Chapter 1

My best friend, Sophia, had just escaped an abusive marriage.

After the divorce, she walked away with nothing.

I took her in and let her move into my place.

I traveled with her to help her heal, supported her through therapy, and bought her expensive jewelry and clothes.

My boyfriend, Ethan, kept frowning.

“Charlotte, we’re getting married soon. How can you spend all your money on Sophia?”

For once, I snapped at him.

“She’s my best friend. She’s at her lowest right now—how can you be so heartless?”

Later, I had to leave for a business trip to the UK.

Before I left, I asked Ethan to take care of her.

But three months later, when I came home dragging my suitcase—

I saw Sophia lying on the couch in a nearly sheer dress,

while Ethan was giving her a massage.

My blood ran cold.

Looks like… he took very good care of her.

The room fell into a moment of deathly silence.

Only the laughter from a variety show on TV filled the air.

Sophia was the first to react.

She scrambled up from the couch and walked toward me, her face pale.

"Charlotte... when did you get back? Why didn't you tell us ahead of time? I... I could have picked you up."

Ethan stood quietly behind her, saying nothing.

Sophia's smile looked forced.

"You must be tired. Let me get you some water."

She turned around frantically, grabbed a glass from the coffee table,

and in her flustered state, knocked over the water pitcher, spilling water all over the floor.

Ethan frowned and pulled out tissues to clean up.

"Stop making things worse. You don't know how to do this kind of thing anyway."

Though his tone was scolding, the intimacy in his words was unmistakable.

The last trace of hope in my heart vanished completely.

My hand gripped the handle of my bag unconsciously, leaving a deep mark on my palm.

"When did this start?"

Sophia froze and instinctively turned to look at Ethan.

He remained calm, sweeping his arm to shield her behind him.

"It has nothing to do with her. It's my fault."

His tone was flat, as if he were talking about the weather.

Ethan had an aloof personality—decisive and cold in business, composed and self-controlled.

People always said he was unapproachable, that only with Charlotte Smith would he ever show emotion.

I used to think I was his only exception.

Until this moment, when he stood on the opposite side from me,

using the calmest, coldest words to completely shut me out.

Sophia looked panicked.

"No... Charlotte, let me explain. We're not..."

I stood there quietly as she stammered but couldn't come up with any explanation.

I couldn't help but laugh bitterly.

"Can't even come up with a decent excuse?"

Sophia's face went even paler.

Ethan held her trembling hands and said in a low voice,

"It's okay. I'll handle this, all right?"

He stepped forward and took my luggage.

"Charlotte, let's go outside and talk."

I looked at his face. In just three months, it had become so unfamiliar.

Fighting back the sting in my eyes, my voice trembled slightly.

"Ethan, this is my home. You're telling me to leave?"

He fell silent for a moment, his voice carrying a hint of pleading.

"Charlotte, I'm asking you as a favor. She caught a cold yesterday and isn't feeling well. Let her rest early, okay?"

I pressed my hand hard against my chest.

There was no visible wound, yet the pain felt fatal.

Ethan picked up his coat from the back of the chair and spoke gently to Sophia.

"Be good and go to sleep. Leave the rest to me. I'll bring you pizza when I come back."

I rushed out the door before they could see the tears streaming down my face.

In the hotel suite,

Ethan sat politely and distantly on the far couch.

He quietly smoked two cigarettes before speaking in a low voice.

"This is my fault. Whatever compensation you want, I'll give it to you."

"I was the one who fell first. Don't blame her."

I dug my fingers into my palm and took a deep breath.

"Why?"

Ethan lit another cigarette and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Charlotte, you're smart, calm, and capable. But Sophia is different. Without me, she can't survive."

Through the dim red glow of his cigarette, I saw his face and found it utterly ridiculous.

Before, as my best friend, Sophia was someone Ethan looked down on completely.

He said she was dramatic and out of touch with society, a parasite living off others at home, a clinging vine that could only survive by latching onto someone else.

Three months ago, when I had to go to England for business,

I begged him repeatedly before he reluctantly agreed to help her occasionally when she needed it.

Back then, he had been unusually childish, biting my face fiercely.

"Charlotte, I'm not even married to you yet, and I already have to deal with your family affairs. You're leaving me with this mess—you'd better compensate me well."

I stood on my tiptoes and kissed his lips, promising him

that once I finished the project in England, we would get married.

Now, in just three months, everything had changed.