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...

Molly had always known he had a good body—the kind that looked lean in clothes but revealed solid muscle underneath.

Especially that waist. So narrow.

When her eyes met Miles's, his brows and lashes still damp with steam, her heart began to pound involuntarily.

That face, that body... never having slept with him really was a waste.

Molly averted her gaze, embarrassed, not wanting to come across like some kind of pervert.

"Your mom's calling for you."

She turned to leave, but a cool, low voice came from behind her. "Wait."

Footsteps drew closer. Remembering he wasn't wearing anything, her back went rigid.

Miles walked up behind her. He noticed her ears gradually flushing red, the color spreading down to her nape. Her skin, smooth as jade, was tinged with a faint blush—quite enticing.

"Never seen a man without clothes before?" Miles said, circling around to face her.

Molly's face was burning now. She glared at him, her eyes full of wariness. "What are you... trying to do?"

Miles said nothing, just stood there watching her with lowered lids.

Molly was confused. She touched her face—nothing stuck to it, right?

"Never mind. I'll head down."

Molly: "..."

She couldn't understand what that had been about. Was he showing off his physique?

Still, she noticed that ever since they'd decided to act as siblings, the atmosphere between them had become much more relaxed.

Downstairs, Mrs. Vance took her hand. "Molly, our mother-daughter-in-law bond really was too brief. But don't worry—I won't let you leave empty-handed. Half of everything under Miles's name—the properties, investments, shares—it's yours."

Molly was stunned. "Mom, no, I couldn't—"

Seeing her refuse, Mrs. Vance began persuading her. "When a woman asks for nothing in a divorce, the man won't be grateful. He'll just think you're stupid. Don't be one of those lovesick fools!"

Miles, coming down the stairs: "..."

"Besides... all that money still couldn't repay what your family did for us," Mrs. Vance added.

Years ago, Mr. Vance and Miles had been in an accident. Molly's father happened upon them and saved both their lives.

That act of heroism brought disaster upon him. He died in a fire.

It was clearly her father who had saved them, yet her foolish son insisted his rescuer had been a woman.

The thought made Mrs. Vance angry all over again. "Miles cheated during the marriage. He should leave with nothing."

"Miles is your son," Molly reminded her quietly.

"If I'd known he'd turn out this stupid, I'd rather have given birth to a roast pork bun!"

Molly's fingers brushed her nose as she stole a glance at Miles.

His cold gaze was locked on her, a half-smile playing on his lips—dangerous and unsettling.

She hadn't asked for his money. His mother was the one insisting!

"My father saved those people because he wanted to. If it had been anyone else in danger, he would have done the same. As for the debt—I think it's already been repaid."

Her father had been a talented jewelry designer who ran a successful fashion company.

After his death, the company fell into chaos and was gradually carved up by others.

It was Mr. Vance who bought the worthless shell and folded it into the Vance Group, holding it in trust until she was old enough to take over.

Two months ago, the company had been placed in her hands.

Mrs. Vance wouldn't accept that as her only settlement. She also gave Molly the trading company at The Industrial Park, plus an entire block of storefronts in Harbor City's prime district. Mr. Vance hadn't been stingy either—he'd given her three percent of the Vance Group shares.

In short, this one divorce had made her a very wealthy woman.

Mrs. Vance told the lawyer to handle everything immediately. Then she turned and saw her son still staring at Molly. She kicked him. "Do you agree or not?"

Miles lounged with his arms draped casually over the sofa, looking effortlessly relaxed. "It's your money. Not my business."

Satisfied with his attitude, Mrs. Vance sent Molly upstairs to fetch a jewelry box from her room.

Once she was gone, Mrs. Vance turned to her son. "Beautiful, isn't she? Absolutely gorgeous. It's not too late to regret this, you know."

"What would I regret? I just noticed she has a mole on the tip of her nose."

"Oh? One little mole and you can't look away?" She snorted. "Keep pretending. You think I don't know you? I pushed you out of my own body."