Victoria Calloway is the most pampered and radiant woman in the elite society of Dravenia. She's a gorgeous woman by nature—with just a glance from her alluring eyes, she can easily make heads turn.

Everyone claims that the line of suitors attempting to woo Victoria can extend all the way to the moon and back. Unfortunately for them, Victoria never gives them the time of day. That is, until her best friend, Pamela Larkson, decides to place a bet with her.

"Vicky, if you can capture the heart of my youngest uncle, Caden Larkson, you can pick any of my cherished cars from my garage!"

Caden Larkson is the current head of Larkson Capital. He's known for his glacial personality and his disinterest in women. While he carries himself with a noble air, he's also extremely arrogant.

To countless socialites, Caden is the unapproachable man whom they can only admire from afar. Rumors have it that no female lifeforms are capable of approaching him.

But Victoria merely chuckles in return. She has never failed in obtaining whatever she wants in her entire life, after all.

Alas, things don't progress in the direction she expects them to.

On the very day the wager was made, Victoria Calloway ran into Caden Larkson, who had been drugged. Victoria, who already had intentions of approaching him, unintentionally became his antidote by a fortunate coincidence.

After that night, Victoria seemed to have chipped a crack into Caden's perpetually icy facade.

For three years, they shared an intimate relationship. And with each intimate encounter, Victoria sank a little deeper. She began to believe that Caden, revered like a deity by others, belonged to her.

It wasn't until that night that she realized she was wrong. After their moment of passion in the car, she noticed one of Caden's sapphire cufflinks had fallen off. So, she picked it up, intending to bring it to him.

The door to the private room at the end of the hallway was slightly ajar. Just as she was about to push it open, she heard laughter and conversation from inside.

"Fresh from the arms of your lover, Caden? Victoria's usually such an untamed wildcat, and she has no regard for anyone. But how is it that when she's around you, she's all soft and sweet? It makes me want a woman like her too! Just when are you finally going to marry her and bring her home?"

Victoria halted mid-step, her heart tightening inexplicably. Then, she heard that familiar, chillingly calm voice.

"She's just a bedmate. How can I marry her?"

His words were light and airy, yet each word struck like an ice-forged blade, piercing straight into her heart until it was nothing but a mess of flesh and blood.

An eerie silence fell over the room. Clearly, even his closest friends were stunned by the brutally frank label.

After what felt like an eternity, someone cautiously broke the silence. "S-Surely not, Cade? It's been three years… Do you... Do you still have feelings for your first love?"

First love? Victoria's mind buzzed, going completely blank. Caden… had a first love?

She felt as though her very life had been sucked out of her as she stood numbly outside the door, listening as Caden gave a faint, affirmative hum.

"Back when we broke up, she asked for three years. She said she wanted to try seeing other people, and she wanted me to try seeing other people too. And if we still loved each other after that, we'd get back together.

"She's always been insecure and liked kicking up a fuss, so I just went along with what she wanted. Anyway, it's been three years now, and I've done my share of seeing other people."

He paused, and when he spoke again, there was the faintest trace of something unmistakable—quiet, restrained anticipation. "It's about time she came back."

Victoria felt as if she were struck by lightning. Her entire body went cold, and even her fingertips trembled uncontrollably. Those three years of intimacy, countless moments she thought they truly shared a connection, had been nothing more than his experiment? His way of "trying to see others"?

"Then, what about Victoria? Given her fiery temperament, if she finds out—"

Before the person speaking could finish their sentence, Victoria pushed open the door with a bang.

Everyone in the room was startled, and they all turned toward the door in unison.

Victoria stood there, her face frighteningly pale, a stark contrast to her burning red eyes. She ignored everyone else. Her gaze was locked, unblinking, on the man seated at the head of the table.

Caden sat there in his impeccably tailored suit, posture straight, demeanor composed. Her sudden appearance drew not a flicker of surprise or panic from him. He was just as unshakable and calm as always.

And it was that very composure that felt like the final handful of salt ground into her lacerated heart. Because if he had cared for her even a little, he could never have reacted this way.

She walked up to him, staring at the face she had loved for three years, her voice hoarse. "Caden, don't you have anything to say to me?"

He lifted his eyes, meeting her gaze calmly.

"There's nothing to say. It's exactly what you heard. We were bedmates. I always thought you understood that clearly.

"Pam made a bet with you that if you could win me over, you could pick any luxury car from her garage. Well, if the cars aren't enough…"

He reached into the inner pocket of his suit jacket and drew out a black bank card. He pushed it gently across the coffee table toward her.

"Here's a hundred million dollars. Consider it payment for three years of being available whenever I need you. From now on, we're done."

With that, he stood up to leave.

But the instant he passed by her, Victoria suddenly reached out and seized his wrist in a death grip. Her hand was freezing cold, knuckles white from the force.

Caden halted. Then, he heard Victoria, someone who had always been so proud, use every ounce of her strength to force out each shattered, yet painfully clear word into the silent room.

"But… I love you! I've fallen for you, Caden!"

She didn't even know when exactly she had fallen for him.

Perhaps it was that winter morning when she couldn't be bothered to put on shoes, and he crouched down, his warm palm wrapping around her icy ankle as he gently slipped the slippers onto her feet.

Perhaps it was after her appendicitis surgery, when she woke disoriented with pain, and the first thing she saw was him by her bedside, faint shadows of fatigue under his eyes.

Or perhaps, it was all those late nights when he came back from business dinners, carrying the faint scent of alcohol, but he would still remember her fear of thunder and draw her into his arms.

All those fragments of tiny, ordinary moments had quietly built into a raging tide that drowned her completely. And now, he was telling her, so casually, that she had only ever been a bedmate?

How utterly cruel, Caden!

Just as Caden was about to speak, his phone buzzed. He took it out, and the screen lit up with a new message preview that flashed clearly in Victoria's line of sight.

"It's been three years, Caden. I've tried, but you're still the only one I love. Let's get back together."

In that instant, Victoria felt her entire world collapse.

Caden's gaze lingered on the screen for a few seconds. Then, slowly, deliberately, he pried away her fingers that were clamped around his wrist.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I can't say the same."

With those final words, he turned and walked away without a backward glance.

Caden had made it clear that he didn't feel for Victoria romantically. So for the past three years, she had been the only one who'd foolishly invested real emotions into a play that he'd put up single-handedly.

She stood frozen in place, staring down at her empty hand. The warmth of Caden's wrist still lingered, but now it burned like a branding iron against her skin.

The very next second, she snatched an expensive bottle of whiskey from the table and smashed it to the floor with all her might.

Everything in her line of sight—glasses, fruit platters, decorations—anything that could be broken became a sacrifice to her agony.

The people in the private room were stunned into silence. No one dared step forward to stop her.

She didn't know how long it lasted. Eventually, her strength gave out. She stood there, eyes hollow, face streaked with tears, yet a low, broken laugh escaped her lips. She had no recollection of how she even left the club.

Outside, the night wind hit her wet cheeks, cold and sharp. She brushed the tears off her face roughly, flagged down a taxi, and rasped, "Follow that car up ahead."

She had to see for herself who exactly this first love whom he carried in his heart for three years, the one she could never measure up to, was.

The taxi driver, noticing the state she was in, asked no questions and simply stepped on the accelerator to catch up with the car up ahead.

Caden, who was always so composed and drove with measured precision, was noticeably speeding tonight. Was he really that eager to see his past flame?

The car finally stopped at the arrivals level of an international airport.

Victoria paid the fare, stumbled out, and hid behind a pillar.

She watched as Caden stood at the exit. Then, a woman in a flowing white dress, gentle and delicate in bearing, emerged, pulling a suitcase behind her.

When Victoria saw the woman's face, she felt as if lightning had struck her twice over. It wasn't just because Caden opened his arms the instant the woman rushed toward him, catching her steadily and lowering his head to press a tender kiss to her hair with such tenderness.

But rather, it was because the woman he held so preciously in his embrace was none other than Cassandra Calloway—Victoria's so-called older sister, the person she despised most in this world, and the one she never wanted anything to do with.

Years ago, not even six months after Victoria's mother, Eunice Monroe, died in a car crash, her father, Hugh Calloway, had brought another woman home. That woman, Marjorie Cole, came with a daughter three years older than Victoria, and she was Cassandra.

Hugh had explained that Marjorie was his first love and that Cassandra was his biological daughter. If Eunice hadn't forcibly taken him away back then, he never would have let his pregnant first love leave him.

How ridiculously absurd that was.

Victoria knew the truth better than anyone else.

Back when Hugh was starting his business and desperate for funds, when he was barely able to afford meals, he had been the one who went to Eunice, who had pursued him for years. He promised to marry her in exchange for the Monroe family's investment.

So, Eunice gave him the money and all of her love. And eventually, in that fatal car crash, she even gave her life to push him out of harm's way.

Yet, what came of it? Eunice's body had barely gone cold when Hugh used her wedding gift and inheritance to marry his so-called first love.

Caden could have loved anyone. Why did it have to be Cassandra?

Victoria bit down hard on her lower lip until she tasted blood, but she didn't even notice.

In her moment of shock, Caden had already taken Cassandra's suitcase and wrapped an arm around her waist, guiding her toward the parking lot.

As if possessed, Victoria hailed another cab and continued following them.

Due to the close proximity, she could see clearly through the window how Caden turned to speak softly to Cassandra in the car ahead.

He even reached over, with natural familiarity, to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. That kind of meticulous tenderness was something Victoria had never received in all their three years together.

She felt as though her heart were being crushed slowly between millstones, the pain so sharp she found it almost impossible to breathe.

She was still staring ahead, vision blurred by tears, when disaster struck at the next intersection.

Screeching brakes and the sound of impact tore through the night.

The taxi Victoria was in slammed into the car in front without warning, and then it was violently rear-ended by the vehicle behind with a deafening bang.

The massive impact hurled Victoria forward. Her forehead smashed against the back of the front seat. Agonizing pain exploded through her skull as warm blood instantly poured down, clouding her sight.

Amid the chaos and screams, through the shattered window, she saw the door of the familiar car swing open.

Caden stepped out first. He hurried around to the passenger side, carefully lifted Cassandra out, and cradled her in his arms. He examined her for injuries, brows knitted tightly, his face filled with unmistakable pain.

Holding Cassandra, he turned to leave the scene. But his steps halted briefly, and his gaze, by sheer chance, locked with Victoria's. She was trapped in the mangled backseat of the taxi, bloody and broken.

In his eyes, which were always calm and unruffled, she caught a fleeting flash of clear shock. But it vanished in an instant.

Cassandra, nestled in his arms, seemed to sense his brief pause. In her soft, feeble voice, she murmured, "Caden, what's wrong? Did you see someone you know? I'm fine. It's just a small scrape. If it's someone you recognize, you should go check on them… I heard a taxi was hit really badly…"

After a few seconds of silence, Caden looked away from Victoria. "No, I don't know them. They are of no importance."

With that, he held Cassandra tighter and strode away from the wreckage without a backward glance.

Watching his resolute retreat, Victoria wanted to laugh, but tears mixed with blood streamed down her face.

Of no importance. So after all these years, he had only ever viewed her as someone of no importance.

When Victoria finally woke up, she found herself in a hospital. A nurse was adjusting the IV drip on the back of her hand.

When she saw that Victoria had woken up, the nurse said, "Ms. Calloway, you're finally awake. Your injuries are quite serious, so you'll need to be hospitalized for observation. You should also contact your family so someone can settle the medical bills."

Victoria stared blankly at the ceiling, offering no response at all.

The nurse repeated herself, "Ms. Calloway…"

"The medical bills have been taken care of," a low, achingly familiar male voice sounded from the doorway.

Victoria's head snapped toward the door. There stood Caden, impeccably dressed in a black suit.

The nurse glanced between them, then quietly excused herself and left the room.

Caden stepped inside. His gaze swept over the bandages on her body before he reached out, as though to touch her forehead.

But Victoria turned away sharply to avoid his touch. "Mr. Larkson, you are a busy man. Why trouble yourself with visiting someone who is of no importance?"

Caden's hand stilled midair.

"Would anyone else come for you if I hadn't?"

The words landed like the sharpest blade, slicing straight into the deepest wound she carried.

Who else did she have, indeed? Eunice was long gone, Hugh had always favored his new family, and Marjorie was full of pretense. That house had long ceased to be her home.

All Victoria could do was put on an arrogant and defiant front, pretending she needed no one and cared for nothing.

For three years, it had been Caden who appeared every time she was in need. He had let her grow accustomed to relying on him, letting her mistakenly believe she had found a safe harbor. And now, he was the one shoving her back into the abyss with his own hands.

Her heart was numb with pain. "Even if no one comes, I don't need you. You said it yourself—we're over! Mr. Larkson, I'm not that pathetic. Since you said that you don't have feelings for me, I'm certainly not going to throw myself at you shamelessly!"

She drew a shaky breath, clinging to the last shreds of her pride, and lashed out without thinking. "You didn't actually believe I was serious about having feelings for you, did you? I was just talking nonsense.

"You saw me as a bedmate, and I saw you as nothing more than a vibrator! Your skills were average at best! Once I'm better, there's no doubt I'll be looking for a better, younger one!"

Caden frowned almost imperceptibly, seeing Victoria pretending to be fierce, though her eyes were red-rimmed with unshed tears.

Just then, a nurse hurried in. "Mr. Larkson, Ms. Cassandra's done with her checkup. She's been asking for you."

Victoria reacted almost instantaneously, bristling at him and saying, "Go! Go to your precious first love, then! I don't need you here!"

Caden looked at her in silence for several long seconds. When he finally spoke, his tone was distant. "I came to stay with you for one reason only. You're Pam's best friend, and she's asked me to look after you."

Victoria couldn't hold back a laugh. It shook her whole body, tugging painfully at her wounds, yet it was nothing compared to the agony in her chest.

She stopped laughing, lifting her tear-streaked face, her gaze icy and shattered. "Don't you worry, Caden. I'm not so delusional as to think that you'd be here for any other reason."

Caden felt his heart clench. Something flickered in his deep gaze—something faint and fleeting, gone before she could grasp it.

This was the first time he had ever seen Victoria cry. In the past, even when he pushed her to her limits in bed, only her eyes would redden before she would bite her lip until it bled, refusing to let even a single tear fall.

Now, seeing her tear-streaked face, he couldn't help but frown even more. His Adam's apple bobbed ever so slightly, as if he was about to say something. But in the end, he said nothing. He simply turned and followed the nurse out of the room.

Watching his resolute departure, Victoria could no longer hold it in and finally collapsed back onto the bed, letting silent tears soak into the pillow.

She thought she would cry for a long time, but strangely, the tears dried up quickly. All that remained was a dead, icy stillness.

In the days that followed, she stayed alone in the hospital, managing by herself. She suffered the pain of having her bandages changed, which made her break out in a cold sweat, and she also put up with tasteless meals all alone.

Occasionally, she would overhear nurses whispering in the hallway about how fortunate Cassandra, who was in the VIP room next door, was. She heard them talking about how attentive Caden was, feeding her, accompanying her through the night, and treating her like she was his most precious treasure.

Once, as she passed that room, the door was ajar. Through the crack, she saw Caden seated at the bedside, carefully peeling an apple while Cassandra leaned against his shoulder, smiling softly.

The sight burned in her eyes, the pain blinding. Her heart seized and twisted violently. But she did not cry.

Victoria's greatest strength had always been her ability to love fiercely and to let go of it completely when the time came. From that day on, she swore she would never shed another tear for Caden.

The first thing she did after being discharged was apply for a visa.

She couldn't bear to spend another second in this city anymore.