At the family marriage alliance banquet, I casually read the hexagrams for the Gilbert family to ward off disaster, and a single reading saved Old Mr. Gilbert's life.

Jeffrey Gilbert was overjoyed. On the spot, he sealed an additional $1.88 million betrothal gift for me.

He then announced that Gilbert Group would be placed under the management of my fiancé, John Gilbert.

I was to devote myself fully to helping John expand the family empire.

But just as the two families were negotiating the wedding, John's obsession burst into my Convent and smashed the incense altar I'd set up to pray for the Gilberts' fortune.

"You can't win his heart, so you use this superstitious garbage to bewitch him? Let me tell you something—he will never marry a fraud like you."

I gazed calmly at Celeste Pruitt, whose entire body radiated ill fortune and whose belly concealed a staggering deception.

"What you just destroyed was the Gilberts' blessing. Aren't you afraid of bringing ruin on the whole family?"

John Gilbert pulled Celeste into his arms like a show of dominance, smirking at me.

"Ivy Chambers, you spend all day playing fortune teller. Don't tell me you actually think some dusty little convent gives you control over the Gilbert family's billion-dollar empire? The only person you've ever fooled is my grandfather—a relic from another century."

"Celeste is carrying my child now. I won't let a Gilbert heir grow up on the streets. Let's call off the engagement."

I watched the dark cloud of misfortune creep slowly across John's forehead. I stood, brushed off the hem of my skirt, and said one word.

"Fine."

I turned and walked straight to the Rolls-Royce parked around the corner of the villa.

After all, he had been waiting here for three full years.

——

"If you marry me instead, the Gilbert Group's resources and tech teams will be at Chambers Corp's disposal, free of charge. Profit shares split sixty-forty."

"Sixty for you. Forty for me."

Inside the car sat Morton Gilbert, dressed in a dark jacquard suit, every inch of him radiating quiet authority. As he spoke, he slid a share transfer agreement across the leather seat toward me.

"As my personal betrothal gift, I've already transferred twenty percent of the company's shares into your name."

I looked at Morton, unable to hide my surprise.

"Mr. Gilbert, one minute ago I was still your nephew's fiancée. You were that certain I'd break off the engagement and choose you?"

Morton lifted his fingertips and traced them gently along my cheek. For the first time, that eternally glacial face softened into something unmistakably tender.

"Because the Buddha came to me in a dream. We're destined—a bond carried over from a past life."

He paused, as if reconsidering, then added, "Even without divine instruction, your fortune and your character alone would be worth waiting a lifetime for."

I looked at this man whose eyes held nothing but me, and asked one more question.

"Morton Gilbert, all I enjoy is praying and reading divinations. I don't like socializing, and I probably won't be much help with your business. Won't you get tired of that?"

Morton took my hand. His expression grew solemn.

"Ivy, it's you I want. What you choose to do with your time is your freedom. I will never grow tired of it."

"I know that reading fortunes and performing divinations drains your vitality. So I will never ask you to do anything for me—not even to seek wealth or ward off disaster."

In that moment, something unfamiliar stirred inside my chest. I found myself seeing Morton Gilbert in an entirely new light.

Everyone else worshipped me as the Oracle, desperate to pry fortunes and blessings from my lips. He was the only one who had ever considered what it cost me.

I nodded with conviction.

"Morton Gilbert, I accept."

"But let me handle a few things first before we make it public."

That very evening, I went to the Gilbert estate to retrieve my betrothal documents. The moment I stepped through the door, I saw the blessed jade pendant bracelet I'd given John tossed on the floor.

Thrown beside it were my betrothal documents and my personal belongings.

Celeste Pruitt was grinding the pointed heel of her stiletto into the paper bearing my birth date and destiny chart.

"Superstitious little jinx. I'll crush you under my foot and see what kind of trouble you can stir up then."

John Gilbert lounged on the sofa, utterly indifferent.

"That's enough, baby. Don't tire yourself out."

"Why bother picking a fight with some dirty nun? If you don't like it, toss it in the trash."

My whole body trembled. I lunged forward and snatched the bracelet and betrothal documents out of their hands.

Only then did I see it. The beads on the bracelet had been crushed, hairline fractures splitting through the surface.

These were sacred relics, formed from my mentor's own flesh and bone at the moment of her passing. She had left them for me deliberately, with the last of her strength.

"Celeste Pruitt."

I raised my hand and slapped her across the face.

"Why would you destroy this relic? Do you have any idea what it means?"

"It holds everything my mentor poured into this world. It was meant to protect us. To keep us safe."

Before I could say another word, a heavy glass ashtray came flying and cracked against my skull.

"You're disgusting, Ivy. You actually gave me something made from a dead person." John stormed over, ripped the beaded strand from my hand, and ground it under his heel. "Walking around playing fortune teller, trying to con me with a dead woman's bones. 'Blessings.' What a joke."

"Cheap tricks and cold reading, that's all it ever was. And you actually started believing you were some kind of oracle."

I watched the beads shatter. Tears streamed down my face. I crouched on the floor and picked up the fragments one by one, closing my fist around them.

I swallowed the urge to burn everything to the ground. Instead, I lifted my gaze to him, ice-cold.

"John Gilbert. Give me back the betrothal documents. After today, we have nothing to do with each other."

Celeste scooped the documents and my personal belongings off the floor and hurled them straight into my face.

"Here. What is this junk, anyway? Just looking at it gives me the creeps."

I glanced at Celeste. The dark shadow between her brows told me everything I needed to know about her fortune. I had no interest in wasting words on her.

I picked up the documents, turned, and headed for the door.

I'd barely taken a single step when Celeste's mocking voice cut through the room behind me.

"So you'll grab your own things quick enough, but what about the gifts Old Mr. Gilbert and the family gave you? Planning to swallow those whole?"

I stopped. Turned. Looked straight at John with a cold smile and tossed the card onto the coffee table.

I hadn't even made it another step before Celeste's voice slithered out again, darker now.

"Since this is a broken engagement, it should be a clean break. That outfit you're wearing, Miss Chambers... the Gilbert family paid for that too, didn't they? Why don't you take it off and give it back to John."

I stared at Celeste in disbelief, then looked at John. They were doing this on purpose.

Celeste let out a sharp laugh.

"What's the matter? Miss Chambers talks a big game about ending the engagement, but she won't return what isn't hers? Unless, of course, she's planning to use it as an excuse to come back later and sink her claws into John again."

I looked at the smug satisfaction plastered across Celeste's face. I refused to give her the satisfaction of a reaction. I turned to John instead.

"John Gilbert. In the past three years, how many investments did I steer you toward? Every single one of them paid off. Your grandfather started trusting you. You rose through the ranks at Gilbert Corp. Whose doing was that? Don't tell me you've already forgotten."

"Now your little girlfriend wants me to strip naked and walk out over a set of clothes. Is that what you want too?"

John's eyes darted to the side. He cleared his throat, covering the guilt with bluster.

"Ivy, my investments did well because I have good instincts. Don't tell me you think your praying and crystal-ball nonsense had anything to do with it."

"Celeste is right. If we're ending this, let's end it clean."

His gaze traveled slowly down my body and back up again, deliberate and loaded.

"Unless this whole thing is a play. Walk out now, work your way back in later, try to win me over again."

The absurdity of it nearly knocked the wind out of me.

If it hadn't been for my parents' dying wish, if Old Mr. Gilbert hadn't looked after my family's interests all these years, I would never have agreed to this marriage alliance in the first place.

Arrogant. Clueless. And now I could add a third quality to the list: blind.

Whenever he couldn't make a decision on his own, he'd come crawling to me, begging me to consult the spirits, to divine an answer for him. The moment the money rolled in, he was suddenly a self-made genius who needed no one.

Celeste's expression soured instantly. She latched onto John's arm, shaking it.

"John, you know how she thinks. Don't fall for her tricks."

"She's an orphan with no parents, no family. Without the Gilberts propping her up, the Chambers estate would've gone bankrupt years ago. She's only ever been after your money."

John nodded in agreement, and when his gaze swung back to me, it was filled with fresh contempt.

"Ivy Chambers. You walk around playing the Oracle, all purity and restraint, and for what? To build yourself some holier-than-thou image?"

"Thank God Celeste is smart enough to see right through you."

"Since you're so eager to break off this engagement, take off the clothes I bought you and get out of my house. We're done. Permanently."

I stood rooted to the spot, utterly still. The only thing I felt was how absurd it all was.

When I made no move to undress, John's expression darkened. He flicked his hand toward the servants.

"Do it. Strip her."

They swarmed me, tearing at my clothes with rough, careless hands.

Within moments I was left standing in nothing but my underwear. They'd even ripped off my socks.

Every servant in the room looked at me with open disdain, their whispers barbed and mocking. A few of the male servants let their eyes crawl over my body, leering without shame.

"Calls herself the Oracle every day. Claims she can see the future. Too bad she didn't see this coming—Mr. Gilbert cutting her loose."

"Well, obviously. Now that he's got someone like Miss Pruitt—gorgeous, classy—who'd want some plain little nun?"

At a single command from Celeste, several servants seized me by the arms and shoved me toward the door, pushing and dragging until I was thrown out of the villa entirely.

A swarm of reporters materialized from nowhere. Camera flashes exploded in my face, one after another, blinding and relentless.

"Miss Chambers, we heard you initiated the breakup yourself. Is this a strategic retreat? Are you trying to force Mr. Gilbert's hand?"

"Miss Chambers, appearing like this in front of the cameras—are you hoping to win his sympathy and save the marriage?"

They closed in around me, shouting questions without pause.

The ground beneath my bare feet was covered in jagged gravel. Every stumbling step sent sharp pain shooting through my soles.

A microphone jabbed into my mouth. I staggered backward, lost my balance, and crashed to the ground. Something sharp pierced into my skin on impact, and a violent shudder ripped through my entire body.

Only when I looked down did I see the faint glitter scattered across the gravel path. Someone had deliberately crushed glass and spread it over the stones.

I pressed my palms flat against the ground and forced myself upright. Blood dotted my arms, my legs, my torso—small bright stains blooming everywhere.

All of it. Every last detail. Celeste had orchestrated this.

The reporters jostled against me. The humiliation of being nearly naked, the glass biting into my feet—every nerve in my body screamed.

Just as I was about to shatter, a black Rolls-Royce tore through the night like a blade of wind and stopped dead in front of me.

Morton stepped out in long, furious strides. His voice cracked across the silent darkness like a whip.

"You have some nerve. Who gave you permission to treat my wife this way?"

His eyes were pure ice. The reporters scrambled backward instantly, shrinking into themselves, tripping over their own feet.

"Mr. Gilbert, this is a misunderstanding—a total misunderstanding. We just happened to see Miss Chambers out here, and she was already—"

"Mr. Gilbert, we're so sorry. We'll leave right now. We won't bother you."

Morton ripped his suit jacket off and draped it over my shoulders, then pulled me tight against his chest.

John must have heard the commotion, because he came striding out of the villa. The moment he saw Morton holding me, his face twisted.

"Uncle Morton! Ivy is my fiancée. What the hell do you think you're doing?"

I drew a long, steadying breath. Let the chaos inside me go quiet. Then I straightened my spine, wrapped my arm around Morton's waist, and stood tall.

My voice came out cold enough to freeze.

"John. Unless your memory is as broken as your judgment, you should remember—I already ended our engagement. My fiancé now is your uncle."