My fiancé, Grayson Sterling, abandoned me at our engagement party in Manhattan, leaving me utterly humiliated in front of all of New York's high society. So, I chose to disappear completely.

Everyone knew that Grayson Sterling, the heir to the Sterling Group, loved his fiancée more than anything. I was not only his partner but also the corporation's lead scientist, the cornerstone of his business empire. I thought I stood at the very top of New York's social pyramid.

Until six months ago, when my father's illegitimate daughter, Scarlett Monroe, reappeared.

Grayson realized she was the very girl who had saved his life during an avalanche.

From that moment on, everything changed.

Every time we had a date, Scarlett would have a perfectly timed "PTSD episode." He would always justify his actions with a strained explanation: he owed her his life.

I endured it countless times, telling myself it was just an obligation.

But at my engagement party with Grayson, Scarlett suddenly collapsed, gasping for breath. "Grayson... I feel so sick... I can't breathe..."

The usually composed Grayson flew into a panic, and ignoring the live media cameras, he brought the glittering affair to a screeching halt.

He looked at me, his expression laced with guilt. "Cassia, it's because she saved me. She's fragile, and this is an emergency. You're always so reasonable. As the future matriarch of this family, you get it, don't you?"

“Go,” I said, my voice dangerously calm. “Get her to a hospital.”

Grayson froze for a moment, then hastily promised, "As soon as she's stable, I'll throw you an even grander wedding." He didn't even wait for my answer before scooping up Scarlett and rushing out.

I watched him leave and dialed a number I hadn't contacted in years. "Ronan Blackwood, I accept the five-year classified project—'Project Chimera.'"

Only when I was well and truly gone would Grayson be consumed by a regret so deep he would scour the globe for a ghost.

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1

At our engagement party, Grayson and I had just raised our glasses, ready to toast with our guests.

The entire venue was roaring with cheers when my father's illegitimate daughter, Scarlett, collapsed beside the champagne tower, sending a cascade of shattering glass across the floor and throwing the party into chaos.

"Grayson... I feel so sick... my heart..." she whimpered, clutching the dress over her chest.

Grayson panicked. Without a single glance at me on the stage, he bolted down and swept Scarlett into his arms. "Scarlett! Look at me! Breathe!"

He spun around and announced to the stunned crowd, "The party is off."

The guests whispered among themselves, and the stares of the socialites who usually fawned over me felt like needles. Grayson looked up at me. “You’ve always been so understanding, Cassia. This is an emergency. You get that, right?”

I gripped my wine glass until my knuckles turned white, but I maintained a flawless social smile.

For five years, I had built my world around Grayson—from my days in the Ivy League to my work in the Sterling Group’s core laboratory.

When I accepted his proposal at twenty-two, I believed we were soulmates, equals in every way.

Grayson had always been good to me, standing by my side when I hit a wall in my research and unearthing rare experimental data for me.

Until six months ago, when Scarlett returned, smelling of cheap perfume and armed with the story of how she'd saved him in an avalanche.

From then on, our dates were constantly sabotaged by Scarlett's "sudden illnesses." And Grayson always fell back on the "life debt" as his excuse.

I had always tolerated it, believing it was his responsibility to bear. But I was wrong. This wasn't about duty; it was about his indulgence.

"Go," I said. "Take her to Mount Sinai. It's the nearest emergency room."

Grayson froze, stunned. Did he expect me to cry? To beg him to stay? Seeing me so composed, his expression softened, tinged with guilt.

"Cassia, thank you for understanding," he promised. "When she's better, I'll give you an even more spectacular wedding." He didn't wait for my response before carrying her away in a frantic rush.

I pulled out my phone and dialed a long-dormant number. "Ronan Blackwood, I accept your offer."

Ronan's voice was deep and grave. “Are you absolutely sure, Cassia? Project Chimera is a counter-intelligence shield against national-level cyber threats. Once you’re in, you sign the highest-level non-disclosure. That means severing all ties. Legally, you cease to exist. You become a ghost.”

I stared at the empty space where Grayson had disappeared. "I've made up my mind. I only stayed because I thought there was someone worth staying for. Now, there's nothing left. As a scientist, I’d rather change the world than play house with his little pet project.”

Ronan sighed. "Understood. I'll have a security team extract you within twenty-four hours."

I returned home to find my father, Harrison Monroe, rummaging through my study. My mother's priceless research notes were scattered across the floor.

"What are you doing?" I asked, my voice cold.

Harrison's body stiffened. He straightened up, his posture defiant. "Cassia, you're back," he said, without a trace of shame. “Scarlett is here, and she’s not well. I’ve decided you will resign from your position as Lead Scientist. The title will go to her.”

He spoke in a commanding tone. "She's suffered so much. She needs this title to gain a foothold. You're marrying into the Sterling family; Grayson will provide for you. You have no need for these vanities."

Scarlett leaned against the doorframe, wearing my silk robe, her eyes red as if she might swoon at any moment. "Dad, don't... Cassia worked so hard for this... I don't want to cause trouble... If… if people can’t accept me, I can just disappear… go back to the slums where I belong…”

Harrison looked at her with pity, then turned to me and roared, “Look at her, so selfless! And then there’s you—cold and selfish to the bone! Is there not an ounce of sisterly feeling in you?”

I gazed at the two of them, my own heart perfectly still. This was my father, ready to hand over the position I had earned through years of tireless research to a high school dropout who couldn't recite the periodic table.

“If you want it, take it,” I sneered. “This entire operation has become a joke. A phony scientist for a pathetic family. A perfect match.”

Harrison's face turned purple with rage. "You ungrateful brat!"

I went back to my room and began to pack.

The next morning, I went to the penthouse apartment I was supposed to share with Grayson. Movers were carrying new furniture into the master bedroom. My personal belongings were tossed in boxes by the hallway.

Grayson came out of the room, a flicker of guilt on his face. “Cassia, the psychiatrist said Scarlett needs an environment where she can feel completely safe to recover. I let her move into the master bedroom for now. You can use the guest room. Don’t take this the wrong way, it’s just… part of her treatment. After we’re married, I’ll buy you an entirely new villa, I promise.”

I looked at the mess. The evidence of another woman had invaded my space like a virus.

The old me might have cried. Demanded to know why he hadn’t consulted me. But now? There was no storm in my chest, just a cold, hollowed-out void.

"She can stay as long as she wants," I said. "I don't care." I walked past him to retrieve my personal files from the study.

Grayson stood there, shocked by my compliance. It seemed to unnerve him. Watching me walk away, he reached out as if to help with my boxes.

"Cassia, are you upset? I promise, it's only for a week..."

I sidestepped his hand. "Don't bother. I can manage."

Grayson's hand froze in mid-air. He pressed his lips together, his jaw tightening. "Let the butler do it," he said softly. "Listen, if you're still angry about last night, I can..."

Before he could finish, his assistant, Liam O’Connell, materialized at his elbow, announcing an urgent board call.

Grayson hesitated, then tossed a hurried sentence over his shoulder. "I have to take this. We'll talk later." He turned and strode away.

Not long after he was gone, Scarlett appeared at the end of the hallway. She was still wearing that ill-fitting silk robe, and I could smell the faint scent of Grayson's expensive cologne on the collar.

She glided toward me with a provocative glint in her eyes, though her voice feigned weakness. "Moving out so soon? You must be exhausted. Grayson stayed with me all night, you know, helping me calm down... I feel so much better."

Then, she leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial hiss. “See? You can’t keep what was never really yours to begin with.”

Just then, I heard Grayson's footsteps descending the stairs.

The malice on Scarlett's face was wiped clean, replaced by a look of sheer terror. She had just reached the million-dollar white carpet when she deliberately tipped the glass of red wine in her hand, then threw herself backward with a piercing shriek.

"Cassia! It's okay, I won't take your room!"

Grayson arrived like a whirlwind. He saw the glaring red wine stain on the floor and the "frightened" Scarlett, and his composure completely shattered.

He whirled on me, his eyes blazing with disappointment and fury. "Cassia! I thought you were finally being reasonable, but I never imagined you could be so vicious! She's a patient!"

I said nothing. I just met his gaze coldly.

He didn't wait for an explanation. He rushed to Scarlett's side, helping her up as if she were a fragile porcelain doll.

In that moment, I remembered a business merger two years ago. To protect his company from a hostile takeover, I had pulled multiple all-nighters analyzing data for him, even shelving one of my own crucial research projects. I collapsed in the lab from hypoglycemia. When I woke up, the only thing beside me was a cold IV drip.

What had he said then? "There's too much to deal with after the merger. As the future Mrs. Sterling, I need you to be stronger."

So, he wasn't incapable of gentleness. He just reserved it for someone else.

A spilled glass of wine, and he acted as if Scarlett had taken a bullet. That blatant double standard finally extinguished the last flicker of love I had for him.

I watched their retreating backs and let out a self-mocking smile. My phone vibrated.

It was a text from Ronan Blackwood.

[Cassia, your extraction team is on standby. You can leave whenever you're ready.]

I replied without hesitation: [See you in two hours.]

I went back to my room to pack the last of my files and my mother's belongings.

However, when I opened the safe, my mind went blank.

It was gone. The paper manuscript of my mother's research was gone. It was the only original copy, a priceless treasure, and the last memento she had left me.

I knew exactly who had taken it. At that moment, my rage finally erupted.

Burning with a fury I could no longer contain, I stormed toward the lab.

I kicked the door open.

Scarlett was sitting alone at a lab bench. She was carelessly flipping through the manuscript, a vicious smirk on her face.

"Looking for this piece of junk?" She saw me, but there was no fear in her eyes, only crazed satisfaction. "Something this outdated doesn't belong here. It's an eyesore. I don't want this trash dirtying the office I'll be sharing with Grayson."

With that, she “accidentally” tipped over a bottle of corrosive acid sitting on the bench beside her.

The liquid splashed onto the manuscript, sending up plumes of acrid white smoke. My mother's precious handwriting dissolved into nothing.

"No—!"

Thought ceased. All that remained was a pure, searing hatred that eclipsed everything else.

I lunged. Before Scarlett could react, I slapped her across the face with all my might. The crisp sound echoed through the lab, and her cheek immediately began to swell.

The force of the blow sent her staggering into the lab bench. She let out a blood-curdling scream, but just as she fell, her eyes darted over my shoulder toward the door.

Heavy footsteps were approaching. Scarlett looked at the door and shot me a triumphant, defiant smile.