A chilling realization swept from the soles of Brenna's feet, freezing the blood in her veins.

When Kadin first took over the Mccormick enterprise, the company's capital chain was shattered, teetering on the brink of bankruptcy. It was he who had looked her in the eyes, claiming the company was too volatile to offer her a stable future, promising that the moment the business was back on track, he would marry her.

For years, she had etched that promise into her heart. To win his family's acceptance, to stand by his side, she had used her own hidden resources to strategize for him. She had fought tooth and nail in the ruthless business world, elevating him from an absolute nobody to a man revered by all.

Yet, three years of unwavering devotion were, in his eyes, nothing more than a calculated transaction.

In this supposed romance, she was the only one who had ever truly given her heart. Her three years of sacrifice were nothing but a laughable warm-up act for the triumphant return of his "first love."

Brenna bit down hard on her lower lip, fighting back the tears that threatened to fall. Despite her iron will, a few rogue tears slipped free, betraying the agonizing heartbreak screaming in her chest and causing her slight frame to tremble.

Seeing her momentarily vulnerable state, Kadin's another sister, Evelyn, stepped forward with a gloating smirk. "Brenna, if it weren't for your relentless, shameless clinging, why on earth would my brother agree to marry an uneducated country girl with zero background? If you have any self-awareness left, you'll take the initiative and roll out of the Mccormick family's sight!"

Hearing Evelyn's brazen audacity, Brenna's sorrow instantly hardened into glacial resolve. She straightened her spine, her voice cutting like glass: "Are you suffering from amnesia? Without me, the Mccormick empire wouldn't even exist today!"

"Stop speaking your nonsense!" Evelyn pointed a furious finger at Brenna's face, stomping her foot in rage. "Do you really think you're some irreplaceable mastermind? Without you, the Mccormick family would be thriving just the same!"

A sharp pang twisted in Brenna's chest. So this is how the Mccormicks have viewed me all along.

"Enough! Let's put an end to today's farce." Patricia Mccormick, Kadin's mother, walked over with a look of utter impatience. Her perfectly manicured gaze swept over Brenna with raw disgust, as if looking at a piece of repulsive trash. "Look at the state of you. It's one thing for you to humiliate yourself, but the Mccormick family cannot afford to lose face with you!"

With that final dismissal, Patricia's face flawlessly transitioned into a practiced, elegant smile as she turned away to manage the lingering wedding guests.

Brenna stood her ground, watching the guests whispering and dispersing in twos and threes. Her long-awaited wedding had devolved into an absolute joke. Why had her pure sincerity been answered with such utter betrayal? Was it simply her fault for loving a man who never loved her back?

She slowly closed her eyes, letting the last tear of grief fall. When she opened them again, the vulnerability was gone, replaced by an unbreakable composure.

Half an hour later, Brenna walked aimlessly down a desolate street, her pristine dress contrasting with the grim surroundings.

Unbeknownst to her, the sky had darkened, and a light drizzle quickly escalated into a torrential downpour. She scanned the area. With nowhere else to take shelter, she locked her eyes on a bus stop in the distance and broke into a run, her bare feet hitting the freezing pavement.

Slice.

A jagged piece of gravel tore deep into the sole of her foot.

Brenna winced, her brows knitting together in sharp pain. But she didn't stop. Gritting her teeth, she limped forward, her posture unbroken, pushing through the storm toward the bus stop.

Screech—

A deafening blare of a horn suddenly violently shattered the quiet of the rain-swept street.

Brenna whipped her head around. Blinding headlights pierced the downpour as a speeding vehicle careened directly toward her. Her eyes widened, her pupils contracting violently in the blinding light.

Brenna's mind went blank, her legs suddenly feeling like lead, rooting her to the spot.

A black Bentley tore through the torrential rain, brushing past her like a bolt of dark lightning. The powerful slipstream of the speeding vehicle knocked Brenna off balance, sending her crashing to the wet asphalt.

She expected the car to speed off—after all, the road was deserted, and it would be easy to escape without consequence. But to her surprise, the vehicle reversed and came to a smooth halt right in front of her.

The door opened, revealing a pair of custom-made black leather shoes. Long, tailored legs stepped out in a steady, rhythmic stride. A black umbrella tilted over Brenna, shielding her from the relentless downpour.

"Are you alright?" Dillon's low, cold, and magnetic voice cut clearly through the sound of the rain.

Brenna looked up. The man standing over her possessed a razor-sharp jawline and striking, aristocratic features. His deep gray eyes held a subtle, compelling intensity that was strangely captivating.

Those eyes… She vaguely felt like she had seen them somewhere before, but the throbbing in her head pushed the thought away.

Brenna shook her head, her soft voice slightly raspy but entirely composed. "I'm fine. Thank you."

Bracing herself, she struggled to stand up from the ground. However, the scrape on her leg and the stinging cuts on her feet caused her knee to buckle. She started to fall back, but in that split second, a strong, powerful arm wrapped securely around her waist, pulling her into a solid embrace.

Brenna collided with Dillon's chest, instantly enveloped by the clean scent of rain mixed with a subtle, cold cologne. Instinctively, she pressed her hands against his chest to create distance. Even through the soaked fabric of his suit, she could feel the firm, hard lines of his muscles.

Her palms felt unnervingly warm against him. Subconsciously, she pushed against him, but instead of letting her go, Dillon abruptly swept her up into his arms.

Brenna frowned, a distinct chill gathering in her ice-blue eyes. "What do you think you're doing? Put me down."

She was a woman who guarded her boundaries fiercely; a stranger's sudden, uninvited intimacy immediately put her on high alert.

Dillon looked down at her, his gaze entirely open and unbothered by her hostility. "You're injured. You need to get to a hospital immediately."

"I—I can walk myself," Brenna insisted, highly uncomfortable with the close proximity. His overwhelming presence seemed to surround her from all sides, causing a string of tension to pull tight within her.

"Don't move," Dillon commanded, his voice low but carrying a firm, non-negotiable weight. Realizing her struggle would only worsen her injuries against his iron grip, Brenna conserved her energy and ceased her resistance.

The moment she was placed into the plush back seat of the car, a blast of cold AC made Brenna sneeze.

Dillon immediately reached forward to shut off the cold air. Glancing at her shivering frame, he stripped off his dry, warm suit jacket and draped it securely around her shoulders. "Careful not to catch a cold."

"Thank you," Brenna said evenly. The jacket still held his body heat and that distinct, clean scent, causing a strange, momentary flutter in her chest that she quickly suppressed.

Dillon's gaze flicked to the faint flush on her pale cheeks, a fleeting hint of a smile touching the depths of his eyes. "I'm the one who should be saying thank you."

"Excuse me?" Brenna looked at him, her tone calm but questioning.

Dillon met her gaze candidly, his voice unhurried. "Thank you for accepting my apology, and for giving me the opportunity to make amends for the accident."

The car sped through the city, arriving at the nearest hospital. Despite her injuries, Brenna steadfastly refused a wheelchair, insisting on walking on her own. Dillon didn't force the issue; instead, he patiently slowed his long strides, accommodating her limping pace all the way to the emergency room.

Sometime later, when Brenna emerged from the treatment room, she saw Dillon's tall silhouette at the end of the hallway. He was facing away from her, speaking quietly on his phone. Catching sight of her, he immediately ended the call and walked over with purposeful steps.

He extended a sleek business card to her, his demeanor respectful and composed. "This is my contact information. If you experience any complications or need anything further, please reach out to me."