Chapter 3

The wedding photos had been circulating in our class group chat for days.

The bride, no surprise, was Riley.

My closest friend from college.

She came from a small village, plain-looking, always in thick glasses. Studied like her life depended on it. Fierce pride. When a professor mocked her accent for smelling like dirt, her face burned red—but she never bowed her head.

I was the one who reached out first. Invited her into Owen's and my study group.

Maybe it was their similar backgrounds. The same core of who they were.

They clicked. Or maybe—they were just cut from the same cloth.

The cheap food I couldn't stomach? They both loved it. The bright, colorful clothes I gravitated toward? They both preferred dark, wash-and-wear black shirts. When we had to pick between two project topics, they'd always silently choose the other one at the same time.

But every interaction between them had me in the middle. They kept their distance, never crossed a line. So it never crossed my mind—not even once—that something was going on.

After grad school, Riley hit a wall in her career. She came to me for help. I wanted to pull her up—got her a job at my father's company, and asked Owen to look out for her.

Unlike our old three-person dynamic, I wasn't there between them anymore.

That's when it started. The two of them.

Why Riley?

Probably because Owen, who'd been hiding himself for so long, could finally just be with her. No mask. No act.

I stayed in the dark. Right up until the wedding day.

Riley threw herself into Owen's arms, tears streaming down her face:

"You did it! Ten years undercover—you can finally be yourself again!"

Ten years. That was the first time I ever met the real Owen.

He just stood there, silent and still, watching me from across the room. Like I was the one on trial.

I had so many questions.

What's going to happen to my father? When did you and her start? And—when did you start lying to me?

But he didn't give me the chance.

He walked over with Riley, his voice cold: "Your father won't be detained during the investigation. Pack him a few changes of clothes and bring them to the station."

He saw the mascara running down my face. For a split second, something flickered in his expression.

I threw my bouquet right at his face.

Then grabbed a glass of wine and hurled it at him.

It splattered across Riley's pink bridesmaid dress.

She whimpered, turning to Owen: "Don't go soft on her, Owen. Loving her was just part of the act. You wouldn't actually fall for your own performance... would you?"

That snapped him back.

He picked up another glass and poured it straight over my head.

"Now we're even. That's for Riley. When you sober up—then we'll talk."

He walked out with her on his arm.

I barely slept for days.

Our villa got seized. Assets frozen. I dodged reporters while scrambling to find a lawyer for my father.

The verdict came back: no way out.

That was when I learned—my father was a villain to the world.

My entire worldview shattered in an instant.

People are complicated. No one's purely evil. He'd done terrible things, but he also loved his daughter, gave to charities, built schools.

And no one's purely good either.

Like Owen.

The media crowned him "Shadow of Justice," "The Dawn Breaker." But I caught him kissing Riley in what was supposed to be our honeymoon house.

I didn't even have the strength to fight anymore.

I passed out.

"So what happened to you?!" Jordan pressed, urgent.

"After that... I don't remember much. I almost died, I think."