The sudden heat startled me out of my thoughts.

When I blinked my eyes open, someone was holding me from behind. Dorian’s arms were firm around my waist, his chest warm against my back. His breath skimmed the curve of my ear as he spoke softly, almost apologetically.

“About last night… I know I wasn’t there,” he murmured. “Work piled up, that’s all. Let me make it right today. How about we go out later?”

Before I could answer, his lips brushed my cheek in a gentle, lingering kiss—the kind that used to melt me. Then he slipped something cold and smooth into my palm.

I glanced down. An emerald pendant rested there, its deep green surface catching the light.

“I owe you more than an apology for forgetting our anniversary,” he continued as he clasped it around my neck. “After we’re married, I’ll finally take you to the Maldives. You’ve dreamed about it for years.”

My lips curved into a faint smile, but my throat felt too tight to speak.

He stepped away and returned with a breakfast tray balanced carefully in his hands—scrambled eggs, toasted bread, a glass of juice. “Look, I even cooked,” he said, clearly proud of himself as he set it down in front of me.

If this were the past—back when we lived in that shabby little apartment and he saved coins just to buy me a cheap ring—I would have been overjoyed. I would have thrown my arms around him, telling him he was all I needed.

But now?

I just went through the motions. I poked at the food. I smiled when he looked at me. I pretended everything was fine.

Because I could feel it in my bones—our love had already shattered.

Then his phone rang.

The name glowing on the screen was one I recognized instantly. Yvette.

He glanced at me once before answering. “It’s business,” he said casually. “I’ll see you tonight. Put on the outfit I sent.”

And just like that, he was gone, coat in hand, his familiar scent lingering in the room like a memory I couldn’t hold onto anymore.

The silence afterward felt unbearable.

I shoved the tray aside and walked to the wardrobe. I opened every drawer, every hidden corner, dragging out the relics of our past—handwritten letters, cheap souvenirs, the flimsy ring he once bought while juggling five jobs, dried flowers from days when we couldn’t afford bouquets.

I gathered them all into a box. They had once meant everything. Now, they only reminded me of how much I had lost.

I slid the box out of sight. When I left, none of this would come with me.

That evening, I dressed in the gown Dorian had chosen and fastened the emerald necklace around my neck. I styled my hair the way he liked, painted my lips the shade he always complimented. I told myself it would just be the two of us tonight—that maybe he was finally trying again.

But the moment I entered the restaurant, my heart sank.

Yvette was already seated.

“Well, this is awkward,” she said with a bright smile. “Same dress, same necklace. Looks like we have identical taste.”

My voice barely came out. “Why are you here?”

Dorian cut in before she could answer. “There’s a client meeting tonight. Yvette happened to be nearby, so she joined us. She was hungry anyway.”

“I thought this was supposed to be our dinner,” I said quietly.

He sighed in annoyance. “Don’t start, Camille. I’ve had a long day. Sit down and eat.”

So I did.

The dishes were served. Out of habit, I waited for him to place my plate in front of me like he used to—but instead, he set it in front of Yvette, smiling as he adjusted it for her.

Then came the seafood platter.

The smell made my stomach twist. A memory flashed—years ago, my throat closing, my body breaking out in hives, Dorian sitting beside my hospital bed after I’d nearly died from an allergic reaction.

How could he forget something like that?

He looked at me, confused. “Why aren’t you touching your food? Isn’t this what you like?”

Yvette leaned closer, smirking. “It’s my favorite too.”

“I can’t…” I whispered. “I’m allergic.”

But his phone rang again, and he stepped away without hearing me.

Yvette didn’t waste the chance.

“You really don’t get it, do you?” she said quietly. “He’s turning you into me. Same clothes, same jewelry—so he doesn’t feel guilty about settling. Your necklace isn’t even real. Mine is. He gives me the originals—you get the knockoffs.”

I said nothing.

She smiled coldly. “Do yourself a favor and disappear. You don’t belong in our world.”

I met her eyes. “Then I’ll leave.”

I stood, but she suddenly cried out, kicking her chair and tipping her bowl.

“My leg—she burned me!” Yvette screamed.

Dorian rushed back instantly. “What happened?!”

“She lost her temper and hurt me,” Yvette sobbed.

“That’s not true!” I protested.

He glared at me. “She makes a living with her legs, Camille! And you think you can just ruin them?!”

Then he grabbed the hot plate and pressed it against my thigh.

The pain was unbearable. I screamed.

“Now you know how it feels,” he said coldly.

I collapsed as he carried Yvette away, her face buried in his shoulder—smiling at me over his arm.

And I was left there alone.

My hands shook as I wound the gauze around my thigh, wrapping it again and again until the sharp sting faded into a dull, pulsing ache.

When I finally finished, I lifted my eyes to the mirror. The emerald necklace still hung at my collarbone, glittering cruelly against skin that had cried itself raw. My eyes were swollen, my lashes clumped with dried tears, and my leg was buried beneath layers of white cloth—like a secret I could never truly cover.

In that moment, the truth settled over me with terrifying clarity.

I couldn’t stay here any longer.

I pushed myself upright, ignoring the protest in my muscles, and walked straight to the closet. There were no tears this time. I dragged my suitcases out and began filling them without hesitation. Then I gathered everything else—the letters he once wrote, the photos of our happier days, the tiny mementos I had guarded like treasures—and dumped them in a heap on the floor.

Instead of boxing them up like before, I lit a match.

The fire swallowed our past in seconds, ink bleeding into ash, paper curling into nothingness.

I was finished.

But just as I lifted my luggage, the front door flew open.

Dorian stormed in, eyes darting between the charred remains on the carpet and the row of packed suitcases at my feet.

“What the hell happened here?” he barked. “Why are our things burned? What are you packing for? And why does it smell like smoke in here?”

I looked at him calmly. “I donated them.”

His brows drew together. “Donated? And the bags? Where are you planning to go?”

“A vacation,” I said faintly.

“A vacation?” he repeated sharply. “Our wedding is around the corner and you’re talking about trips without telling me? Is this because of yesterday? Camille, I already apologized.”

Sorry. That word again.

He raked a hand through his hair and started pacing. “You know her family is backing the merger. I couldn’t embarrass her—if she loses face, the deal collapses. I’m doing this for our future. For us.”

My gaze drifted to his legs—the same ones that once knelt before me when he had nothing but broken promises and hope in his eyes.

Now they had walked me straight into heartbreak.

“Please,” he said more gently, reaching for my fingers. “Just give me a little more time. Once this is over, I’ll put you first. I swear.”

I couldn’t speak. My chest felt packed with stones.

Then his eyes fell to my bare hand. “Where’s your ring?”

I stiffened. “I took it off. It doesn’t feel right anymore.”

Something unreadable crossed his face before he pulled me into a hollow hug. “We’ll go to the auction tomorrow. I’ll buy you a better one. Whatever you like.”

I nodded, numb. Just a few more days.

That night, I opened my bank app.

A new transaction glowed on the screen—twenty million dollars.

From Vivienne.

The bargain was complete.

The next morning, I stepped outside and froze. Yvette was already seated beside Dorian in the front of his car.

“Oh—sorry,” she said lightly. “His mother insisted I tag along today. She said I’d be more suitable for something like this. You’ve never been to an auction before, right?”

Dorian met my eyes in the mirror. “It’s business again. Don’t overthink it.”

So I climbed into the back seat, staring out the tinted window. I remembered how Dorian once dreamed about buying us a tiny car. We’ll drive everywhere together, he had said, smiling like the future was ours.

That future had vanished.

At the venue, cameras flashed endlessly. Dorian and Yvette stood close, laughing easily, looking every bit the perfect couple. Reporters whispered their names with awe.

When someone asked who I was, Dorian replied smoothly, “Just a friend.”

The words tore straight through me.

Later, Yvette leaned toward me and murmured, “See? You were never meant to be here.”

I clenched my dress so tightly my nails bit into my skin.

Eventually, I stood, intending to leave quietly—but something on display stopped me cold.

A gold locket.

It lay on velvet, glowing softly under the lights. It was identical to my grandmother’s—the one I sold long ago to pay for Dorian’s medical bills.

He had once sworn to buy it back for me.

Trembling, I reached out—

“Thief!” a woman suddenly screamed, shoving me. “She’s stealing!”

The noise around me felt like blades slicing through my skin.

“I didn’t take anything,” I pleaded, gripping the golden locket so tightly my fingers went numb. “I only picked it up to check it. It’s mine—it was my grandmother’s. I planned to buy it. I swear.”

My explanation vanished beneath mocking laughter.

“She’s lost her mind,” someone jeered.

“Look at her—acting like she belongs,” another voice scoffed.

The crowd closed in, eyes full of contempt. Heat flooded my face as whispers became accusations. Then someone gestured toward the jewelry I was wearing.

“Those stones aren’t even real!”

A woman seized my wrist and tore off the bracelet Dorian once bought for me. “Cheap copy,” she said, tossing it away as if it were trash.

Then something hit my shoulder.

A roll of bread.

Next came wine splashing down my dress. Then plates, napkins, scraps—whatever they could throw. The crowd rained humiliation on me until I felt smaller than dust.

Through it all, I searched desperately for Dorian. I scanned every face, praying I’d see him stepping forward, defending me, stopping the madness.

He never did.

He stood there like I was a stranger.

That was the part that broke me.

They forced me out of the building, shoving and striking until I collapsed on the pavement outside. My gown was ruined, my body aching, and my heart… beyond repair.

No one followed. No one helped.

As I lay there, another memory cut through me—years ago, when a vendor falsely accused me of stealing bread at a market. Back then, Dorian had shielded me with his own body, shouting for everyone to back off, proving my innocence.

But tonight he had turned away.

We no longer belonged to the same world.

I staggered to my feet and limped through the streets until I saw the faint glow of a pawnshop sign. My hands trembled as I removed the necklace, the rings, every piece of jewelry he had ever given me.

“Please,” I told the clerk softly. “Tell me the truth. Are these genuine?”

He studied them carefully, then slid them back toward me. “They’re replicas. None of it has value.”

My legs nearly gave out.

That was when everything finally collapsed. His love, his vows, the symbols I treasured—they were all lies.

I left with nothing in my hands and nothing in my heart.

From there, I went straight to the police station. “I want to file a complaint about what happened tonight,” I said, forcing calm into my voice. But even as I spoke, I knew it wouldn’t change anything. Their world didn’t answer to people like me.

Later that night, I was barely lying down when the door burst open.

Dorian charged in, rage blazing across his face. Before I could react, he slapped me so hard I fell back onto the bed.

“Have you lost your mind?” he shouted. “You think you can accuse those people after trying to steal from them?”

“I didn’t steal anything!” I cried. “That locket was my grandmother’s—”

“Enough!” he snapped. “You don’t stand a chance in court. You don’t have the money or the power. Drop it now before you disgrace me again. You’re nothing but dead weight. I should have left you rotting in that slum apartment.”

Tears spilled freely now. For an instant, something wavered in his eyes—but it vanished just as quickly.

Then Vivienne appeared in the doorway.

“Dorian,” she said calmly. “Don’t be so cruel. She’s clearly humiliated.”

She approached me with a smile that never touched her eyes. “Cancel the report, Camille. I’ll pay for the locket. You can have it back.”

Dorian scoffed. “Stop encouraging her. She’ll start thinking she deserves things.”

He turned back to me. “Embarrass me again and there won’t be a wedding.” Then he left.

I didn’t move until Vivienne bent down and yanked my hair, forcing my head up.

“Disappear before the ceremony,” she whispered. “If you bring shame to this family again, you’ll regret it.”

She shoved me to the floor and walked away.

Hours later, my phone vibrated in the darkness.

With blurred vision, I picked it up—hoping it was my friend.

It wasn’t.

A man’s unfamiliar voice came through. “Miss Camille, this is Landon. Dorian’s biggest competitor. How would you feel about becoming my wife instead?”