Grayson's mind went blank. The world seemed to fall silent around him as he stared at the figure in the coffin. For a moment, everything seemed disjointed. It couldn't be Wendy—could it? The woman in the coffin, with her bruised and battered face, pale and bloated from long periods of exposure to water, was unrecognizable. This wasn't the same person who had once been his Wendy—his Wendy, who had always cared about her appearance, who would cry at the slightest mark on her skin, terrified of leaving behind a scar. The woman lying there now, though, was nothing like that. Trembling, he reached for the coffin lid and pushed it open with force, desperate to see her face, to find some sign that this wasn't really Wendy—that this wasn't truly her. But as he looked, a terrible, heartbreaking clarity washed over him. It was her. His hands shook violently as he tried to take her cold hand, but no matter how many times he reached out, his fingers could never find hers. "Wendy, pleas
The day Wendy jumped into the sea, taking her own life, Grayson had been whispering sweet nothings to Rita, telling her that even if he were to marry Wendy, his love for Rita and their child would remain unchanged. Every time Wendy had tried to end it all because of her depression, he had been with another woman. And not once had he noticed her struggles. Even if he had sensed something was wrong, his heart had still been tied to the other woman. Grayson gripped the depression diagnosis report so tightly his fingers trembled. His tears fell, hitting the cold, hard marble floor. Then, with both hands pressed against his face, he began to sob uncontrollably. What was supposed to be the wedding of the century had turned into the century's funeral. … At the funeral, Grayson stood beside Wendy's coffin, his eyes glazed over, offering mechanical gestures of acknowledgment to each guest who came to pay their respects. "Mr. Bryce, please accept our condolences." "Mr. Bryce, ple
Grayson stumbled to his feet, his hands reaching out to pull the figure into his embrace. "Wendy, is it really you? You've finally come to see me. Do you know how much I've missed you?" The woman in his arms, Rita, flinched at the suddenness of his embrace, letting out a soft grunt of surprise. But the man holding her didn't seem to hear it. He just kept murmuring his regrets, pouring out his emotions as if no one else existed. Rita, listening to him call out Wendy's name again and again, felt a flash of bitterness in her eyes. Why does he love Wendy so much? Wendy had been dead for so long—how could he not look at her, especially when she was carrying his child? The thought of the child brought her back to herself, and she pushed the resentment aside, her voice softening. "Grayson, it's me, Rita." It was like a sudden blow, a hammer that shattered the fragile bubble of his fantasy. Grayson abruptly pulled away from Rita, his dazed eyes slowly clearing, then turning into so
In the span of a single night, the reputations of Rita, Grayson, and the Bryce family plummeted. Various business partners swiftly severed ties with Rita, demanding compensation in the millions for breach of contract. Some of her former fans, now enraged, gathered outside the hospital where she stayed, hurling dirty objects at her. If it hadn't been for Carrie sending bodyguards to protect her, Rita would have had a miscarriage from the fury directed at her. Meanwhile, Grayson, having built an image over the years as a devoted boyfriend, found himself in crisis as his affair came to light. As a result, countless business partnerships with Bryce Ventures were canceled, and shareholders withdrew their investments. If he could betray a woman he had loved for ten years, they reasoned, he could just as easily betray them. Bryce Ventures teetered on the edge of collapse, with stock prices plummeting to rock bottom. To salvage the company, Grayson and his father moved into the offic
In the quiet of the night, Cheryl found herself staying at Allen's house, as she had done many times before. After exchanging a brief goodnight, she lay down in the guest room, phone in hand, scrolling through videos on Instagram. Out of nowhere, one video caught her attention. [Bryce Ventures's former president, Grayson, resigns due to personal reasons. The company is now being taken over by the eldest son of the Bryce family, Christoph Bryce, who will lead Bryce Ventures into a new chapter.] The news struck her like a fleeting shadow. For a brief moment, she was lost in it. Soon after she left, Grayson's affair with Rita had been exposed. Bryce Ventures, with its sprawling network across the globe, had even had branches here in distant New Zealand. When the scandal broke, not only did the company's stock plummet, but their international branches, including the one in New Zealand, suffered greatly. Many were shut down overnight. When she first heard about it, Cheryl had thou
Cheryl blinked in surprise. If she remembered correctly, Allen had not attended the town's Autumn Festival tonight, but had spent the evening enjoying time with his family, who had traveled from afar. Allen seemed to sense her thoughts. He smiled and handed her a gift. "My parents are here for a short trip," he said. "They came to see me, and after dinner, they headed back to their villa." Cheryl understood immediately and quickly invited him inside. Allen's eyes fell on the remaining cake on the table. "You had this for dinner?" he asked, a little surprised. She hesitated, then nodded. Before she could explain that she wasn't hungry, her stomach rumbled audibly. Her face turned a shade of pink as she quickly covered her belly. Allen sighed. "If I hadn't come, what would have happened to your stomach tonight?" He was no stranger to her home and knew the layout well. Without a word, he moved to the kitchen, opening the fridge as he glanced back at her. "Pasta, does tha
At the airport, Cheryl stepped forward and, almost impulsively, hugged Allen. "Take care of yourself," she said. Allen held her in his arms for a long moment before letting go, then turned to head toward the departure gate. At the Bryce family home, the house was alive with activity. Servants scurried to decorate the sprawling villa, ensuring every corner reflected the prestige of a family heir's wedding. The patriarchal torch had passed to Christoph, the eldest son from a different mother, leaving Grayson and his scandals relegated to whispers. In the shadows of a window in the auxiliary building, Rita stood motionless, her eyes fixed on the flurry of preparations. She was no longer the center of attention, no longer the woman who commanded the room. When her affair with Grayson had been exposed, both of them fell from grace. But for Rita, the fall had been steeper. The Bryce family's disdain for her was palpable; her presence was tolerated only because she was carrying th
Before Rita could strike, Grayson seized her wrist, shoving her back against the wall and wrapping his hand tightly around her throat. "Rita, if you dare to harm Wendy again, you won't live to see another sunrise." Without sparing her another glance, he released her, turned, and carefully helped the "Wendy" doppelgänger back into the villa, as if shielding the most fragile of treasures. Rita stood frozen, her body trembling uncontrollably. It was only after a long moment that her legs gave out, and she collapsed to the floor, gasping for air like a drowning swimmer breaking the surface. So close. So close. He'd almost killed her. The thought screamed in her mind. Her throat throbbed with the memory of his grip, and the terror that had seized her still lingered. Just as she tried to rise, a sharp, searing pain radiated from her lower abdomen, and the unmistakable scent of blood began to fill the air. Her face drained of color as she clutched her stomach in panic. "My baby!
In the haze of her thoughts, countless memories of their time together flooded her mind. At six years old, he had taken her hand and firmly told her parents, "It doesn't matter if they don't want you, I do." At sixteen, he had gathered the courage to confess to her. "I will love only you, for the rest of my life." At twenty-two, he had spent millions to propose, begging her not to leave him, telling her he would go mad without her. At twenty-three, he had cheated on her with Rita. He began to lie to her repeatedly, staying out all night. At twenty-four, the night before their wedding, she "jumped into the sea to commit suicide," and they never saw each other again. At twenty-five, they met again, but it was too late. The chasm between them was final—he was now a ghost. The bitterness she once harbored for him faded in that moment. It wasn't that she didn't hate him anymore—it was simply that he no longer mattered. He was just another transient figure in the story of her l
Cheryl had just closed her phone and was about to stand up when the butler walked in, his face filled with hesitation. "Miss, there are people outside claiming to be your biological parents. They wish to see you." Cheryl's head jerked up, her eyes wide in disbelief. "Who did you say wants to see me?" After the butler gave a more detailed explanation, Cheryl finally understood. It was her estranged parents, who had divorced many years ago and now had new families of their own. After her traumatic events and supposed death, they had only just remembered their abandoned daughter. The fact that she had been presumed dead had halted their plans to see her for the final time. But now, hearing rumors about her "resurrection" and her return to the country, they thought to visit her. She listened in silence, her expression unreadable. It was Allen who spoke next, stepping closer and wrapping his arm around her waist. "They're pretending to visit you out of a desire to reconnect,
In the days that followed, Grayson lay feverish and delirious, his hoarse voice repeatedly calling out Wendy's name. By his side, Rita sat slumped in a chair, her once-vibrant presence reduced to a hollow shadow. Her gaze, blank and unblinking, was fixed on him. Since the scandal of being labeled a homewrecker, her difficult childbirth, and the violent tumble down the stairs, Rita's love for him had long since evaporated. What remained in her heart was a toxic mix of hatred and helplessness. She knew all too well that her current misery was inextricably tied to the man lying before her. Yet, deep down, she also understood that the pampered life he had given her had robbed her of the ability to stand on her own. She couldn't leave him. Without him, she wouldn't survive. No one would hire a woman with such a ruined reputation. Her only option was to cling to him with all her might. Summoning what little resolve she had, Rita pressed the call button beside her. A team of doctors
In the end, Allen not only purchased the jewelry set she had chosen but also bought all the others as well. When she tugged at his hand, intending to say something, he silenced her with a kiss. "Cheryl, as long as you're happy, I don't care how much it costs," he murmured. Cheryl lifted her gaze to meet his. In his eyes, there was no one else but her. As their relationship stabilized, Cheryl finally agreed to return to Asteria and meet his family and close friends. From the moment they stepped off the plane to their arrival at the Lloyd family home, their visit was kept low-profile. Only Allen's family and close friends knew of her return. He shielded her carefully, leaving no space for outsiders to intrude. Unbeknownst to Cheryl, someone else had been waiting for her—a shadow lingering in the rain. Grayson, drenched and silent, stood outside the Lloyd family estate for an entire night. He had learned of her return by accident, overhearing a conversation between Christoph a
After much persuasion from Allen, Cheryl managed to divert her attention away from Grayson. However, a more complicated situation had arisen. One evening, Allen, drunk and uninhibited, finally pierced the veil of ambiguity that had hung between them for so long. He kissed her—a spontaneous, unguarded kiss. Cheryl, tipsy herself, didn't resist, and before they knew it, the two had stumbled into a hazy, unplanned intimacy. The next morning, Cheryl resolved to brush the incident under the rug. After all, they were adults, and adults sometimes made impulsive decisions. But Allen, surprisingly, was having none of it. Like a child with an unshakable determination, he insisted she take responsibility for what had happened. Faced with his pleading gaze, so filled with vulnerability and hope, Cheryl found herself nodding before she could stop. Later, as she glanced at the faint marks scattered across her arms, she gently patted her cheeks, trying to bring herself back to her senses. H
Allen didn't say anything more, just lightly patting her back to reassure her. His voice carried a quiet promise, steady yet firm. "Don't worry. I'll handle everything. He won't find you." Cheryl lowered her gaze. Whatever she and Grayson needed to say to each other had been said the day she staged her death. There was nothing left. No explanations, no lingering ties. Betrayal didn't require justification; it was absolute and final. She didn't want to see him, nor did she want to hear any explanations. The two sat together on the sofa, tightly nestled against each other. The room was steeped in a stillness that seemed to suspend time itself. Yet, miles away in a hospital room, chaos reigned. Grayson, barely recovered from his leg injury, was in a frenzy, fighting against the bodyguards restraining him. He was determined to break free, to go to New Zealand and see Wendy. Ever since her death, or what he had believed to be her death, he had never truly accepted the finality of it
Allen suppressed the urge to let a smirk creep across his lips. Taking a few deliberate sips of tea, he finally spoke with casual detachment, "So, your family made the news again?" After all, Rita wasn't staying in a VIP ward. The commotion during her argument with Grayson had been witnessed by several patients, some of whom had even live-streamed the spectacle. Christoph rubbed his temples, exhaustion clouding his features. Ever since he'd taken over as CEO of Bryce Ventures, both Grayson and Rita had been a constant source of trouble. "I've decided that once they wake up, they'll be moving back to their own place," he said. Initially, Carrie had thrown a tantrum upon hearing the decision, threatening to escalate things. But the moment Christoph coldly threatened to cut off all financial support for Grayson's family, she fell silent. "Once they've moved out, I'll issue a public statement severing all ties between them and the Bryce family. Whatever mess they make afterward w
Before Rita could strike, Grayson seized her wrist, shoving her back against the wall and wrapping his hand tightly around her throat. "Rita, if you dare to harm Wendy again, you won't live to see another sunrise." Without sparing her another glance, he released her, turned, and carefully helped the "Wendy" doppelgänger back into the villa, as if shielding the most fragile of treasures. Rita stood frozen, her body trembling uncontrollably. It was only after a long moment that her legs gave out, and she collapsed to the floor, gasping for air like a drowning swimmer breaking the surface. So close. So close. He'd almost killed her. The thought screamed in her mind. Her throat throbbed with the memory of his grip, and the terror that had seized her still lingered. Just as she tried to rise, a sharp, searing pain radiated from her lower abdomen, and the unmistakable scent of blood began to fill the air. Her face drained of color as she clutched her stomach in panic. "My baby!
At the airport, Cheryl stepped forward and, almost impulsively, hugged Allen. "Take care of yourself," she said. Allen held her in his arms for a long moment before letting go, then turned to head toward the departure gate. At the Bryce family home, the house was alive with activity. Servants scurried to decorate the sprawling villa, ensuring every corner reflected the prestige of a family heir's wedding. The patriarchal torch had passed to Christoph, the eldest son from a different mother, leaving Grayson and his scandals relegated to whispers. In the shadows of a window in the auxiliary building, Rita stood motionless, her eyes fixed on the flurry of preparations. She was no longer the center of attention, no longer the woman who commanded the room. When her affair with Grayson had been exposed, both of them fell from grace. But for Rita, the fall had been steeper. The Bryce family's disdain for her was palpable; her presence was tolerated only because she was carrying th