The sweltering summer heat seemed unyielding, and even with the air conditioning on, a fine sheen of sweat clung to Lyla Greene. After a vigorous workout, a charming flush colored her cheeks. Her delicate fingers wrapped around a glass of golden whiskey as she stood by the window.

Her long, wavy hair hung over her shoulders, and her shapely legs were casually crossed. The evening sun cast a perfect glow on her porcelain-like skin, while the sheer white curtains swayed gently with her breath.

As Cameron Carlson emerged from the bathroom, still drying off, he was met with a captivating sight that rekindled a desire he thought had just faded. Even after a year with this woman, whose body he knew better than his own, her presence always stirred something primal within him. This woman, whom he'd deliberately kept close, could effortlessly ignite his deepest desires.

Hearing the noise, Lyla lifted her head, finished her whiskey, and turned with a teasing smile. Before her stood the man she was most intimately acquainted with—her husband in name, Cameron. His strikingly handsome face was so perfectly defined that it was breathtaking.

Lyla flushed as she took in Cameron's tall, lean frame. This man's allure was like a drug, one she couldn't resist. Yet she knew such an exceptional man would never truly be hers. Their relationship was purely transactional, summed up in two words: mutual benefit.

"Why are you hitting the bottle again? You know that's not just water, right?" Cameron quickly moved to Lyla's side, snatching the empty glass from her hand, his face showing clear annoyance. She had a habit of needing a drink after every encounter, and only whiskey would suffice. The alcohol made her seem even more like an irresistible siren, hard to ignore.

"What's the matter? Are you worried about your precious liquor?" Lyla teased, playfully retrieving the glass. She walked to the bed, picked up a white sheet, and with a twirl, wrapped it around herself, transforming the sheet into an elegant makeshift gown that highlighted her perfect curves.

"Concerned? Lyla, after all this time, you still don't get me." A smirk tugged at Cameron's lips, mocking her earlier remark. Indeed, a man without a heart couldn't feel compassion.

"You'd better get ready. Tonight's gala should be quite the spectacle. Aren't you curious to see what your family's been up to after a year?" Cameron casually picked out a light blue shirt and beige trousers from the wardrobe, unabashedly dropping his towel in front of Lyla.

Lyla stopped mid-pour, processing Cameron's words. She lowered the glass, staring at him incredulously as he got dressed. "You're really taking me with you?" she asked, disbelief tinting her voice. For over a year, she'd been confined to this estate, hidden away as if she were invisible, only a wife in name.

"Don't you want to go?" Cameron fastened his cufflinks and turned to face Lyla, whose fingers were nervously intertwined. His expression softened for a moment. She'd stayed by his side for a year, doing all he asked, waiting to reclaim what was rightfully hers.

Hearing her family's name pierced through Lyla's calm demeanor, transforming her into a bristling hedgehog, her eyes filled with deep-seated resentment.

Watching her, Cameron felt an unexpected twinge of sympathy. When she had nowhere else to turn, he'd offered her a deal: She would be his wife for two years in exchange for his help.

~

Back then, Cameron had appeared like a savior before a destitute Lyla on the street, concealed behind large sunglasses. She'd been cast out by her stepmother, left with nothing, and he'd offered her a deal she couldn't refuse.

"I refuse. I don't know you. Why should I marry you, especially when I have nothing left?" Lyla stood on the street, clutching an empty suitcase, despair clouding her gaze.

"Really? You might regret it." Cameron tossed a stack of photos at Lyla and turned to walk away.

Lyla's eyes widened as she stared at the photographs scattered on the ground. They showed her father, Chaim Greene, CEO of Greene Corporation, bound and unconscious, tormented by unidentified medical staff.

That moment shattered Lyla. Her father reduced to such a state meant she had truly lost everything—not even a flicker of hope remained. At twenty-three, holding a doctorate in archaeology, Lyla was still naive about the world. Betrayed by those she trusted, all she could do was flee her family in despair.

But those photos ignited her anger. She could endure betrayal but wouldn't allow anyone to harm her beloved father. Lyla made an unthinkable decision: She abandoned all her principles and got into Cameron's car, becoming someone she hardly recognized.

"Helen has prepped the dress you'll wear tonight. It's in your room. Get yourself ready; I expect you'll shine tonight. I'm looking forward to your performance!" Cameron kissed the top of Lyla's head, snapped his fingers, and left the room.

Watching him leave, Lyla hesitated for a moment. A year had passed with this man, and now he was keeping his promise. Did this mean she was close to freedom? Close to reclaiming everything she had lost? The thought brought a faint smile to her lips. Maybe this time she'd truly get what she wanted.

Wrapped in the sheet, Lyla returned to her room. Though legally married to Cameron, they shared little outside of necessity. They had always slept separately, never spending a night together. Lyla wondered why, if Cameron desired only her body, he insisted on marriage, only to hide her existence. Pushing the thought aside, she stepped into the bathroom. Lyla didn't care about such trivialities. As long as Cameron fulfilled his promise to rescue her father and make those who harmed her pay, she was indifferent to what he took from her over these two years.

Initially skeptical, Lyla had come to trust Cameron’s capabilities over the year. The Greene family's power wasn't easily challenged, yet Cameron seemed capable of the impossible. His ruthlessness was something she'd witnessed firsthand on more than one occasion.

Lyla's stubbornness was a trait she'd inherited but was now resolute in her decision to leave only on her terms, ensuring a clean break from Cameron. However, Francis Woods had different plans.

"This isn't up to you! If you stay and involve innocent people, that's a crime!" Francis exclaimed. Approaching quickly, he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it to Lyla's face.

Francis’s swift, practiced movement caught Lyla off guard. Her body weakened, vision blurred, and she slipped into unconsciousness.

"Francis, what are you doing?" Jude Holmes gasped in alarm. He quickly took Lyla from Francis, his grip tight.

"You fool! She's determined to stay. Can you stop her? Get her out of here! Cameron's men are closing in. We're no match for him. If you want her back in Cameron's hands, go ahead!" Francis lamented, regretting his involvement in this mess.

"You..." Jude was taken aback by Francis's foresight, casting him an apologetic glance. Truly, compared to Francis, Jude felt immature.

"Enough! If you don't leave now, I'll knock you out too! Hurry! I don't want to see my estate wrecked!" Despite his harsh words, Francis's concern reflected his genuine intentions.

"Thank you, Uncle..." Holding Lyla, Jude solemnly bowed, showing respect usually reserved for rare occasions.

"Jude, make sure you come back!" Watching Jude's retreating figure, Francis felt unease gnawing at him. He couldn't determine if his actions would save or doom Jude.

"If I don't return… please take care of Grandma! She's always worried about you!" Without looking back, Jude spoke softly, his eyes moist with unshed tears.

Lifting his head, Jude suppressed the bitterness, took a deep breath, and vanished with Lyla from the serene courtyard.

Francis stood there, Jude's words resonating deeply, stirring a pang of pain within him…

~

Jude drove swiftly, glancing at Lyla frequently, narrowly avoiding several collisions. Yet, as fate would have it, he ended up in an accident.

A bright red sports car, flashy and audacious, persistently tailed Jude's vehicle. The driver was Emerie Adams. Jude honestly thought this woman was like a persistent ghost.

Emerie had noticed Jude's car by chance. In New York, only a few could afford such luxury, so she took a second glance. That glance was enough to spark chaos.

Lyla sat quietly in the passenger seat, her porcelain-doll-like stillness infuriating Emerie. She tailed them aggressively onto the highway, determined to see what had captivated so many men.

Trailing another car in a jealous frenzy might seem absurd, yet for Emerie, whose mind was warped with bitterness, it was perfectly plausible. She'd even abandoned her own child in an orphanage. What wouldn't she do?

Jude had already noticed Emerie's pursuit, having no time or inclination to deal with her madness. He accelerated, pushing his vehicle forward.

Emerie, however, was relentless. She couldn't let Lyla slip away so easily.

Half-conscious, Lyla felt as though she were adrift at sea, swaying and dizzy, struggling to open her eyes.

"Jude… Holmes!" Lyla was not heavily sedated due to her pregnancy, regaining consciousness after about ten minutes.

Forcing herself awake, Lyla shook her head, recognizing the person and surroundings, startled. "What are you doing? Where are you taking me?"

"Lyla… you're awake?" Jude hadn't expected her to awaken so soon, uneasily glancing at her.

At that moment, Emerie's car rammed them again, relentlessly. Her intentions were clear; she was set on stopping Jude.

The collision startled Jude, who instinctively overcorrected, sending his car toward the highway railing.

"Watch out!" Startled by nearly being thrown from the car, Lyla jolted awake. Seeing Jude's frantic efforts to steer, her heart nearly stopped.

Jude broke into a cold sweat. The car, as if possessed, was out of control, the brakes seemingly failing. They were headed for the railing!

"Damn it!" Jude shouted, slamming the brakes, his body shielding Lyla, determined to protect her at any cost. Luckily, the car stopped just in time.

"Lyla, I'm sorry! Are you alright?" Jude's first instinct was to check on Lyla, concern etched on his face.

"I'm… I'm fine! What about you?" Lyla, though shaken, managed to steady her voice, tucking her hair behind her ear and exhaling deeply.

"I'm okay. Lyla, stay in the car; I'll handle this." Seeing Emerie approach, Jude knew she was targeting Lyla. He wouldn't let this venomous woman hurt her. Locking the windows, Jude prepared to confront Emerie, eager to rid themselves of her menace.

"Jude?" Lyla barely registered what was happening before Jude kissed her forehead and left the car.

The scene played out in perfect tension. Jude couldn't fathom Jolie Stone's audacity. She'd promised to delay Cameron but never imagined such tactics. The moment Cameron departed, Jude followed suit, uneasy about leaving the child with Skyler Lopez.

~

"Jolie Stone, are you satisfied now? Don’t think you'll get away with this! If you want a fight, bring it on. I can make your whole family's life miserable!" Cameron stood by the hospital bed, his face dark with frustration. He'd lost all patience for Jolie. If it weren't for the media waiting outside, he'd already have confronted the child.

"Cameron, you drove me to this. You taught me to be heartless, to show no mercy these past five years!" Jolie retorted, lying on the hospital bed, not sparing him a glance.

"Hmph, I underestimated you, Jolie Stone! What have you gained these five years? Aside from a series of wheelchairs, your life lacks any scenery!" Cameron's words weren't just sarcastic. Further entanglement held no meaning.

"Even if I'm trapped, I'm willing! Cameron, haven't you heard? Loving someone doesn’t require their involvement. It's my concern alone!" Jolie yanked out her IV line, her voice defiant.

"Your concern? If it entails always acting in front of me, how noble is your love?" Cameron couldn't tolerate Jolie's persistence, regretting not exposing her five years ago.

Had he been more ruthless then, disregarded Nora James’s opinion, perhaps his life wouldn't be in disarray. Perhaps he and Lyla might have reconciled, maybe even had a lively child…

But it was too late now, and what he wanted seemed like an elusive fantasy.

"Yes, I'm neither pure nor noble. Cameron, since meeting you, I've been captivated! How could someone who's fallen so low be unblemished?" Jolie’s heart ached. Love's pain, yet unable to hate, kept her tethered to Cameron. She'd always sought possession, yet always failed.

"The car crash five years ago... if I hadn't overheard your appalling words at the hospital, maybe you'd be my wife now. But Jolie, your cunning showed me endless ugliness. I've shattered, needing no broken wife! A woman so cruel to herself can't dream of being loved. Stop your scheming! This is your last chance—leave or... it's over!" Cameron's tone softened. He'd tried not to hurt Jolie but she'd tested his patience too long.

Jolie, panic-stricken, realized Cameron had always known of her deception.

"Aunt... Aunt..." Jolie's voice echoed as she approached, her signature loudness alerting everyone.

The hospital bustled, yet the VIP floor remained serene—home to the wealthy and powerful.

Jolie’s visit was originally to see Nora under the guise of concern, but it was mostly strategic.

Lyla Greene slipped into the Victorian-style dress Cameron Carlson had picked out for her and twirled in front of the mirror, caught off guard by her reflection. She always knew she was beautiful, but this look was different—captivating and mysterious. The semi-sheer black fabric gave her an enigmatic charm, and she felt a flicker of nervousness.

The dress wasn't revealing; in fact, it was quite modest. With its full-length skirt, cinched waist, and a white knitted shawl, it accentuated Lyla's form without showing too much. She was puzzled as to why Cameron had chosen such an old-fashioned, demure gown for the party, especially since he usually preferred her in trendier attire. Yet, she had to admit, the dress did its magic in its own way.

“Seems like I know your figure well,” Cameron noted, his eyes gleaming with appreciation as she descended the staircase. He nodded in approval, satisfied. He didn’t want other men to enjoy the sight of Lyla in something less modest, hence his choice for the evening. Even he was surprised by his growing possessiveness.

“No matter how conservative, your allure can’t be hidden,” he added, pulling Lyla into a warm embrace. Her presence stirred unfamiliar feelings in him.

The sudden embrace made Lyla’s heart flutter. She looked up into Cameron’s intense eyes, feeling her cheeks warm slightly. “Let… let go of me. We’re in the living room!” she exclaimed, trying to wriggle free. But his strong arms only held her tighter.

“How about we skip the party altogether?” Cameron suggested, caressing her styled hair before impulsively kissing her neck. “Mrs. Carlson, you’re irresistible.”

“Cameron, let me go. We’re going to be late!” Lyla protested, his kisses causing a mix of discomfort and excitement, her face flushed.

“Eager, aren't we?” Cameron teased, masking his own conflicted emotions. “Have you forgotten how they humiliated you at your wedding? How your so-called friend walked away with your fiancé, her pregnancy turning into a public scandal?” He tilted her chin up, his eyes clouded with anger. “Tonight is their child’s baptism. Are you really in such a rush?”

“Enough! Stop reminding me of the past,” Lyla pleaded, her heart heavy with the memories. “Please, Cameron, let’s not dwell on it.”

“Not say anything?” Cameron continued, his tone sharp. “A year’s gone by, and you’re still too trusting. I thought you were stronger now. If you can’t handle this, how will you reclaim what’s yours?”

“I know what I’m doing,” Lyla said, her fists clenched, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I haven’t forgotten how I ended up here, and those who hurt me will face the consequences.”

“Good. Accepting reality is the first step,” Cameron replied, releasing her and stepping back. “But remember, you also have to understand your current role.”

“My role?” Lyla repeated, perplexed. “I’ve been cut off. After the wedding fiasco, my father got seriously ill, and my stepmother and uncle took everything. You know that.”

“I know. That’s why you’re no longer Lyla Greene. Until you take back your place, there's no Lyla Greene in this world.” Cameron glanced at his own wedding ring, lost in thought. “You need a new identity.”

“A new identity? What identity?” Lyla asked, baffled by Cameron’s intentions.

“You’re my wife. At the party, being Mrs. Carlson will have much more clout than being Lyla Greene.” Cameron smiled, a hint of coldness in his expression, as he caressed her face.

“You…” Lyla was confused. Cameron had never publicly acknowledged their relationship. Who would believe she was Mrs. Carlson?

“Don’t worry. I’ve always said you’re special. Tonight, everyone will know who you are.” He deliberately brushed her ring finger before leading her out.

“What do you mean?” Lyla asked, uneasy. She had a strong feeling something significant was about to happen.

“Nothing really. You’ll see soon enough,” Cameron replied, dismissing her concerns as he opened the car door and settled into the driver’s seat.

Lyla shook her head, exhaling slowly before getting into the car. Despite spending a year with him, Cameron remained a mystery to her.

Meanwhile, Jude Holmes was face to face with Emerie Adams by his flashy sports car on a bridge, visibly upset. Lyla, trapped inside the car, could only watch through the window as Jude gestured wildly during what looked like a heated argument with Emerie.

“Why is she here?” Lyla wondered, surprised but not entirely shocked by Emerie's presence. Her life had become a string of unexpected events.

“Emerie, say what you want. If you’re here to harm Lyla, I won’t let you get near her. You’ll regret it,” Jude warned, his tone unusually fierce.

Emerie laughed mockingly. “Oh please, with your family’s name, do you think you’re untouchable? Or maybe you want to stage a dramatic showdown with her?” she taunted, trying to push past Jude towards Lyla.

“We don’t have time for this, Emerie. Step back now!” Jude said, grabbing Emerie and shoving her away.

“Oh, Jude. Since when did you become so ruthless? Or do I need to remind you how to treat a lady?” Emerie flirted shamelessly, reaching to brush Jude’s chest.

“Get off me, you vile woman!” Jude shouted, warning her. “If you keep this up, I won’t mind tossing you and your car off this bridge!”

“Go ahead, Jude. I’m not scared. I’ll call Cameron right now, and we’ll see who ends up worse!” Emerie threatened, her face twisted in anger as she pulled out her phone.

Jude didn’t expect her audacity. There was barely any time before Lyla needed to leave for the airport, and he couldn’t afford delays.

“Give it to me!” he demanded, trying to snatch the phone.

“No way, Jude. Call him! Let’s see him deal with your precious Lyla,” Emerie smirked, keeping the phone out of reach.

“You witch!” Unrestrained, Jude lunged for her arm to seize the phone.

But in their struggle, they forgot they were on a bridge with traffic rushing by. A single misstep could be fatal.

“Watch out!” Jude shouted too late.

Emerie never imagined her malicious plans would lead to this. Focused on her phone, she didn’t notice the oncoming truck.

The crash was swift. Emerie’s body was hurled through the air before hitting the ground hard. The terrifying moment lasted seconds but felt like an eternity.

Emerie lay in a pool of blood, her body spasming in a final struggle. The truck driver, shaken, hurried out, glancing at Jude before checking Emerie’s pulse.

Jude stood frozen, mind blank. Though he didn’t need to check, he knew Emerie wouldn’t make it.

Lyla, having witnessed everything, was pounding on the car window. “Emerie! Emerie!” she cried, tears flowing freely.

“Open the door! Let me out!” she shouted, but Jude was immobilized, incapable of movement.

Shock had paralyzed Jude—his own guilt weighing heavily. He was, in part, responsible for Emerie’s fate.

Finally, Jude turned to see Lyla’s tear-streaked face and made a decision. “Lyla, something’s happened. Listen, I’m taking you to the airport. You can’t stay here,” Jude said, his usual gentle tone now replaced by urgency and a hint of desperation.

“Let me out! Emerie’s hurt; I have to help her!” Lyla insisted, ignoring Jude’s warning.

“Lyla, Emerie’s gone! There’s nothing you can do!” Jude’s voice broke, eyes brimming with grief and guilt.

Jude arrived at Skyler Lopez’s estate just as Lyla was stepping out. She had no idea Cameron was already aware of Keily’s existence and appeared calm.

After settling Keily for a nap, she decided to return to Jude, but found her way blocked by him.

“Lyla, where’s Keily?” Jude asked, holding her arm with urgency.

“He’s asleep. It’s been a long flight. Jude, what’s wrong? Why are you so frantic?” Lyla asked, puzzled by his demeanor.

“Lyla, listen. Don’t panic, but it’s possible Cameron knows about Keily,” Jude began hesitantly, unsure whether to share the news.

“What? How could he know?” Lyla’s heart raced, disbelief coloring her voice.

“It’s likely he’s been tailing you. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have known. We have to leave with Keily before he has a chance to confirm it,” Jude advised, urgency in his tone.

“I’m not panicking!” Lyla insisted, though clearly shaken. “But if he finds out, do you think he’ll let go easily? How did he find out, Jude? Explain!”

“Maybe he’s been tailing you,” Jude suggested, trying to calm her. “But we have to act fast.”

Lyla’s world was spinning. If Cameron discovered the truth about Keily, she knew he’d recognize his own child in him.

Meanwhile, Nora James’s fainting spell, stirred by Jolie Stone’s antics, became the talk of the town. Nora, a public figure, found herself in fresh scandal thanks to Jolie’s media stunt. The incident turned Lyla into a laughingstock, with rumors spreading that her jealousy had driven Nora to the hospital.

Even as Lyla sat in Nora’s hospital room, tabloids painted her as a villainous homewrecker. Yet she knew in her heart that wasn’t the truth. What she wanted was not revenge on Nora—it was answers.

“Ma’am, don’t worry about it. That woman always makes a fuss over nothing. Don’t stoop to her level,” the housekeeper urged, trying to comfort Lyla. She secretly hoped Lyla and Cameron would reconcile, having seen their undeniable connection.

“You’re overthinking it,” Lyla replied, setting the papers aside. “Go check if she’s awake yet. She should be by now.”

“I’ll go see if she’s awake. Here, have some coffee to keep you going,” the housekeeper said, handing Lyla a thermos.

“Madam, she’s awake!” the housekeeper announced shortly after.

“Is she?” Lyla stood and headed toward the room. “Have you called the doctor?”

“Yes, they’re on their way,” the housekeeper replied, following Lyla. “But she doesn’t seem fully coherent.”

Lyla stood by Nora’s bedside, watching her lips move faintly.

“The doctor will be here soon. Don’t worry, I won’t harm you now. Unlike you, I know right from wrong,” Lyla assured, noting Nora’s frightened expression.

“No… I…” Nora struggled to speak, bound by some unseen force.

“What?” Lyla leaned in closer to hear Nora’s whispers, despite their strained relationship.

“Something…” Nora tried, her voice weak, but her urgency clear.

“Let’s wait for the doctor, then we can talk,” Lyla said, stepping back as the doctor entered.

The doctor conducted a brief examination before gesturing for Lyla to step outside.

“Is it serious?” Lyla asked once they were outside.

“The patient shows signs of a cerebral hemorrhage. We need to prepare for surgery immediately,” the doctor informed her, jotting notes on a chart.

“Then proceed with the surgery,” Lyla instructed without hesitation.

“The risks are significant. Are you her family?” the doctor questioned, skeptical of her authority.

“I’m aware you’re not,” he added, implying Lyla’s involvement was unwelcome.

The doctor’s insinuations and dismissive remarks stung, but Lyla remained composed. Her immediate concern was Nora’s health, despite their past. Her thoughts lingered on how to reach the person who might help resolve this.

As night settled over Florence, the city's shimmering lights captivated Lyla Greene from the car window. She eagerly rolled it down, relishing the fresh air after feeling trapped in Cameron Carlson's mansion for far too long.

Cameron drove in silence, occasionally glancing at Lyla through the rearview mirror. She seemed lost in a perfect daydream, free from burdens, worries, or animosity. Her eyes held a longing for the outside world, a side of her that Cameron found spellbinding.

"Why are you staring at me?" Lyla suddenly asked, sensing the intensity of his gaze. Her cheeks warmed as she turned to meet his fiery eyes.

Thrown off by her question, Cameron felt a twinge of guilt at being caught. He awkwardly looked away, clearing his throat to hide his embarrassment.

"When we get to your family's home, follow my lead. If you get too emotional and cause a scene, you're on your own—don't say I didn't warn you," Cameron said, his voice returning to its usual aloofness.

Lyla simply shrugged, turning back to the window. "Don't worry, I know what I'm doing," she muttered under her breath, clenching her fists and closing her eyes, trying to shut out the world outside.

Despite Cameron's swift driving, they arrived at the Greene family's residence to find the driveway crowded with luxury cars. They waited a couple of minutes for a parking spot. Unfazed by the valet's lack of recognition, Cameron courteously opened Lyla's door, inviting her out of the car with a rare tenderness that made her wary. Hesitantly, she placed her hand in his.

As she was drawn into Cameron's familiar embrace, his scent disoriented her, and her breath caught.

"Mrs. Carlson, keep it together—this isn't our bedroom," Cameron teased, nibbling playfully at her ear. He delighted in provoking Lyla, enjoying the unease it caused her.

"Let go of me!" Lyla demanded as the crowd around them began to grow. Not wanting to draw attention, she tried to pull away and head toward the house.

"Mrs. Carlson, wait—you forgot something," Cameron said, pulling her back and wrapping an arm around her waist with a mischievous grin.

"Cameron, what are you doing? We’re in front of everyone!" Lyla protested. But before she could finish, Cameron kissed her. She was taken aback; he was kissing her in front of everyone.

"Because I want everyone to know you're my Lyla," Cameron murmured, brushing her nose playfully. "You've been away from home since marrying me, and now you're back without even wearing your wedding ring. Your father would be disappointed if he saw."

From his pocket, Cameron produced a small, ornate box. He opened it to reveal a dazzling diamond ring, slipping it onto her finger amidst the crowd's gasps.

"Cameron, what is this?" Lyla's eyes widened, bewildered by the sudden attention. This was the first time he had given her a ring, let alone one so extravagant.

Facing his determined gaze, Lyla realized he had planned this from the start. She knew better than to question him further; he might do something even bolder. Silently, she dropped the subject, allowing Cameron to lead her by the hand into the house.

Cameron's presence created a stir at the Greene family gathering. The guests were awestruck, eagerly approaching him. As the head of Pure Wing, the famous jewelry empire, Cameron Carlson was renowned for his sharp business skills and striking good looks, making him the most sought-after bachelor. His arrival had single-handedly elevated the event to its peak.

Thanks to Cameron, Lyla also found herself in the spotlight.

"Jude! If you want to leave, go, but I won't," Lyla declared, ignoring Jude Holmes' pleas. She hurried to Emerie Adams, drawn by the strong scent of blood. Kneeling beside the woman, she gently lifted her, horrified at the blood-soaked face. "Emerie, wake up! It's Lyla. You hate me, don't you? Here I am. Get up and yell at me!"

Lyla didn't care about past wrongs; she just wanted Emerie to wake up. As cruel as Emerie had been, Lyla couldn’t bring herself to harbor resentment.

"Lyla..." Emerie groaned in agony, Lyla's voice piercing through her haze.

"Yes, it's me! Don't move, just talk to me. The ambulance is on its way," Lyla cried with relief at the response. Her mind was singularly focused on saving Emerie.

Emerie's barely-there consciousness didn't stop her from expressing bitterness, "Lyla, you must be happy now, seeing me like this."

"Emerie, stop it! We don’t have to fight anymore. You're my sister, no matter what. Please, just hold on," Lyla begged, tears flowing freely.

"You're a fool..." Emerie murmured, touched by Lyla's sincerity. As she lay there, she couldn't help but feel the warmth from their shared past—something she hadn’t felt since her parents' tragic accident.

"You don’t hate me? After everything?" Emerie asked, her defenses crumbling.

"I've never hated you. I understand your pain and resentment. Let’s be sisters again, okay?" Lyla pleaded, clutching Emerie tighter as her strength waned.

"I'm sorry for everything. I deserve this," Emerie confessed, her voice fading as she surrendered to her fate.

"I have a son... just six months old. He... he's innocent. Promise me, Lyla, go to the orphanage, look after him. Don't let him know about me," Emerie begged with what little strength she had left.

"I promise, I will," Lyla assured, her heart breaking for the child Emerie would leave behind.

"Thank you... And one last thing... Chaim... it wasn't..." Emerie struggled to speak, desperate to reveal the truth about Chaim Greene’s death. But before she could finish, a violent cough wracked her body, and she passed away in Lyla’s arms, leaving her words unspoken.

"Emerie, no! Wake up!" Lyla screamed, holding the lifeless body. Emerie's death felt like the world collapsing around her.

"She’s gone," Jude observed from a distance, knowing Lyla's compassion would drag her into deep grief.

From afar, Cameron watched Lyla through the car window. This woman, who had been absent from his life for days, was crying. And he was the reason for her pain.

Lyla felt darkness closing in. Cameron knew about Keily, their child, but what would he do?

Sitting by the bed, Lyla watched the sleeping Keily, gently stroking his head. She had protected him with all her heart, understanding all too well the challenges he had faced since birth.

At times, Lyla blamed herself, wishing she had been stronger to reject this fate. But in the quiet moments when Keily whispered "Mommy" in his sleep, her resolve to protect him strengthened.

"Mommy, help... the witch... bad people," Keily murmured, stirring anxiously, causing Lyla to worry about his nightmares.

"Keily, what's wrong?" Lyla whispered, leaning closer to hear him better.

"Lyla, we should leave with Keily now," Jude urged, having heard enough to know the danger Keily faced, especially from Destiny Holmes.

"But where can we go, Jude? He knows Keily is with Skyler. Where else can we hide?" Lyla asked, her voice laced with fear.

"We don't have to stay in Italy. Let’s go back to Florence," Jude suggested after much thought.

Lyla decided not to head to the police station, knowing Cameron wouldn’t stay there overnight. Even if he were in trouble, he’d find a way out.

She arrived at Cameron's villa, the door unlocking automatically as if expecting her. Shaking her head at the elaborate surveillance, she laughed dryly.

"Mrs. Carlson, you're here. The master just returned," Lennox Hill greeted her, relieved by her return. He had been worried since she left abruptly.

Lyla smirked at the thought of Cameron escaping yet another sticky situation. Her initial concern morphed into amusement at how she might tease him about it later.

Lennox led her to Cameron’s study. Knowing Cameron wouldn’t refuse Lyla, Lennox departed without informing him of her arrival.

Upon entering, the sharp smell of smoke hit her, making her cough. Cameron stood silhouetted against the window, lost in thought.

"Surprised to see me back so soon?" Cameron asked, turning toward her after putting out his cigarette.

"Impressed the law can't keep you. Maybe it's time you returned to your own planet," Lyla teased, opening a window to let out the smoke.

The fresh air invigorated Cameron, stirring a fleeting desire to embrace her. But he restrained himself, maintaining the distance between them.

"I'm not going anywhere, because you're here," Cameron said, a rare moment of vulnerability catching them both off guard.

Surprised, Lyla turned to see him, momentarily doubting her ears. Embarrassed, Cameron shifted his attention to his desk, hiding his face from her view.