The room fell silent. No one had expected that answer.

Everyone in their circle knew Eliza's reputation. She had chased Alban relentlessly, married him, and catered to his every demand. For her to say that in front of everyone was the same as slapping him across the face.

Alban's expression darkened. He picked up his glass and downed several drinks in quick succession.

In the next rounds of the game, he could not focus. Eliza's words replayed in his mind, and he lost again and again.

His friends, eager to stir things up, suggested they check his photo album and his pinned contact.

The result surprised no one. His album was filled with photos of Davina. Some showed her smiling. Others captured her in quiet moments or in candid shots taken from behind. His pinned contact list held only one name: Davina Buckley.

He was so distracted that he failed to realize he had just made his feelings for her public.

Color crept up Davina's cheeks. She lowered her head and glanced at him shyly. "Al, I didn't realize you felt so strongly about me…"

The rest of the sentence seemed too embarrassing to say. No one pressed her to finish.

When the gathering began to break up, Davina spoke again. "Al, things haven't felt safe around my place lately. The security guards have been checking for days and still haven't figured out what's going on. Could you come stay with me for a few days?"

The group erupted in cheers. Only Eliza remained silent, calmly spearing pieces of fruit on her plate with a fork.

Davina enjoyed performing for her. Eliza did not mind watching.

What no one expected was Alban's response. He had always indulged Davina without hesitation. This time, he refused.

"Vina, I still have some things to handle," he said. "I'll come by later, all right?"

He sent Davina off with the driver, then turned and grabbed Eliza's wrist, pulling her toward the car.

…

The ride home passed in heavy silence.

As soon as they stepped inside, Alban caught the scent in the air. A bitter herbal smell lingered throughout the house.

Eliza had been drinking herbal remedies to stabilize the pregnancy. He usually paid no attention, but now the scent struck him all at once.

He studied her. "What exactly are you taking? You drink it three times a day without fail."

A flicker of guilt rose in Eliza's chest, but she kept her expression steady. "Just something to nourish my body. I'll need it for a while. If the smell bothers you, you could stay at Miss Buckley's place. That way you won't have to smell it, and you can protect her at the same time."

Alban froze. In all their years of marriage, she had worked without complaint and never objected to his feelings for Davina. This was the first time she had pushed him toward her.

He should have felt relieved. Instead, a strange tightness gripped his chest.

Then a thought took shape, and he felt certain he understood. "You're jealous? That answer during the game—was it because you're upset I've been taking care of Vina and ignoring you?"

As he spoke, his body relaxed. "When we got married, I told you clearly. I love someone else. I can give you a title, not love. And after what happened last time, you were at fault. Taking care of her was only right.

"Stop sulking. Didn't you always want the sculpture in my study? I'll give it to you."

Eliza had intended to explain. After hearing that, she changed her mind.

The sculpture was a birthday gift Kyran had carved by hand for his brother. She had wanted it for years. She had asked countless times, but Alban had never agreed. Now he offered it as if it meant nothing.

She nodded. "I understand. I won't cause trouble anymore."

When she yielded so easily, Alban's lips curved in satisfaction. *I knew it. Just as I thought.*

At that moment, Davina called again. This time, he did not hesitate. He turned and left at once.

Alban did not come home for several days. Instead, Davina checked in from time to time with messages, photos, and short videos.

Some showed Alban from behind as he cooked in her kitchen. Others captured him at the piano, playing for her alone. A few clips showed him tidying her apartment, sleeves rolled up, movements patient and familiar.

Davina sent them for one reason only: to ensure Eliza understood how deeply he loved her and how completely he indulged her.

On ordinary days, the images stirred nothing in Eliza. She felt no anger, no jealousy. They barely caused a ripple.

But on Kyran's birthday, the photos struck differently.

When Kyran was alive, he had treated her the same way, gently and attentively, as if she were something precious he needed to protect.

After he died, no one ever loved her like that again.

She baked a cake and set it on the table. Then she opened Davina's posts once more.

Memories rose unbidden. Kyran stood beside her, smiling, teasing, holding her hand. When her gaze shifted to Alban's identical face on the screen, her sadness deepened.

She lowered her head onto the table and closed her eyes. Tears soaked the sleeve beneath her cheek.

When Alban came home, that was the scene that greeted him.

Eliza had fallen asleep, her phone loosely clutched in her hand, tear tracks still fresh on her face.

He paused before walking closer. Only then did he notice the cake on the table.

She had remembered his birthday. She even knew he liked matcha.

In childhood, he had always shared his birthday with Kyran. Their parents favored the older twin, and no one prepared a cake just for him. After Kyran died, he stopped celebrating altogether. No one remembered. He had not marked his birthday in years.

He was rarely home on that day. Had she been quietly celebrating for him every year?

He sat beside her. His hand brushed her phone by accident, and he caught a glimpse of the screen from the corner of his eye.

He picked it up. The photo album was open. Thousands of photos filled the screen, all of him. There were images of his back, his profile, his smile. Some showed him with his eyes closed in thought.

He scrolled to the bottom. The earliest photos dated back eight years. The most recent were from three years ago.

For a moment, he could not name what he felt. Shock came first. Then a flicker of emotion that moved him. Beneath it all lay a faint, undeniable satisfaction.

'So Eliza has been secretly in love with me for that long,' he thought.

Eliza stirred and woke. When she saw him holding her phone, she panicked and reached out to snatch it back.

Alban assumed she felt embarrassed that her secret had been exposed. His voice hardened. "Who told you to celebrate my birthday? Don't you know I never celebrate it?"

She froze. Only then did she realize he had misunderstood again.

He did not notice her expression. He pulled the cake closer.

"Just this once," he said. "There won't be a next time. Go on. Light the candles for me."

There was no room to correct him now, so Eliza let the misunderstanding stand.

She lit the candles, sang the birthday song, and cut the cake for him. When she looked at him, her eyes brimmed with tenderness.

His face was exactly the same as Kyran's.

She told herself, 'It's fine. I will simply pretend I'm celebrating Kyran's birthday instead.'

After that birthday, something in Alban shifted. He still spent most of his time with Davina, yet he began coming home almost every day. Even when they exchanged only a few words, he made a point of standing where Eliza could see him, as though to assert his presence.

One afternoon, after Alban left, Eliza glanced through the documents he had brought home.

An auction catalog lay among them. She flipped through it without much interest, then stopped short. A crystal sphere appeared among the featured lots.

Her breath caught.

Kyran had once planned to make that crystal sphere for her. He had set gems inside it and engraved their initials on them. He had intended it as a gift and had never mentioned it to anyone.

She had no idea how it had found its way to an auction house. Because he had made it for her, he had kept it private. No one else knew where it came from.

As she stared at the photograph in the catalog, her vision blurred. She knew she had to have it.

….

Eliza changed her clothes and hurried to the auction house.

When she arrived, she saw that Alban and Davina were already there.

Surprise crossed Alban's face when he noticed her. Before anyone spoke, the auction began.

After they took their seats, Davina leaned against Alban's shoulder with easy familiarity, as if she were his rightful wife.

Concerned she might be cold, Alban removed his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. "Don't catch a cold."

She allowed him to fuss over her and replied sweetly, "Al, you promised me. Today, whatever I want, you'll bid on it for me."

His voice remained low and steady. "When have I ever broken a promise to you?"

Davina smiled, satisfied.

Eliza ignored their closeness. She kept her eyes fixed on the stage and waited for the item that mattered to her.

At last, the crystal sphere appeared.

The starting bid was 200,000 dollars.

Eliza raised her paddle without hesitation. "400,000."

Her intent was clear.

The starting price was reasonable. Her bid already stretched the limit. Few bidders would go higher.

She had not expected Davina to want it as well.

"Al, I like that crystal ball too," Davina said lightly.

Alban lifted his paddle at once. "600,000."

Eliza's heart lurched. She knew she could not compete with him financially, yet she raised her paddle again.

"800,000."

Neither side retreated. The price climbed without pause.

1,000,000… 1,400,000… 1,800,000…

When it reached 2,000,000, Eliza knew she had reached her limit. She did not have the funds to continue. If the bidding went any higher, she would lose.

Yet the crystal sphere meant too much to surrender without trying. For the first time, she softened her voice and looked at Alban with restrained pleading.

"Can you let me have this one?" she asked quietly. "I really like it."

She had never asked him for anything like this.

Hesitation flickered in Alban's eyes.

Then Davina spoke.

"But I really like it too," she said gently. "If I don't get it, I'll be upset."

The warmth in his gaze disappeared.

Alban's expression hardened. He raised his paddle again and signaled a full override. No matter how high the bidding rose, he would exceed it until the item was his.

At that moment, Eliza understood that she had already lost.