I spent three months meticulously planning my wedding of the century to Preston Hayes, the heir to a business titan, at The Plaza Hotel in New York City. However, at the altar, my fiancé, Preston, turned to his newly widowed sister-in-law, Camila, and vowed to take care of her.

I rushed to confront him, but before I could utter a word, Camila clutched her chest and collapsed.

An enraged Preston had me forcibly committed to a remote private sanatorium, accusing my hysterics of ruining the wedding and triggering Camila's heart attack.

"My brother just died! I was trying to give Camila the support she needs, and you had to make a scene?"

"Camila's heart is fragile, and this is on you. You'll stay here until she recovers and think about what you've done."

Three years later, as the fiancée of Rhys Nelson, the CEO of a world-leading biotech company, I accompanied him to an industry summit in Aspen.

Preston, along with Camila, also came to the summit, hoping to persuade Rhys to invest in his new project.

He saw me being blocked by security at the door and glanced at the documents in my hand.

"I heard after the Hayes family dropped you, you ended up with some second-rate nobody out of spite. Regretting it now?"

"If you beg me, I might consider letting you in."

I didn't waste a glance on him.

The reason I was even there? Rhys had forgotten a critical report at the hotel, and I had to get it to him before the summit began.

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1

"No invitation, you're not getting in."

The summit was about to start. A burly security guard shoved me back forcefully, his gaze raking over me with contempt.

I staggered back a few steps, nearly dropping the files in my arms.

The entire ski resort was on high alert. A VIP's heirloom had gone missing, and tense-looking security personnel were everywhere.

"These are urgent documents—"

"Rhys Nelson doesn't see just anyone!" the guard sneered. "Especially not some social climber trying to sleep her way to the top."

He wrinkled his nose, as if I reeked of cheap perfume.

"You don't even have a decent coat. I hear Mr. Nelson is announcing his engagement soon. God knows what you climbers are trying to pull!"

He shoved me out the door. I lost my balance and crashed straight into a solid, muscular chest.

A familiar scent of sandalwood cologne enveloped me.

My head snapped up.

Preston.

It had been three years. He was still as tall and handsome as ever, his tailored Zegna suit impeccable. But his eyes were colder than I remembered.

A flicker of shock crossed his eyes when he saw me, but it vanished as quickly as it came, replaced by that same, unchanging arrogance.

He waved a dismissive hand, and the security guard was gone.

The once-overbearing guard now scurried away with a fawning smile, casting a venomous look over his shoulder as he left.

"Alicia?" His voice was low and dangerous. "What are you doing here?"

I straightened up, putting space between us. "That's none of your business."

"Following me?" Preston sauntered down the steps. "It's been three years. I thought you had more self-respect. You've been blacklisted from this circle. What are you doing back?"

I watched his lips move, but the words were just noise. My mind was already elsewhere.

The endless torment in that sanatorium had taught me one thing: I didn't need him.

So, I managed to contact the outside world. I accepted a new job offer from a man I had long admired: biotech giant Rhys Nelson.

A month later, Preston came to the sanatorium to "release" me himself.

I didn't meet his gaze once. I just got into Rhys's car and headed to California to start my new life, leaving him in the dust.

Before long, Rhys became the leading figure in the entire industry.

Before I could answer him, a cloying voice cooed from behind.

"Preston, darling, what's all the commotion?"

Camila sauntered over, dressed in a custom Chanel suit.

She linked her arm intimately with Preston's.

When she saw me, her lips curved into a perfect smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"Alicia? Oh, my goodness, it really is you!" she feigned surprise. "It's been three years. Have you... been well?"

Her gaze lingered on my jeans and plain sweater.

"Looks like life's been tough."

"What's that in your hand?" Her sharp eyes noticed my files.

Preston snatched them from my grasp.

"Give them back!"

He dodged my reach with ease and tore open the cover.

"'Report on Illegal Gene Experiments.'" He read the cover, his brow furrowing. Then he let out a cold laugh.

"I heard that after you were cast out of our circle, you went to work for some third-rate company to spite me. Looks like it's true."

My heart hammered in my chest.

"You left without a word, and now you're reduced to running errands for a shell company like this?"

His voice was laced with pity. "Working for a company with no future, without the protection of your family name. Alicia, have you really sunk this low?"

"What are you talking about?"

I snatched the files back.

Medical accidents on the East Coast resulting from illegal experiments had been soaring. That's why Rhys was so desperate to launch this investigation.

Nelson Dynamics was headquartered in California. I had refused to come to the East Coast with him for years, so it was no surprise that no one here recognized me.

"What's the matter? Speechless now that I've called your bluff?"

Seeing my silence, he jeered at me.

"There's an important industry summit here today. If Mr. Nelson finds out some low-level employee trespassed, you're finished."

A flicker of pity crossed his eyes.

"But for old times' sake, I can get you in. You just have to beg me. Grovel a little. I might even consider offering your pitiful boss an internship at the Hayes Corporation."

Submission? An internship spot?

For me? The woman whose fiancé practically owns the entire industry?

For the woman who could have anything she wanted?

Who the hell did Preston think he was?

"Alicia, you're as stubborn as ever." He shook his head at my expression. "Three years, and you haven't grown up at all."

In a fit of rage, I stomped on his foot.

My sharp heel dug deep into his expensive Ferragamo leather shoe.

"Ah!" Preston cried out in pain but quickly grabbed my wrist. "You—you think this is your house? You can just walk in? This is Rhys Nelson's territory! Even I need an invitation!"

"Three years, and you're still the same spoiled princess. For God's sake, grow up!"

"Look at you now! Was the title of 'Mrs. Hayes' really worth all this? Worth throwing a tantrum and disappearing?"

Just as we were about to explode, Camila clutched her chest and began to gasp.

"I'm sorry... if I hadn't lost my husband..." she said weakly, "Preston wouldn't have felt so much sympathy for me that he wanted to take care of me at the wedding..."

Here we go again. Same old act.

"After you left, everything was chaos. For a while, Preston struggled to explain his fiancée's disappearance," she went on, laying the drama on thick. "But now that you're back, you can take everything back. I'm just an outsider. I'll step aside..."

Seeing her pale, fragile state, Preston immediately steadied her.

"Camila, don't say that." He comforted her gently, then glared at me. "Are you happy now, Alicia?"

His voice turned cold and cruel.

"The place beside me is reserved for Camila. Even if you came crawling back on your knees, begging for a shred of my attention, I wouldn't waste another glance on you."

In his arms, Camila gave me a triumphant smirk that only I could see.

Everything from three years ago came flooding back—my meticulously planned wedding, which became a backdrop for someone else; the agony in the sanatorium, the despair as drugs clouded my consciousness...

But this time was different.

I was no longer the Alicia who cried in the sanatorium.

"Don't flatter yourself," I sneered. "My fiancé is Rhys. Rhys Nelson. I don't think I have anything to regret."

Preston flinched, the contempt in his eyes instantly replaced by shock.

"Rhys?" he repeated, his voice trembling slightly. "You mean... Rhys Nelson, the CEO of Nelson Dynamics?"

Camila let out a sharp laugh.

"Alicia, have you lost your mind?" Camila shrieked. "Why would a top tycoon like Rhys Nelson want a woman cast out by high society?"

An outcast.

My heart clenched.

Only Preston knew that word.

When we first met, I'd hidden my true identity, playing the part of an outcast from a wealthy family with no one to turn to.

He had even told Camila that.

"Stop talking nonsense," Preston recovered, shaking his head with a mocking smirk. "Alicia, there's a limit to your lies."

"You don't believe me? Then watch. I'll have him come out and get me himself."

I tried to call Rhys, but the signal bar was empty.

Damn it. The resort had signal jammers enabled. To prevent corporate espionage, all communication signals in the area were blocked for the summit.

But I remained calm.

I fumbled with my phone, my heart sinking as I remembered it was new, purchased after I returned to the East Coast. The contact list was practically empty.

Seeing my predicament, Camila burst out laughing.

"Look, she can't even make a call. Alicia, your act is pretty pathetic, isn't it?"

She stepped forward, feigning sympathy.

"Alright. For old times' sake, the Hayes Corporation can still find a place for you. I don't mind offering a spot in my charity foundation to some poor thing."

Now that she had Preston's promise, she didn't even bother to pretend.

"Old times' sake?" I snorted. "What right do you have to mention that?"

Preston looked at me, his heart clearly filled with disappointment.

"Alicia, if you need help or have regrets, is it so hard to just bow your head to me?"

"I still don't understand. Was being Mrs. Hayes so important? Important enough to hold a grudge for three years?"

A grudge?

I couldn't believe my ears.

"I thought you would grow up, that you'd understand why I had to do what I did," he continued. "But you're still so childish."

His reasons? Locking me in a sanatorium? Torturing me with sedatives until I could barely think straight? Those were his reasons?

"You have no idea what I care about," I said in a low voice.

"Then what do you care about?" Preston asked impatiently. "Isn't it because I chose to take care of Camila instead of finishing our wedding?"

I looked at him and suddenly found it all hilarious.

Three years had passed, and he still didn't understand a thing.

The betrayal at the wedding cut deep, but what truly broke my heart was his mistrust and cruelty.

After his brother's death, his concern for Camila went far beyond the duties of a brother-in-law.

He had no idea how Camila had framed me, that all her "illnesses" were fabricated.

He certainly had no idea about the brutal treatment I endured in the sanatorium, all because Camila had secretly instructed the nurses to increase my medication.

"Forget it," I said, shaking my head. "It's pointless talking to you."

"See? Throwing a childish tantrum again," Camila sighed theatrically. Then she deliberately raised her hand, showing off the sparkling Hermès Birkin bag on her wrist. "Alicia, what do you think of this bag? It's a custom piece, one of only three in the world."

Her eyes were filled with pride, waiting for me to show jealousy.

I gave her a cold glance.

"Then you'd better treasure that bag. It's probably worth more than you."

"Although..."

I paused, giving her a disdainful look.

"On you, it just looks cheap."

"You!"

Her face flushed with anger, but with Preston there, she couldn't lash out.

So, she turned to him with red-rimmed eyes, feigning dizziness.

"You... how could you say that?" She clutched her chest, her body starting to sway. "I... I don't feel so well..."

Same old act.

"Camila!" Preston immediately steadied her. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing... it's just... Alicia's malice is so strong..." she said weakly. "My heart can't take it..."

Preston whipped around to face me, his eyes blazing with fury.

"Enough, Alicia! You're always like this! Do you have to push her until she has a heart attack?"

"I didn't do anything."

"Your very presence sets her off!" he roared. "You're the reason she had a heart attack three years ago!"

I took a deep breath.