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?"