No one had ever informed me about this.

I glanced at the smug look on Ryan Morgan’s face, and in an instant, I understood everything.

“Claire, I’ve heard that many people, in order to climb to the top, will think of all kinds of ways to attract the attention of the wealthy. Could it be that he wants to…”

Ryan trailed off, tears streaming down his face as he spoke.

Claire Morgan would never allow Ryan to suffer such humiliation.

She shot me a look full of disgust, then wrapped her arms even tighter around Ryan’s waist.

“In that case, I’ll have someone give him ninety-nine slaps. Consider it a celebration of us getting our marriage license.”

Hearing her words, my eyes flew wide open.

“Claire Morgan!”

But before I could even finish shouting her name, the bodyguards hiding in the shadows rushed out.

A slap landed so hard it made my head spin.

Smack!

Smack!

Each strike was louder than the last.

It wasn’t until blood seeped from the corner of my mouth and I was about to lose consciousness that they finally stopped.

Even though my headpiece had fallen off, leaving only smears of melted greasepaint on my face, Claire still didn’t recognize me.

She looked down at me from above, her eyes full of contempt and loathing.

“People should know their place. Don’t dream of reaching a class that isn’t yours. Consider today a little lesson—if you dare to harbor such foolish hopes again, you won’t be so lucky next time!”

She finished speaking, lifted the high heel pressed on me, and kicked me hard.

Watching the two of them walk away arm in arm, I suddenly laughed and spat out a mouthful of blood.

Claire Morgan, perhaps the most foolish, wishful dream I’ve ever had was to see the day you’d fall in love with me…

Claire had all the haunted house surveillance from that day destroyed.

But she didn’t know—I had already backed up every single video.

I sat on the couch, torturing myself by replaying over and over the footage of their lips and breaths entwined.

Finally, I pressed a hand to my chest.

It turned out that the heart which had once pounded so fiercely had already grown numb.

Before switching off my phone, I dialed a number to New York.

“Miss Summers, hello. I agree to go to New York to ward off disaster for you.”

There was a moment of stunned silence on the other end, followed quickly by an ecstatic female voice.

“Great! I’ll send someone to San Francisco to pick you up right away! And I’ll transfer the ten million deposit to your account immediately!”

I paused. “Miss Summers, could you also arrange a private jet? I don’t want my travel plans leaked.”

If I wanted a clean break, there was no need to let unrelated people know my whereabouts.

But before I could hang up, Claire Morgan’s voice rang from the entryway.

“What do you mean, ‘don’t want your travel plans leaked’? Where are you going?”

Emily Summers, the little princess of the New York Summers family, had been told by a master that she would face a major calamity. To avert it, she needed to find someone whose birth chart perfectly complemented hers in yin, yang, and the five elements.

And I happened to be that person.

But I hadn’t told Claire. I only said I was going to inspect a branch company in secret.

Before she could think much of it, she caught sight of my badly swollen face and froze.

“Adrian Foster! What happened to your face? Did you get into a fight with someone?!”

Claire sat down beside me, reaching out as if to touch me but pulling back at the last second, afraid of hurting me.

The concern in her eyes wasn’t an act.

But I didn’t know whether she was worried about me—or about this face that so resembled Ryan Morgan’s.

When I was first sent to Claire’s side to take care of her, I had naively thought I was chosen by Margaret Morgan to be her live-in son-in-law.

But the moment Claire saw me, there had been emotions in her eyes I couldn’t understand.

After that, we dated like any ordinary couple.

Just when I loved Claire Morgan the most, a phone call from an unfamiliar number shattered all my dreams.

It was Ryan Morgan—the adopted son of the Morgan family, Claire’s younger brother with no blood relation to her.

He told me that he was Claire’s true love.

Even her so-called frigidity, he said, was nothing but an excuse she made to keep herself pure for him.

That day, I lost control and stormed into Claire’s study.

It was a place she had strictly forbidden anyone to enter—inside, it was filled with countless photos of Ryan Morgan…

So from the very beginning, I had only been a stand-in she kept by her side.

And on that day, I finally understood the look in Claire’s eyes the very first time we met.

“Adrian, does your face hurt so much you can’t speak?”

Claire leaned in, trying to examine the injury on my face.

She carried the scent of someone who had just been intimate, making my stomach churn in disgust. I frowned and dodged her touch.

She thought I was angry because she had come home late, and braced her hands on either side of me, trapping me in her arms.

“Adrian, I have some good news for you…”

The distance between us shrank.

Finally, just as her red lips were about to touch mine, I couldn’t hold it back any longer and retched.

The wound at the corner of my mouth tore open again, blood flowing freely.

Startled, Claire rushed to the bedroom to fetch the first aid kit.

She dipped a cotton swab in iodine and began gently tending to my wound, her face full of concern and guilt.

“If I find out who dared to hurt you like this, I’ll make sure they pay!”

Hearing her words, I couldn’t help but let out a cold laugh.

“Even if it was Ryan Morgan, would you still take my side?”

“Adrian Foster, how many times have I told you? Ryan is just my little brother…”

Her reply was impatient and without a shred of hesitation.

All lies fell apart instantly when Ryan’s name was involved.

I said nothing more, just stood and started toward the stairs.

Claire moved as if to grab me, but a ringing phone interrupted her.

When she answered, I caught a glimpse of the screen flashing the word “Husband.”

I didn’t know what was said on the other end, but Claire’s expression instantly turned anxious. She responded with several hurried “Alright”s before pulling me toward the door.

“Adrian, my mom just found out Ryan is back. She’s had someone take him to the old family estate. You need to come with me now to put her at ease, or I’m afraid the people there might use the family’s disciplinary methods on him—he wouldn’t be able to withstand it!”

When she failed to budge me after several tries, a trace of anger appeared on her face.

“You’re not still jealous, are you?”

“I’ve told you so many times—I was late today because I was working overtime. It has nothing to do with Ryan!”

Her scolding, like always, came down on me like a torrential downpour.

No matter how good she could be to me at other times, when it came to Ryan Morgan, everyone else had to step aside.

I let out a cold laugh and suddenly flung her hand away.

“When Ryan loses a single strand of hair, you’re ready to fly overseas for him. Are you seriously telling me you didn’t know about something as big as him coming back to the country?”

Ever since I learned that her heart belonged to someone else, I had kept my feelings in check and put myself in the right place.

All these years, I stayed silent, so Claire assumed I didn’t know.

Now, a flicker of guilt passed through her eyes.

But soon enough, she straightened with righteous confidence.

“Ryan has been an orphan since childhood, always living under someone else’s roof. I think of him as my own brother—what’s wrong with taking a little extra care of him?”

Hearing this, I could only find it laughable.

It seemed Claire Morgan had forgotten—I came from the exact same kind of background.

But just as I was about to speak, I caught sight of a condom packet half-slipped out of her coat pocket.

In that moment, I completely lost any interest in arguing with her.

Seeing me silent, Claire grew impatient.

“Fine, if it’ll make you happy, I’ll agree to your proposal this time and we’ll get married this year. Satisfied now?!”

A perfect two-birds-one-stone scheme.

I didn’t look at her again. I shoved past her and headed for the door.

From behind me, Claire shouted, demanding to know where I was going.

I let out a cold laugh, not breaking my stride.

“Weren’t you going to find your precious little brother? What’s wrong—suddenly not in a hurry?”

Good.

There was something I needed to return to Margaret Morgan personally…

As soon as I pulled open the passenger door, Claire tossed her phone into my lap.

Before I could ask, she spoke.

“I’ll drive—you watch Ryan’s location.”

I glanced down at her phone screen.

It was the couples’ tracking app I had begged her to use with me for ages, but she had always refused.

After I was kidnapped, she’d quickly started using it with Ryan instead.

“Don’t get the wrong idea—Ryan’s alone overseas…”

Before she could finish, I cut her off. “He’s about to be brought back to the Morgan estate. Just drive.”

We barely managed to intercept the Morgan family’s car when Claire rushed out.

Seeing her, the men didn’t dare act recklessly, and could only watch as she pulled Ryan out of the vehicle.

But before they could get back in, a taxi spun out of control and came straight at us.

Perhaps it was out of gratitude for the Morgan family’s past kindness, or maybe just because I had gotten used to protecting Claire over the years—but I grabbed her, trying to drag her to safety.

Unexpectedly, she jerked free and threw herself toward Ryan instead.

The next second, someone gave me a vicious shove.

Then came the blinding pain and Ryan Morgan’s triumphant smile—

the last thing I saw before losing consciousness.

When I awoke, Claire was nowhere to be found—only Margaret Morgan sat by my bedside.

Seeing me open my eyes, she quickly called the doctor over.

The hospital room door opened and closed as a steady stream of chatter and envy drifted in from the hall.

“Oh my God, the couple on the eighth floor is so in love! That guy’s wife treats him way too well.”

“Right? The guy just has a little scratch, and Mrs. Morgan’s been neglecting the company, feeding him and caring for him day and night.”

“Lucky bastard… why can’t I find a wife like that?”

My expression didn’t change, but Margaret could no longer sit still.

She strode out, her usual poise gone, and snapped at the onlookers:

“That man on the eighth floor is just a homewrecker! What, you all want to be someone else’s mistress too?!”

“Let it go, Mrs. Morgan…”

After all, if we were being honest, I might now be the one considered the “other man.”

At that, Margaret quickly returned to my bedside.

“Adrian, Claire does care about you—she’s just lost her head for the moment…”

Eight years together, even if it had been an act, I knew I had made my way into Claire’s heart.

But compared to Ryan Morgan, I hardly mattered.

And I didn’t want to be with someone who hadn’t cleared a space in her heart for me.

Before I could respond, Claire’s call came through.

“Adrian Foster! If you’re awake, get over here and apologize to Ryan right now—or don’t blame me if I break up with you!”