftop terrace, fetching me a glass of water while he held a glass of red wine.

"What's on your mind, darling?" he asked, his arm wrapping around my waist.

I turned to study his impeccably handsome face, carved by moonlight and city neons.

I lowered my head. "Just a college friend," I murmured. "She was venting about her fiancé… he cheated on her."

He immediately pulled me deeper into his embrace. "Don't let other people's problems worry you. That will never be us. You're my one and only, Sloane, a gift from fate. I swear I'll protect you with my life."

I leaned against him, listening to his familiar heartbeat, and suddenly asked, "What if?"

"What if what?"

"What if you betrayed me?"

I felt him stiffen, his arm tightening around me in a flash. "There is no 'what if.' I swear on my honor, you are my only choice."

"Like I said… what if."

After a moment of silence, I felt his warm breath tickle my ear as he said in a low, clear voice, "If I ever betray you, may I lose everything, be utterly disgraced, and never be able to stand by your side again."

I smiled, but my heart felt like ice.

Just then, he pulled something from his pocket and placed it in my palm.

It was an antique watch, clearly of great age. Its platinum case gleamed in the moonlight, its face set with tiny sapphires.

The crests of his family's heirs were engraved on its back. It was warm from his touch, clearly an object of immense symbolic meaning.

"This was my grandfather's," Steward said, watching me. "It protected him until he engraved my grandmother's name on it, sealing their bond. And now, I'm giving it to you."

"It carries my promise. You'll feel it wherever you go. It will know you as its one true lady."

As he fastened the watch, the metal settled against my wrist bone, its warmth almost searing. It felt as if a distant heart was beating in time with mine.

"When we are officially married," he said, pressing his forehead against mine, "I will engrave our names on it with my own hands."

I held the watch, my fingers tracing the engraved crests.

It was heavy, burdened with too much history, too many promises… and now, one more deceptive vow of eternity.

"Mr. Sterling."

A charming voice greeted him respectfully. We turned to see a young woman standing in the shadows of the doorway, holding a file. "These are urgent documents from the marketing department. The board members are waiting in the conference room."

If I recalled correctly, this woman's name was Ava. Piper had mentioned her.

Steward's brow furrowed almost imperceptibly, but the reaction was gone in a flash.

He glanced at Ava and nodded. "Alright."

He turned back, cupping my face in his hands, his thumbs stroking my skin as he smiled. "I'm sorry, darling. This is an important company matter—I have to deal with it."

He leaned down and pressed a restrained, warm kiss to my forehead.

"Wait for me," he said, but paused before leaving. "The marketing alert came so suddenly. There's an unusual movement on a project, I must—"

"Go on," I said calmly, cutting him off.

He froze, surprised, but then relief washed over his face—so obvious he didn't bother to hide it. My easy acceptance meant he didn't need to elaborate.

"Alright."

With that, he turned and left with Ava, their footsteps disappearing quickly down the hall.

I didn't return to the ballroom. Instead, I walked down the corridor and hid behind a large modern art sculpture.