After my husband, Preston Vance, practically handed me over to his twin brother, I finally realized that in our three years of marriage, this untouchable, elite heir had never once felt anything for me. The woman he loved was my older cousin. "I don't love you. The family wants a child, so just have one with Parker," he'd said. Yet, when I stood in front of him holding a positive pregnancy test, his eyes grew red. "Did you actually fall in love with my brother?" I didn't answer. Behind me, someone knocked on the bedroom door. A lazy, arrogant voice drifted in. "Open up, sister-in-law. It's me, your 'husband'." 01 For three years of marriage, Preston was ascetic and untouchable, never laying a finger on me. He claimed that his dedication to a stoic, disciplined lifestyle meant he couldn't break his vows. So, I took the initiative to sleep in separate rooms, giving him space. Until his wild, rebellious twin brother, Parker Vance, returned from abroad. I accidentally overheard a conversation between the two of them. "Parker, you take my place and consummate the marriage with Chloe." Preston's tone was indifferent, as if he were casually mentioning a stranger. The next second, a lazy, slightly thuggish voice rang out: "Did all that meditating fry your brain? She's not my wife. Wait a minute, could it be..." He paused for a moment, a hint of schadenfreude creeping into his voice: "Are you impotent?" Preston didn't get angry. He sat calmly in his armchair, turning a jade signet ring on his finger: "I just feel nothing for someone I don't love." That simple sentence nailed me to the spot. Snap. The expensive pen Parker had been toying with suddenly snapped in half. He bent down to pick it up as if nothing had happened, the corner of his mouth twitching up. "Oh? Is that so? If you don't love her, who do you love?" Preston was silent for a moment. My heart rose into my throat. Until I heard him speak a name I was incredibly familiar with. "Serena Sterling." My cousin, the one hailed as America's sweetheart, who had abruptly announced her retirement from acting three years ago and immigrated overseas. Hearing that name, I couldn't help but recall events from a long time ago. 02 Preston and I had known each other since we were kids. In middle school, he fell seriously ill and was sent to a private, secluded retreat to recover. We lost touch after that. We met again during our senior year of high school. He took the initiative to have someone bring me a letter. Opening the plain envelope, the boy's elegant, sharp handwriting met my eyes. [It's boring here.] Just four words. But for someone harboring a secret crush on Preston, it was like a spark lighting a prairie fire. I thought he was hinting for me to come visit him. So, as soon as school let out, I immediately packed my bags and went to the retreat to find him. When we met, Preston was dressed in simple, tailored clothes, his aura as cold and distant as ever. His gaze drifted behind me. "You came alone?" I didn't notice the disappointment in his eyes. I sincerely pulled the letter from my pocket: "Didn't you only write to me?" Preston froze, his brows furrowing slightly, but he quickly smoothed them out and turned to show me around the grounds. Ten minutes later, he brought me right back to the main entrance. "Alright, you've seen it. Go home." I was caught completely off guard: "That's it? Preston, can't you..." "That's enough," he cut me off, rubbing his tired eyes. "My time for quiet reflection has arrived. I can't keep you company." "Oh..." I lowered my head in disappointment and turned to leave. But Preston spoke again. "Don't come alone next time. It's not appropriate for a man and a woman to be alone together." Hearing the words "next time," my disappointment vanished instantly. I even eagerly found an excuse for his coldness today. He was just being shy! So, the next time we met, I dragged Parker, who had just finished cello practice, along with me. On the drive up, he wore an incredibly annoyed expression on a face that was identical to Preston's. "If you like him, just go by yourself! I don't even like the guy..." Desperate for his help, I quickly tried to coax him: "Oh, come on! Tell me what kind of girl you like, and I'll find one for you the second we get back down the mountain!" Parker stopped in his tracks, looked down at me, and then took three long strides up the steps, pulling away from me. The summer breeze carried his words to my ear. "I'm not telling you." I scoffed and quickly chased after the boy in black carrying the cello case. "Fine, keep your secrets." When we reached the entrance of the retreat, Preston was already waiting there. The moment he saw Parker beside me, his face darkened instantly. "Why did you bring him?" Before I could answer, Parker let out a cold sneer: "Got a problem with me being here?" Saying that, he bumped Preston's shoulder with one hand in his pocket and walked right into the building. This trip was just as unpleasant. While Parker went to the bathroom, Preston stood next to me and said coldly: "Bring a girl next time." I didn't understand his logic: "Why? Are you sexist?" He was silent for a moment, then suddenly looked down at me: "Because I'm jealous. Is that a good enough reason?" I was hit so hard by his sudden, blunt confession that it took me a long time to recover. I thought my teenage crush had finally been reciprocated. I couldn't wait to share it with my cousin, Serena Sterling, whom I was close with, and asked her to come with me next time. She didn't refuse. That time, when Preston saw the two of us, his eyes lit up. At the time, I thought he was happy because I hadn't brought a boy. Thinking back on it now, this giant iceberg only melted because he saw Serena. And I only discovered this truth after three years of marriage. I stood in the doorway of the study, my eyes involuntarily turning red. My heart felt like it was being pricked by needles, a dense, spreading pain. Preston... You clearly never liked me, did you? Then why did you marry me? 03 I sat on the sofa in a daze for a long time. Tears finally fell to the floor with a pat. I don't know when Preston walked into the living room. He stood tall in the shadows, his quiet eyes exceptionally cold. After staring at me for a long time, he finally spoke in annoyance: "Are you done crying? If you're done, I have some business to discuss with you." I didn't answer. I just haphazardly wiped the tears from my face, walked up to him, and stood on my tiptoes to kiss him. But the next second, he shoved me away violently. My waist hit the corner of the table hard. It hurt a lot. But not even a tenth as much as the disgust in Preston's eyes brought me. "Didn't I tell you on our wedding day? My disciplined lifestyle means I can't break my vows. Have you lost your mind?" "What if my cousin was standing in front of you?" Preston froze. Whatever he was thinking, his ears turned red as he gripped the jade signet ring in his hand tightly. He was aroused. But in front of me, he was still pretending. "Chloe, you're being unreasonable. What goes on between us has nothing to do with her." I punctured his lie directly: "How does it have nothing to do with her? Isn't she the one you love?" He froze again, a hint of panic flashing in his eyes. "You heard?" Before I could answer, he let out a sigh of relief. "Good. Then I'll just lay my cards on the table. "I don't love you. "The family wants a child, so just have one with Parker. "He looks exactly like me anyway. It shouldn't be hard for you to accept." Every word was like a sharp blade, grinding away my love for him. His casual tone also told me just how laughable my fifteen-year-long crush on him really was. I looked up to wipe away the tears that welled up again, only to lock eyes with Parker, who was leaning against the railing of the second-floor hallway. Ever since I married Preston, Parker had gone abroad to study music. This was the first time we had seen each other in three years. He still had the same sharp, arrogant, and untamed look in his eyes as before. And I was nothing but a mess. Preston followed my gaze and saw his brother. He said expressionlessly to the other man: "I've already talked to Chloe. You can stay here tonight." With that, he turned and left. He didn't even spare me a glance. Ignoring the fact that Parker was still there, I went crazy and smashed the antiques in the living room to pieces. Finally, drained of energy, I slumped to the floor, covered my face, and sobbed bitterly. Parker walked downstairs and crouched beside me. "Want to keep smashing? I'll buy new ones for you." I shook my head through my sobs, forcing a smile through the heartache: "I'm sorry. We finally get to see each other, and you have to witness this. Where are you staying tonight? I'll have the driver take you." He stared straight into my eyes, his gaze unreadable: "Didn't my brother tell me to stay here?" I froze, staring blankly at him. It took me a long time to find my voice. "You... you're serious?" It was absurd! How could Parker agree to such a thing?! "Can't I be?" He raised an eyebrow, his tone incredibly serious. I was so startled I scrambled backward: "Of course you can't! I'm your sister-in-law!" Parker suddenly dropped to one knee on the floor, advancing toward me with intense aggression: "And so what?" I was so terrified I scrambled up to run, but he caught up to me and scooped me up around the waist. "Parker Vance! Have you lost your fucking mind?!" "Tsk, such a dramatic reaction? You looked too sad, I was just messing with you." I paused. Being scared by him like that, I actually forgot to cry. He had already returned to his usual careless demeanor, gently placing me on the sofa. "Rest for a bit. I'll clean this up." Saying that, he poured me a glass of water. I caught sight of the tablet next to the sofa. It was Preston's. As if possessed by a ghost, I grabbed the tablet. I entered Serena Sterling's birthday. The tablet unlocked successfully. I opened his messages. Sure enough, Serena was his only pinned contact. The two of them were chatting right now. ... Serena: [Is this really going to work? What if Chloe doesn't get pregnant?] Preston: [She has to.] Serena: [I'm so sorry. I really didn't expect that my body wouldn't be able to handle a miscarriage...] Preston: [It's fine. It's my fault. I shouldn't have proposed to Chloe just to spite you. Now my parents love her so much, it's hard to get a divorce.] Serena: [Boohoo, then it is your fault! That night was your fault too! I told you to buy condoms! You insisted it would be fine! Now look what happened!] Preston: [Don't be mad, baby. It's my fault. When Chloe's child is born, I'll immediately swap it with ours.] Serena: [Then when are you going to marry me?] Preston: [Baby, can you wait a little longer? My parents won't agree to a divorce for a few years.] Serena: [Fine. So annoying! Hurry over here, I'm waiting to take a shower with you~] ... Reading their chat logs, my face turned pale. No wonder. No wonder Preston suddenly proposed to me three years ago. No wonder he suddenly wanted a child. It turned out, it was all for Serena. They... had been together all along. At the same time, my phone vibrated. It was Serena. Serena: [Hey Chloe! I'm back in the country today! When should we hang out?] I didn't reply to her. Instead, I looked over at Parker, who was sweeping the floor. The words Preston had said not long ago popped into my head. "He looks exactly like me anyway. It shouldn't be hard for you to accept." The same? They were completely different. Preston would never clean up the trash on the floor for me. Noticing my gaze, Parker walked over, raising an eyebrow in confusion: "Why are you looking at me? Not feeling well?" This was different too. Preston would never take the initiative to care about me. The tears I had just managed to stop flowed out uncontrollably again. He panicked instantly, fumbling to wipe my tears. "No, what's wrong, my little ancestor? Why are you crying again? Stop crying. When I'm done cleaning up, I'll go beat up my brother, okay? "And, to be brutally honest, if worse comes to worst, you can just find another guy. Haven't you seen plenty of couples in our circle who only look married on paper? "There's no need to hang yourself on a moron like my brother." With him caring so much, all the suppressed grievances in my heart exploded. "I know all the logic! But it hurts so much. I liked him for fifteen years, why is he treating me like this?" Parker gently raised his hand and used his thumb to wipe away the tears at the corner of my eyes: "I get it. Later, I'll take you for a drive to clear your head, okay?" He used to coax me like this in the past. He knew I loved the feeling of a breeze brushing against my face, so whenever I was sad, he'd ride his motorcycle and take me for a spin. I'd sit on the back and vent to him about everything. A lot of it was about Preston. I sniffled and shook my head: "Let's go next time. I bumped my back on the table corner earlier. My lower back hurts." He paused, instinctively reaching out to lift my shirt to check. But he stopped the moment he touched the fabric. "Can I take a look? If it's serious, I'll take you to the hospital." He looked up at me. I fell unexpectedly into his eyes full of heartache, and subconsciously nodded. The hem of my short-sleeved shirt was lifted. A bruise was clearly reflected in Parker's eyes. His hand, resting on the edge of the sofa, clenched tightly into a fist as he stared at the bruise for a long time. I felt an inexplicable warmth in my face and was about to pull my shirt down. Parker, however, voluntarily let go, stood up, and found some soothing oil from the first-aid kit. "Lie on your stomach." I looked at Parker warming up his palms. After hesitating for a moment, I obediently lay face down on the sofa. The floor-to-ceiling window across the room reflected Parker's movements. Tall and long-legged, he knelt on one knee beside the sofa, leaning over to gently lift my shirt. The next second, warmth hit the left side of my lower back. It was so hot that my skin instantly tightened, and I instinctively turned to dodge it. Parker looked up, his dark eyes locking with mine in the reflection of the window. "Does it hurt?" His voice was very hoarse. It made my ears feel inexplicably hot. I abruptly lowered my head, burying my face between my arms, playing along with his words, my voice muffled: "Yeah, you... be a little gentler." Parker paused for a moment, then suddenly chuckled softly. I was about to ask him what was so funny. The sensation of being touched returned to my lower back. This time, I endured it and didn't flinch. I just quietly gripped the throw pillow under my head. Gripped it so hard my knuckles turned white. Burying my head in the pillow, I lost my sight, and my other senses began to heighten, playing tricks on me. I felt the skin he touched instantly tighten, then relax under his kneading. I heard his breathing; it seemed heavier than usual. I smelled the faint scent of soap in the air, barely there, yet distinctly obvious. And every time he pressed down, the knee resting beside me gently brushed against the side of my thigh. The air seemed to grow thin. I was having trouble breathing. Until my phone rang jarringly. I felt like I was pulled out of the water. I fumbled to answer the call. It was Preston. "Don't let Parker keep you up too late. We have to go back to the main estate for dinner tomorrow." I tried my best to calm my emotions: "Okay, I got it... Ah—" The end of my sentence suddenly pitched up. I don't know what crazy idea got into Parker, but the hand pressing on my lower back suddenly pushed down hard. "That hurts!" I turned my head and glared at him. "Can you be a little gentler?!" Parker put on an extremely innocent expression, blinked twice, and said: "I didn't do it on purpose." "You—" "Chloe." Preston's voice sounded again, a hint of undetectable anger hidden in his tone. "What are you and my brother doing?" I quickly realized he misunderstood something. But I had no intention of explaining. Isn't this exactly what Preston Vance wanted? I chuckled softly, deliberately adding a touch of flirtatiousness to my voice: "What does it matter to you what we're doing?" As soon as the words left my mouth, Parker suddenly leaned down, his chin almost resting on my shoulder. I instantly stiffened. I felt his breath against my ear. It tickled. "Don't ask too many questions, bro. Don't worry, I'll take good care of my sister-in-law." Saying that, his fingers moved slightly, tickling the sensitive spot on my waist. I cursed under my breath and reached out to grab his wandering hand, accidentally scratching his forearm in the process. "Hiss—" Parker chuckled low. "Scratching now? You're that wild?" My face flushed with shame and anger: "Shut up! I don't want to hear another word from you!" Parker smirked, nodding carelessly: "Okay, okay, okay, I'll shut up." Except, he didn't spare my ticklish spot. Making it impossible for me to speak a complete sentence. Preston remained silent, listening to his brother and me messing around. Eventually, I didn't even realize when he hung up the phone. 04 The next morning, Parker insisted on making me breakfast, claiming he had mastered five-star chef skills while abroad. In the kitchen, the broad-shouldered, narrow-waisted man was bustling about in a pink apron, occasionally turning to make funny faces at me sitting on the sofa. Preston had never done these things for me. In front of me, he only ever wore a cold expression. So, I had never mistaken one for the other. They were completely different. "Hey, Chloe! Come try your brother's freshly made century egg and lean pork congee!" "Coming." I held my still slightly aching lower back and shuffled over. He handed the spoon full of congee directly to my mouth: "Taste it." My raised hand paused mid-air. Ultimately, I put it down. I quickly drank the congee from the spoon, took a step back, and created some distance between us. "Uh... it's pretty good, just seems to be missing salt." The eager smile on Parker's face instantly froze. After a brief half-second of silence, he seemed to realize that his claim to being a "five-star chef" had suffered a major setback. He could only scratch his head awkwardly: "I think I forgot the salt..." I was just about to comfort him. When he suddenly made a finger heart at me: "Because my love for you needs no words~" Even though it was incredibly cheesy, I couldn't control the rush of heat to my brain. Right then, Preston came back. He stood in the entryway, his figure tall and slender, the white jade prayer beads dangling by his side swaying slightly. His gaze towards me was quiet and dark. Finally, his eyes landed on the hand I had resting on my lower back. "Liked me for fifteen years, and you immediately turn around and get with someone else? Chloe, you're really something." Hearing his inexplicable sarcasm, I found it somewhat amusing. So amusing that I couldn't help but snap back. "You're not dead yet. Are you expecting me to play the grieving widow for three years?" Preston went silent, his thin lips pressed into a tight line. I knew he misunderstood Parker and me, but I didn't explain. Instead, I chuckled and pounded my lower back, intentionally misleading him: "Besides, isn't this what you wanted? If I actually get pregnant, do you think the baby will call you 'Dad' or 'Uncle'?" I don't know which word struck a nerve with Preston, but his face darkened, and the look in his eyes became exceptionally gloomy. Parker silently wrapped an arm around my waist, his clear, bright eyes curving slightly. He smirked carelessly and arrogantly: "Just call him 'Dad.' Anyway, according to my brother, we look exactly the same. In the future, you can see the kid on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and I'll see the kid on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. We'll alternate Sundays. How about that?" Preston lowered his eyes, his long eyelashes casting a shadow under his eyes, making it impossible to read his emotions. "Suit yourself." He dropped that cold sentence and turned to go to the study. I patted Parker's hand, which was still resting on my waist: "The act is over. You can take it back now." To my surprise, he suddenly tightened his grip, pulling me tightly against his chest. I raised my hands against his chest to push him away, but it was useless. The only use was feeling his pectoral muscles. "I helped you put on a show; shouldn't I get a little reward?" He lowered his head, his face very close to mine. I subconsciously held my breath and started to stutter: "Wh-what kind of reward?" "I'll be your model. Draw a portrait for me." I froze instantly and forced a dry laugh: "Pick something else. I haven't painted in a long time..." Not since five years ago. Actually, There was one time. For Serena's twenty-fifth birthday. She insisted on being my model, begging me to paint her beautifully, saying it was just to commemorate our family bond and friendship. I repeatedly refused. But she pouted and said pitifully: "Chloe, do you not see me as a good sister anymore?" I was momentarily speechless. Preston, who was sitting quietly beside me folding origami cranes, suddenly looked up at me, his tone as cold as ever: "It's just a painting. What are you refusing for?" I pursed my lips and eventually agreed. And I set a condition: Do not post it online. Who knew that the very night I finished the painting, I'd be trending. Serena posted the painting on Twitter with the caption: [Thanks for the birthday gift, Chloe~ Love it~] I had hidden myself away for so long, only to be forcibly dragged back into the public eye by her. People immediately dug up my past, calling me a plagiarist and telling Serena to stay away from me. "I'm so sorry, Chloe. You painted it so beautifully, I really couldn't resist posting it on Twitter. Boohoo," Serena apologized, holding my hand and swinging it. I lowered my eyes, looking at her hand clasped over mine. For the first time, I spoke harshly to her. "I'm in a bad mood right now. Can you please get the hell away from me?" Serena stood frozen on the spot. I turned and went home. But the moment I opened the door, I was met with a barrage of curses from my father and stepmother. "Why do you have to go show off? Do you think being able to paint makes you special? If I had known you would bring me so much shame, I should have broken your hands back then!" "Chloe, your dad worked so hard to suppress that plagiarism scandal back then, and now you're stirring up this kind of trouble again. Do you think our family has money to burn? You really don't know the value of a dollar..." ... Word by word, sentence by sentence, they beat down on my spine. Pressing me down until I bent over, bit by bit. The pride and liveliness of the former wealthy heiress were chipped away. It felt like I became completely quiet from that day on. When Preston saw me again, he even raised an eyebrow in rare surprise: "You've changed a lot." I smiled: "I have no choice. I can't keep bringing shame to the family like before." Later, because of family obligations, I made up with Serena. Just without the enthusiasm I used to have. 06 Now that Parker brought up painting again, I subconsciously tried to avoid it. But he looked at me earnestly, his dark eyes seeming to hide the stars in the sky. "Chloe, you said you were going to be a great painter." "But..." I blinked, suppressing the stinging in my eyes. "I've been nailed to the pillar of shame as a plagiarist..." "I don't believe you plagiarized. "Back then, the designer who accused you of plagiarism vanished without a trace, but someone transferred three million dollars to him. "I don't think that's a coincidence. "Chloe, you did nothing wrong. "I found his address a few days ago. Want to go see him?" Hearing the certainty in his tone, I finally couldn't hold back my tears. The grievances hidden for five years burst forth in that moment. So, someone did believe me. In the end. I agreed to paint a portrait for Parker. But not now. He said: "Wait until the day your name is cleared, and I'll be the first one you paint." 07 At noon, we went back to the main estate for lunch. Mrs. Vance brought up her desire for a grandchild again. My heart trembled, and I subconsciously looked at Parker, who was playing chess with Mr. Vance not far away. In front of the elders, he sat upright before the chessboard, lacking some of his usual laziness. Only his slender fingers resting on his thigh, holding a smooth black chess piece, gently rubbing it. As if possessed, I remembered the sensation of his slightly calloused fingertips accidentally brushing against my waist last night. Suddenly, he looked up, glancing in my direction, and gave a very subtle raise of one eyebrow. I suddenly snapped back to reality, my ears turning red, looking everywhere but at him. But I accidentally met Preston's gaze watching me. If it were in the past, I would have happily stared right back at him, but now I subconsciously frowned and looked away. He instantly gripped his prayer beads tighter. 08 After lunch, Parker followed us back home. But he was stopped at the door by Preston as we entered. "Your house isn't here." Parker simply shoved past him, walked in, and stood beside me, curling his lips into an innocent smile: "I know! But I have to keep my sister-in-law company! Did you forget? You said it yourself yesterday, telling my sister-in-law to have a baby with me." Preston fell silent. He just stared at me. And I obediently looped my arm through Parker's and waved at him: "Go play outside. Don't bother the two of us." Two seconds later, Preston left. He slammed the door so hard it rattled. It rattled me so much I stood frozen in place for a moment. Was he angry? But wasn't this what he wanted? After a brief moment of absentmindedness, Parker called me over, having booked flights for us to go abroad. I planned to meet Julian Smith, the designer who reported me for plagiarism, one more time. But when we got there, we found out that Julian Smith had died in a car accident a few days ago. They couldn't save him. I stood at the hospital entrance for a long time, the cold foreign wind blowing against my face, stinging painfully. The next second, Parker turned sideways, standing in the wind's path, shielding me from the breeze. "It's okay. There must be another way." I nodded, letting the wind blow my long hair into a mess. The moment my vision blurred, I felt like I was briefly separated from this world. Until a voice called out, "Mr. Vance." Parker and I turned our heads and saw a middle-aged woman standing not far away. It was Julian Smith's wife. I silently pulled my mask up higher. She jogged over and bowed to Parker, looking anxious but grateful as she blurted out: "You didn't answer my calls, I thought you weren't coming. You're our family's benefactor. Julian kept saying he wanted to see you one last time before he died, but he didn't get to. He's probably crying down there..." Parker stood there, a bit bewildered. But he quickly recovered. His gaze became cold and distant, and his posture lost some of its casualness. In a daze, I almost called out "Preston." He looked so much like him... Julian Smith's wife paused, carefully glancing at Parker, then said: "Since Julian passed away, we don't have much money left. Living in a foreign country is really hard for me and the kids. Mr. Vance, could you perhaps give us another three million to help us out?" Parker lowered his eyes, staring at her coldly without saying a word. But the pressure was intense. She anxiously rubbed her hands together: "Mr. Vance, it's okay if you don't help us, but some things Julian left behind might end up in the hands of your wife, Chloe. It might get a bit ugly then." Hearing my name, I froze, my heart growing colder inch by inch. Preston... what the hell did you do behind my back? "Money isn't an issue," Parker's voice suddenly deepened, carrying a hint of displeasure. "But this is the last time. Give me the things, and I will destroy them myself." "If you dare keep a backup, I won't hesitate to send you down to keep Julian company." "Of course, of course, but I need to see the money first." Parker narrowed his eyes and let out a cold scoff: "Don't try to reason with me. I don't like killing people." Perhaps remembering the power behind the Vance family, Julian Smith's wife struggled for a moment before finally taking a step back: "Fine, I'll give it to you now, but you absolutely cannot break your promise." "Mhm." After a few seconds of hesitation, she pulled out a USB drive. Parker plugged the USB drive directly into his phone and checked the files inside. They were phone recordings and chat logs. Suddenly, Julian Smith's wife let out an "Huh": "Mr. Vance, why aren't you carrying your prayer beads today?" Parker's fingers paused, then without even batting an eye, he said four words simply and flatly. "It's cold. Hands freeze. "The three million will be transferred to your account tomorrow. Make sure you stay hidden abroad." Dropping that sentence, Parker turned around swiftly and left. I hurried to follow him. Hearing that last sentence, Julian Smith's wife's mind was completely occupied by the money. Her doubts vanished, and she even enthusiastically saw us off. On the way back to the hotel, I listened to the recordings on the USB drive. In them, Preston told Julian Smith: "Three million. Don't bother Serena Sterling ever again, or I don't mind killing you." In another, Serena told Julian Smith: "I've sent you all of Chloe's drafts. Tweak them a little and publish them immediately. Make sure it causes a big scene." ... I sat on the bed, staring blankly. The recordings I had just heard echoed in my ears. My chest felt tight. Serena... why did you do this? Preston, how did I ever wrong you? It wasn't until Parker knocked continuously on my door that I was pulled from my sorrowful thoughts. I opened the door. He stood outside with a worried look on his face, assessing me. Seeing I was fine, he let out a soft sigh of relief. "I thought you'd be hiding in your room crying." I blinked my somewhat dry eyes and forced a bitter smile, saying nothing. Cry? I felt too awful. So awful that I couldn't even cry anymore. "Don't worry, I'm fine. You should go back to sleep. We have a flight to catch tomorrow." Parker looked at me for a good while longer before taking a half step back and pointing behind him: "Is my brother really going back?" His words made me laugh: "Go back. Goodnight!" Only then did he turn around and leave, feeling reassured. But the next second, I suddenly grabbed the hem of his shirt. "Thank you." He didn't look back. "No need to thank me. A brother protecting his sister is just the way things should be."
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