Chapter 1

Ronan Blackwell was wrapping his arm around some girl as they stepped out of the hotel elevator.

I was sitting right there on the lobby couch, snacking on nuts.

The second Ronan locked eyes with me, his face went paler than a three-day-old corpse.

The girl in his arms reacted first, shoving him away with a sharp gasp.

"Miss West, wait, it's not what it looks like!" she squeaked.

I rubbed my forehead. "Alright, drop the act. You're practically bursting at the seams trying not to laugh."

Honestly, it wasn't just her. I was barely holding back a massive grin myself.

Ronan getting caught red-handed cheating meant I was walking away with ten percent of the family company stock. Jackpot.

Chapter 1

Ronan Blackwell wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, forced a smooth smile, and strolled over to me like nothing had happened.

"Peyton, hey. You didn't tell me you were flying back today. I would’ve picked you up at the airport."

Without waiting for me to speak, he casually pivoted to the girl beside him.

"This is Alexis Archer, my assistant. Alexis, meet my fiancée, Peyton West."

Alexis caught the quick warning in his eyes and offered a reluctant greeting. "Nice to meet you."

My eyes lingered on her a second too long, prompting Ronan to step forward and shield her from my view. He grabbed my hand, instantly shifting into devoted fiancé mode.

"You've been gone for two whole weeks, babe, you lost weight. How about I make your favorite dessert later?"

While talking, he flicked his hand behind his back, motioning for Alexis to beat it. She slipped away into the background, leaving me alone with this lying piece of trash.

I stared at Ronan’s face. He was still insanely attractive, maybe even a little hotter now with that subtle older-guy charm, and I just smiled and nodded.

The heartbreak phase was already over. Right now, I wasn't looking at a liar, I was looking at ten percent of company equity.

Ronan and I had been together for eight years. High school sweethearts, surviving long distance while I studied abroad, all the way through my first two years of working as an intern.

Eight solid years. God knew how many girls tried to throw themselves at him over the years, and he rejected every single one.

My mom had been sold on him forever because of that. Even my dad, who used to think Ronan’s family wasn't on our level financially, finally caved and gave us his blessing for us to get married.

They had both put five percent of their company stock into a legally binding trust. As long as Ronan stayed loyal and we got married, those shares were his. If he ever cheated, the full ten percent belonged to me.

I never expected an eight-year relationship to fall apart this easily.

Seeing me stay quiet, Ronan clearly thought he’d pulled off the lie. The color returned to his face, and his voice dropped back into its usual cozy tone.

"You just landed, you must be exhausted. Let's head home so you can take a nap while I prepare dessert. We still have to meet up with our parents tonight to finalize the wedding dates, and you can't be running on empty. Your mom and dad will kill me if they think I'm not taking care of you."

Just past his shoulder, a shadow slipped back toward the hotel elevators. I watched the reflection vanish into the doors and smiled.

"Oh, totally. I walk off a flight, and you hit me with a surprise like this. You're taking such good care of me."

Ronan picked up on the bite in my voice, and his fake smile vanished. He squeezed the bridge of his nose, his voice heavy with fake exhaustion.

Chapter 2

“Peyton, come on. You know what kind of guy I am.

"Alexis is just my assistant. Her cramps were killing her today, that's all. I got her a room so she could rest up. Is that really such a crime?”

Ronan was still acting. I almost wanted to laugh at the performance.

He clearly wasn't going to back down. I refrained from tearing off his mask right there in public. If he denied it, I would just end up looking like a crazy, hysterical girlfriend. If he wanted to play a role, I would play along for a little longer.

I forced a smile onto my face and reached out, gently brushing a smudge of foundation off his shoulder.

“I know. Ronan is the sweetest, most thoughtful guy in the whole world.”

I knew you were just like every other trashy guy I’d ever met.

…

Ronan drove us home. The entire ride back, his phone buzzed continuously on the console.

Even from the passenger seat, I could easily spot the name flashing across the lock screen: Alexis.

When Ronan didn’t reply, she got impatient and called him directly.

Ronan kept one hand on the wheel while sliding the screen to answer with the other. He made sure not to hit the speakerphone.

“What’s up?”

I couldn’t hear what Alexis was saying on the other end, but the tight crease between Ronan's brows smoothed out. A faint, amused smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

Then he suddenly remembered I was sitting right next to him. The smile vanished. His voice stiffened.

“Okay, I have to go. Peyton is right here. We'll talk at the office tomorrow.”

He hung up, held up his phone with a helpless chuckle, and shook his head.

“Alexis just started last week, so she’s totally clueless. She's freaking out over some minor mistake.”

Before the words fully left his mouth, Alexis’ name flashed across the screen again.

This time, Ronan didn't pick up. He powered the phone off entirely and shoved it deep into his pocket.

“No more interruptions. Get some sleep, okay? We'll be home in thirty minutes.”

I hadn’t been sleeping well lately. I closed my eyes, and before I knew it, I drifted off into a dream.

In the dream, I was holding a flight confirmation for Boston. I looked into Ronan's tear-stained eyes, my heart completely melting.

A nineteen-year-old boy wrapped his arms tightly around me, holding me like I was his whole world.

“Peyton, I swear to God. You’re the only girl I’ll ever love.”

That promise was still echoing in my mind when Ronan's familiar voice pulled me back to reality.

“Peyton, we’re home.”

I opened my eyes to find Ronan leaning over me, unbuckling my seatbelt.

He sat back and gently ruffled my hair, offering a warm smile.

“Up you get, sleepyhead. Go lie on the couch for a bit. I’ll wake you up when dessert is ready.”

His tone was as tender and patient as it had always been, but his eyes were heavy with hidden calculation and paranoia.

If I hadn't already seen the cold, hard proof of his affair, I probably would have drowned in that sweet affection all over again.

Too bad reality didn’t come with a rewind button.

I lay back on the couch, watching Ronan move around the open kitchen. The line of his back slowly morphed into the footage the private investigator, Ellie Parker, had sent me earlier.

In that video, his back was turned to the camera in the exact same way. Only he was cooking for a completely different girl.

The photos Ellie sent were crystal clear. Cruelly clear.

A romantic hotel room left uncleaned.

A tangled bed, a carpet strewn with rose petals.

Used condoms sitting in the trash can.

Just those few pictures were enough to tell me everything about their wild night together.

My stomach churned violently, and I came terrifyingly close to throwing up right in front of Ronan.

Chapter 3

This home used to smell like fresh roses and vanilla candles, but now it reeked of cold calculation.

Every move Ronan made felt like a scene from a meticulously rehearsed script.

Even the rich aroma of the crème brûlée on the counter was just another prop to build up his image as the perfect fiancé.

[Keep all the evidence secure. Print out four copies, including everything you sent me earlier, and drop them off at the front desk of The Velvet Room by 5:00 PM.]

After hitting send, I transferred the remaining balance to Ellie, adding a hefty bonus tip on top.

[You got it, Miss Peyton! Will be there on the dot!]

With the good news confirmed, sleep was completely out of the question. I retreated to the bathroom and sank into a steaming hot bath.

Only when the hot water hit me did I realize I was shaking uncontrollably. It wasn't from the cold, but from the girl inside me who still loved Ronan, putting up one last violent desperate fight.

“I still love him.”

Yeah. I admitted it. I still loved him. Eight years of history couldn't just disappear overnight. Of course, I still loved him.

However, I loved myself more.

…

After wrapping myself in a towel, I headed to the walk-in closet to pick out my battle armor. I had a war to fight today.

I settled on a sharp, charcoal-gray blazer and matching low heels.

Standing in front of the full-length mirror, I stared at my polished reflection. Thinking about what I’d be walking away with in a few hours, I tried to force a smile. Yet the smile cracked before it reached my eyes. The woman in the mirror had bloodshot eyes, and her forced grin looked more like a sob.

I took a deep breath, pulled out my makeup bag, and carefully concealed the redness around my eyes.

Ready to go, I grabbed my bag and walked out with my head held high.

In the dining area, Ronan set down two servings of crème brûlée on the table.

Seeing me step out of the closet, he held up his spoon.

“Perfect timing. Dessert is ready. Grab a few bites before we head out.”

The crème brûlée carried a warm, sweet scent of caramelized sugar and vanilla.

The moment the smell hit my nose, my stomach lurched as if someone had slammed a fist straight into my gut. It made me sick.

It wasn't just the crème brûlée. The man holding a spoon with a warm smile on his face was equally sickening.

How could Ronan act so completely unfazed?

He had been tangled up in bed with another girl this morning, yet here he was by noon, scooping crème brûlée with a spoon, the dessert made with love just for me.

I stared at the bowls on the table. Inside wasn’t just crème brûlée, but his hypocrisy, his betrayal, and his utter contempt for me.

Noticing my sour mood, Ronan tested the waters carefully.

“Peyton, this is your absolute favorite. I’ve made it with love and care. We still have time, why don't you try a quick taste?”

He scooped up a spoonful of crème brûlée and offered it to my lips.

I turned my head away, refusing to bite.

“No thanks. Go change your clothes. We need to get to the restaurant.”

My voice was so steady it surprised even me. Only the sharp sting of my fingernails digging into my palms reminded me of the sheer fury burning inside.

After being shut down, Ronan dropped his gaze, looking thoroughly rejected.

In the past, whenever he looked hurt like that, I would rush over to comfort him, cup his face, and ask what was wrong.

Right now, holding back from slapping him twice across the face was the absolute peak of my self-control. Did he seriously expect me to coddle him?

Was his disappointment even real?

Or was this just another play, testing if my heart would soften again, seeing if he could manipulate me back into his trap with a few sweet, pathetic words?

Chapter 4

I turned away, not even bothering to give Ronan another look, and grabbed my bag to head downstairs.

The sharp clack of my heels on the steps sounded crisp and final, every step acting as a quiet farewell.

It didn't take long for Ronan to come down, dressed to the nines as he slid into the driver's seat.

I glanced over at him. Crisp black suit, polished leather shoes, and hair neatly gelled into place, looking completely put together.

His eyes were locked on the road, keeping his hands steady on the wheel.

When the silence stretched out, he snuck a few quick glances my way before finally breaking the quiet.

“Peyton, are you still doubting me?”

I turned my head to face Ronan, letting him keep going.

“I told you already. Alexis and I aren't what you think.”

He kept one eye on me from his peripheral vision, calmly gauging my reaction.

I rubbed my temples and kept my voice soft.

“Ronan, I’ve just been on the road for so long. I’m really tired.”

The moment I gave him an excuse, the tension in his shoulders eased slightly, and he gave a small nod.

Still, a faint thread of suspicion lingered in his eyes.

I had zero intention of dwelling on that, so I shifted the topic right to work.

“Ronan, you’ve been at the company for two years now. Have you thought about making a move?”

I dropped the hint without elaborating.

Hearing that, Ronan's eyes lit up instantly, and the grin on his face finally looked real.

“Peyton, I’ve been stuck as department manager for over a year. If I get promoted to director, I’ll get twenty days of paid leave. Then we can go anywhere you want, domestic or international.”

Maybe the salary for a department director wasn't enough to satisfy him, because he shook his head and kept spitballing.

“Actually, a regional director would be even better. That’s a hundred and fifty grand a year. I could buy you all those designer bags you love.”

Clearly, even a regional position wasn't his ultimate target. He stared at me with burning ambition.

“Peyton, give me a sneak peek. Am I being bumped up to the managing director of the subsidiary?”

I almost snorted out loud. The absolute nerve of this guy.

Even with my family's backing, I wouldn't dream of making a shameless jump like that. Ronan was riding on my coattails, lacking both sales numbers and basic talent, yet he expected to land an executive title? In his dreams.

I stayed quiet. Taking my silence as confirmation, he started humming a tune, practically floating behind the wheel.

When we pulled up to The Velvet Room, Ronan headed over to talk to the valet while I slipped ahead to the front desk, sliding a thick manila envelope straight into my tote.

…

At six o'clock sharp, my parents and Ronan's parents walked into the private dining room back-to-back.

Ronan jumped up immediately, putting on his best dutiful-son-in-law impression.

“Hi Mr. and Mrs. West, it's so good to see you.”

His parents started chatting with me about work and life, keeping the mood perfectly warm and harmonious.

Over dinner, my parents looked at the two of us with huge smiles, launching into their usual speech.

“Peyton, you’re not getting any younger. It’s time to start taking the next big step in life.”

Ronan didn't interrupt, but he stared at me with expectant, hungry eyes.

I just smiled and kept my mouth shut.

My dad pulled a document out of his briefcase and placed it carefully on the table.

“Ronan, we’ve seen how well you've treated Peyton all these years. You really are a great kid, and we want to make sure you’re taken care of. This is an equity transfer agreement. The moment you and Peyton tie the knot, these shares will be officially transferred under your name.”

Chapter 5

Ronan's eyes snapped wide open. He knew all too well just how much our family's company shares were worth.

This wasn't just a lucky break. It was a winning lottery ticket dropped straight into his lap.

His parents didn't know the exact figures, but they knew it was a massive fortune. They sat there grinning from ear to ear.

Ronan made a fake attempt at being modest.

“Mr. and Mrs. West, I’m just doing what any good partner would do. I don’t deserve all this.”

My dad patted the table with a warm chuckle.

“Nonsense! We’re going to be family soon, no need for polite talk. You take those shares.”

With that, my dad slid the document across the table toward Ronan.

Ronan watched the document slide over with burning eyes as if it held the ticket to his dream life.

Halfway across the table, a hand reached out and snatched it away.

My dad sighed, giving me a helpless look. “Peyton, we talked about this. Once you two get hitched, the shares go to Ronan.”

I nodded, keeping my grip firm on the folder.

“Dad, I won the bet.”

The second those words hit the air, my parents remembered the agreement. The bright smiles on their faces collapsed instantly.

I set my tote bag on the table and pulled out four neatly printed stacks of intimate photos. I passed one set to each person in the room, leaving only Ronan and myself without one.

As for where I got this mountain of proof, I really had Alexis to thank.

Three nights before flying back to the country, I was bored out of my mind. I opened TikTok out of habit and stumbled onto a braggy couple post.

The main shot was a close-up of a guy's hand, a simple silver band on his ring finger.

The caption read: [Sneak peek of my darling’s hand. Happy 200th day anniversary to us, hehe!]

Her entire profile was packed with posts showing off her relationship. Every single video featured different body parts of the exact same guy.

A hand holding a coffee cup, his side profile silhouetted against the light, his back as they walked hand-in-hand.

I could never mistake him. That was Ronan.

He had sworn to God that I was the only girl he would ever love.

Yet he had been sleeping with another girl for two hundred days.

I didn't cry. I just felt a deep, penetrating cold.

Whatever feelings I had left for Ronan melted away in those few short minutes, like snow under a harsh summer sun, vanishing into thin air.

I laughed out loud.

A ten percent stake in the company was worth roughly eighty million dollars at current market value.

During my last two days abroad, I hadn't sat around idling. I hired a private investigator to track Ronan and Alexis, recording every dirty detail of their affair.

In less than forty-eight hours, my inbox was flooded with nearly a gigabyte of evidence.

Now, that mountain of proof lay right in front of my parents and his.

They flipped through the pages, their faces darkening with every single photo.

The moment Ronan caught a glimpse of the very first picture, cold sweat broke out across his forehead. He sat completely paralyzed, not even daring to touch the rest of the stack.

“Aside from these photos, I have his online purchase records and receipts from the hotel room. The paper trail is airtight.”

I clapped my hands together with a bright smile.

“Mom, Dad, I won the bet. So, this eighty-million-dollar equity transfer agreement stays with me.”

Ronan's face drained of all color as he choked out a question, “What bet?”