“Do you think Hubert might still be alive?”

Ryan froze for half a second before quickly regaining his composure.

“H-how could that be? They already recovered his clothes and shoes from the river. You saw them yourself.”

A week ago, Hubert’s car had plunged into the river late at night.

The police concluded he’d been swept away by the current while trying to escape from the vehicle.

I’d stayed by the riverbank all night without closing my eyes.

The rescue team searched for days and only found his jacket and shoes. I’d been so devastated I nearly passed out.

Today was supposed to be our wedding day.

I held our photo and cried until my head throbbed.

And now, to learn all of it was staged by him…

My grief had been nothing but a cruel joke.

[The male lead really outdid himself this time. Cheating and playing the victim? That’s just pathetic.]

[Right? At first, I thought this story was going to be a sweet romance. Turns out it’s just heartbreak served cold.]

[The female lead’s such a stunning socialite from Ashford’s high society. If he doesn’t want her, I’ll take her any day.]

The nausea and ache in my chest eased a little, thanks to those comforting comments.

Ryan spoke again. “Rose, don’t let your thoughts run wild. If Hubert could see you right now, he’d be heartbroken.”

Heartbroken, huh…

What an ironic word.

I had even thanked him for helping me arrange Hubert’s funeral just this morning.

It turned out they were all just the same underneath.

Following the comments’ hints, I searched for the account of Hubert’s mistress on social media.

That was when I discovered she’d appeared right under my nose countless times.

She was a small influencer under Hubert’s media company, named Jenna Song.

Her account was called “ParkerAndJenna.”

The latest video showed a street in Westin, where two people held hands and embraced like they’d finally reached the end of a long journey.

And I could recognize that small mole on the man’s hand.

The caption read: “In the year of purest love, he left behind the fiancée his family had chosen for him and crossed more than ten thousand kilometers to find me, all the way from Ashford to Westin.”

The video went viral, and the comment section was filled with praise for their ‘beautiful love story.’

“It’s like a real-life forbidden romance! A billionaire chasing his lover across the world—so romantic!”

“This plot feels familiar. The ‘billionaire-chasing-his-runaway-lover’ story just came to life for real! Ahhh!”

“Rich men really are hopeless romantics. Where can I find a sugar daddy?”

Then the messages appeared again.

[Are these commenters even real? This isn’t romance, it’s an affair scandal.]

[Fiancée his family had chosen for him? Please. Stop glorifying the cheater. The fiancé the female lead’s family set her up with before was literally supposed to be the story’s main villain!]

Hubert and I weren’t in an arranged marriage.

We met back in high school.

By then, my parents had already chosen a match for me.

He was Liam Park, the heir to one of Ashford’s most powerful families.

But I didn’t want to marry him.

My parents’ marriage had been built on interests, not love.

Growing up, I watched them act affectionate in public, only to bring different lovers home in private.

The rare times they were together always ended in shouting and blame.

I was tired of that kind of hollow, broken relationship.

So, I rejected the idea of marrying for convenience.

During my second year of high school, Hubert was assigned the seat behind me.

When I was at my lowest, he came into my life like a ray of sunshine—warm, persistent, and impossible to ignore.

Saying yes to his confession felt completely natural.

We grew together from high school sweethearts to a couple planning our wedding.

Not long ago, we even returned to our old school to give a talk.

Everyone envied us as the perfect match.

People said our story was a school romance come to life, and I believed them.

I truly thought I’d found real love.

I never realized that the one person I thought would never betray me had already found himself another woman.

In her videos, the girl called him “honey” in a sweet, clingy voice.

She posted clips titled “Little Moments with My Sugar Daddy,” and countless followers kept urging her to upload more.

Hubert would hold her in his arms, filming trendy couple dances together.

Even though his face never appeared, it was obvious he was enjoying every second.

All those business trips he talked about, he took her along each time.

And every night I thought he was working late, he was actually in someone else’s arms.

Once, I told him not to push himself so hard.

He smiled and said, “I just want your parents to respect me. I also want to earn more, so I can give you a wedding everyone envies.”

Five minutes before the “accident,” Hubert sent me a message: “No matter what happens, I’ll always love you.”

Every time I read that text, I cried all over again.

And now, it all felt like a bubble that had burst into nothing.

[The male lead even had his fake-death story all figured out—swept downstream, rescued by some kind family, and conveniently struck with amnesia.]

[The worst part? The female lead actually believed him, married him, and lived a miserable life, trapped in a cycle of forgiveness until she died broken-hearted. Why are authors still writing this kind of toxic old-school drama?!]

[But hey, the story’s taking a twist now. The female lead found out the truth early. Please let her not repeat the same mistake this time!]

I went downstairs.

On the living room couch sat Hubert’s mother, Susan Parker.

When she saw me, her eyes, red and swollen from crying, narrowed sharply.

“If you hadn’t insisted he come back, my son wouldn’t have driven into that river. You’re the reason he’s dead. His blood is on your hands.”

Hubert had been on a business trip out of town.

The day after Hubert’s “accident” was supposed to be the day we tried on our wedding outfits.

He’d lost control of his car that night and plunged into the river.

When I first received the news of his death, I forced myself to stay calm and comfort his mother.

But she shoved me hard and screamed, “You jinx! You’re the reason my son’s dead!”

[The female lead should run while she still can. A house without blessings isn’t worth stepping into.]

[She won’t. A few days ago, the male lead’s mom called her a curse and said she doomed her husband to die, and she actually blamed herself. After being tormented by that old witch, she’ll just end up getting tortured again when the male lead comes back from his fake death.]

Susan and I never got along.

Before the accident, he’d promised me that after our marriage, we wouldn’t live with her.

But lately, out of guilt, I let her take out all her anger on me.

Now, watching her clutching Hubert’s photo, I suddenly found the sight almost comical.

Before I realized it, a laugh slipped out.

Susan exploded instantly. “What the hell are you laughing at?”

She jumped to her feet, about to slap me.

Sean rushed over to hold her back. “Please, ma’am, calm down. Rose is just heartbroken and not thinking clearly. Don’t take it to heart.”

Ryan added, “Rose, just apologize to her, okay?”

I slowly walked over to Susan.

She turned her head away, thinking I was about to comfort her.

“No matter what you say, I’ll never forgive you. You and my son were only engaged, not married. Don’t even think about getting a penny of his inheritance.”

But I only leaned closer.

Whispering in her ear, I said, “Your son got exactly what he deserved. When are you going to join him, you old hag?”

She gasped, clutching her chest, and collapsed onto the couch behind her.

[Hahaha, the old witch finally got what she deserved! Team female lead all the way! Let’s see who dares to mess with her now!]

[Finally! The female lead isn’t putting up with her anymore.]

The room descended into chaos as the relatives rushed toward Susan.

She pointed a trembling finger at me. “It’s her! She’s the one who killed my son! Ryan, call the police and have her arrested!”

[The male lead’s mom is completely unhinged. No wonder she raised such a jerk of a son.]

[The female lead’s finally standing up for herself. This is so satisfying!]

[I just hope she’s truly done this time. I’m scared she’ll cave the second the male lead comes back…]

Tears welled in my eyes. “Since you hate me so much, Mrs. Parker, I’ll move out of this house.”

“Rose, don’t say that. You’re upset right now.”

“It’s fine. Stop trying to talk me out of it. The longer I stay, the more it hurts her. I’ve already decided to leave.”

Ryan and Sean exchanged a look.

This clearly wasn’t part of their plan.

Ryan stepped aside and sent a message to Hubert.

Hubert replied, “You know how my mom is. She raised me on her own. It hasn’t been easy. Tell Rose to be more understanding.”

“But… your mom keeps cursing at her. She’s dead set on moving out.”

“Then let her. Once I’m back, I can talk her into coming home.”

“Got it. I’ll leave it for now.”

Of course, I couldn’t hear their conversation.

But thanks to the messages, I knew exactly what was said.

After packing up the things that belonged to me, my friend, Holly Park, helped me call a moving company.

“Rose, are you sure you’re okay?” she asked carefully.

She’d seen with her own eyes how shattered I’d been just a few days ago.

“I’m fine,” I said, shaking my head. “Right now, I just want to find a place to move into as soon as possible.”

Then something seemed to occur to her.

“My brother has a villa. He hasn’t stayed there since he went abroad. You can move in for now until you find somewhere better.”

The messages suddenly flooded in.

[Our dark, obsessive second male lead is finally about to show up! The original story barely gave him any scenes, but honestly, I kind of love his character.]

[He texted the female lead, and she still hasn’t replied. His villain arc just leveled up to max.]

Second male lead? Liam Park?

I didn’t even have his number, only his old contact from middle school.

And that account had been hacked for years, sending me random links every month or two.

Afraid they were viruses, I’d never opened any of them.

I even muted the notifications.

So, I’d missed the message he sent me a week ago.

He wrote: “Do you need help?”

That same night, news broke all over Ashford that the rescue team was searching the river for Hubert.

A video of me crying during an interview went viral online.

Many people felt sorry for Hubert’s tragic death and sympathized with me.

Liam’s message had been sent that very day.

I hadn’t seen his message back then, so of course, I never replied.

After thinking for a moment, I decided to send a polite response anyway: “No, thank you.”

He replied almost instantly: “Alright.”

That short exchange brought back the memory of the day Hubert confessed to me.

He’d asked me to meet him by the grove next to the school building.

The wind that day was strong, whipping my hair across my face.

As I brushed it aside, I looked up and saw Liam standing on the top-floor balcony.

He leaned casually against the railing, his dark eyes calm as they followed me.

I looked at him for a moment.

Then lowered my gaze, smiling as I said to Hubert, “Okay.”

When Hubert leaned in and kissed my cheek, I looked up again.

The boy at the end of the corridor was already gone.

Only the branches above us kept swaying wildly in the wind.