Prissie’s POV

Snapping out of my thoughts, I carried the trash bag into the study and began sorting through the things that no longer had a place in my life.

I tore up the hundreds of love letters I had written to Declan.

I smashed the starry sky telescope I gave him when we were kids.

And when I was about to throw away the childhood photo of us that had sat on display for the past ten years, my hand accidentally brushed against the mouse.

The computer screen lit up.

In the very next second, just as Reigne’s smiling face appeared, I was shoved hard.

My head slammed against the glass of the bookshelf behind me. The pain was instant, my face going pale.

Declan, having doubled back, didn’t even look at me. His eyes were on something else entirely. Once he confirmed that the ceramic pig Reigne gave him was completely intact, he shot me a sidelong glance.

“Prissie,” she said coldly, “from now on, you’re not allowed in the study.”

The pain in my skull left me speechless. I simply watched in silence as he opened the safe, took out the heirloom diamond ring, and left with excitement written all over his face.

Not long after, I received a video from one of Declan’s closest friends.

It was filmed at the top floor of Starlight Restaurant.

In front of a circle of close friends, Declan knelt on one knee, holding a bouquet and that diamond ring. He looked up at Reigne.

“Reigne, before I met you,” he said, “I never believed in true love. But from the moment you appeared, my world—dim and colorless for thirty years—was suddenly illuminated. Right here, right now, I humbly beg you… Please give me the chance to protect you for a lifetime.”

Beneath a sky bursting with dazzling fireworks, Reigne tearfully accepted the ring and threw herself into Declan’s arms, smiling through her tears.

I had barely finished watching the video when I received the location to a private club.

That was all I needed to know.

Declan and his so-called friends were at it again—placing bets, laughing at my expense.

They were gambling on how long it would take me to storm into the club and “catch them in the act.”

They were gambling on whether I’d lose it in public—cry, scream, or even threaten suicide.

Over the past ten years, every time Declan bet that I’d cry, he always won.

But this time, I sent back just one sentence.

[Tell Declan, congratulations on finally getting what he wants.]

Then, I put my phone on silent and went back to my room to sleep.

The next morning, when I woke up, I saw two missed calls.

Both were from Declan.

I didn’t call back; I had to rush to the bathroom to throw up.

The pain in the back of my head was getting worse. I had no choice but to drive myself to the hospital.

While waiting in the reception area for my name to be called, I saw Declan and Reigne.

They were standing on either side of a middle-aged woman, supporting her like family—smiling, chatting, looking every bit the happy trio.

“Mom,” Reigne said sweetly, “see how caring President Mortimer is? Even with his busy schedule, he’s been coming with me every day to visit you.”

“Don’t say that, Reigne,” Declan replied with a gentle tone. “If it weren’t for you and Auntie Petula taking such good care of my mom back then, she wouldn’t have held on long enough for me to return to Connecticut. I’m the one who should be thanking you.”

Petula chuckled and was about to say something when her eyes met mine.

Instantly, her gaze dropped in guilt. She let out a fake cough and looked away.

Seeing Petula, the head nurse from back then, I finally understood why Declan fell in love with Reigne.

My throat itched, and I let out a soft, bitter laugh.

Declan, hearing it, turned at once. His brows furrowed as he walked over.

“Prissie,” he snapped, “where the hell were you fooling around last night?”

I pressed my lips into a thin line and replied calmly, “I was home the whole time.”

His expression twisted into something between a sneer and a scowl. “Home, and you still ignored my calls?”

Ever since we got together, I had never missed a single one of his calls.

Probably realizing that, he suddenly reached out and grabbed my jaw with one hand.

“You think I’m a three-year-old you can fool?”

His fingers paused. A strange look flickered in his eyes as he noticed the clammy sweat on my skin.

“Prissie… why are you sweating so much?”

Before I could answer, a soft, tearful voice cried out, “Dex!”

Reigne’s sobbing call immediately drew him back to her side.

At the same time, Petula clutched her chest and let out a pained groan. “Ah… It hurts!”

Prissie’s POV

Declan immediately accompanied Reigne and her mom back to the hospital room.

Not only that—he even called for a full hospital-wide consultation with all the doctors.

Two whole hours passed.

I had been waiting forever for a doctor to see me. Dizzy and vomiting, I eventually passed out and went into shock—only getting minimal treatment after a passing nurse happened to find me and rushed me to the emergency room.

When I dragged myself home in exhaustion, Declan was blow-drying Reigne’s hair.

They had just finished bathing. Both of them were dressed in the couple’s pajamas I had bought.

The neckline of the pajamas dipped low—too low to hide the trail of kiss marks scattered across Reigne’s skin.

“Prissie,” Reigne said in a syrupy voice, clutching her towel with a look of pretend innocence. “Please don’t misunderstand. Dex and I didn’t do anything shameful in the room…”

She trembled slightly, as if afraid of being misunderstood.

And Declan, catching that movement, shot me a look full of displeasure.

“Don’t you have any manners? Didn’t your parents teach you to knock before entering a room?” he snapped.

“Sorry,” I replied evenly. “They died young. Didn’t get the chance to teach me that.”

At my words, he actually went quiet for once.

I walked to the closet and pulled out a change of clothes. With a neutral tone, I offered, “I’ll stay in the guest room.”

He froze for a second, only to sneer with barely hidden disdain.

“Oh, come on, Prissie, stop pretending to be so high and mighty. Don’t make a scene. I just brought Reigne home for a meal. Nobody’s fighting you for that crappy bed of yours.”

Still running a low fever, I didn’t even bother to argue. I simply turned and went to the guest room, took my meds, and lay down to rest.

Reigne didn’t leave that night.

The next morning, the moment I stepped out of the room, I overheard the maids talking to each other in a hushed voice.

“I’ve worked in the Mortimers for years, but this is the first time I’ve seen Sir Declan treat a woman with this much care. Ma’am Reigne just casually mentioned she’d never been on a carousel, and he had the entire amusement park moved into the backyard. He actually had fun with her all night…”

“Right, and that’s not all. I just saw him in the kitchen making her breakfast himself, and he even tested the milk with his lips before he gave it to her!”

Through the floor-to-ceiling window, I saw the flower garden I had spent years cultivating—my rarest, most beloved blooms—all completely destroyed.

Calmly, I picked up the phone and called finance.

“Sell the St. Mary’s Cathedral property in the west suburbs,” I said.

I had just hung up when a voice barked from behind me.

“Prissie! You’re selling the engagement gift I gave you? Why?!”

Declan stood at the end of the hallway, for some reason looking furious.

“Didn’t you insist on getting married there? Kicking up a fuss about it like it was the end of the world?”

“Well, I changed my mind,” I replied flatly.

Declan’s POV

‘Changed her fucking mind?’ I scoffed inwardly. ‘The damn wedding’s only ten days out!’

‘Switching venues now? Impossible… unless… unless she’s not planning on marrying me anymore?’ The suspicion crept in before I could stop it.

But the idea was so ridiculous, I actually laughed.

I was just about to ask what fairytale castle she thought she could magically switch to.

But then, out of nowhere, Reigne showed up barefoot.

She wrapped herself around my arm, same as always, then rose on her toes and brushed a kiss against my cheek.

Prissie’s POV

“Oh! Prissie! You’re awake already…”

Reigne acted as if she hadn’t seen me before kissing him, then bashfully ducked behind Declan’s shoulder like some innocent little girl.

“Um, Prissie,” she chirped sweetly, “Dex made so much delicious food this morning. I ate so much my tummy hurts, and I still couldn’t finish it all. Could you help me out and eat some too?”

Declan chuckled indulgently and pinched her nose.

“Silly girl. Don’t eat like that again. Take some digestive tablets—here, I’ll rub your tummy for you.”

I was starving, so I didn’t reject her offer.

But I had barely taken a few bites when she started giggling coquettishly.

“Dex, you’re so naughty! You promised to just rub my tummy… Hey! Bad hands! That part is off-limits, okay?”

Across the table, Declan leaned in to nibble playfully at her ear as he smiled and murmured an apology.

I caught him sneaking a glance in my direction—obviously deliberate, though he acted like it was unintentional.

Prissie’s POV

All it took was a single glance for the smile to vanish from his face.

Gritting his teeth, Declan demanded, “Hey, Prissie, where’s the bracelet on your wrist?”

It was the very first gift he had ever given me.

We’d grown up together for fifteen years, and he had never once seen me take it off.

I slowly bit a mouthful of toast, not even bothering to look up as I replied casually, “It was old. It broke.”

The second I said that, his jaw tightened. He let out a scoff, pressing his fingers against his temples as if trying to rein in his temper.

“And then?” he asked coldly.

I didn’t answer him. Instead, I said, “I’m done eating. You two can continue.”

Just as I stood up to leave, showing not the slightest bit of care, Declan suddenly slammed his palm against the table with a loud bang.

But before he could explode, Reigne pouted and beat him to it.

“Dex, I… I cut my finger with the table knife… I’m bleeding…” she said, her voice pitiful.

Upon hearing that, Declan took her hand, brought her fingertip to his mouth, and gently sucked the wound clean—without the slightest trace of disgust. Then, holding her in his arms, he rushed her to the hospital.

The moment they left, the moving company I had scheduled arrived.

I had all of my personal belongings moved into the new apartment that man had bought.

Once everything was settled, I placed the keys to the villa on the entryway table and walked out the front door without the slightest trace of sentimentality.

Two days later, I had just stepped out of my personal studio when Declan intercepted me and forcibly brought me to a seaside restaurant.

Candlelight. Ocean breeze. Fresh seafood.

Everything I used to whisper about—my little fantasies of the perfect date—he made them all come true that night.

Then, as if trying to seal the moment, he pulled out a flawless diamond bracelet, gently lifted my hand, and tried to slip it on for me.

But I quickly pulled my hand back and smiled politely, keeping my distance. “This bracelet is far too expensive. You should give it to Reigne instead.”

His expression shifted slightly.

“I was gone for just two days,” he said darkly, “and now you’re giving me this moody attitude? Prissie, do you seriously think you’re the lady of the Mortimers?”

“I wouldn’t dare,” I said with a small shake of my head.

His eyes grew even colder.

“I’m warning you, Prissie—don’t push your luck. Don’t test my patience.”

I looked at him and gave a sincere smile.

“You can rest assured. From this moment on, I won’t have anything more to do with you because—”

Before I could finish my sentence, Declan’s phone rang.

It was a call from Reigne.

Her voice on the other end was trembling, barely holding back sobs.

“Dex, I know today is your tenth anniversary with Prissie. I shouldn’t be calling… but this time, I’m really leaving. Please believe me, no one forced me… everything… everything was my choice…”

She hung up right after, and no matter how many times Declan tried to call back, all he got was a busy tone.

Enraged, he smashed the diamond bracelet to pieces—completely ignoring the shards that flew across my face, slicing into my skin.

Then, losing all control, he grabbed me by the throat, his face dark with fury.

“What kind of underhanded trick are you playing this time, huh?” he growled.

I met his eyes without a hint of fear. “It has nothing to do with me.”

He let out a sharp laugh through gritted teeth.

“Prissie, watching you pretend to be innocent and jealous—it honestly makes me sick.”

Then, with eyes full of contempt, he threw me violently to the ground and stormed out without another word.

The moment he left, a message from Reigne popped up on my phone.

[So what if you’re a rich and powerful heiress? In the end, my three months still won over your ten years, Prissie.]

I replied with a single line. [Congratulations.]

Then I blocked her.

I had just reached the doorway, hand braced against the wall for support, when Declan’s bodyguards appeared. One of them clamped a hand over my mouth and dragged me into the bathroom.

He forced me down into the dirty toilet water, again and again—relentless, merciless torture!

I was barely clinging to life, but that still wasn’t enough. In the end, they tore the clothes off my body and threw me into a freezing storage unit set to ninety-nine degrees below zero!

As I hovered on the brink of death, I heard Declan’s voice echoing through the restaurant’s public announcement system.

“I told you to keep an eye on Prissie! What do you mean you don’t know where she is?!”