Chapter 3

Perhaps Westley had long forgotten, but Yara remembered it vividly.

Back then, she was the star of Hudson University’s law program, while Westley was a poor student from the neighboring economics department.

Even his tuition had been funded by Yara’s mother.

There were always plenty of boys vying for Yara’s attention—some wrote her songs, others brought her flowers.

But none of them were like Westley, who waited outside the women’s dormitory every day.

In the summer, he brought her cold drinks; in the winter, warm tea, all for the chance to give her a ride to the library on his bicycle.

Yara never paid him any attention.

Her dormmates often mocked him, laughing and saying, "Look at him—thinking he can land a princess! Guess fairy tales really are just fairy tales."

That day, everyone burst into laughter.

Everyone except Yara. She stopped, walked up to Westley, and said, "I’ve never ridden on a bicycle before. Teach me."

Before long, news of Yara and Westley dating spread across Hudson University.

Several upperclassmen joked that they were already heartbroken before they even had a chance to ask her out.

The school forum buzzed with posts predicting how long their relationship would last.

After all, the gap between them was too great.

Westley was average in every way, while Yara stood out in looks, grades, and family background.

What no one expected was that the two would get married right after graduation.

When Yara accepted his proposal, she looked into his eyes and said, "Westley, you’ve been so good to me... so good that it almost makes me feel guilty.

“It feels like saying no to you would be letting you down. Will you keep treating me like this forever?"

Westley didn’t hesitate to give her his answer.

He held Yara tightly in his arms as if he wished he could rip his heart out and show it to her.

"Yara, you’ve given me a new life. You’ve made me feel like a real person. I’ll spend the rest of my life being good to you, and only you."

Looking back now, it was nothing short of ironic.

They had only been married for five short years, but to Yara, it felt like a lifetime ago.

There was no such thing as "forever."

A man’s promises, once spoken, were destined to be broken.

By the third year of their marriage, her father, Robert Cullen, brought Elena back into the family.

From that day on, Yara felt as though she was gradually losing both her father and her husband.

Robert, a man of few words, would spend hours patiently comforting Elena after she lost a case.

And Westley, who couldn’t even name her favorite hobbies, would stay up all night to watch soap operas with Elena.

The Crestwood Estate case a year ago was the final turning point, a line that forever divided Yara’s life from Elena’s.

…

Yara lay awake until the early hours of the morning and didn’t wake up until midday.

As she descended the stairs, she heard the sound of laughter echoing from the living room.

Elena, Robert, and Westley were talking and laughing together.

Whatever Elena said must have been hilarious, because Robert’s face was creased with delighted wrinkles.

Westley was also smiling warmly, and with a playful gesture, he tapped the tip of Elena’s nose.

The cheerful, harmonious atmosphere came to an abrupt halt the moment Yara appeared.

It was as if she were an intruder trespassing on someone else’s territory.

But this was her home.

Even the villa itself was part of the inheritance her mother had left her.

Elena leaned against Westley’s arm. “Yara, you’re so lazy. We’ve already had lunch.”

Robert responded casually, “Have the kitchen make her some pasta.”

Elena let out a theatrical sigh. “The cook said she had personal matters and took the afternoon off. No one’s here to make pasta for her.”

Without even glancing up, Robert said, “Then order takeout. Young people love takeout these days.”

As he spoke, he turned to Elena with a warm smile, every wrinkle on his face radiating affection.

“Elena, don’t think I don’t know you’re always secretly ordering takeout. It’s not good for your health. Don’t do it again, alright?”

Elena playfully stuck out her tongue.

Yara remained expressionless, averting her gaze without a word, and turned to head for the door.

Suddenly, Westley stood up. “I’ll make her pasta.”

“Westley!”

Elena’s displeasure was obvious, but Westley was already walking toward the kitchen.

She shot Yara a cold glare, rolling her eyes dramatically.

At that moment, a housekeeper walked in, holding a cardboard box. “Miss Yara, a package has arrived for you.”

Yara stopped in her tracks. “For me?”

The housekeeper set the box on the table. “Yes, the recipient’s name is yours.”

Yara frowned slightly, confused. She had just returned and hadn’t ordered anything online.

Elena’s eyes darted mischievously as she grabbed the box from the table.

“Let me see what my dear sister has been shopping for.”

She began opening the package while sneering sarcastically. “Yara, you just got back and you’re already shopping online? You must be in quite a good mood.”

Before the words were even out of her mouth, a sharp scream suddenly filled the room.