In the seventh year of my engagement to Declan Ramsey, he was busy fulfilling the one condition required to unlock his family's multi-billion-dollar trust fund: having a child with his late brother's fiancée, Hazel Vance.

Whenever he returned from Hazel's room, reeking of her perfume, he would whisper in my ear.

"Just a little longer, Gillian. Once she's pregnant, we'll have our wedding."

In those six months, Declan went to Hazel's room fifty-two times.

Finally, I received the news of Hazel's pregnancy. But with it came rumors that they were getting married.

I glanced at the champagne-colored roses the staff were arranging for the wedding, pulled my son Julian into my arms, and whispered,

"Yes, Julian. Your father is going to marry the woman he loves. It's time for us to go home."

What Declan didn't know was that the women of my Lumina community never grovel for a man's love.

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1

After tucking my son Julian into bed, I opened my phone and booked a flight back to Portland.

Unfortunately, with the holidays approaching, tickets were scarce. The earliest flight was seven days away.

I stared at the date on the screen, frozen.

February 14th. Valentine's Day. It was also the seventh anniversary of my engagement to my fiancé, Declan Ramsey.

How cruelly ironic.

A bitter smile touched my lips. Maybe it's for the best, I thought. We began on this day; it's only fitting we end on it, too.

A rich scent of tuberose enveloped me from behind, followed by Declan's gentle voice murmuring just above my head. "What are you looking at, Gillian?"

I instinctively locked my phone screen and said nonchalantly, "Just some new perfume formulas."

In just six months, Hazel Vance's signature tuberose perfume had seeped into every inch of Declan's being.

I pushed him away, a wave of disgust rolling through me. "Go take a shower."

Declan sniffed at his shirt, his arms falling away awkwardly. "Right, I'll go now... I'm sorry, Gillian. I know I've been neglecting you. I promise, I won't go over to Hazel's for the next few days."

Hazel.

The way he said her name... so intimate.

At first, he would use her full name. Now, he couldn't even be bothered with the pretense.

To any outsider, Hazel might as well have been his actual fiancée.

The bathroom door opened, and Declan emerged with only a bath towel wrapped around his waist. His body was lean and toned, making him look dangerously handsome, far younger than his years.

For a dizzying moment, I saw a flash of the man from seven years ago—the one who’d scrambled through the window of my Portland apartment, still damp from the morning mist. Back then, he was so full of life, proudly declaring to the world, "Gillian, from this day on, you're mine. Let's spend the rest of our lives together—just the two of us."

He caught my gaze, and the corner of his mouth quirked up as he pulled me into his arms.

"I'm not going anywhere tonight, Gillian. I'm staying with you."

The fresh scent of his citrus body wash mingled with the tuberose fragrance that clung stubbornly to his skin, a combination so nauseating I had to shut my eyes.

The man I fell in love with was gone.

Just then, a series of urgent knocks on the door shattered the quiet.

"Mr. Ramsey! Miss Vance isn't feeling well, please come quickly!"

The tenderness on Declan's face vanished, replaced instantly by a mask of worry. He hastily threw on his clothes and rushed toward the door.

"What's wrong with her? Has the family doctor seen her?"

He took a few steps, then suddenly turned back, his gaze apologetic as he looked at me leaning against the doorframe.

"Hazel's not well. I have to check on her. You know, since my brother passed away, she has no one else."

"I'll be back soon. Thank you, Gillian. You're always so kind and understanding."

Kind and understanding? I must have heard those exact words fifty-two times in the last six months.

The moment he turned to leave, I called out to him. "Declan Ramsey."

He frowned, words of comfort already on his lips. But when he felt a weight settle on his shoulders, he swallowed them.

I had just draped a cashmere sweater over him.

"There's a sea fog rolling in. It's getting cold."

He clutched the sweater, his expression flickering with something unreadable. "Gillian, you..."

Before he could process it, I shut the door in his face.

I only had to wait seven more days. After that, my waiting would be over.

As I'd expected, Declan never came home. When I reached for him in the night, my hand met only the cold, empty space where he should have been. A familiar ache seized my chest.

A series of rapid, increasingly heavy knocks sounded at the door.

I opened it to the butler, Mr. Peterson. His gaze swept over me with thinly veiled disdain.

"The matriarch, Mrs. Ramsey, requests your presence at the manor. Bring the child."

Declan's grandmother, Genevieve Ramsey, had never liked me. No matter how hard I tried to please her, she saw me as a woman of questionable character and despised my son, Julian, just as much. Following her lead, the entire manor staff treated us with a cold, biting disdain.

When I arrived at the Ramsey Manor, I found the entire family gathered.

Declan, who had been gone all night, was holding Hazel, gazing at her tenderly, his eyes brimming with an affection I hadn't seen in years.

Genevieve was beaming at Hazel's belly, a triumphant smile spreading across her face. The sight of it was a physical sting.

"Now that Hazel is finally pregnant, and all our relatives are here today, it's time to honor the agreement we made six months ago!"

The family's patriarch, Alistair Ramsey, then stood and formally declared Declan the sole beneficiary of the Ramsey family trust.

"And since we're about to welcome a new heir, it's time to start planning the wedding."

I looked up and saw that every eye in the room was fixed on Hazel.

Declan's hand rested on her stomach, his voice thick with emotion as he murmured, "I'm going to be a father..."

Not 'again,' I thought, the bitterness rising in my throat. Just... a father.

I swallowed hard, my grip on Julian's hand unconsciously tightening.

In the silent hall, Julian suddenly whimpered, "Mommy, that hurts."

I quickly let go, only to see his small hand was already red.

"I'm sorry, Julian. Here, let Mommy kiss it better..."

Julian's whimper drew everyone's attention, their gazes a mixture of scrutiny and open displeasure.

Alistair frowned. "If news gets out that the heir to the Ramsey family has an illegitimate child, it will damage the company's stock price."

Declan's mother, Eleanor Ramsey, let out a cold snort. "We'll simply tell the public the boy is an art student the family is sponsoring out of charity."

Eleanor disliked me, and she disliked Julian even more. She had orchestrated this entire arrangement for Declan and Hazel to produce a proper heir. With Hazel pregnant, Julian had become an inconvenient stain.

Declan let go of Hazel. "Mom, that's too much."

He started toward me, but Hazel’s hand on his arm stopped him short.

I watched her subtle victory, then squared my shoulders and walked up to Eleanor. "I understand," I said, my voice cold. "From this day forward, Julian is no longer Declan's son."

Then I knelt in front of Julian, my eyes burning, and told him, "Julian, from now on, you can't call him 'Daddy' anymore, okay? You can only call him 'Uncle Declan'."

Declan stared at me in shock. He knew Julian was the only reason I had tolerated his family for so long.

Julian didn't understand and began to cry in confusion. I picked him up to leave, but Hazel blocked our path.

"Gillian," she began, her voice dripping with false sweetness, "I heard agarwood is wonderfully calming for pregnant women. Declan has been searching for some for days, with no luck. Then I remembered... that gorgeous bracelet on your wrist."

"Can you give it to me?"

I looked directly at Declan. "Is this your idea too, Declan Ramsey?"

As she tilted her head, I saw it—a dark cluster of bruises on her neck, unmistakably a hickey. The sight sent a sharp, numbing pain through my chest.

This agarwood bracelet was Declan's engagement gift to me. We had picked out the raw material together at a spice expo in Seattle years ago. On our engagement day, he had personally polished and strung the beads, placing it on my wrist and promising we'd be together forever.

I knew Hazel had coveted it for a long time, but Declan had always refused her.

This time, however, he just averted his eyes, calculation and guilt warring in his expression.

"If you're not willing—"

"Fine."

With a short, harsh laugh, I unfastened the bracelet and held it out. I watched as Hazel slid it onto her own wrist, her face glowing with triumph, and offered a tight, polite smile. "It looks perfect on you."

Then, under Declan's bewildered stare, I left the manor with Julian in my arms.

Back at our villa, Julian was still crying softly. My own heart aching, I knelt and asked him, "Julian, do you want to leave this place with Mommy?"

He cried even harder. "Can't we stay, Mommy?"

"But Julian, if we stay, your father won't be happy. Do you really want to call him 'Uncle Declan' for the rest of your life?" I looked at him gently, holding back my own tears.

Julian clutched the box of LEGO bricks in his arms, a birthday gift from Declan last year.

"Mommy, can I celebrate my birthday with Daddy one more time? Just one last time, please?"

Looking at his pleading eyes, my resolve softened. I closed my eyes, pulled him into my arms, and nodded.

"Okay."

...

Julian's birthday was on February 12th. I made sure to remind Declan two days in advance, praying he would spend this last birthday with his son.

On the morning of his birthday, Julian changed into new clothes and asked me cautiously, "Mommy, Daddy will come back to celebrate with me, right?"

"Of course," I said, reassuring him as I sent a message to Declan.

"It's Julian's birthday today. Where are you?"

The message went unanswered. Silence.

Julian's hope slowly withered. He lowered his head, tightly gripping the ribbon on the cake box.

"Daddy's... not coming, is he?"

After a moment, he seemed to accept it. "It's okay. Uncle Declan is very busy. We shouldn't bother him. Let's cut the cake, Mommy."

It was the first time Julian had called Declan "Uncle" on his own.

He seemed to have finally accepted reality, but his forced smile couldn't hide the raw disappointment in his red-rimmed eyes.

Seeing Julian try so hard to be brave, a shard of ice-cold anger lodged itself in my chest.

I grabbed my phone, opened my chat with Declan, and was about to demand an explanation when a new message popped up.

It was from him.

"Come to the Ramsey Manor now."