I manage to drag Jared Sheppard from death's door. Since then, I've accompanied him from his poorest times all the way to the current moment, when he's now worth tens of millions of dollars.

On the day his company goes public, he gets engaged to another woman.

"Gabrielle, she's different from you. She's an actual princess of the elite. I need to give her an official title, so I can't fool around with you anymore."

I never bothered defending myself. It's time for this farce to end, anyway.

After all, there's still a man waiting for me at home, who's been calling me his princess since I was a little girl.

I snatched the cigarette from Jared Sheppard's mouth and took a deep drag. This was a move we'd repeated countless times over the past ten years.

The mess stretched from the kitchen all the way to the bed. I often called Jared a wolf in sheep's clothing. He looked like a gentleman on the surface, but was absolutely feral when he was in bed.

I slowly blew out a ring of smoke and handed the remaining half of the cigarette back to him, but he refused it.

"Gabrielle, I'm done fooling around. I'm getting engaged tomorrow."

I flipped over and straddled him, the smile at the corner of my mouth impossible to suppress.

"Ten years, and you're finally ready to propose to me? Do it now. No need to make it so formal. I'll say yes—"

"It's not with you. She's not like you."

Our voices rang out at the same time.

Silence fell between us.

Jared picked up his phone and held it out in front of me. On the screen was a young woman smiling boldly and freely. She was dressed in clothes with no identifiable brands, yet one look told you that they cost a fortune.

"Rachel Speight," he said. "She's the daughter of one of our business partners. She's pretty, right? She's not like you. She doesn't need anything. She can just have fun with me without any concern or worries.

"She comes from a good family, and she's very innocent and pure. For my sake, she fought with her family for a long time. I have to give her a proper title."

He pulled the phone back and carefully caressed the screen. It was clear that he cherished this woman—so much so that he couldn't even bear to let me look at her for one extra second.

Pain stabbed through my chest.

This Rachel really was different from me.

I was calm, brooding, and always thinking three steps ahead. Every glance I took carried an agenda. And because of that, I'd helped Jared build his company from nothing to an empire worth one billion dollars.

Meanwhile, Rachel was bright and carefree. She was the type who never planned her next move.

Yet, I'd been the one who stayed by Jared's side for a full ten years. From the time he had nothing, I'd slept with him, drank with him, negotiated deals with him, risked my life with him, endured hardships with him, and schemed with him. I did more with him than a paid escort ever would.

I always thought he'd marry me. But now, he was telling me he'd just been fooling around.

My fingers that were pressed against his chest slowly tightened. All the composure I'd honed over the years finally shattered in front of him.

"Then what about me, Jared?"

He didn't say a word, merely grabbing my slender waist. I didn't say anything either and just wrapped my hands around his neck.

I kept tightening my grip, and his face went from fair to flushed. His cool, clear eyes narrowed slightly, tinged with a rare trace of desire.

This was the first time in years that I'd refused him.

He didn't seem bothered at all. Instead, he smiled lazily, a trace of mocking in his gaze. "Gabrielle Armstrong, don't tell me you've fallen in love with me? You know I hate trouble. I'll compensate you. Don't make a fuss.

"Be good. This is your last chance to call me Jared. If you don't, starting tomorrow, you can only call me Mr. Sheppard."

He brushed my earlobe, certain that I wouldn't actually hurt him.

When I stayed silent, he ruffled my hair, pulled up his pants, straightened his watch, and once again became the image of the perfect gentleman.

It was as if the entire room held nothing else but this mess—and me.

"Pack up your things. Leave the key in the flowerpot by the door. You don't need to come here anymore, Ms. Armstrong."

His voice was cold, and he left just as decisively. The sound of the door closing was heavier than usual.

I turned on my phone. On the screen was a photo of Jared and me together.

No long dresses, no jewelry.

Both of us were in suits, with perfectly measured smiles on our faces and gold-rimmed glasses on our noses. It looked like the "Employee of the Month" photos that hung in office hallways.

Jared was right. We really were very similar.

The last time I wore a dress was ten years ago. In these ten years, I seemed to have slowly turned into his shadow.

I looked around the room and suddenly felt tired of the suffocating darkness. With a sharp whoosh, I yanked the curtains open.

The glow of the sunset poured in.

I raised my hand. My skin, so pale it was almost translucent under the sun, looked as if it belonged to a vampire.

Leaning against the window, I lit another cigarette. Through the wisps of smoke, I seemed to see myself from ten years ago.

Back then, I wore dresses and was covered in glittering jewelry, shining brighter than the sun. I looked every bit the carefree little delinquent. Meanwhile, Jared was a critically ill patient, teetering on the edge of life and death.

We ate together and worked part-time jobs together.

In the hospital room that reeked of antiseptic, we ended up dating under the most absurd circumstances.

He complained about how noisy I was, yet before his final surgery, he stuffed his last ten dollars into my hand. The calm, always-controlled man held me and cried in an utterly miserable way.

"Gabrielle, if I make it off that operating table, I'll confess to you. And for the rest of my life, I'll love only you."

That day, he didn't wait for my answer before heading into the operating room.

I stood outside, laughing and crying at the same time. I never imagined that someone as strong and unyielding as him could also feel fear.

Later, when he came out of surgery, he used the first paycheck he ever earned to buy a diamond ring and confessed his love to me.

We cradled that ring while our stomachs growled with hunger.

Back then, that love was like a stubborn seed, taking root and sprouting amid starvation, carrying the scent of dirt and grit.

With unshakable certainty, he told me countless times, "Gabrielle, once I succeed and make it big, the first thing I'll do is marry you."

Now, his company was about to go public. He had succeeded.

But he was going to marry another woman.

I stayed up all night packing up everything in the house, but the physical exhaustion did nothing to quiet my thoughts. Memories of the past continued to race through my mind.

I couldn't even remember when I'd become so calm and restrained. Perhaps, just like loving Jared, it had quietly seeped into my being.

Jared's assistant, Michael Roarke, arrived very early. The baby-faced young lad looked unusually troubled.

"Gab—" he began, the word twisting on his tongue before he finally settled on "Ms. Armstrong."

"Mr. Sheppard asked me to give these to you. He said once you sign these papers, you should forget about everything that happened over the past few years. This is your compensation."

Michael opened the suitcase. Inside, stacks of cash were neatly bundled, and on the very top lay a document.

Jared had transferred the subsidiary company I'd been managing to my name.

"Mr. Sheppard said you should go to the subsidiary…"

His words trailed off, but I understood.

Jared was making me step aside for Rachel. He was afraid that a scheming, calculating woman like me would bully his innocent fiancee.

My fingers brushed over the documents, and a soft chuckle escaped me. I'd devoted ten years to him, even risking my life more than once. In the end, it was only worth this much.

As it turned out, I was barely worth anything to Jared.

"Take these back," I said calmly. "And pass along a message for me. Tell Mr. Sheppard that we'll just pretend nothing ever happened over these past few years. I'm done messing around, too."

Jared was right.

I was 19 years old when I first met him. Now, I was 29.

At 19, I'd panicked and run away from a love that burned too hot. But now, at 29, I suddenly wanted to go back and see if that person was still waiting for me.

"No, Gabrielle, I'm going with you!" Michael blurted, eyes reddening. "You saved my life. We've all discussed it. We'll only follow you—no one else! If the boss marries someone else, we'll all jump ship and go with you!"

I had indeed saved their lives. Back when we had nothing, they all saw me as their big sister, holding out empty bowls and staring at me hopefully.

I dragged them out of all kinds of hell and put them to work for Jared. I never expected them to remember it all these years later.

"Don't be impulsive," I said gently, trying to persuade him.

But Michael broke down, sobbing uncontrollably—until Jared walked in. In front of outsiders, Jared was always a man of few words. And just one cold, menacing glance from him was enough to silence Michael's sobs.

Finally, Jared's gaze landed on me. It was icy, as if he were looking at an enemy.

"Gabrielle, don't think you can stay by using such a tactic. Don't make me hate you. Whatever you want, I can give it to you."

I scoffed, arching my eyebrow at him. "I want your life. Can you give me that?"

We locked eyes, and his face flushed red.

I didn't know whether he recalled that it was me who had knelt and begged before the hospital director. I was the one who had gotten him a chance at surgery.

This life of his had been given by me.

Now, he was using that very life to betray me.

"So this is what they mean by turning someone's goodwill against them," a voice chimed in before its owner even appeared.

That pampered, smug tone was enough for me to picture the woman immediately.

Rachel stepped out from behind the door, draped in jewelry, shining brighter than the sun.

"I know you, Gabrielle Armstrong. Old-fashioned women like you, trying to secure a position just because you've spent ten years with someone… Don't you think that's putting people in a difficult spot?"

She looked me up and down with open disdain.

I looked back at her. She really did resemble me from ten years ago, looking like a person who would braid diamonds in their hair if they could.

Everything about her screamed exquisite refinement. And there was an air of recklessness and fearlessness about her, too, tinged with a faint trace of stupidity.

"Jared, she probably doesn't even know whether to kiss you first or take off her clothes and get into bed, does she? She's basically a kid. How could you even bring yourself to be with her?"

Before I could finish, Jared had already covered Rachel's ears and pulled her into his arms protectively. His face darkened, and his voice turned even colder.

"She's not like you. She's not someone who's messed around. I'd never touch her before we get married."

Jared had once said that I was different, too. That kind of hands-on favoritism used to belong to me and me alone.

Now, it had become the knife stabbing into me.

I had never truly understood what it meant for a heart to shatter in just one second. But at this moment, I felt it. All emotion faded into nothingness, and not even a ripple remained. A dull, numbing ache spread from the depths of my heart to the rest of my body, inch by inch, until every part of me was in pain.

I stared at Jared for a long moment before pushing up the gold-rimmed glasses perched on my nose. This ten-year-long habit allowed me to force out a faint smile even at the peak of the pain.

"You're right, Mr. Sheppard. But I have no interest in any of these things. When I came here, I came alone and with nothing. And now that I'm leaving, I can leave empty-handed, too. I don't want anything. Let's just pretend all of this was just a game."

I grabbed my suitcase and walked past him.

Jared suddenly grabbed my hand. "Don't be upset with me."

But before I could say anything, Rachel, who'd been standing there the whole time, let out a petulant huff. She stomped her foot and turned around, pouting. She didn't even need to say a word before the hand that had been gripping mine loosened gradually.

Jared lowered himself to cajole her, not even caring about his pride in front of his friends.

Years of experience made me keenly aware that someone had investigated Jared, but I no longer had any reason to warn him.

Michael ran after me to see me out, still cursing Jared under his breath.

Two sharp honks cut him off.

"Princess, I'm here to take you home."

My hand suddenly felt light. Someone had taken my suitcase from my grasp.

Knox Ferris nodded at me, then flashed a beaming smile, his teeth bright and white. Submission and wildness clashed violently within him. Beneath the restraint of his suit, a forced civility caged something feral—wild, surging, alive.

That devastatingly beautiful, almost androgynous face turned both burning and docile the moment he saw me.

And in his eyes, I saw hostility.

"Mr. Sheppard," he said calmly. "One more step, and you'll be crossing the line."

He slowly straightened his spine, enveloping me in his shadow.

I followed his gaze, only then noticing that Jared had rushed after me.

The two men locked eyes. It felt as if in the next second, primal instinct would take over, and they'd tear each other apart.

Knox and I got into the car.

In the rearview mirror, Jared stood there dazed, engulfed in exhaust fumes.

Knox always drove very fast, but whenever he was driving me, the ride would always be smooth and steady. He turned the music down and kept glancing at the rearview mirror.

"Princess," he said softly. "You're not going to abandon me again this time, are you?"

I didn't answer him. I just turned my head and studied him.

I hadn't seen him in ten years. His hair was still that same half-long, half-short length, sticking up a little in places. Those usually sharp, ruthless-looking eyes were now blinking at me, making him look kind of cute.

I couldn't even reconcile him with the boy who'd once clung to me, crying and begging me not to leave.

Knox had been sent to my family when he was a kid.

When I went bird-nest raiding, he'd bring the ladder. When I cursed someone out, he'd hand me the knife. When I skipped school, he'd take the scolding for me.

We grew up together. And the day I was told I was supposed to marry him, I completely lost it.

Who could accept marrying someone—being lifelong partners—when that person knew every single embarrassing thing about them?

There were just some boundaries that shouldn't be crossed.

Without a second thought, I ran to find him, thinking he'd stand with me like always. Instead, I found out that he was a shameless boundary-crosser.

In the bedroom he'd always forbidden me from entering, I found photos of me covering the walls. And he just stood there, motionless, staring at them, a dark flush spreading across his face.

"Knox Ferris!"

I'd only shouted his name once, but his whole body shuddered, his legs nearly giving out beneath him.

I saw every part of him that day.

I was 19 years old that year—still at the age where I felt awkward and shy. He, on the other hand, was like a seasoned veteran at 19, far more experienced at losing control.

Morning, noon, and night, he went crazy over me, like a dog wagging his tail nonstop.

Finally, I couldn't stand the heat of his devotion anymore. I grabbed my suitcase and fled from Wolmere to Sunridge.

For a full ten years, I knew he'd been watching me from the shadows. Yet the feral dog never once made a sound.

Knox turned the wheel and pulled into the driveway of a house.

I was stunned for a second. I hadn't expected him to live this close to me.

"Princess, all of this is territory I've claimed for you."

He parked the car and leaned his handsome face close to mine, his eyes sparkling. His expression screamed, "As long as my territory's big enough, you'll stay by my side."

I really couldn't stand the slightly dumb expression on his face, and I stepped out of the car. But the corner of my lips curled into a smile against my will.

I walked into the house, with Knox following behind me, talking nonstop about everything he'd done over the past ten years.

Unable to take his endless yapping, I grabbed him by the collar and shoved him down onto the bed. But he flipped us over in an instant, pinning me beneath him instead.

Through the thin fabric, his body heat scorched every inch of my skin. He stayed perfectly still, but his eyes grew brighter and brighter.

When he finally spoke, even his voice was hoarse. "Princess, please, just give me a chance, okay? Just once? Please, I'm begging you… Don't hate me."