After that incident, Ivan indeed stopped associating with those people and was very respectful of her boundaries in their relationship. Over time, Alyssa gradually forgot about it.

Looking back now, the rumors of his playboy past didn’t come out of nowhere. Perhaps he hadn’t directed those tendencies toward her, but what about others? Was Monica the first?

A wave of nausea washed over her, goosebumps prickling her skin. Ivan had lied to her yet again—this time not just with empty promises, but with something filthy.

Returning to her bedside, Alyssa pulled out her diary and carefully recorded the third and fourth betrayals.

Monica’s messages had stopped coming. No doubt the two of them were too engrossed in their games to bother with her.

Closing her diary, she opened an app on her phone to manage her daily messages. One private message stood out.

[Congratulations on your upcoming wedding with the person you love! But I have to ask, will you still update your relationship series?]

Alyssa didn’t respond. Scrolling down, she found more messages asking the same question.

Years ago, when online storytelling began to surge in popularity, Alyssa had seized the opportunity to share her and Ivan’s love story. The serialized posts chronicled every detail of their journey together.

The stark contrast between their backgrounds—an ordinary girl and a man from a wealthy family—had captivated readers. Early on, some skeptics mocked her, calling it “a Cinderella fantasy written on her deathbed.”

But when their relationship became public, and she confirmed the story was autobiographical, the derision transformed into widespread admiration. When she announced her engagement recently, her comment section had been flooded with heartfelt congratulations from fans.

Now, though, the praise felt hollow.

She knew her fans cherished the raw sincerity of her story. But now, she couldn’t bring herself to perpetuate the lie.

After a long moment of hesitation, she posted an announcement.

[This account will cease updates permanently starting today. All previous content will be deleted soon. Thank you to everyone who supported and enjoyed my work. Perhaps we’ll meet again someday, somewhere.]

Ignoring the immediate influx of private messages asking for an explanation, she began deleting the posts one by one. There were thousands.

With each deletion, scenes from her relationship with Ivan replayed in her mind. Once, his love for her had been real. Now, his infidelity was just as real.

Midway through her task, the door suddenly burst open.

Ivan stormed in, his presence cold and intense, his whole body trembling. "Alyssa, why are you deleting the content from that account?"

Alyssa froze. She had never told Ivan about the account. How did he know?

Looking him straight in the eye, she asked calmly, “When did you find out about this account?”

His face went pale, his gaze faltering. After a long pause, he finally admitted, “I found it while I was pursuing you.”

“But that’s not important,” he quickly added, his voice tinged with grievance. “What matters is that this account records our love story. It’s precious. Why are you deleting it?”

There was something in his tone—a mix of hurt and indignation—that made her uneasy.

So he had known about the account while he was chasing her. That meant he had seen all her vulnerabilities and doubts laid bare.

Had everything he’d done after that been genuine? Or carefully calculated?

Alyssa didn’t dare delve too deeply into the truth.

Swallowing her pain, she suppressed her emotions and looked at him again, her expression calm and composed.

“There’s no special reason,” she said evenly. “I’ve been too busy to keep up with it, and it’s been weighing on my mind. Deleting it will be one less thing to worry about.”

Hearing her response, Ivan breathed a sigh of relief. He stepped forward, pulling Alyssa into a tight embrace, resting his head on her shoulder.

“Let’s keep it, okay? These are the records of our love. If you don’t have time to manage it, I can find someone to take care of the account for you.”

“Just think—when we’re old, sitting by the lake, looking back at these memories, it’ll make us so happy.”

He was still weaving dreams of their future together, completely unaware that he had already destroyed it with his own hands.

Alyssa mocked him silently in her heart, mentally marking this as the fifth betrayal. Outwardly, she nodded in agreement, knowing that if she didn’t, Ivan would become suspicious. All she could do now was pray he would use up all eight of his chances quickly so she could finally walk away.

Breaking free from his embrace, she sneezed lightly and feigned curiosity.

“Where did you go just now? Why is there such a chill clinging to you?”

Ivan immediately looked aggrieved, like a puppy seeking comfort. He sighed.

“There was an urgent issue at the office, so I had to go out and handle it. It’s such a pity—I didn’t get to hold my baby while sleeping tonight.”

“But you’re my top priority. The moment I received your message, I dropped everything and rushed back. Nothing is more important than you.”

His affectionate words flowed effortlessly, accompanied by an Oscar-worthy performance. No wonder he had fooled her for so many years.

In the days that followed, Ivan took her casual remark about being “busy” to heart. He personally handled all the arrangements for their upcoming wedding. When the wedding planners came to discuss details at their home, he suggested various ideas that catered to her preferences—everything from the color scheme of the venue and nighttime fireworks to the type of flowers and even the texture of the carpet to ensure it wouldn’t trip her up.

Alyssa occasionally came downstairs to observe, only to be swept into his arms, fussed over, and fed fruit. The wedding planning team often cast her envious glances, commenting, “President McCartney and Miss Saunders share such a beautiful relationship. His love for her is written all over his face.”

“Miss Saunders, you’re so lucky. Men like President McCartney—handsome, wealthy, and devoted—are rare. He’ll surely make a great father someday, too.”

Hearing this, Ivan furrowed his brows, a hint of disapproval in his expression.

“You’ve got it wrong. I’m the lucky one—lucky that Alyssa chose me.”

“As for children, that’s entirely up to her. She’s afraid of pain, and I would never force her.”

A wave of flattery followed his words, but no one noticed Alyssa’s indifferent expression throughout, as if she were merely an outsider.

After sitting with them for a while, she found the noise unbearable and quietly retreated to her room.

An hour later, Ivan entered the room, wrapping his arms around her and acting spoiled.

“Aly, there’s a friend’s birthday party tonight. Will you come with me? I want to introduce you to the people in my circle.”

Alyssa had never liked such occasions. Even after years with Ivan, she still felt out of place among his social circle.

Just as she was about to decline, Ivan nuzzled into her embrace, his eyes shimmering with faux tears.

“Please, Aly. Everyone else will be bringing their partners. If I go alone, I’ll look so pitiful.”

The words she was about to say caught in her throat. After a moment’s hesitation, she reminded herself that she hadn’t left him entirely yet. For now, she still had to keep up appearances.

Seeing her nod in agreement, Ivan’s face lit up with joy. He waved his hand, and a professional styling team filed into the room.

Gorgeous, expensive jewelry and designer outfits dazzled her. Alyssa didn’t resist, allowing the team to work on her. Occasionally, she nodded to indicate her approval, though her interest was minimal.

When they arrived at the party, hand in hand, all eyes turned to them.

There was no denying that Ivan had never skimped on money when it came to her. If she cared only about wealth, she could easily turn a blind eye to everything that had happened recently. But she didn’t. What she sought was love and affection.

Ivan held her hand as he greeted various guests. Whenever someone asked about her identity, he would answer without hesitation, “My beloved, Alyssa Saunders. Also, my fiancée.”

He was attentive to her every move. When people offered her drinks, he would intercept them. “She doesn’t drink. I’ll take her place.”

He was meticulous to the point that even when she shifted her foot slightly, he noticed immediately, his voice full of concern, “Are your heels uncomfortable?”

Without waiting for her reply, he carried her to a sofa, removed her shoes, and began massaging her feet. He seemed oblivious to how such a gesture might appear, given his status.

Jealous glances were cast their way from all around, but Alyssa felt nothing but unease.

To everyone else, his actions screamed love and devotion. But only she knew the truth—he had changed. That knowledge felt stifling.

Pulling her feet away, Alyssa said lightly, “I’m fine now. Go ahead and talk to them. I’ll just sit here for a while.”

Ivan hesitated but eventually relented under her insistence. While he engaged a group of business associates in conversation, his eyes frequently darted back to her, as if afraid she might vanish if left unattended.

Just as he was finishing, a woman stepped into his path, holding a glass of wine. “President McCartney, I’d like to propose a toast.”

Her posture was deliberate, accentuating her curvaceous figure. But Ivan’s expression remained cold as he declined her offer.

Alyssa observed the scene from afar, feeling a pang she couldn’t quite describe.

So, he could say no. Then why couldn’t he say no to Monica?

The thought puzzled her, and she decided it wasn’t worth pondering anymore.

Some guests, seeing her sitting alone, approached her, attempting to strike up a conversation. She responded perfunctorily at first, but as more people came, her patience waned.

Rising from her seat without a word, she headed for the exit.

Ivan, who had been keeping an eye on her the entire time, caught up quickly. “Are you tired, Aly? Let me take you home.”

“No need. You stay and handle your business. I can manage on my own,” Alyssa replied, trying to withdraw her hand from his grasp. But his grip remained firm.

“The driver didn’t come with us. I can’t let you go back alone. I’ll take you.” His tone left no room for argument, so she didn’t press further and silently got into the passenger seat.

They had only driven halfway when his phone began to ring incessantly. He glanced at the screen and rejected the call. But the caller was persistent, trying again and again.

By the tenth call, Ivan shot her a quick glance, then answered, this time holding the phone to his ear without enabling the speaker.

The sharp sound of brakes suddenly filled the air as he pulled the car over to the side of the road.

Alyssa watched his expression shift from calm to alarmed, a rare sight for her. Curiosity got the better of her, and she asked, “What happened?”

“Nothing,” he replied, feigning nonchalance. “It’s just Peter. He’s upset I left early and is threatening to end our friendship if I don’t go back.”

Peter was the birthday host for tonight’s event.

Though Ivan’s words seemed plausible, his uneasy expression told another story. Alyssa suspected this had less to do with Peter and more to do with Monica.

Ignoring his protests, she got out of the car and shut the door behind her.

“Go back. Don’t let this ruin your friendships. I’ll be fine on my own.”

After so many years together, how could she not recognize that his heart was tipping further away from her?

Without sparing him another glance, Alyssa walked away. Her shoes rubbed painfully against her heels, but she didn’t stop, counting silently in her head.

This was the sixth time.