Chapter 1

"Yeah, once I finish the paperwork," Calista Arden said softly.

After hanging up, Calista drew in a deep breath. As she passed the prayer room at the end of the hallway, a muffled groan drifted from inside.

The door stood ajar, and a thin strip of light spilled through the crack. Unable to stop herself, she peered inside.

Through the drifting incense haze, Theodore Montclair kneeled before the statue in a plain white robe, chest partly open, a rosary wrapped around his wrist. His body moved in faint, rhythmic motions over a doll lying beneath him.

The doll's features appeared vivid in the flickering candlelight—almond eyes, cherry lips, and a beauty mark beneath the left eye. It looked just like his adoptive sister, Aveline Montclair.

Calista bit down on her lower lip until she tasted blood. This was the third time she had stumbled upon this scene in secret.

The first time, she bolted from the room. The second, she stayed awake the entire night. But tonight, she felt nothing but numbness.

She found it absurd. Theodore did have desires and emotions. They just never had anything to do with her.

Leaning against the frigid wall, she suddenly remembered the first time she met Theodore.

She was 20 years old that year. Her brother, Elijah Arden, had taken her to a gala at a private club to introduce her to his best friend.

That day, Theodore wore a pale tailored suit adorned with a diamond pin and a rosary wrapped around his wrist. Amid a room full of decadent socialites, he sat with only a cup of tea before him, a stark contrast to the surrounding excess.

He kept his gaze lowered while brewing the black tea, his slender fingers gripping the pot as the water cascaded down. Through the rising steam, he lifted his eyes and looked at her.

In that instant, Calista's heart skipped several beats.

Noticing her dazed expression, Elijah tapped her forehead with a smile. "Forget it, Calista. You can fall for anyone, just not him. Among all the heirs in our circle, everyone indulges in vice except Theodore. He has been praying in the church since he was young and stays away from worldly desires."

Calista refused to believe Elijah. A troublemaker since childhood, she doubted that anyone could truly be without desire. Thus, she began to pursue Theodore, employing every tactic to provoke his interest.

She purposefully sat on his lap while he recited prayers, but he simply lifted her aside with one hand. She spiked his tea, but after finishing it, he merely said calmly, "Don't add so much cinnamon next time. It's too strong."

In her most daring attempt, she sneaked into the prayer room while he was in seclusion and lay on his bed wearing nothing but his white shirt. When Theodore opened the door, she deliberately let her legs dangle over the edge of the bed, swinging them back and forth.

Instead of reacting, he turned and left. The next day, he sent her a box of brand-new shirts. "These are for you. Stop stealing mine."

Even Elijah couldn't stand it anymore. "Can't you have some self-respect?" he asked.

Calista replied defiantly, "I'm doing God's work! It's a total waste for a man this handsome to be living like a monk!"

She pursued him for four years, exhausting every effort, yet she failed to stir even a flicker of interest.

Just as Calista started feeling discouraged, she received a late-night call from Theodore on her birthday. "Come downstairs," he said.

She rushed down in her pajamas to find him standing in the snow, his shoulders dusted with white flakes.

"Let's get married," he said.

There was no ring, no confession—just those few words. But Calista was overwhelmed with joy and threw herself into his arms. "I finally got to you, didn't I?"

Theodore didn't hug her back and merely gave a soft grunt in response. Looking back now, she realized how perfunctory his response had been.

Two years into their marriage, they still hadn't consummated it. No matter how she tried to entice him, he would always turn away at the final moment and walk alone into the prayer room.

She had once believed that he had spent too long in devotion and simply needed time.

Everything changed three days ago, when she refused to give up and followed him into the prayer room. Witnessing the scene, she finally understood that he didn't lack desire—it simply wasn't directed at her.

The person he loved was Aveline, the girl his family had adopted when they were young. His devotion, his rosary, and his marriage to Calista were all just tools to suppress his feelings for his adoptive sister.

At that moment, her heart went completely cold.

Inside the prayer room, Theodore finally ceased his movements. He leaned down to kiss the doll's neck, his voice incredibly raspy. "Ave… I love you."

His voice was barely audible, yet it pierced Calista's battered heart. Her tears finally fell as she turned and walked away without looking back.

…

The next morning, when Calista woke up, Theodore was already dressed and ready to leave. Clad in a tailored black suit that emphasized his tall, lean frame, he still wore the rosary on his wrist. It was as if the man who lost control last night was merely an illusion.

Just as he was about to step out of the villa, Calista called out, "Wait!"

Without lifting his head, he said coldly, "I have a meeting today. Stop pestering me."

His words cut through her final hope like a blade. It turned out that in his eyes, she would always be nothing more than a persistent nuisance.

Calista suddenly laughed. "You misunderstand. I just want the keys to the Maybach. You can take another car from the garage. I'm more comfortable driving this one."

Theodore finally looked her in the eye, his tone remaining indifferent. "Are you heading out for errands today?"

She nodded. "Yes."

"What kind of errands?" he asked, pressing further.

Calista pulled the keys directly from his suit pocket, a smile playing on her lips. "Something… that will make you happy."

She intended to leave him forever.