After returning to her room, Claire couldn't sleep. The sounds from the next room—Iris's unrestrained moans—kept her awake all night.

She had no idea Calvin was capable of such intensity. Even when she had tried everything she could, he had never touched her.

The next morning, Claire washed up and went downstairs. She saw Calvin in the kitchen, apron on, cooking. Iris hovered by his side, feeding him oranges and wiping his sweat.

Watching them, her chest ached without warning.

Since moving in, Claire had prepared every meal for him. Calvin could cook, yet on her birthday, he hadn't even served her something simple. But for Iris, his obsessive cleanliness apparently didn't matter—he was willing to cook.

Claire lingered at the top of the stairs, frozen, until her phone rang.

"Grandpa George," she answered.

"Claire, with the wedding approaching, I'll transfer some money to you so you can buy anything you need for the wedding."

"But I only want to buy a wedding dress…"

Before she could finish, her phone pinged again.

"Ten million dollars has been deposited into your account."

Claire froze. She hadn't expected George to be so generous.

"Thank you, Grandpa George," she said, hanging up.

She prepared to leave the villa.

"Claire, Calvin made breakfast. Want to eat together?" Iris saw her and smiled, inviting her.

Calvin's voice was cold. "If you want to eat, come sit."

Claire ignored them and stepped out.

At the bridal shop, she began searching for a dress she liked. Just as she picked out one that seemed suitable, she ran into Calvin, Iris, and his group of friends.

Calvin's face darkened at the sight of her.

"What are you doing here?"

Before Claire could answer, his friends started chattering.

"Calvin, didn't Claire say she wanted to cancel the engagement? Why is she here picking out a wedding dress?"

"Do you really believe what she says? She's been after Calvin for years. She's finally getting married—there's no way she'd cancel now."

"Maybe she's here secretly because she knew you'd be taking wedding photos with Iris today."

Claire suddenly understood. Calvin was accompanying Iris for wedding photos.

She almost laughed.

A month before the wedding, she had begged Calvin to take a wedding photo session with her—but he refused, mocking her. He had said if she wanted photos, she should Photoshop them herself. He would never take them with her.

And now here he was, taking Iris for wedding photos.

"Claire, don't misunderstand. I've never taken wedding photos before. Calvin just said we should do it for a keepsake," Iris explained, taking Claire's hand. "Don't worry, Claire, I won't ruin your wedding."

Her words were humble, but Calvin pulled her into his arms.

"No need to ask her. I promised you: I'll only ever take wedding photos with you. Even if I marry her, I won't take a single photo with her."

His words stabbed Claire like a knife to the heart.

She should have hurt. Instead, she lowered her head and smiled.

"You two can take as many photos as you want. It has nothing to do with me."

She turned to a shop assistant. "I'll take this dress. Wrap it up for me."

"Calvin, what if I like this dress too?" Iris asked.

Without hesitation, Calvin handed a card to the clerk. "Charge it."

"Calvin, I saw it first!" Claire frowned, her face darkening. Why did Iris have to snatch everything she liked? Even the wedding dress?

"Claire, are you deliberately making Iris unhappy? I've already said I'll marry you. Iris just wants some wedding photos—isn't that enough?"

"She can take all the photos she wants. Calvin, I'll say it again: I won't marry you!"

"Really?"

Iris could hardly believe it.

Claire sneered. "Yes. I'll let you have your match—illegitimate son and illegitimate daughter, you're both made for each other."

"You! Shut up!" Calvin raised his hand, aiming for a slap.

Claire's gaze froze, icy. "Go ahead. If you have the guts, hit me."

"I don't hit women," he said.

"Really? You missed your chance today. Hope you don't regret it."

With that, Claire turned and walked away, leaving everyone speechless.

"Was she serious?"

"Of course not. Otherwise, why come here to pick a wedding dress? She still wants to marry Calvin."

"Calvin, shouldn't you call to check?"

Calvin frowned and called the family estate. The butler answered.

"Gregory, is the engagement between the Bennett and Aniston families still on?"

"Yes, Sir. Of course, it's on. Your grandfather has arranged everything. All that's left is bringing Miss Aniston here on the day."

"Hmph." Calvin hung up. "Just as I thought. She lied. She's loved me for so many years… Now that she's finally about to marry me, there's no way she'd cancel the engagement."

Iris clung to him. "It's okay, Calvin. I'm happy to take the photos. Nothing else matters."

"Let's finish these photos quickly, before Claire comes back and causes trouble."

His friends urged them on. It took the entire day to finish all the shots.

Claire went to another shop and picked out a wedding dress she somewhat liked.

The first thing she did upon returning to the villa was pack her luggage.

Once she finished, she noticed a post from Calvin's friend on social media.

[Congratulations to the happy couple.]

The post was a nine-grid collage of Calvin and Iris's wedding photos—three different outfits, three different scenes.

The constant, however, was Calvin's smile and the way he looked at Iris. After all these years, Claire had never seen that expression directed at her.

She silently tapped "like." Then, after storing her suitcase, she went to a real estate office.

Since she was moving out of the villa, she needed a new place to prepare as a bridal home. Her mother had always said she wanted to see her get married with her own eyes.

Claire fell in love with a fully furnished apartment that had a garden—and a pond, perfect for her two black swans. She swiped her card and bought it, then stopped by a mall to pick up some decorations for the wedding suite.

She spent the entire night arranging everything by herself until the bridal home was finally complete.

When she finished, she placed a photo of her mother on the cabinet.

"Mom, don't worry about me. I'll be happy, I promise."

The next morning, Claire returned to the villa. She was lucky—Calvin and Iris weren't there.

She went to the yard, had the two swans taken away, and ordered the servants to drain the pond.

"Miss, wasn't this pond built at your request? You even said one swan for you, one for Sir…"

"Drain it," Claire said calmly. "My pendant fell in. I need to find it."

It took five hours for the pump to empty the small pond. Claire recovered her grandfather's emerald pendant, wiped it clean, and left with her luggage.

The servants panicked when they saw her leaving.

"Miss Aniston, where are you going? In a few days, you're supposed to marry Sir! Why are you suddenly leaving?"

"I'm not marrying Calvin," she said, walking away without looking back.

She moved into the apartment she had bought, staring at the fully decorated wedding suite with a hollow feeling in her chest. She was about to go to the supermarket to stock the fridge when the doorbell rang incessantly.

Claire opened the door to find a scowling Calvin, a teary-eyed Iris, and a few of his smug friends crowding the hallway.

She frowned. "What are you all doing here?"

"See, Calvin? We were right!" one friend jeered. "She really did buy a secret bridal home. She wants to get married from here!"

"And she's already decorated it!" another chimed in. "And she says she won't marry you? What a load of crap!"

"Bet she disappeared these last few days just to make you come crawling to pick her up on the wedding day."

Calvin's friends looked Claire up and down, their scorn plain.

"Seriously, Calvin doesn't even like you. Marrying you is already doing you a favor. And you think you get to make some grand exit? Your demands are ridiculous."

It was true—Claire had considered it. With the Aniston family home gone, she had nowhere else. If she were to marry Calvin, she needed a wedding suite, a place to leave from.

But now, she'd only decorated this place so her late mother could see it.

Calvin's gaze swept the room, sharp and cold as ice.

"Did I give you permission to decorate? I told you not to touch a thing at home, and you went behind my back, moved out, and did all this?"

"Claire, you really didn't have to go this far," Iris spoke up, her eyes welling. "I thought you were really stepping aside for me, but you were just setting me up."

Their voices buzzed in Claire's ears, worsening her headache. "Get out. This is my house."

Calvin grabbed her wrist, his grip tight. "Claire, don't you feel pathetic? What's the point of all this? You think I'd actually come here to pick you up? I already told you—on the wedding day, you go alone. I'm not coming."

"Let go of me!" Claire wrenched her arm free, anger rising hot in her chest. "Calvin, you don't have the right to pick me up! The man I'm marrying isn't even you—"

"Still putting on an act?" he cut her off, voice dangerous. "Want me to smash every last thing in here?"

Claire's breath caught in panic. "Don't you dare, Calvin!"

Calvin sneered. "Why wouldn't I dare? You used my card to buy a house. This house is mine! I can do whatever I want with it!"

"I didn't use your card! I bought this house myself!"

"You have money?" Calvin glared at her. "Your family went bankrupt long ago. Where would you get the money for a house? Even if you somehow had it, it would still be from the Bennett family!"

"Exactly. Claire, Calvin has treated you well all these years."

His friends chimed in one after another, while Iris wailed even louder. "Calvin, don't pressure Claire! She just wants to have a grand wedding!"

Before she could finish, Calvin drew a deep breath. "Fine, I won't smash it. But you're leaving. Now. Claire, my patience with you has run out."

"Calvin, this house is mine! I didn't use your credit card!"

"Throw her luggage out."

Calvin didn't even wait for a response. His friends immediately started tossing Claire's bags outside.

Watching her carefully packed home being destroyed piece by piece, Claire finally broke.

"Calvin! Stop! Or I'll call the police!"

"Police? Let's see if they dare to interfere!"

He was right. The Bennett family wielded immense power; even if the police came, they might not be able to touch him.

She could only watch as they threw all her belongings to the ground, and with it, the last shred of love she had for him vanished completely.

"And this!"

Iris grabbed her mother's photograph and hurled it against the wall.

Shards of glass and broken frames scattered across the floor. Claire's eyes turned red with fury as she clutched Iris by the throat.

"Who allowed you to touch my mom's photo?!"

"Cough! Cough! You're crazy—Calvin, help me!"

Iris gasped for air, turning to Calvin for rescue.

Without hesitation, Calvin shoved her away. "Claire, let go! Or I'll kill you!"

Claire's head slammed against the wall. Blood trickled down her forehead.

She met his furious gaze with an icy smile. “You'd better keep a close eye on your little mistress. Otherwise… I might just kill her too.”

“I've never seen anyone so heartless!” he snarled, pulling Iris protectively against him. “Claire, if you just leave Iris alone, I'll give you the title of my wife. But my life with her is none of your business. Get rid of those feelings that don't belong to you—otherwise, our friendship of over ten years is over.”

His friends shut the door behind them, took Claire's keys, and left in a loud, arrogant procession.

As they walked away, Iris flashed her a triumphant smirk.

Alone, Claire sank to her knees in the doorway, helplessly gathering the shattered pieces of her mother's photograph.

“Mom… I'm so sorry. My life is such a mess right now. But don't worry. Once I'm married, no one will ever bully me again.”

She picked up her scattered luggage and left the apartment.

A light rain fell from the overcast sky as she walked, watching people hurry past. She tried calling Grandpa George, but after several unanswered calls to the Bennett family, she had no choice but to spend the night sitting on the curb.

As darkness settled, she finally decided to look for a hotel.

But just a few steps away, a group of rough-looking men emerged from an alley.

Their eyes locked onto her.

“Well, look what we have here,” the leader said, his gaze sweeping over Claire's face and figure. “Not bad at all. Lost money tonight, but seems we might get lucky in other ways.”

They moved toward her. Without hesitation, Claire dropped her suitcase, clutched her mother's photo to her chest, and ran as fast as she could.

Wasn't today already bad enough? Why was this happening, too?

“Hey! She's running! After her!”

Their menacing shouts followed her through the rain. Claire ran desperately, the downpour soaking her hair and clothes.

A car sped toward her.

The screech of tires pierced the night before the impact sent her crashing violently to the ground.