Chapter 1

"You'll have 19 chances to get Brandon into bed. Succeed just once, and you win. But if you fail all 19 times, you'll have to give up the title of Mrs. Searle and divorce him."

Rosalie Lardner stared at Nina Monroe, Brandon's stepmother, as she pushed the betting agreement across the table.

For a newlywed like Rosalie, it seemed like an easy win. She signed the agreement confidently. "Fine. You've got a deal."

But after 18 tries, she hadn't managed a single win.

On her 19th attempt, Rosalie pulled out all the stops. She slipped Brandon a strong drug and slid into his bed wearing nothing but a sheer, seductive outfit.

This time, she was sure she had him. But even with the drug burning through his veins, Brandon somehow found the strength to shove her off the bed with a brutal kick.

"If you ever spike my food again, don't expect me to hold back just because we're married," he growled. His face was flushed, and his body shook from the drug's effects.

Brandon was barely holding himself together, yet he still refused to give in to her. Staggering upright, he called for his driver and left the house.

Rosalie stood frozen, watching numbly as his taillights vanished into the darkness.

He was going to find someone to help him ride out the heat. He was going to Nina.

Rosalie sat on the cold bed, her heart aching as she spent the night lost in thought. Over and over, her mind replayed Brandon's promises—the vows he'd made when he proposed their secret marriage. He had sworn to cherish her for a lifetime. Yet he wouldn't even lay a hand on her after the wedding.

…

The first light of dawn had barely touched the Searle residence when Brandon's Bentley rolled up the driveway. But instead of Brandon, Nina stepped out.

Wearing a grin like the cat that got the cream, she sauntered up to Rosalie and handed her a divorce agreement.

"It's been 19 failed attempts, hasn't it? A year ago, you were so sure you'd win. Did you honestly think marrying him meant he'd actually share your bed every night? Or that he'd just forget about me because I'm his stepmother?"

Rosalie's jaw tightened. Just as Nina had said, her year of marriage to Brandon had been completely hollow, devoid of intimacy or love. No matter how hard she tried to tempt him, his expression never changed. That cold indifference never wavered.

The one he loved would always be Nina—his ex-girlfriend and the woman who had married his father for money.

In the end, Rosalie could only bow her head in surrender. "I give up. He's yours now."

The first time she saw him played in her mind like a memory. She was 19 that year; he was 23.

The Lardners and the Searles had been bitter rivals for years, their feud deep-rooted and unyielding. But that night, they found themselves at the same gala, and from across the room, Rosalie noticed Brandon in his understated suit.

He stood apart from the rest—quiet, serious, untouched by the extravagance around him. People called him the "odd saint" of the wealthy elite.

He kept his distance from women, never touched liquor or cigarettes, and wore an amethyst pendant with a silver setting that had the face of a saint engraved into the metal. His eyes held the same quiet kindness as the figure stamped there.

One glance and Rosalie was already his.

When Nina appeared before the crowd, arm-in-arm with Brandon's father, Declan, Brandon's face twisted in pain.

Later, Rosalie's sister, Julie, filled her in. "Nina is Brandon's stepmother. She only married Declan last year. But before that, she was Brandon's first love. They dated for six years. Rumor has it among the wealthy circle that they're still involved. That's why he wears that saint pendant. He's guilty and afraid karma will come for him."

Rosalie didn't believe it until she stepped away to use the restroom that night at the gala. She was about to reach for the door when she heard Nina's moans from inside. When she cracked it open, she saw Brandon pressing Nina against the sink, their bodies moving in a frantic rhythm.

Then, Nina tilted her face toward Rosalie, her lips curling in a vixen's grin. That was when Rosalie realized Brandon loved Nina. Yet she still fought her way into taking Nina's place.

She lied to her parents to get close to him, confessed her feelings in secret, went out of her way to please him, and loved him without self-respect.

He finally proposed the year she graduated. But with the generations-old feud between the Lardners and the Searles, their marriage had to stay hidden.

On the day they got their marriage certificates, Brandon vowed to treat Rosalie well for the rest of his life. But that very night, he left her alone in their home.

After that, whenever Rosalie tried to get close to him, he'd push her away with excuses, saying he didn't like "loose" women and that she should act more reserved.

Then, just three months into their marriage, Declan died of a heart attack. After pretending to mourn for a short while, Nina stopped altogether. She confronted Rosalie directly.

"You saw what was going on between Brandon and me years ago with your own eyes. Now that Declan's gone, I'm free. And you? You need to stop clinging to him. Here's the deal. I'll give you 19 chances. If you actually manage to sleep with him, I'll walk away. But if you fail? You leave him for good."

Rosalie wasn't about to turn down this bet. If she won, Nina would back off and stop meddling in her relationship with Brandon. She tried 19 times to seduce him, and 19 times, he left her humiliated.

The first time, Rosalie perched herself demurely on Brandon's lap. He frowned, stood up, and walked straight to his study without a word.

The second time, she doused herself in perfume, slipped into skimpy lingerie, and made sure he noticed. Again, he walked away like she wasn't even there.

From then on, Rosalie became more and more desperate. She cast aside whatever scraps of dignity she still had, even resorting to drugging him.

By the 18th try, she was boldly straddling Brandon's lap and rocking against him to seduce him. He shoved her down onto the bed without warning. Just when she thought she'd won, he snarled, "You're such a shameless woman. You make me sick."

His words cut straight through her heart, tearing apart every last bit of hope and love she had left.

Then, in a flash, she remembered what she had seen in the restroom that day—Nina's legs wrapped around his waist, her moans filling the air as he thrust into her, breathless with lust.

Everyone always said Brandon was celibate and had no interest in women, but that was just a façade to hide his forbidden love. His marriage? It was nothing more than a cover.

And yet, Rosalie had spent all this time lying to her parents for Brandon's sake. How pathetic.

The truth finally became clear to her. With bitter resignation, she turned to Nina and said, "I'm leaving Brandon. I've already signed the divorce agreement. He'll find it waiting when I'm gone."

Nina didn't bother asking where she was going. Her only response was a cold reminder. "You've got ten days at most. Don't get in the way of my future with Brandon."

Rosalie nodded. Ten days were more than enough to wrap up her move abroad. She had only stayed in the country for Brandon. But now, at last, she was leaving to reunite with her parents and Julie overseas.