Things on Molly's end had reached a boiling point.

She delegated tasks one by one, then touched base with the client. When she spotted Miles, she was caught off guard for a moment.

Miles was handsome—his dark suit tailored perfectly to his tall frame—but the hard lines of his face and the cold edge in his gaze when he looked at her killed any thought of admiring the view.

Felix jogged over, looking pleased with himself. "Molly, my brother's here to help you out."

Miles, helping her?

If he'd really wanted to help, he would've come in with her when she got out of the car. The fact that he'd waited this long meant his mother must have chewed him out again.

She had no use for his reluctant charity. "I can handle this myself."

Her refusal made Miles's brow furrow deeply.

"This is company business. You don't get to throw a tantrum."

A tantrum?

In his eyes, she was either scheming or throwing tantrums—just some conniving woman who couldn't separate work from personal feelings, right?

Molly didn't bother explaining. She turned to leave.

Miles grabbed her wrist, displeasure written all over his face. "What kind of attitude is that?"

His grip hurt. She tried to pull free, but he only tightened his hold, his gaze cutting into her like a blade.

She let out a dry laugh. "Attitude? This is exactly how you've treated me for three years. I do it once, and Mr. Vance can't take it?"

Miles went still for a moment.

Molly wrenched her wrist from his grasp and shook it out—a red ring already forming on her skin—before walking into the office.

Miles's expression turned dark. He'd never imagined the wife who always hovered around him would bite back so sharply.

It left a sour knot in his chest.

Felix was equally stunned, scratching the bridge of his nose. "Is that really Molly?"

Before, the moment she heard Miles was back in the country, Molly would cook his favorite dishes herself and wait for him to come home.

When he didn't show, she'd come looking for Felix. "Felix, could you take the food to him?"

There had been eagerness in her eyes—and hope that her husband might finally see her.

But now...

"What do we do now?" Felix asked.

"This is a Vance subsidiary. There's a billion-dollar export contract on the line."

Right. So they were helping whether she liked it or not.

To keep the two of them from fighting while still getting things done, Felix stepped in as mediator.

"Molly, this is the perfect chance to spend time with him—let him really get to know you."

Molly finished replying to a work message before answering. "Save that chance for someone else."

Felix's jaw dropped. He leaned closer, pushing harder. "Walking away now would be such a waste. You haven't even slept with him yet, and he's gorgeous."

Molly nodded. "Gorgeous." Her best friend had described Miles the same way. He really was a beautiful man.

"Felix, let me ask you something. If you saw a perfect apple covered in someone else's saliva, would you still take a bite?"

Felix fell silent.

So... she was calling his brother dirty.

Before he could say anything else, Molly's assistant pushed through the door. "Ms. Harding, we've borrowed everyone we could. They've already started working."

"Good. I'll go check on them." She headed for the door, but the assistant added, "Everyone's saying Sibyl Edwards is here."

Molly's steps faltered. She turned back to Felix with a smile. "As long as he stays, I'll definitely seize this 'perfect chance.'"

Felix was speechless.

Why was Sibyl showing up now to stir things up?

At the office building entrance, Molly ran into Miles, who was about to leave.

"Something important came up. I'll have Felix stay and help you."

Molly gave him a tight smile. "Sure."

Felix grabbed Miles before he could walk off, shooting him a meaningful look. "Didn't you just say this is a Vance subsidiary with a billion-dollar contract on the line? Nothing's more urgent or important than this right now, right?"

She didn't wait for Miles's answer. She walked away, because she already knew what it would be.

Anything involving Sibyl was always important.

She, Molly Harding, would never be important—and would never be chosen.

She was grateful she hadn't let Felix's talk of "the perfect chance" get her hopes up. Otherwise, how badly would her face be stinging right now?

Miles didn't get home until well past midnight.

In one corner of the living room, the suitcase he'd brought back yesterday sat untouched, exactly where he'd left it.

He thought of Molly.

For the past three years, he'd been living abroad. Every time he returned, she would greet him with that eager, ingratiating smile. His suitcase was heavy—heavy enough to make her slender frame tilt to one side—yet she'd still haul it upstairs, huffing with effort the whole way.

The way she used to look at him, all shy adoration. Nothing like this time.

He glanced at his phone. Multiple missed calls, most from Felix. None from her.

He called Felix back.

It took a while before the line connected. "Miles, I'm still working."

"Working with Molly?" Miles was skeptical. The factory situation was urgent, but hardly complicated.

"Yeah. Still at the Industrial Park."

Miles frowned. "It's taking this long to handle something that minor? What exactly is Molly doing over there?"

Felix felt a pang of indignation on Molly's behalf. "This wasn't what we thought—some simple mistake by the packaging supplier that could be fixed with a reprint or a new vendor. This was deliberate sabotage, designed to make sure the first shipment couldn't go out. If it weren't for Molly, we'd have been completely screwed."

Harbor City had a traditional preserved fruit specialty with a fixed annual export quota of two billion dollars to Japan and Korea. This year, one billion of that had been entrusted to a trading company under the Vances.

Today was supposed to be the first shipment. But the packaging materials for a hundred thousand units failed to meet standards. The designer had vanished. The manufacturer claimed ignorance. No other company had enough stock to replace or supplement on short notice.

When Miles arrived at the Industrial Park, Felix practically threw himself at him. "Miles, can you even imagine? Every single person in this entire complex has been working overtime, hand-labeling a hundred thousand packages. I've never suffered like this in my entire life!"

Miles pressed his lips into a thin line. He searched for a while before he finally spotted Molly near the entrance of the Sterile Workshop, peeling off her cleanroom suit.

Under the harsh fluorescent lights that made the space bright as noon, the glow fell across her face. Even from a distance, he could see her clearly.

Her bone structure was striking. Porcelain skin without a trace of makeup. The predawn chill cut deep, and she'd wrapped herself in a drab gray cashmere blanket, yet she still looked stunning—effortlessly, devastatingly beautiful.

Molly was finishing up a conversation with the current general manager. The man was in his forties, a full head taller than her, yet he listened to her with obvious deference.

"Miles, Molly didn't get where she is just because of your parents' help, you know?"

Felix was reminding him: when it came to Molly, Miles didn't just lack understanding—he was deeply prejudiced.

When Molly walked past Miles, she acted as though she hadn't seen him.

It wasn't deliberate coldness. She simply hadn't slept in over twenty-four hours, and by now, she was running on fumes.

"About today—I misjudged the situation. I'm sorry." His voice was quiet.

Molly hadn't expected an apology from Miles. She paused, tilting her head to look at him.

"Felix told me everything. If it weren't for you, the company would've been in serious trouble."

Printing the missing product labels, then applying them by hand—the solution was crude, but it was the only option available.

She had stayed calm under pressure, made quick decisions. She was sharp, capable, someone who solved problems.

For the first time, Molly saw something in his eyes that looked like genuine appreciation. Not that familiar icy disdain.

Her nose stung.

Three years. This was the first time he'd ever looked at her without hostility—and it had to be now, when she'd already decided on divorce.

She dropped her gaze. "Just doing my job. Can't exactly collect a paycheck for nothing."

After that, neither of them spoke.

Miles watched the night wind lift strands of her hair. She tucked her pale, slender neck deeper into the blanket for warmth. "I don't know you well," he said, "but my parents genuinely care about you. That says a lot about who you are. But there's someone else in my heart. I made her a promise—that I'd marry her—and I won't go back on my word. From now on, if you ever run into trouble, I'll have your back. As your brother."

He stood in the path of the wind. Carried on the cold night air was the faint trace of that woman's perfume.

A fine, piercing ache spread through Molly's chest. Tears welled in her eyes.

"I hope you two are happy together," she managed, her voice catching.

In the end, Molly couldn't bring herself to call him "brother."

Because she really did love him.

Loved him so much that when he looked at her with indifference, she pretended not to notice. As long as she could be near him, she was happy.

But he simply didn't love her back.

The woman in his heart meant too much to him. He wouldn't even give Molly a chance—wouldn't try to get to know her.

Still, she had to admire him. In this fast-paced world, staying devoted to one person was rare.

Well, at least I have good taste in men!

So she was willing to step aside and let him have his happiness.

Miles said she could come get the brooch whenever she wanted, or he'd have it delivered.

The moment Molly agreed, she felt lighter than she had in years.

I'm a good person, she told herself. Someday, someone will treasure me too.

When Mrs. Vance heard that Sibyl had once again pulled her son away at a critical moment, she slammed her hand on the table.

"That woman isn't worth half of what Molly is! What's gotten into Miles? I need to find a way to get those two together properly. A beauty like Molly, with that sweet temperament—she's exactly his type!"

"Mom, save your energy. I already talked to Molly." Miles walked in, half-dragging an exhausted Felix behind him. He raised an eyebrow at his parents, still awake at three in the morning.

"Talked about what?"

"Once I've recovered from the jet lag, we're getting divorced." He loosened his collar and sank onto the sofa.

"Molly agreed to this?" Mrs. Vance sounded skeptical.

"She did. I just dropped her off at home. She even wished me well." He paused. "Just as you wanted—from now on, we're siblings."

Mrs. Vance hadn't expected them to have already settled it between themselves.

"That girl was in the bloom of her youth when she married into this family. You treated her like a decoration for three years, and now you're just... done? Miles, are you sure you won't regret this?"

"I won't."

Mrs. Vance was too choked up to argue further. She grabbed her husband's arm and pulled him toward the stairs, muttering as she went: "He doesn't want someone as wonderful as Molly, but he's obsessed with that woman. His eyes might be fixed, but there's clearly something wrong with his head. Absolutely hopeless."

Molly had pulled two all-nighters in a row. When she finally woke, it was already afternoon.

The smell of cooking drifted into her room. She wandered out of the bedroom and found her best friend Kirsten in the kitchen, stirring a pot of congee.

Molly leaned against the doorframe, smiling. "Well, hello there, little fairy godmother."

"Your Highness." Kirsten curtsied dramatically. "Ready to wash up and eat?"

Molly was starving. She freshened up quickly and sat down at the table, eating while she talked. "Weren't you supposed to be in South District for that shoot?"

"Your mother-in-law was worried about you. Asked me to come keep an eye on you." Kirsten set a bowl of congee in front of her. "So... you and Miles. It's really happening?"

"Yeah."

"Six years of waiting, and this is how it ends?" Kirsten's voice rose with indignation. "If it weren't for you back then, Miles would be dead."

Molly watched her friend work herself up again. "I'm tired. Honestly, seeing how committed he is to Sibyl... I found it kind of moving."

"Moving? What about you? You were so young when you—can you really just walk away?"

Molly's lashes trembled. "The only one I can't walk away from is his mother."

That made Kirsten laugh despite herself. "Maybe the divorce is for the best. Harbor City's full of men better than Miles. Come out with me tonight—I'll find you a few."

"Deal." Molly didn't hesitate. "But they have to be good-looking."

She'd barely finished speaking when her phone rang. Mrs. Vance, asking her to come to the old estate for dinner and discuss how to divide the assets.

Molly picked up some pastries Mrs. Vance liked on the way over.

In the living room, both of Miles's parents were waiting, along with a lawyer.

"Molly dear, go drag that idiot son of mine down here," Mrs. Vance said.

Molly climbed the stairs and knocked on Miles's door. She waited. No answer.

She stepped inside. The room was empty. She was heading toward the study when a sound behind her made her turn.

Miles had just walked out of the bathroom—

Water still dripping from his body, his usually immaculate hair falling damp across his forehead. Droplets traced a path down from his hairline, sliding over his shoulders, trailing along the defined lines of his chest and abdomen before disappearing beneath the towel wrapped low around his hips...