She walked over and pulled me into her arms with a sigh.

"Adrian, I'm sorry. Has someone been running their mouth again? If it's too much for you, we can get a divorce."

She looked so heartbroken, so devoted.

I eased out of her embrace without letting anything show, staring hard into her eyes, searching for even a trace of genuine sorrow, searching for some sign that everything I'd given over the years had been worth something.

"Vivienne, I haven't done anything wrong. Why would you do this to me?"

She froze for a moment, then her eyes rimmed red with what looked like hurt.

"Adrian, I'm not a woman. I understand if you resent me for that. But I really don't want to leave you." Her voice cracked, and she buried her face against me, sobbing.

In that moment, I seemed to see the Vivienne from ten years ago.

Back then, she followed me everywhere, calling me her big brother, pressing the best pastries into my hands.

She even carried me on her back when we went hiking, all the way to the summit.

Under a sky blazing with stars, the girl's eyes shone brighter than any of them. She gripped my hand tight. "Big brother, I never want to leave you. Not in this lifetime. Can we stay together forever?"

Back then, I believed we would.

That changed the day Vivienne and I took a trip to the mountains and came across a fourteen-year-old boy named Caleb Fox.

Several men had him pinned to the ground, trying to haul him onto a flatbed truck. He was on his knees, thrashing, begging.

"Dad, please don't sell me. I can chop firewood. I can work the fields. I can earn money."

Tears cut streaks through the dirt caked on his dark face. His hair was a matted, brittle mess.

From the murmurs of the people gathered around, I pieced together the story: his own father was selling him to a sixty-year-old man to work as a cattle herder.

Pity seized me on the spot. I barked at the men until they backed off and pulled the boy behind me.

After a heated argument, Vivienne handed over all the money we'd budgeted for the trip to Caleb's father, freeing the boy. She promised to sponsor his education going forward.

I never expected that the day he graduated college, Caleb would show up in Riverport looking for Vivienne and plant himself at her side as her assistant.

He played the victim at every turn, acting meek and timid around me, as if I were the one bullying him.

More than once, Vivienne told me Caleb was easily frightened, that I shouldn't be so forceful when I spoke to him, that I needed to be gentler.

I assumed he was just someone who couldn't handle himself in polished company. It never occurred to me that every stumble, every flinch, was a carefully laid trap.

Then came my birthday. I offered him a glass of fruit wine, trying to be kind.

"Caleb, let me introduce you to some friends. You should hang out with them more."

He took two sips and immediately went whimpering to Vivienne, claiming he felt dizzy, claiming I'd forced him to drink.

Then he collapsed into her arms.

The look Vivienne gave me that night could have drawn blood. She said nothing. She just gathered Caleb up and carried him to the second floor.

When I found them, they were lying on the bed together, leaving nothing to the imagination.

I lost my mind. I screamed at Vivienne, demanded we call off the engagement.

In the end, after her desperate pleas and both sets of parents stepping in to mediate, I was naive enough to believe it was over.

What I didn't realize was that a seed of hatred had already taken root.

Vivienne decided I had humiliated her on purpose. And she set out to punish me for the rest of my life.

I lifted my hand and rested it on her head, a cold smirk pulling at my lips.

"Vivienne, if you had to choose between me and Caleb, which one of us would you not be able to let go?"

Panic flashed through her eyes.

"Adrian, why would you bring him up out of nowhere? Did someone say something to you?"

"I cut contact with him a long time ago. Don't overthink this."

I lowered my gaze, wiped the tears from my face, and stood up without a word.

"Nobody said anything."

"I was just feeling sentimental. If I hadn't let Caleb drink that night, maybe he'd still be your good little assistant."

Vivienne's expression visibly tensed. Her spine went rigid, and the words tumbled out before she could stop them.

"Adrian, how could I possibly keep him as an assistant forever? He was clumsy and useless. Why, did someone say something to you?"

I let out a dry laugh, bracing myself against the wall as I made my way slowly toward the bedroom. My hand was clenched around the phone, around the message Caleb had just sent me.

"Adrian, you want to know what Vivienne says about you? The great young master of the Caldwell family, worse in bed than a nightclub escort."

"Oh, and to prove her devotion to me, every time you stripped down and tried to seduce her, she made sure to video-call me. I figured I shouldn't let it go to waste, so I set up a livestream. Over a million viewers tuned in. Everyone agreed you really know how to put on a show."

Vivienne, if you betray me, I will never let it go. I will make sure you pay for every last thing.

I deleted every message in silence. No confrontation. No screaming.

Because I knew that if screaming solved problems, the king of the jungle wouldn't be the tiger. It would be the donkey.

The five-year partnership between our families reached its successful conclusion.

I deliberately chose Blueberry Manor and invited every friend, relative, and business partner to celebrate together.

That day, I prepared a special gift for Vivienne. She giggled and asked what it was.

A set of lingerie? Some new trick I'd learned?

I just smiled and told her it would be something she'd remember for the rest of her life.

Crystal chandeliers cast their light across the gala, glinting off champagne flutes raised in toast after toast. Vivienne took my arm, and together we walked onto the stage.

Fireworks burst above our heads, marking the success of the Caldwell-Ashford partnership.

I smiled, accepted the signed contract, and secured everything that belonged to the Caldwell family.

As thunderous applause filled the room, I took the microphone and swept my gaze across the crowd.

"Distinguished guests, dear friends and family, today isn't just the successful conclusion of the Caldwell-Ashford partnership. It also marks my fifth wedding anniversary with Vivienne."

"Tonight, I have a grand gift for her. And I'd like all of you to bear witness to the five years of devotion Vivienne has shown me."

As the applause died down, several bodyguards carried in two enormous crates, each wrapped in silk ribbon tied into an elegant bow.

I smiled and gently guided Vivienne toward the crates, gesturing for her to open them.

The entire room fell silent. Necks craned. Every eye fixed on those oversized crates, everyone wondering what extravagant gift could possibly be inside.

Vivienne beamed and pinched my cheek playfully. Then she reached for the latch, flipped it open, and threw back the lid with a sharp crack.

Under her stunned gaze, a man slowly rose from inside the crate. The instant he looked up and saw Vivienne standing before him, his face crumpled and he burst into tears, throwing himself into her arms.

"Babe, you scared me half to death! Didn't you tell me to bring our son back for the celebration?"

"We just got off the plane and someone shoved us into crates. You're so mean. You can't scare people like that!"

His tears turned to laughter as he wrapped his arms around Vivienne's neck.

Three seconds of dead silence.

Then the room erupted.

"What the hell is going on? Why is this man calling Vivienne his wife?"

"He brought their son? I thought Vivienne couldn't have children!"

The color drained from Vivienne's face. She spun around and threw open the second crate. Inside, her son lay with his eyes shut tight, sleeping soundly.

Vivienne lunged forward and scooped the child into her arms, calling his name over and over.

But the little boy only slumped against her shoulder, limp and motionless.

Panic seized her. She patted his back, shook him gently, then whipped her gaze toward me.

"Adrian, what did you do to Mason Fox?!"

I strode forward with a cold smile, my gaze cutting into her like a blade.

"Vivienne, why so nervous? Don't tell me this is your son."

I paused, letting the words sink in.

"Oh, right. I forgot. Our esteemed Ms. Ashford was in that terrible car accident. She probably couldn't have produced such an adorable child."

As I spoke, I dragged the edge of my fingernail lightly across the boy's cheek, leaving a thin red mark.

Vivienne froze. It took less than a second before she forced a smile through the panic written all over her face.

"Adrian, don't misunderstand. This child... this child is..."

For all her cunning, the great Ms. Ashford couldn't conjure a convincing excuse on the spot.

Then something seemed to click. She grabbed the boy and thrust him toward me.

"Adrian, this is Caleb's nephew. Caleb knew we couldn't have children, so out of gratitude for everything we've done for him, he offered the boy to us as our own son."

Her voice steadied as she spoke, growing almost buoyant, clearly pleased with the story she'd spun.

"Adrian, look how adorable he is. You've always wanted a child, haven't you? Good things come to good people. Caleb was so grateful for our support that he gave us a son."

Caleb watched the child land in my arms and nearly lunged forward. Vivienne seized his elbow and yanked him back, silencing him with a glare.

I took my time, smoothing the boy's downy hair, letting the sharp edge of my nail trace line after line across his soft cheek, each one leaving a pale streak on the delicate skin.

Caleb's eyes were rimming red, tears threatening to spill. Vivienne kept swallowing hard, her throat bobbing with every nervous gulp.

I drank it all in.

Then, without warning, I closed my hand around the child's throat and barked at Caleb.

"Do you want this boy to die in my hands?"

Caleb's composure shattered. A shrill cry tore through the ballroom.

"Adrian! That's Vivienne's son! You can't hurt her!"