The next morning, I was woken by commotion downstairs.

From the hallway landing, I looked down to see Daryl on the sofa with his arm around Sarah, his face soft with adoration.

Sarah was directing a row of models to parade outfit after outfit while a sales associate stood by, awaiting her orders.

When she saw me coming down the stairs, she leaned closer to Daryl, pressing herself tighter against him.

"You must be his wife? I'm sorry for moving in without asking. I barely slept all night worrying about it. You don't mind, do you?"

She wrung her hands, looking up at me with wide, anxious eyes.

I smiled faintly.

"You've already made yourself at home and called in a personal shopping team. Do you really still need my permission?"

Daryl cleared his throat and was about to speak when someone who looked exactly like him walked in from outside.

"Josephine, don't get the wrong idea."

"Let me formally introduce you. The one sitting with Sarah is my twin brother, Vincent. He's the surprise I mentioned last night."

The three of them exchanged a glance and broke into laughter.

I stood rooted to the spot, feeling like a complete fool.

That night at the lounge, Daryl had told everyone how to tell the brothers apart.

Vincent had a tiny mole at his hairline, nearly invisible unless you looked closely. Daryl didn't.

So I knew with absolute certainty: the man sitting with Sarah right now was Daryl.

"Vincent is the most important family I have. His work was classified, so he couldn't appear publicly before. That's the only reason I never told you."

Vincent stepped forward and took my hand.

"And Sarah is like a sister to us. She just got back to the country and hasn't found a place yet. She's staying with us temporarily. You won't be upset, will you?"

All three of them performed flawlessly.

I swallowed the nausea rising in my stomach and forced a smile.

"Of course not. She can stay as long as she likes."

Sarah's smile turned smug. She finished picking out her clothes and began ordering the staff around to rearrange the house, every inch the lady of the manor.

The Sanchez brothers hovered around her, catering to her every need, as if I didn't exist.

Right on cue, my attorney sent a message: the divorce papers were ready.

I slipped back to my room to review them. When I stepped out again, the staff were carrying armfuls of my old design sketches out of the house.

"What's going on?"

"Ma'am, Ms. Simmons liked your old study. Mr. Sanchez ordered us to clear out all the clutter before he left to see Mr. Vincent off."

Clutter.

I stood there, stunned, and tears fell before I could stop them.

Every sheet of paper in that study was the product of countless sleepless nights.

More than that, everything my parents had left me was stored in there.

That room held all my memories of them, and everything I'd once been.

But to Daryl, it was all just clutter.

Out in the courtyard, flames leaped high in the burn barrel. Sarah picked up my parents' framed photograph and hurled it to the ground.

"Are there more of these morbid things in the house? Get them all out. I want everything burned."

My heart splintered along with the glass of that frame.

"Sarah Simmons! You have no right to touch my things!"

I wiped my tears and rushed over, snatching the photo from her hands.

"You live in Daryl's house, you spend Daryl's money. Everything in here belongs to him." She stepped closer. "As long as he allows it, who are you to say no? Give it back!"

I shielded the photo against my body and twisted away from her reach.

Sarah glared at me with pure venom, but the corner of her mouth curled into a vicious smile.

"Ahh—!"

A sudden flare from the burn barrel scorched her arm, and she cried out in pain.

"I really didn't mean to touch your things! I already apologized! Do you have to shove me into the fire before you're satisfied?"

"Sarah!"

Daryl came rushing over, pulled Sarah into his arms, and slapped me hard across the face.

"Josephine! Have you lost your mind? Do you have any idea what you just did?"

The burning sting on my cheek confirmed that all of this was real.

"I didn't push her. She was burning my old design sketches and about to destroy my father's photograph."

"Daryl, don't I even have the right to be angry in this house?"

A second slap landed on my face.

Then the photo was ripped from my hands and tossed into the flames.

"Your hands are useless anyway. The sketches are gone, so what? Consider it supporting Sarah's career."

"And the photo? I'm the one who told Sarah she could get rid of it. They're dead. What's the point of keeping a memento? You just wanted to bring bad luck down on Sarah!"

"All this over something so small, and you still won't admit you attacked her. Josephine, you're a vicious woman! Apologize to Sarah. Now!"

The taste of blood spread through my mouth. I stared at the man raging in front of me, tears blurring everything.

After a long moment, my shoulders dropped, and I burst into laughter.

"Daryl Sanchez, don't you ever expect me to apologize to that woman!"

"You—!"

Daryl was so furious he could barely form words. His hand rose again, but when his eyes met my shattered gaze, a flicker of guilt crossed his face.

"Josephine, you've been too spoiled." He lowered his hand and turned to the bodyguard nearby. "Take her to her room. She can stay there and think about what she's done until she's ready to apologize."

He scooped Sarah into his arms and drove away without a backward glance.

In the bedroom, I packed my bags while the staff gossiped in the hallway outside.

"Honestly, she doesn't know what's good for her. Picking fights with Ms. Simmons when everyone knows she's his first love."

"Did you hear? Every top specialist in the hospital was summoned to the VIP ward just for a minor burn on Ms. Simmons's arm. No one can compete with that kind of devotion."

"Everyone in this house knows it was Mr. Sanchez sitting with Ms. Simmons on the sofa this morning. She's the only one who's been kept in the dark all these years. And last night, the noise coming from their room was something else. But then again, can you blame him? She's so dull. What man could stand it?"

I gripped the hem of my sleeve until my knuckles ached. Darkness filled the room before the door finally opened.

"Do you really have to be this stubborn?"

Daryl walked in, picked up a cotton swab, and began dabbing at my wounds.

"Josephine, Sarah is like a sister to me. You'll always be Mrs. Sanchez. All you have to do is go apologize."

When I just sat there with my eyes lowered, saying nothing, he lost his patience.

"So you're just going to give me the silent treatment? Fine. Then don't speak for the rest of your life! Stay in here! And forget about the wedding!"

The thought of the wedding, the thought of what came next, loosened my tongue.

"I'll clear out whatever's left in the study."

"And the last piece of property my parents left me is a plot of land. Since you want to support Ms. Simmons's career, it'll be useful for building a jewelry gallery and retail center."

I produced the divorce agreement and flipped to the last page.

"I've already reviewed the transfer documents. Just sign here, and I'll have my attorney handle the title transfer."

Daryl looked puzzled. He'd been trying to get his hands on that land for years, and I had never budged.

"Daryl, let's go ahead with the wedding as planned." I smiled lightly. "Once the ceremony's done, I'll officially have a new identity. It's time to let go of the past."

"I'm glad you've come around, Josephine." He signed without reading a single line. "Sarah's already forgiven you. The burn was nothing serious. Tomorrow I'll take you to try on dresses, I promise."

"Okay."

I tucked the divorce agreement away, keeping my voice bright.

"After the dress fitting, I'd like to go home for a few days and visit my parents. It's been a while."

The termination was scheduled for the day after tomorrow. I couldn't miss it.

"Want me to come with you?"

"No, I'll be fine on my own. Ms. Simmons needs you more right now."

Daryl took in my gentle, considerate smile and left, satisfied.

I spent the rest of the afternoon clearing out the study.

"Why did you take down all our photos from the wall?"

Daryl came to call me for dinner. Seeing the bare room, displeasure flickered across his face.

"Sarah's only borrowing the space for a while. She'll give it back soon. You didn't have to strip it this clean."

"A workspace should feel like a workspace. The photos didn't belong. I've put them away separately."

I answered calmly, my hands never pausing as I erased every trace of myself from the room.

"Fine. But stop for now." He carried a box out for me. "Come eat. I had the kitchen make your favorites tonight."

He walked back over, reaching out to ruffle my hair.

I stepped aside and gave him a soft smile.

"I'm all dusty. Go ahead and start without me. I'll be right down."

"I'll wait for you."

At the dinner table, Sarah had taken my seat. She raised a glass to Daryl.

"Daryl, thanks to the hundred million you invested, my personal jewelry brand is officially off the ground. I'd say our relationship just leveled up!"

They clinked glasses and celebrated, looking every bit the loving couple.

I kept my head down, chewing food that tasted like cardboard.

"I heard you used to be quite talented in jewelry design yourself. How come you never continued?"

Sarah's smile was pure provocation. Daryl answered blandly:

"She just doodled for fun. Nothing like what you do."

"I see. Well, at least she's lucky she found you. Set for life without lifting a finger."

I set down my chopsticks, my gaze cold and level.

"You really do envy me, don't you."

"I didn't mean anything by it. Please don't misunderstand me the way you did this morning." Sarah instantly switched to her wounded expression. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have spoken out of turn."

"Sarah, you didn't do anything wrong. You don't need to apologize."

Daryl's face darkened, but when his eyes caught the cut on my lip, he softened his tone.

"Josephine, watch how you talk to her. Sarah's sensitive. Stop scaring her."

"Of course. I only meant that I hope Ms. Simmons finds someone as wonderful as you someday." I paused. "As for her career, I wish her every success. At the very least, I hope she doesn't end up like me, losing everything to one accident."

The table went silent.

After my rehabilitation from the crash, the Sanchez Group had first begun planning its expansion into the jewelry industry. I had prepared a detailed proposal, hoping to secure investment.

Daryl blocked every attempt.

I refused to give up. I submitted my work everywhere, only to be turned away every time, for the same reason:

"Mr. Sanchez already had a word with us. Please don't put us in a difficult position, Mrs. Sanchez."

Countless arguments, and every single time, I gave in because I loved him. I chose to sacrifice myself.

Never again.

"Let's leave the past in the past." Daryl cleared his throat. "Sarah, don't take it to heart."

Sarah bit her lip. Every glance she threw my way was laced with jealousy and resentment.

I paid her no mind. After dinner, as I headed upstairs, she caught up to me from behind.

"What a clever move, playing the victim in a few sentences and making Daryl go soft on you."

I had no interest in engaging her. I moved to walk around her, but she blocked my path.

"You don't know this, but the first night I moved in, Daryl and I went at it all night. We tried every position there is. He said I'm far more uninhibited than you."

"We overslept because of it. When he saw you that morning he panicked a little, but then Vincent stepped in and claimed he was Daryl, covering for us right in front of your face. You should have seen your expression. It was hilarious."

She covered her mouth, laughing, her face dripping with contempt.

"Does being the other woman really make you that proud?"

I couldn't help but scoff, holding her gaze without flinching.

"What makes you so sure I didn't recognize exactly who was sitting next to you?"

"You—!"

Sarah choked on her own fury. She stepped forward as if to close the distance, but I clasped my hands behind my back and climbed two steps higher.

"What, going to pull the same trick again? Frame me for pushing you down the stairs? Is that the only move in your playbook?"

"I'll let this go for now, Josephine."

Her scheme exposed, her face twisted with rage.

"But let me tell you something. Daryl only has eyes for me. Tomorrow, I'm going to make sure you see that once and for all."

The overhead light caught the glass of water in my hand, casting a wavering glow, as illusory as the love I'd believed in.

I shook my head with a rueful smile and turned away.

The next morning, I finished getting ready and found an outfit already laid out for me.

"I looked up what to wear for a dress fitting and picked something easy to change in and out of. I also packed everything you might need."

Daryl opened the bag he always prepared for me and showed me each item one by one.

Nothing was missing. He'd even remembered my preferred unscented wet wipes.

My nose stung, and something in my chest softened.

He wasn't the type to notice details. But over the years, his attentiveness toward me had been beyond reproach.

Daryl Sanchez did love me. Didn't he?

"Okay. Let me finish up and I'll be right down."

I took the bag, turned, and smiled at him.

In the courtyard, I was about to open the passenger door when the window rolled down.

"Good morning! I need a gown for my jewelry launch event coming up, so Daryl's bringing me along to the shop. He said you don't really have any friends, so I can help you pick out a wedding dress while I'm at it."

"I get carsick and can't sit in the back, so Daryl offered me the front seat. Don't read too much into it, okay?"

She watched me with amusement, clearly savoring the anticipation of my reaction.

I looked over at Daryl in the driver's seat. He spoke as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"Josephine, you know how miserable carsickness can be. Sarah gets it worse than you do, so just bear with it this once. It's a short drive."

So he did know. That I got carsick too.

The tenderness that had just begun to sprout in my chest, I strangled it on the spot.

"Since the front seat is taken, it wouldn't be right for me to insist."

I smiled, warm and accommodating, not a trace of disgust or anger showing.

"But I'm also not willing to sit in the back. I'll take a cab."

Daryl blinked, about to say something, but Sarah tugged at his arm with a pout.

"Daryl, Vincent just texted. He wants to meet us for lunch. Let's go!"

Through the window, past Sarah, he gave me one long look, then pulled away.