Love is separated by mountains and seas, and long separation does not bring sorrow

Everyone in Northwood knew Maria as the woman who had betrayed William.

Though she was the family’s adopted daughter, she had seduced her own nephew, William, dragging him to bed and shattering the goodwill between their families.

Then, just as both sides were reluctantly coming to terms with the situation, she accidentally caused the death of William’s father, stole a fortune, and vanished.

The once-glorious family lay in ruins because of her.

Five years later, the woman who had once driven William to the brink of tearing Northwood apart was now draped over some stranger’s chest, planning her own funeral.

“Buy the plot next to my sister’s. The urn has to be Barbie pink. And don’t forget to stud it with diamonds.”

As her friend, Scott couldn’t take it. “Maria, it’s early-stage lung cancer. It’s treatable. It’s just money, isn’t it? William has plenty. If you just… apologized, he’d forgive you.”

He never understood these two stubborn souls. “It was all a misunderstanding. If you just explained, wouldn’t that settle it?”

Maria took a slow drag of her cigarette and said nothing.

Inside, everything was bitterness.

How could she explain?

Back then, Samuel had been working undercover in the Syndicate. Drugged, hooked, he’d betrayed the operation and sold out his own wife—Kimberly, another undercover agent. In the end, Maria had been the one to pull the trigger.

She had seized that moment, taken over their mission, and used the stolen money as her ticket to stay embedded in the Syndicate.

Forget that Samuel had always been William’s hero. She was the one who had killed his father.

How could she, his father’s killer, ever be with him?

Samuel’s last words still echoed in her mind: *Take these secrets to the grave. My son could never accept his hero father was a traitor.*

She could still see his face, hear his voice. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t tell William.

Bitterness churned inside her. Maria exhaled a cloud of smoke. “It’s all in the past.”

Too much stood between them.

Loving each other was a luxury she could no longer afford.

“The past? Then why are you still by his side?”

Maria didn’t answer.

Because the Syndicate had William in its sights.

Even though the organization was mostly dismantled, the remnants were thirsty for revenge.

William, as family to undercover agents, was the perfect target.

She had to protect him.

Swallowing the bitterness, Maria forced a smile. “Because I’m a bad woman. Bad women survive by conning men out of their money.”

“So I send you for medicine, and you come here to pick up a man? Auntie, am I not giving you enough?”

William’s voice cut through the air behind her, cold as steel.

Before she could react, he seized her arm and dragged her back to the villa.

The moment they were inside, he slammed her against the wall.

“Do you know what you are? Slipping behind your patron’s back?”

Maria offered a faint, joyless smile. “Done entertaining your precious Diane?”

“Jealous?” William’s voice was icy. “Maria, know your place. You’re a kept woman. Don’t get ideas above your station.”

She shot back, “For all I know, you don’t even work anymore. Diane’s nightly performances are pure bad theater. Who’d be jealous of that?”

In an instant, William snapped. He scooped her up, carried her upstairs to a guest room, and threw her onto the bed.

Her head cracked against the headboard. Pain bloomed—and then he was on her.

His eyes were bloodshot, his grip on her arms bruising.

Maria cried out, instinctively trying to shove him off, but he pinned her, immobile.

He was like a starved beast, biting, claiming.

His hands were branding irons, mapping her skin.

A film of tears blurred Maria’s vision. She bit her lip hard, refusing to make another sound.

Then William stopped. A sneer twisted his lips. “How depraved, Auntie. Getting turned on by your own nephew.”

Maria mirrored his mockery. “Takes one to know one. Groping your father’s killer? That’s a new low.”

The next second, a sharp crack echoed through the room. His palm struck her cheek, hard enough to split her lip.

William stared down at her, hatred burning in his eyes. “Don’t you dare talk about him!”

He snatched up his clothes and stormed into the next room.

Only when the sounds of William and her niece’s intimacy began to drift through the wall did Maria finally go limp, her body sliding down to rest against the cold plaster.

Their ragged breaths filled her ears. William’s hate-filled eyes filled her mind.

A pressure built in her chest, sharp and suffocating. Then her face went deathly pale. A spray of crimson hit the floor.

She wiped the blood from her mouth with the back of her hand. Her eyes were dull, her smile a ghostly, bitter thing.

Hate her. Good.

That was the point.

Once she caught the last of the criminals, she would vanish from his life for good.

That night, the sounds of passion lasted until dawn. Maria smoked until dawn.

She’d thought she was numb to it.

But hearing the man she loved with someone else… her heart still twisted, a pain she couldn’t control.

She tried to numb it with nicotine, a bitter laugh echoing in her mind.

*Isn’t this what you wanted?*

A single tear traced a path down her cheek.