When Eva reached the ground floor, her phone buzzed again. Elliot Henson. The name flashed relentlessly on the screen.

She didn't hesitate. She declined the call.

A moment later, a message pinged. A single punctuation mark: ?

Eva paused, thumbs hovering over the keyboard. Then she typed a lie, cool and calculated: The rain is torrential. I can't get a cab. I'm running there now. Wait for me.

She hit send. As expected, silence followed.

A bitter smile touched her lips. With a final tap, she added his number to the blacklist. Goodbye, Elliot.

Outside, the ride-hailing car she'd booked in advance was already waiting—dry and warm.

She'd ordered it ages ago, long before she left the room. Back then, she'd been terrified the storm would keep her from reaching him. She'd worried about his chronic gastritis flaring up, terrified his medicine wouldn't work, that she'd be too late to help.

Now, looking back at her frantic concern, the word doormat echoed in her mind.

Perhaps her life had been too comfortable lately, making her soft in the head. Why else would she have been so eager to invite suffering?

Her life hadn't always been easy. When she was ten, a car accident claimed her parents' lives. She was the sole survivor.

The Sullivan family cast her aside. They disliked that she was a girl and branded her a "jinx," making it clear she was unwelcome.

It was her aunt and uncle, the Masons, who took her in.

Amelia couldn't have children, so for over a decade, the couple had loved Eva as their own. They denied her nothing—except Elliot Henson.

Amelia had warned her. The Henson family is a vipers' nest. And Elliot? He doesn't look like a man who can protect you.

Eva hadn't believed it then. She'd defended him at every turn.

Now, the memory of her naivety felt like a slap to the face.

Rain blurred the city lights outside the car window, mirroring the storm settling in her chest.

After getting her injured hand bandaged at a hospital, she took a taxi to a hotel. As she pulled out her phone to pay, a news notification popped up.

#HEAD OF FARLEY GROUP RETURNS MYSTERIOUSLY TODAY#

Below the headline sat a grainy, indistinct photo.

Eva swiped it away and opened her payment app.

She knew a little about the Farley family. The young man her aunt had found—Hudson Farley—carried the prestigious surname but had no inheritance rights. Once she married him, she doubted she'd ever interact with the elusive "person in power" mentioned in the news.

The thought of the arranged marriage no longer caused a ripple of anxiety. Her uncle and aunt had given her everything; it was time she stopped being selfish.

Early the next morning, Eva returned to the Mason residence.

Amelia had already laid out a dossier on the coffee table. Photographs of Hudson Farley spread out like a fan.

He was handsome in a conventional way, radiating the high-spirited energy of a wealthy youth who'd never known hardship. Third among the Farley cousins. Rumor had it he'd just returned from studying abroad and possessed a mild temperament.

He wouldn't inherit the empire, but the Farley name alone ensured a life of luxury. Not a bad deal.

"There's a banquet tonight," Amelia said, her tone businesslike but her eyes watchful. "You'll come with me. It's the perfect opportunity for you two to meet."

She paused, smoothing the hem of her skirt. Then she sighed and dropped the other shoe.

"Eva... there's something else you need to know about Hudson."

The reality of Eva's "good match" became clear. The only reason a woman of her status could climb into a top-tier family like the Farleys was that Hudson Farley was damaged goods.

He'd gotten involved with a nightclub hostess and impregnated her.

The woman had tried to leverage the child into the family, but the Farleys were ruthless. They couldn't allow such a scandal to tarnish their reputation. They'd paid her off to disappear, but were left with a problem: Hudson needed a wife. Specifically, a well-educated, sensible, easily controlled wife to stabilize his image.

"This matter..." Amelia's voice trembled. "If you can't accept it, we'll forget this marriage. Don't worry about the company. Don't blame your aunt... I only just found out the details."

Eva wasn't her biological daughter, but Amelia had loved her fiercely for more than ten years. If the Mason family hadn't been backed into a corner, she never would have suggested such a compromise.

Eva looked at the photos of the smiling young man.

"Aunt Amelia," she said softly, her voice steady. "I can accept it."

Money, status, and a ready-made child? She wouldn't have to go through childbirth, wouldn't have to pretend to be in love. She'd have everything she needed, except affection.

And right now, affection was the last thing she wanted. This marriage was perfect.

Night had fallen, and the banquet was already in full swing.

Perched halfway up the mountain, the Farley estate blazed with light, a beacon of extravagance overlooking Seaview City. Inside, the atmosphere was thick with expensive perfume and old money. Guests brushed shoulders, their conversations a hum of calculated pleasantries and social maneuvering.

Everyone here was either wealthy or noble.

Amelia navigated the crowd, towing Eva behind her. She scanned the room for Hudson, but after a full lap of the ballroom, the Farley family remained conspicuously absent.

"Eva, I need to make a call." Amelia checked her phone. "Wait here. Don't wander off."

"Okay."

Eva retreated to a shadowed corner, away from prying eyes. She had no patience for these events. As a daughter of the Mason family, she knew the script—smile, nod, flatter—but tonight, she was exhausted. Silence was preferable to fake pleasantries.

She waited for what felt like an eternity. Amelia didn't return.

Instead, a man in a crisp uniform approached with a stiff bow. "Miss Sullivan? Mrs. Fletcher is with Madam Farley. I've been asked to escort you to the private villa."

Eva nodded and followed the butler through the manicured gardens to the residence at the back of the estate.

As the heavy oak doors swung open, a man's sneer drifted from the living room, dripping with contempt.

"Why did you settle on Eva Sullivan without asking me?"

The voice was young, petulant, loud. "Everyone in the circle knows she's Elliot's lapdog. I'm not marrying a woman who spent years chasing another man like a desperate shadow. Let whoever wants her take her!"

Lapdog.

Eva's fingers tightened against her palm, but her face remained a porcelain mask. She had learned long ago to armor herself against such words.

The butler cleared his throat loudly, stepping into the room. "Madam, Hudson... Miss Sullivan has arrived."

Hudson scoffed, his face twisted in disdain. He stood, clearly intending to storm out.

"Hudson."

The command cut through the air like a blade of ice.

"Apologize to Miss Sullivan."

From the shadows of the staircase, a tall figure descended. The man's features were carved from cold marble, his jawline sharp and uncompromising. He radiated a chilling authority that seemed to suck the oxygen from the room.

Hudson froze. His arrogance vanished, replaced by visible trembling. He straightened like a soldier facing a firing squad.

"Austin," Hudson murmured, bowing his head in instinctive submission.

Eva's brows lifted slightly. She didn't need an introduction.

Austin Farley. The true power behind the Farley empire. An existence that all of Seaview City feared and respected. The kind of man who dominated headlines just by stepping off a plane.

If he was here, it was undoubtedly to oversee Hudson's marriage.

Eva raised her eyes. Her gaze collided with Austin's.

His eyes were pitch-black, bottomless pools that offered no warmth. The sheer weight of his stare was suffocating. Her heart hammered against her ribs, and she instinctively lowered her head to break the connection.

Austin sank onto the sofa, his silence louder than any shout.

Only then did Mrs. Farley dare to breathe. She rushed forward, taking Eva's hand with feigned warmth, desperate to smooth over the tension.

Hudson seized the opportunity to edge toward the door.

"Did I say you could leave?"

Austin's voice dropped an octave, carrying a terrifying weight.

Hudson's feet glued to the floor. Slowly, he turned back to face Eva.

He opened his mouth to mumble an insincere apology, but the words died in his throat. His eyes widened as he actually looked at her.

Damn. Who the hell said she was plain?

Because Elliot preferred gentle, modest women, Eva had spent years dimming her light. Drab clothes, no makeup—delicate but forgettable.

But she was done with Elliot. And she was done hiding.

Tonight, her features were striking. Eyes bright and sharp, her beauty aggressive and undeniable. She stood with a quiet dignity that made it impossible to look away.

A cold sensation prickled the back of Hudson's neck. His uncle was watching him with the intensity of a predator.

Hudson shivered, snapping back to reality. "I... I'm sorry, Miss Sullivan."

He swallowed hard. Suddenly, this arranged marriage didn't seem like such a burden after all.

Before Hudson Farley could indulge in another second of fantasy, his uncle's voice shattered his delusions.

"Hudson's condition renders him unfit for marriage. Since he is unwilling, the engagement is canceled."

"Uncle, I—"

Hudson froze, panic seizing him. He scrambled to speak, desperate to reverse his mistake. He hadn't expected Eva Sullivan to be stunning—nothing like the rumors of an ugly, aged spinster.

But a single glance from Austin Farley silenced him.

The look was cold, sharp, and absolute. In the Farley family, interrupting an elder was a sin; interrupting Austin was a death wish.

Hudson lowered his gaze, swallowing his rebuttal. A chill ran down his spine, but his mind raced. Fine. Once Uncle leaves, I'll beg Grandma. She dotes on me; she'll agree to let me marry Eva.

"Miss Sullivan, rest assured," Austin said, his voice deep and smooth, commanding the room's attention. "The Farley family takes full responsibility for this debacle. I will give you an explanation."

He looked at her then. His eyes were pitch-black pools, devoid of warmth or ripple, making it impossible to read the thoughts behind them.

Eva met his gaze and felt a sudden weight in her chest. She understood her position clearly: she had no right to refuse, no power to negotiate.

She nodded silently.

A man of Austin Farley's stature wouldn't renege on a public promise. If he said he would handle it, he would. Perhaps she wouldn't have to marry into the Farley family after all, yet could still leverage this "explanation" to solve the Mason family's crisis.

When they left the manor, Austin had the butler personally escort them back to the Mason residence.

The moment they stepped through the door, guilt washed over Eva.

"I'm sorry, Aunt Amelia. This is all my fault. I've humiliated you and Uncle."

In their social circle, her reputation was already in tatters. Now, by association, the Masons would be the subject of ridicule—the family who tried to pawn off their niece on a cripple, only to be rejected.

Thinking back on the last eight years, Eva felt a bitter taste rise in her throat. It was as if she had been living under a curse, blindly stumbling from one disaster to another.

At least I'm awake now, she thought. I just hope it isn't too late.

Amelia sighed, her expression softening as she looked at her niece. "Don't be silly. This isn't your fault. Since Austin Farley promised an explanation, he'll deliver. He's not a man who breaks his word. Now, go upstairs and rest. It's been a long day."

Eva nodded, gathered her skirts, and ascended the stairs, her steps heavy.

For three straight days, silence reigned. There was no news from the Farley family.

Eva didn't get Austin's explanation, but she did receive a call from Elliot Henson.

She had blocked his number, so when his voice grated through a stranger's phone, she paused, momentarily disoriented.

"Eva, what is the meaning of this?"

Eva stood on the terrace, the sea breeze tangling her hair. She gazed at the distant horizon, her expression flat. "The meaning of what, exactly?"

Elliot's voice dripped with annoyance. "I waited for you all night."

Waited to see me broken? Waited to laugh at my misery? He really was dedicated to his cruelty.

Eva's lips curled into a faint, mocking smile. "And why would you be waiting for me?"

"Eva, are you playing games with me?"

The tension in Eva's shoulders released. A strange sense of relief washed over her. "Elliot, we're even. I don't owe you anything anymore."

She didn't give him a chance to respond. She tapped the screen, ending the call, and tossed the phone onto the wicker table.

She looked out toward the continuous mountain range bordering the city, her mind drifting back to the past—to the source of the debt she had just declared paid.

It happened after the car accident. She was ten years old, blind, and recovering in the hospital. The Sullivans had abandoned her there while her aunt and uncle were mid-flight, rushing back to the country.

She had been naive. When a stranger approached her, claiming the Sullivans had sent him to take her to the cemetery to visit her parents, she believed him.

She was taken deep into the mountains, to a dilapidated factory, and tied up alongside a boy slightly older than her. They sat in the dark, waiting for a ransom that would never come.

At first, she held onto hope. But on the second day, the kidnappers grew restless. The Sullivans claimed they couldn't—or wouldn't—pay. The kidnappers decided to cut their losses and dispose of the hostages.

It was that boy who saved her.

When the blade came down, he threw his arm up to block it. The sound of steel tearing into flesh still haunted her nightmares. Taking advantage of the chaos, he grabbed her hand and led her blindly through the woods.

For days, cut off from the world, he protected her. He foraged for food, found water, and never let go of her hand. He was her eyes, her shield, her entire world.

He brought her back to Seaview City alive.

She thought she would never find him again. Until the day of the school sports meet, years later, when she saw a scar on Elliot Henson's arm—identical to the one she had traced with her fingers in the dark.

Knock, knock.

The sound pulled her from her memories.

"Eva? Are you up?" Amelia's voice came through the door, laced with urgency. "The Farleys are here. Get dressed and come down immediately."