The message arrived mid-afternoon: brief, coldly formal, unmistakably David.

"Dinner. 7 PM. Delphina's. Dress accordingly."

Lily hadn't expected the invitation.

She stared at the text for a long moment, thumbs hovering.

Delphina's?

The same five-star restaurant he had once mentioned taking her to after the successful completion of Project A.

He never did. Business had gotten in the way. Marina's return had taken priority. But now, here it was months later.

Why now?

She didn't answer the message. She just showed up at 7 sharp, dressed in a sleek black dress she'd bought two years ago on impulse, back when she still hoped he'd take her somewhere nice without a reason. She'd left the tag on until tonight.

The waiters greeted her with reverent familiarity, guiding her through the quiet restaurant to a table near the tall windows. The place was empty. Every seat, every table, every candle belonged to them.

A candlelit dinner, booked exclusively for two.

David sat waiting, impeccably dressed in a charcoal suit, tie loose, eyes unreadable.

He didn't even look at her when she arrived.

She also said nothing, taking her seat across from him. A glass of wine already waited beside her plate.

He poured himself a drink, swirling it like this was a routine thing.

"You booked a whole restaurant," she said flatly, "for a woman you don't love."

He paused, lifting the glass to his lips. "You earned this dinner. You handled Project A flawlessly. Better than my executives."

"So this is… professional gratitude?"

He finally met her gaze.

"Why? Are you expecting something else too?"

Lily laughed to herself. Did she have the right to expect anything from him?

The waiter came, stiff and silent, serving course after course as if this were any ordinary anniversary dinner. But it wasn't. The air between them hummed with things unsaid.

David talked a little about work—brief updates, short remarks. She responded with polite nods, eyes scanning the flickering candlelight like it held answers.

When dessert came—a dark chocolate ganache with spiced raspberry coulis—Lily's phone buzzed.

It was a message from Noa.

"Stocks dropping. Marina scandal is everywhere. Someone leaked the gala photos."

"He's using the dinner to delay the divorce announcement. Protecting his company. Not you."

Lily's stomach turned. The chocolate turned to ash in her mouth.

Of course.

This wasn't romance. It was damage control.

She set her spoon down. "You could've just asked me to cooperate. You didn't need this elaborate dinner."

David's expression shifted, just slightly. "I thought you'd appreciate the gesture."

"I might've, if it were genuine."

He leaned back in his chair, watching her. "So. You've heard."

"I have eyes, Mr. Hardison, and ears too."

The flicker of tension darkened his gaze. "You want to discuss this here?"

Lily folded her napkin carefully. "You can delay the public announcement. I won't go to the press. I'll play along if that helps. But the divorce goes on."

His jaw flexed.

"Why are you in such a rush now?" His voice was low, tightly controlled. "You were perfectly fine being my wife for five years. Knowing I loved someone else, you slept with me and married me. Willingly."

"I was a fool," she said quietly.

"No," he snapped, "you were desperate. Don't act like this was some noble sacrifice. You wanted something. And you got it."

Her eyes narrowed. "What exactly do you think I wanted?"

"You tell me," he said coldly. "Power? Status? Money? You knew I wasn't offering love. You still signed that contract. So don't give me this teary victim act now."

She stood, slowly, deliberately.

"I stayed because I hoped," she said. "Hoped one day you'd see me. Not as a placeholder. Not as a secretary. But as a person. A woman who gave you everything she had, even when you never asked."

His laugh was bitter. "Spare me the monologue. If this is about money, my lawyers can increase the settlement."

Lily's fingers curled into fists. The anger built like a storm breaking in her chest.

"You think everything's about money," she whispered. "That's the only language you understand, isn't it?"

David didn't flinch. "It's the only language that gets things done."

Without thinking, without warning, Lily slapped him.

The crack of palm against cheek echoed through the empty restaurant like a gunshot. The waiter dropped a fork somewhere behind the bar. A candle flickered dangerously.

David didn't move.

His head stayed turned, a red mark blooming on his cheek. His expression unreadable.

Lily's breath came in fast, ragged pulls. Her pulse throbbed in her temples.

"I'm done," she hissed, grabbing her clutch. "This time, for real."

She turned too fast. Her elbow knocked the tall glass vase beside her. It teetered, then toppled, water and orchids spilling toward the floor.

Before she could flinch, David lunged.

His arm wrapped around her waist, yanking her back just as the vase shattered inches from her feet. A shard bounced off his forearm, slicing through fabric and skin.

"Shit," he muttered.

Lily stared at him, stunned. "You're bleeding..."

"I've had worse." He looked down, checking her legs, her hands. "You okay?"

She nodded, still breathless.

He let her go a second later, stepping back like the moment never happened.

The waiter appeared with towels. David dismissed him with a glance.

Blood soaked through the cuff of his white shirt, dripping along his wrist.

Lily grabbed a napkin and reached for him. "Let me..."

"I said I'm fine."

"David..."

He caught her wrist, firm but not harsh. His eyes locked onto hers.

"You don't get to slap me and then play the caring wife," he said.

"You don't get to accuse me of gold-digging and then throw yourself in front of a flying vase."

They stood like that—motionless, bound by years of silence and buried truths. Then David's grip loosened.

Lily never expected David to risk his life for her.

Now, seated in the hospital room, watching the doctor clean and dress the gash across his shoulder, her stomach twisted into a tight knot. Guilt, confusion, and something softer—something terrifyingly close to affection—churned together inside her chest.

The antiseptic smell hung thick in the room. The monitor beeped steadily, and David sat still, only flinching slightly when the cotton swab touched raw skin. Lily stood a little away, her arms wrapped around her midsection, her teeth worrying her lower lip. She hadn't said much since they arrived. Neither had he.

The doctor finished the dressing, then glanced toward Lily. "He'll be fine, but he needs rest and careful attention. You're his wife, aren't you?"

Lily opened her mouth but didn't know what to say.

"She is," David said flatly before she could respond. "Make sure she knows how to take care of the wound."

The doctor nodded and began explaining the medication schedule and dressing changes. Lily listened carefully, her hands trembling just a little as she took the instructions. Once they were alone again, the silence stretched.

Lily turned to him. "Why did you do that?"

David raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"You got hurt. For me."

He let out a humorless chuckle. "Don't flatter yourself."

Her eyes narrowed. "I'm not, I'm trying to understand. You didn't have to..."

"You were in the way," he muttered, looking away. "It was a reflex."

Lily stared at him. "That's a poor excuse for someone who just threw himself in front of a falling vase."

His eyes met hers again, colder now. "It doesn't matter why I did it. You're safe. That's all."

His words sounded noble, but something inside her cracked. She wasn't stupid. She'd seen the panic in his eyes when she stumbled, the way he hadn't hesitated even for a second. That wasn't just reflex. It couldn't be.

But before she could press further, the door flung open.

"David!"

A shrill, high-pitched voice echoed in the room.

Marina walked in like a storm wrapped in silk and perfume, her heels tapping loudly against the floor, her eyes taking in the scene like a snake spotting prey. Her gaze flicked between David on the hospital bed and Lily standing near him.

"Well, isn't this cozy," she sneered.

Lily instinctively stepped back.

"Marina," David said warningly, his voice low.

"You got injured and instead of calling me"—she emphasized the word like poison on her tongue—"you're here playing house with her?"

"I didn't call anyone," David said flatly. "She was there."

Marina ignored him. She was only getting started. "Of course she was. This bitch is always around when something goes wrong! You're nothing but a shameless homewrecker, you know that? You think pretending to be caring will bring him back to you?"

Lily stayed silent. The insult stung more than it should have.

"She's here because she's my secretary," David said sharply. "And I don't need to explain myself to you."

Marina's eyes widened, then narrowed. "So she still matters that much? You'd rather protect her than me?"

"I'd protect anyone in danger. A stranger. A cat. Even a dog," David said, his tone ice-cold. "Don't confuse basic decency with affection."

Lily's throat closed up.

Of course.

That was all she was.

A cat. A dog. Just another soul on the street he happened to save because he had a 'moral duty.'

Just moments ago, she had almost believed—almost hoped—he might still care. But hearing him lump her with stray animals...

"Got it," she whispered. Her hands shook slightly, but she forced them still. "Thanks for clearing that up."

She turned toward the door.

But before she could leave, Marina grabbed her arm. "Wait."

Lily looked back, frowning.

"I ordered some nutritious meals for David. Organic, specially curated by his dietician. I... I don't know the roads around this hospital. Can you pick them up for me? I would, but I don't want to get lost."

Lily stared at her.

Seriously?

"You think I'm your errand girl now?"

"Just do it," Marina shrugged with a fake smile. "You're already here. You took responsibility for his injury, right? Fetching some food isn't too much to ask."

Lily glanced at David.

He didn't meet her eyes. He leaned back against the pillow, closing his eyes as if none of this involved him at all.

That was enough.

She exhaled slowly and nodded. "Fine."

If this was what it took to erase the guilt, she'd do it.

Marina gave her a note with the address. "Don't take too long. David hates cold food."

Lily didn't respond. She walked out of the room, feeling her legs tremble slightly under her weight.

She didn't know why her chest hurt so much.

Maybe she really was just a street dog in David's eyes.

But this street dog was finally learning.

Not to love.

But to let go.

The city was sweltering under the streetlights when Lily stepped out of the hospital. David had been injured protecting her, and no matter how cruel his words were, she couldn't ignore the pain behind them.

First, she went to the east side of town for some rare mushroom broth. Then, just as she paid, Marina called again.

"Oh, Lily, I forgot to mention David prefers steamed herbal soups now. There's a new place in the west. Can you grab those too?" Marina's voice was syrupy sweet over the phone, hiding the steel underneath.

Lily hesitated, glancing at the heavy bags in her hand. "I already....."

"Don't forget you are his secretary, this is your job," Marina interrupted coldly.

Lily gritted her teeth. "Fine."

By the time she returned to the hospital, her clothes clung to her like a second skin, her arms ached from the weight of the food, and sweat matted her hair to her forehead.

But nothing could've prepared her for what she saw through the slightly ajar ward door.

David, leaning comfortably against the bed, laughing softly as Marina fed him a spoonful of something from a bowl. His expression was relaxed, even fond—a side of him Lily hadn't seen in years.

Her chest tightened. "You already ate?" she asked, stepping inside.

David looked up, startled. Marina's eyes widened not in guilt, but in victory.

"I didn't know you'd take so long," she said flatly. Lily dropped the bags onto the nearby table with a loud thud. "Are you serious right now? You sent me to the east, then called me halfway and made me go to the west. I've been running around town while you two were in here... enjoying takeout?"

Marina put on her best 'guilty' face. "I'm so sorry, Lily. I had no idea his tastes had changed while I was gone. I thought he still liked the old recipes."

Lily scoffed, unmoved. "Spare me the performance."

"Lily," David's tone hardened, "that's enough."

"Oh, please don't be upset," Marina whimpered, tears welling in her eyes. "I won't let your effort go to waste. If you can forgive me, I'll eat it all myself—every bite." She dramatically reached for the container of mushroom soup, unscrewing the lid.

Lily stared at her. Was this woman for real? The theatrics, the crocodile tears—it was laughable. But there was nothing funny about the way David looked at her, as if she were the unreasonable one.

"You don't have to force yourself," Lily said coldly. "I don't care what you do with it."

She turned to leave, her throat tight with anger and humiliation.

Behind her, she heard the rustle of plastic and the clatter of chopsticks.

"I mean it," Marina said. "I'll eat it all...see?"

Lily glanced back just in time to see Marina stuffing food into her mouth, exaggerated and showy. In that moment, it seemed more like a performance than a genuine gesture. Lily narrowed her eyes, the words what is she playing at forming in her mind.

But then, Marina froze.

Her eyes widened. The color drained from her face. One hand clutched her throat.

"Marina?" David's voice rose sharply.

Marina stumbled to her feet, gasping.

"Can't... breathe..." she choked, her face swelling rapidly, red blotches erupting across her skin.

"Call a doctor!" David shouted, already on his feet.

Lily's heart plummeted into her stomach.

"Oh my god..." she whispered, stunned.

A nurse rushed in with a crash cart, shouting orders. David swept Marina into his arms and ran with her down the hallway toward the ER, barking for help.

Lily followed, legs moving before she could think.

But just outside the emergency wing, David turned around and faced her.

His expression was venomous.

"You fed her that," he hissed. "You knew she was allergic to mushrooms."

"What? No... I didn't know!" Lily stammered, her throat closing. "I swear I didn't know!"

"She almost died!" he snapped. He stepped closer. "If anything happens to her... anything... I will press charges. Understand that clearly."

His words hit her like a slap.

Lily took a step back, hands shaking. "You think I poisoned her?"

He didn't answer. He didn't need to.

The raw accusation in his eyes said everything.

The silence between them stretched for long seconds until the sound of nurses and doctors shuffling in and out of Marina's room broke the standoff.

Lily's breath caught. Her hands trembled.

David had already turned away, storming into the emergency room.

She hadn't done anything.

She didn't even know Marina was allergic to mushrooms. It wasn't her who had told Marina to eat it.

Lily closed her eyes and remembered the last thing Marina had said before stuffing the food into her mouth:

"As long as you can forgive me, I'll eat it all."

What kind of person said that?

And who ate something they knew they were allergic to?

Unless...

Unless they wanted something to happen.

A scene. A weapon to use.

A plan.

The idea chilled Lily more than the night wind.

One thing had become clear.

Marina had orchestrated this to turn David against her, and she had succeeded.

Lily stood frozen in the hallway as the door shut behind him. Her chest ached, but this time it wasn't from fatigue.

It was from the sharp realization that no matter what she did... she would always be the villain in David's eyes.