Chapter 5

Because of my injuries, I woke up very easily.

What entered my sight was a face so familiar and exquisite that I would never forget it in my lifetime.

‘Zoey?’

I sobered instantly, my heart in chaos.

Why did she suddenly come back, and why was she lying on top of me, kissing me?

But the next second, Zoey rasped drunkenly and murmured out the answer.

“Cameron...”

Hearing Cameron’s name, my whole body stiffened, and I understood everything in an instant.

Her warm breath, mixed with alcohol, brushed against my lips, and yet all I felt was a bitterness that made me want to cry.

So she was drunk and had mistaken me for her boyfriend.

While I was still frozen, her kissing grew more intense, and her hands began sliding down toward my waist.

“Wake up, Zoey. I’m Sam, not Cameron!”

I understood what she wanted, but I also understood she had taken me for another man.

At that moment, the bitterness and confusion swelled so sharply that my body recoiled on instinct, and I pushed her away without thinking.

But maybe she was truly drunk, because my resistance only made her cling to me harder, kissing me until I could barely breathe.

The movement stirred sharp pain in my chest. I gasped in pain. “Zoey, you’re hurting me...”

After I said that, I didn’t know whether she ran out of strength or simply sank deeper into drunkenness, but her hands finally loosened, and she rested motionlessly in my arms.

I didn’t dare move and could only let her be.

When I opened my eyes again, Zoey was standing before the sofa, looking down at me with cold indifference.

“Zoey...”

Remembering last night’s absurdity, I scrambled up in fear, avoiding her gaze.

She seemed disgusted by my reaction and frowned coldly. “There’s a room for you. Why were you sleeping on the sofa? Were you waiting for me on purpose?”

I froze, lifting my head to meet her icy eyes.

I wanted to explain, but she cut me off sharply. “This is the first and last time. If you ever step over the line again, don’t bother staying in this house.”

My throat felt blocked, and I couldn’t force out the explanation, so I just kept quiet.

Fine. To her, I had a history of causing trouble anyway.

The truth of last night didn’t matter much.

I lowered my head silently.

But suddenly, she leaned toward me, and her hand reached behind my back as if she were about to hug me.

We were so close I could even smell the perfume on her collar.

I froze, lifting my head in shock and faint hope.

Was she really willing to hug me?

It was an unspoken promise between us.

When I was little—whenever loneliness overwhelmed me because I missed my family, or when I hid under the blankets crying after being bullied—Zoey always hugged me without hesitation and comforted me gently.

It was almost the only warmth of my childhood.

But ever since I confessed to her at 18, she had never touched me again.

I couldn’t describe how I felt now—excited, overwhelmed, impatient.

But the next second, her hand reached past me and picked up her phone from the sofa, and then she stood up to leave.

I watched her back, sinking into disappointment.

So everything had only been my wishful thinking.

In the next few days, the money from the sold gifts and properties arrived one after another.

It totaled more than 15 million, still more than a couple hundred grand short of the 16 million I expected.

But I had nothing left to sell, so my thoughts finally fell on my jewelry design pieces.

Although I was still a student, I had participated in several competitions over the years and won awards. I had gained some small recognition in the industry.

If I sold the designs I had poured my heart into these past few years, I could get the remaining amount.

But since I was about to go abroad, it was almost impossible for me to organize a proper jewelry exhibition on my own in such a short time.

In the end, I had no choice but to go to Zoey.

Coincidentally, Cameron was with her when I approached. When he heard I wanted to hold a jewelry exhibition, he became interested.

“So Sam also studies jewelry design? Perfect, I have some pieces I want to exhibit too. Why don’t we do it together?”

He didn’t ask for my opinion at all, he simply looked straight at Zoey.

She nodded, and I had no choice but to agree.

Three days later, our two jewelry exhibitions were held simultaneously at the convention center.

But it was obvious Zoey cared far more about Cameron’s event.

Because it was his first exhibition in 10 years of studying jewelry design, she put her whole heart into it—giving him the largest main hall, using her connections for publicity, and inviting people from all circles.

On opening day, countless socialites crowded Cameron’s exhibition, creating a lively scene.

In contrast, my little side hall had only a few friends who volunteered to help me—and the pitifully small number of jewelry pieces squeezed into the narrow space.

I stood at the entrance, looking at the lively main hall across from me, and gave a bitter smile.

But at that moment, a shout exploded behind me from one of my friends. “Sam, someone’s framing you for stealing their designs!”