Hearing Zamir Peterson’s name set Sol Kelly’s nerves on edge, but she kept her expression neutral as she watched him drive off. The second he was out of sight, she let out a shaky breath of relief.

After dinner, Sol turned to Adrian Lopez. “Mr. Lopez, I can’t thank you enough for stepping in tonight. If Zamir had gotten his way, I’d never have forgiven myself.”

Adrian waved her off. “It was nothing.”

The next morning, she had the dry-cleaned suit jacket sent to the room next door, only to find out Adrian had already checked out. Last night, when she’d handed it in to be cleaned, she’d noticed it was custom-made—clearly expensive. Mr. Lopez was obviously a man of influence. Maybe their paths would cross again.

Back in her room, Sol called to check on the progress. “Ms. Kelly, Eagle Corporation is prepared to buy the entire stake.”

“Great. Proceed with it.”

“Understood.”

Sol hung up, left the hotel, stopped by a store for supplies, then took a cab to the orphanage. For the past three years, she and Zamir had supported this orphanage. It wasn’t much—just $1,500 a year—but it was enough to make sure the children got a few nutritious meals. When things were calmer, she and Zamir would bring treats and supplies for the kids. But Zamir had gotten busier and busier, leaving Sol to make these visits alone.

The moment she stepped inside, joyful voices filled the air like a chorus of happy birds. “Sol!”

The children swarmed her, faces bright with joy. Warmth bloomed in her chest as she gently patted the nearest boy’s head. “Where’s Mrs. Quinn?”

At the sound of her voice, the orphanage director, Mrs. Quinn, stepped out, her face breaking into a warm smile. “Sol, what brings you here today?”

Sol handed over bags stuffed with new toothbrushes, towels, notebooks, and pencils. “Just wanted to see the kids. I brought some essentials and supplies.”

Mrs. Quinn took them gratefully, her expression full of thanks. “You always bring so much whenever you visit. The children and I can’t thank you enough.”

It was rare to find someone like Sol—young, generous with both money and time. And it had only been a month since her last visit.

Once the children had carried the supplies to the storage room, Mrs. Quinn led Sol to a bench in the garden. “Sol, is something wrong?” she asked gently.

Sol managed a small smile. “I’m actually here to say goodbye.”

“Are you and Zamir leaving Manchester?”

Mrs. Quinn remembered that Zamir’s company had just gone public. Leaving now felt sudden. Had something happened?

“Zamir and I broke up. That’s why I’m leaving.”

Three years ago, Sol had come to Manchester alone. Now she was leaving the same way. “But you were just about to get married?” Mrs. Quinn remembered Sol bringing wedding invitations on her last visit, her face glowing with happiness.

“He’s been cheating for two years. I only just found out.” Sol lowered her gaze, her long lashes hiding the hurt in her eyes. She was determined to move on, but saying it out loud to someone who had witnessed how deep her relationship with Zamir had been brought a dull ache to her heart.

“Could it be a misunderstanding?” Mrs. Quinn had seen the way Zamir cared for Sol. His tenderness had seemed genuine.

“No misunderstanding. I saw it with my own eyes.” Sol’s voice was steady—and flat.

Mrs. Quinn’s expression twisted with pain. She wasn’t sure how to comfort her. She squeezed Sol’s hand. “Sol, you’re beautiful and kind. You deserve better.”

Just then, Zamir appeared at the entrance. Mrs. Quinn’s grip tightened reflexively. Sol followed her gaze, and her expression turned to ice.

“Mrs. Quinn, I brought some supplies and groceries for the kids.” Zamir’s voice was calm as he motioned for his assistant to bring in the boxes, his eyes never leaving Sol.

Mrs. Quinn looked at Sol anxiously. “Go ahead, Mrs. Quinn. I’ll be fine,” Sol said.

After a moment’s hesitation, Mrs. Quinn left, leaving the two of them alone.

Zamir stepped closer, all self-assurance, his tall frame casting a shadow over her. “Sol, I’m sorry about last night. I shouldn’t have tried to force you,” he began.

“What’s the point of this now?” Sol’s voice was steady, betraying nothing.

“I know you didn’t mean what you said.” He reached out and grabbed her wrist. Sol tried to pull away, but his grip only tightened. “We care about each other. We shouldn’t be apart. I’ll deal with Carly. I want the wedding to go ahead as planned.”

His handsome face wore a mask of gentle warmth, as if last night’s coercion and his earlier betrayals had been nothing but a bad dream.

Sol let out a soft, humorless laugh. “Zamir, marrying an ‘older woman’ like me—aren’t you afraid you’ll regret it every single day?”

“There will be no wedding. And I won’t forgive you.”

Anger flashed in Zamir’s eyes, and his grip tightened. “I said those things in jest. I didn’t mean them. The fact that you’re upset proves how much you care.”

“Does a two-year adulterer deserve a place in my heart?” Sol wrenched her hand free, her eyes full of open disdain.

Once, Sol had looked at him with warmth and love. Now her gaze held nothing but indifference and disgust.

Unable to stand losing control, Zamir leaned in and dropped his voice to a threat. “Sol, I know you care about the orphanage and the kids. If it were gone, what would happen to them? To Mrs. Quinn?”

Her eyes sharpened. “What are you planning?”

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and whispered in her ear, “I just don’t want to lose you. And I don’t want any problems with the wedding.”

He used to be the one who didn’t want marriage. Now he was the one insisting. Did everything have to go his way?

A chill ran through Sol, spreading like ice through her veins. “Zamir, Mrs. Quinn and the children are innocent. You have no right to decide their fate.”

“Sol, you’re mistaken.” His voice was cold, ruthless. “This world runs on survival of the fittest. The people at the bottom—their lives are worth the least. Deciding their fate takes nothing more than a few words from me.”

His gaze locked on hers, a tyrannical warning. “Surely you don’t want them to suffer because of you?”

Sol Kelly stared at Zamir like she was looking at a stranger. Shock flickered across her face, followed by distance. Like she had never really known the man standing in front of her.

Memories came rushing back—their first winter near the orphanage. The cold had been brutal, the north wind slicing their skin like icy knives. The children huddled outside with Mrs. Quinn, stomping their feet and rubbing their hands together for warmth. Cheeks flushed, eyes bright with joy.

She remembered Zamir at the gate, his gaze softening as he watched them. He didn’t say a word. He just walked to the bakery down the street and came back with bags of warm spiced honey cakes, handing them out to the kids himself.

Only later did Sol learn that Zamir’s childhood had mirrored theirs.

He’d been an orphan too, raised in a rural home where thin blankets were all that stood between him and the cold. Holidays meant cold bread and salted meat—not feasts.

Once, he’d taken her hand and looked her straight in the eye. “Sol, I know what it’s like to have no one to lean on. I want these kids to feel a little warmth—something I never had.”

Back then, his empathy had been real. His voice had been full of genuine care.

It was that tender side hidden beneath his tough exterior that moved her, made her want to build a life with him.

She’d believed people who survived hardship knew how to recognize kindness and gratitude better than anyone.

Now, the man in front of her was tearing that tenderness apart with cold indifference.

“Zamir,” Sol’s voice trembled with a disappointment so deep it hurt, “do you remember what you said? You understood their loneliness. You wanted to bring those children warmth. And now you’re threatening to destroy their home just to get to me?”

The kindness vanished from Zamir’s face, replaced by something chilling. “That was then. Now is different. Back then, I had nothing—I understood what they were going through. Now I have bigger ambitions. And you, Sol—you’re too softhearted to let those kids suffer.”

Sol looked at him, grief pooling in her eyes. “Zamir, you haven’t just betrayed us. You’ve betrayed yourself—the part of you that once looked for warmth in the cold. You’ve changed so much you don’t even know who you are.”

“People change, Sol. But my love for you remains constant.” Zamir pulled out a set of keys and pressed them into her hand. “I bought the house back. Everything’s waiting for you to come home.”

He gripped her hand and led her to the car.

“Sol…” Mrs. Quinn called after her.

Sol rolled down the window, met Mrs. Quinn’s worried gaze, and gave a small shake of her head.

“Take care of the children. And yourself.”

The words sounded like goodbye.

Mrs. Quinn’s eyes welled up. “You take care, too.”

...

Half an hour later, the car pulled up outside the house in Sandy Bay.

Zamir hurried to open her door. Sol’s expression didn’t change.

Inside, everything was exactly as it had been. The things she’d thrown out were back in place.

Like nothing had ever happened.

“Zamir, what’s the point?” She spoke with her back to him, her voice cold.

Zamir stepped closer and rested his hands gently on her shoulders, his tone as smooth as ever. “You don’t understand business. Those shares are worthless to you. After we’re married, you’ll have everything you want. Just settle into being Mrs. Peterson.”

He set a share transfer agreement in front of her.

Sol turned, her smile sharp and mocking. “What’s done is done, Zamir. Don’t be greedy. People who want everything end up with nothing.”

“Mrs. Peterson doesn’t need to worry.”

His smile was warm, but his eyes were cold. His words cut. “You don’t have to sign. But I can’t guarantee the orphanage will remain untouched.”

“You’re despicable!”

Sol slapped his hands away. Her fingers went white under the pressure, nails digging into her palms. Her eyes blazed—so fierce they nearly consumed the man in front of her.

Zamir’s hands froze. The warmth in his face faded a little, but he stayed confident. He’d found her weak spot.

“Don’t blame me, Sol.”

He reached to touch her face, his voice tinged with false regret. “I’m just afraid of losing you.”

“Even now, you’re lying!”

Sol turned her face away, her voice cold with disappointment. “Are you afraid of losing me—or of me selling the shares and threatening your control over the company?”

In the end, he loved only himself. This was all about trapping her, feeding his need for control.

Then Zamir’s phone rang. He glanced at the screen and cut the call, but it rang again, insistent.

“Aren’t you going to answer? What if it’s urgent?”

Zamir’s face hardened as he answered. Whatever he heard made his expression darken.

“Alright, I’ll come.”

Before leaving, he told Sol, “Think it over. I’ll be back for you tomorrow.”

...

In the hospital room, Carly Perkins was curled up in the corner of her bed. She clutched a pair of scissors in one hand; the other shielded her stomach. She looked like a frightened bird, eyes fierce and protective, letting no one near.

When Zamir entered, she dropped the scissors and stumbled barefoot into his arms, her shoulders shaking.

“Zamir, please let me keep this child. I promise I won’t cause problems or compete with Sol.”

Tears streaked her face, her voice pleading. “Sol won’t let you near her. I’ll give this child to Sol to raise. You need a child of your own.”

She knew Zamir’s priorities.

Sol refused closeness, and Zamir resented it.

Carly had sacrificed everything for him, yet Zamir couldn’t let Sol go.

Otherwise, she wouldn’t have tolerated two years without incident.

She understood better than anyone how cold he could be.

Zamir looked at her tearful, pathetic face. His eyes hardened as he gripped her chin firmly.

“Are you willing?”

“As long as I can be with you, nothing else matters.”

Sol wouldn’t let him near her, and he couldn’t force her. But he did need a child. Carly had stayed with him for two years—obedient, no trouble.

Sol loved children. She showed compassion for those at the orphanage, so she would surely care for a child given to her, raising it as her own.

His grip loosened. His voice held no warmth.

“I’ll take you back. Behave and take care of the baby. Don’t discuss this with Sol.”

Carly Perkins clutched Zamir Peterson’s shirt, her voice gentle, her eyes calculating. “Zamir, your wedding to Sol is tomorrow. Why not spend the night with me and the baby?”

Zamir dropped his gaze. He knew exactly what she was doing—trying to pull him in—but his mind drifted, unbidden, to Sol Kelly’s cold, piercing stare. Irritation he couldn’t explain washed over him. He pulled away from Carly, his tone ice-cold. “I’ll have someone take you home. Until the baby’s born, don’t come to the office.”

“Is this Sol’s doing?” Carly’s voice cracked as she clung to his shirt. “How can she be so selfish? She doesn’t appreciate how hard you work. You’re killing yourself trying to give her a better life, and all she does is cause drama…”

Zamir’s icy stare shut her up. “Do you really think you get a say in what happens between Sol and me?”

Carly bit her lip, suddenly too scared to speak.

Before, even a little jab at Sol would’ve earned Carly his sympathy. But today? His whole demeanor was different.

After two years of bending over backward to please him, Carly realized she still couldn’t measure up to Sol Kelly.

Why?

What did Sol have besides a pretty face? Carly was the more attentive partner. The more capable assistant. She was sure of it.

A deep resentment curled in her chest. As she watched Zamir walk away without a backward glance, a scheme took shape—something vicious. If Sol Kelly lost face before the wedding, would Zamir still marry her?

She snatched up her phone and sent Sol a message.

...

Zamir got back to the house in Sandy Bay. He opened the front door to nothing but darkness and the chill of silence.

Panic hit him out of nowhere. He rushed through the entryway. Sol was nowhere.

Frowning, he dialed her number—only to find he’d been blocked.

He grabbed the landline and tried again.

“Where are you?”

Sol was lounging on the bed. Surprise flickered across her face when she answered. Wasn’t he supposed to be with Carly right now?

She kept her voice calm. “I went out to buy a few things. Are you keeping tabs on me?”

She planned to leave tomorrow, and she didn’t want any complications before then.

Zamir’s tone softened instantly. “The thought of our wedding tomorrow got me nervous. I wanted to see you.”

Was he checking to make sure she hadn’t run off? Afraid of being humiliated alone on their wedding day?

Sol’s voice turned deliberately soft, compliant. “Traditionally, the bride and groom spend the night before the wedding apart. It’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the ceremony. Zamir, if you’re going to marry me, don’t break the rules.”

The same woman who’d sworn in broad daylight that she wouldn’t marry him had suddenly changed her tune?

Relief washed over Zamir. She just couldn’t do without him after all.

“Sol, don’t worry. If you still can’t accept me within a year of marriage, we’ll adopt a child from the orphanage. We’ll live a good life. What happened with Carly won’t happen again.”

Sol laughed coldly to herself. She didn’t believe a single word.

“Okay. I believe you. Now go back.”

“See you tomorrow.”

The second she hung up, a message alert pinged.

Sender: Carly Perkins

[Sol, I’m pregnant. But don’t worry—I won’t fight you for the Mrs. Peterson title.]

Attached was an ultrasound, the outline of the gestational sac glaring up from the screen.

Expression blank, Sol filed the message—along with every previous provocative text from Carly—into an encrypted document.

She replied: [Meet me at the Downtown Café.]

...

“Sol…”

Carly spoke cautiously, but Sol’s gaze was unwavering, steady as an ancient well. No hatred. Only a disquieting emptiness.

Carly dropped the act. A smug smile spread across her face.

“I love Zamir, and I’m carrying his child. I won’t leave him. He told me he can’t resist my young body, and he even agreed to let you raise the baby. I assume you’re not the type to raise another woman’s child?”

She took a sip of coffee, her tone casual, like she was talking about someone else’s life.

“Why don’t you tell me about you and Zamir?”

Uncertain what Sol was up to, Carly assumed she’d given up and eagerly started bragging about her time with Zamir.

“Last March, on your birthday, Zamir took me to Paris on a business trip. He chartered a yacht and spent the whole night showing me the lights along the Seine. In April, you had your appendix out. After he signed the surgery consent, I told him a bulb had gone out, and he left you to stay with me. During the June storms, he said he was working late, but he was really with me at the office… And your second anniversary? I told him a client was giving me a hard time, and he rushed over—leaving you behind.”

As Sol listened, every word was a needle. It stung—but it also cleared her mind.

Every understanding gesture she’d made had become an excuse for his betrayal. Every faithful wait had become the backdrop for his little romance with Carly.

On her birthday, she’d made a table full of his favorite dishes, only for him to call at the last minute and say he had to travel. The day of her appendicitis surgery, while she lay there in pain, he used “urgent business” as an excuse to be with another woman. On their anniversary, she waited two hours in a new dress, only to be brushed off with “I’ll make it up to you.”

Every sacrifice she’d made had been a farce.

Her lips curled with bitter irony. “If you love Zamir so much, why don’t you take my place at tomorrow’s wedding?”

Carly hesitated, but the idea tempted her.

“You’d really let me?”

Sol recited a code.

“That’s the entry code for Sandy Bay. Go tonight.”

Carly eyed her suspiciously.

“You’re not setting me up?”

If Zamir found out she’d impersonated Sol, he’d be furious. He’d make a scene.

“We’re having a traditional wedding. During the ceremony, you’ll keep your face hidden beneath an opaque veil until the groom lifts it at the altar. Zamir cares about appearances. He won’t make a scene. Once the ceremony’s over, there’s no going back. Didn’t you say he can’t resist you? Use your charm. He’ll be at your mercy.”

Her words hit Carly like a shot of adrenaline. Her resolve wavered again.

“And you?”

“I’m leaving Manchester. Never coming back.”

With that, Sol stood and walked toward the café exit.

Watching her go, Carly dialed a number.

“Do it. Just like we planned. Get HD footage of every part. Don’t miss a single detail!”

Her voice bubbled with excitement and malice, her eyes gleaming like a serpent poised to strike.