Arthur quickly shut off the tablet, yanked his coat over his lap to hide the bulge, and put on his usual cold, ascetic mask.

His long legs, encased in tailored slacks, were visibly tense as he stood. In that moment of panic, I found myself staring at his chiseled features—his high nose bridge, sharp jawline, and lips that always seemed poised to mock. He really was born with a face that could ruin lives.

Without a word, he picked up a glass of water, walked toward the door, and—splash—poured it straight on me.

He did it on purpose.

He thought I was spying on him.

Arthur's gaze swept from my soaked hair down to my soaked chest, and he turned away with a flash of disgust. "Didn’t I tell you not to come into my study?"

Water trickled down my face, slid over my chest, and soaked through the white blouse I wore. I knew exactly what he was thinking—that I was trying to seduce him again. Fine. I gave him the satisfaction.

I wiped my face, undid the top two buttons of my shirt, and exposed the smooth line of my collarbone. "I was just worried my husband’s excessive desire might burn up his liver."

His eyes flinched toward the glimpse of skin before his face twisted. "Don’t think marriage gives you the right to dream. I will never fall in love with you."

I stayed silent. But his tone grew colder, his words sharper. "I’ll be responsible for you, that’s all. Stop deluding yourself."

What a joke. The man could be aroused just by Loren’s voice, but I could strip naked in front of him and he’d recoil.

My nails dug into my palms to keep myself from exploding.

I grabbed his sleeve. "Do you even know what day it is today?"

I regretted it immediately.

"What now? Didn’t I tell you to stay out if there’s nothing urgent?" He pried my fingers off like I was some disgusting burden.

I felt the embarrassment crawl up my throat, but I forced a smile anyway. My eyes fell to the faint lipstick smudge on his collar—soft pink, definitely not mine. My mind flashed back to that photo: the tenderness in his eyes as he kissed Loren.

He never loved me. He married me because of a sense of duty. I knew that. But I didn’t expect that with time, duty would turn to contempt.

Even our son preferred Loren. Even he told me to get lost.

Loren—the eternal heroine of our shared life. She always had to win. She always did.

But it didn’t matter anymore.

Seven years. That’s all it was.

"Tomorrow’s seminar is critical for the institute’s future funding. As the core member, you’re expected to attend," I said coolly, buttoning my blouse as I turned to leave.

Arthur snorted. "I told you—I don’t waste time on those shallow business exchanges. I’m not going."

I didn’t even glance back. "Loren’s company will be there too."

A pause. Then his voice, low but decisive: "Fine. I’ll go."

My heart clenched.

Right on cue. Mention Loren, and he would toss aside every principle.

It’s fine. Very soon, he won’t have to pretend anymore. I’ll leave, and the stage will be all hers.

—

The next morning, I sat leisurely at the table, sipping hand-brewed black coffee and slowly enjoying a sandwich. For once, the house was quiet. Peaceful.

Arthur came storming down the stairs, irritation written all over his face. He had a wrinkled shirt in one hand and a suit in the other.

"What am I supposed to wear today? Why didn’t you iron anything or help coordinate like you usually do?"

I didn’t even look up. "You’ve always said you hate me touching your things."

"You—" He stopped short, visibly frustrated, but before he could respond, a sleepy voice chimed in.

"Mom, where’s my breakfast?" Abraham rubbed his eyes and looked at the empty plate on the table. His lower lip quivered.

I took another sip of coffee. "I used to wake up early every day to make you breakfast, but you always had something to complain about. From now on, you can ask your dad."

Abraham pouted, turned to his father, and said, "Buy me something. Give me money." Then he grabbed the cash and stormed off.

Arthur stood there, dumbfounded. Something about Lora felt... off lately. Different. But he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

He shook his head and buried the thought. He had more important things to do—like seeing Loren.

When we arrived at the venue, Loren was already there. Her light yellow dress made her stand out like a spotlight in the crowd.

The moment Arthur saw her, his previously cold expression softened noticeably. From the moment we walked in, I could feel his gaze glued to her—he didn’t even bother hiding it.

“Sister!” Loren beamed and ran over. “I’m so happy to see you here!”

She leaned in and kissed Arthur lightly on the cheek. His ears flushed red on contact.

Then she reached out to touch me.

I blocked her with the file in my hand. “No need.”

Her smile froze midair, her eyes welling up, but she quickly straightened, forcing a brave little grin. “When I’m fully recovered, maybe you won’t hate me so much. I’ll do everything I can—”

Arthur’s face darkened slightly. His eyes finally shifted to me—not with concern, but with irritation.

I didn’t have time for this performance. My focus was on the upcoming partnership meeting. But Loren giggled softly and playfully tapped Arthur’s chest with both hands.

“Arthur, I heard that last time I had an episode at the hospital, I really wanted pickled fried radish. You and Abraham waited two hours in the snow just to get it for me and bring it to my ward? That’s so sweet... I was in a coma then, and I’ve been recovering, so I never got the chance to say thank you.”

Arthur’s expression melted. “We’re family. It was nothing.”

Family? What a joke.

That day, I was writhing in pain at home from a stomach infection, barely able to stand. He left with Abraham for three hours, claiming he had to attend a father-son event.

Turns out, their little “family” event was for Loren.

“Then I owe you and Abraham a big dinner,” Loren said in a coy, sugary voice.

Arthur didn’t decline. A faint smile curved his lips. “Sure. Whatever you say.”

“And of course your sister should come too,” Loren added sweetly. “We all live nearby, don’t we?” Her tone was gentle, but her eyes gleamed with challenge when they landed on me. “Sister, why do you look so tired? I’m the one who's been sick for years, remember?”

I had no interest in this game. “Just focus on taking care of yourself. Stop worrying about others. Maybe if you stopped thinking so much, you wouldn’t be so anemic.”

Her expression faltered before she quickly masked it with a smile. Arthur’s brow furrowed, deeper this time, but he said nothing.

Thankfully, the host announced the start of the seminar, bringing a welcome end to this farce. I walked straight to my seat. One more second around them, and I would’ve thrown up.

I’d be getting married in Hawaii soon. It was likely I wouldn’t be able to continue my research after that. This seminar was important—not just for the institute, but for me. I needed to secure a strong partnership for the team and close the chapter on the years I’d poured into this work.

I had once been accepted to a top-tier medical university. But because it was over a thousand kilometers from home—and I wouldn’t be nearby to donate blood to Loren—my parents altered my application behind my back and forced me into a local nursing program.

They chose nursing not for my future, but because it would help me “take better care of Loren.”

When I resisted, they cut off all financial support. I worked part-time jobs to survive, finally got into graduate school, and chose the major I really wanted. But I got pregnant shortly after, and again, everything was put on hold.

To help Arthur’s research, I even volunteered to be a test subject. It wasn’t until earlier this year that I was finally invited to join this research team. I treasured the opportunity.

I had prepared meticulously for this seminar. I could confidently back up every point with research and evidence.

Loren, on the other hand, with her so-called prestigious education, said almost nothing. Her silence was telling.

When Sterling Company expressed strong interest in collaborating with our team, her face visibly darkened.

“Sister, do you even have the credentials to say that?” Loren finally snapped. “You studied nursing, didn’t you? If you make a mistake, the consequences could be serious.”

I didn’t even bother to look at her. I calmly continued presenting the project and fielding questions from industry professionals, winning nods and applause across the room.

“Professor Steele’s team has a sharp vision and offers truly innovative ideas for drug applications,” an elderly expert praised warmly.

Meanwhile, Loren’s presentation quickly unraveled under scrutiny. A few targeted questions left her floundering. Her expression turned pale as she fumbled with her notes.

“Uh… our data is still being compiled…” she stammered, beads of sweat forming on her brow.

I smiled faintly. I knew exactly how little this “sister” of mine was worth.

Her education had been bought. She couldn’t conduct research if her life depended on it. She’d just heard that healthcare was profitable lately and thought she could ride the wave.

Her company was notorious in the industry for being all talk and no substance—flashy presentations, but no deliverables.

Just then, a man in a tailored suit walked into the center of the venue and made a bold announcement:

“Professor Steele’s project—The Slater Family is investing 500 million.”

The entire venue erupted.

Excited, the host shouted into the microphone, “Looks like Professor Steele’s project has truly captured the spotlight! Not only is the audience in full agreement, but even the Slater Family has stepped in!”

The man in the suit adjusted his glasses and raised a hand to calm the crowd. “Apologies, there’s been a misunderstanding.”

He scanned the room before clarifying, “It’s not Professor Lora’s project. The Slater Family is backing Ms. Loren’s team.”

A hushed silence fell before he dropped the real bombshell.

“Mr. Slater has instructed that as long as it’s Ms. Loren’s research, the Slater Family will fund it—no matter the cost. There is no budget limit.”

The atmosphere changed instantly.

Industry experts, people who had built their careers on rigorous research and data, looked around in confusion. Everyone could sense something wasn’t right—but when capital speaks, who questions science?

The room buzzed again, but this time, all the flattery, all the attention, swirled around Loren.

“Mr. Slater? He’s been out of the industry for seven years! Why return now—and for Loren’s team?”

“Looks like he’s fallen for her, huh?”

“Genius recognizes genius.”

“Loren’s luck is unreal!”

Loren stood in the glow of it all, radiant under the spotlight. She gave me a deliberate smile—sweet, smug, triumphant.

“Mr. Slater really has good taste,” she said with a self-satisfied tilt of her head. “He knows our project has the most market potential.”

She turned to the assistant. “I wonder when we’ll get to meet Mr. Slater in person? Our team would love to thank him.”

The assistant bowed slightly. “Mr. Slater is currently unavailable. When the time is right, he’ll meet you.”

Then, turning to me with mock sympathy, Loren added with a soft sigh, “Oh, sister… I guess your team won’t be getting any investment. That’s such a shame.”

Her voice dipped into false concern. “After all, who in Las Vegas doesn’t know how powerful the Slater Family is? I mean, business is business, but you’re still my sister…”

I turned to Arthur, desperate for even a flicker of explanation.

But his eyes never left her.

They were filled with warmth, with admiration—the tenderness I’d begged for in silence for years. The tenderness he never once gave me.

The rest of the seminar might as well have been a scripted farce. One by one, investors tripped over themselves to praise Loren, like she was the only light in the room.

I couldn’t take it anymore.

Fury boiling in my chest, I slammed the research report down in front of the assistant. “Is the Slater Family trying to crush every other team here?”

The assistant glanced at Arthur. He gave a tiny nod.

The assistant’s face immediately shifted into practiced indifference. “I’m sorry, Ms. Lora. This investment isn’t about research. It’s a personal gift from Mr. Slater to Ms. Loren. His only hope is that she’s happy. The rest is irrelevant.”

My fingers clenched around our project proposal, my knuckles white, my nails digging into the paper.

I stared at Arthur, silently demanding a reaction.

But he didn’t even glance at me.

His world began and ended with Loren.

Well done, Arthur. Very well done.

After the seminar, Loren was surrounded by a sea of reporters and adoring media. She soaked up every word, every camera flash like a celebrity.

I couldn’t bear the sight. I slipped out of the venue, heart pounding, the ache in my chest threatening to drown me.

I just needed work. Something to numb me. As long as I was busy, maybe I wouldn’t have to feel the sting.

But just as I pulled the car door shut, Loren opened the passenger side and slid in.

“Sister,” she chirped, “are you heading back to the institute? I’ve always wanted to see where you work. Can I come along?”

I reached to push her out, but the passenger door was suddenly held firm—by Arthur.

“Drive,” he said flatly.

So I did.

Loren babbled the whole way back, basking in the afterglow of her big moment.

“Arthur, why do you think Mr. Slater picked our team?” she asked with childlike excitement.

Arthur smiled as though she’d asked something precious. “Because he likes you.”

Loren turned bright pink. “Arthur, stop teasing me!”

“I’m not teasing,” he replied softly. “You’re brilliant. Anyone would fall for you.”

Then, as if it suddenly struck her, she turned slightly and asked, “If we had met first, would you have fallen for me instead?”

Arthur looked startled, about to respond.

But Loren smiled sadly and cut him off. “Just kidding. There’s no ‘if.’ What’s missed is missed.”

“You’re only three years older,” he murmured.

“Three years is still older,” she said, her tone suddenly playful. “Call me sister.”

I couldn’t take any more.

“Are you done flirting?” I snapped coldly. “If you want to keep playing house, get out of the car.”

Loren's eyes shimmered with sudden tears. “I’m sorry, sister. I was just... thinking about the past. Got emotional.”

I glanced into the rearview mirror.

Arthur was looking at her with such heartache, like he was watching something fragile and beloved.

And then he looked at me—only contempt in his eyes.

Even though I had prepared myself for this betrayal, the pain still cut deep.

Because no matter how hard I worked, how much I gave up, or how much I loved… in the end, everyone always chose Loren.