Chapter 1

I bought a secondhand laptop online.

The moment I turned it on, my heart stopped.

The wallpaper was a photo of my fiancé, Lachlan… with another woman.

I couldn’t move.

Before I could stop myself, I opened the folders.

Video after video filled the screen—Lachlan and that same woman.

Just as I grabbed my phone to confront him, it rang.

“I’m so sorry! I accidentally shipped you my boyfriend’s laptop!”

“There are important files on it—please don’t open anything! I’ll send you a replacement right away!”

Her voice was soft. Sweet… and way too familiar.

And in that moment, something inside me shattered.

The man I had loved for years…

Lachlan had been cheating on me this whole time.

After hanging up, I forced myself to calm down, my fingers trembling as I moved the mouse.

Apart from that wallpaper, the desktop was suspiciously clean—just one folder labeled "My Treasure."

Lachlan had once created a folder with that exact name for me, filled with photos of us from childhood to now.

My heart pounded wildly as an absurd thought exploded in my mind.

Was Lachlan cheating on me?

The thought only lingered for a second before I crushed it.

Because I knew perfectly well that even if every man in the world cheated, Lachlan would be the exception.

After all, we were childhood sweethearts who grew up together in the same neighborhood, watched over by everyone.

He loved me—loved me enough to remember my period every month and have hot milk ready in advance.

Loved me enough that the passwords to his phone, computer, and all his social media accounts were my birthday.

Besides, our wedding was only two weeks away. This had to be a misunderstanding.

I took a deep breath, as if trying to suppress the inexplicable panic rising in my chest.

Double-click. The folder opened.

What appeared before my eyes were intimate photos of Lachlan with an unfamiliar girl.

All the blood in my body seemed to freeze instantly, like lightning striking me, the shock making every organ in my body ache.

I looked through them one by one. Every single photo mocked my self-deception.

Lachlan really was cheating.

And I had been lost in the joy of soon becoming his bride. How ridiculous.

I don't know how long I sat there in a daze before I finally calmed down.

The first thing I did was open my phone and book a flight to Paris in seven days.

That was the dream destination I had once given up to be with Lachlan.

Now, I was going to pick up my paintbrush again and pursue the artistic dream that had been shelved by love for too long.

Next, I packaged all those disgraceful photos from the computer and sent them to my best friend, Zoey.

Zoey's call came through immediately, her voice full of shock and fury:

"Harper! That bastard! Just wait—I'm getting people together right now to destroy him!"

I interrupted her, my voice terrifyingly calm:

"No need. Saturday, at our families' engagement party, I'll handle it myself. I need your help with something. I'm going to give Lachlan a big gift."

Just as I finished speaking, Lachlan's voice suddenly sounded behind me, his tone light and tender:

"Harper, guess what I brought you?"

He was carrying cream puffs from my favorite shop. When he saw my face, the smile on his face instantly froze.

"Harper? What's wrong? Why are your eyes so red?"

He dropped the bags and quickly walked over, reaching out to hug me. I instinctively dodged.

I opened my mouth, my voice sounding dry and unlike my own:

"Lachlan, you..."

Just as I was about to tear away this layer of false warmth, his phone rang abruptly.

Lachlan instinctively glanced at the caller ID, and his expression changed instantly.

He quickly pressed silent and flipped the phone face-down on the table, his movements so fast it seemed like he was hiding something.

"A... telemarketer," he explained, his tone somewhat unnatural.

But I had seen it. The moment the screen lit up, the caller ID showed "Quinn."

Watching him panic while trying to maintain composure, I found it unbearably ironic.

I looked up at him and asked softly, "Lachlan, do you love me?"

He looked stunned by my question, then laughed and affectionately tapped my nose.

"Silly girl, why ask that? If I don't love you, who would I love?"

I stared into his eyes, asking word by word:

"What about Tara Quinn? Do you love her too?"

Tara Quinn—that was the seller's name.