But before she could scramble for another excuse, someone spoke up—one of her loyal supporters, stepping in to defend her.

"From what I heard, Nadine was the one who started it. She boasted about her night with you to Colette. She was shocked, that’s all."

"Yeah, I would have been shocked too."

"She’s so shameless."

The word stung like a slap, whispered just loud enough for everyone to hear.

I felt Raphael’s grip on me tighten.

Then, his voice, sharp and cold, echoed through the room.

“Who just said that?”

Silence.

“Who dares to call Nadine shameless? Come forward if you have the guts.”

No one moved.

Not a single person met his gaze.

The weight of his fury pressed down on the entire room like a force of nature, making even Colette’s once-adoring followers shrink into the background.

Raphael scoffed, pulling me closer, his arm wrapping protectively around my waist like I was something precious.

“Whatever it is, it’s up to Nadine. I don’t mind either. Why are you all making such a fuss?”

Colette’s lips trembled, but she did not dare speak. She did the only thing she could—crying.

Her silent tears only fueled the sympathy of her supporters, who rushed to console her.

Raphael ignored them entirely. His attention was solely on me, his voice softer, almost coaxing.

“Come to my room. Let’s get you changed.”

But I shook my head, stepping back.

“No need,” I said, my voice firm. “I’m going home.”

“Okay, let me take you home.”

Raphael still behaved as if nothing had changed. He opened the door for me, helped me with my seatbelt, and drove at a steady pace, as if we were not on the verge of destruction.

But I was not in the mood to be coddled.

I turned to him, my voice cold, sharp. "Why are you still being sweet to me even though you're going to marry Colette soon?"

His hands tightened around the steering wheel. His face darkened, jaw clenching as if the question alone was enough to enrage him.

"Who said that?" he demanded. "Is it Colette? Is that why you two were fighting earlier?"

I let out a humorless laugh. "Did it look like a fight to you?" I shot back instead of answering his question.

Raphael exhaled sharply, running a frustrated hand through his dark hair, his usual composure slipping. "Listen, whatever you hear, it's not true. I will not engage with Colette, let alone marry her. I only love you, Nadine. I want to be with you forever.

"As for my parents' plan," he continued, "that was just their plan. I never agreed to it. Then…."

I cut him off, my voice colder than ever. "But you were always aware of Colette's unrequited love, right?"

He choked out, his grip on the wheel tightened.

"Then what’s the connection, Nadine? You know enough that I love you. That should be enough, right?"

His voice rose, frustration lacing every word.

It was not our first fight, but it was the first time I felt something break inside me.

I turned to him, my chest tightening with a pain I could no longer ignore. "It’s not enough, never enough.

"The truth is, you don’t really love me. You love me because I’m a Delaunay."

His head snapped toward me, disbelief flashing in his eyes.

"What do you mean? I don’t care who your family is!" he said fiercely. "I would be happier if you weren’t a Delaunay. Our relationship would be smoother if you weren’t tied to that name!"

"Yes, that’s right," I murmured. "You always think of me like that. A nuisance. A problem you need to overcome. A complication that shouldn't exist."

I took a shaky breath before delivering the final blow.

"So just get rid of me, Raphael. From now on, don’t worry about me. Don’t look for me. Just let me go."

And with that, I unbuckled my seatbelt, my fingers reaching for the door handle.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Raphael shouted, his voice laced with panic as he reached for my wrist. The car swerved slightly as he tried to regain control with one hand.

"Stop being unreasonable, Nadine!"

"Let go of me!" I struggled, trying to pull free from his grasp.

The car veered dangerously to the side, tires screeching against the asphalt. My pulse pounded in my ears. Everything was happening too fast.

Before I could even process it, our car crashed.

I felt my body being thrown forward, the world spinning as the windshield exploded into tiny shards.

For a brief moment, there was only weightlessness.

And then, darkness swallowed me whole.

When I regained consciousness, I could feel the ache in my body, a dull, persistent pain radiating from my head down to my limbs.

A thick brace supported my neck, an oxygen mask covered my face, and the weight of an IV tugged at my arm.

But what caught my attention first was the warmth of my hand. Someone was holding it.

I forced my heavy eyelids open, my vision hazy as I turned my head slightly, expecting to see Raphael.

And there he was. Sitting beside my hospital bed, his face bruised but otherwise unharmed, save for a few minor abrasions.

He was relaxed, seated comfortably, a stark contrast to my state.

But, since the anger still coiled in my stomach, with the last of my strength, I pulled my hand away from his grasp.

Raphael's fingers twitched at the sudden loss of contact. His sharp eyes flickered to me, widening with relief as he realized I was awake.

"Nadine..." His voice was breathless, laced with concern. He leaned forward, reaching out instinctively. "Are you okay? Does anything hurt?"

I did not answer. I was too disgusted with his act. By the way he looked at me with such concern.

My silence made him panic. His brows furrowed and he said hurriedly, standing up, "I’ll call the doctor. They need to check you again—make sure there’s no internal injury."

Minutes later, after the examination, they removed my neck brace and oxygen mask. My head was still throbbing, my limbs weak, but aside from the IV in my arm, I was stable.

"You’re lucky," the doctor had said. "It could have been much worse."

Raphael lingered by my bedside, his fingers brushing against my hair in a way that would have once comforted me.

"I’ll take care of the administration first," he murmured, his voice softer now.

Then, to my utter revulsion, he leaned down and pressed a lingering kiss to my forehead. A silent apology. A feigned regret.

I squeezed my eyes shut, my body stiff beneath his touch.

As soon as he left the room, my phone vibrated weakly on the nightstand. Its screen was cracked from the accident, but still functional.

I reached for it with difficulty, my breath hitching as Colette’s name flashed across the notification bar.

As I tapped the message open, a video file stared back at me, the play button almost mocking.

With trembling fingers, I pressed it.

The screen flickered to life, showing dimly lit security footage. At first, I could not understand what I was looking at—until I saw them.

Raphael’s parents.

They were seated in a grand dining hall, conversing with someone just outside the frame.

“…it’s been almost a year now. If she doesn’t leave willingly, we’ll have to force her hand,” Raphael’s father said.

“The Delaunay girl is reckless. One little accident and she’ll be out of Raphael’s life for good. That’s all we need.”

The blood in my veins turned to ice.

I barely noticed the message that followed until it flashed across my screen.

[That’s why, as your best friend, I warned you to leave. Or you’ll be in danger forever.]

Another message came in.

[Besides, Raphael has been using you all along. If you don't believe me, check the notes on his phone. You'll find every plan he's made to slowly destroy you and your family.]

Suddenly, memories of the accident flashed through my mind.

The blinding light that had engulfed us. The deafening screech of tires. The brutal impact that sent me crashing into darkness.

So, with Colette’s message seared into my brain, I realized the truth.

That was not just an accident. It was orchestrated.

How cruel could the Moreau family be, that they were willing to kill their own son in the process?

Suddenly, the door creaked open, pulling me from my thoughts. Raphael stepped in, his face etched with worry. His eyes softened the moment they landed on me, but I no longer saw him the same way.

Wordlessly, I reached for my phone, my fingers still trembling as I handed it to him.

His brows furrowed as he played the video. The color drained from his face.

"This…" His voice wavered. His grip on my phone tightened. "I… I had no idea."

I scoffed, turning my gaze away.

Raphael inhaled sharply. "Nadine, before the accident… I swear, I managed to swerve left to avoid the truck. But because of that, we hit the road divider. If I hadn’t turned in time, who knows what would've happened."

His words echoed in my ears, and the realization struck me like a bolt of lightning.

The truck never intended to hit Raphael.

If he had swerved right instead of left, the truck would have struck—ensuring my complete destruction.

But because he turned left… the truck deliberately avoided him.

It was never about us both dying. It was about me.

My breath hitched as the weight of the betrayal pressed against my chest.

"Raphael, I can't do this anymore," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. My hand reached for the IV in my arm, ready to rip it out.

His eyes widened in alarm. "No, no, clear your mind first, Nadine. Please." He grabbed my wrist, his touch desperate. "I had no idea at all. You have to believe me."

"Believe you?" I let out a bitter laugh. "Even if you didn't know, this is your family, Raphael. And I will never be safe with you."

His grip tightened. "Don’t do this, okay? If you pull that out, it’ll hurt. You can’t stand pain, right?"

I flinched.

He was right. Even the smallest cut made me cry. My pain tolerance was embarrassingly low.

But no physical pain could compare to what I felt inside.

Raphael exhaled, softening his tone. "I'll call the nurse. Let’s have them remove it properly, and then I’ll take you home, alright? I’ll talk to my parents again. You don’t have to worry about anything."

I said nothing.

Once I was discharged, we sat in the backseat of the car as his driver took us away from the hospital. Silence stretched between us, heavy and suffocating.

And then, Raphael casually asked, breaking the silence, "Would you accompany me to the Moreau Group Anniversary banquet next week?"

I remained silent, my gaze fixed outside the window, seething at how effortlessly he had orchestrated everything—down to inviting me to witness my own ruin without a shred of shame.

Mistaking my silence for lingering resentment over the ‘accident,’ he reached for my hand, his voice laced with sincerity. "I want to introduce you properly. Besides, that night marks my official announcement as the heir.

"I promise, they won’t lay a finger on you again. Not even a touch. This is our moment, Nadine. We’ll show everyone how serious we are, okay?"

With slow precision, I pulled away.

My voice was void of emotion as I finally replied, "Fine. But can I borrow your phone for a moment? I need to call my roommate that I’m heading back to the apartment."

Relief flickered across Raphael’s face at my seemingly placated demeanor. Without a hint of suspicion, he handed me his phone.

"Sure," he said easily. "Get some rest at your apartment. I’ll come pick you up in a week."

But what he did not know, I had no intention of staying by his side.

If this was to be the last time we were seen as a couple, a week later I would be gone.

I would make sure he suffered when I left. Before that, I needed to uncover the truth for myself—prove whether Colette’s words held any weight.

I would dig into the secrets Raphael tried to bury and let him see just how deep the betrayal ran.

I clenched my jaw and demanded, "Password."

He did not hesitate. "Our anniversary," he said softly.

Something in my chest trembled. How could he still dare to use that number!

Right, the man who sat beside me, pretending to be sweet and romantic.

But he was the same man who had secretly recorded our intimate moments. The same man who had intended to use those videos to destroy my family.

He was not someone who loved me. This was just another one of his tricks.

True to Colette’s words, I could find the video and the notes.

[How to Bring Down the Delaunay Family:

1. Make Nadine fall for me.

2. Uncover her weaknesses and exploit her.

3. Record an intimate video and leak it. (Damn, she’s still a virgin!)

4. Have thugs violate her, then discard her after that.

5. Farewell, Delaunay family. The Moreau dynasty begins.]

I clenched the phone in a vice grip, my hatred simmering beneath the surface. Every word on that screen confirmed the depth of his deception.

The carefully orchestrated betrayal, the next steps in his twisted plan—it all pointed to one conclusion. Once the intimate video was taken, the violation by thugs would come for me next.

No wonder he was so pleased to see me return to my apartment.

As soon as our car pulled up, I flung the phone back into his hand without a word. No gratitude, no parting glance—just cold indifference as I stepped out and strode toward the apartment building.

Behind me, Raphael's voice rang out, smug and victorious. "I can't wait to see you in a week, my love!"

I did not stop walking, but a smirk tugged at my lips.

"Yes, just wait for your downfall, Raphael."

As expected, the thugs came for me five days later, but I was more than prepared.

I had always known Victor kept a watchful eye on me. Anticipating Raphael’s next move, I reached out to him before returning to Paris, requesting protection.

He agreed instantly, delighted that I was finally allowing him to spoil me again.

When the thugs arrived, they never even got the chance to lay a hand on me. Instead, they were swiftly subdued, their fear making them easy to break.

Under pressure, they confessed everything—their orders, Raphael’s involvement, every disgusting detail.

And just like that, the trap was set. The hunters had become the hunted. That time, it was my turn to play the game.

Two days later, as I arrived at the banquet with Raphael, instead of a warm welcome, I was met with sneers and condescending glances.

"Why did our rival's daughter come to such an important event?" Raphael's mother scoffed, looking me up and down with barely concealed disdain.

Raphael’s grip on my hand tightened. "Mom, I told you to be nice to my girlfriend."

She simply snorted, turning away as if I were nothing more than an unpleasant stain on the evening.

His father remained silent, but the cold, measuring look he gave me was enough to tell me what he thought. I was unwelcome.

But I did not care, since I disliked them too.

Before Raphael could say anything else, the mood shifted.

Colette arrived with her parents, and suddenly, the ice in Raphael’s mother’s eyes melted into warmth.

Her lips stretched into an eager smile, and without hesitation, she pulled Raphael’s hand away from mine.

"My daughter-in-law has arrived," she cooed, leading him toward Colette. "Let’s go greet her properly."

"Mom, wait…."

I did not let him finish. I refused to stand there like a fool, clinging onto someone whose own family was parading another woman in front of him.

"I'm going to get some lemonade," I said flatly, slipping my hand from his grasp before walking away.

Raphael hesitated, looking torn, but in the end, he let go and followed his parents toward Colette.

I inhaled sharply, keeping my head high. I despised being underestimated, being dismissed so easily.

If they thought I was weak, they were wrong. I would show them that I was perfectly fine without Raphael by my side.

From a distance, I observed the scene unfolding. Raphael’s parents strategically positioned him and Colette together, ensuring that no one missed the picture-perfect image of them side by side.

Colette, always one to seize an opportunity, played her part flawlessly. Her fingers trailed teasingly along Raphael’s sleeve, her eyes shimmering with a coy glint.

"Raphael, praise me, our parents are watching," Colette whispered, leaning in ever so slightly.

Raphael exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck before reluctantly giving in to the act. His arm snaked around Colette’s waist, pulling her closer. "You're so beautiful tonight, sweetheart."

Colette’s lips curled in satisfaction. She did not even bother hiding her triumph as she deliberately glanced in my direction, her eyes gleaming with silent mockery.

Then, as if to drive the dagger deeper, she moved in closer, her body pressing against his as she rubbed against him in an almost indecent manner.

Raphael stiffened slightly, clearly uncomfortable, but before he could step back, Colette went on tiptoe and kissed his cheek.

"Thank you, honey," she purred, her voice dripping with sweetness.

Whispers rippled through the room.

Guests murmured about how radiant they looked together, how perfectly matched they seemed.

Raphael’s parents beamed with pride, their eyes gleaming with satisfaction at how smoothly their plan was falling into place.

But no one except me seemed to notice Raphael’s scold as he leaned into Colette’s ear. “You’ve crossed the line, Colette.”

So, I just chuckled in satisfaction.

To any outsider, it would have seemed like an intimate exchange, a clandestine confession between lovers. But I saw it for what it was—a warning veiled in pretense.

Colette’s confident smirk wavered for just a moment, her mask of seduction slipping, but she recovered quickly. Her father-in-law’s voice cut through the moment, calling for her attention.

“Sorry to interrupt your little moment, lovebirds,” he said, his voice dripping with amusement. “But tonight is Raphael’s introduction to the business world. You’ll have to restrain yourselves.”

Colette’s expression shifted instantly, the practiced charm returning.

“No problem at all,” she purred. “I was just about to greet some of my friends anyway.”

Then, her gaze landed on Raphael. “Find me when you’re done, honey.”

Raphael did not reply. He merely followed his father, leaving Colette to turn her eyes toward me with a sharp, knowing glint. A storm was brewing behind her gaze.

I tried to slip away, already anticipating what was coming, but she strolled toward me, a glass of wine in hand, acting as if I were invisible.

Before I could react, she was suddenly in front of me, feigning surprise. And in the next moment—chaos erupted.

Colette stumbled back dramatically, the glass slipping from her hand and the glass shards hit her leg. Red wine splattered across my white dress, an ugly stain spreading like a wound.

And then she cried out.

“Blood!” Her voice rang across the room, loud enough to turn every head toward us.

I barely had time to process what had happened before Raphael appeared, his face clouded with concern.

“What happened?” he demanded.

Before I could speak, Colette’s voice trembled as she clung to his arm.

“It’s my fault,” she sniffled, the perfect picture of innocence. “I accidentally bumped into Nadine. Ah… my foot, it hurts so much.”

Gasps and murmurs rippled through the crowd. Eyes turned to Raphael, waiting for him to act, to be the gentleman they all expected him to be. And he did not disappoint them.

Without hesitation, Raphael bent down and scooped Colette into his arms.

The crowd sighed in approval, as if they were watching a romantic drama unfold before their very eyes.

He barely spared me a glance, but when he passed, he whispered, “Wait for me here. I’ll be back soon.”

Then he was gone, disappearing through the doors with Colette in his arms.

I stood there, frozen, as laughter and chatter resumed around me, as if I were nothing but an insignificant extra in their grand affair.

They might have thought I was foolish for agreeing to come, but the real fools were them—they had no idea what my true intentions were.

I exhaled slowly, steadying myself. Without hesitation, I turned away from the glittering ballroom and stepped onto the balcony.

**

As Raphael drove her to the hospital, Colette glanced at him and murmured, “Sorry for bothering you. Nadine must be jealous seeing this.”

“It’s fine. Leaving you there would’ve been worse,” Raphael replied coolly. “I can explain it to Nadine later. Besides, it’s just acting, remember?” His voice carried a warning edge.

Suddenly, Colette clutched Raphael’s upper thigh, wincing. “Argh… it hurts so much.”

Raphael instinctively reached for her hand, trying to pry it away. “We’re almost there. Just hold on.”

“Raphael… pull over,” Colette gasped, covering her mouth. “I drank earlier, and with you speeding, I feel like throwing up.”

Sighing, Raphael finally pulled over. The road was deserted, quiet beneath the dim glow of streetlights.

But the moment the car stopped, Colette did not step out. Instead, she climbed onto Raphael’s lap.

“Colette, what the hell are you doing?” he growled, his hands gripping the wheel.

She smirked, leaning in. “What do you think I’m doing?” Her voice dripped with provocation.

She had felt the way his body reacted, and knew he would not be able to resist much longer. A slow grind of her hips was all it took for him to stiffen beneath her.

“Stop…” Raphael’s protest was silenced by Colette’s kiss, deep and deliberate. Before he could regain control, she guided his hand to her chest, pressing against him.

Breaking the kiss, she whispered against his ear, “Raphael, I want you. Just for tonight. And I promise—after this, I’ll tell our parents to cancel our engagement.”

Then, with a teasing bite to his ear, she left a faint hickey on his neck.

Raphael exhaled sharply, his restraint hanging by a thread. The promise she dangled before him, the way she fit against him—it was all too much.

Smirking, he met her gaze. “You better keep your promise, Colette.”

And just like that, the night spiraled into an unstoppable, heated frenzy inside the car.