Alora Moore had been called selfish. Cold-hearted. She’d been accused of picking a fight with a woman who was practically at death’s door. But what was so wrong with wanting back the pendant her parents had left her? Did she really deserve to be humiliated? To sacrifice everything for someone who’d already let her go? Alora Moore was not that pathetic.

Before she could get the words out, Rafael Holmes’s phone cut through the room with a sharp ring. Tessa Guzman. Her voice came through thin, threaded with pain. “Rafael, I just coughed up blood. I feel awful. Can you come be with me?”

Rafael hesitated. He hadn’t smoothed things over with Alora yet. But he knew she’d never really leave him—and Tessa was gravely ill. So he chose Tessa. “Don’t cry, Tessa. I’m on my way.”

At the sound of Tessa’s sobs, Rafael didn’t bother explaining himself to Alora. He turned and rushed out of the living room without a backward glance. As the door clicked shut, Alora smiled bitterly and kicked the pendant into the corner.

In the month since Tessa had come back, every time she was upset or unwell, Rafael was at her side in an instant—no matter the hour, no matter the weather. It was as if his promises of forever had been nothing but a dream Alora once dreamed.

But soon, it would all be over. In a month, she’d marry Westley Hall. Rafael wouldn’t have to worry about her anymore. He could live happily ever after with his first love. How perfect.

Ironic, really. December 18th—the date of Alora’s wedding—was also Rafael’s birthday. On that day, he’d be celebrating his birthday, and she’d be getting married. What a strange coincidence.

As far as Alora was concerned, once she and Rafael had broken up, he was no longer her boyfriend. And she sure as hell wasn’t going to keep living in his massive manor. So that Sunday, she spent the whole day packing up her things. What she could sell, she sold. What she couldn’t, she tossed.

She called the city’s top luxury consignment shop. They came out to appraise and buy the collection of second-hand bags and jewelry she’d accumulated, and she walked away with a tidy two million dollars. She didn’t transfer a cent to Rafael; she kept it in her account. It was her right.

Night fell. After she cut up the last scarf she’d painstakingly knitted for Rafael and threw it in the trash, she went back to her room. Just as she was about to leave with her suitcase, her gaze landed on the photograph on the nightstand.

In the photo, she was leaning against Rafael’s shoulder, her smile bright and adoring. He was looking at her with something that almost passed for tenderness. Rafael had always hated having his picture taken. This one was a rare exception—taken on her birthday last year, after she’d talked him into it.

It was the only picture they had together, and she’d once treasured it. It had its place on her nightstand. She used to stare at it, even carry it with her on business trips. But now, all it did was leave a bitter taste in her mouth. Without hesitating, she smashed the frame and dumped it in the trash.

By the time Rafael got back, it was late. After pulling his car up in front of the main house, he noticed the living room was dark. The unwelcoming blackness settled uneasily in his chest.

Before, no matter how late work kept him, Alora always left a light on for him. On snowy nights, that single glow guided him home. Since Tessa came back, those little comforts had vanished.

Rafael figured Alora was still mad at him. Knowing her, she was probably curled up on the sofa, stewing, waiting for him to apologize. “Alora,” he called as he flipped on the lights—and found the living room strangely wide and empty.

He couldn’t put his finger on what was missing, but the room felt stripped bare. “Mr. Holmes, you’re back,” Mrs. Wilson, the housekeeper, said, hurrying out of her room. “You’ve been drinking, haven’t you? I’ll make you some coffee.”

“No need,” Rafael said curtly. He wanted to see Alora—coffee was the last thing on his mind. He headed upstairs to find her.

But she wasn’t in her room either. It was noticeably empty. The potted plants she kept by the window were gone, along with her pillows and blankets.

Her room—once warm and cozy, full of plush toys, delicate lace curtains, and cute wall stickers—had been stripped down to cold black and white. The stark contrast grated on him. He turned to Mrs. Wilson, who had followed him upstairs. “Where’s Alora?”

The ice in Rafael’s voice made her skin prickle. Under his intense stare, Mrs. Wilson shivered before she could stop herself. She drew a deep breath and told him the truth. “Miss Alora said the two of you have broken up. She also said... she won’t be coming back.”

Rafael almost laughed at the nonsense Alora had fed Mrs. Wilson. She was being ridiculous. Running away from home? She was getting bolder by the day.

“Mrs. Wilson, you can go,” Rafael said. Once he was alone, he called his assistant, Jay Swift, and told him to find out which hotel Alora was staying at.

In a city where she had no one, and with how fast she’d left, there was no way she’d rented a place. Her only choice in a fit of pique was a hotel.

Jay, efficient as ever, tracked her down in no time: the city’s premier hotel.

“Alora, how long are you going to keep this up?” Rafael typed into his messages, but he didn’t send it. He deleted the text when he noticed the missing photo frame on the nightstand.

He knew better than anyone how much Alora cherished that photo. Even if she was running away, she would want it with her. So this wasn’t really goodbye.

No need to text her. Four years ago, her family had disowned her. Her biological parents had died when she was six. She had no real home to go back to. If not to him, where else would she go?

Since Tessa came back, they’d argued constantly. But every time, Alora was the first to apologize, the first to make amends. It wouldn’t be long before she did it again.

In the month since Tessa returned, Alora had been drowning in misery, unable to get one peaceful night’s sleep. Now, free of him, she slept straight through the night. Surprisingly so.

The exhaustion from the day before had caught up with her. Her calves ached, and she didn’t want to leave the bed. But she knew it was a workday—and she needed to resign from her job at Holmes Corp. So she forced herself up.

For years with Rafael, she had built her whole life around him. When he was at his lowest, she worked herself to the bone to help him recover. When he rebuilt his fortune, she became his personal assistant, managing every part of his life. Now that she’d left him, there was no way she’d keep working for him.

She wanted to chase the dream she’d had since she was a kid: becoming a renowned voice actor.

“Alora, my stomach really hurts all of a sudden!” Sarah, a young assistant, pleaded the moment Alora walked into the office.

Sarah looked at her with pained eyes. “Mr. Holmes needs this document urgently. Could you please take it up to the CEO’s office for me?”

It was obvious Sarah was in real distress. Before Alora could even nod, she waddled off toward the restroom as fast as she could.

Alora didn’t want to see Rafael, but she liked Sarah, and she didn’t want the poor assistant to get chewed out. So she decided to deliver the document to the CEO’s office herself.

The office door was slightly ajar. Just as Alora raised her hand to knock, she heard Tessa’s playful voice. “Rafael, my ankle suddenly hurts!”

Alora’s hand froze in midair. The light touch was enough to push the door open a crack.

Through the gap, she saw Tessa’s body go limp as she tumbled onto Rafael’s lap. “Tessa...” Rafael caught her instinctively, his hand moving to her waist.

Even after she steadied herself, Tessa didn’t bother getting off his lap. Instead, she looped her arms around his neck, bright and blooming as a rose. “Rafael, what if I suddenly want to kiss you?” she teased, her lips drawing closer to his. He didn’t move away.

“Alora…”

Jackie—who worked closely with Rafael Holmes—stepped into the CEO’s office to deliver his latest project report. Unlike most people at Holmes Corp., Jackie knew all about Rafael and Alora Moore’s history. When he spotted Alora just outside the door, he gave her a small nod.

But before he could actually greet her, he caught the scene inside the office and clamped a hand over his mouth. The glance he shot Alora’s way said more than he ever could: pity, sympathy, and a quiet kind of dread.

“I’m sorry, Tess,” Rafael said, looking rattled.

For a second, he’d drifted somewhere far off, standing frozen for several long beats before gently pulling away from Tessa Guzman.

“It’s okay,” Tessa said, a playful blush creeping into her cheeks. “It was just my shoelace.”

At the doorway, Alora’s gaze dropped to Tessa’s shoes—sleek designer sneakers, paired with a crisp white blouse and a soft pink pleated skirt. She looked like the kind of girl who could still be crowned campus queen.

Rafael didn’t say another word. He didn’t need to. His actions said it all. He lifted Tessa onto the desk with careful hands, bent down, and began tying her shoelaces like it was something sacred.

Watching him tend to Tessa’s shoelaces with that kind of devotion, Alora couldn’t stop the memory from hitting her.

Back when they were still tender with each other, Rafael had told her, “Meeting you was the happiest thing in my life. I’ll cherish you and protect you. I’ll never let you suffer or be wronged. I will never betray you.”

Her heart had soared. She’d foolishly believed she was the luckiest girl alive. One Thanksgiving, they’d walked through a park, fingers laced together, when they passed a young couple. The girl had whimsically asked her boyfriend to tie her shoelaces. Alora, half teasing, had asked Rafael if he would do the same for her.

His answer had been dismissive: “There’s no point comparing us to other couples. It’s childish.”

The message had been clear—he wouldn’t. She’d told herself it was just his nature, that men like him didn’t bother with silly little gestures. As long as he cared, she’d been fine.

But now, watching Rafael be so gentle with Tessa, Alora finally understood. Even the coldest men—men like the snow-capped Alps—would bow to tie the shoelaces of the girl they loved. Even the iciest frost would melt for the one they cherished.

Every line he’d drawn with her, every principle he’d claimed to hold, had only existed because he didn’t truly love her.

Maybe this was for the best. They’d both move on. Start new Chapters. Yes. It was for the best.

Alora stood there, still as stone, and watched Rafael finish tying Tessa’s shoelaces. Then he began gently massaging her ankle, their eyes locked in everything neither of them said. The boy she’d once loved had faded into a mere shadow in her heart.

When Tessa threw her arms around Rafael in a playful hug, Alora knew there was nothing left to see. She turned and headed for the stairwell.

“Miss Alora!”

Jackie called after her, worry sharp in his voice. He’d watched Alora give Rafael years of her life.

Alora paused. She heard the sincerity in Jackie’s voice, but she didn’t want to talk about it. Not now.

“I’ve already broken up with Rafael,” she said.

She saw the shock flicker through Jackie’s eyes, but she kept going. “He loves me, does he? Is that why he married Tessa on my birthday? He loves me, does he? Is that why he’s still tangled up with Tessa and can’t let go? His kind of love—I can’t bear it.”

“Miss Alora,” Jackie tried carefully, “is your resignation letter ready? I’ll need to sign off on it for you.”

Jackie, head of the secretarial department, had the authority to sign off on her resignation—not Rafael.

“Are you sure about this? Does Mr. Holmes know?” Jackie asked. He was loyal to Rafael, but even he couldn’t pretend the whole Tessa situation had been fair to Alora.

After leaving Rafael, Alora wanted nothing more to do with Holmes Corp. Over the next few days, she stayed firm. She avoided anything that reminded her of Rafael and poured herself into her voice-over work, which had recently started bringing her unexpected success.

Her mind was made up. Alora was ready to step into her new beginning and leave the shadows of lost love behind.

Rafael let out a dry laugh, hiding a private little thrill. He had a hunch Alora was bluffing—using her resignation as a power play. He, better than anyone, knew how badly she wanted to be his personal secretary. In the past, she’d moved heaven and earth to win his favor for that role. If he actually accepted her resignation, she’d be the one hurting, not him.

Rafael decided she needed a reality check. She’d crossed the line this time. “Process her resignation,” he told Jackie, his assistant. “And when you do, make sure she knows—if she walks out, she doesn’t get to come back.”

Jackie winced, not liking the idea of delivering a message that harsh. He thought about telling Rafael that Alora seemed serious this time, that she probably wasn’t coming back. But one look at Rafael’s stone-cold expression, and the words died in his throat. He nodded and got to work finalizing her resignation paperwork.

Once Jackie signed off, Alora made quick work of the formalities. Back at her hotel, her phone buzzed almost immediately: “Meet me at the Cranberry Lounge, room 8808.”

The Cranberry Lounge was Rafael’s favorite spot for socializing, but after the breakup, Alora wanted nothing to do with him. She was about to type out a refusal when another message came in: “If you want your parents’ locket back, be here in thirty minutes.”

Desperate to get back the keepsake from her parents, Alora didn’t waste a second getting to the Cranberry Lounge.

When she stepped into the dimly lit private room, Alora spotted Rafael on a plush wine-red leather sofa, Tessa tucked comfortably beside him. Tessa’s chin was tilted up just enough to show off her usual pride and charm. Rafael hovered over her protectively, every gesture dripping with care.

The sight stung, a sharp ache in her chest, but she forced herself to focus on why she was there. She pushed down the bitterness and walked in.

“Apologize to Tessa!” Rafael’s voice cut through the room as he slammed his glass onto the floor near Alora’s feet. “How dare you send thugs after her to steal that locket? If Patrick hadn’t been there, who knows what those lowlifes would’ve done!”

His friends were quick to pile on. “Alora, that was low!” one snapped. “Jealousy doesn’t give you the right to go after her!” another added. “Apologize to Tessa, and maybe Rafael will forgive you,” a third said, calling her “Tess” with a warmth Alora had never been shown.

Alora stood there, all the color drained from her face. She had loved Rafael so much, tried so hard to fit into his circle. And yet, after all those years, none of them had ever shown her that kind of warmth. None of them had ever treated her as one of their own.

She used to think their rough, careless treatment of her was just part of their personalities. But now, hearing the affection in their voices for Tessa, she realized they were only mirroring Rafael. To them, she wasn’t worth the effort.

Rafael didn’t even try to hide his favoritism. He lifted Tessa up despite her past betrayal. Everyone knew she’d walked away from him four years ago, and still they worshipped her.

“Apologize to Tessa, Alora!” Rafael’s words sliced through her thoughts and dragged her back to reality.

Alora held her ground. “I never sent anyone after Tessa! I—” she tried to explain, but Rafael cut her off. “Those thugs said you sent them. Tessa would never lie!”

Alora almost laughed at how absurd it was. So Tessa was the gold standard of truth, and she was the liar? After four years together, she’d hoped Rafael would at least know her character, even if his heart belonged to Tessa. But with one sentence, he’d convicted her without a second thought.

“I didn’t do anything wrong, and I won’t apologize to Tessa!” Alora said firmly. She hated the misunderstanding, but more than that, her heart was turning cold with grief. “If an accusation is proof, what if I said Tessa was a murderer—should she be thrown in jail without evidence? I won’t admit to something I didn’t do. You might as well call the police. Even they need evidence to convict, and Tessa’s word isn’t enough!”

“Rafael, I didn’t make anything up…” Tessa’s eyes reddened, her icy demeanor giving way to a fragile, vulnerable facade, expertly crafted to pull at everyone’s heartstrings.

Rafael’s patience snapped. He waved the locket Alora was desperate for, using it like a leash. “Alora, apologize to Tessa! Or forget about ever getting this locket back!”

Alora didn’t answer right away. Her eyes locked on the locket glinting in Rafael’s hand. Her parents had made it with love—a one-of-a-kind heirloom with intricate gold filigree cradling a rare sapphire.

The sight of it dragged her back to that terrible night four years ago. In the middle of a wild blizzard, she had shielded Rafael from his scheming half brother. She’d taken two stab wounds for him, holding on until the police arrived.

In the chaos, her locket had been stolen. She had lost it saving Rafael. Even if he didn’t love her the way she loved him, even if his heart belonged to Tessa, once he recovered it, he should have given it back—not used it as a weapon against her.

“Alora, stop this,” Tessa cut in, pretending to be generous, looking down at Alora like she was beneath her. “I won’t press charges over what happened. Let’s just have her finish the drinks on the table as a peace offering, and we can forget about it.”

Rafael hesitated. He knew Alora couldn’t drink alcohol because of her medical history. But he couldn’t bring himself to refuse Tessa, not when she was sick. So he nodded, his expression cold and indifferent.

Alora had told herself it wasn’t worth grieving over a man who didn’t love her. But when he nodded, she couldn’t stop the tears from burning her eyes. He knew she couldn’t drink alcohol.

Back when Rafael was still struggling to build his career, she had been the one to sit through those brutal business dinners for him, drinking on his behalf. One time, she’d nearly died from alcohol poisoning. The doctor had warned her sternly never to drink again.

Back then, he’d held her in his arms, guilt written all over his face, his eyes red with remorse. He promised he’d get strong enough to protect her, to cherish her, to never let her suffer again.

But feelings change fast and without warning. For Tessa, Alora had been made to endure one humiliation after another.

“I’ll drink,” Alora said quietly. She didn’t bother explaining. There was no point justifying herself to someone who’d already decided not to believe her. She just wanted her locket back so she could leave this painful scene behind.

She glanced at the rows of bottles lined up on the table, and her lips curled in self-mockery. “So if I drink all of these, you’ll give me back my locket?”

Rafael’s eyes darkened. He could feel a storm coming. Somehow, the look on Alora’s face was more unbearable than anything. It felt like she was slipping further and further away, but he was sure she’d never really leave.

After all, Tessa’s health was fragile. Even if Alora only wanted her locket back and didn’t mean to hurt Tessa, the fright Tessa had suffered shouldn’t ruin her last days. Resolute, Rafael ordered, “Drink!”

Alora let out a breath, relieved. His demand meant that once she drank enough to satisfy him, it would be over. The table was loaded with scotch. She blinked, hesitating.

But for the locket, she steeled herself and tipped the first bottle down her throat. It burned like liquid fire, each gulp scorching her heart.

To think loving the wrong person could hurt this much—like being flayed alive and having her bones ground to dust. She had to stop loving Rafael. She had to move on.

“Enough!” Rafael snapped when Alora, face flushed and body swaying, reached for another bottle. He couldn’t watch anymore. He snatched it from her hand and smashed it against the floor. “Take your locket and leave!”

“Tessa…” Rafael’s interruption was momentarily forgotten as Tessa—who hated being second to anyone, especially Alora, the woman who had ‘taken’ Rafael while she was married abroad—couldn’t stand it.

That locket meant everything to Alora. There was no way Tessa was going to let it go. Seeing Rafael about to hand it over, she snatched it and clung to him, putting on a show of distress. “Rafael, my stomach hurts… so much… Am I dying?”

She coughed painfully, a small amount of blood spilling from her lips.

“Tessa!” Alarm shot through Rafael at the sight of her blood. The locket was completely forgotten as he scooped her up and rushed out of the room, leaving Alora alone in the dim, empty space.