"Relax, sweetheart. Just be a good girl and take care of me. Don't worry—I'm not a complicated guy. Never bother with protection, hahaha..."

In the depths of my despair, a deafening crash erupted from outside.

The metal shutter was forced open, and people stormed in.

"Let her go!"

It was the police from the nearby station.

The café owner had kicked out all his customers so he could assault me in peace. But someone had seen him slip something into my drink and called the cops the moment they left.

They rushed me to the hospital to have my stomach pumped, took my statement, and left me with a thick coat.

I borrowed a charger from the front desk. The next morning, I called the calligraphy studio and resigned.

After that, I went to the mall next door, grabbed a cheap set of casual clothes, and headed for the airport to fly home.

But the second I stepped out of the mall, several of Neil's bodyguards blocked my path.

"Miss Henson, Mr. Sanchez is hosting a banquet at the Imperial Monarch Hotel today to celebrate his two-year anniversary with Secretary Cobb."

"He's specifically requested that you come and perform for Miss Cobb. If you'll follow us, please."

I frowned.

"Get out of my way, or I'm calling the police."

The lead bodyguard, George Whitney, let out a contemptuous laugh.

"Go ahead. We'll file a report of our own."

"Mr. Sanchez says that dress you burned yesterday was worth a hundred grand. That's enough to land you behind bars for a good while."

I laughed in disbelief. So this was the trap they'd been setting.

"A hundred grand? I'll wire it to him right now."

George snatched the phone from my hand and smashed it on the ground at my feet.

"The hell is wrong with you? Someone offers you an inch and you take a mile?"

"Without Mr. Sanchez, you couldn't even feed yourself. Who do you think you're fooling, acting all high and mighty? You two haven't even registered the marriage. You really think you're some CEO's wife?" He jerked his chin at the others. "Take her."

They dragged me into a car and sped off.

When we arrived, the entire banquet hall had been decorated to the nines.

Shirley, dripping in designer couture and jewels, hung on Neil's arm as they greeted guests together.

She looked every bit the role of his real wife.

The irony cut deep.

Neil had said he didn't want to make a fuss. So yesterday's wedding had been a bare-bones affair in a cheap little hotel, with only a handful of his personal friends in attendance. Most people in their social circle didn't even know the wedding had happened.

I'd understood. I knew how hard he'd worked to earn his money. Besides, once I brought him home to meet my family, we'd throw a proper celebration. Everyone would see the news coverage and know about us then.

So I hadn't minded.

But the Imperial Monarch was the most exclusive hotel in Capital City, operating on an elite membership system. Only those who met a certain threshold of wealth and status were even allowed through the doors. A single banquet here cost millions.

And he'd booked it for Shirley's anniversary party. He'd even invited the press.

When Neil spotted me, he walked over with a frown.

"The owner of the calligraphy studio said you quit. Said you're leaving town. Where do you think you're going?"

My voice was flat. "Home. To take care of my grandfather. Is that a problem?"

A smug, superior smile spread across his face.

"So you've finally figured it out. Without my protection, you can't survive in this city. Your only option is crawling back to the countryside to slop pigs."

"Tell you what. If you wash all of Shirley's underwear by hand in front of everyone here, I'll forgive you. Tomorrow, we go register the marriage like nothing happened."

He had his assistant bring out a small basket. There had to be at least a dozen pairs inside.

My entire life, my family had guarded these hands like they were made of glass. They'd never let me do so much as a household chore.

I stared at him in disbelief.

"Neil Sanchez, is your brain screwed on backwards? Every word out of your mouth is garbage."

"You two spent my wedding night kissing and sleeping together, and now you want me to wash her underwear?"

"Let me make one thing clear: even if you chopped Shirley Cobb into pieces and sold her by the pound, she still wouldn't be worth me lifting a finger!"

Neil's face went cold instantly.

"Who told you to humiliate Shirley in front of everyone yesterday? This is the compensation you owe her!"

"Drop the act. How much do you even make teaching calligraphy classes all day? I promised you the position of Mrs. Sanchez. Don't bite the hand that feeds you!"

"This is the anniversary gift Shirley wants most, and I'm going to give it to her!"

As he spoke, he pulled out a bamboo calligraphy brush and sneered.

"Kathryn, I believe this means a lot to you. Am I right?"

"If you don't want me to snap it in half right now, you'll do exactly as I say."

My fists clenched instantly.

That brush wasn't worth much money, but it was the last birthday gift my father ever gave me.

He'd made it with his own hands.

Shortly after that, he died in a car accident.

I drew a deep breath and forced the words through my teeth.

"Fine. I'll wash them."

Then I bent down and picked up the plastic basin they'd prepared, my expression blank.

"Can I go to the bathroom to fill this up now?"

Only then did Neil curl his lips in satisfaction.

"Good girl. Keep Shirley happy, and I'll give it back. I'll even restore your old lifestyle."

He posted his bodyguards at the door to make sure I couldn't run.

Water rushed from the faucet, reflecting my ice-cold eyes.

I pressed the hidden button on the back of my mechanical watch.

A faint crackle of static lasted two seconds before Denys Mason's voice came through, roguish yet tinged with something almost wounded.

"I thought you'd thrown that watch away. What's this about? Finally decided I'm not so bad after all?"

"Fair warning: if you're about to tell me you went and got a marriage license, I'm jumping off the nearest building. Try me."

My voice came out steady.

"No marriage license. We broke up. Now he wants me to wash his mistress's underwear in front of a crowd."

"If you still want this arrangement between us, don't make me waste my breath."

The other end went silent for half a second.

When Denys spoke again, the excitement and the lethal edge in his voice were almost tangible.

"The Imperial Monarch Hotel?"

"Sit tight. I'll make that bastard swallow every last pair."

I was brought back to Shirley.

Neil had his arm around her waist, his tone tender.

"Shirley, today, as long as you don't say stop, Kathryn will keep washing until you're satisfied."

"How do you like your present?"

"Oh my God, I love it! You're always so good to me, Mr. Sanchez!"

The two of them locked lips in a long, shameless kiss, as if no one else existed.

Shirley sauntered over to me with a beaming smile.

"So it turns out you didn't like barking like a dog, but you prefer doing this kind of thing? Wow. You're even trashier than I thought."

"You should've just said so. I've got plenty more at home. But wait, you're not planning to wash them standing up, are you?"

The moment the words left her mouth, Neil flicked his wrist in a signal.

The bodyguard behind me drove his foot into the back of my knee, forcing me to the ground.

Mocking laughter erupted from every direction.

"There we go. That's the proper position for getting things clean."

Shirley picked up a bottle of imported liquor with an elegant sweep of her hand, blinking innocently.

"The thing is, I'm a bit of a germaphobe. Someone as filthy as you really grosses me out. You won't mind if I use a little alcohol to disinfect you first, right?"

I didn't look at her. My gaze went past her, straight to the man behind her. My voice was level.

"Neil. Do I need to remind you that my skin is allergic to alcohol?"

"I'm only going to ask you once. Are you sure you want to go through with this?"

Something flickered across Neil's face. Hesitation.

Before he could open his mouth, Shirley's eyes rimmed red, her voice pitching into a wounded whimper.

"Mr. Sanchez, don't tell me you feel sorry for her. You promised you'd help me get my dignity back today."

"I'm just trying to teach your wife how to be a proper, clean homemaker. All she knows how to do is spend your money and throw jealous fits. How's a woman like that supposed to take care of you?"

"If you think I'm wrong, then just fire me. I'll leave and never come back, so I won't bother either of you ever again!"

Neil's expression melted instantly. He cupped her face and wiped her tears, then turned to me with a deep frown.

"Kathryn, a skin allergy isn't going to kill you. Just take some extra medicine."

"Shirley's right. You need to learn some manners. Other men's wives don't act the way you do. Some husbands keep a whole string of mistresses and their wives don't say a word."

"Be good. Stop upsetting Shirley, and I promise I'll keep my word about what I said earlier."

My heart went completely cold.

When Neil's first business venture fell through, he'd been scammed out of everything. Not only was he penniless, he was half a million dollars in debt.

I couldn't bear to watch him spiral into depression, lying awake night after night.

But I didn't want him to feel like I was handing him charity either, so I deliberately hid who I really was.

I told him I'd sold the apartment my parents left me as a wedding gift, used that money to pay off his debts, gave him the startup capital, and encouraged him to try again.

Then I asked one of my grandfather's most accomplished protégés to pose as a business mentor, tutoring Neil one-on-one in corporate management and how to survive in the business world.

After that, I quietly leveraged my family's network to pull in investors and partnerships behind the scenes, helping him claw his way back and break into Capital City's upper class.

And now, before he'd even fully secured his footing, he was already plotting to bite the hand that fed him and enjoy the company of another woman.

But in this world, people who betray someone's genuine devotion never come to a good end.

Shirley gleefully upended an entire bottle of liquor over my head.

The alcohol burned my eyes like acid, forcing out involuntary tears. My hair clung to my face in wet, reeking strands.

She poured five bottles in a row, making sure every inch of me was drenched before she finally stopped.

She watched my skin swell red with the allergic reaction, watched me clench my jaw against the searing sting and the fire spreading across my body.

Shirley smiled, satisfied. She bent down and whispered in my ear.

"Kathryn, I thought that mouth of yours was so sharp. What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?"

"You know as well as I do that Neil only cares about me now. All I have to do is say the word, and he'll make you drink that entire basin of underwear water."

"But if you get on your knees right now and knock your forehead on the floor a few times, beg me nicely, I'll let you off with just two-thirds of it. How does that sound?"

So this was payback for last night.

But if I caved that easily, I wouldn't be Kathryn Henson.

I seized a fistful of her hair and shoved her entire head straight into the basin of dirty water and underwear.

Shirley choked instantly, arms flailing, thrashing wildly, but she couldn't lift her head no matter how hard she tried.

The bodyguard wrenched me off her. She collapsed to the side, gagging and coughing, but didn't forget to wail between heaves.

"Neil! She's jealous because you chose to kiss me that night! She did this on purpose to get back at me!"

"If you don't punish her, I'll kill myself right now!"

Neil's face turned black as iron. He backhanded me so hard I crashed to the floor.

My forehead struck the corner of the table, and a warm rush of blood ran down my face.

"Kathryn, you really don't know when to quit! You don't like me having a mistress? Fine. Then I'll make you the mistress. You can become the very thing you despise!"

"Tomorrow I'm going to the courthouse with Shirley. She's far more obedient and forgiving than you'll ever be. She's more fit to be Mrs. Sanchez!"

"You like using your hands so much? Then I'll destroy them. Someone get over here and smash her fingers, one by one. Let's see if she ever dares touch Shirley again!"

I was pinned to the floor. Two heavy boots crushed down on my arms, locking them in place.

Shirley tossed aside the towel she'd been drying her face with and flashed me a victor's smile.

George walked over with a small iron hammer, lined it up with my fingers, and raised it high.

Just as the hammer was about to come crashing down, the banquet hall doors exploded inward with a deafening boom.

Denys Mason's face emerged into view—chiseled, striking, almost otherworldly in its perfection.

Behind him stood over a hundred former mercenaries in tight formation, disciplined and lethal. Every single one of them wore the Mason family's signature crest pinned to their lapels.

In the next instant, every person in the room shot to their feet, gasping in unison.

"Mr. Mason—what brings you here?!"