As we passed our alma mater, Claude Gilbert spoke without warning：

“Olivia Fox, let's call off the wedding. It's in three days.”

I kept my gaze level：“For the sake of a woman who wrecks everything she touches?”

His eyes flashed a warning：“Whether she's a wreck or not, I'll always have her back. As long as she's genuine with me, that's enough.”

I stared at this man I'd loved for nine years. Stared for a long time. Then I smiled and nodded：“Sure. Then I wish you the best of luck collecting that genuine heart from a genuine wreck.”

Nine years of love, and every last drop of it was gone.

It was time to go home, claim my family's inheritance, and marry the man my grandfather had chosen for me all those years ago.

……

Claude's cool eyes widened a fraction. He hadn't expected someone as straight-laced and serious as me to throw a barb laced with that much venom.

His lips curved downward：“Olivia, I'll admit these nine years were wasted on you because of me. But I hope you won't let jealousy drive you to hurt her.”

He didn't bother examining why I'd changed. He simply filed it under jealousy and moved on.

I looked at this man I'd chased for nine years and never managed to win.

And all at once, the whole thing felt pointless.

He'd talked about honoring what we'd shared, about both of us trying.

In truth, he'd stood by with cold indifference while I sank deeper and deeper into a bond I couldn't claw my way out of.

He didn't love me. He didn't care where my soul went for air.

All he'd ever seen was a prim, proper, rigidly well-mannered heiress who couldn't hold a candle to the woman tattooed on his heart.

I used to believe that even if he wandered off course for a while,

he'd correct himself in time and stand beside me, fighting the same fight.

Now I could see the truth. You can't prop up a man who insists on lying in the mud.

“Claude, you really didn't forget our nine-year promise.”

A tall woman in a scarlet dress emerged from behind him. Black hair, red lips, striking to the point of aggression.

She carried herself with careless ease and hooked her arm through Claude's without hesitation：

“I heard you finally got over me and were getting married? How come I never got an invitation?”

“If you're really tying the knot, why bother showing up to keep our date?”

A few pointed questions from Isabel Cox, and Claude Gilbert, the man of few words and fewer emotions, turned red to the tips of his ears. He blurted out：

“Who said I'm getting married? That's completely made up.”

The moment the words left his mouth, his gaze darted to me, terrified I'd expose the lie on my next breath.

I lowered my head, hiding the scorn pulling at the corner of my lips：“He's right. Completely made up.”

No wonder he'd suddenly rerouted to our alma mater today, when he was supposed to be taking me to try on wedding dresses.

Isabel tossed her long hair back with a carefree flick：“Olivia, honestly, you're embarrassing. I gave you nine whole years, and you still couldn't lock this boy down. You should've done what I did back in the day and just gone for it.”

If I hadn't already known Isabel Cox's true face, I might have genuinely mistaken her for some bold, breezy, effortlessly gorgeous free spirit.

She brought up the old days with a laugh, and Claude reached for her hand on his own. His voice was firm：

“I'm not just anyone's for the taking.”

I didn't believe most of what came out of Claude Gilbert's mouth.

But that line? That one I believed completely.

Even though Isabel had been caught in hotel rooms with industry executives over a dozen times while they were dating, selling herself to chase her modeling career.

Claude had stayed. Loyal to the bone. He'd even begged her not to break up with him.

This was a man born into one of the most powerful families in the city. Proud, cold, untouchable. Most people couldn't get so much as a glance from him.

Yet Isabel could tug at every string in his chest with barely any effort, driving him to obsession, driving him to madness.

She leaned into him with a coy smile：“Didn't you promise you'd let me try out the back seat of that Maserati? Let's see if you're still as impressive as you used to be after all these years.”

Desire surged behind Claude's eyes. He didn't refuse.

I watched them walk away hand in hand. I didn't try to stop them.

I was seventeen that year.

Grandfather passed over my uncles, each of them circling like wolves, and chose me as the one to be tested as heir.

But the very first project I landed was publicly exposed as plagiarized.

Claude, as the partnering party, mobilized his people and uncovered that someone had deliberately copied and leaked my proposal.

A knight in shining armor.

Cliché, but it worked.

I fell for him without a second thought. This composed, exacting, impossibly serious man.

We were cut from the same cloth. Both held to impossible standards, both shouldering the weight of an entire family's expectations. Everyone called us the golden couple.

When Claude's mother was driven to her death by his father's mistress, I weaponized public opinion to keep that woman from taking her place.

When his illegitimate half-siblings clawed away his shares, I helped him lock down impossible overseas clients and steady his footing.

When he was diagnosed with cancer and moved into the ICU, I handwrote him a letter every single day and found ways to smuggle each one inside.

I had always been stiff and reserved, but I scoured the internet for jokes, testing every one on myself first, only writing it into a letter once I was sure it could make me laugh out loud. All for one smile from him.

Three years of fighting cancer. A thousand letters.

Over a thousand times I stood outside his ICU room, stealing glimpses of him through the glass.

The day the cancer was declared fully eradicated, Claude wrote me back for the first time：

“My life has been still water. The only extraordinary thing in it is you.”

Side by side through life and death.

That certainly counted as extraordinary.

I believed that what we had needed no words. We were each other's chosen companion on the same road.

But then Isabel forced her way between us in the most brazen way imaginable.

The day he was discharged, Isabel crashed into his arms carrying a blaze of red roses, laughing as she said：“Hey, handsome. You ruined my flowers. You owe me.”

“These roses were meant for the love of my life. Now that they're in your hands, I guess that makes you the love of my life!”

He frowned, but he didn't push her away.

I didn't know then that when Isabel crashed into him, she crashed straight into his heart.

If I had, I would have thrown myself in front of him no matter what.

After that day, Isabel latched onto Claude and never let go.

Grand public confessions with poster boards. Extravagant displays of roses begging for his love.

At first Claude frowned and turned away.

Then, gradually, he started smiling whenever he saw her.

The last time, Isabel stood before the entire school and pulled out an enormous box.

Claude pressed his fingers to his brow, laughing in reluctant surrender：“Fine, fine. I give in. Just stop making a scene.”

But Isabel opened the box：“Give in to what? I'm just delivering your lunch. Pay up.”

Claude's face went red. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her：“Stop playing with me.”

Three months.

It took Isabel three months to accomplish what I couldn't in three years.

After that, she made a habit of flaunting their love right in front of me：“I heard you two go way back. Don't tell me you've been treating him like some cool, untouchable big brother this whole time?”

“Let me tell you something. That untouchable man you put on a pedestal? To me, he's just a toy.”

Claude didn't feel humiliated in the slightest. He just ruffled her hair, indulgent and adoring：

“Then you'd better play with me for the rest of your life.”

Isabel lifted her hand and slapped it against Claude's cheek, her eyes gleaming with triumph：“Do they know that their untouchable ice prince is nothing but a dog begging for scraps at my feet?”

Claude stared at the hickey on Isabel's neck, his grin wolfish and unchecked：“Then you'd better tell them this dog bites.”

Isabel swatted at Claude in mock outrage, and the two of them tangled together, kissing without the slightest regard for the fact that I was standing right there.

She lifted her gaze to me：“And what about you, his dear little sister? Word is you two fought side by side for years. Everyone in the circle thought you were a couple.”

Claude's brow creased with undisguised contempt：“Being with someone as dull and boring as you? I'd rather be toyed with and betrayed by a cheating woman like her. At least it's interesting.”

My heart seized so tight I couldn't breathe.

He'd proved it with his actions, time and time again. No matter how many times Isabel toyed with him and threw him away, he would never spare me a single glance.

He'd rather throw a punch at Isabel's new boyfriend in front of everyone, go to war with her sugar daddy, and burn his own reputation to the ground until he had nothing left.

Than let her go.

But all that searing devotion still couldn't keep Isabel.

“I just wanted to see what it was like to pluck the untouchable flower. Now I'm bored. Bye.”

That same night, Isabel posted a photo from a luxury yacht, draped in the arms of an international magazine CEO, captioned：

【Next target: becoming his muse.】

Isabel pulled the same routine all over again, throwing herself at this new billionaire until the spectacle made headlines at home and abroad.

Claude said nothing. He just handed me a partnership proposal：

“You said we were cut from the same cloth. Help me reclaim my position as heir. Once it's done, I'll only have you by my side.”

……

Women always dream of being the one who saves him.

Nine full years.

I thought I'd pulled Claude out of the mud.

Helped him become the sole head of the Gilberts.

But he turned every one of those achievements into bargaining chips to chase Isabel again.

The old me had been consumed with bitterness.

How could I possibly lose to a woman that shallow?

The me standing here now just felt sick.

If he was determined to chain himself to that waste of a human being, then all I could do was wish them a lifetime of happiness. Preferably locked together forever.

News that Claude had canceled the wedding spread through every circle that mattered.

Plenty of people laughed at me. Threw herself at him for free and still got rejected.

Grandfather Fox called：

“Sure the wedding's still on?”

I gave a quiet "mm."

He sighed, reluctant but resigned：“If you don't want to go through with it, just say the word. I won't force you.”

I kept my voice light：“A stray mutt off the street will never compare to the loyal one you raised at home. Besides, if I don't get married, my uncles will never stop circling.”

“I've been playing around long enough. Time to settle down. The wedding goes on. No sense wasting a hundred-million-dollar ceremony over a groom who ran. All I need is a different one. It's not a big deal.”

Real love was a rare thing among the wealthy.

I'd accepted that a long time ago.

I went to the bridal shop alone for my fitting. The moment I reached the entrance, the attendant's face hit me with a look caught between shock and awkwardness.

Something was wrong. I walked in.

The gown my mother had custom-made the day I was born.

Isabel was wearing it.

I turned on the attendant：“That gown belongs to the Fox family. It was left here for safekeeping. Who gave you permission to let someone try it on?”

The attendant rolled her eyes at me：“Fox family? This is the wedding gown for Mr. Gilbert's future wife. Everyone knows you've been dumped. What does this dress have to do with you?”

“Can't even hold onto your man, and you think you can hold onto a dress worth a fortune.”

The attendant positioned herself between me and the gown, blocking me like a guard.

I let out a cold laugh and turned to Claude：“Funny. I don't recall this gown changing owners.”

Claude stood there in a matching suit, not a flicker of guilt on his face. He answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world：

“Isabel is the woman I've chosen as my wife.”

He tossed a gold card onto the counter：“There's thirty million dollars on this. Consider it payment for the gown. Don't push your luck.”

Isabel pressed her fingers to her lips, stifling a laugh：“Claude, even if this dress were covered in diamonds it wouldn't be worth thirty million. You really do spoil me.”