Chapter 2

The woman in the photo was beautiful. She had delicate features, and her long hair cascaded down her shoulders and over her white dress. She held a cello as she smiled.

They were both women, but Chelsey couldn't help finding the one in the photo to be much prettier than herself. There was something about her that made her seem ethereal and gentle. It was as if she were a being from beyond this world.

In this instant, Chelsey realized this villa was the marital home Lucas had prepared for himself and Shannon. And she, his actual wife, had only consummated the marriage in Shannon's place.

She wouldn't even appear in Lucas' dreams; Shannon would be the only one in there.

Chelsey left as quietly as she'd come.

…

Two days later, Chelsey saw Shannon in the flesh at a private concert the latter was throwing in celebration of her return.

Shannon had mailed an invitation to the concert to Lucas. When Chelsey saw the mailer's name, she'd opened the envelope tentatively to see the invitation inside. And so, she'd attended the concert with that invitation.

Chelsey didn't want to lose to Shannon, so she'd painstakingly done her makeup and put on a crimson dress that she felt made her look her best.

But as soon as she laid eyes on Shannon, she knew she'd lost.

Shannon was tall and slender. She wore a silver evening gown as she played the cello, looking like a goddess who had descended from the heavens.

Her flawless skin and delicate features didn't require much accentuating; she was perfect the way she was. Her every smile and gesture caught one's attention.

Not only was Shannon beautiful, but she was also talented. She was now a globally renowned cellist.

There were only a few dozen people attending the concert, and they were all dressed smartly. It was clear to see that they were all elites in their respective industries.

The stage wasn't large, so there was only less than 15 feet between Chelsey and Shannon. Chelsey knew nothing about music, so she spent the concert staring at Shannon.

This was the woman who had Lucas wrapped around her finger. She was beautiful, confident, elegant, and classy.

Chelsey could relate every positive description she could think of to Shannon. The latter had returned to the country three days ago, and the time matched up with the night that Lucas had drunk the bar dry.

Chelsey's heart twisted painfully at the thought.

Halfway through the concert, someone suddenly barged onto the stage and splashed a bucket of red paint on Shannon. Her white dress was immediately drenched crimson.

She screamed in shock before being shoved to the floor by the two men on stage. Her cello fell to the floor with her.

One of the men smashed the cello with a hammer as she cried, "Don't break my cello! My cello …"

The man who'd smashed the cello said menacingly, "This is what you get for being a mistress, and this is only a warning. If you pull something like this again, we'll kill you!"

With that, he stomped on her hand. Then, he and his accomplice fled the scene.

Shannon cried out in pain. "My hand!"

Her cries reverberated around the hall. Everything had happened so suddenly that everyone panicked.

The security guards chased after the two men, but they were long gone.

Chelsey stood nearby, watching Shannon quietly. The latter cradled her hand, which was red from the stomp, looking pitiful. The tears streaming down her face only made her look that much more fragile.

At this moment, a tall figure appeared out of nowhere like a god descending from the heavens. The whole place seemed to light up from his presence.