The night before my wedding, I was falsely accused of pulling out Justin’s grandmother’s oxygen tube.

He knew I was innocent, yet not a single word of defense came from his lips.

Instead, he threatened me with prison if I didn’t sign a contract agreeing to work as a servant in the Harlow Family for one hundred days.

When the hopelessness became unbearable and I was ready to end it all with a bottle of sleeping pills in my hand, he finally told me that his childhood sweetheart had been diagnosed with a terminal illness overseas. Less than three months to live.

I stood there silently as he ended his call with the doctor.

He wanted to stage a performance and I decided to play along.

The wedding went on as planned. The two of them embraced and kissed deeply under the cheers of the guests.

Three months later, I vanished, leaving behind a diagnosis of terminal cancer.

He wept bitterly.

"Tell me you were lying to me…"

——

In the hospital, Justin Harlow clutched his grandmother’s death certificate, his eyes bloodshot.

"Don’t give me excuses. Grandma was under your care, so when something happened, you’re the one responsible."

"Starlene, cancel our wedding and tell all your relatives immediately."

"Replace the bride with Rhea. And sign this contract as an apology."

Just three sentences. That was all it took to shatter me.

I leaned against the cold wall, my vision blurring with unshed tears.

"What if I refuse?"

"The hospital corridors have surveillance cameras. You know I didn’t do it."

I couldn’t hold it in. I screamed at him, but his anger only burned hotter.

"Who would believe you? The surveillance footage has already been deleted. What you say now means nothing."

"Sign the contract or go to jail. Your choice."

I glanced past him toward the surveillance room he had just exited.

"Fine. I’ll sign."

My pride was stubborn and my dignity refused to kneel.

To be forced to serve him and his childhood sweetheart like a slave? To suffer false imprisonment? I would rather die.

Before leaving the hospital, I bought a bottle of sleeping pills.

On his third attempt to reach me, Justin kicked open my door and stormed in.

"What the hell are you trying to do?"

"I just asked you to take care of Rhea for three months. Must you make this so difficult?"

The bottle of sleeping pills shattered on the floor, its contents scattered everywhere.

Behind me, Rhea Winslet ran out crying in a nightgown.

Justin held back his fury and then threw a diagnosis report at me.

"Rhea was diagnosed with a terminal illness abroad. She has less than three months left. I don’t trust anyone else to care for her except you."

"I promise, just three months. After one hundred days, you’ll still be the only lady of the Harlow Family."

"My only wife, in this lifetime."

He thought I was clueless about Rhea faking her illness.

Well, I didn’t bother to expose her either.

If he wanted a stage to perform, then I would play along until the very end.

Wiping away my unshed tears, I curved my lips into a faint smile.

"All right. I'll do that."

After a sleepless night, dawn broke. Justin finally coaxed Rhea into leaving the hospital and brought her home.

He smiled tenderly at her, speaking with gentle patience.

"This is the maid I personally arranged for you. You’re not used to being back in the country yet, so feel free to ask her for anything you need."

Her eyes lit up with a shy smile.

"Last night… I thought you two…"

"No. I didn’t do anything with Starlene. There’s only you."

"During the six years you were abroad, I remained single. Besides Starlene as a maid, there was no other woman around me. If you don’t believe me, feel free to check my phone anytime."

Then, he handed her his phone.

"The password is still the same as when we were together."

The two of them grew closer, their shoulders brushing, their gazes locking. Rhea’s cheeks flushed pink.

She quickly pressed a gentle kiss to Justin’s lips.

"I didn’t mean it like that. How could I ever not trust you?"

"I’m just worried that if you ever find someone you truly like, my presence will only get in the way…"

Justin smiled, his expression soft and affectionate as he gently rubbed the tip of her nose.

"You’re still such a cutie, even after all these years."

Rhea’s gaze shifted toward me, lingering as though she had something on her mind.

"Since you’re a maid, wouldn’t it be improper for you to stay in a second-floor bedroom?"

"Maids usually live on the first floor, don’t they? So, Starlene, please move your things. I have trouble sleeping and Justin doesn’t want anyone disturbing my rest."

My head snapped up at once.

The bedroom on the second floor was the wedding room I had painstakingly prepared for Justin and me.

I had moved in just two days before the ceremony and yet I hadn’t even slept there once.

Back when the renovations were happening, he had held me at the doorway and spoken so warmly.

"This room will be yours. I’ll connect all the second-floor bedrooms for you. The servants aren’t allowed upstairs, so no one will ever intrude on our private time…"

Before I could say a word, he scooped Rhea into his arms and settled her comfortably on his lap.

"All right, we’ll do as this cutie Rhea says."

"What are you standing there for, Starlene? Go move your stuff."

He didn’t even spare me a glance as he said it.

The two of them kissed passionately, right in front of me.

A sudden wave of nausea rose in my throat, forcing me to turn and run. I vomited until my vision blurred and my head spun.

When I returned, my belongings had already been packed and tossed downstairs.

The maid around sneered at me.

"Starlene, you’re not planning to keep your things, are you? The lady of the house is in a hurry to move in and you’re too slow, so I helped you pack. You know, a maid should act like a maid."

My eyes fell on the shattered crystal ball ornament lying among the scattered belongings.

The little figurines inside—once embracing—were now broken into jagged pieces.

It had been custom-made from a picture of me and Justin. He said it symbolized a love that could never be torn apart.

I dropped to my knees, frantically trying to piece the shards back together.

Blood welled from the cuts on my palms, but I felt nothing.

Rhea came over, covering her mouth in feigned shock.

"Starlene? Was this important to you? I’m so sorry—I didn’t think you had anything valuable, so I told them to clear it away."

"Why don’t I buy you another? How much was it?"

A tear splashed onto my hand as I gave a cold, bitter laugh.

"No need. Once something’s broken, it can never be the same. Even if you replace it, it’s never the same."

Hearing that, Rhea immediately crouched down beside me.

"Let me help you clean it up. Maybe it can still be repaired."

Without thinking, I shoved her hand away.

She staggered backward and fell neatly into Justin’s arms.

Above me, his eyes blazed with anger.

"It’s just a broken glass ornament. Is that worth making such a scene? What if Rhea had been hurt?"

"Rhea, leave it—it’s nothing but a cheap trinket. Just throw it out."

As he carried her away, his foot came down hard on the shards.

Blood seeped from my palm, but the ache in my chest hurt far more.

When I finished moving my luggage into the maid’s room, I passed by the living room. Rhea was leaning into Justin’s chest, the two of them watching a romantic drama together.

Now and then, carefree laughter filled the air—each burst piercing my ears.

"Rhea, don’t you think the female lead looks just like you? Back then, whenever you got jealous, you’d give me the silent treatment until I had to kiss you just to win you back."

"No way, I wasn’t that unreasonable!"

"Oh really? If she looks like me, then I’d say the male lead looks like you, too. I chased you far more relentlessly than that. Remember the fireworks outside the girls’ dorm? Three nights in a row, nonstop. The only one who didn’t see them was the principal. He was away on a business trip."

"Come on, tell me the truth. How much did you pay my roommates to keep an eye on me? You even knew the exact moments I spoke to any male classmates."

Justin smiled as he playfully tickled her, his expression open and relaxed in a way I had never seen before.

Before this, I had always believed that Justin Harlow was simply a man indifferent by nature—someone who neither understood love nor knew how to cherish a woman.

But now I realized I was wrong.

It was not that he couldn’t understand. It was just that he never wanted to understand me.

That was why pretending to be ignorant was simply the easiest, cheapest way for him.

As the last box of my luggage was carried away, Justin’s voice rang out, impatient and commanding.

"What are you still standing there for? Have someone clean the room right away. Rhea and I will be staying here tonight."

"Oh and she doesn’t like the pink decorations on the wall. Take them all down."

"Throw away the red ones, too and replace them with light blue."

Everything he dismissed so casually had been the result of my painstaking choices—made over countless sleepless nights—just a month before our wedding.

Black, white and gray had always felt too cold to me, yet he disliked vibrant colors.

So I had compromised, balancing between warmth and restraint, personally visiting store after store, comparing countless options to find the perfect pieces.

And now, all of it was headed straight for the trash.

A bitterness so heavy filled my chest that even breathing felt like scraping against my ribs.

I collapsed onto the bed, utterly drained. Even during that month I spent caring for his grandmother, I hadn’t felt this bone-deep exhaustion.

In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to close my eyes forever—not to see, not to hear, not to feel.

But reality never granted such luxuries.

At six in the afternoon, there was a sudden, urgent pounding on my door.

"I’ve sent you the list of Rhea’s dietary restrictions. Check your phone and make sure you don’t miss a single detail."

Upstairs, the other maids were busy setting up Rhea’s room.

Meanwhile, I stood alone in the kitchen, preparing dishes from eighteen different regions.

I had collected these recipes long ago.

Back then, my only thought was that Justin worked so tirelessly and his sole comfort should be coming home to a warm meal.

I wanted him to relax, to feel cared for through delicious food.

But before I could ever make that happen, everything had already changed.

Laughter floated in from the living room. The two of them sat shoulder to shoulder, a tablet in hand, browsing wedding supplies.

"This decoration is awful! Justin, when did your taste get so tacky?"

"I don’t want a dull, conventional wedding. I want something unique and modern. And the gown… the whiter, the better. Just like our relationship."

"Why did you have a plan ready so early? Were you planning to marry someone else before I came back?"

The dull, conventional wedding she scoffed at was actually the very plan I had spent half a year perfecting.

Justin’s smile faltered for just a moment and his eyes flicked instinctively toward the kitchen.

Then he touched his nose as he laughed lightly.

"How could that be? If you never came back, I’d spend the rest of my life waiting for my bride."

"Even if I reach seventy or eighty—until I’m buried—the only one by my side would still be you."

"Heh, you’re just trying to sweet-talk me."

He chuckled low in his throat.

"I can sweet-talk you in other ways, too. Want me to prove it right now?"

"Stop it, or I’ll get mad! Don’t kiss my neck—we’ve got a wedding photoshoot tomorrow."

"All right, all right. Then I’ll only kiss the places your wedding dress will cover. How about that?"

It felt as though invisible hands had gripped my heart, crushing it, then tearing it apart.

All I could hear after that were their footsteps, fading into the distance.

Eighteen dishes stood ready on the dining table, but the two of them remained in the bedroom.

The servants and I waited in silence all night.

By dawn, exhaustion overcame me and I dozed off—only to be jolted awake by the shrill ring of a phone.

"What kind of photographer is this? I look terrible! Justin, does my face really look that big?"

"Find someone else. Leave them a bad review!"

His tone was indulgent, almost amused.

"All right, as you wish."

Then, switching to another call, his voice instantly turned cool.

"Starlene, head to the beach. I’ll give you one hour."

"Bring your cameras and everything you need."