This time, Liam shook his head, "No need, it's fine."

"Then ... I won't bother you anymore. I'll go now." I didn't dare look at him again and fled in a panic. He was the one who had 'betrayed' me, so why did I feel like the guilty one?

At 2 AM, I put on a wig and a hat, sneaking out quietly. Half an hour later, I was with my best friend, Beverly Clark, at the largest and liveliest bar in town.

Beverly opened two bottles of alcohol, slamming the table, "What? He actually has a woman he likes? Wasn't the rumor that he was untouched by worldly desires, cold and emotionless? He's been married to you for years without any reaction, so how did another woman suddenly appear?"

"I'm wondering the same thing. Could it be that because he has someone in his heart, he never looked at me?" I took a large gulp of alcohol, feeling frustrated.

"If he has someone he likes, why did he marry you?" Beverly's face twisted with anger.

I was angry too. Drunk, I stood up and started swaying with the bottle in my hand.

"Stop swaying! You're making me dizzy. Get a grip. Who are you? You're Tiffany, the princess of the Walsh Family! Don't you love watching handsome guys dance?" Beverly clapped her hands.

The next second, four or five handsome men lined up in front of me. "Miss Clark, what do you want us to dance to tonight?" one of the guys asked.

Beverly hesitated for a moment, "Three Person, she loves watching Three Person dance."

One of the guys whistled and the music in the bar changed. The four or five guys started swaying their hips, covering their faces with one hand and reaching toward me with the other.

I took turns linking hands with them. As the music kicked in, my inner dancer immediately came alive. I started swaying my hips along with them and soon Beverly joined in too.

Gradually, the entire bar caught on and everyone was dancing to 'Three Person' with us. The more I danced, the more excited I got. I pulled off my wig and placed it on one of the guys' heads. Then I grabbed my hat and put it on Beverly's head.

Beverly quickly tugged at me. "Hey, stop acting crazy! Did you forget you're a public figure?"

I didn't listen at all, waving my hands and lost in the dance.

"Someone's recording! No way, Tiffany, we have to leave now. Miss Walsh, Hannah will assassinate me tonight!" Beverly tapped my face.

But all I could see were the handsome guys' swaying waists in front of me and I dumbly said to them, "Keep dancing! I love watching! I ... I have money!"

***

"Look, is that Tiffany?"

"Her profile looks similar."

"No way. Even if she's just a washed-up celeb, she's still a small star. How dare she come clubbing in the middle of the night?"

"Probably trying to get attention. First, she tangled with the young priest and now she's dancing like crazy at a nightclub. Tomorrow, everyone will definitely know who Tiffany is."

I overheard the women behind me whispering, so I angrily turned around and glared at them.

"Mind your own business! Who dares to control me?" I pointed at them and shouted.

Beverly quickly grabbed my hand, "Miss Walsh, you'll regret this tomorrow."

"No, you will regret it! I ... I still want to dance ..." I muttered, started to dance again.

Just as I was really getting into it, someone suddenly picked me up. Through my daze, I heard everyone in the club collectively gasp, followed by the rapid sound of cameras clicking.

"L-Liam?" Beverly's eyes widened.

Liam nodded at her, "Sorry to trouble you. I'm here to take her home."

Beverly dumbly replied with an "Oh."

"Let me go! Put me down!" I yelled, drunk and flailing in his arms.

He ignored me completely, carrying me straight out of the club. I vaguely remember throwing a tantrum the whole way home, shouting and screaming until I was hoarse, like a dead dog.

Liam seemed to carry me into the bathroom and in my drunken state, I slammed him against the wall.

"Liam! Who exactly is that vixen you like? Is she ... is she prettier than me?" I huffed angrily.

Not to boast, but even though I was just a small-time actress, my face had always been my strong point. My haters had never been able to criticize my looks.

"She is," Liam said firmly, staring at me.

I pointed at him, about to explode, when suddenly, I felt nauseous. "Yuck!" I vomited all over him.

With a stony expression, Liam stripped off his shirt right in front of me. Seeing his perfect body, my legs turned to jelly.

Just as I was about to reach out and touch his abs, he scooped me up and dropped me into the bathtub filled with water. He averted his gaze as he quickly rinsed me off, then wrapped me in a large towel and pulled me out.

When our bodies touched, I paused. Because I could clearly feel that Liam seemed to be …

Could it be that all those health tonics my mom made finally took effect? After all, I had complained to Beverly at least a hundred times that Liam must be impotent.

He had a face that screamed 'playboy,' yet he kept women at arm's length. There couldn't be any reason other than that he was 'incapable.' But his reaction last night proved that he was perfectly normal.

I lowered my head, feeling my face flush. After carrying me back to the bedroom, he calmly dried my hair with a blow dryer.

"Liam, why do you always stay in the chapel? What's so ... special about it?" Before I could finish my sentence, I was already so sleepy that I collapsed onto the bed.

As I felt his fingers gently massaging my scalp, my eyelids grew heavier.

"It's to pray for someone ... for ten years," Liam said slowly, with serious and devout precision.

My heart swelled with sourness again. This 'beautiful woman' must weigh heavily on his heart. What kind of woman could make Liam willing to pray for her for ten whole years in the chapel? Should I ... just divorce him?

Caught in my dilemma, I drifted off to sleep, muttering, "You're definitely not incapable ... you're perfectly capable ..."

I wasn't sure if I imagined it, but it seemed like Liam's face darkened when he heard my words.

I woke up suddenly the next morning. The moment I sat up, memories from last night came flooding back. Trembled, I reached for my phone on the bedside table.

Yikes. Thirty-eight missed calls, all from my assistant, Hannah.

Then, I opened my WhatsApp. Two hundred ninety-nine unread messages. Most of them were from Hannah.

Twenty minutes later, I had finished going through the videos and trending topic screenshots Hannah sent me:

#90s starlet Tiffany causes drunken chaos, dancing wildly in a nightclub! (Trending)

#The love-hate entanglement between Tiffany and the young priest from the capital. (Trending)

#The unspeakable secret between Tiffany and Liam. (Trending)

#The aloof young priest personally retrieves Tiffany from a nightclub late at night. (Hot)

#Tiffany's 'Three Person' dance goes viral. (Hot)

Every single trending topic led to clips of me drunkenly pulling random guys to dance the Three Person. Every comment was full of people bashing me. They were accusing me of shamelessly using Liam for clout twice in two days.

Even though Liam wasn't part of the entertainment industry, a video of him taken by a fan in a church a few years ago had gone viral. Since then, many people had treated him as the ideal male lead from a novel, the ultimate heartthrob.

Moreover, his constant detachment from others and his abstinence from romance only fueled this godlike image. Netizens practically viewed him as a deity. They were convinced that I was desperate for fame and that's why I was targeting him.

"I should probably just quit the industry. I don't see any way out of this mess," I said to Hannah, teary-eyed and full of regret.

"Miss Walsh, are you hiding something from me? What exactly is your relationship with Liam?" Hannah asked seriously.

"What relationship could there be ... we're not close," I said, troubled.

It was not that I didn't want to say, but the low-key, hidden marriage was something Liam and I agreed upon from the start.

"There's no need to quit the industry. Perhaps you can use this publicity to land a good script. By the way, strike while the iron is hot. I've signed you up for a seaside variety show that starts tomorrow afternoon. You'd better prepare for it," Hannah said.

"Ah, I don't want to work," I roared, my voice echoing loudly.

Hannah was unsympathetic. "Do you still want to buy that villa? While you're young, make as much money as you can. The entertainment industry changes so fast and when you're older, what will you do?"

Her emphasis on making money was overwhelming. If Hannah knew that I was a crazy-rich princess who had always viewed money as nothing more than dirt, who never looked at prices when shopping, she'd probably be furious enough to bleed.

To be honest, the money I earned in the entertainment industry wasn't even enough to cover my monthly hair and skincare expenses, let alone other costs.

"Fine, I'll go," I said resignedly.

As it turned out, on this variety show, I met Liam's 'beautiful woman.' There were five of us on the show, three women and two men. The men were all newcomers this year.

Among the women, one was a big name, having become famous last year for a historical drama. She had a grand and stunning look and was particularly captivating in leading roles. At that moment, this big name, Erica Castillo, turned her focus on me.

On the show, she deliberately made things difficult for me, mockingly belittling my luck and acting skills and even shamelessly rode on the coattails of others' popularity. It was unbearable.

I sneered, "May I ask who you are? Even the person Liam likes hadn't spoken, so what's it to you?"

Erica's expression immediately darkened. After a moment, she flipped her hair and said, "What if I told you that Liam likes me?"

I was stunned. That mysterious woman ... could it really be Erica?