Chapter 1

I hung up immediately.

The screen went black. Kaelin’s smug face and that glaring red lip mark on Soren’s cheek disappeared into the darkness.

I let out a long breath. All I felt was exhausted.

For five years, every fight with Soren started the exact same way.

"Quit that ridiculous designer job, Maeve. Stay at the estate. Be my wife."

He always gave me orders in that unquestionable tone.

If I turned down his invitations because I had to finish my sketches, the punishment would arrive right on schedule.

He’d wait until I was driven mad with jealousy, crying and bowing my head, completely submitting to his control. Only then would Soren give me that gentle smile.

In the past, I would feel guilty for neglecting him. I would compromise. I would give in.

But now, looking at the "Fifth Anniversary" reminder on my phone, my mind was crystal clear.

I was never giving up my career.

And I definitely wasn't going to spend the rest of my life as a canary tied to the throne of his mafia empire.

I was done playing this absurd game of punishment.

Tonight, I had booked the most expensive penthouse suite at The Peninsula.

It was supposed to be a surprise for our anniversary.

Now, it seemed entirely pointless.

I grabbed my car keys and drove to the hotel, ready to cancel everything.

Pushing open the doors to the suite, I caught a whiff of a familiar perfume.

It was Kaelin’s.

She was standing by the floor-to-ceiling windows, leisurely swirling champagne in a crystal glass.

Hearing the door, she turned around.

The moment I saw what she was wearing, my heart skipped a beat, and my blood boiled.

It was a pure black lace nightgown.

I had stayed up late for a whole month, sewing it stitch by stitch as an anniversary gift to wear for Soren tonight.

Now, it was clinging tightly to Kaelin’s curves.

"Maeve, you’re here?" Kaelin didn't look ashamed at all. Instead, she laughed boldly. "Since I’m the one who has the right to kiss Soren now, why don't I just take over tonight's date for you?"

I glared at her.

"Take the dress off."

I didn't care who Soren dated, but that dress was my blood, sweat, and tears. I wasn't letting anyone else taint it.

Kaelin shrugged. "Don't be so stingy, Maeve. Or are you planning to apologize to Soren tonight? That doesn't sound like you."

"I’ll say it one last time. Take it off," I said, my voice hardening. "I poured my heart into that. You have no right to touch it."

Right then, Soren walked in.

He wore a perfectly tailored black suit, exuding the cold, arrogant aura of a mafia boss.

The moment Kaelin saw him, her arrogance melted into pitiful, teary eyes.

Like a startled prey, she threw herself into his arms, her hands tightly gripping his shirt.

"Soren, I wanted to talk to Maeve for you, to help you guys make up. But she refused. She said she doesn't even care about tonight's date and wants to give it to me." Her voice was full of grievance. "She said she only wants the dress. I had no idea a dress was more important to her than you..."

Soren’s brows instantly furrowed as he glared at me.

Watching Kaelin twist the truth, I opened my mouth to speak, but Soren let out a cold sneer:

"How generous of you. Or is this your new way of playing hard to get?"

I met his gaze head-on. "I’m not that bored. Think whatever you want. I just want my dress back."

Soren’s anger flared, his eyes turning terrifyingly dark.

My indifference had clearly set him off.

No one ever dared to disobey him, let alone look at him with such apathy.

"Are you giving me an order?" he narrowed his eyes.

He wrapped an arm tightly around Kaelin’s waist.

She leaned softly against his shoulder, shooting me a triumphant look behind his back.

Soren scoffed, pulling a black card from his inner jacket pocket with one hand.

Smack.

He tossed it mercilessly at my feet.

"Take the money and get out." He looked down at me like I was a beggar. "I’m buying the dress for her. Now, don't interrupt our anniversary date."

He made sure to emphasize the words "anniversary date."

I glanced down at the black card but didn't bend to pick it up.

It was a handout of his arrogance, and the final knife that severed our five-year relationship.

"Suit yourself. I don't want dirty things anyway," I said, lifting my chin, my voice ice-cold.

Soren’s brows knit tightly.

My pushback caught him off guard.

But he would never bow his head to a woman.

With a cold, silent expression, he kept his arm around Kaelin and walked right past me toward the master bedroom.

Bang.

The heavy door slammed shut in my face, completely severing five years of love.