Gretchen forced a bitter smile.

The sting of alcohol disinfecting her wound couldn’t compare to the constant stinging ache Bernard caused her.

Outside the dressing room, she could vaguely hear Bernard and Marjorie laughing.

“Bernie, when I’m better, can you take me shopping for dresses?”

Bernard’s voice was affectionate. “No need for you to pick. I’ll just have the whole store moved to my place. You can keep what you like and throw away what you don’t.”

Marjorie giggled.

“Aww, Bernie, you’re too good to me,” she said. Then, she added, “Can I come to your family dinner later? I want to meet your parents.”

Bernard paused for a moment.

“Our family dinner? It’s just going to be loud and boring. I’ll take Gretchen to make an appearance for my parents, then I’ll come down and spend time with you. I just use her to entertain Mom and Dad, you know. Nothing more.”

At the dinner, Bernard was lost in his thoughts.

He barely touched his food, either texting away or smiling faintly to himself.

Reinhold, his father, raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Bernard, what’s got you in such a good mood?”

Bernard’s smile grew even wider. “Well, my girl treats me really well.”

Reinhold and Dolores exchanged delighted glances before asking in unison, “Which girl?”

Bernard raised a proud eyebrow, his eyes flicking toward Gretchen.

“Who else could it be? Of course, it’s—”

Just then, his phone rang, and Gretchen saw the name on the screen: [Baby Marjorie]

Bernard ignored the surprised looks from the table and picked up the call immediately.

Marjorie’s sweet voice came through the speaker. “Bernie, are you done? It’s so cold here in the car.”

Bernard chided her lightly. “Turn the heat up, silly girl!”

Gretchen listened, her face expressionless. Once the call ended, Bernard stood up quickly.

“Dad, Mom, something came up. I gotta go now.” He turned to Gretchen. “Gretchen, you stay and chat with them for me.”

Reinhold frowned deeply. “What’s so urgent? Look at Gretchen, her arm’s still in a bandage. If you’re leaving, at least take her home first.”

But Gretchen was tired of watching Bernard show off his affection with Marjorie. “There’s no need, Uncle Terrence. I’ll head home on my own later. I don’t wanna trouble Bernard.”

“That’s not happening,” Reinhold insisted. “Bernard, take Gretchen home first.”

As Gretchen followed Bernard down the hall, he suddenly stopped at a corner.

“Didn’t know you had it in you. What kind of spell did you put on my dad to make him like you so much, Gretchen?”

Gretchen responded coolly. “I have no idea.”

Bernard’s face darkened, his brows knitting together. “Listen, Gretchen, don’t try to pull this attitude with me. Did I not make myself clear enough?”

Gretchen stared at him steadily. “Go ahead. Say what you need to say.”

Bernard tilted his head, a smirk pulling at his lips.

“Our parents decided on our marriage, and I’ll keep my word and marry you. But after that, how I treat you—that’s a different story.”

Gretchen’s heart sank as the words hit her. “And then?”

Bernard let out a dry chuckle. “And then? I’ll spend my life with the woman I truly love. I’ve never met anyone as sweet and kind as she is.”

Gretchen’s voice echoed through the parking garage as she choked out, “You mean… Marjorie?”

Bernard’s expression turned cold. “I’m warning you—don’t badmouth Marjorie to my parents. She’s nothing like you—she doesn’t have your hidden agendas. If I ever catch you—”

“Bernie!”

A sharp, ear-piercing sound cut through the air, and Gretchen felt like her eardrums were about to burst.

“Someone… someone…”

Bernard sniffled then sprinted toward the car like he was in a hundred-meter race while Gretchen limped after him.

When she finally reached the car, she saw what happened: Marjorie’s high heels had gotten scuffed somehow, leaving a noticeable patch where the paint was chipped.

“What am I going to do, Bernie? It looks so ugly now!”

Bernard was about to get in the car when his phone buzzed with a reminder of his appointment—it was the shareholder meeting for one of his hotels, something he couldn’t skip.

“I’ll have the driver take you to IFC to buy a new pair,” he said, then turned to Gretchen. “You’re not busy, right? Go with Marjorie.”

He added, “Her back’s hurt from dancing, so she can’t bend down. You can help her change shoes.”

Marjorie smiled sweetly, her dimples shallow and delicate. “Thanks for helping me, Gret—”

“I’m busy,” Gretchen cut in.

Bernard looked like he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. “What did you say, Gretchen?”

Gretchen didn’t hesitate to repeat herself. “I’ve got other things to do. I’m busy.”

With that, she turned and walked out of the parking lot, heading straight for a designer jewelry shop.

Even though the engagement ceremony wasn’t as formal as a wedding, she still needed an engagement ring.

She picked out a plain silver ring—no diamonds, no flashy plating. The design was simple and timeless, but the thick band made her fingers look even longer and more elegant.

The sales assistant greeted her with a polite smile. “Are you buying one ring or a pair, Ma’am?”

“A pair,” Gretchen answered.

“What’s the gentleman’s size, Ma’am? I can check if it needs to be custom-made.”

“Size 23,” Gretchen answered automatically.

As soon as the words left her mouth, she realized her mistake.

That was Bernard’s size. She knew it because, once upon a time, she’d secretly measured his finger while he was napping. But that detail didn’t matter anymore.

The sales assistant noticed her hesitation and reassured her with a warm smile.

“We can adjust the size for any ring—male or female. Why don’t you pick the design you like first, Ma’am?”

Gretchen finalized the order, arranged to pick it up in a week, and headed home feeling satisfied.

But while she was still in the cab on the way back, her phone rang. The sales assistant was on the other end, her voice trembling with panic.

In the background, Gretchen heard a familiar woman’s voice.

“Business is about selling to the highest bidder, isn’t it? I’m offering 10 times the price!”

Her chest started racing. “What happened?”

The sales assistant’s voice cracked, sounding like she was on the verge of tears. “There… There’s a woman who came in, and… and she really wants the ring you ordered, Ma’am. She’s demanding we… we sell it to her.”

That familiar voice interrupted again, sharp and entitled. “Here’s my payment. I’m taking it. My fiancé said if you don’t sell it to me, your stop won’t even open tomorrow!”

And then, the line abruptly went dead.

Gretchen didn’t need to guess. She knew exactly who the demanding customer was—Marjorie.

She closed her eyes briefly to compose herself, and then she pulled out her phone and dialed Marjorie’s number. The phone rang four times before it was answered, but the voice on the other end wasn’t Marjorie's.

It was Bernard. “Gretchen, you’ve got some nerve to lie to me. You said you were busy, but you were just out shopping instead!”

Gretchen didn’t even acknowledge his accusation. Her tone was cold and steady when she said, “Give it back.”

Bernard played dumb. “Give what back?”

After a pause, maybe realizing he couldn’t talk his way out of it, he finally said, “You mean the ring? Come on, Marjorie really likes it. Just let her have it.”

But Gretchen didn’t waver. “Why should I? Give it back to me.”

For a moment, Bernard was stunned. But when he spoke again, his tone was icy. “Hey, who do you think you’re talking to, huh?”

In the background, Marjorie’s sweet voice chimed in, full of fake innocence.

“Oh no, did I take something Gretchen liked? Bernie, don’t blame her. I’ll give it back if it’s such a big deal…”

Bernard gritted his teeth, his voice low and clearly restrained.

“Gretchen, can you stop being so difficult? I can call off the engagement anytime before it happens, you know.”

Gretchen replied calmly, “Suit yourself.”

After that, silence hung heavy in the air until Marjorie spoke again. “Gretchen, don’t be mad. I’ll give it back to you soon.”

Later that day, the doorbell rang at Gretchen’s place.

When she opened the package, she found the engagement ring—cut into four jagged pieces as if by wire cutters.

Along with it was a note.

[Gretchen, I promised Bernie I’d give it back to you. So… does this mean you’re not mad at me anymore?]

Before she could process her anger, the doorbell rang again.

It was Bernard, standing outside.

Gretchen’s hands trembled, but she refused to acknowledge him.

But he wouldn’t stop pressing the doorbell.

“Gretchen, open the door. Let me explain.”

Unable to take the noise anymore, Gretchen flung the door open. Bernard stood there, his hair a mess, his face full of impatience.

“I’ll compensate you for it,” he said. “How much do you want? Five thousand? Ten thousand?”

Gretchen closed her eyes briefly and shook her head. “It’s not about the money.”

“Then what is it? Didn’t you go through all this trouble to marry me for money?” Bernard’s voice was dripping with annoyance. “Gretchen, stop playing games. I told you before—you can’t have it all. With me, it’s either money or feelings. You can only pick one.”

Gretchen met his gaze, her face expressionless. “Is that so? Then I don’t want any of that.”

With that, she slammed the door shut.

Bernard stood frozen in shock, but anger quickly took over. He pounded on the door, shouting, “Gretchen, what the hell is that supposed to mean? Open the door and explain yourself! It’s just a stupid ring—why are you making such a big deal out of it?!”

Inside, Gretchen slid down to the floor slowly, listening to his muffled shouting in a daze.

Suddenly, her phone buzzed. It was Rheinold.

“Gretchen, Terrence came back early. He’s here with me right now. Do you have time to come over?”

Terrence—Bernard’s older cousin and the key figure in the family business.

He graduated from Harvard with a repurposing for staying out of the spotlight, but it was well-known that he managed more than half of the Golbersteins Co.’s major operations.

The young man was the most important and capable member of his generation, far ahead of everyone else in the family.

Gretchen vaguely remembered meeting him once as a child—a quiet, composed figure.

The invitation caught her off guard, especially since it was earlier than planned. But still, she agreed.

“Of course, Uncle Reinhold. I’m free.”

The old man chuckled on the other end of the line. “Oh, Gretchen, you’ve really got such a great personality— gorgeous and competent! We’re so lucky to have you in our family! Very well, I’ll send a driver to pick you up right away!”

After hanging up, Gretchen began to worry. Marjorie ruined her engagement ring, and her partner’s ring, which she had customized in a rush, was now useless too.

Still, after a moment’s thought, she carefully wrapped the broken pieces of the ring, placed them in a box, and tucked it into her purse.

As she stepped outside, a voice stopped her. “Where are you off to?”

Apparently, Bernard hadn’t left.

He leaned lazily against his car, his eyes scanning Gretchen’s from head to toe. His tone was dripping with sarcasm.

“Got your hair done? Wearing a dress? What, you’re heading to a red-carpet event?”

But Gretchen just ignored him completely, walking straight to the car Reinhold had sent.

Bernard’s smirk faded when she didn’t respond. He opened the car door and slid into the front passenger seat.

“It’s my family’s car. I can ride in it too.”

The driver then looked uneasy. “S-Sir, your father sent me to pick up Miss Marxhausen.”

Bernard snapped, “Wherever she’s going, I’m going too. Got a problem with that?”

With that, the car sped down the road and finally came to a stop in front of the Golbersteins’s Garden Café.