According to the Winslow family's rules that are passed down for generations, anyone who wants to marry into the family must draw a tarot card.

But I have drawn 99 times, and every single card is a bad one.

Before the 100th draw, I see Clara Winslow replace all the Lovers cards in the deck.

She says, "No matter how many times he tries, he will only draw the worst cards."

I finally realize that she does not love me at all.

That is fine because I no longer want to marry her either.

I toss the cards aside and call my parents. "I accept the arranged marriage with the Shaws."

I ran into Clara Winslow again on my way out of the tarot studio. Her gaze paused on my swollen eyes for a couple of seconds before she looked away, her expression as calm as ever.

Lylia Moss, who was standing beside her, was the one who broke the awkward silence. "Mr. Quinn, are you heading back?"

My throat was still raw from crying, and it hurt too much to speak, so I merely nodded. Then, I walked to the ticket counter, planning to take the cable car down the mountain.

Behind me, Lylia sounded confused. "Are you taking the cable car? Aren't you going to make your way down on foot?"

I turned around and met the confusion in both her and Clara's eyes. A bitter feeling rose in my chest.

For three years, I'd come here 99 times to draw a card.

Every time, I'd dragged myself up the mountain step by painful step, then limped all the way back down, hoping God would see my sincerity and finally allow me to draw the Lovers card.

Only now did I understand that sincerity had never been enough.

If Clara herself didn't want me to have the Lovers card, no amount of devotion would get it for me, so why was I still making myself suffer?

I scanned the code, bought the ticket, and answered casually, "I'm tired. I don't feel like walking."

My hoarse voice had barely faded when Lylia raised the keys in her hand. "Clara and I are heading down, too. Why don't we give you a ride?"

Before I could refuse, Clara spoke flatly, "We're picking someone up. We don't have time."

As she brushed past me, she paused. Her eyes moved over my pale face, and in the end, she said, "If you know you're tired, don't do that to yourself again next time."

Clara had always been cold, even in the way she spoke. In the past, no matter how cruel her words were, I'd still thought her voice sounded pleasant.

Back then, I'd imagined that if she ever showed me concern, or if her voice ever softened with affection, it would sound even better.

Now, it seemed that was all there was to it.

…

After I went down the mountain, I headed straight for a barbecue restaurant.

For three years, because of that ridiculous Lovers card, I hadn't dared touch meat. I'd even forced myself to become a vegetarian.

Halfway through the meal, the door opened, and a familiar voice I hated drifted in.

"It smells amazing. After being abroad for years, this is the one thing I missed most!"

I looked up and saw Caleb Quinn standing by the sauce station.

My mood immediately soured. All I wanted was to finish eating and leave as soon as possible.

Then, I heard Clara's voice, tinged with helpless indulgence. "Go easy on the spice. Your stomach's not great."

My chest tightened. I looked over and saw Clara standing beside the sauce station, handing Caleb a saucer.

So, Clara's Lovers card had always been meant for Caleb.

And of all people, it had to be him.

A bitter ache spread through my chest, and my appetite vanished completely. I set down my fork and got up to leave.

The moment I picked up my phone and turned around, I collided with Caleb, who was holding a plate of sauce.

"Ah!" he cried before stumbling right back into Clara's arms.

The force knocked me off balance, and my hand slammed onto the still-hot grill.

I sucked in a sharp breath from the burn. By the time I steadied myself, the back of my hand had already turned bright red.

The pain was so intense that I immediately looked for cold water, but before I could leave, Clara grabbed my wrist. "Lucas, you need to apologize to Caleb!"

The burn on the back of my hand throbbed, and the ache seemed to pull at my chest, too.

I yanked myself free from Clara's grip and tried to rinse it without saying a word. However, she stepped in front of me, her tone cold.

"Apologize."

I lifted my head, trying my best to hold back the tears gathering in my eyes. My voice came out rigid. "Why should I?"

Caleb peeked out from behind Clara, sounding wronged. "Clara, I'm fine. I was the one who accidentally ran into Lucas."

My gaze turned cold. "Don't act like we're chummy."

Caleb immediately shrank into Clara's arms, looking terrified.

Clara froze, too. "You two…"

Caleb quickly grabbed her hand. "Clara, please don't ask, okay? I..."

I couldn't stand another second of his performance. I turned on my heel to leave, but Clara stopped me again.

"I don't care what your history is. You bumped into him, so you owe him an apology. Caleb is a doctor. His hands are precious, and you almost injured him earlier."

The burn on the back of my hand felt as if something were biting into the skin, the pain radiating all the way to my chest. I lifted my hand, exposing the raw, angry red skin to her.

"There's plenty of space in the aisle. I was standing beside my own table. He was the one who came over and ran into me. Besides, I'm hurt, too. This wasn't my fault, so I'm not apologizing."

Clara's gaze fell on the back of my hand. For a brief second, something shifted in her calm eyes.

I pushed past them, asked a server for an ice pack, and left.

As I headed for the exit, I couldn't help but glance back one last time.

Caleb was sitting by the window, looking sullen and dejected, while Clara sat beside him, her expression soft as she personally grilled the meat for him.

The ice pack in my grip sent a chill straight to my heart, freezing out the last flicker of hope I'd been clinging onto.

Clara had always been so cool and untouchable, yet she was personally grilling meat for Caleb.

In this pursuit, I had completely lost.

As soon as I got home, Mom pulled me into the bedroom and pressed me about whether I had really agreed that morning to a marriage alliance with the Shaws.

When I saw the worry in her eyes, my nose stung, and the bitterness in my chest rose all over again.

Everyone in our circle knew that I, Lucas Quinn, had fallen for Clara at first sight and sworn that I would marry no one but her.

No matter how cold she was to me, I still went after her like I couldn't help myself.

Mom pulled me into her arms, her heart aching as she asked if I'd been hurt.

I forced a smile. "Mom, I mean it. I've hit the wall with Clara enough times to know it hurts, and I don't want to keep doing it. It's time for me to walk away."

Not long after, voices came from downstairs. Mom stood up, then quickly returned and closed the door, her face paling.

I heard Caleb's voice.

When I went downstairs, Dad was sitting on the couch, laughing so hard he nearly doubled over.

Caleb had his arm wrapped around Dad's and was telling jokes, while Clara sat beside him.

The moment Caleb saw me, he instinctively flinched.

Dad acknowledged me, though his tone sounded stiff and awkward.

My gaze fixed on Caleb in a cold stare. "Who gave you permission to set foot in my home?"

The color drained from his face, and he looked like he was on the verge of tears.

Displeased, Dad snapped at me, "That's enough, Lucas! He's your brother!"

I raised my chin and shot back, "I'm my mother's only child. I don't have some brother who came out of nowhere!"

A sharp slap cracked across the room. Dad had shot to his feet and struck me hard across the face.

My cheek began to swell instantly as Mom came stumbling down the stairs, throwing herself in front of me. "What gives you the right to hit Luke?"

Dad's chest heaved with anger, but since there were outsiders present, he sat back down in a fury.

Mom held me as she cried, and for the first time, she stopped enduring everything in silence.

"You cheated on me while I was pregnant! You promised he would never set foot in this house, but now you've gone ahead and brought him here!"

My parents' marriage had been arranged by their families. There hadn't been much love between them, but their life together had at least been stable.

It wasn't until the year Mom gave birth to me that she found out Dad had once had a girlfriend. During Mom's pregnancy, the two of them had gotten involved again.

When I was a year old, that woman had Caleb after a difficult delivery.

For my sake, Mom had made Dad promise that Caleb would never be acknowledged and brought back into the family.

Now, there he was, acting as if he owned the place.

I pulled away from Mom's arms and steadied myself, my tone cold and firm. "Either you kick your bastard son out, or the two of you can leave together!"

Throughout this entire exchange, Clara remained indifferent, even after hearing a family secret no outsider was supposed to know.

Only after I said that did she lift her eyes, and a flicker of displeasure crossed them.

She stood and stepped in front of Caleb, whose face was streaked with tears. "Watch your words, Lucas."

As I met the displeasure on Clara's face, my mind suddenly flashed back to the day I first met her. She had been just as cold then, leaning down to look at my badly swollen ankle and asking if I was okay.

I had quietly joked to myself that Clara was an NPC, completely devoid of emotion.

After that, I nearly ruined the notes she had spent half a month copying, but she still wore that same expression. I even went online and memorized a bunch of cheesy pickup lines just to flirt with her, yet she still barely reacted.

I truly believed she had transcended all worldly desires. But now, she was actually angry, all because of one remark I made about Caleb.

Dad, incensed by my words, lunged forward and struck me again. "You don't call the shots in this family!"

Then, he ordered the maids to throw out everything that belonged to Mom and me. I tried to stop them, but Dad grabbed my arm and shoved me outside.

"If you can't stand the sight of Caleb and me, then you and your mother can move out!" he yelled.

The door slammed shut, and Mom crouched on the ground, sobbing.

Soon, the door opened again.

Caleb came out with my belongings in his arms, looking smug. "Lucas, why put yourself through all this? Look at you now, kicked out of your own home."

I instantly noticed a ceramic jar in his arms. My eyes narrowed as I demanded, "Give that back!"

When Caleb saw how desperate I was, a smirk played on his lips.

Then, he simply let go. The ceramic jar fell out of the box and shattered on the ground.

My eyes went red with fury. I lunged forward, grabbed Caleb, and punched him in the face. "You did that on purpose, didn't you?"

He shrieked, instantly switching to a pathetic, apologetic tone. But all I wanted to do was to tear him apart.

That ceramic jar was a school project Grandma Arlene had made with me when I was in elementary school. It was the only thing I had left of her.

The door flew open. When Clara saw Caleb's bruised and swollen face, she stormed forward and yanked me away.

The steps were right behind me. The force sent me tumbling down the steps and onto the ground.

A piercing pain shot through my ankle, but Clara's gaze stayed ice-cold. "Lucas, Caleb is innocent."

When her gaze landed on the shattered pieces on the ground, she didn't even react. "It's just a worthless trinket. Who cares if it's broken? Did you really have to hit Caleb over it?"

The pain had me breaking out in a cold sweat, and I couldn't even get a word out to defend myself.

Clara didn't spare me another glance. Her eyes filled with concern as she helped Caleb back inside.

Mom rushed over, weeping as she held me. I forced a strained smile, pulled out my phone, and called a taxi.

It started raining.

After who knew how long, the front door creaked open once more. Clara stood in the doorway, an umbrella in hand.

"I've already put in a good word for you. As long as you go inside and apologize to Caleb, you can come back in."

I lowered my eyes and stayed still.

After a moment, she walked down the steps and pressed a tube of burn cream into my palm. Then, she handed the umbrella to Mom before turning around and getting into the Winslow family's car.

I looked down at the tube in my hand for a moment, then threw it into the trash without hesitation.

Once we were in the taxi, Mom's sobs finally began to subside. She pulled out her phone, and not long after, she turned to me.

"Luke, the Shaws have agreed to the marriage alliance. They want to set a meeting as soon as possible."

Mom took me back to her parents' house.

After laying out everything that had happened, she looked at me. "Mom, Dad, I've decided to get a divorce. I endured everything for Luke's sake, but now, I don't want to put up with it anymore."

Upon hearing this, we shared another round of tearful embraces.

Uncle Nathan's eyes were bloodshot. "Angela, Luke, don't worry. I'll make sure they pay for this."

He immediately got up to call his lawyers.

My injured foot kept me at home for more than a week before I recovered.

During that time, the Shaws and Mom had already settled the details of the marriage alliance. Once my foot healed, all that was left was to hold the engagement party.

That weekend, I made plans to go suit shopping with my best friend, Dylan Cross.

The moment we met, Dylan took my hand with a pained look. Only after he confirmed that I had really made up my mind to let Clara go did he start ranting angrily.

"You have no idea how insane the rumors have gotten these past few days. Everyone in our circle is saying you were ousted by a bastard and that Caleb is the only son of the Quinn family now.

"And that's not even the worst of it. Clara's spoiling him rotten. She's practically at his beck and call. The people who always hated you are having a field day watching the fallout."