Rupert looked at me with genuine gratitude.

“Brother Atticus, thank you for accepting me and the child. I’ll always be grateful…”

I had no patience for his empty words and turned sharply to Dione.

“No need. We won’t live together. I’ve got the keepsake. Now give me the house code, I’ll hire movers to clear out my things.”

Dione rattled off a string of numbers, her eyes burning with scorn. “So much drama, but in the end, you’ll just crawl right back.”

Rupert tugged nervously at her sleeve. “Dione, the room…”

Her eyes flickered, and she dragged Rupert along to my car.

“I’m coming with you. Just to make sure you don’t take the wrong things.”

When we arrived home, everything clicked. Why had Dione insisted on tagging along?

The sofa was strewn with torn scraps of a male servant’s uniform.

The dining table was decorated with heart-shaped candles.

The bedroom was heavy with the seductive scent of vanilla, and the wardrobe was lined with rows of delicate lingerie.

These days, I have been caught up in my father’s funeral arrangements.

I rarely came home.

Meanwhile, Dione, heavy with child, and Rupert clearly indulged themselves without restraint.

I went down to the garage and noticed several luxury cars were missing.

A few designer watches had vanished from the walk-in closet shelves.

Rupert followed behind me, wearing a smug grin. “Brother Atticus, missing something?”

He was eager to see me lose my cool.

But I only gave a faint, cold smile.

“A freeloader will always be a freeloader, only good for petty theft.”

“You—!”

Rupert’s fury flashed in his eyes, sharp and vicious.

Then suddenly, he gasped, slapped himself hard across the face, and dropped to his knees.

“Brother Atticus, you can hit me all you want! Just don’t hurt Dione…”

Dione rushed in and helped him up.

Her anger blazed as she slapped me hard across the face.

“Atticus, you’ve been a rich young master for too long, you’re insufferable!”

She didn’t hold back at all. My cheek swelled instantly.

Pain throbbed in my temples, and fury bubbled close to the surface.

“Dione! Are you blind?”

She dragged me out of the closet and slammed her boot hard into my injured leg.

“Get out! Go back to your family! Come back only when you know you’re wrong!”

My anger slowly dissolved into bitter helplessness.

Burning with rage, I lifted my foot and struck Rupert across the face.

Dione’s eyes blazed as she raised her hand to strike me again.

I grit my teeth and catch her wrist firmly.

“That one was mine.”

I turned away, eyes stinging with fresh tears, retreating like a coward.

Outside, rain poured down in a relentless, drenching stream.

I curled up on the cold ground, feeling humiliated.

After what felt like an eternity, the rain finally stopped falling on me.

Turning my head, I saw Rhea had arrived some time ago, holding an umbrella, shielding me all along.

She reached out her hand, her voice trembling with undeniable heartache.

“Atticus, let me take you home.”

Back at the Langston residence, I stared at the familiar courtyard and the familiar butler, memories flooding my mind.

Rhea’s father and mine had once been fierce rivals in the business, and early on, they had arranged a childhood engagement for us.

But back then, I often clashed with my father, and by extension, I resented Uncle Alfonso and young Rhea.

After middle school, I left for the UK to study business management while Rhea was sent to Milan to pursue art.

More than ten years later, we crossed paths again at my father’s funeral.

As I sat there, lost in thought, Rhea’s mother approached, carrying a bowl of ginger soup.

She touched my forehead gently, her worry and tenderness unmistakable.

“This girl Rhea, really! Letting you stand out in the rain like that. I’ll have a serious word with her later!”

“Mom?” I asked, confused.

Rhea glanced away awkwardly, clearing her throat twice. “I’ll go find you some clean clothes.”

After she left, Auntie Fiora smiled warmly as she handed me the ginger soup. “Rhea already told us, you two are getting married soon, so you might as well call me Mom.”

“Oh, I’ve waited for this day for so long. We’ll stick to the date your father picked before he passed. Nothing will change it.”

The date my father had chosen was next month.

It had originally been set for my wedding to Dione.

The ginger soup seeped warmth through my body. At that moment, I couldn’t stop the sting in my eyes.

The next day, Rhea arrived with everything we’d need for the wedding and made me go through each item carefully.

At first, I thought with such short notice, there wouldn’t be enough time to prepare, and maybe she’d have to settle for the old plan we had made before.

But to my surprise, Rhea had already prepared everything. There wasn’t a single thing left for me to worry about.

In wealthy families, marriages rarely came down to personal choice.

This was a political alliance, yet she carried it with such earnest care.

As for Dione, we had dated for five years, but if I hadn’t pushed for marriage, she never would have wanted it.

Every tiny detail of that wedding had been planned and managed by me alone.

Love or no love, the contrast couldn’t have been clearer.

Thinking about that, I called the original wedding planner and canceled the entire event.

No sooner had I done that than I got a call from Dione’s father.

“Atticus, has your brain completely melted? Throwing a tantrum one moment and canceling the wedding the next?”

“What on earth did Dione do to rile you up now? Can’t you just tolerate her a little and coax her? You’re a spoiled young master with a bad temper, only our Dione would marry someone like you.”

No one in the Silva family ever really liked me.

I used to think her mother was sharp-tongued but soft-hearted, that deep down she cared.

That was until I heard what Dione said at the postpartum center.

Thinking of that, I replied calmly, “Uncle, Dione and I have broken up. Naturally, the wedding should be canceled.”

“Broken up? What did you do to upset her this time? Then apologize! You’re a man, can’t even soothe your own fiancée? In the future—”

I didn’t want to hear any more of his nagging and hung up the phone.

The next day, I went with Rhea to a bridal shop to try on wedding outfits.

Halfway through, she got a call for a video meeting and told me to go ahead and try things on first.

I slipped into the suit Rhea had specially flown in from Italy.

Standing before the mirror, I smiled.

A sound came from behind me. I turned with a grin and asked, “Do I look good?”

A flicker of surprise flashed in Dione’s eyes.

I forced my smile to fade, and that’s when I saw Rupert step out of another changing room.

Dione’s face darkened instantly. She stepped forward and yanked my tie off in one sharp tug.

“Oh really? You said you weren’t getting married, yet here you are sneaking off to try on wedding clothes. Playing hard to get, huh?”

Her grip was rough, the tie chafing my neck red. I frowned and let out a sharp, pained sound.

“Dione, can you stop flattering yourself for once?”

Rupert looked offended and added fuel to the fire.

“Brother Atticus, I never planned to marry Dione. I just wanted a wedding photo for keepsake.”

Dione laughed coldly. “Why bother explaining to a guy like this? Atticus, I thought you were just fussy, but I gave in again and again because I loved you. I never imagined you could be so selfish, canceling our wedding like it was nothing.”

“Fine! If you won’t marry me, then forget it!”

After saying that, she kicked my suit, trying to shove me out of the shop.

Just as the bodyguards moved to pin me down and pull off my trousers in front of everyone, Rhea arrived just in time, accompanied by her own guards, who quickly restrained Dione.

“My husband is trying on a suit, and you, a so-called ex-wife who should’ve disappeared long ago, really know how to make a scene.”