Isolde's POV

On our wedding day, Nicholas Whitlock made a grand declaration of love in front of a live audience streaming across the internet.

“Happy wedding day, my lovely wife,” he said affectionately.

But the next second, he yanked off my veil and sneered, “Happy divorce, Isolde.”

The joyful tears on my face froze mid-smile, then laughter erupted from the crowd.

Before I could even process what had just happened, he wrapped his arm around his secretary, who was dressed elegantly in a white wedding dress, and said with a mocking grin, “If you hadn’t fought her over that necklace a week ago, I wouldn’t have done this. But if you apologize and she forgives you, maybe then I’ll actually marry you.”

He completely forgot that necklace was my mother’s heirloom.

That night, I became the biggest joke on the internet. But the world couldn’t get enough of the “perfect couple,” Nicholas and his beautiful secretary.

Three months later, after the two of them had traveled the world together, he casually asked one of his men, “Has she apologized yet?”

The man hesitated before cautiously answering, “Mr. Whitlock, she already got married.”

——

“It wasn’t me who didn’t want to marry him,” I said quietly.

The study was dimly lit. Nicholas’s father sat behind his desk, deep lines creasing his tired face.

He sighed heavily. “I thought, since our families were so close, our children would naturally end up together.”

He shook his head, murmuring almost to himself. “But I guess, love can’t be forced.”

He handed me the engagement contract and a blank check. Both had the word "Void" scrawled across them.

“Go,” he said. “Fill in whatever number you want.”

But despite his offer, I left without taking a cent.

Our engagement had been arranged years ago, partly out of family alliance and business interest. But in truth, aside from Nicholas himself, the Whitlocks had never wronged me. So, I wouldn't take a penny with me.

Outside the villa, the sun blazed overhead just like the day I first met him.

He had been like a flower blooming high on a distant peak—cold, untouchable, and impossibly beautiful, so I fell for him instantly.

But he only looked me up and down and scoffed, “You’re pretty enough, but don’t covet what doesn’t belong to you.”

I thought he was talking about the Whitlocks’ wealth. He thought I was a shallow gold digger.

For three years, I tried to prove to him that I wasn’t with him for money.

But then, his first love, Alicia Duvall, suddenly returned from abroad, and he immediately hired her as his personal secretary.

That was when I finally understood. What he said didn’t belong to me was his love.

Unwilling to give up those three wasted years, I clung to our engagement contract.

But now, as I tore the contract into pieces and dropped it into the trash, I felt free.

Just then, my phone buzzed with a new message.

[I’m leaving. If you still don’t give me an answer, we’ll never see each other again.]

I typed back with trembling fingers: [Fine, I accept your offer.]

Not long after, my phone rang.

“You’re not just saying that to make him jealous, are you?”

“I swear,” I said solemnly. “As Agnes Graves’s daughter, I’m not lying.”

There was a long silence, then I heard him take a few deep breaths before finally replying, “I’ll treat you right.”

I smiled faintly, since for him, that was the most romantic thing he could say.

Soon after, a plane ticket arrived in my inbox. The flight was tonight.

Quickly, I went back to the villa to pack my things.

But when I opened the door, I froze. Nicholas, who was rarely home, was there waiting for me.

“Have you thought it through?” His voice came from the shadows, cold and sharp. “Are you giving her the necklace or not?”

My hand instinctively went to the pendant resting on my neck.

“Alicia didn’t grow up wealthy,” he said, stepping closer. “She’s only started to enjoy the finer things in life these past two years. She doesn’t resent you for taking what was hers. She just liked your necklace. Why can’t you be satisfied?”

He descended the stairs, leaning in until his face was inches from mine.

Isolde's POV

“So, what? You really want me to call off our engagement?” he threatened.

That was his biggest one, as he knew it could still hurt me.

Well, I used to care. I used to feel unwilling to give up, to lose to someone like her. After all, I was the one who came first.

Even if Alicia had met him before me, she never really loved him. If she did, why did she marry that old man? And why did she come running back to him the moment she realized she wasn’t in the old man’s will?

I laughed bitterly.

“Well then,” I said, looking straight into his eyes, “isn’t that exactly what you wanted?”

His brows furrowed. Without answering, he turned around and picked something up from the desk—two plane tickets for a world trip.

One was his, and the other was...

My heart skipped.

It had my name on it.

I froze. I once told him that I wanted to travel the world before getting married. Could he actually be… fulfilling that wish?

But before I could even breathe out a word, he tore both tickets in half.

Shreds of paper fluttered down over my head and shoulders like cruel confetti.

Then he picked up his phone.

“Book new tickets,” he said coldly. “For me and Alicia.”

He then hung up and gave me one last dismissive glance before brushing past me toward the door.

I stood there in silence. Knowing him, he probably only bought those first tickets to put on a show for his father, to pretend we were a happy couple. Someone like Nicholas would never go out of his way to be kind to me.

My fingers touched the necklace around my neck. It was the only thing my mother left me, the Graves heirloom, passed down through generations.

There was no way I’d give it to anyone.

I unclasped it carefully, placed it inside a velvet box, and packed it into my suitcase.

I was supposed to leave tonight. But before I could go, an email arrived.

It was a digital invitation to a memorial concert marking the fifth anniversary of my mother’s death.

They wanted me, her only child, to perform one of her classic pieces.

I hesitated for a moment, then called Spencer Wilde.

“Would it be okay if I arrived two days late?”

There was a brief silence on the other end before he asked, “Are you having second thoughts?”

“How could I?” I said with a small smile. “There’s just something important I have to do first.”

“Alright,” he replied softly. “I trust you. And I’ll wait.”

Warmth bloomed quietly in my chest.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

The concert was in two days.

During that time, I didn’t send Nicholas a single message and, as expected, he didn’t contact me either.

But it favored me as I got to focus on practicing my mother’s music, determined to play it perfectly in her honor.

I knew every note by heart, but still, I wanted it to sound flawless.

On the morning of the performance, I woke up early, washed up, and got ready.

But when I opened the red velvet box, my heart dropped.

The necklace was gone.

I froze as a terrible feeling crept into my chest.

I called Nicholas.

The moment the call connected, I heard faint music in the background, a live orchestra.

“You’re at the concert?” My voice trembled. “Did you take my necklace?”

His voice came through, calm and detached. “Alicia’s never been part of a concert before. She’s always dreamed of performing, but her family could never afford to support her. While you, you come from a musical family, these events are nothing new for you. Besides, her birthday’s coming up, so think of the necklace as your gift to her.”

“Nicholas!” I screamed, fury shaking my whole body.

But all I got in response was the flat beep of a disconnected call.

I dialed again and again, but no one answered.

Without thinking, I grabbed my keys and rushed out the door.

By the time I arrived at the concert hall and stepped out of the car, the sound of the music inside made every muscle in my body tense.

Isolde's POV

No, this couldn’t be happening. That song shouldn’t be played here. Not today.

Onstage, under the warm glow of the lights, a familiar figure sat gracefully at the grand piano. She wore a delicate mask, but I’d recognize her anywhere.

Around her neck gleamed my mother’s necklace.

The audience waited in hushed anticipation as Alicia lifted her slender fingers and pressed the first key.

“No!” I shouted.

But the concert hall was too large, so my voice was swallowed up by the sound.

By the time I reached the VIP section, chaos had already broken out.

“What are you playing? Don’t you know the composer of that song insulted Agnes Graves?” someone shouted.

“Ms. Graves was a revolutionary musician! How dare you play the enemy’s music at her memorial?” another yelled.

“This concert is to honor Agnes Graves! And her own daughter doesn’t play her mother’s work, but the music of her enemy? What are you doing?”

Voices rose from every corner. People stood up from their seats, furious.

If the security guards hadn’t stepped in, they would’ve stormed the stage.

Alicia froze, trembling. Even from here, I could imagine the panic hidden beneath her mask.

From the front row, Nicholas stood and murmured something to his bodyguards.

Within seconds, his men blocked the angry crowd, holding them back five meters from the stage.

He then rushed to escort Alicia offstage.

I shoved past the curtains and followed them backstage.

“Alicia!” I shouted, lunging toward her.

Before I could reach her, someone grabbed my wrist hard.

“Let go of me!” I yelled, struggling.

Nicholas’s voice came from above, cold and sharp. “Have you lost your mind? Enough already!”

He pulled me back, shielding Alicia behind him. “She doesn’t even hold a grudge against you for taking her place, and yet you target her every chance you get! She doesn’t want your money or fancy gifts, just a simple apology and a necklace you don’t even need. This concert means everything to her, but to you it’s nothing. Can’t you have a little heart?”

Before I could think, my hand moved, and the sound of the slap echoed in the room.

“Nicholas!” Alicia gasped, rushing to him. “Nicholas!”

Nicholas looked at me in disbelief, his cheek reddening. “You… hit me?”

I was shaking, my voice coming out uneven but firm. “First of all, this concert was meant to honor my mother. My mother. Second, that necklace is my family's heirloom, passed down for generations. Since I’m the only family member left. I’m the only one who has the right to wear it!”

For a moment, Nicholas seemed stunned. Then Alicia burst into tears.

“Stop lying!” she cried. “Why didn’t you ever honor your mother before? Why wait until now, when it’s my birthday and I planned a concert, to suddenly care about her?”

Her voice cracked as she sobbed harder. “You just don’t want me to have my moment. You could’ve just said that, instead of hitting Nicholas!”

I opened my mouth, furious, but before I could speak, the host’s voice came from outside—tense and apologetic. “Ladies and gentlemen, please calm down. There’s been a misunderstanding. That woman on stage earlier was not Agnes Graves’s daughter. It was a mistake by our staff.”

“Impossible!” someone in the audience shouted, their voice booming through the speakers.

“She’s wearing the Graves heirloom! I’d recognize that necklace anywhere!”

“That’s right! No one outside the Graves could have that necklace!”

“Unless you bring out that fake right now, we won’t believe you! Do you dare?”

The host stammered helplessly. “W-We’re trying to sort this out, please stay calm—”

“Nicholas!” Alicia whimpered, burying herself in Nicholas’s arms. “Nicholas, I’m scared.”

I glared at him, my voice low but shaking with anger. “Nicholas. Let her go out there and face them.”

“Nicholas.” Alicia clung to him even tighter, tears streaming down her face.

“Nicholas!” I shouted again, my voice echoing through the backstage corridor.