Chapter 3 Go On, Have Fun with Your Sweetheart

Kyle stood behind Candice, a chill radiating from his face.

Candice seemed to sense the shift in the room’s attention and glanced back over her shoulder.

So, he was here after all.

Then she turned back again, eyes settling on the short-haired girl lounging on the sofa. When Candice walked in earlier, the girl had been smugly twirling her hair, legs crossed, looking so pleased with herself.

But now, that smirk had vanished, her face dark as thunder, glaring at Candice like she wanted to tear her apart.

Clearly, the two had been here socializing with friends. Judging from the comments she'd overheard, it wasn’t their first time. So they were already going public, showing up together like they had nothing to hide.

Kyle walked over.

Instantly, the room seemed to spring back to life, as if released from a spell.

“Sis, we’re so sorry! We were just talking nonsense. Total trash talk!”

“Yeah, sis, there’s nothing going on between Kyle and Miss Jones, really.”

“Please, don’t take it seriously!”

…

Kyle grabbed Candice’s wrist and tried to drag her out.

Candice turned and splashed her drink right in his face.

Silence. The entire room froze, every scalp tingling with dread. How did she dare...

And then, smiling sweetly, she said in a soft, pleasant voice, “Go on, have fun with your little sweetheart. I won’t ruin the mood.”

With that, she looked down and started prying his hand off.

Kyle’s face darkened, and with a grunt, he simply hoisted her up over his shoulder and stormed out.

Everyone in the room: “……”

Out in the hallway, Candice wriggled furiously on Kyle’s back.

Just as they reached the elevator, the doors opened.

As Kyle turned around, Candice caught sight of a pair of sleek black leather shoes, tailored black slacks hugging long, straight legs, and a pale, lean hand hanging at his side—every finger elegant and sculpted like carved jade.

The atmosphere turned heavy and awkward.

As they stepped out of the elevator, Candice couldn’t help but glance up—only to meet a pair of sharp, deep-set peach blossom eyes watching her with unreadable coolness.

Candice: “…”

She quickly covered her face and ducked her head.

Outside the club.

Kyle tossed Candice into the back seat of the car and climbed in after her.

Candice, dizzy and nauseated from being upside down and then flung into the car, felt like she might actually have a concussion.

Kyle pulled a wet wipe from the glove compartment to clean his face.

Candice’s sharp eyes caught something tucked behind the tissue box—looked suspiciously like a condom. Her ears were still ringing with his angry voice: “What were you doing there? Spying on me?”

She opened the car door to get out.

Too filthy in here.

“…Candice!” Kyle snapped and yanked her back. “Where do you think you're going? You’re really not done with this tantrum?”

Candice’s breath came a little faster. She pressed her fingers to her temples. “I want to go home.”

Kyle waved Terry over to drive.

The ride back was silent. Candice sat as far from him as she could, her face pale, looking like she might throw up any second.

Once home, she got out of the car and went straight to the kitchen, downing an entire glass of ice water in one go before she finally felt somewhat normal again.

When she came out, Kyle was in the living room. Candice sat down across from him.

The silence between them was suffocating—until Kyle finally spoke first.

“I was there for business. Barging into the club like that and making a scene—do you think you were doing me a favor? You looked like a complete fool. Do you even realize how ridiculous, how ugly you were, like a damn shrew?”

“Anything else?” Candice asked calmly.

“If you still want a future with me, then drop the pointless paranoia. I don’t have time to babysit your moods.”

“Okay. Anything else?”

“…Candice,” Kyle frowned, “do you realize how annoying you’re being right now?”

Candice stood, the corners of her lips lifting into a smile.

You won’t be annoyed for much longer.

She headed upstairs.

Kyle, irritated by that smile, sat in the living room for a while before finally going up. When he entered the bedroom, she was already asleep.

He took a shower and lay down next to her.

In the darkness, Candice turned her back to him and scooted further away—keeping every inch of her body out of contact with his.

Kyle pulled her back into his arms, forcibly dragging her from the edge of the bed. His grip was hard, tinged with frustration.

His tall, strong frame easily trapped her. Once he held tight, she couldn’t move at all.

She lay there stiffly the entire night.

The next morning, Candice only made breakfast for herself.

Kyle came downstairs, saw her sitting alone eating toast, and turned toward the door—but then changed course and approached the dining table. He leaned down and whispered in a gentle tone, as if trying to coax her, “Let’s go sailing this weekend, just the two of us.”

Candice sipped her milk and answered with a vague nasal hum.

Unsurprisingly, the day before the weekend arrived, he canceled again—said he had to fly to Hong Kong.

Candice felt nothing.

Maybe he hadn’t noticed, but it had been ages since they’d had a proper meal together. Ages since they’d spent quality time. He kept warning her not to even think about divorce, but in truth, she was already invisible to him. If she disappeared one day, he wouldn’t even notice.

On the weekend, Candice pulled her books off the shelf and packed them into a suitcase—moving them to her new place.

While shelving her books, she received a call from her mother-in-law, who rarely contacted her.

Candice answered politely. “Hello, Ms. Jenkins.”

Caroline Jenkins responded haughtily, “Come by the house. Let’s formalize the agreement we discussed.”

“Is that really necessary?”

“If I say it is, then it is.”

“Fine, I’ll come this afternoon.”

“No. Come at noon.”

“…Okay.”

Candice figured she had no plans anyway, so she agreed.

On the other end, Caroline Jenkins stood upstairs, looking down with satisfaction at Mia Jones walking arm-in-arm with Kyle in the garden.

She’d make sure Candice saw what a perfect match really looked like—who was truly meant for her son.