Chapter 1

I was Alexander Williams's dirty little secret for three years before I finally woke up.

At a charity gala, right in front of everyone, he took the rare vintage necklace I had been trying to bid on for weeks and personally clasped it around his first love's neck.

I didn’t cry. I didn’t demand answers. I just quietly walked out.

I went straight to the wildest underground racetrack in the city and climbed into the passenger seat of a rebellious street racer.

"Win this race, and I'm yours tonight."

I held a cigarette between my lips, letting the young driver's hot breath brush against my neck.

But the next second, the car door was violently yanked open from the outside.

Alexander stood there, his face dark as thunder. He dragged me out of the car and slammed me against the cold metal door.

A storm of madness raged in his eyes, his voice raw and furious.

"Valerie, who the hell gave you permission to get into another man's car?"

The crystal chandeliers at the charity gala were blindingly bright.

I sat in the corner of the third row, gripping my bidding paddle so tightly that my palms were covered in cold sweat.

On stage, a rare, vintage antique necklace was on display.

I had fallen in love with it two weeks ago.

Today was the celebration of Alexander’s new film topping the North American box office, and it was also the third anniversary of my secret relationship with him.

I wanted to win the bid. I wanted to buy it as a gift to myself, and perhaps use it as leverage to finally ask him for a public status.

"Five million."

A deep, cold male voice rang out from the front row.

The entire hall fell dead silent. It was Alexander.

He was wearing a custom, pitch-black suit, leaning back lazily in his chair, casually spinning his wine glass with his long fingers.

The dim lighting outlined his sharp, cold jawline, exuding the suffocating pressure of a man used to being in absolute control.

My heart skipped a beat.

He knew I wanted this necklace.

Last night in bed, I had curled up in his arms, pointing at the picture of this necklace in the catalog.

At the time, he had just closed his eyes, smoking a cigarette, saying neither yes nor no.

And now, he was bidding on it himself.

My eyes welled with warmth. Just as I was about to lower my paddle, a slight commotion came from the front.

"Oh, Alexander, that necklace is beautiful."

A woman in a moon-white haute couture gown, surrounded by a small entourage, quietly sat down next to Alexander.

Serena Bennett.

Alexander's first love, and a well-known socialite in New York.

She had just returned from Europe, radiating elegance and effortless grace.

Alexander turned to look at her. His hard, cold features softened visibly.

"Do you like it?" his deep voice murmured.

Serena smiled gently without speaking, her eyes fixed on the necklace on stage.

The auctioneer’s gavel banged down.

"Sold! Congratulations to Mr. Williams."

Amidst the roaring applause, a hostess presented the velvet box containing the necklace to Alexander.

Sitting in the third row, I looked at his back through the crowd, my heart bursting with anticipation.

As long as he turned around to look at me, as long as he had his assistant hand me the necklace, all my silent endurance over the past three years would be worth it.

But he didn't turn around.

Without a single second of hesitation, his elegant fingers picked up the dazzling necklace. He leaned in slightly and slowly, deliberately, put it around Serena's neck.

"It suits you perfectly," he said softly.

Immediately, envious whispers broke out around them.

"Mr. Williams spent millions just to make his lady smile!"

"Miss Bennett just got back, and Mr. Williams is already claiming his territory. They are truly made for each other."

Alexander didn't deny it. He kept his eyes lowered, gently adjusting Serena's hair behind her neck. The gesture was natural and incredibly intimate.

I sat less than fifteen feet away. I felt like all the blood in my body had been drained.

My fingers tightened, and the hard edges of the bidding paddle dug painfully into my palm.

If this were the past, I would have lost control.

I would have rushed over, demanded to be acknowledged, or sobbed and questioned him after the gala.

But tonight, looking at their matching backs, a wave of profound, ridiculous exhaustion washed over me.

Three years. I had lived like a shadow, kept in his suburban villa.

He gave me career opportunities, he gave me protection, but he refused to give me dignity.

Slowly, I let go of my hand. The bidding paddle fell onto the thick carpet with a soft thud.

I stood up, gathered my skirt, and walked toward the exit. I didn't look back.