Chapter 2

When Ansel arrived at the hotel, he found Stellan pressed up against the wall, his face full of defiance.

"I only sold my virginity because I needed the money, but Camille Ellery, I don't want your money! Even if you bought me, I won't go through with it!"

Camille's face flushed red with anger, but there was nothing she could do. That was when she spotted Ansel.

"What took you so long? Hurry up and cry! Fill this bag up with merfolk pearls."

Stellan was so surprised that he let his guard down for a second. "Cry merfolk pearls? Wait… Is he a merman?"

"Yes, he is."

Ansel's heart lurched. "You promised me you wouldn't tell anyone my secret."

To most people, merfolk was nothing more than a myth, and the more people who knew about them, the more trouble it would inevitably bring.

Camille, however, just glanced at Stellan and said firmly, "He's not just anyone."

Then she turned to Ansel, her impatience evident. "Hurry up."

Ansel fell silent for a moment before answering softly, "I can't cry any more tears."

Back when Camille learned that Stellan's fiancée came from a wealthy family, she became obsessed with building a fortune of her own.

Because it had been her wish, Ansel had cried for three days and three nights without rest or sleep. He'd shed enough merfolk pearls to amass tens of billions of dollars for her, and only then was she satisfied.

In exchange, crying until his tears ran dry had left him nearly half dead.

She clearly knew all of this.

"Use whatever method you need to. Just try again!" she snapped. "He refuses to take my money, which is why I called you here. This is my wish!"

A benefactor's wish couldn't be refused. To do so would mean dissolving into foam.

Ansel pressed his lips together. He picked up the fruit knife from the table and slowly plunged it into his heart.

As cold sweat dotted his forehead from the excruciating pain, blood began to seep from his heart, congealing drop by drop into pearls.

These were the rare and precious blood pearls of a merfolk. Each one was worth a fortune, yet producing them severely drained his life force.

Camille scooped them all up and presented them to Stellan. "You won't take my money, but surely you can take these."

"He's so deeply devoted to you, so why must you be hung up on me?" Stellan asked, his voice trembling. "How can you be so shameless?"

Camille's eyes suddenly welled up with tears. "You're right. I am shameless. No matter how much anyone else loves me, I only love you, you bastard! And look at you. You need money so badly, yet you refuse mine. That's because you still love me, but you're just too proud to admit it, right?"

By the end of her outburst, her voice had grown hoarse, as if she'd been sobbing nonstop.

After a long standoff, the icy look in Stellan's eyes finally melted. "Yes, I do still love you, and that's why I don't want you to look down on me."

"I love you too, Stellan. You're the only one I've ever loved."

Unable to hold back any longer, Stellan scooped Camille up into his arms. Soon, they were kissing passionately, not even bothering to close the bedroom door.

Camille's eyes burned with desire, yet her touch was unbelievably gentle. It was nothing like when she was with Ansel. Even when they tried the wildest, most uninhibited positions, her expression had always remained detached.

Now, Camille and Stellan's bodies intertwined, and their ragged breaths rose and fell in waves.

Ansel's eyes burned, but he couldn't squeeze out a single tear.

He'd been by her side for three years, but only today did he finally learn what Camille looked like when she truly loved someone.