"Harley, are you sure about becoming an undercover officer?"

"Yes."

"You're the last surviving member of the Lupones. Think carefully. Come back in a month if you're still certain."

Undercover work meant being prepared to sacrifice everything, even her life. Harley had already made up her mind. In a month, she would erase her identity, wipe her name from existence, and leave her past behind.

Stepping out of the police station, she hailed a cab home. The car stopped suddenly. She glanced out of the window. A giant billboard lit up the city skyline, displaying breaking news: Hensford's richest man, James Franklin, has just spent an astronomical sum to purchase a private island—all to win a smile from his beloved girlfriend, Quincy Lawrence. He plans to build a luxurious villa as their future home.

Harley's lips curled into a bitter smile. Everyone knew Quincy was James' girlfriend, but no one knew that Harley was his wife. She had been married to James for three years. It wasn't a loveless marriage, but James had forgotten her.

She thought back to the past. They had been in love. He had even proposed, but fate was cruel. Her father's undercover mission was exposed. Her entire family of five was slaughtered overnight. At the time, she was in college. She only wanted to save her family and didn't want to drag James down, so she broke up with him. When she got home, she saw her mother and brother tortured beyond recognition. Her mother was tied to a chair. When she saw her, tears streamed down her face, and she mouthed, "Run!"

Then, her mother lunged at the drug dealers. An explosion instantly erupted, and Harley watched her family perish in the flames. The blast threw her across the room, leaving her with life-threatening injuries. In the hospital, she didn't dare close her eyes. As soon as she did, the horrific deaths of her family and the overwhelming hatred filled her mind.

Then she saw James being rushed into the hospital, barely alive. They said he had a car accident on the way to win his girlfriend back. Later, James suffered severe head trauma and massive blood loss. Without an immediate blood transfusion, he wouldn't survive. She heard James say, "Why do you treat me like this? What did I do wrong?"

He had done nothing wrong. His only mistake was falling in love with an undercover officer's daughter. Harley's heart ached, but there was nothing she could do. Then, Harley remembered that she and James had the same blood type. So, she could only ask the doctor to give him her blood.

Despite already losing too much blood herself, the doctors refused to let her donate. She threatened to take her own life if they didn't comply, and only then did the doctor agree. She survived, but her body was left with irreversible aftereffects. The worst was that James completely forgot her.

Their marriage had been destined from the start. It was an arrangement, a joke played by fate. She was the adopted daughter of the Jackmans. Meanwhile, he was the heir to the Franklin empire. An engagement bound them, and neither had a choice. James had only agreed to marry her because of his grandmother's threats. From that day forward, he saw her as the woman he hated most.

Maybe forgetting was for the best. Remembering it only brought pain. Harley had always known they weren't meant to last. It was also because he forgot that she was selfish for once and listened to her adoptive mother marrying him.

However, Harley had to complete her father's mission. Three years was enough. Now, she had to cherish this last month. She pulled out her phone and made a call. Her eyes lingered on the billboard, where the picture of James and Quincy looked like the perfect match. When the call connected, she smiled faintly and asked, "What are you doing? Can you have dinner with me tonight?"

The other end of the line was silent for a long time. Harley tightened her grip on her phone, feeling uneasy. She had been hoping for a different answer, one that would affirm what she already knew because there weren't many chances left. "I'm busy tonight. Eat by yourself." A cold voice came through the phone.

Her hopes shattered in an instant, but she didn't complain. Instead, she replied calmly, "Okay, I'll eat alone." Before she could hang up, the call had already ended. After three years of marriage, she had grown used to his indifference. It was almost as if she had forgotten that there was once a time when James had been gentle, only to her.

Harley knocked herself lightly on the head. No, she couldn't forget. If she forgot, what would she have left? Even the last bit of happiness would be gone. The reason she had wanted James to have dinner with her tonight was simple, it was her birthday and possibly her last.

She just wanted to leave behind a beautiful memory, but that was clearly impossible. Harley refused to feel sorry for herself, so she made a reservation at an upscale restaurant. She put on the prettiest dress she owned, carefully did her makeup, and stepped out in style. She ordered her favorite steak, sat back as the waiter poured her a glass of red wine, and waited.

When the steak arrived, she stared at it, lost in thought. It had been so long since she last had one. She had even forgotten how to cut it properly. For the past few years, she had been avoiding everything related to James, all their memories, and everything they had shared. If she never touched them, it was as if they had never happened.

She used to frequent this restaurant. Back then, James would always cut her steak for her, never letting her do it herself. Her nose tingled as she held back the emotions threatening to surface. Living on memories felt unbearably pathetic.

"Mr. Franklin, Miss Lawrence, this way, please." A waiter's voice snapped her out of her daze.

She turned her head and saw Quincy walking in, arm-in-arm with James. The staff welcomed them warmly. James' face was as cold and unreadable as ever, his deep eyes carrying an icy distance. Even with Quincy beside him, he still gave off an untouchable air."

He never used to be like this, but the moment he looked at Quincy, something changed. His gaze softened. It was as if all his tenderness was reserved only for her. They didn't notice Harley. She sat there in silence, watching them, feeling like a pathetic clown peeking into someone else's happiness.

They had booked a private dining room. From where Harley sat, she had a clear view inside. The moment they took their seats, a waiter pushed in a cart and stopped at the door. It looked like James had planned a surprise for Quincy. Cake, flowers, a gift. Quincy gasped in surprise, her eyes welling up with emotion as she covered her mouth.

It was an ordinary, everyday surprise for Quincy. Still, for Harley, it was something extravagant, something out of reach. That bouquet of yellow roses in Quincy's arms reminded her of the past. Back when, on every holiday, every birthday, every little occasion, James would always prepare a bouquet of red roses for her. Because she loved them. Because he once said she was like a red rose, passionate, thorny, and stubbornly alive.

Harley couldn't look away from their happiness. Gradually, she felt a coolness on her cheeks. She touched them, realizing she was crying. She wiped her tears, worried about smudging her makeup, and went to the restroom.

She turned on the faucet and washed her hands, but tears fell uncontrollably into the sink. Why wouldn't they stop? She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. She looked up at her reflection in the mirror. Her pale face was gaunt, the exhaustion showing through her makeup. She reapplied her lipstick.

"Harley." Suddenly, a voice called from behind her.

Harley caught sight of her in the mirror, her expression stiffening for a brief moment before she silently continued adjusting herself. Quincy walked up beside her, washed her hands, and struck up a conversation. "I saw you the moment I came in. What a coincidence! Eating alone?"

"Yeah," Harley replied nonchalantly.

Seeing the lack of warmth on Harley's face, Quincy's lips curled into a subtle smirk. "I heard you called James, but he had already promised to celebrate with me this morning, so he turned you down. Sorry about that."

Harley's fingers paused slightly, her fist tightening just a little. Even if Quincy had said that deliberately to provoke her, there was nothing she could do to win this game. So, she could only walk away. Just as she turned, Quincy's voice sounded behind her. "When are you finally going to divorce James?"

Harley stopped in her tracks. Quincy wiped her hands, then stepped in front of her. "You know deep down that the person James loves is me. If it weren't for you holding onto the title of Mrs. Franklin, he would have married me long ago. Don't you think you're the one tearing us apart? Making everyone miserable?"

Her words were full of accusations as if everything was Harley's fault. Harley looked at her and asked, "You seem anxious."

Her calmness made Quincy uneasy. She quickly retorted, "I've waited for three years! Isn't that long enough?"

Harley tilted her head slightly. "Then why don't you have James say it himself?"

Quincy pursed her lips slightly. "If it weren't for James' grandmother, do you really think he wouldn't have? If you initiate the divorce, it'll make things easier for him. You've already dragged him along for three years, it's time to end this."

Harley studied Quincy's face, which bore a resemblance to her own. Her lips curved into a mocking smile. "Sometimes, I really wonder. Does he love you, or just the body you happen to inhabit?"

Quincy's expression changed. "What do you mean?"

"Nothing." Harley's voice was indifferent. "Divorce is between me and James. It has nothing to do with you."

After that, she turned to leave. Unfortunately, Quincy wasn't willing to let it go. How much longer did she have to wait? How much longer would she have to endure? As long as Harley remained, Quincy would never be able to marry James. Jealousy burned inside her, twisting her expression.