Chapter 3

Once I was back inside the car, I hesitated before finally turning toward the driver.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Certainly, ma’am.”

“Please don’t tell Nathaniel about where I went today,” I said quietly. “Especially the immigration office.”

His hands tightened slightly around the steering wheel.

After a brief silence, he answered cautiously, “Ma’am, I should probably be honest with you. The boss has always instructed us not to discuss you around him.”

I frowned. “What does that mean?”

The driver cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable. “He told everyone that unless it concerns something important, we shouldn’t bring you up in conversation.”

A small, humorless laugh escaped me.

“So he doesn’t even want to hear my name?”

The driver remained silent.

I took that silence as an answer.

**

When we reached the house, I stepped out of the car and stared at the enormous villa in front of me.

It was unfamiliar, yet there was something strangely comforting about it too, as though some part of me recognized the place even if my memories refused to cooperate.

Inside, everything was elegant and expensive, from the furniture to the decorations. The colors, fabrics, and little details throughout the rooms seemed to match my taste perfectly.

I approached the sofa and lightly brushed my fingers over its embroidered cushions.

Had I chosen these myself?

If I had, then I must have once been happy while putting this place together. Maybe I had imagined coming home to this house every day and building a wonderful life with Nathaniel. Maybe I had actually believed that marriage meant two people choosing each other.

Then I noticed the large wedding photograph displayed prominently on the wall.

I walked closer.

The woman in the picture was me.

I was smiling so brightly that it almost looked unnatural now. My eyes were filled with affection as I gazed at the man standing beside me.

Nathaniel looked handsome in his wedding suit, but his expression was completely blank.

He wasn't even looking at me.

I studied the photograph for several seconds before finally turning away.

I went upstairs and entered the bedroom.

I didn't know where anything was, yet my body seemed to remember what my mind had forgotten. Without consciously deciding where to go, I walked straight to the dresser and opened one of the drawers.

Something slipped out.

A leather-bound notebook landed on the floor with a quiet thump.

I picked it up and opened it.

The first page was covered in uneven handwriting. Some of the letters were crooked and cramped, as though whoever had written them had been shaking, crying, or simply too exhausted to care about making them neat.

First day of my marriage to Nathaniel. He went directly to his study after the ceremony and didn't speak to me. That's okay. I'll wait for him.

My chest tightened.

I turned the page.

The entries became increasingly painful to read.

Twenty-sixth attempt today. Nathaniel still didn't come. My assistant said Camille was sick with a fever, so he stayed with her throughout the night. I spent the entire night alone in the emergency room, listening to the IV drip beside my bed.

My fingers trembled around the edge of the paper.

I swallowed and continued.

Thirty-ninth attempt. I took sleeping pills again. When I woke up, I heard Nathaniel talking on the phone outside. He sounded irritated. He said, “Just let her die.” I don't think the pills hurt as much as hearing those words from the person I loved most. There is nothing more painful than realizing the man you would do anything for wishes you were gone.

My vision became hazy.

I wiped at my eyes and forced myself to turn another page.

The final entry was waiting for me.

Forty-ninth attempt. I think I've reached my limit. If even this doesn't work, I'll leave somewhere no one can find me. It seems like nobody would care whether I stayed or disappeared anyway. Goodbye.

I slammed the diary shut.

The sound echoed through the bedroom.

For some reason, my chest felt as though someone had ripped it open from the inside. I looked down at my wrists, and only then did I really notice the faint scars running across them.

I had seen them before without giving them much thought.

Now, they seemed impossible to ignore.

So this was what my life had been.

For six years, I had apparently been begging for affection from a man who couldn't even be bothered to care whether I lived or died.

What kind of person had I become?

How desperate must Adeline have been to keep returning to the same man, hoping that one day he might finally love her?

A few tears escaped before I hurriedly wiped them away.

“It's alright,” I whispered, though I wasn't sure whether I was comforting myself or the woman whose memories were gone. “Even if nobody loves you, you'll still be alright.”

I carefully put the diary back where I had found it and closed the drawer.

Moonlight spilled through the bedroom window, forming a pale patch across the floor near my feet. I stared at it for a long while before speaking under my breath.

“As long as you don't abandon yourself, Adeline, you haven't really lost everything.”

**

For the next several days, the villa remained eerily quiet.

Nathaniel never returned, and not a single person came looking for me.

Oddly enough, I didn't find the solitude unbearable.

Perhaps it was because I couldn't remember loving anyone in this house. Without those memories, there was no longing for Nathaniel and no expectation that he would suddenly come home. There was also no one around to remind me of how unwanted I apparently was.

So I stayed there quietly, waiting for my immigration documents to be processed.

That peaceful silence finally ended when my phone rang.

It was my mother.

The moment I answered, her voice came through, as cold and commanding as I remembered it.

“Camille's birthday banquet is tomorrow at seven in the evening. It's being held at the Enchanted Star Hotel. Make sure you're there.”

I hesitated. “I don't think I—”

“That's all I needed to tell you.”

She ended the call before I could finish.

I stared at the screen for a moment.

She hadn't even cared enough to hear my answer.

The following evening, I chose the plainest black dress in my closet and went to the hotel.

The banquet hall was enormous, brilliantly lit, and packed with guests. Laughter and conversation filled every corner as Camille stood in the middle of the crowd, receiving compliments with a sweet smile.

Nathaniel was there too.

It was the first time I'd seen him since the hospital.

Two women standing nearby were talking quietly.

“Camille really has everything,” one of them said. “Her parents practically worship her, and even Nathaniel Sterling treats her like she's a princess.”

“Of course he does,” the other replied. “I heard he personally arranged the entire banquet. The champagne was flown in from Italy this morning, and every bottle costs six figures. Even the flowers were shipped directly from the Netherlands.”

I glanced around.

The entire hall had been transformed into an extravagant garden.

“Apparently, the decorations were inspired by Morako's garden paintings because Camille loves that style. They spent more than fifteen million dollars just on the setup.”

I took a small sip of wine and looked toward Nathaniel.

He was dressed in a black suit, the collar slightly loosened and the top button undone. Somehow, even dressed casually, he still looked impossibly polished and expensive.

But his clothes weren't what caught my attention.

He was crouched beside Camille, carefully lifting the hem of her dress so it wouldn't brush against the floor.

There was even a faint smile on his face.

A gentle one.

A smile I had never seen directed at me.

So Nathaniel knew how to smile like that.

He simply never smiled that way for me.

Before I could look away, the host's voice rang through the hall, asking everyone to settle down.

My parents soon appeared onstage with Camille standing between them.

My father cleared his throat, surveying the guests with undisguised pride.

“Thank you all for joining us tonight to celebrate Camille's birthday,” he began. “However, this evening isn't only about her birthday. We also have an important announcement concerning our family.”

The conversations immediately died down.

My father rested a hand on Camille's shoulder before continuing.

“From this day forward, Camille will inherit sixty percent of the shares in Prescott Group.”

The announcement was followed by a wave of shocked gasps and murmurs.

My fingers tightened around the wineglass.

Wow.