Chapter 2

When Celia learned the identity erasure would take two weeks to process, she talked it over with Martin and Ruth. They agreed she should go back to the Keller estate.

For the next two weeks, she had to stay by Roman's side and make sure he did not notice anything out of the ordinary. If he caught on, none of them would make it out.

Once she was back at the villa, Celia began going through her things. She threw all of it into the fireplace. The photos they had taken together, the love letters Roman had written her, the souvenirs from every trip.

The flames swallowed everything, like a ridiculous dream burning itself out.

The next day, Celia went to the backyard. An entire row of sycamore trees stood there, every one of them planted by Roman's own hands. He had told her sycamores were a symbol of faithfulness, just like his love for her. It was something that would never wither.

Celia picked up an axe and cut them down one by one.

The housekeepers watched from a distance, too afraid to come closer or stop her. Each trunk split with a dull, grating crack, like an obsession being hacked apart by force.

The day after that, Celia drove up to Lover's Cliff.

A love-shaped lock hung from the railing with both their names engraved on it. Years ago, Roman had held her in his arms and tossed the key over the edge, telling her they would be bound together for the rest of their lives.

Celia cut the chain with a pair of pliers. The lock hit the ground with a sharp, clean ring.

She turned and walked away without looking back even once.

When she returned to the villa, there were two people in the living room who had not been there before. Roman sat on the couch with Lana nestled against his chest. Her face was pale, making her look so fragile as though a breeze might knock her over.

Celia walked past them without expression and headed straight for the stairs.

"Stop." Roman's voice came from behind her, flat and cold.

Celia stopped but did not turn around.

"Do you know why I brought her back?" he asked.

"I don't care."

"After you shipped Lana overseas, she couldn't adjust. She barely slept for days." His tone carried an edge of accusation. "Celia, apologize to her."

Celia finally turned around and looked at the two of them. Lana was clutching Roman's sleeve with a timid expression, though a flicker of satisfaction passed through her eyes.

"What if I don't?" Celia asked calmly.

"It's fine, really..." Lana's voice came out soft and fragile. "I can handle a little unfairness. After all... she's the wife."

Roman immediately pulled her closer. "Haven't I told you to stop being so selfless?"

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "You have me now. Whatever you want, it's yours."

Celia felt the corner of her mouth twitch. The irony was almost suffocating.

One of the housekeepers brought out a cup of chamomile tea, prepared specially for Lana.

Just then, Roman's phone rang. He glanced at the screen and spoke to Lana in a gentle voice. "You always get a headache when I talk shop. I'll take this outside. Drink your tea."

He stood and left the room.

Celia remained where she was. Something in her chest felt as though it had been hit with a blunt object. He had never taken business calls outside before, not when they involved confidential matters. Now, for Lana, he was willing to change even that.

The living room was empty now except for the two of them.

The fragility vanished from Lana's face in an instant, replaced by the smugness of someone who had already won.

"See?" She let out a quiet, satisfied laugh. "You might be Mrs. Keller, and you might've used that title to ship me off, but his body and his heart are both with me."

Celia looked at her with disinterest. "If you want him, he's yours."

Lana blinked, caught off guard, then her expression twisted with anger. "I don't need your permission! He'll be mine sooner or later, and so will your place in this house."

Celia did not react, which only made Lana angrier.

Then the sound of Roman's footsteps came from the hallway. Something vicious flashed through Lana's eyes. She snatched the scalding cup of chamomile tea and poured it over herself.

"Ah!" She let out a shriek and burst into tears on cue.

Roman rushed in to find Lana drenched and trembling, the tea still dripping from her clothes and her face a picture of tearful devastation.

"Celia!" His brow creased with barely contained fury. "It wasn't enough that you refused to apologize? You had to do this to her?"

"I didn't do it," Celia said calmly. "Check the security cameras."

"Fine. I will." He let out a cold, humorless laugh.

Lana immediately grabbed his arm, her voice breaking. "Roman, it's not her fault... I shouldn't have been foolish enough to think I could stay by your side. I'll go now..."

She managed a single step before Roman pulled her back.

"I just got you back, and you want to disappear on me again? Are you trying to kill me?"

He held her tight, the way a person held something precious they thought they had lost. Then he turned to Celia, and his eyes were cold enough to cut. "I'll make sure she gets justice for this."

Celia was locked in the cold storage room.

She struggled as the bodyguards dragged her inside. "Roman! Check the cameras! I didn't do it!"

He did not even look at her. "No need. I only believe her."

The heavy door slammed shut.

Darkness and freezing air swallowed Celia whole. She curled up in the corner, shaking, though the cold inside her ran deeper than anything in that room.

This was how he treated the person he claimed to love most.

The tears came before she could stop them.

She had always run cold, for as long as she could remember. After they married, Roman had spent a fortune installing a climate control system throughout the house, keeping even the outdoor courtyard warm in every season.

In winter, he used to pull her freezing hands and feet against his chest and laugh. "I'll keep you warm for the rest of our lives."

Looking back now, a promise was probably only real in the moment it was made.