She didn’t flinch. Instead, she lazily trailed a finger down my chest, then my abs, a smirk tugging at her lips.

"In our world, purity doesn’t matter. Only status does. You’re taking this too seriously."

I caught her hand mid-motion, twisting it back just enough to make her gasp, then pulled her into my arms, locking her against me.

As punishment, I bit her earlobe, my teeth grazing her skin.

"Don’t talk nonsense. Whatever you want, I can give it to you. Don’t go."

She winced, barely, before breaking free. The warmth in her eyes vanished, replaced with ice.

"Edmund, you’ve crossed the line. You’re being punished. Go stand guard at the gate as a security officer for three days. Come back when you’ve calmed down."

I stood frozen in disbelief, tightening my chest. But she didn’t wait for a response.

"Before you go, pick out a dress for me and help me get ready."

Like dressing up a doll, I slipped her into the red dress I had chosen, my hands moving with practiced ease as I styled her hair. Her scent lingered on my fingertips, but I swallowed the frustration burning in my throat and turned away.

Without another word, I stormed off to the security post.

She left right before my eyes.

Got into a car.

And by midnight, she still hadn’t returned.

Anxiety clawed at my chest as I called her again and again.

No answer.

By two in the morning, I dialed once more. This time, a man picked up.

His voice was heavy with exhaustion, with a drowsy satisfaction that made my stomach turn. I knew exactly what he had just finished doing. My heart plummeted.

He let out a low chuckle. "Juliet’s asleep. Who’s this?"

My throat tightened. A long silence stretched between us before I finally forced out two words.

"Her bodyguard."

That seemed to wake him up. Amusement seeped into his voice, slow and deliberate.

"Oh, so you’re Juliet’s bodyguard? She talks about you a lot. Says you’re always meddling where you shouldn’t. Guess she was right."

For the first time, I realized how she spoke about me behind my back.

His smugness was unmistakable.

"Your lady spent the night here. Stop calling. I’ll personally bring her back tomorrow."

He dragged out the word personally, savoring it, before hanging up.

I clenched my jaw and called again. No answer.

The thought of her lying in another man’s arms sent a surge of fury through me. Without thinking, I hurled my phone to the ground. The screen shattered into a thousand pieces, just like the last shred of restraint I had left.

I stood at the entrance all night, hoping, praying, that Juliet would change her mind and come back.

But hope was a foolish thing.

Morning arrived and a familiar car pulled into the driveway.

I stared at the license plate, my mind struggling to process what I was seeing. Then, before I could react, Juliet was carried out in a bridal-style embrace.

Their gazes met, soft, intimate like newlyweds.

When they reached me, they both hesitated. The man lingered, studying me with quiet amusement.

I stepped forward, instinctively reaching for Juliet, but she turned away, dodging my touch.

A low chuckle rumbled from his chest. "It was her first time last night; she’s a little sore. I figured I’d bring her back myself. No need for a security guard’s help."

His tone was light, teasing, as if the entire situation was nothing more than a joke to him.

Juliet buried her face against his chest, looking fragile. Shy.

I let out a short laugh. She tensed instantly as if bracing for what I might say.

"Edmund, don’t bother. Let him carry me."

She was still wearing the red dress I had picked for her yesterday. Now, it was wrinkled, the hem frayed with tiny tears, silent proof of the night she had spent in his arms.

My fists clenched, but I pretended not to catch the meaning behind her words. Stubbornly, I reached for her again.

She met my gaze, defiant, her chin tilted ever so slightly.

"Edmund, go get Young Master Remington a hangover remedy."

The moment I heard his surname, my head snapped up.

I glanced at the license plate once more, and suddenly, everything fell into place.

So this was the man the family had chosen for her.

She had bragged about it before, how her fiancé was leagues above the fake heiress’s match.

Swallowing down the bitter taste in my mouth, I mixed honey with water and carried it to Juliet.

Anger burned beneath my skin, but I didn’t bother knocking.

Inside, they had been tangled up in each other, lost in some intimate moment, but at the sound of the door, they sprang apart, fumbling to straighten their clothes.

Juliet’s cheeks flushed as she yanked the blanket over herself, looking impossibly shy, like a true first-timer.

I had seen her in her most reckless, indulgent moments. I had watched her teeter on the edge of control. But never like this.

For a long moment, I just stood there, frozen, the glass in my hand feeling heavier than it should.

I had met her when she was just an ordinary girl. And when she rose among Highbourne’s elite, I had followed, becoming her shadow, her bodyguard.

Every servant in her house was strikingly attractive. It hadn’t been a coincidence. It took me a while to realize she had done this deliberately.

And yet, I was the one who had lasted the longest by her side.

She once told me I was addictive, different from the pretty boys she had toyed with before.

I had foolishly believed that meant she would choose me.

Now, I knew better.

Noticing I was still standing there, she peeked out from beneath the covers, her lips curling into a playful pout.

"Edmund, get out already."

Then, as if she hadn’t already torn me apart enough, she turned back to Sebastian, her voice dipping into something soft, teasing.

"It was my first time and you were so rough. You need to make it up to me."

Sebastian, lounging at the edge of the bed, slid a hand under the covers, soothing her, right in front of me.

I couldn't bear to listen any longer and shut the door.

Inside, the sounds only grew louder, no longer restrained.

Back at the security post, a few guards exchanged sneers.

They had always resented me for staying by Juliet’s side longer than they ever could. Now that I had been cast aside, they saw no reason to hold back.

Outnumbered, I couldn’t fight them off. My thoughts were still stuck in that room as fists rained down on me. By the time they finally let up, leaving me bruised and swollen, things in Juliet’s room had yet to end.

I returned to the security quarters, stripped off my shirt and began tending to my wounds.

Just as I reached for the medicine, a pair of hands appeared behind me, plucking it from my grasp.

Startled, I turned and found myself face-to-face with Genevieve Radcliffe.

The fake heiress who had stolen Juliet’s place for over twenty years.

She blinked at me playfully, her lips curling into a teasing smile.

"If my sister doesn’t want you, can’t I?"

I flinched, yanking my shirt back on, desperate to put distance between us.

Genevieve had spent over two decades as a wealthy heiress, carrying an air of effortless detachment. Now that her position in the family had grown uncertain, she usually steered clear of conflict with Juliet whenever possible.

This was the first time she had ever taken the initiative to fight for something.

I never expected that something to be me.

"You must be joking, Miss Genevieve."

She didn’t seem offended. Instead, she simply shook the medicine bottle in her hand, her tone light.

"I wouldn’t joke about this. I think you’re great, capable, good-looking, definitely my type."

Though she wasn’t truly an heiress, the confidence ingrained in her over the years remained intact.

I studied her, trying to decipher her motives. Maybe this was just her way of reclaiming something, anything after Juliet had taken so much from her.

Scoffing at myself, I took the medicine from her and sank onto the chair.

"Miss Genevieve, Juliet already has a new target. You don’t need to waste your time on me."

She didn’t argue. Instead, her gaze swept over my small quarters before she turned and left.

By dinnertime, the two who had spent all day locked away finally emerged.

The family welcomed Sebastian with warmth, inviting him to join them at the table.

As they settled into their seats, Sebastian pulled out a chair for Juliet, his every gesture brimming with attentiveness.

Her parents beamed, nodding in approval.

"I’ve always heard that Young Master Remington isn’t like the others in his circle, that he’s loyal. We’ll be at ease entrusting our daughter to you."

The meal unfolded harmoniously, except for my mistake.

Archer Radcliffe, Juliet’s father, had always been aware of my past with her. He usually turned a blind eye, but when I accidentally dropped a glass, my injured hand failing me, his gaze darkened. He didn’t see it as an accident; he saw it as a provocation.

Sebastian, ever the opportunist, seized the moment to taunt me.

"This bodyguard is really dedicated, Uncle Archer. Juliet spent the night at my place and he called all night."

Archer slammed his palm against the table, his face darkening as he pointed at me.

"Get out! A bodyguard has no right to meddle in his master’s affairs!"

I kept my head down, silent. As long as Juliet didn’t order me to leave, I refused to go.

My lack of response only fueled Archer’s rage.

"We can’t afford to keep you! Get lost before you ruin my daughter’s marriage!"

I turned to Juliet.

She didn’t even glance my way, too busy plucking the best cuts of meat for Sebastian, her laughter soft, sweet, indifferent.

The silence stretched until Genevieve finally spoke, her voice calm yet deliberate.

"Dad, why not assign him to protect me instead?"

Archer hesitated, momentarily thrown off by her request.

Juliet, who had been all too focused on Sebastian, finally reacted. Her gaze turned sharp, cutting straight through Genevieve.

"My people are not for you to take. Who do you think you are?"

A flicker of something reckless ignited in my chest.

Juliet still couldn’t let me go.

But her next words sent me plummeting into the abyss.

"Come here and peel shrimp for Young Master Remington."