Chapter 1

For seven years, my boyfriend had a password he never changed: **061599**.

Whether it was his phone passcode, his social media accounts, or even his debit card PIN, those six digits unlocked everything.

Whenever I asked him what they meant, he would always brush it off and change the subject.

I didn't get my answer until Victoria Sterling, his first love who had just returned to the country, introduced herself to me and sent me a picture of them locked in a passionate embrace.

In that single second, everything clicked.

I calmly saved the photo to my phone, and then I dialed a number I hadn't called in years.

"Mom, I agree. I'll go back home and agree to the arranged marriage."

There was a tense, three-second silence on the other end of the line. Then, my mother’s voice broke through, filled with an excitement she could barely contain.

"I knew you'd come to your senses, Chloe! The Vance family has been waiting for you to say yes."

"Come home next week. No, actually, come home tomorrow. You need to meet Julian Vance."

I held the phone, staring at my pale reflection in the floor-to-ceiling window. My voice was so calm it surprised even myself.

"There’s no need to meet," I said, letting out a heavy, slow breath. "Since it’s a marriage of convenience, as long as he has no objections, let’s just finalize it. The sooner, the better."

"Yes, of course! I’ll arrange everything right away!" my mother replied instantly, sounding as if she had been waiting for this exact moment for years.

"The Vance family has impeccable values. I've met Julian. He's two years older than you, just returned from running their overseas branches to take over the family empire. He is incredibly stable and mature."

As my mother went on and on, my eyes drifted to the nightstand.

Sitting there was a framed photo of me and Ethan Carter.

In the picture, he was smiling warmly, his arm wrapped tightly around my shoulders. His eyes were fixed on me, as if I were the most precious thing in his entire world.

Who would have thought that a man who looked so deeply in love could have his heart entirely occupied by someone else?

"Mom, I’m a little tired. I have to go."

I gently interrupted her excitement. "You and Dad can decide on the details. I’ll cooperate with whatever you arrange."

After hanging up, I collapsed onto the edge of the bed, feeling completely hollow.

We had been together for seven years. I had been by Ethan's side through his darkest, most grueling days.

When his startup failed three times, we huddled in a damp, moldy basement apartment, sharing a single cup of instant ramen.

When his father fell gravely ill, I emptied my entire savings account and borrowed money from every friend I knew to pay the medical bills.

When he was framed at work and almost had his reputation ruined, I used all my family’s hidden connections, begging everyone I could to clear his name.

And my reward?

A passcode he refused to change, and a woman named Victoria Sterling.

Over the last seven years, I had asked him countless times about those numbers.

Every single time, Ethan would laugh and say it was just a random combination he came up with.

I had secretly gone through his contacts, checking the birthdays of everyone he knew, but none of them matched.

Until today.

Victoria added me on Snapchat. Her very first message read:

*“Hi Chloe. I’m Victoria Sterling, Ethan's first love. And the only woman he has ever truly loved.”*

How hilarious. The password I couldn’t crack for seven years made perfect sense the moment I saw Victoria's birthday on her Snapchat bio.

June 15th, 1999. 061599.

When Ethan finally came home, he reeked of alcohol.

He walked up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his chin on my shoulder. "Who were you on the phone with, babe?"

"My mom," I said, turning around slowly. As I did, a faint scent of gardenia—definitely not my perfume—drifted from his collar. "She was asking when I'm coming back to New York."

He frowned, looking genuinely confused. "Why the sudden urge to go back? Did something happen?"

"Just catching up. I might not even go," I said, gently pushing him away and keeping my tone vague.

He visibly relaxed, a soft smile returning to his face as he playfully ruffled my hair. "Do you want me to go with you?"

In the past, whenever he asked this, I would always be the perfect, understanding girlfriend. I would smile and say, *“No, it’s fine, I can handle it. Focus on your work.”*

But this time, I stared straight into his eyes and said, "Yes. Do you want to come with me?"

Ethan froze. His smile stiffened, and his eyes darted away.

"I... of course I want to go with you, Chloe. But the company is preparing for the IPO this week. It’s just... incredibly hectic right now."

"I'm so sorry, babe. Next time, okay? I promise I'll go with you next time."

I looked into his eyes—the eyes that used to be filled with warmth, but now couldn't even meet my gaze.

It was exactly as I expected.

Victoria had just returned to the country. How could he possibly bear to leave the city right now?

"It's fine. Work comes first," I said, nodding to end the conversation. "Go take a shower."

Looking as if he had just been granted a royal pardon, he hurried into the bathroom.

I pulled out my phone and tapped on Snapchat, looking at the messages Victoria had sent me earlier.

She hadn't waited for my reply before spamming my inbox.

*“Thank you for taking care of Ethan for the past seven years. But now that I’m back, I hope you can exit gracefully.”*

*“After all, Ethan told me himself that you were nothing but a temporary distraction while I was gone.”*

Attached was a photo.

It was a picture of the two of them hugging. Ethan's arms were wrapped so tightly around her that his knuckles were white. Victoria was leaning against his chest, smiling radiantly.

The background was a luxury hotel room. The timestamp on the photo was from the exact night Ethan claimed he was pulling an all-nighter at the office.

I closed the chat without replying.

There was no point anymore.

The confrontations, the arguments, the tears—we had gone through that cycle so many times over the years. Every time I suspected something, he would hold me tight, tell me I was being paranoid, and swear that I was the only one he loved.

And like a fool, I had believed him every single time.

A text from my mother popped up: *“Next Tuesday is a perfect date. Your father and I checked the calendar.”*

*“The Vance family has already prepared everything. What do you think about hosting the banquet that evening?”*

I typed back: *“Sounds perfect.”*

Ethan and I had seven years behind us.

But now, we only had one week left.

---