Three years ago, Samantha Jade and her parents were trapped in a raging fire. She watched with her own eyes as the flames devoured her mother and father.

At the critical moment, it was Connor Parker who charged in and saved her.

She fell hopelessly in love with him. For the following three years, she drowned in the tenderness he wove so carefully around her.

But later, Samantha discovered the truth: that fire three years ago—Connor had set it.

He had approached her on purpose, loved her on purpose, all to avenge his first love.

Every bit of love, every gentle word, every beautiful moment between them—none of it was real. It had all been a lie.

Since he hated her that much, Samantha decided to play along. Amid Connor's revenge, she faked her death.

But when he saw the charred body—believing it was hers—Connor lost his mind.

In the bathroom of the most luxurious hotel suite in Reystein City, Samantha Jade was pinned down in the bathtub by Connor Parker. His movements were wild and unrestrained.

Before her stretched a massive floor-to-ceiling window. The lights of half the city flickered and shifted in her field of vision.

Gripping her throat with unsettling excitement, Connor teased her, "Turns you on, doesn't this?"

When it was finally over, Samantha soaked in the bathwater, drained. She shut her eyes for just a moment.

When she woke, the bathroom was empty.

The door had been locked from the outside.

She banged on it with all her strength, but there wasn't a single sound from beyond.

"Connor! Are you there? The door's broken—I can't open it! Connor!"

Her voice rang out, sharp and panicked, but he was nowhere to be found.

Ever since the fire three years ago, she'd been left with deep psychological scars.

Claustrophobia had taken root. The moment she was trapped in a closed space, the fear became unbearable. Her whole body would begin to tremble.

She cried for help again and again, but no one came.

Her breathing grew rapid, and the sensation of suffocation tightened around her, invisible but real—as if unseen hands were closing in around her throat.

Her mind flooded with the image of her parents burning to death.

Just before she lost consciousness, there was movement outside.

Connor had returned with a locksmith.

"Samantha, the door's broken. Hold on, the locksmith's opening it now."

The moment the door swung open, she collapsed into his arms.

"Samantha, I'm sorry. This is all my fault. I should've stayed with you," he whispered, holding her close, his eyes full of what looked like regret.

She rested for a while, and Connor went to the next suite to play cards with his friends.

Though she tried to calm herself, the fear and unease still gripped her tightly. Forcing herself up despite the lingering discomfort, she thought of bringing them some late-night snacks.

But as she approached the door to the neighboring suite, she found it slightly ajar. Voices drifted out, impossible to ignore.

"Connor, if you ask me, you should've waited longer before going in. Let her symptoms get worse. You're too easy on her."

"Hahaha, that idiot probably still thinks Connor is her savior. She has no idea he doesn't love her at all. The whole three-year relationship? Just revenge."

"Exactly. Remember when Connor secretly swapped her thesis? That's why the school canceled her diploma. He just said a few sweet words, and she thought her life had hope again."

"And the ashes of her parents—she thought someone stole them and threw them away. Connor went with her to file a police report, and she cried like he was her only support. But it was him. He did it."

"Oh, and when she was working late at the company and a colleague was seriously injured—she got arrested and was scheduled to be locked up in jail for a month. Connor pulled some strings to get her out, and she nearly married him on the spot. She doesn't know he set up the entire scene!"

"…"

Samantha's heart slammed against her chest. Her throat tasted bitter, her palms damp with sweat. Her mind blanked.

She leaned on the wall, struggling just to stay upright. One by one, the events of the past years replayed in her head. Every piece slid into place.

So Connor never loved her.

So everything she'd suffered—every misfortune, every loss—he had orchestrated.

And she hadn't seen any of it coming.

"Well, she's only got herself to blame. She's the one who pushed Cathy off the building back then. There was no proof, so the cops couldn't do anything. But we got our revenge and made her watch her parents die in that fire. Couldn't even keep their ashes. Hahaha. Too bad for Connor though, had to grit his teeth through it all."

In the center of the group, Connor sat with a glass of liquor in hand, his gaze cold and unreadable. He said nothing.

He was nothing like the man who'd once spoken so many soft words to her.

Samantha felt bile rising in her throat. Clutching her stomach, she turned and rushed back to her room. Her nerves still raced out of control, sparking like live wires under her skin.

Her phone rang.

It was her uncle, who had only recently reconnected with her.

"Samantha, have you thought about what I mentioned last time? Our family business is still—"

She parted her lips, forcing back the pain tearing at her heart. "I'll come back. But I need your help with something. I want to fake my death. I need you to prepare a body and a new identity for me."

There was a pause on the other end. He didn't ask why.

"Alright," he said.

Drunk and reeking of alcohol, Connor stumbled back into the room. The moment he climbed into bed, he pulled her into his arms, wrapping himself around her from behind, his hand fitting snugly around her narrow waist.

In a low, raspy voice, he murmured her name. "Samantha... Samantha, I missed you so much."

His words and his touch were thick with tenderness, so convincing that Samantha found herself hesitating.

Her back stiffened slightly. She placed her hand over his, inhaling deeply before testing him. "Connor, do you really love me?"

His chin nuzzled into her hair like a kitten seeking warmth. Without a pause, he said, "I love you. I love you so much. Samantha, let's never be apart. Ever."

Her eyes were blank, unfocused. She gently guided his hand to her chest, right over her heart.

After a long silence, she echoed, "Alright. Let's never be apart."

If Connor was willing to throw himself into this cruel game of revenge, then she was just as willing to offer up her entire life in return.

Later, his breathing evened out. He'd fallen asleep.

Samantha sat up suddenly, reached for his phone, and tried unlocking it with her birthday. Wrong password.

Her lips curled into a bitter smile. Then she entered Cathy Simone's birthday.

The screen lit up.

The shame of her own blindness hit her hard—how easily she'd trusted him, how oblivious she'd been to the deceit that had wrapped itself around her life like a noose.

She opened WhatsApp, scrolled through his group chats, and clicked into one with his friends.

[Connor, it's almost Cathy's death anniversary. Let's do something big that day, really give Samantha a lesson she won't forget. Consider it a tribute to Cathy.]

[Yeah. I've got an idea—let her relive that nightmare from three years ago. But we'll make it worse. When the fire starts, you swoop in and 'save' her again. She'll be even more obsessed with you. Then when she's madly in love, just dump her.]

There was a long pause before Connor replied: [Alright. But don't take it too far. Safety first.]

His friends replied:

[Connor, you're still too nice to her. Have you forgotten? If it weren't for her, Cathy wouldn't be dead.]

[You're not actually falling for her, are you?]

His reply came instantly. [As if. She killed Cathy. I could never love her. Not in this lifetime.]

Samantha stared at that message. She could almost picture the look on his face as he typed it—eyes cold, jaw tight.

He must hate her. Hate her so much he could barely stand it.

And yet, for years, he'd played the role of the doting lover. How much pain must he have endured, pretending every day?

Her chest felt hollow. But her thoughts were already settling into clarity.

On Cathy's death anniversary—one month from now—she would "die". Right in front of him.

She'd give him what he wanted: release.

But she also had a parting gift for him.

She was going to uncover the truth behind Cathy's death.

Because that death had always been strange. And she had nothing to do with it.

The day it happened, they had been practicing dance together at the studio. The security cameras confirmed no one else had entered or left the building.

Then out of nowhere, Cathy jumped.

No signs of suicidal thoughts. No reason to end her life. So naturally, everyone pointed fingers at Samantha.

But she was innocent.

Her fingers clenched into fists. She could already imagine the moment Connor found out that Cathy's death had nothing to do with her.

And by then, she would already be gone—destroyed by his revenge.

She couldn't wait to see the look on his face.

The next day, Connor said he wanted to take Samantha out to a bar.

Samantha declined, saying she wasn't feeling well.

But he held her tightly, his voice low and soft against her ear, coaxing. "Come on, baby. After what happened at the hotel, everyone's still worried about you. Just come out, relax a little, yeah?"

Samantha stared straight into his eyes. She couldn't tell what game they were playing this time—or what kind of revenge they were planning now.

After a pause, she forced a smile. "Sure. Let's go."

At the bar, people kept coming over to toast her. Samantha accepted every glass without hesitation.

Seeing her drink so freely, everyone around her smiled in satisfaction.

"Samantha, a toast to you." Hannah Simone walked up to her, grinning, a drink in hand.

Hannah was Cathy's twin sister. They looked nearly identical. For years, she'd been by Connor's side.

Back then, Samantha had simply thought of her as a friend. But after learning the truth about Connor and his revenge, Samantha couldn't help but look at Hannah differently now.

"Alright." Samantha tipped the glass back and downed it in one go.

Suddenly, Hannah stumbled slightly, and the glass in her hand tipped forward. The drink spilled down the front of Samantha's clothes.

"Oh no! Are you okay?" Hannah asked, feigning concern.

"I'm fine." Samantha's cheeks were slightly flushed, and she rubbed her temple as if she were tipsy.

"Samantha, your clothes are soaked. You'll catch a cold like this. I'll take you upstairs to change, alright?"

Samantha glanced at Connor. He gave a small nod. "It's fine. Go ahead."

So she got up, staggering a little as Hannah helped her walk.

There were clean, private rooms upstairs in the bar. Hannah led her into one of them and said gently, "Take off your clothes first. I'll go grab something clean for you. Just wait here, okay? Don't wander."

"Mhm. Got it."

As soon as the door clicked shut behind her, the hazy look in Samantha's eyes disappeared. Her gaze turned sharp.

She had taken hangover medicine in advance. The drinks they'd poured into her earlier had no effect at all.

She was playing along, just to see what they were really planning.

She pulled out her phone. Earlier, she had slipped a bug inside Connor's jacket.

Now, with a single tap, the voices of Connor and his friends came through clearly into her ear.

"Don't worry, Connor. Everything's ready. The intel's solid. Matt Wilson is coming here tonight to talk business. That room upstairs is prepped for him."

"Everyone knows Matt isn't into women. So many people tried to cozy up to him, even sent girls to his bed—he beat them half to death."

"Anyway, Samantha's not getting out of this tonight. And tomorrow morning, you'll rush in looking all panicked and worried. Show up right when she's barely hanging on. She'll love you even more after that."

Connor didn't say a word. His head hung low, face unreadable.

"But… what if he actually does something to her?" he finally asked, hesitant, after a long silence.

Just then, Hannah came back. She rested her hand on his shoulder, her voice sweet and playful. "Connor, are you actually worried about her? Everyone knows Matt's a weirdo. No matter how hot a girl is, even if she's on his bed in her birthday suit, he won't even look at her. And besides, Samantha killed Cathy. If Matt decides to take Samantha tonight, she should be thanking her lucky stars."