Skye walked out of the hotel without a second glance. Trace Ryan watched her retreating figure, then let his gaze drift to the hundred-dollar bills scattered across the bed. The look in his eyes was unreadable—part curiosity, part something darker.

The Montgomery family was hanging by a thread, and yet she had turned down his five-million-dollar offer flat, without even blinking. Was her real play to get close to Kash Wagner all along? She didn't seem like the girl he used to know.

Skye stepped onto the empty street as the clock struck one in the morning. Her legs were still unsteady, her mind a mess. The few late-night stragglers shuffling past offered no comfort. Finally, she couldn't hold it in anymore. She crouched right there on the sidewalk and let the tears come—ugly, heavy sobs that tore through her chest. Her failed plan, the humiliation, the weight of it all crashed down on her.

Under the dim streetlights, her shadow stretched long and lonely.

"Sweetheart, why are you sitting here crying? You alright?" An elderly cleaning lady happened to pass by and stopped, concern softening her weathered face.

Skye lifted her tear-stained eyes to meet the sympathetic gaze, her voice thick with emotion. "My dad was locked up for something he didn't do. It's just me and my sister trying to keep our heads above water while everyone else waits for us to drown. I feel like... I can't do this much longer."

For a year, she had worn a brave mask in front of the world, but inside she was running on fumes, barely able to breathe. Maybe it was easier to break down in front of a total stranger.

The old woman offered warm, gentle words. "Life throws its fair share of storms, dear. Nobody sails through without hitting some rough water. But every hardship is a chance to grow stronger. Chin up, you'll get through this."

Since the Montgomery family's fall, most people had mocked them or treated them like poison. Skye never expected the kindest words to come from a random stranger.

Maybe... there were still good people out there after all.

Skye wiped her tears and nodded with fresh determination. "Thank you, ma'am. I will get through this."

Yes, every challenge only made her tougher.

If her first attempt at seducing Trace Ryan didn't work, she'd try again. If she had to, she'd make him fall for her, no matter what it took. She still had a few cards up her sleeve.

By the time Skye made it back to her rented apartment, it was already two in the morning, her head finally clear. She pushed open the door only to find her sister, Mae Carr, perched on the sofa.

Mae was wearing nothing but a flimsy camisole, her face bare and pale. Her eyes were red-rimmed, like she'd been crying.

Skye hesitated, then walked over and asked softly, "Sis, what are you doing here?"

"Who was that man?" Mae always had this calm, composed way about her, and she never raised her voice at Skye. But the disappointment in her eyes slammed into Skye like a fist to the gut, hard enough to knock the air out of her.

"Trace Ryan," Skye admitted without sugar-coating it.

Mae’s expression darkened. "Skye, do you have any idea what kind of man Trace Ryan is? How dare you get involved with him? This could bring disaster down on you, do you understand?"

Skye answered evenly, "Sis, I found out that the person who framed Dad and put him in prison is tightly connected to Ryan Holdings. Getting close to Trace is the only way I might get to the truth. I..."

Mae's eyes brimmed with tears as she cut in, "But Skye, I don't want you to sacrifice your happiness. You deserve a man who really loves you, a quiet, peaceful life. That's what I want, and it's what Dad would want too. Don't you see that?"

"True love?" Skye let out a bitter laugh like she'd just heard the worst punchline in the world. "What does love even mean? How many men have screwed over the women who trusted them since the beginning of time? Just look at you and Bryce Carr..."

The air froze solid. Mae flinched, memories flooding back—the naive girl who once believed saying "I do" to Bryce meant a lifetime of happiness, only to find out it was nothing but a long, humiliating joke.

How could she judge Skye when her own marriage was a dumpster fire?

"I'm sorry, sis..." Skye winced as regret crashed over her. How could she have dragged up Mae's most painful wound like that?

"No, Skye, you're right," Mae said quietly after a long pause. "But because my marriage failed, I don't want you to make the same mistake I did. Trace Ryan is not someone you can afford to mess with. Promise me you won't see him again. Please."

Skye dodged the promise. "Sis, I'm kinda tired. I'm gonna go take a shower."

With that, she turned and walked away. She didn't want to put Mae in a tough spot, but she had already chosen this road, and she'd walk it to the end—even if she had to crawl every step of the way.

A sudden buzzing from the coffee table cut through the silence.

"Skye, let me finish—" Mae called after her, picking up the phone and unlocking the screen. An auto-playing video popped up.

It showed her husband, Bryce Carr, tangled up in bed with another woman.

Skye Montgomery felt a sharp cramp twist in her stomach, and then a warm trickle ran down her legs.

"Skye... help me..."

Skye was already confused in the bathroom when she suddenly heard her sister Mae Carr calling for help. Panic hit her like a wave, and she rushed out.

Seeing the steady stream of blood from Mae's legs, Skye grabbed her phone with shaky hands and dialed 911. "Hello, 911? My sister is bleeding heavily. Please hurry to Jameson Avenue in the South District..."

By four in the morning, they were in the maternity ward.

Skye sat by the hospital bed, watching Mae, who had fallen into a deep, exhausted sleep. The doctor's words kept replaying in her head: "I'm sorry, but the baby couldn't be saved."

Tears filled Skye's eyes.

The child Mae had fought so hard to keep was gone. Was that just fate?

After a moment's hesitation, Skye pulled out her phone and called Bryce Carr.

The phone rang several times before a woman's saccharine voice answered, "Who's calling so late? Don't you know Bryce and I are asleep?"

Skye said nothing and hung up. Bryce didn't deserve her sister.

When Mae woke up, it was already nine the next morning.

She opened her eyes to find Skye dozing off beside her bed.

Unable to help herself, she softly called, "Skye?"

Skye sat up the moment she heard her sister's voice, forcing a smile to act as if everything was fine. "Sis, you're awake. Are you hungry? I can get you something to eat."

She planned to wait until Mae's emotions settled before breaking the news about the miscarriage.

But Mae calmly asked, "Skye, the baby's gone, isn't it?"

Skye had braced herself for her sister to fall apart, to be inconsolable. Yet Mae didn't shed a tear.

Gently, Skye reassured her, "There'll be other chances to have kids in the future."

Mae let out a hollow laugh. "The future? Bryce and I don't have a future."

The baby was the only thread holding them together. Without the child, what future could there be?

Mae's eerie calm unsettled Skye. "Sis?"

"Skye, could you help me find a lawyer?" Mae suddenly changed the subject.

"What do you need a lawyer for, Sis?" Skye asked with a frown.

Mae lowered her eyes, her emotions unreadable. "It's time to divorce Bryce."

Skye was taken aback.

Up until now, no matter how much Skye had tried to persuade her, Mae had insisted on holding onto her marriage.

Why the sudden change? Was it because of the lost baby?

But Skye didn't push it. She just nodded. "Okay! I'll find you the best lawyer!"

In the past, Mae had done everything to protect her. Now Skye would be her sister's fiercest ally.

As Skye exited the maternity ward, she spotted two familiar figures down the hall—Alexia Richards and Walker Ryan.

Her ex-fiancé and former best friend.

Skye had no intention of engaging with them and turned to walk away.

But Alexia's sugary voice called out, "Skye, what brings you to the hospital? Are you feeling unwell?"

Skye stopped, turning to face the woman who pretended to be a caring friend but was nothing more than a conniving snake.

Once, Alexia had faked frailty and concern, making Skye believe she was a true friend. Only later did Skye uncover her deceitful nature—sneaking around with Walker behind her back!

With a cold smile, Skye replied, "This is the maternity ward. What do you think I'm here for?"

"You're pregnant?" Walker's face twitched slightly, his gaze sharpening on Skye.

In over two years with him, she'd remained untouchable, even denying him her first kiss. And yet, a year apart and she's pregnant?

Was her previous restraint all just an act?

A strange look flickered through Alexia's eyes, but she kept up the concerned facade. "Skye, I hadn't heard you had a boyfriend. Whose child is it?"

Suddenly, Alexia theatrically covered her mouth in shock. "Don't tell me... you've been with a wealthy older man?"

Skye's cold eyes swept over Alexia, a sly smile playing on her lips. "What business is it of yours?"

Her beautiful face exuded an air of noble allure, completely shedding the image of a fallen heiress.

Alexia clenched her fingers tightly, her eyes darkening.

She had eagerly anticipated the Montgomerys' downfall, excited to overshadow Skye, only for Skye to latch onto wealth?

Did Skye think cozying up to a rich sugar daddy would make her stand out?

Feigning the demeanor of a good friend, Alexia said, "Skye, how can you do something so morally questionable?"

Skye chuckled lightly. "Even if I lack a moral compass, I'm still better than those who resort to scavenging—or rather, 'stealing' trash."

She emphasized the word 'stealing,' making Walker's expression darken instantly.

How could he miss Skye's insinuation that he was trash?

Yet Alexia, undeterred, pulled out an invitation from her bag, offering it with a smile. "Skye, Walker and I are having our engagement party next Friday. We hope you'll come."

Without any expression, Skye took the invitation, her lips curling into an alluring smile. "Don't worry, I'll be there."

With that, she walked away with dignity, leaving them exchanging meaningful glances.

Watching Skye's retreating figure, Alexia smugly said to Walker, "Walker, I can't believe Skye is being kept by someone. How could she stoop so low?"

All the while, her eyes stayed on Walker, eager to gauge his reaction.

Walker put his arm around her indifferently. "Alexia, Skye and I have nothing to do with each other anymore. Aren't you feeling unwell? Let's get you checked."

Satisfied with his response, Alexia finally smiled.

Meanwhile, Skye had expected to feel sadness or anger over Walker and Alexia's appearance, but surprisingly she felt nothing—just a vague sense of disgust and nausea.

Leaving the hospital, she headed straight to the law firm.

Unexpectedly, upon leaving, she ran into Trace Ryan and Damari Jacobs.

They were stepping out of a luxury car, followed by two security guards in black suits.

Trace wore the same black coat from the previous night, his boots adding to his authoritative presence, his handsome face betraying no emotion as he walked toward her.

It was undeniable—the man commanded attention wherever he went.

No wonder he was known as the Grim Reaper of the city!

Skye debated whether to greet him, but Trace walked past her without so much as a glance, heading into the law firm.

His indifference was frosty, as though she were a complete stranger.

Skye's lips turned up in a bittersweet smile.

What was she expecting?

Aside from their one night together, they were indeed strangers.

Before entering the law firm, Damari Jacobs couldn't resist taking another look at Skye.

It was nothing personal, but the girl was remarkably striking.

If the Montgomery family hadn't gone bankrupt, he couldn't imagine any man worthy of such a woman.

But now, with the Montgomerys' fall from grace, she was no longer in the spotlight.

"Trace, what do you think of that girl just now?" Damari caught up with Trace, asking playfully in his ear.

“Which girl?” Trace Ryan tossed a detached glance at Damari Jacobs.

“The one we just passed at the entrance. You know, Skye Montgomery — the former Montgomery heiress,” Damari said, clicking his tongue in disdain. “She’s a real stunner, but with her father’s conviction dragging her name through the mud, who in this city would dare marry her?”

Trace arched an eyebrow, a cold glint flickering in his eyes. “And you’re sure Jonathan Montgomery’s guilty? Were you there to watch it go down?”

Damari blinked, caught off guard by the sudden edge in Trace’s voice. “The court ruled on it. How could it be wrong?”

Trace answered flatly, “Things aren’t always what they seem.”

“You think Jonathan was framed?” Damari asked, curiosity prickling.

Trace’s chiseled face stayed unreadable. “Montgomery Corp was thriving. Do you honestly think he’d torch all that for a few million bucks?”

A year ago, Trace had met Jonathan Montgomery face-to-face. Jonathan had been calm, steady, the kind of man who wouldn’t sell his soul for a paycheck. How could someone like that stoop to embezzlement? In business, every crack is a lever — one an opponent can use to bring you down for good.

Damari’s eyes went wide. “So somebody set him up?”

Trace shot him a loaded look, then said nothing as he strode into a law office.

Damari scrambled to keep up.

“Trace, Damari — glad you made it!” A man with wire-rimmed glasses and a slick, polished air rose to greet them. Victor Reid. “I’ve pulled together every loophole Wagner Corp’s been exploiting. All set for your review.”

Trace gave a short nod. “Thanks for the hard work.”

Damari couldn’t hold it in any longer. “Trace, I don’t get it. Our partnership with Wagner is rock-solid — Kash Wagner’s not stupid enough to cross us. Why dig into him?”

A flash of Skye’s delicate, innocent face crossed Trace’s mind, and he asked in a low voice, “Why was Skye here earlier?”

He aimed the question at Victor.

Victor felt a jolt of surprise. Trace never showed interest in women — let alone someone like Skye Montgomery, who’d become a punchline in their social circles. Still, he answered honestly. “Skye came in looking for a lawyer to handle her sister’s divorce. I’ve assigned someone to the case.”

Trace’s brows knit together, his gaze sharpening. “You take this case personally.”

That wasn’t a suggestion. It was a command.

Victor’s stomach dropped. Trace personally assigning him a case? Unheard of. And Skye was the first. There had to be something going on between them.

Damari suddenly remembered that Kash Wagner — the president of Wagner Corp — used to be Jonathan’s business partner. After the Montgomery collapse, Kash had wasted no time distancing himself and pinning every bit of blame on Jonathan. Yet Ryan and Wagner’s partnership had never skipped a beat. Damari couldn’t help but smirk. “Trace, you’re really into Skye, huh? But her ex was your nephew...”

He didn’t get to finish. Trace’s icy stare cut him off mid-sentence. “If you’re that attached to your tongue, I can fix that.”

Damari clamped his mouth shut immediately. Was a little joke a crime now?

Suddenly, a phone rang.

Trace glanced at the screen, his expression darkening at the caller ID. He hung up without a second thought.

Victor caught a glimpse of the name and couldn’t resist asking, “Trace, you’ve been back with the Ryan family for two years now. Haven’t you thought about reconciling with Soren Ryan?”

Trace’s eyes went cold as forged steel. “He doesn’t deserve it.”

The room went silent, the tension pressing down like a weight.

Damari knew that bringing up Soren around Trace was basically stepping on a landmine. Hoping to shift gears, he tried, “Hey Trace, where’s that watch Marcus gave you? Haven’t seen you wearing it lately.”

He’d meant to lighten the mood — but all he did was ice over Trace’s demeanor even more.

Trace’s gaze clouded. “Left it at the family house.”

Last week, he’d stopped by for Ryan Corp business and accidentally left the watch in the study.

Damari sighed internally. Apparently, his foot had a permanent home in his mouth.

Meanwhile, Skye sat in a taxi heading for the hospital. As the scenery blurred past, a faint crease formed on her delicate brow. She’d hoped to leave some impression on Trace — but clearly, she was just another face in the crowd.

Her phone buzzed. Seeing her best friend Annika Carpenter’s name, she picked up. “Annika.”

“Skye, so how did it go last night? Did Trace take the bait?” Annika’s voice crackled with excitement.

Skye thought of Trace’s cold gaze and let out a sigh. “Not yet.”

“With your face and charm, how could Trace Ryan not notice you? Are you sure he’s not into dudes?” Annika joked, incredulous.