Chapter 2

The next morning at six, the housekeeper Maria knocked on my door.

"Ma'am, sir is home."

I blinked.

According to his original itinerary, Ethan wasn't supposed to be back today.

Before I could react, he was standing in the bedroom doorway.

Behind him were Lily Hart and Grant Group's PR manager, Mark Lane.

Lily wore a tailored suit, her eyes rimmed red.

"Emma, how could you put out a statement like that? Do you have any idea what people are saying about me online? I can't even leave my house..."

I looked at her pitiful little act and let out a soft laugh.

"Oh, that statement. I just threw it together. I had no idea you'd take it so personally."

"Emma Reed!"

Ethan's voice was tight with anger.

"Delete that statement immediately. Then post a new one saying your account was hacked. That the video wasn't your doing."

I said nothing.

Mark pulled a document from his briefcase and placed it in front of me.

"Ma'am, this is a new statement drafted by the PR department. You just need to sign."

I picked it up and glanced at it.

Professional wording. All blame shifted to a "hacked account."

Ethan said coldly, "Get ready. The company is holding a press conference at two this afternoon. You'll attend with me. You don't need to say a word. Just stand next to me, and the rumors die on their own."

I looked up at him.

"Ethan, you want me to pretend none of this ever happened?"

His expression darkened. "I'm not asking."

"I know." I dropped the smile. "But I'm done performing for you."

At that point, I thought he'd at least flinch. Feel some guilt.

But he just stood there, looking down at me. There was even a flicker of impatience in his eyes.

As if I were the one being unreasonable.

This was how he'd led me here, step by step, over all these years.

In the beginning, he told me Lily was "just a fresh graduate—don't overthink it."

Later, it was "she's good at her job—it's normal for me to look after her a bit."

After that, Lily had a key to the Lakeview Tower apartment.

My grandmother's jade pendant—the one she'd worn for sixty years—showed up around Lily's neck.

And then there were my three miscarriages.

He managed both sides so seamlessly that I couldn't find a single crack.

Until the night before his trip. The company's anniversary gala.

I went to the lounge to find him.

The door wasn't fully closed. I heard him inside, drinking with a few friends.

Someone asked, "Ethan, you lost to Lily again? What was the bet this time?"

His tone was careless.

"Bet on how long it'd take Emma to forgive me for not coming home on her birthday."

"I bet one day. Lily bet one hour. I lost."

He took a drag of his cigarette, his voice lazy with alcohol.

"Emma's great. Just too boring. A couple of sweet words and she buys every one of my overtime excuses. I even took her most treasured heirloom pendant—told her some business partner was superstitious, thought the jade could ward off bad luck—and she believed that too."

The room erupted in laughter.

Someone said, "Good thing that marriage certificate was never actually registered, or you'd be kicking yourself right now. But seriously, Lily's way more fun—you're not going to marry her?"

Ethan said lightly, "We'll see. The Mrs. Grant seat is better suited for someone like Emma—the type who doesn't make waves."

The laughter died down.

He suddenly lowered his voice.

"But I can't mess with her body over this latest bet I lost. She's already had three 'accidental' miscarriages because of bets I lost. One more and her health will really give out."

I stood outside the door. The cold seeped into my bones inch by inch.

In that moment, everything suddenly made sense.

My thoughts snapped back to the present.

Ethan walked slowly toward me.

Then he smiled. "Emma, if I remember correctly, your parents' ashes are kept at St. Anne Memorial Hall. Right?"