Jasper's expression shifted. He scrambled to cover his neck with his hand, panic written across his face.

Hilda's look of pure disgust cut through him. He clutched his collar and snarled, "Do you really have to do this, Hilda?"

"I really am in a difficult position. Why won't you believe me?"

"It was just this once, I swear. It was an accident. It'll never happen again."

"I know you hate me, but you still have your grandma. Think about her, will you? I've been paying every cent of her medical bills. If we break up, what happens to her?"

"And I've wanted to bring you home to meet my family, I really have. But Hilda, people have hang-ups about death. How am I supposed to explain what you do for a living?"

"I'm under a lot of pressure too, but I've never once asked you to sacrifice anything for me, have I? Can't you at least try to understand?"

Half confession, half excuse. But Hilda could no longer tell the difference.

His voice sliced through her skull like a serrated blade, and the pain blurred her vision.

Jasper lost patience. He lunged forward and snatched her suitcase.

The sudden yank sent Hilda stumbling. Her vision went black, and her legs gave out beneath her.

She dreamed.

She dreamed of Jasper holding her hand as they skipped class to watch the sunset over the ocean, swearing in the perfect silence that he would love her for the rest of his life.

She dreamed of Jasper stepping in to fight off some thugs for her, getting hurt in the process, wincing through the pain while still telling her not to cry.

She dreamed of the Fairmonts discovering their relationship and dragging him home, locking him away. Jasper jumping from the fourth floor, shattering his leg, forcing his parents to relent.

And then she dreamed of Grandma Nora. The tiny old woman took her hand and said, Sweetheart, all I want is for you to be happy.

A shrill ringtone dragged her back.

An IV drip was taped to the back of her hand. Jasper was gone. A note on the nightstand said something had come up at the office.

She might have believed it, if not for the photo that had just arrived from an unknown number on her phone. A photo of a kiss.

When she answered the call, the other end stayed silent for a long time. Just as her patience was about to snap, a man's hoarse voice broke through.

"Is this Hilda Summers?"

His voice trembled, the words tumbling over each other.

"Hilda, hello. I saw your file at the doctor's office. I'm sorry for the intrusion, but there's something I need to confirm."

"Would you be willing to come in and take a paternity test with me?"

Even the expedited results would take at least two days.

The middle-aged man carried himself with an unmistakable air of wealth, yet he stood off to the side, fidgeting, opening his mouth and closing it again. Finally, all he managed was her name. "Hilda," he said, eyes rimming red. "That's a beautiful name."

With shaking hands, he reached into his breast pocket and produced a photograph. In it was a child, five or six years old.

He said the child had been wearing a small gold locket engraved with the family name when she went missing.

Hilda stared at the photograph for a long time, her thoughts tangling into knots.

Of course she'd seen that locket.

Grandma Nora had treasured it. It had paid for nearly half her schooling.

"This is insane," Hilda told her friend. "It feels like the first twenty-some years of my life were a lie, and now everything's been turned upside down."

They were sitting at a banquet. Hilda had tagged along on her friend's business trip, planning to check into a hospital to recover before dealing with everything else.

Her friend suggested, "Why don't you just ask your grandma what's going on?"

Hilda's hands went still.

Some things, once spoken aloud, had to be remembered all over again. And every time they were remembered, the grief came flooding back. Her fists clenched until her nails bit into her palms. She couldn't speak.

Her friend, oblivious, kept going. "I keep forgetting to ask. How's your grandma doing?"

"I heard she collapsed at Jasper's company that day. Is she okay?"

Hilda whipped around. "What did you just say?"

Her friend blinked. "You didn't know?"

"I was at Fairmont Group that day for a meeting. Your grandma was stopped at the front desk by some woman. The woman was pretty hostile, throwing around words like homewrecker. Then Jasper showed up."

"Their relationship..." Her friend studied Hilda's face carefully before continuing. "It seemed a little too close for comfort. Did Jasper ever mention her to you?"

"After I left, I heard your grandma had fainted. I went back to check but couldn't find her. Jasper was there, though, so I figured she was taken care of."

Her friend trailed off, startled by the look on Hilda's face.

"Hilda? Hilda, what's wrong? Why are you crying? Did something happen?"

Hilda shook her head. She bit down hard on her lip and pressed both hands over her face.

So Grandma had gone to see Jasper that day. She'd known everything.

How angry must she have been when she left? How heartbroken?

Hilda forced a smile at her friend, but in the next instant, a wave of grief so heavy it seemed to drag every feature of her face downward swallowed it whole.

She didn't even bother making an excuse. She stumbled to her feet and left the table, barely holding herself together.

Hilda's phone screen lit up, dimmed, lit up again. She stayed on Jasper's chat window, unable to scroll away.

There was so much she wanted to ask him.

Then, for no particular reason, her gaze drifted up, and she spotted Vivienne across the room.

Something compelled her to follow.

Vivienne wound through corridor after corridor until she emerged onto a terrace, where a man stood waiting with his back turned.

Hilda's breath caught.

"Jasper."

He swirled his wine glass and turned with a smile, meeting Vivienne's lips in a kiss.

Vivienne was all fire, coiling around him like a serpent, her body pressed so close that the heat between them was unmistakable.

The rustle of fabric, a woman's breathy whimpers, heavy breathing—all of it threaded into Hilda's ears.

"Between me and Hilda, who makes you feel better?"

"You. Obviously," Jasper murmured, his voice thick with want. "She's uptight and boring. She couldn't compare to you if she tried."

He kissed Vivienne's cheek, his tone dripping with intimacy. "You like that? Wife?"

The only answer was a pleased moan.

Hilda stood in the shadows, watching it all. Her face betrayed nothing.

Her eyes burned and throbbed. She drew one long breath, then dialed his number.

On the terrace, the two of them were tangled together, mouths locked, when the shrill ring cut through the air.

Neither looked pleased. When Jasper saw the caller ID, a flicker of panic crossed his face.

He glanced at Vivienne, then answered.

Hilda's voice came through low and even, stripped of any readable emotion. "Jasper, I forgive you. When are you coming home? I miss you."

Jasper froze. Instinctively, his eyes darted to Vivienne.

Vivienne pressed herself tighter against him on purpose. He let out a stifled groan and tightened his arm around her waist.

"Hilda, I'm busy right now. Let me call you back later and we'll talk properly, okay?"

"Are you with Vivienne?"

"Hilda." His voice dropped, firm and warning. "Stop overthinking. I'll be home tomorrow."

He hung up before she could respond, then scrambled to soothe Vivienne, who was already losing patience.

Hilda watched the scene from the dark and laughed—a short, hollow sound aimed at herself. She turned and walked away.

When she really thought about it, she didn't even have the standing to call this catching him in the act. Vivienne was Jasper's lawful wife.

Seven years she'd given him. And she was nothing.

Her head felt heavy, her steps aimless. Without realizing it, she'd climbed to the rooftop. Cold wind cut across her face as she tipped her head back and stared into the pitch-black sky for a long, long time.

It wasn't until the gala ended and the noise of departing guests drifted up that she snapped out of it. She turned around and found Vivienne standing behind her. She had no idea how long the woman had been there.

"Hello, Hilda." Vivienne strolled toward her, unhurried. "You know who I am, right? I'm Jasper's wife."

"This is the first time we've met face to face. I'm hoping it's also the last."

"What do you want?" Hilda's voice was ice.

Vivienne folded her arms and let out a light laugh. "Is it really that hard to figure out? I want you gone from Jasper's life. Completely. Stop clinging to him."

"You've got it backwards," Hilda said. "You'd be better off warning Jasper. He's the one who's married. Tell him to stop clinging to me."

Vivienne's eyes went wide, her voice turning shrill. "That's a lie!"

"I noticed you a while ago, actually. You were at the terrace too, weren't you? You saw exactly what Jasper and I were doing. Did you not understand?"

"That phone call you made was just you trying to win him back, wasn't it?"

Her gaze dropped to the necklace at Hilda's throat. It looked expensive. She assumed Jasper had given it to her. Her hand shot out, clawing toward Hilda's neck.

Hilda flinched, clutching the pendant. "What are you doing?!"

This necklace was a wedding gift Grandma had saved her entire life to buy. One for Hilda, one for Jasper. It was the only thing Grandma had left behind.

"Let me give you some advice, Hilda. What isn't yours will never be yours."

Vivienne lunged for the necklace without another word. In the struggle, Hilda was shoved toward the edge of the stairwell.

She teetered on the lip in her heels, barely holding on.

At the last possible second, Vivienne spotted a figure approaching. She swapped positions with Hilda in a flash, throwing herself backward.

The necklace was clenched in her fist. The chain bit into Hilda's throat, slicing a thin line of blood across her skin.

The necklace snapped apart and scattered across the floor in pieces.

A heavy thud. Hilda tumbled down the stairs. Vivienne, meanwhile, fell neatly into the arms of Jasper, who had appeared just in time. Not a scratch on her.

"Are you all right? What are you doing up here?"

Jasper's voice was all concern. He looked Vivienne over head to toe, and only when he confirmed she was unharmed did he exhale.

Then he turned on the figure crumpled at the bottom of the stairs, his tone sharp with contempt. "What's wrong with you? Can't you watch where you're going? Are you blind?"

Hilda lay where she'd landed, vision blackening, unable to move. Her hair was tangled across her face, hiding her features.

Jasper, irritated at being ignored, strode down the steps and planted his foot on her palm, grinding down. She curled inward instantly, trembling with pain.

"Are you deaf or mute? Can't speak?"

Vivienne hurried over and tugged at his arm.

"That's enough, Jasper. It was partly my fault. Don't make a fuss over her, please?"

She looked down at Hilda's shaking body, and a wave of satisfaction surged through her.

"I just thought the necklace on this young lady's neck was pretty and leaned in for a closer look. I must have startled her, and we bumped into each other. I'm so sorry."

"Jasper, let's just pay her for the necklace."

The shattered chain lay on the floor not far from their feet.

Jasper glanced at it and frowned. Something about it looked familiar, but he couldn't place it.

"It's worthless junk. She got in your way—she's the one who owes you an apology. The gala's wrapping up. Let's go."

Vivienne nodded with a demure little smile, and the two of them walked off together, chatting and laughing as they went.

Hilda lay on the cold floor, eyes hollow, still as a corpse.

It took her a long time to come back to herself. Slowly, she crawled forward and closed her fingers around the necklace.

The broken shards bit into her palm, blood welling between her fingers, but she didn't seem to feel it. She only squeezed tighter.

Hilda's mind had never been so clear.

Grief drove into her heart like a thousand needles, puncturing it full of holes, and pain seeped out in place of blood.

Her left hand, the one Jasper had stepped on, throbbed and swelled. The slightest twitch of her fingers sent agony shooting up her arm.

She stayed there for a long time before she managed to get to her feet. Then she limped toward the exit.

Taxi after taxi slowed down, took one look at her, and pulled away. No one would take her. So Hilda walked, one unsteady step at a time, still in her heels.

"Hilda, it really is you!"

A car screeched to a halt beside her. Jasper scrambled out, panic written across his face.

The necklace had been circling his mind for a while. The instant he placed it, cold sweat broke over his skin. He'd abandoned Vivienne on the spot and bolted.

Now his face was contorted with anguish as he cradled Hilda's swollen hand with excruciating care.

"I'm sorry, baby. I'm so sorry. I didn't know it was you."

"Does it still hurt? You're hurt this badly. Let me take you to the hospital, okay?"

His tears fell onto the battered skin of her palm.

"Why were you at tonight's gala? You should have told me. If you had, I never would've—"

"Never would've what?"

Hilda wrenched her hand free. "Don't touch me. You make me sick."

Jasper's breathing turned ragged. His expression crumbled, inch by inch.

"Families like mine, this is how it works. You know I don't have a choice. But no matter what happens, you're the only one I've ever loved!"

"Marriage is just a title. Everything with anyone else is fake. You're the only thing that's real."

As he spoke, he pulled a necklace from his pocket, identical to hers. "See? I carry it with me everywhere."

"Grandma wanted us to be happy together. Hilda, please don't be angry anymore."

Hilda held out her hand to him.

Joy surged through Jasper. He thought she'd softened. But the next second, the smile froze on his face.

"Jasper, give me back the necklace my grandmother gave you."

"It was something she left for me and the person I love. Seeing it in your hands now just makes me sick."

Jasper fought against it, clinging to her as he sank to his knees on the pavement, stripped of every shred of pride.

"Hilda, you're just saying that because you're angry, right? Hilda, you promised me. You promised you'd never break up with me."

"Please, I'm begging you, don't leave me."

But Hilda didn't flinch. A flash of revulsion crossed her face, and it cut through Jasper like a blade.

He'd been born with a silver spoon. He'd never wanted for anything his entire life. Women lined up at the crook of his finger. What Hilda had, countless others would kill for. Why couldn't she just let this go?

He shot to his feet, his voice dropping, edged with fury.

"Hilda, why can't you try to understand me?"

"You keep saying you want a wedding. Of course I want to give you one, but I can't! I have parents too. I have responsibilities!"

"I've already promised you that you're the only woman I'll ever love. Why won't you just believe me?"

Hilda didn't hear a word. Her voice was flat, mechanical. "Give it back."

Jasper's jaw clenched so tight the muscle twitched. He let out a cold laugh, then hurled the necklace into the busy road.

"No!"

Hilda screamed and lunged toward the traffic. Jasper yanked her back hard.

"Hilda, I'll say it again. I love you. I can give you everything except the title. If you won't think about yourself, at least think about your grandmother."

"I'll be waiting for your answer. Just say yes, and the wedding goes ahead next week as planned."

Then he got in his car and drove off without looking back.

Hilda was stubborn. She never backed down. He'd have to find another way to make her bend.

Jasper dialed his secretary.

"Cut off the medical funding. Transfer her grandmother to a standard ward. Don't do anything else unless I say so."

The secretary listened, confused. He'd been called away by a phone call from Vivienne the day the ambulance arrived and had no idea what had actually happened to Hilda's grandmother.

After a moment's thought, he picked up the phone and called the hospital.