Chapter 4

Iris did not have a moment to spare after returning to her apartment. She launched straight into a marathon of calls with clients across different countries, switching seamlessly between languages.

By the time she finished, she collapsed onto the couch, drained.

Iris worked as a sales executive at Avalon, a renowned luxury resort in the city of Calamberta. Between managing the needs of tourists and high-profile patrons and overseeing a steady stream of commercial events, her workload never seemed to end.

She rubbed her temples and reached to set her phone aside when a new message appeared. It was from the sales director and her direct boss, Robin Redfield.

Robin: [I can't believe you're giving up a promotion like this, kid. You're throwing it away to become a housewife for a man who would not even let you publicize your relationship. Are you out of your mind? Or have you forgotten why you chose to work with me? God. What a disappointment.]

Robin was not only her boss but also her mentor, the one who had helped an heiress from a bankrupt, fallen elite family claw her way back to relevance. Iris owed her current position at Avalon to Robin. Just yesterday, that same mentor had secured a promotion that came around once every five years, only to watch Iris turn it down.

Why? Because Iris had believed Alfred would finally make their relationship public. She had been ready to shift her priorities and center her life on the family she thought she would build with him.

The expression on Robin's face at the time still lingered in her mind, a mix of shock and deep dismay.

Iris shook herself out of the memory and filled out the form.

Shortly after, Robin sent another message.

Robin: [You do not need to submit this form if you are still declining the promotion, love.]

Iris: [Who said anything about declining it?]

A few minutes later, a voice note came through. "Let me confirm this with you. You are sure about this, Iris?"

"I am more than ready to go. Thank you for securing this opportunity for me. I will not let you down again," Iris replied in her own voice note.

Robin's response was brief. "Good."

The tension in her mentor's tone eased into something steadier and more supportive.

Iris felt a corresponding sense of relief. So what if she had lost a relationship? Her career was still intact, and it was about to reach a new height.

She set her phone down and fetched a cardboard box, then began gathering everything in her apartment that belonged to Alfred.

Only then did she realize how little of it was truly his. Most of the items had been bought or prepared by her. Alfred rarely liked visiting her apartment. He used to say it made him sad to see her living in such a cramped, uncomfortable place. He would add that he felt guilty for being so honest because he did not want to hurt her pride.

She had believed him. She had even been touched.

Now, she understood the truth. He had simply hated how small her apartment felt for a man of his stature.

Iris smirked and taped the box shut. She would throw it out tomorrow.

Her phone rang again. This time it was her best friend and colleague, Florence "Flora" Wiles, the only person Iris had trusted enough to tell about her relationship with Alfred.

"Riri, why did I wait an entire day for your official announcement with Alfred, only to see him introduce some other woman?" Florence asked without preamble.

"Because we broke up," Iris said flatly.

"Huh? Who breaks up like that?" Florence scoffed. "Ugh. I get you, sis. I will swing by the farmer's market tomorrow and bring you some fresh produce. He loves your homemade veggie broth, right?"

Florence sounded more mildly surprised than alarmed. She did not ask how or why it happened. She had grown accustomed to hearing about Alfred's unreasonable moods.

Besides, in the past, all it usually took to patch things up was Iris' cooking. The pattern had become so routine that it never felt serious.

"Flora, it is serious this time. I got into a car accident. Instead of sending me into a coma, it snapped me out of one," Iris said lightly before giving a brief explanation of what had happened.

Florence sucked in a sharp breath.

"He did what? He faked amnesia just to break up with you? What the actual fuck?" Her voice shifted, edged with worry. "Oh God, Riri. Are you hurt? Are you okay? Do you want me to come over?"

Warmth spread through Iris' chest. At least she still had a real friend. "I'm fine. No need to worry. I just need a routine checkup before work tomorrow."

"You should rest right now, sis." Florence hesitated. "And seriously, you are not thinking about helping that asshole 'recover' his memories, are you?"

Iris pressed her lips together. "No."

…

The morning had already dawned.

By the time Alfred woke, Regina was no longer beside him. He slipped into a robe and headed downstairs.

Ruth, the housekeeper, greeted him at once. "Good morning, Mr. Sinclair. Miss Quinn has been up early and prepared breakfast for you."

Alfred smiled. "Good."

She really was the perfect match for him. She could cook and clean the sheets. In bed, she played like a freak. More importantly, her social standing matched his perfectly, unlike Iris.

His expression darkened at the thought of her. That bitch had actually grown a spine and refrained from calling him nonstop through the night.

Regina emerged from the kitchen carrying a tray. "Freddy, you're up! Breakfast's ready."

"Good," Alfred replied flatly as he took his seat.

Regina lifted the cover to reveal a plate of toast, slices of fried ham, and a cup of iced coffee.

As she set the coffee down, Alfred frowned.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

Alfred poured himself a cup of water. "I don't like coffee in the morning. I also prefer something more substantial for breakfast. This is too simple for my taste, babe. I thought I told you that before."

Regina looped her arms around his neck and pouted, putting on her cutest expression. "But this is the best I can do, babe."

Alfred's expression remained unchanged. "You can start learning new recipes today. Iris—"

Iris had once been helpless in the kitchen as well, raised as a rich heiress. Yet for him, she had learned countless recipes anyway. If he mentioned a craving during the day, she would find the perfect dish by evening. By the next morning, it would be waiting for him on the table.

Alfred cut off the thought and replaced it with a lie. "I only share my food preferences with my closest acquaintances, all right?"

"All right, all right. I'll see what I can learn. For now, just enjoy what we have, okay?" Regina replied sweetly.

Her smile looked as gentle as ever, as if she had not heard Iris' name slip from his lips. Only her icy eyes betrayed her true emotions.

Alfred did not respond. He waved at Ruth instead. "Bring me a bowl of the homemade veggie broth."

Ruth shook her head, clearly uncomfortable. "I'm very sorry, Mr. Sinclair, but I don't know how to make the one you like. Only Miss McGuire knew how."

A veggie broth's simplicity was deceptive. To make a good one, the vegetables had to be chosen and balanced with care. One wrong choice could turn the soup bitter and ruin both its flavor and appearance.

Most people never bothered to look up recipes for broth. It was just soup, after all. Who would waste time perfecting something so basic?

Alfred's displeasure showed. "Excuse me? You're telling me she didn't leave the recipe behind?"

Iris was the only one who truly understood his preferences for taste and texture.

In the past, whenever they argued, she tried to mend things with food. She would travel all the way to the suburban farms to buy the freshest produce. After he finished the meal, she would apologize sweetly and try to ingratiate herself with him.

That was how things had always worked. It was the natural order.

Ruth pressed her lips together. "No, sir."

Alfred slammed his cup onto the table. 'So Iris has learned a few new tricks, after all.'

He smirked and motioned for Regina to start eating. Then he strode into the living room and pulled out his phone.

"Let's see what new ways this bitch has found to cling to me," he muttered.

Alfred: [Where is the veggie broth recipe? Tell me now.]

The message failed to send. Only then did he realize that Iris had blocked him. He let out a scornful laugh and tossed the phone onto the couch.

"She is really committing to this 'I don't need you anymore' act. Fine. I hope she keeps it up. It will be pathetic for her to crawl back and beg me to take her in again," Alfred mumbled.

Regina clenched her fists, struggling to keep the fury off her face.

After returning to her room, she called her bodyguard. "I need you to do something for me."

"As you wish, Miss Quinn."

…

The first thing Iris did after waking was glance at the clock.

It was 8:00 a.m.

She jolted upright, then remembered that she had already broken up with Alfred. There was no reason to rush to his villa to make breakfast anymore.

Old habits really did die hard. Still, it supposedly took only about 28 days to form a new one.

Iris hooked the edge of the blanket with her foot, stretched, and drifted back to sleep. Weekends were meant for sleeping in.

…

That afternoon, Iris had to go to the hospital for her checkup.

While she walked, an autumn shower began. Cold wind and rain clung to her skin. She drew her neck in against the chill and lowered her umbrella.

Suddenly, a hand reached from behind and clamped over her mouth and nose. The umbrella blocked the struggle from the view of nearby pedestrians as she was dragged into an alley.