It was almost time.

Soon, I wouldn’t have to sit through this nauseating display of their twisted relationship.

At the dinner table, the old lady brought up the same topic as always—children.

"Lila, you're getting married soon. When do you plan to have children? When I was your age, Marcus' sister was already old enough to follow me to the fields."

Marcus' sister—Vivian’s mother.

I had heard the story before. After her parents passed away, Vivian moved in with her grandmother, living under the same roof as Marcus. He was eight years older, and with the old couple busy working all day, the responsibility of looking after her mostly fell on him.

Then he left for university, started a business, and barely returned home over the years.

The first reason was time.

The second—poverty.

He was so broke he couldn’t even afford the trip home.

When I first met him, he had just failed his first business venture. He was sleeping under a bridge, rummaging through trash for food.

All he had was a tattered black computer bag with an old, battered laptop inside.

That laptop held all his dreams.

He was the classic protagonist of this world—the self-made man from humble beginnings.

Then, a soft voice interrupted my thoughts.

"Grandma, she’s not the only one who can give Uncle a baby," Vivian whispered, her gaze flickering toward Marcus before quickly looking away.

I snapped back to reality, silently sipping my chicken soup. The chickens I raised myself—so even the broth tasted richer than anything outside.

Marcus' brows furrowed at her words. "My child will only be born by Lila."

Then, turning to his mother, he added, "Mom, stop pressuring Lila. We’re already planning for a baby. Maybe she’s already pregnant."

The old lady beamed with joy.

She eagerly ladled me another bowl of soup. "Lila, drink more! You’ll need the strength to give me a big, healthy grandson."

"Don’t worry about the wedding. Leave everything to Marcus. You just focus on resting and being a beautiful bride."

She was practically glowing, as if I were already pregnant.

What a joke.

"Grandma, I’ll go help at Uncle’s house!" Vivian chirped, her tone far too eager.

Ever since she moved to the city, she had been itching to live in our house.

"What can a child like you possibly help with?" The old lady muttered, debating whether to let her go.

Vivian pouted. "I’m not a child! I’ll be nineteen soon. I know how to pick a wedding dress, decorate the venue, even prepare a wedding speech—I’ve studied it all!"

Her eyes sparkled with excitement, as if she were the one getting married.

The old lady was so overjoyed she could barely keep her mouth shut.

"Alright, after your uncle gets married, it’s time for you to start thinking about love too. The old lady from next door has her eye on you—she wants to set you up with her grandson."

"Grandma, I already have someone I like," Vivian murmured, sneaking a shy glance at Marcus—so obvious she nearly said his name outright.

I nearly choked on my chicken soup.

Disgusting.

Marcus quickly handed me a glass of warm water, gently patting my back. "Lila, are you okay?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.

The old couple exchanged glances.

The old man, grinning ear to ear, took a big sip of wine.

They had been dreaming of a grandson for so long—how could they not be ecstatic?

The old lady smacked the old man’s arm with a scolding tone. "Drink less! You’ll be a grandfather soon."

At that, the old man quickly put down his glass. He had to quit drinking. He had to live long enough to meet his grandson.

Vivian suddenly muttered, "The chicken soup is too oily. I feel a little sick too."

No one responded.

No one cared.

The old lady, still buzzing with excitement, rushed to the kitchen and came back with a plate of freshly sliced lemons.

"Lila, eat something sour," she urged, her voice filled with old wives' wisdom. "Sour means a boy, spicy means a girl!"

Marcus, knowing full well that I hated lemons, gently pushed the plate aside.

"Mom, don’t worry," he said softly. "I’ll take good care of Lila."

"Alright, let Vivian stay at your house. The girl is sharp."

As soon as Vivian heard she could stay at my place, she rushed to grab a suitcase from the house, clearly prepared for this moment.

Marcus pressed his fingers to his temples in frustration. "You’re not going."

Vivian turned to me with pleading eyes. "Aunt, please? I’ll stay at your place for a few days and take care of you... and Uncle."

Take care of him? Sure, in every way possible.

I sighed and opened the co-pilot door. "Do whatever you want."

Vivian beamed and climbed into the back seat.

She really didn’t see herself as an outsider. After a while, she came out of the bathroom in a bikini, strolling casually through the living room.

When Marcus came out of his study, she was dancing to music on her phone.

His body stiffened, and the barely-contained desire in his eyes was unmistakable.

When he turned to look at me, he quickly masked his expression, but it was too late—I had already seen it.

I fanned the air, trying to cool the heat rising in my face. "You’re pathetic."

"Go back to your room." Marcus' voice was sharp now, his temper flaring.

Vivian pouted, the picture of innocence. "Uncle, I have to practice dancing every day..."

"Hmm, like a cat in heat."

Vivian blinked, the perfect image of confusion. "Who are you talking about? My uncle raised me. If you think dirty, that’s on you."

Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears as she looked at him, playing the victim like she always did.

The sad part? She was definitely more alluring to men now than she ever had been when she lived in the mountains.

Marcus' face hardened. "Enough."

"If I see you dressed like that in this house again, you’re out."

Vivian ran off in tears, leaving the tension thick in the air.

Marcus sighed deeply, his gaze softening as he turned to me. "Lila, don’t argue with a child. Maybe you’re carrying our baby. Don’t be upset, okay?"

He placed a large hand gently on my stomach, a gesture meant to comfort.

I smiled, but it didn’t reach my eyes. "No, not today. I got my period."

Marcus' shoulders slumped, disappointment flashing across his face. "I’ll try harder. I’ll make sure you become a mother sooner."

I couldn’t help but feel a cold emptiness at his words. No, Marcus. No.

Nine days. That’s all I had left. How could I possibly give birth to his child?

I woke up in the middle of the night, my throat dry with thirst. As I reached for the bedside, I realized he wasn’t beside me.

Marcus often worked late, choosing to sleep in the study to avoid disturbing my rest.

I grabbed my water cup and quietly made my way downstairs.

The moonlight filtered through the windows, casting everything in a soft, serene glow.

As I descended the stairs, a creaking sound reached my ears, coming from the study.

Since I’d gotten the cat, there had been no mice in the house.

I paused, taking a slow breath, and quietly made my way toward the source of the sound.

The door to the study room was slightly ajar, warm, yellow-orange light spilling out from the crack.

I approached, drawn by some invisible force, and peeked inside.

What I saw made my breath catch in my throat.

Two bodies were tangled together on the desk, their forms barely distinguishable against the dark wood.

Vivian’s slender body was a sharp contrast to the desk. She bit her lips, her face flushed with passion, her long nails digging into Marcus' back.

"Stop," he murmured, his voice low, but his body didn’t stop moving.

Vivian buried her head in his neck, her voice thick with tears and something darker. "Uncle Marcus, I am your legitimate little wife..."

"Shut up. Don’t wake her up," Marcus growled, his words a mix of command and desperation.

Marcus.

You deceived me.

Eight years ago, I came into this world, depending on him for everything.

Marcus fought for me. He took a brick to the head to protect me. He would cancel important meetings just to celebrate my birthday. He remembered every little detail—my preferences, my moods, even my menstrual cycle.

The office staff used to joke that the president was a love-struck fool.

I had come here for a reason, to save him. To help the poor boy become the king of this world.

My mission was completed five years ago. But for him, I chose to stay in this world.

It turns out that all of it was a lie. The love he claimed to have for me? Fake. Even deep love can be nothing more than an act.

In the study, the two of them were entangled, oblivious to everything around them.

My heart felt like it was being shredded into pieces. The pain was unbearable, so intense that I could hardly breathe.

I don’t even know how I made it back to the bedroom.

It was almost over.

Just a little longer.

I would leave him soon.

And from that moment on, everything about him would cease to matter to me.

The next morning, the smell of breakfast wafted through the house.

Marcus had gotten up early to make breakfast.

"Baby caught a cold last night..." Vivian’s voice was raspy, like she had been crying for hours.

I stopped at the corner of the stairs. "Baby? Who’s Baby?"

Both of them turned to look at me.

Marcus was quick to recover, his voice steady. "No, it’s just a nickname for children. Vivian was talking about her best friend."

He hurried over, pulling out a stool for me with a forced cheerfulness. "Good girl, I made your favorite steamed buns today. Try it."

He took my hand and sat me down, serving me soup. His movements were careful, as though he feared the soup might burn me. He picked up a small spoon, feeding me bite by bite.

"Good girl," he said softly. "I know you’re on your period. I made this hot soup just for you. After breakfast, we’ll go try on wedding dresses."

He wore an apron, his sharp jawline and defined features adding to his charm. He looked at me with so much tenderness, it almost hurt.

Good man. Good husband. That’s what everyone thought of him.

---

Later, at the bridal shop, as the Maybach rolled to a stop, the clerks rushed to greet us.

"Miss Lila, you look stunning in this dress, like a fairy descending from the heavens. Mr. Rivers truly adores you—he spent one million to have our chief designer make this just for you."

"Yes, Mr. Rivers is handsome and wealthy. You two will be so happy together after the wedding."

They helped me into the wedding dress, their voices dripping with admiration.

I stared at myself in the mirror, the delicate fabric, the sparkling beads. But all I could feel was emptiness.

Ha.

Marcus Rivers—admired by everyone, loved by all—will soon become nothing more than a joke.

I pulled two invitations from my bag, handing them over with a calm smile.

"Eight days from now, I’ll be marrying Marcus. Please come and have a drink with us."

The two clerks gasped, their excitement palpable. They hugged each other, repeatedly thanking me and wishing me a lifetime of happiness with Marcus.

I stepped out of the fitting room, my heart pounding in my chest.

As I emerged, Marcus, who had been seated on the sofa, froze, his eyes wide as he took in the sight of me.

At that moment, the door to another fitting room opened, and Vivian stepped out, wearing a wedding dress of her own.

Her dress was dangerously low-cut, the kind of design that left nothing to the imagination. As she took a step, her eyes darted toward Marcus, and suddenly, the hem of her gown caught on her foot. She stumbled and fell straight into his arms.

The room went silent. Everyone stared, horrified by the scene unfolding before them.

"Is she crazy? How dare she throw herself into Mr. Rivers' arms?"

"I heard the last woman who did that had her arm removed."

"Mr. Rivers and Miss Lila are so deeply in love. When Mr. Rivers was still struggling, Miss Lila stayed by his side. They’ve been together for eight years. There hasn’t even been a rumor about another woman near him."

Marcus' body stiffened, and he instinctively pushed Vivian away. But she held onto his hand, her grip tight, her face contorted in fake distress.

"My foot... it’s twisted... it hurts so much." Her eyes brimmed with tears, making her look like a helpless little bunny.

Marcus paused, his expression unreadable as everyone in the room watched intently.

He quickly regained his composure, his voice smooth as he explained, "This is my relative."

The whispers started immediately.

"So, she’s Mr. Rivers' relative? No wonder she dares to get so close to him. Other women wouldn’t have the courage."

The two clerks exchanged knowing glances, their voices dropping to a hush.

Marcus looked back at me briefly before speaking again, his tone now soft but authoritative. "Be good, wait here for a moment. I’ll help Vivian to the car and have the driver take her to the hospital."