1 At my mother’s funeral, Mr. Davies, our family butler, suddenly received evidence of my fiancé’s infidelity. "Miss White, Mr. Harrington’s mistress has given birth to a child!" Nate Harrington offered no explanation, merely stating in a clipped, indifferent tone, "Just focus on the funeral for now." The next day, he didn't attend the wake. He simply called. "I've been at the luxury postpartum retreat, looking after her. I won't make it to the funeral." When I remained silent, he sighed. "Don't worry, she and I were just an accident. She has no intention of disrupting the alliance between the Harrington and White families. She just wants to keep the child as a remembrance." He paused, then continued, "But I am, after all, the father. I can't just abandon the child. After we're married, I'll stay at her place on Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays, and Sundays to care for the baby. Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, I'll be back at the Harrington Estate." I clenched my fists so tight my palms ached, a bitter laugh bubbling up, hot tears stinging my eyes. "Nate Harrington, we're done. The engagement is off." He scoffed. "Your mother just passed. Don't throw a tantrum." I ended the call abruptly, then turned, walking straight up to Nate Harrington’s sworn rival. "Marry me. Help me take down the Harringtons. Interested?" At the funeral, a flicker of astonishment crossed Chris Walker's eyes. His stern face slowly flushed a faint red as he stammered, "Our family tradition dictates one wife for life. Marry me, and you're mine, forever." Seeing his hesitation, I turned to leave in disappointment, but he suddenly grabbed my wrist. His usually untamed eyes were now earnest, his gaze intense. "Anna White, think this through. Once we’re married, there's no going back." A faint smile touched my lips, and I nodded with certainty. "Good. No going back." Chris Walker was, in fact, the fiancé my mother had chosen for me years ago. His character, family background, and upbringing were all impeccable. If I hadn't made the mistake of falling for Nate Harrington back then, I would have married Chris. The funeral arrangements were complex, and Chris spent a solid two weeks helping me manage all the affairs, tirelessly handling every detail. During that entire time, Nate Harrington didn't make a single call. For those two weeks, every time I scrolled through my social media feed, I’d see intimate photos of him and Scarlett Vance. They were always beaming, holding the baby, making a heart shape with their hands. The caption: "Our dearest, most beloved family." I sneered, a sharp pang of envy twisting in my gut. Just then, his call came through, his voice laced with a lazy indifference. "Funeral's over, right? Want to come to the postpartum retreat to see the kid?" I gazed at my haggard reflection in the rearview mirror, my voice flat. "Nate Harrington, we're already broken up." A moment of silence on the other end, then he nonchalantly replied, "Good. Scarlett's been a little depressed postpartum. Seeing you might upset her." The tears I’d held back for half a month finally spilled. My eyes burned, and I laughed, a self-deprecating sound. "Nate, I said we're broken up. Are you deaf?" He paused, then scoffed. "Anna, you've been with me for five years. I'm practically bored of you. Who else would want you once I'm done? I told you, the kid was just an accident. Why are you so stubborn?" Before I could retort, the sound of shattering porcelain echoed from his end of the line. He sneered. "Fine, if you want to break up, break up. I'll be waiting to see you crawl back and beg me." The call ended abruptly, the dial tone a rude assault. I returned to the Harrington Estate, only to find the entry code had been changed. Nate Harrington’s calls went straight to voicemail, so I found a random hotel to stay the night. The next morning, a social media notification popped up: a live stream from the postpartum retreat. Scarlett Vance was animatedly interacting with the camera, while Nate Harrington sat beside her, his gaze doting. That tender look… I’d once believed it belonged only to me. The stream had been going for nearly five hours. Fans flooded the comments: "So jealous of the streamer, living in a half-million-dollar-a-month retreat with her husband constantly by her side!" "So blessed! I want a perfect husband like that!" Before inheriting Harrington Corp, Nate Harrington had been a decorated military officer, notoriously averse to public appearances. In the past, I’d begged him for a single photo together, and he'd always refused with a cold expression. Yet now, for Scarlett Vance, he was making an exception, openly flaunting their affection live for the entire nation. Scarlett beamed. "He's just so thoughtful~" Thoughtful? A searing pain, like a knife twisting in my gut, ripped through my chest. I smiled, wiping away the tears in the corner of my eye. For me, Nate Harrington had never once done anything thoughtful. I remembered begging him to watch a movie with me, relentlessly nagging him until he finally agreed. But during the two-hour film, he’d slept for an hour and a half, then woken up, rubbing his temples, and disdainfully remarked, "Spending time with you is a waste of time." He wasn't incapable of caring; he just chose not to care for me. Nate must have recognized my social media account. He called again. "You have thirty minutes. Come to the postpartum retreat to pick up your mother's belongings." By the time I arrived, the live stream was over. Scarlett Vance greeted me with a syrupy sweet smile. "Anna, you came to see us!" I walked straight to Nate Harrington, holding out my hand. "Give them to me." His previously upturned lips instantly tightened, his face darkening. "Scarlett spoke to you. Are you deaf?" I forced a smile, turning to Scarlett. "Congratulations, Ms. Vance, on getting what you wanted and bearing a child out of wedlock. What's next? Using the baby to climb the social ladder?" “Crack!” A stinging slap landed hard across my face. Nate Harrington smashed the teacup in his hand to the floor. "If you can't say anything decent, shut up!" Scarlett suddenly clutched her stomach, crying out in pain, tears splashing onto the floor. Nate instantly tensed. "Scarlett, what is it? Where does it hurt?" She bit her lip, her eyes red and tearful as she looked at me. "Anna, I didn't want to ruin things between you and Mr. Harrington, but the doctor said this might be my only chance to be a mother. Don't worry, I'll leave as soon as I've recovered from childbirth. I promise I won't cling to him." She then looked at the baby in the cradle. "Mommy is so sorry, my little one. You were born without a father, but Mommy didn't mean to. I hope you can forgive Mommy..." She dissolved into wrenching sobs, appearing utterly consumed by pain and sorrow. Nate's gaze at me turned venomous, his entire demeanor chilling. "Are you happy now, making her cry?" I scoffed. "Such amateur dramatics. Only you'd be so entertained." My attitude infuriated Nate Harrington. He tore the pocket watch — my mother's heirloom — from around his neck, raising it high, about to smash it to the ground. My pupils constricted. "No! Don't!" He didn't stop. He flung the watch with brute force, sending it crashing to the ground. The watch face shattered, fragments scattering across the floor. I stumbled over the sharp corner of a table, my bone cracking against it. A searing pain shot through me, making me hiss through clenched teeth. Nate Harrington sneered. "That's what you get for being disrespectful." He waved his hand dismissively. "Now get out. Don't bother trying to play victim here." Scarlett Vance cast a look of feigned concern my way. "Anna, please get up. Mr. Harrington saw you faking a fall…" I gritted my teeth, shooting her a frigid glare. Seeing me dare to glare at Scarlett, Nate yanked me from the floor. "Scarlett has a lot of soiled clothes from postpartum care. Go wash them. Make sure you handwash them all before you leave." I yanked my arm away. "Why should I?" "Because you just bullied Scarlett!" Nate Harrington's face was terrifyingly dark. "You owe her an apology!" I endured the piercing pain in my foot, straightening my back. "Dream on!" Nate's eyes turned to ice. He shoved me into the bathroom. "Bang!" He locked the door from the outside. "You're not coming out until they're spotless!" "Nate Harrington, this is kidnapping!" I rattled the doorknob with all my might, screaming, "Let me out!" The door vibrated from my pounding, but outside, an eerie silence had fallen. My hands burned, and my foot throbbed with excruciating pain. The room reeked of sour milk and vomit. I collapsed, kneeling weakly on the floor. Through the door, I heard Scarlett's saccharine voice. "Mr. Harrington, won't Anna be angry when she comes out if you treat her like this?" Nate scoffed softly. "So what if she's angry? I can always smooth things over later. Besides, this is her fault. If she doesn't get rid of that spoiled princess attitude, who's going to put up with her when she marries into the Harrington family?" "The Harrington family has a history of military service. If there weren't so few heirs to Harrington Corp, my mother wouldn't have let me marry a socialite heiress. She's useless, except for spending money." Scarlett feigned worry. "Mr. Harrington, if you say that about Anna, won't she break up with you?" Silence fell outside the room. After a long pause, Nate Harrington's cold, arrogant voice returned. "She won't." "She's a socialite with no inheritance rights. The Harrington family is her best option. Besides, she loves me to death. If I told her to die, she'd probably do it." I clutched my chest, refusing to believe I was hearing such words from Nate Harrington. 2 Our family, the Whites, had always been in business, and we were often targeted by underworld figures. Six years ago, my mother and I were traveling abroad when she was ambushed by thugs. They held a gun to her temple. I screamed myself hoarse, convinced I was about to lose her. At that critical moment, a rushing sound cut through the air. The thugs dropped dead instantly. Nate Harrington stood there, gun in hand, dressed in his military uniform—broad-shouldered, lean-waisted, and decisive. He saved my mother and me with swift precision. I saw his face clearly in the army’s SUV: exquisite features, a proud, sharp nose. It was love at first sight. For an entire year, I relentlessly pursued him, until he finally agreed to date me. For five years, I was completely devoted to him, obeying his every word. This was the gratitude my genuine love received. It was laughable. The bathroom door opened. Nate saw me huddled on the floor, pale, and unhappily pulled me to my feet. "I only told you to wash some clothes. Why are you squatting here, playing the victim for show?" Acid churned in my stomach, rising to my throat. I forced it down, fighting the urge to vomit as I searched for my mother's belongings. The pocket watch was utterly shattered, broken into countless pieces. I picked them up, one by one. Nate's voice came from behind me. "Once Scarlett recovers from childbirth, we'll get married. And after the wedding, Scarlett will move in with us." Scarlett cast a grateful look my way. "Anna, thank you for accepting me and the baby. I'll be so grateful to you…" I ignored her empty words, turning to Nate. "No need. We won't be living together. I'm taking my mother's belongings. Give me the house code, and I'll have movers pick up my things." Nate rattled off a string of numbers, watching me with disdain. "Going to all this trouble, only to move back in eventually." Scarlett tugged at his sleeve, speaking timidly. "Mr. Harrington, the room…" Nate's eyes flashed, and he took Scarlett's hand, leading her into my car. "I'll come back with you, just to make sure you don't take anything by mistake." When we arrived at the house, I finally understood why Nate had insisted on coming back with me. On the sofa, adult novelty items were scattered. On the dining table, sensual candles sat. The bedroom exuded a tempting, illicit allure, with handcuffs attached to both the headboard and footboard of the bed. These past few days, I had been consumed by my mother's funeral arrangements. I hadn't been home much. Nate and Scarlett, it seemed, had made full use of their freedom. I walked into my dressing room and found my jewelry scattered everywhere. Several Hermes bags were also missing from their shelves. Scarlett followed behind me, a triumphant, subtle smile playing on her lips. "Anna, is anything missing?" She was desperate to see me explode. But I simply smiled faintly. "A mistress is just a mistress. Always resorting to petty theft." "You!" Scarlett gasped, her eyes flashing with malice. She cried out, clutching her stomach, and sank to the floor. "Anna, I just had a baby! How… how could you hit me…?" Nate stormed in, helping Scarlett to her feet. He was furious, his hand lashing out, delivering a hard slap to my face. "Anna White, I see you've been a socialite heiress for too long—arrogant and domineering!" Nate didn't hold back. My face swelled immediately. My temples throbbed with rage, and I nearly lost control. "I didn't hit her!" He didn't believe me. He yanked me out of the dressing room and flung me to the floor. "Get out. Go back to your White family. Don't come back until you've learned your lesson!" My burning anger slowly turned into a desperate sense of injustice. Infuriated, I surged forward and slapped Scarlett hard across the face. "Smack!" Nate, enraged, raised his hand to strike me again. I bit my lip, staring him down. "That one? That was from me." I turned and walked away, once again, undignified, tears welling in my eyes. Outside the door, rain poured down, soaking me to the bone. I curled up on the ground, sobbing uncontrollably. After a long time, I realized the rain had stopped hitting me. I looked up. Chris Walker had arrived, I didn't know when, holding an umbrella, shielding me the entire time. 3 He extended a hand to me, his voice laced with unconcealed tenderness. "Anna, I'll take you home." Back at the Walker family estate, I gazed at the familiar courtyard, the familiar housekeeper, Aunt Mae, and couldn't help but think of the past. Chris's mother and mine had been best friends since childhood. They had arranged our childhood engagement years ago. But back then, my mother and I often argued, and by extension, I didn't care for Aunt Mae or little Chris. After middle school, I went to Milan to study art. Chris was sent to England to study business administration. Our reunion, more than ten years later, was at my mother's funeral. Lost in thought, Chris's mother, Aunt Mae, approached me with a bowl of ginger tea. She anxiously, tenderly, pulled me into a hug. "That rascal Chris! Letting you get caught in such a downpour! I'll give him a talking-to for you!" "Mom?" I asked, confused. Chris looked away awkwardly, clearing his throat. "I'll go get you some dry clothes." After Chris left, Aunt Mae smiled as she handed me the ginger tea. "Chris already told us. You two are getting married very soon. You have to call me 'Mom,' dear." She chuckled. "Oh, I've been waiting for this day for so long. Let's set the date for the wedding—the one your mother chose before she passed. We won't change it." My mother had chosen a date for next month. It was supposed to be my wedding to Nate Harrington. The ginger tea in my mouth slowly warmed my body. At that moment, my eyes couldn't help but well up. The next day, Chris presented me with all the necessary wedding arrangements, asking me to review each one. I had originally thought that with such short notice, I wouldn't have time to prepare, perhaps even having to reuse the previous wedding planner's designs. But Chris had everything perfectly arranged, needing no input from me at all. It showed how much he cared. And Nate Harrington… after five years of dating, if I didn't press him about marriage, he wouldn't even have wanted to get married. All the big and small details of our wedding had been handled solely by me. Love or its absence was truly so obvious. Thinking of this, I called my former wedding planning team and canceled the wedding. The next second, my phone rang. It was Nate Harrington's mother. "Anna White, has your brain turned to mush? How can you be so capricious, canceling the wedding just like that?" Her voice was sharp. "What did Nate do to upset you this time? Can't you just put up with it? A socialite heiress with such a temper all the time—only our Nate would have you." No one in the Harrington family ever truly liked me. I used to think Nate’s mother was just tough on the outside, but kindhearted. Not until I heard Nate’s words at the postpartum retreat. Remembering that, I spoke calmly. "Aunt Harrington, Nate and I have broken up. The wedding, naturally, should be canceled." "Broken up? Did you anger Nate again? Then apologize! You're a girl; if you don't know how to charm your husband, later…" I didn't want to hear her scorn any longer. I hung up. The next day, Chris and I went to a bridal boutique to try on wedding dresses. He took a conference call midway, telling me to go ahead and try them on. I slipped into the gown Chris had specially flown in from Italy and smiled, admiring myself in the mirror. A sound came from behind me. I turned, still smiling, and blurted out, "How do I look?" A flash of stunned admiration crossed Nate Harrington's eyes. I quickly suppressed my smile, then saw Scarlett Vance emerge from another changing room. Nate's face darkened instantly. He reached out and roughly tore off my veil. "Oh, so this is it, Anna White! You say you don't want to get married, but here you are, secretly trying on wedding dresses. Playing hard to get, are we? Enjoying your little game?" His movements were brutal, ripping it off in a second. The sharp pin holding the veil to my hair sliced my face, drawing blood that welled up and dripped onto the million-dollar wedding dress, blooming into a crimson stain. I winced, a gasp of pain escaping me. "Nate Harrington, I'm not here for you!" Beside him, Scarlett's eyes instantly welled up, and she added fuel to the fire. "Anna, I really didn't mean to marry Mr. Harrington. I just wanted to take some wedding photos to keep as a memory." Nate sneered. "Why bother explaining to this kind of woman? Anna, I used to think you were just a bit dramatic, and I indulged you because I loved you. But I never imagined you'd be so reckless, even with our wedding. Fine, then! Let's just call this wedding off!" With that, he reached out, trying to rip off my wedding dress and throw me out of the boutique. I struggled with all my might. Just as he pinned my waist, preparing to strip me of my gown in front of everyone— Chris Walker arrived just in time. He tripped Nate, sending him sprawling, and swiftly caught me, his hands firm at my waist. "My wife is trying on her wedding dress. You, a so-called ex who should be dead to us, really have some nerve to act like this."
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