When they arrived home, Lucien went to park the car while Christina entered the house. She stopped at the doorway, her eyes falling on Vanessa, who was curled up on the sofa in a nightgown, surrounded by snacks, and watching TV.

Christina paused deliberately and said, "Didn't you say you wouldn't be home tonight because of a mixer?"

Vanessa glanced up, curling her lips into a sly smile. "Oh, Christina, I forgot to tell you. I actually had a fight with my boyfriend, so I decided to go to the mixer to make him jealous."

She stretched out her neckline, revealing a scatter of hickeys across her skin, then looked at Christina with a provocative gaze. "I told him about it, and he didn't seem to care at first. But as soon as I arrived at the party, he showed up and dragged me away."

Laughing lightly, she added, "I didn't expect him to be so jealous. He went at it with me three times in the car."

Christina's nails dug into her palms, the sharp sting spreading through her body. She forced herself to breathe and asked, "Since when did you have a boyfriend? You never mentioned it."

Vanessa tilted her head and smiled lazily. "Three months ago."

Three months ago—that was exactly when Vanessa moved into their home. Back then, she had just started working in the city, and Lucien's best friend had asked him to look after her as a favor.

So, from the very first day she moved in, she had been entangled with him.

Christina's breath quickened, and just as she opened her mouth to speak, a pair of warm hands gripped her shoulders from behind.

Lucien's voice was gentle. "Christina, you've had a long day. I'll run a bath for you so you can relax, alright?"

Before she could say anything, he nudged her toward the bathroom.

Once inside, Christina started undressing, ready to wash away her exhaustion. But she suddenly realized she had forgotten to bring clean clothes.

Opening the door, she froze.

Across the room, Lucien was pressing Vanessa down onto the sofa and tugging at her nightgown with a rough urgency. His hands gripped her waist tightly, trailing kisses along her collarbone and downward.

Vanessa breathed heavily, her voice lilting. "Ah... not so hard. Christina's in the bath! Didn't you have enough in the car?"

Lucien's movements grew more intense, his breaths ragged, and Vanessa's whimpers turned almost tearful.

"Shut up!" he growled. "Don't you dare meet other men again!"

Vanessa smirked as though she had won, then suddenly locked eyes with Christina, who stood frozen in the doorway. Her gaze sparkled with mischief.

"Fine, I won't. I'm yours, okay? Jealous fool."

Unable to bear the sight, Christina grabbed her clothes and shut the bathroom door.

Sinking into the water, her mind spun with the image she had just witnessed.

Five years ago, during their honeymoon on a tropical island, he had sulked just because she glanced at a shirtless man on the beach.

He had dragged her back to the presidential suite and kept her there for seven days. By the end, they'd run out of strawberry-flavored rubbers, and the bed had collapsed.

Holding her tightly afterward, his eyes had reddened. "Christina, I have everything they have. Don't look at other men. Don't leave me."

It took endless reassurances before his jealousy subsided.

Since then, she never dared look at another man.

But now, he was just as crazed for Vanessa.

Christina surfaced from the water, taking a deep breath. When she stepped out of the bathroom, Lucien was alone in the room.

On the table, there was a plate of freshly cut fruit and a steaming cup of tea.

Seeing her, Lucien quickly handed her the cup with a warm smile. "I checked your cycle. Your period's coming soon, so I prepared this for you. It'll ease the pain. Drink it while it's hot."

Christina held the cup, feeling no warmth from it.

She couldn't understand how he could act so devoted, fresh from another woman's arms.

The question gnawed at her, keeping her awake all night.

Just as she was about to drift off, Lucien stirred beside her. Suddenly, he shouted her name.

"Christina!"

He woke in a panic, groping blindly until he found her. Pulling her into his arms, his voice trembled. "Don't leave me!"

Christina stiffened. "What's wrong?"

His eyes reddened. "I had a nightmare. I dreamt you left me. But it was just a dream. You're still here."

Lowering her eyes, Christina swallowed her words: Soon, I won't be.

Maybe it was that dream that spooked him, but the next day, Lucien insisted on taking her to work with him.

Christina refused, but he pleaded until she gave in.

Once in his office, she noticed it was filled with photos of her. Seeing her stare, he wrapped his arms around her from behind, rubbing his face against her neck.

"A lot of women try to get close to me, but these photos help keep them away. Don't worry, baby. I'm very faithful."

Christina lowered her eyes, saying nothing.

Just then, his assistant knocked, reminding him of a meeting. Reluctantly, Lucien let go of her and told her to look around while he worked.

Christina wasn't in the mood to explore, but she didn't want to stay in his office either. So she wandered through each floor.

Around noon, her phone rang. It was immigration services.

"Miss Mason, we need you to come in and sign one more document for your emigration application."

Just as she was about to respond, a familiar voice came from behind her.

"What emigration?" Lucien asked.

Christina turned sharply, her eyes locking onto Lucien, who stood behind her. His face was pale as if he'd just seen a ghost.

The phone had barely clicked off before he seized her hand. "Christina, who's emigrating?"

Her expression remained composed. "Just a classmate. She's moving abroad and wanted to meet up before leaving."

Lucien stared at her, uncertain, but his arms encircled her, pulling her close. "I thought it was you. Don't scare me like that again."

Christina curled her lips faintly. "It's just emigration. Why are you acting like it's the end of the world?"

His heartbeat thudded loudly against her. "Christina, you know my family background—three generations in the military. We can't leave the country."

He hesitated for a moment before adding, "If I ever make you unhappy, you can hit me, yell at me, even abandon me, but you can't emigrate. If you leave, I'll never be able to find you. That would destroy me."

Enveloped in his arms, Christina gave a slight smile. "I understand."

Perhaps his instincts warned him, for in the following days, Lucien shadowed her like a second skin.

Even when a friend opened a new club and invited their group to celebrate, Lucien insisted she accompany him.

With his vigilance blocking her every move, Christina postponed her plans to visit the immigration office and obediently followed him to the club.

The private room buzzed with energy as they entered. Lucien's friends flocked around her.

"Christina, relax today. We know you like quiet, so we changed the music to classical piano and cleared the place for you."

"That's right! Lucien made sure everything suits your taste, even the desserts."

"Come, sit here. We washed and cut the fruits already."

Lucien frowned at their enthusiasm. "Since when did you all become so attentive?"

One of them grinned. "Who doesn't know you treat Christina like treasure? If we don't spoil her too, how can we hang out with you?"

The laughter that followed filled the room with warmth, but it shattered when a petite figure entered.

It was Vanessa.

The manager hurried to block her path. "I'm sorry, miss. We have VIP guests today."

Vanessa brushed him aside and stepped in without hesitation. "Christina, Lucien! What a coincidence! You don't mind if I join, do you?"

Without waiting for permission, she sat beside Christina. Under the dim lights, her fingers deliberately guided Lucien's hand beneath her skirt.

Christina's breath caught. She glanced at Lucien, who froze as if caught off guard. He looked ready to send Vanessa away but, in the next moment, his fingers shifted slightly.

The motion pierced Christina like a blade, yet she kept her face unreadable, pretending not to notice.

Midway through the gathering, she excused herself to the restroom.

Cold water splashed against her face, but it did little to calm the turmoil inside. Then a voice, smooth yet taunting, cut through the air. "Christina, you're so young, but why dress so dull?"

Christina turned, meeting Vanessa's reflection in the mirror. Her eyes shone with disdain.

"Look at me," Vanessa said, opening her coat to reveal daring lingerie. "Men are visual creatures, slaves to their instincts. Let's bet. If I show Lucien this, will he stay with you or leave with me?"

Christina trembled but said nothing. She dried her hands and returned to the private room.

Minutes later, Vanessa followed. Passing Lucien, she tapped his phone lightly. He glanced at the screen, and though it showed only one short message, his Adam's apple bobbed.

Slipping the phone back into his pocket, he stood abruptly. "Christina, I need to make a call. Wait here. I'll be back soon."

Before Christina could respond, he walked out. Moments later, Vanessa trailed after him.

The ache in Christina's chest grew unbearable, twisting into something sharp and cold. But her expression remained smooth.

She vowed silently: If Lucien thought he could betray her without consequence, she would drag him into an abyss even darker than the one he'd cast her into.

Night fell, yet Lucien never returned.

The atmosphere grew uneasy, and one of the friends finally spoke. "Let's take Christina home. Lucien might be tied up with something urgent."

Urgent? Christina nearly laughed. What could be more urgent than Vanessa?

She said nothing and quietly left.

On the way out, she realized she'd forgotten her bag and returned to the private room.

Voices floated through the door.

"She's finally gone. Any longer, and I would've cracked. How does Lucien keep up the act with her?"

Christina's feet felt nailed to the ground.

The voices inside continued without pause.

"Is Lucien and Vanessa still not done? It's been, what, five hours already?"

"Why rush? Lucien's a beast, and Vanessa's irresistible. They won't stop until they're completely spent."

"But doing it right next door? That's a bit much. I even heard moaning earlier. Good thing I turned up the music just in time, or his wife might've caught on. You have no idea how tense I was."

"What's there to be tense about? You'll get used to it after a few times. Lucien finally found someone who caught his eye. At least he's not glued to his wife anymore. As his bros, we've got to cover for him and let him enjoy some wildflowers. Haha!"

"Sure, his wife's pretty, but she's way too uptight. Probably a dead fish in bed. Men want excitement, you know?"

Christina couldn't make out the rest.

A buzzing filled her ears as she stumbled out. Her world spun.

So everyone knew. Everyone. And they'd all kept it from her.

These so-called friends, all smiles to her face, had been shielding Lucien while mocking her behind her back.

It felt as if an invisible hand had reached into her chest and ripped her heart apart. Pain radiated through every nerve in her body.

Outside, the rain poured down, but she didn't feel it. Like a hollow shell, she walked on.

Alone, she went to the immigration office, drenched and disheveled, and signed the papers.

Alone, she returned home and locked herself in her room.

From that day, a fever overtook her.

Lucien found her the next afternoon, burning up and barely conscious.

Panic gripped him as he rushed her to the hospital.

Thankfully, it was just the flu. After a full day and night on an IV drip, she woke up.

But Lucien was shaken. He rented out the entire building and stopped going to work, staying by her side every moment.

Until one day, his assistant entered, insisting an important client demanded to see him.

Lucien frowned, ready to refuse, but the assistant whispered something in his ear.

His expression shifted. Reluctantly, he released Christina's hand. "Christina, I…"

She cut him off, her voice calm. "Go."

Her composure unsettled him. Something in his chest tightened.

He noticed her distant demeanor but brushed it off. She had just been ill. He was overthinking it.

He left instructions for the nurse to take care of her and promised to return soon.

Three days passed, but Lucien didn't come back.

Instead, Christina's phone rang.

Vanessa's voice dripped with triumph. "Christina, guess what? I'm pregnant. I'm going to be a mom. And the father is your husband.

"He's been taking care of me non-stop these past few days. He carries me everywhere, even feeds me himself. Oh, and the doctor said it's safe to make out at three months. He was so excited, he couldn't stop. We tried dozens of positions that night. I was exhausted, but it felt amazing. I loved it.

"Oops, I might've said too much. You're not mad, are you? Don't blame Lucien. After all, his baby is more important than your fever, right?"

Vanessa's words were venomous, meant to shatter her.

But maybe Christina had already gone numb. Not a single tear fell.

She didn't speak. Didn't ask.

Quietly, she pressed the record button, thinking, 'Lucien, I can't wait for you to hear this.'