Warren's POV

“Ah, dude, what a mess this turned into!” Ray laughed awkwardly. “Totally my fault. Last month, the property office came by to update the records. Elvira wasn’t home, so I just put down my own contact information. I’ll go there right now and explain everything. I'll get it changed back immediately!”

He sounded sincere, but I noticed his right index finger tapping nervously against his thigh, and his eyes kept flicking away, which were classic signs of lying.

But what bothered me even more was the way he called Elvira. His tone was way too sweet.

Still, I didn’t lose my temper, not yet.

“I came all the way back from overseas and just stepped off the plane. You’re not planning to invite me in to sit down?”

Elvira’s expression stiffened, and Ray’s smile froze as well.

They exchanged a quick look, which tightened my chest like a fist.

“Warren, maybe another day,” Elvira said awkwardly. “Ray has a lot of pets, so the place is a bit messy—”

I didn’t let her finish. I shoved past Ray and walked straight inside.

The first thing that hit me was the smell. A heavy cologne I didn’t recognize, mixed with the faint sweetness of Elvira’s usual perfume.

The villa didn’t look like mine anymore.

The elegant furniture I had carefully chosen was gone, replaced with gaudy pieces.

The framed photos of Elvira and me had vanished, too. In their place hung random abstract paintings.

But what stopped me cold was the coffee table.

Two wine glasses still sat there, stained with deep red at the bottom.

Beside them was a torn-open condom wrapper.

Elvira’s face flushed crimson. She rushed forward, snatched it up, and tossed it into the trash.

“Don’t get the wrong idea! Ray sometimes brings his girlfriend over—”

Ray jumped in quickly. “That’s right, bro. My girlfriend was here last week. Honestly, Elvira’s been amazing. I'm grateful that she let me live here and even allowed me to bring friends around.”

As he said that, he kept glancing at me, testing my reaction, wearing an eager and false grin.

I ignored him and headed straight for the master bedroom.

“Warren, wait!” Elvira’s voice cracked in panic, but I was already pushing the door open.

Upon opening, I saw the bed was a mess of tangled sheets, and on the nightstand sat a photo frame.

Inside it was a picture of Elvira and Ray, leaning their heads together, smiling brightly on a beach.

My temples throbbed.

That was Cocoa Island in the Maldives, where we had planned to hold our wedding next year.

Elvira couldn’t meet my eyes. Her gaze darted to a corner of the room, her lips pressed tight, and a thin sheen of sweat glistened on her forehead.

“Warren, let me explain,” she said quickly. “Last month, my company sent me to the Maldives to meet with a French client. Ray speaks French, so I brought him along as my translator. That photo, we took it after the meeting.”

I frowned. “But if I remember correctly, didn’t you major in French yourself?”

Ray lowered his head slightly, his tone soft, almost pleading. “Bro, please don’t blame Elvira. The truth is, she didn’t even want to take me. I just begged her. Said I wanted to see more of the world. You know how it is. I’m new here and don’t know anyone. Elvira’s the closest thing I have to family.”

While he was explaining, I just kept my gaze on Elvira.

Her lashes trembled, her lips pressed into a thin line, and guilt was written all over her face.

Finally, I asked coldly, “Is that so? Then why does the beach in that photo look exactly like the wedding venue I booked for us?”

Warren's POV

As soon as my question dropped, Elvira’s face went pale. She forced a laugh and answered, “That’s just a coincidence. All the beaches in the Maldives look alike…”

Sensing the tension, Ray jumped in right away. “Dude, Elvira’s not lying. Those beaches really do look the same. Most people wouldn’t be able to tell them apart.”

My eyes swept over the messy bedroom, then back to the wine glasses on the coffee table. Finally, they landed on Elvira’s hand.

Her ring finger was bare. The engagement ring I’d given her, which was supposed to mark our promise, was gone.

I pointed at her hand and asked, “Where’s the engagement ring I gave you?”

Her gaze flickered nervously. “I… I’ve been learning how to do chores lately. I was worried I’d lose it, so I put it away.”

Before I could respond, Ray suddenly patted his stomach. “I’m starving.”

Elvira's expression softened instantly. “I’ll cook. You two sit down, it won’t take long.”

She slipped on an apron with practiced ease and started pulling food from the fridge.

Watching her move confidently in the kitchen, I felt a strange disorientation, like they were the true owners of this villa, and I was just a guest.

She chopped vegetables quickly, heated the pan, and didn’t even flinch when the oil splattered.

A memory from the day of our engagement suddenly popped into my head.

Back then, she poutingly said, “Warren, swear to me. You’ll never make me cook or clean. I’ll never touch housework, not before the wedding, not after. You have to spoil me forever.”

I had agreed, and I’d kept that promise.

But here she was, breaking her own words without hesitation, happily cooking for her so-called junior schoolmate.

Ray, on the other hand, lounged back on the sofa, legs crossed, a smug grin tugging at his lips.

He shot me a glance, then cheerfully said, “Bro, stay and eat with us. Elvira's cooking is amazing.”

I stayed silent, but Ray kept talking.

“Her food tastes just like home. Better than any restaurant.”

I pressed my lips together, then asked quietly, “So these past few months, she’s been cooking for you?”

Ray nodded without hesitation. “Of course. She takes such good care of me, always trying out new recipes. Says it’s tough living alone, and she wants me to eat well. Honestly, I’m so touched. She’s been nothing but kind to me.”

I squeezed out a smile, but it was a bitter one.

Just then, Elvira walked out carrying a plate of food, but she froze when she heard our conversation. Her hands stiffened for a moment before she forced a smile and set the dish down.

“Warren, try this. I just learned how to make braised ribs.”

I looked at her and slowly and deliberately asked, “Didn’t you once say you hated the smell of cooking oil? And that you’d never do housework?”

Her face instantly went rigid, and her fingers tightened on the edge of the apron.

But Ray jumped in smoothly. “Dude, people change. Isn’t it a good thing that Elvira's become so domestic? Isn’t this exactly what you’d want?”

I let out a cold snort and didn’t answer.

At the dinner table, Ray kept piling food into Elvira's bowl, showering her with endless praise.

She responded here and there, but her eyes never once dared to meet mine.

The food really was good. But every bite I swallowed tasted like ash.

Ray then dropped another rib into Elvira's bowl and softly, almost intimately, said, “Elvira, you’ve lost weight lately. Eat more.”

Then he shot me a sidelong glance, a faint, mocking smile tugging at his lips.

Elvira lowered her head, her cheeks flushed. Her voice was barely above a whisper as she replied, “Thanks, Ray. You should eat more too.”

Warren's POV

The more I watched their every move, the heavier my chest got as if a boulder pressed down on it.

Setting my chopsticks aside, I stood and said coldly, “I’m done.”

Ray put on a show of surprise. “Already, dude? Elvira's cooking is a rare treat.”

As he spoke, he reached over with a napkin and wiped the corner of Elvira’s mouth.

The gesture was so natural, so practiced, that it made my blood boil.

Still, I ignored them and walked out of the dining room.

But I heard footsteps rushing after me.

Shortly, Elvira caught up and grabbed my sleeve. “Warren, don’t get it wrong. I only wanted to help Ray. It’s not easy for him living alone, so I—”

“So you learned to cook for him? Learned to do housework for him?” I cut her off, my voice dripping with scorn. “Miss Bandman, you really do spoil your little junior, don’t you?”

Her teeth sank into her lip as she hurried to explain. “No! Ray’s stomach is weak. He can’t handle takeout. I was afraid he’d go hungry, so I learned to cook. And he really is talented. He’s helped me so much at work. The project with the French client, without him, it wouldn’t have gone through—”

“Enough!” I raised a hand, silencing her, and shoved open the door to my study.

But the sight inside froze my blood.

My mother’s portrait hung crooked on the wall, and the glass across the frame was cracked in a jagged line.

Beneath it, her diary and several old letters lay scattered across the desk, soaked and stained with dried yellow patches.

The acrid stench of cat urine filled the room.

“What the hell is this?!” My voice shook with fury.

Elvira stammered, “M-Maybe one of Ray’s pets got in by accident—”

“Accident?!” I roared, then snatched up the urine-soaked diary. The fragile paper crumbled in my hands. “These are my mother’s keepsakes! And you let some animals piss all over them?!”

“Warren, calm down!” she pleaded. “Ray’s cats and dogs are usually well-trained. This must’ve been an accident.”

I shoved her hand away and pointed to the bookshelf, where photo albums were chewed through with deep bite marks. “And that? Was that an accident, too? All of my mother’s things were ruined!”

Her lips parted, but no words came out.

At that moment, Ray strolled up to the doorway with a glass of red wine in hand. “Sorry about that, dude,” he said casually. “My pets don’t like strangers. They tend to get destructive when they smell something unfamiliar.”

He took a slow sip, then smiled. “But hey, out with the old, in with the new, right? Don’t worry, I’ll have those photos reprinted tomorrow. They’ll look exactly the same.”

That was it.

I grabbed him by the collar and slammed him against the wall. “Get out! Take your filthy animals and get the hell out of my house!”

But Ray didn’t flinch. He arched a brow, almost amused. “Bro, let’s talk this through. No need for violence.”

“Warren, stop!” Elvira cried out, rushing forward.

She pried at my hands, her nails digging deep into my arm. “Are you crazy? Where’s he supposed to go in the middle of the night?!”

Her eyes brimmed with worry. But not for me, but for him.

“I don’t give a damn where he goes!” I shouted, throwing her hand aside. “He can sleep in a park, under a bridge. I don’t care. But he will not live here!”

“No!” Elvira's voice rose into a scream. “He’s my junior, and I will take care of him!”