For the third time, Aiden Cross walked his fiancée into my pre-wedding counseling office.

The girl was blushing furiously, and she leaned in to whisper, "Angela Knight, my fiancé treats me so well. What do I even do about it?"

I let two seconds pass. "So what is it, exactly, that you two want me to help you with?"

Aiden lounged in his chair, and at that he let out a low laugh.

"Nothing much. Just want to learn how to spoil a little princess properly."

He finished and tilted his head toward the girl beside him, his tone all wickedness and indulgence. "Last time I didn't take you to see the ocean, you cried like I'd dropped dead."

"This time I'll buy out every firework on South Isle. Is that apology enough?"

The girl's ears flushed scarlet in an instant.

I kept my head down, flipping through the counseling notes, bitterness spreading through my chest.

Because once, Aiden had spoiled me exactly the same way.

We'd gone from seventeen to twenty-four together.

But the day before our wedding, Aiden died.

I tried to follow him in death seventeen times and failed, and in the end I was forced to marry someone else.

And now that ex-boyfriend, dead for three years, sat in front of me with his arm around the scholarship girl I had funded and watched grow up with my own hands.

Aiden lowered his eyes, leafing through the file on my desk, and suddenly he smiled.

"And here I thought."

"That the wealthy family you scrambled so desperately to marry into, less than three years after your ex-boyfriend died," he raised his gaze, slow and deliberate, "would at least give you a glamorous life."

——

The day before our wedding, Aiden's plane went down. No word, nothing.

To find him, I rushed through the night to the crash site.

I dug through the wreckage and never found a trace of him, my ten fingers torn to raw flesh, never able to hold a pen the same way again.

And now the scholarship girl I had funded and watched grow up had become the one who saved his life.

The last voice message he sent me was only "I love you," and then a violent explosion drowned it out.

Ever since, the sound of an explosion left me with severe post-traumatic stress.

Aiden rapped twice on the desk, jerking me back to the present.

He pushed his still-lit phone across to me.

A lurid headline paired with an attention-grabbing photo.

Classic tabloid gossip.

Except, under the neon glow, the man with his arm around the scantily dressed beauty was none other than my wealthy husband, Dylan Delgado.

Aiden leaned lazily against the back of his chair. "Mr. Delgado is truly blessed beyond words, marrying a traditional wife like you. Even in this day and age, he gets to enjoy the pleasures of a whole harem."

Calmly, I darkened the screen and gathered the files on my desk.

"Mr. Cross, this has nothing to do with today's session. If there's nothing else, the two of you are free to go."

Aiden arched a brow, amused, and leaned his upper body over the desk, closing in.

"Of course it has something to do with it."

"As a counselor, when your own marriage has rotted into this, what right do you have to counsel anyone else?"

"I have reasonable doubts about your competence now," he straightened up, smoothing his cuff. "I'll file a complaint with your supervisor. You'd better start packing up your things."

I clenched my fingertips, sinking back into the same helplessness as all those years ago.

I needed money. A great deal of money, to save a life.

One phone call from Aiden, and my supervisor was leading me down to stand before him and bow in apology.

Aiden settled back against the sofa, his eyes full of contempt.

"In that case, I'll grudgingly give you one more chance. Let's see your skills. Go on, win my fiancée over."

In silence, I took a tablet from the drawer, full of the wedding templates I'd once saved.

Back then Aiden would wrap his arms around me from behind, laughing that he'd throw me a hundred weddings.

That he'd let me experience every kind I loved.

But now the wedding was ready, and the bride was no longer me.

I held up the tablet and crouched beside Tracey Henson.

And one by one, I offered up the wedding gowns I had once imagined on my own body, for her to pick from.

My back ached and my knees throbbed, but I never let it show on my face.

Aiden Cross's expression shifted slightly as he read whatever was on the tablet.

Then his hand came up, a flicker of disgust crossing his eyes.

“Give me the tablet, and go sit in the corner, away from me. My fiancée doesn't like the smell of another woman's perfume on me.”

I said nothing. I only handed him the tablet in silence.

Aiden pulled Tracey Henson into his arms and waited, turning each page once she'd finished it.

When she let out a delighted little gasp, he pressed an indulgent kiss to her temple.

Then he turned and fixed his gaze on me, his eyes dark.

“I'll give you this—you're not entirely useless.” He paused, his tone shifting. “So go on, teach her. When your own husband sleeps with another woman, how do you manage to be as forgiving and generous as you?”

“My fiancée's been spoiled by me, after all. Normally I keep at least three feet between myself and any other woman, let alone holding one in each arm.”

Tracey flushed and gave his chest a soft little punch.

I lowered my eyes, my voice dry.

“The way I see it, your fiancée doesn't need to learn any of this. A good man like you would never let the woman he loves suffer.”

After a long moment, Aiden suddenly laughed and turned to my supervisor.

“Your staff are really something. She thinks she can play her little games with me.”

At that, my supervisor yanked me over by the arm.

“Mr. Cross, I'm so sorry. She's new and doesn't know any better. I'll have her apologize to you right now.”

Aiden lifted his eyes lazily and looked straight at me.

“No need for apologies. I just want her to serve as my fiancée's private pre-wedding counselor for two months. Otherwise, I have plenty of ways to make sure you never earn a single cent in this place.”

For my supervisor's sake, I agreed to be Tracey's private pre-wedding counselor.

When I showed up the next day, Aiden didn't look the least bit surprised.

He helped a fully dressed-up Tracey into the car, his arm around her.

I hesitated, then climbed into the back seat.

The black luxury sedan was decorated with plush trinkets everywhere.

Even the floor mats were a limited-edition Disney collaboration.

Aiden steered one-handed, an indulgent curve to his lips.

“Young girls love this stuff. She bought a whole pile of it and had nowhere to put it, so it ended up in the car.”

Once, we'd lived in a cramped little rental.

Aiden knew I loved cute things, so the moment he earned any money, the first thing he'd do was buy me all kinds of stuffed toys.

He'd stuffed every corner of our home full of them.

We were poor back then, but at least it was warm.

Now he'd become the industry's rising star, and all his money and love went to someone else.

It was only when we got out of the car that I realized where we were going today: an auction.

Inside the private box.

Aiden lounged against the sofa and handed the paddle to Tracey.

“Buy whatever you like. I'll cover it.”

The first lot was nothing remarkable—just an ordinary silver necklace.

But my breath caught.

It was the gift Aiden had once designed and crafted for me with his own hands.

In those early days of his startup, when he barely dared to sleep, he'd still carve out time every day to prepare little surprises for me.

His fingers would split open at night, and the next day he'd go right back to writing code.

It wasn't until I saw the bloodstains on the keyboard that I understood just how hard he was driving himself.

Back then, his tears had fallen into the curve of my neck. “It's all because I'm useless. I swear I'll give you a good life one day.”

That silver necklace had been with me through my entire youth—and then I'd lost it in that accident.

The auctioneer called the price. “Starting bid, seventy thousand.”

Tracey raised her paddle, deliberating a few times before she spoke. “One hundred thousand.”

Aiden ruffled her hair, doting. “Keep raising the bid like that and people will think I've gone bankrupt.”

He closed his hand around Tracey's wrist and lifted the paddle again.

“Ten million.”

Everyone in the room knew the piece belonged to Aiden.

So the price climbed, higher and higher.

“Thirty million.”

“Fifty million.”

“Seventy million.”

After enough rounds, Aiden lost his patience and simply named a number that buried them all.

The whole room fell silent in an instant.

In the end, Aiden took the silver necklace for ninety million dollars.

The director carried the lot to the private box himself.

He had just lifted his hands to draw out the silver necklace when Aiden cut him off.

Aiden turned to look at me, something playful in his eyes.

“You go get it. Put it on Tracey.”

I pulled on a pair of gloves and, in silence, fastened the silver clasp at the back of Tracey's neck.

Aiden watched, the corner of his mouth curving into something sickly.

“Our Tracey always did have an eye for these things. The necklace suits you.”

After the auction ended, fat drops of rain slammed against the car windows.

Aiden floored the gas, and the car tore down the road.

“The Delgados aren't short on pocket change. So why do you still look like some broke little nobody?”

I sat in the back seat, my face flat. “Because I don't want to taint what Dylan Delgado and I have with money.”

The next second, Aiden braked hard at the side of the road. “Get out.”

A thunderstorm. On the overpass.

In the rearview mirror, I met the raw violence in Aiden's eyes.

“Get out. Don't make me say it a third time.”

I stepped out quietly. No explanation. There was no point in one.

In the end I couldn't remember how long I'd walked in the rain.

When I opened my eyes again, I was in a hospital room.

Then Aiden's call came through, and I answered, weak.

“It's working hours right now. Where are you?”

“Out all night, and now your employer has to chase you down after the workday's already started. Looks to me like you don't want this job anymore.”

I was about to pull the IV needle from my hand when the doctor stopped me.

“What are you doing?! Stop treating your own body like it's nothing. Whatever it is, can't it wait until the drip's finished?”

I hung up fast, but Aiden had still caught the doctor's voice.

A second later, a message popped up on my phone.

“You have half an hour to appear in front of me, or I'll have you blacklisted across the whole industry.”

After the nurse pulled the needle, I rushed straight to Aiden's place without stopping for a breath and let myself in with the passcode he'd given me.

——It was Tracey's birthday.

I was standing in the entryway when I heard the sounds drifting out of the bedroom.

Tracey's voice came in broken pieces, begging. “Someone's come in.”

Aiden soothed her gently, his voice rough. “What's there to be afraid of.”

I sat rigid and upright on the living room couch, nausea churning up through my stomach.

By the time the two of them came downstairs, two hours had passed, and the marks of what they'd been doing were all over them.

When she saw me sitting on the couch, Tracey jumped.

“Angela, why are you still here?”

Aiden steadied her just in time, a hint of something improper in his smile.

“So cute. Like a startled little hamster.”

The girl's ears flushed scarlet in an instant.

When he turned back to me, Aiden had slipped back into his usual carelessness.

“You scared my fiancée. Apologize. Now.”

When I said nothing, a thread of threat crept into his tone.

“Isn't your job to keep my fiancée happy? Or is it that you don't want this job anymore?”

At that, I finally spoke, numbly going along with it.

“I'm sorry. Showing up so suddenly and frightening you was my fault.”

“To make it up to you, may I borrow your kitchen and make you a dessert?”