I took the first-aid kit and dipped a cotton swab in iodine, carefully treating the back of his hand where the broken glass had cut him.

That had been Emma's doing—when she'd "accidentally" shattered the cup.

"Does it hurt?" I asked.

"No." He caught my hand. "Don't feel sad for me."

I didn't answer, just kept my head down and continued applying the medicine.

"That jade bangle your parents gave Emma—it was Grandma's. Meant for you."

"Mm."

"On your eighteenth birthday, Grandma put it on your wrist herself. Said she wanted you to have it as part of your dowry when you married."

"Mm."

"Then your mom said it was too valuable, that she was afraid you'd lose it. She'd hold onto it for safekeeping."

"Mm."

I'd only ever talked about this once, rambling when I was drunk.

And he'd remembered every word.

My nose stung. Tears pricked at my eyes.

I blinked hard, forcing them back.

"It's just a bangle. If she wants it, let her have it."

"Eva."

Nolan said my name softly, his fingers brushing my cheek.

"You don't have to keep doing this to yourself."

"I'm not."

My voice came out steadier than I felt.

He didn't push. Instead, he pulled a small box from his pocket.

Inside was a delicate diamond brooch—a brand I'd always loved but could never justify buying.

I stared at him, stunned.

"How did you—"

He lifted the brooch and pinned it to my chest.

"Walked past the shop. Thought it suited you."

"But this is so expensive."

"I earned the money myself."

His eyes held mine, serious.

"Eva, believe me. Everything they've taken from you—I'll get it back double. Every bit of pain they've caused—I'll make them pay it back a hundredfold."

My phone rang.

Joanna.

I put it on speaker.

Her voice exploded through the line.

"Eva! Where the hell have you been! Get your ass back here now!"

"What is it?"

"What is it? Your sister's engagement invitations need to go out, and the address listed is your place! Clear your crap out of that room! Emma's moving in! Did you hear me!"

That room—my room—was the bridal suite I'd decorated with my own hands.

Our double-happiness characters were still on the wall. Mine and Nolan's names.

"That home is mine."

"Yours? What in that house is yours! I'm telling you, Eva—if your stuff isn't out by tomorrow, I'll have someone throw all your junk in the street!"

She hung up.

I gripped my phone, my whole body going cold.

Nolan came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist.

He didn't say anything. Just rested his chin on top of my head.

The next day, I went to work.

Joanna followed through. That afternoon, the housekeeper sent me a photo.

Everything from my room—my design drafts, saved for years. My award certificates. Every little memento of me and Nolan.

All of it stuffed into black trash bags, piled by the villa entrance like actual garbage.

Madam says you have until today to collect this trash. Otherwise she's calling a garbage truck.

I stared at that photo. It felt like a fist had closed around my heart and was squeezing until I couldn't breathe.

Then Emma texted me.

A video.

In it, she twirled around my emptied room in a gorgeous princess dress. The double-happiness characters I'd cut by hand—torn down. In their place hung an enormous wedding photo of her and Nathaniel.

She smiled brightly at the camera.

"Eva, thank you for giving me your room. The lighting here is so good—I really like it. I looked through your stuff. Nothing valuable, so no loss tossing it out. Oh, and those design drafts of yours? So ugly. I helped you get rid of them."

At the end of the video, she threw a stack of drawing paper into the burning fireplace.

The flames leaped up and swallowed my hard work.

I couldn't hold it in anymore and rushed into the bathroom to dry heave.

Nolan followed me and gently patted my back. "You'll feel better if you throw up."

Nothing came up—only sour liquid surging in waves.

After a long time, I finally straightened up and splashed cold water on my face.

In the mirror, my face was frighteningly pale.

"Nolan."

"Yeah?"

"What you said before—does it still count?"

"Which part?"

"Help me. Make them pay it back a thousand times over."

"It will always count."

He answered without a trace of hesitation.

I looked at him and suddenly smiled.

"Okay."

That afternoon, Emma called and said she wanted me to come try on a bridesmaid dress.

"Eva, you have to come. I specially picked the prettiest one for you."

I agreed.

Nolan and I arrived together at the custom bridal shop.

Emma, Nathaniel, and several of her socialite friends were already there.

When they saw Nolan, their faces showed undisguised mockery.

"Emma, this is your poor brother-in-law? He looks okay, but it's a pity he's a freeloader living off a woman."

"Look at that shirt—looks like something from a street stall."

Emma walked over with fake warmth. "Eva, brother-in-law, you're here. Hurry, the bridesmaid dress I picked for you is right here—go try it on."

The clerk brought over a formal dress.

It was a fluorescent green strapless gown with an old-fashioned cut and cheap fabric. The waist was made especially thick, like it was designed for a barrel.

"How is it, Eva? This color really makes your skin look pale."

Emma covered her mouth and laughed.

Her friends burst into loud laughter too.

"Emma, you're too mean. That dress is for the cleaning lady, right?"

"Put that on and stand next to the bride—perfect match!"

I didn't get angry. I calmly took the dress.

"Okay. I'll go try it on."

I walked into the fitting room, and Nolan came in too.

He closed the door, cutting off the mocking laughter outside.

"Don't pay attention to them," he said.

I didn't speak, just took off my coat.

Just then, the fitting room curtain was yanked open.

Nathaniel stood in the doorway. He thought I was alone, and a malicious smile spread across his face.

"Eva, changing clothes alone is so boring. Want me to—"

His words stopped short when he saw Nolan.

Nolan stepped in front of me, his expression going ice-cold.

Nathaniel shuddered under his gaze and instinctively stepped back.

"Misunderstanding, misunderstanding. Didn't know brother-in-law was in here too."

He smiled awkwardly and reached for the curtain.

But Nolan stepped forward and grabbed his wrist.

"What are you trying to do?"

Nathaniel's face went white.

"I... I wasn't trying to do anything. I just came to... to take a look..."

"Look at what?" Nolan's fingers slowly tightened.

Nathaniel's face twisted in pain, cold sweat beading on his forehead.

"Ah! It hurts, it hurts! Let go! My hand's going to break!"

Outside, Emma heard the commotion and rushed over.

"Nathaniel! Nolan! What the hell are you doing? Let go of him!"

Emma clawed at Nolan's grip, but she might as well have been prying at iron.

He didn't even glance at her. His eyes stayed locked on Nathaniel, each word dropping like a stone.

"I'll ask one more time. What were you trying to do just now?"

"I—I was wrong! I was just joking! Brother-in-law, I swear I was just—"

Nathaniel's voice cracked, all his earlier swagger gone. He looked seconds away from dropping to his knees.

The manager and clerks crowded closer, frozen, unsure what to do.

"Let go! You psycho!" Emma's voice hit a pitch that could shatter glass. "Touch him again and I'll make you pay!"

Nolan released him.

Nathaniel snatched his hand back, cradling it against his chest. Dark red fingermarks already ringed his wrist. He stared at Nolan like he was looking at something inhuman, stumbling backward until Emma was between them.

"He's insane! Completely insane!"

Emma wrapped a protective arm around her trembling fiancé and turned her fury on me. "Eva! Look at what kind of man you dragged home! A violent maniac! You owe me an explanation!"

Her friends piled on immediately.

"Exactly! Emma, you should call the police on someone like that!"

"Broke and unhinged—who does he think he is?"

I stepped out of the fitting room.

"Wrap up your most expensive gown."

The words landed like a slap. Everyone went still.

The manager hesitated. "Miss, our most expensive piece is Dream of the Stars. It's not for sale—it's the final work of a French master, valued at—"

"Eight million, eight hundred eighty thousand." I finished for her. "I know. I'm buying it."

Dead silence.

Then Emma burst out laughing, loud and theatrical. "Eva, have you lost your mind? Eight million? You could sell your broke boyfriend and still not scrape together a fraction of that!"

Nathaniel recovered enough to smirk. "Eva, I get that you're jealous, but there's no need to embarrass yourself. This is just sad."

I ignored them both. I reached into my bag, pulled out the black card Nolan had given me ages ago—his "payroll card," he'd called it, told me to spend freely—and handed it to the manager.

I'd never used it. Not once.

The manager's entire demeanor shifted the moment she saw it. Her hand trembled slightly as she accepted it with a small bow.

"Of course, Miss. Right away."

Emma's laughter died. She stared at the card, then at me, her face twisting.

"That's impossible… Eva, where did you steal that?"

Before she could finish, a man in a crisp suit strode through the entrance, heading straight for Nolan. He stopped and bowed deeply.

"Mr. Delgado. Everything you requested is ready."

He handed over a document envelope.

Nolan opened it, pulled out the contents—a stack of photos and a thick file—and flung the photos directly into Nathaniel's face.

They scattered across the floor. Intimate shots. Nathaniel with woman after woman, different backgrounds, different dates. But every single one of them was older than Emma.

And clearly, much wealthier.

Nathaniel's face went gray. "These—these are photoshopped! They're fake!"

"Fake?" Nolan's voice was almost bored. He handed the document to Emma. "This is a record of the assets Mr. Lambert has swindled from six women over the past five years, all under the guise of romance and marriage. Total amount: over thirty million. The fifty thousand your parents gave him? Just his latest deposit."

Emma swayed, barely keeping her feet under her.

With trembling hands, she took the documents. The black-and-white print, along with Nathaniel's signature, stabbed at her eyes.

"No… impossible…"

At the same time, several police officers in uniform walked in and headed straight for Nathaniel.

"We received a report and are currently closing the net on a major serial fraud case. The primary suspect, Nathaniel Lambert—"

I looked at Emma and Nathaniel, both ashen-faced. Then I turned to my parents. At some point, they had rushed here too, all the color drained from their faces.

I showed a brilliant smile.

"Dad, Mom, little sister—do you like this big gift?"