Three years ago, he mocked me right in front of his friends: "She's too obsessed with love. I'm just playing around with her." I was devastated. Walking home in a daze, I missed a step, tumbled down a flight of concrete stairs, and shattered my leg. Years later, I handed out my wedding invitations at a college alumni dinner. "I'm getting married," I said with a smile. "I'd love for you all to come." When the invitation reached him, he casually brushed it aside with a cold sneer. "Who gave you the nerve to marry someone else?" What he didn't know was that the groom on that invitation was sitting directly across from him. Watching the entire scene with absolute, unnerving calm. 1 "I never expected Clara Hayes to be the first one of us to tie the knot." "She was always so quiet and obedient. She got dumped pretty hard, so finding someone willing to marry her is good enough." I clutched the gold-embossed invitations in my hands, completely ignoring the toxic whispers around the table. "I'm getting married next month. You're all welcome to celebrate with us." From start to finish, a dark, freezing gaze locked onto my face. He didn't move an inch. I knew he would be here. Tristan Vance. My first love. And now, the ruthless rising star of the Manhattan elite. I slid the heavy ivory envelope across the table toward him, summoning every ounce of courage to meet his eyes. "Tristan, I hope you can make it." Tristan sat in silence. He didn't utter a single word. The entire table held their breath, their eyes darting silently between the two of us. After all, our breakup three years ago was a legendary disaster. He had publicly mocked me for being a pathetic, desperate puppy dog. The humiliation left me in such a daze that I tripped down a flight of stairs on my way home, shattering my knee. I had to leave the state just to get multiple surgeries and intensive physical therapy. Sitting next to him, Lindsey Cole broke the silence with a sweet, piercing smile: "Chloe, is your leg all better now?" I hesitated for a second, downplaying the trauma: "It still aches when it rains..." In reality, it was much worse. The joint damage was permanent. Lindsey possessively hooked her arm through Tristan's, smiling apologetically. "I'm so sorry. I want to apologize on Tristan's behalf." "On... his behalf?" My grip on the stack of invitations tightened. "Did no one tell you? Tristan and I are getting married," Lindsey said, covering her mouth with a delicate giggle. "I guess I'm just lucky." I stood there holding my invitations, completely stunned. Lindsey. She was my best friend. Back in college, no one was closer to me than her. How could she... "Alright, alright... that's all in the past! Come on Clara, hand out the rest of the invites!" Someone desperately tried to smooth things over. Suddenly, Tristan raised his hand, slapped the invitation away, and let out a harsh, mocking laugh. "Who gave you the nerve to marry someone else?" The moment those words left his mouth, the room fell dead silent. Even Lindsey's smug smile vanished. My mind went completely blank. "Why shouldn't I get married?" For three years, I had carried the weight of his humiliation and the mockery of our peers. Wasn't that enough? Tristan offered a dark, twisted smile. "Even a dog I throw away isn't allowed to find a new master. You think you can?" "Tristan." A faint, chilling voice echoed from the head of the table. In the dead silence of the room, it was exceptionally clear. Sebastian Sterling slowly lifted his gaze, his tone as light as a passing breeze. "That's enough." Two words. Absolute finality. No one dared to breathe, let alone contradict him. After all, this man was in a league far beyond Tristan Vance. Back in university, he was the untouchable, ice-cold god of the campus. In the years since graduation, he had become a phantom billionaire, only seen on the covers of Forbes and Wall Street Journal. Tristan, who had a decent business relationship with Sebastian, didn't push it. Instead, he snatched my invitation off the table and ripped it open. He glanced at the elegant cursive inside and let out a highly amused laugh. "Sebastian, what a coincidence. Her fiancé's last name is Sterling, too. I'd love to meet this guy. What kind of saint is he?" The groom's name on the invitation read: Bastian Sterling. "Is that so?" Sebastian took a slow sip of his red wine, a faint, unreadable smile playing on his lips. "That is, indeed, quite a coincidence." 2 Sebastian didn't stay long; an urgent phone call pulled him away. As a man who managed a global empire, attending a trivial alumni dinner was already highly unusual for him. I quickly made up an excuse to slip out as well. By the time I rushed out the front doors, panting, a chauffeur had already opened the door to a sleek, black Rolls-Royce. "Mr. Sterling!" I called out, out of breath. Sebastian paused and looked back. Under the pale glow of the streetlights, his sharp, chiseled profile looked even more unapproachable and cold. "Thank you... for tonight." "No need." Sebastian spoke calmly. "We are getting married. You can make it public now." I opened my mouth but couldn't find the words. The day I moved back to the city, I had absolutely no one. I was dragging my suitcase down the street when I randomly ran into Sebastian's car. "Did you come back to see Tristan?" That was the very first thing he said to me. "He's getting married," he added. "With his controlling nature, you'll find it very hard to survive in this city." Then, Sebastian casually tossed out an olive branch. "I'm in need of a fiancée to get my family off my back. Think about it." Driven by some inexplicable impulse, I agreed. Honestly, I didn't understand what someone like him could possibly want from me. I didn't dare use his powerful name to show off. I just wanted to keep my head down and live a quiet life. "Bastian Sterling" was his birth name, the one recorded on his secretive family registry. Very few people knew it. "I'm sorry... for causing you trouble tonight." Sebastian stared at me quietly for a moment, looking like he wanted to say something else. Eventually, he just said, "Text me when you get home." 3 When I turned back inside to grab my coat, some old classmates dragged me into conversation. By 8:00 PM, a torrential downpour suddenly hit the city. Stranded by the storm, a bunch of us were forced to book rooms at the hotel. Finished? Sebastian texted me. Three short words, perfectly matching his efficient, no-nonsense personality. I'm staying at the hotel tonight because of the rain. A long time passed before he replied: Send me your room number. Go to sleep. I sent the message and curled up under the covers. Whether by accident or malicious design, Tristan and Lindsey's room was right next to mine. The hotel's soundproofing was terrible. Lindsey's high-pitched giggles pierced right through the drywall. It was piercingly annoying. As if terrified I wouldn't hear her, she practically yelled, "Tristan, next time for my birthday, let's book the room right next door—" "Shut up. It's noisy." Tristan's voice was low, raspy, and carried a heavy trace of exhaustion. I froze. It suddenly reminded me of my first year dating Tristan. He threw a birthday party for me. But after midnight, he completely vanished. Lindsey was unreachable, too. A physical wave of nausea washed over me. My eyes stung. Honestly, I couldn't even say how much I actually loved Tristan anymore. I had just poured the best years of my youth into him, only to be reduced to a humiliating punchline. The noises from next door escalated. Lindsey's voice grew louder, dripping with intentional provocation. In the middle of this suffocating atmosphere, my hotel door suddenly clicked open with a keycard. A tall, imposing silhouette was stretched long by the hallway lights. A rush of cold, rain-scented air swept into the room. My eyes were still wet. I stared blankly at the man standing in the doorway. "Mr. Sterling? Why are you here?" Sebastian glanced around the room. "The security at this hotel is subpar. I was worried." I don't know if it was just my imagination, but he seemed to be in a terrible mood tonight. He radiated an icy, unapproachable aura. The noises from next door abruptly stopped. Sebastian looked down at me. "Is it unbearable?" "Huh?" "I can have them move you to a different room." I quickly waved my hands. "It's getting late. You have to work tomorrow, you should really go home and rest—" As the words left my mouth, I realized something horrifying. I was in a single-bed room. And the way I had just thrown back the covers... it looked exactly like I was inviting him into my bed. The atmosphere instantly turned painfully awkward. Sebastian's gaze swept over my bare legs before he looked away and pulled out his phone to call his secretary. "Book another room—" Suddenly, Lindsey's theatrical moans from next door roared back to life. Louder and more aggressive than before. An inexplicable surge of anger flared in my chest. Without thinking, I reached out and grabbed the hem of Sebastian's tailored shirt, whispering, "It's fine... just sleep here." The moment the words left my mouth, Sebastian's gaze turned dangerously intense. There was even a faint, predatory gleam in his eyes. My face flushed crimson instantly. Was I being too forward? "I'm sorry, I... I didn't mean—" "Okay." Sebastian calmly hung up his phone. "Do you want to shower first?" BANG! A massive crash echoed from the room next door. Followed by a shocked gasp from Lindsey. At the exact same moment, my phone started vibrating furiously on the nightstand. It was Tristan's number. I didn't answer it. Seconds later, a text message lit up my lock screen. Clara, you have three minutes to come out here. Sebastian pressed his lips together, a frigid, lifeless smile forming on his face. "He sure is a busy guy." Before I could say anything, Sebastian abruptly stood up, unclasped his luxury watch, and unbuttoned his collar. I froze, stammering, "W-What are you doing...?" Within seconds, I was overwhelmed by the intoxicating scent of cold pine. "Ms. Hayes, since you invited me first, it would be rude of me to decline." My heart felt like it was going to leap out of my throat. We were so close. So close I could count his eyelashes. "Will you make a sound?" he asked softly. "What?" my voice was barely a squeak. Sebastian smiled faintly. "Your voice is much prettier than hers." I suddenly understood what he was doing. "Ah—!" My stiff, awkward sound made Sebastian chuckle low in his chest. It sounded like a reward. As if telling me I was doing a great job. Suddenly, Tristan's muffled voice roared from the other side of the wall. Suppressing a dark, violent rage. "Clara. Answer the damn phone." Sebastian smirked lazily, picked up my ringing phone, and answered it. His tone was perfectly flat. "She's in the shower." A silence stretching for an entire century followed. Tristan finally asked in a chilling whisper: "Bastian Sterling?" "Correct." Tristan let out a dark sneer. "If you have a death wish, I'd be more than happy to arrange a funeral for you." Sebastian gently brushed a stray strand of hair from my face, letting out a soft, mocking laugh. "Big talk. Let's just hope your ability to act matches the speed at which you surrendered tonight." 4 The sound of something heavy smashing against the drywall echoed from next door. Then, dead silence returned. I belatedly realized what I had just done. I scrambled backward, desperately putting distance between us. "I'm sleepy. I'm going to bed..." I rolled over to the far edge of the mattress, leaving plenty of space for him. The highly charged, intimate atmosphere evaporated instantly. Sebastian stared at the spot on the bed that was still warm from my body, his thoughts unreadable. The room fell silent, save for the steady rhythm of the rain against the windowpane. I squeezed my eyes shut, my heart still racing like crazy. Suddenly, the memory of the very first time I saw Sebastian flashed in my mind. Back then, I was still desperately chasing Tristan. At the university's arts gala, I went on stage and performed a breathtaking classical dance. Sebastian had been dragged there by Tristan. He sat in the very front row. But his eyes never once looked at me from start to finish. He was a man completely devoid of warmth. Ice cold to the core. After that, trailing behind Tristan, I saw him a few more times, but the number of words we exchanged could be counted on one hand. I never in a million years imagined that one day, we would be lying in the same bed. I let out a soft sigh. "Can't sleep?" Sebastian asked. My thoughts snapped back. I opened my eyes. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, bathed in the dim glow of the nightlight. His profile was sharp and cold. Exactly like the very first time I saw him. I clutched the blanket tightly. "Mr. Sterling, why did you choose me?" "Why couldn't I choose you?" He lowered his eyes, looking at me with those pale, fathomless irises. "To me, anyone is the same. But an acquaintance is more convenient." "Oh..." I scratched my head. "It just feels... life is really unpredictable." Sebastian's lips quirked up slightly. "You didn't predict we'd get married?" "Yeah." He stared at me for a long moment. "Clara, I never do anything unexpected." I froze. Before I could even process what that meant, Sebastian's phone rang. It was his executive secretary. "Mr. Sterling, the CEO of Vanguard Corp just flew in. Should we move the video conference to right now?" Sebastian checked the time. It was exactly 1:00 AM. "Fine. Come pick me up. And..." He glanced over at me. "Bring an electric heating pad." My heart skipped a beat. How did he know my knee ached when it rained? "Mr. Sterling, you don't have to do that for me..." "It's no trouble." Sebastian pulled the blanket up to my shoulders. "I'll have my driver pick you up tomorrow. Try to avoid running into Tristan." "You really don't have to..." I quickly declined. "I can get an Uber. I don't want to hold up your work." The secretary's car arrived quickly. It was clear his business was urgent. Sebastian hesitated for a second, then didn't argue. "If you feel unsafe, call me." "Okay." He left. A hotel robot delivered the heating pad shortly after. The rain pattered against the window until dawn. I didn't sleep well and was up before 6:00 AM. It was overcast today. I gritted my teeth, stretched my dull, aching knee, got dressed, and headed out for my scheduled hospital checkup. Who knew that while waiting for the elevator, a shadow would suddenly appear behind me. The distinct smell of tobacco mixed with mint leaves. Even with my eyes closed, I knew exactly who it was. We stood in a tense standoff, neither of us speaking. "Slept with him?" Tristan's sudden, mocking question dripped with venom. I crossed my arms, staring straight ahead at the glowing numbers above the elevator doors, and said softly, "Yeah. His stamina is way better than yours." "Do you know who owns this hotel?" Tristan suddenly grabbed my arm, violently forcing me to look at him. "Sebastian Sterling." "You think it's hard for me to have him look into someone's background?" "Within three days, I'll have 'Bastian Sterling' stripped down to his bones with nothing left." "Clara, if I destroy your precious fiancé, are you going to cry about it?" I glared at him. "You're the one who played with my feelings. Was I wrong to leave?" Tristan offered a sneering, contemptuous smile. "Clara, do you really think you have the moral high ground here? You took my family's money. Why don't you mention that?" I froze. "What money?" "Twenty thousand dollars. Wired directly into your bank account. Do I really have to throw the bank statements in your face to make you admit it?" Twenty thousand dollars? In my memory, the only time I ever received exactly $20,000 was my graduation scholarship. I said seriously, "That twenty thousand was the Outstanding Graduate Scholarship Lindsey helped me apply for." Tristan looked at me with pure disgust. "Clara, do you know why I can't stand you?" He let go of my arm and stepped into the open elevator. "You're a pathological liar, and you never feel an ounce of remorse." The elevator doors slid shut. Leaving me standing there in an absolute daze. Right before graduation, Lindsey had run up to me excitedly: "Clara, I submitted your name for the Outstanding Graduate Scholarship! The school is totally going to give it to you!" We shared a dorm for four years. Our personal information was frequently on the same spreadsheets. Submitting paperwork for each other was completely normal. Half a month later, Lindsey told me: "The scholarship money was wired directly into your bank account!" It was exactly twenty thousand dollars. Later, I had the accident and never even thought to check the official recipient list on the school's website. With trembling hands, I sent a text to Lindsey. "The scholarship you applied for me back then... was it really from the university?" Lindsey replied almost instantly. "Clara, what are you talking about? When did I ever apply for a scholarship for you?" ... 5 "Ms. Hayes, I'm very sorry, but given your current condition, I'm afraid you'll never be able to dance professionally again." I don't know how many times I had heard doctors say those exact words. When I walked out of the hospital, a light drizzle had started falling. A message popped up from a college classmate: "She told you that to your face, so there's no chat history or paper trail. You should understand what that means." "Yeah, I know. I have no grounds to sue her." I stood in the rain holding an umbrella, letting out a soft, shaky sigh. The suffocating injustice I had carried in my heart for years couldn't even ignite. It just turned to cold ash. A sleek black Rolls-Royce cut silently through the rain and parked right in front of me. The tinted window rolled down, revealing Sebastian's face. The misty rain slightly blurred our view of each other. I heard him say calmly, "Clara, get in." I never expected him to personally come pick me up. He was a wildly busy man; even in the car, he was reviewing documents on a tablet. "What did the doctor say?" he asked without looking up. "Oh." I forced a bright, casual tone. "It's fine. Recovering nicely." Sebastian merely glanced at me and asked, "What's wrong?" He saw right through me. The fake smile froze on my face for a second. I forced my lips to curve again. "Oh, nothing." I quickly looked down, terrified he would see my red, watery eyes. "Clara." Sebastian put down his tablet. "Look me in the eyes and say that." I sat in silence for a long time. The anger and profound betrayal I had suppressed for years suddenly shattered my composure. "Mr. Sterling, I... I can never dance again..." I smiled, my face stiff and agonizing. "They all thought I took the Vance family's payoff money, but the truth is Lindsey scammed me." "And I only just found out today." "If we had just broken up normally... maybe that accident could have been avoided." "I could still be dancing—" Sebastian stared at my agonizingly forced smile, his gaze growing darker and colder by the second. "Clara. You got played like a fool. Does smiling about it make you happy?" The words caught in my throat. After a long pause, I lowered my head, and the tears I fought so hard to hold back finally fell. "I'm sorry." "You have nothing to apologize for," Sebastian said after a heavy silence. "It's their fault." Raindrops hit the car window, sending ripples across the glass. Lingering for a long time. Suddenly, I felt like today wasn't a total disaster. At least one person believed me. Sebastian dropped me off at my apartment building. Before he left, he said, "Don't worry about your leg. I'll find you the best specialists." "Thank you—" Sebastian's expression remained neutral. "No need." After the car drove away, I got a call from an old college friend saying she was in the area and wanted to drop off some souvenirs. I walked back to the entrance of the complex. Not long after, I saw her hop out of a taxi and run over. "Hey, did you know? Because of what happened with you and Tristan a few days ago, the alumni group chat is absolutely exploding!" She started gossiping the second she saw me. "What?" "They're taking bets. They say within half a month, you and Tristan will get back together." "Are you joking?" "Someone saw him getting into a massive fight with Lindsey. It was definitely about you. Are you really not planning to meet up with Tristan?" Actually, I did need to meet him. I needed to wire that money right back into his account. And the dirty water he poured on me? I was going to throw it right back in his face. Facing her teasing look, I said, "I'll talk to him. There are some... misunderstandings between us." My friend beamed. "Exactly! Just clear the air and everything will be fine." I forced a smile. I turned my head and saw the black Rolls-Royce parked a short distance away. It was Sebastian. He hadn't left? Holding my umbrella, I called out, "Mr. Sterl—" The car suddenly accelerated, driving off into the distance. My friend leaned in curiously. "What's wrong?" "Nothing... he probably just didn't hear me..." Over the next few days, adjusting to a new project at work kept me insanely busy. As fate would have it, my boss assigned me as the lead product developer for a massive contract with Sebastian's tech conglomerate. After a grueling pitch meeting at his headquarters, I bumped into Sebastian coming out of the executive boardroom. Just as I was about to say hello, his gaze brushed right past me without stopping. Instead, his secretary nodded at me politely. "Ms. Hayes, Mr. Sterling asks that you wait for a moment." "Oh... okay." I watched his broad back walk away, feeling a sudden, inexplicable tightness in my chest. That evening, his secretary walked into the lounge. "There's a high-society banquet tonight. Mr. Sterling asks if you would be willing to attend? If you're too tired, I can have a driver take you home." "It's fine, I can go." 6 By the time I arrived, the banquet was already in full swing. The very first person I spotted was Sebastian. He was far too striking to miss. Just standing there, he was the absolute center of attention. Almost simultaneously, his gaze found mine. Across the crowded, bustling ballroom, our eyes met and lingered. I was wearing a breathtaking gown. It was a soft champagne gold, intricately designed around the collarbone, with a neckline slightly deeper than I usually wore. It hugged my curves perfectly. A sapphire pendant rested in the hollow of my throat. Shimmering under the chandeliers. Sebastian stared at me, unmoving. It wasn't until a prominent CEO spoke to him that he withdrew his gaze and walked away, surrounded by a crowd of elites. I was just about to walk over to him when his secretary stopped me. He hesitated for a long time before saying, "Ms. Hayes, about your plan to get back together with Mr. Vance... Mr. Sterling overheard you talking about it the other day. Although it's your private life... if there are misunderstandings, it's best to clear them up sooner rather than later." Without waiting for my response, he hurried off to catch up with Sebastian. I stood frozen in place. When I noticed the massive banner at the entrance bearing the name "Vance Corporation," it finally clicked. This was Tristan's turf. Sebastian had intentionally brought me here to give me an opportunity to meet with Tristan. Realizing he had completely misunderstood me, I lifted the hem of my gown, desperate to chase after him and explain. Suddenly, someone blocked my path. "Good evening, miss." The man speaking was a chubby, middle-aged man with a greasy smile. "I'm Sebastian Sterling's uncle. I assume you've heard of Sebastian?" So this was a senior member of the Sterling family. I nodded politely. "Hello." He swirled his champagne glass. "You are incredibly beautiful. Do you have a boyfriend?" Realizing his intentions were anything but pure, I quickly took a step back, putting distance between us. "I apologize, sir. I have urgent business. Excuse me." Before he could say another word, I quickly walked away. As I rounded a corner, someone blocked me again. "Clara." Lindsey seemed to appear out of nowhere, asking with a probing, malicious smirk, "Was that your... fiancé earlier?" "No." "No wonder his last name is Sterling," she muttered to herself, acting as if she had just caught me in a massive scandal. "That's Sebastian Sterling's uncle. Everyone knows he keeps mistresses all over the city. I just didn't expect you to be his new mistress." Her voice was incredibly loud, instantly drawing the curiosity of the surrounding guests. People began pointing and whispering about me. I stared at her icily. "Are you done talking?" Lindsey intimately linked her arm through mine, her nails digging in. "What? Mad that I exposed you and ruined your reputation?" "When you were desperately chasing Tristan for two years, I was sleeping with him every single night." "...He only dated you because I told him sneaking around behind your back was thrilling. You were the real third wheel all along..." "I guess being a mistress is just second nature to you now." The rage I had suppressed for days finally erupted. Meeting her gleeful, triumphant eyes, I picked up a glass of ice water from a passing waiter's tray and poured it directly over her head. I dropped the glass. It shattered against the marble floor with a sharp CRASH. The entire ballroom went dead silent. After a brief second of shock, Lindsey let out a piercing, hysterical scream. "Clara, what the hell are you doing?!" "Are you calm now?" I stared her down. "There's not enough water in that glass to wash away your filth. You didn't need to introduce yourself as trash to the whole room." "You bitch—!" Suddenly, someone violently grabbed my arm and hurled me backward against the buffet table. Plates, glasses, and silverware crashed to the floor in a chaotic mess. A jagged shard of porcelain sliced deep into my ankle. Blood instantly welled up. I gasped in pain, frowning as I looked up to see Tristan Vance looming over me. "Clara, are you out of your fucking mind?!" Tristan's voice was dark and lethal. "You dare cause a scene at my family's event?" Without a second thought, I pulled a bank card from my clutch and threw it violently right at his face. "Shut the hell up." "Treating a pathetic twenty grand like it's a holy relic. You should be embarrassed. If I had known that money was stolen from your mother by Lindsey, I would have thrown up touching it." Lindsey burst into theatrical tears. "You're just a dirty mistress, what gives you the right to act so arrogant?!" "What mistress?" Tristan asked, confused. "Her so-called fiancé! It's Sebastian's sleazy uncle!" Tristan's gaze swept over me, his expression complex and dark. I pulled out my phone and sneered. "If you have something to say, say it loud and clear for the camera. We'll settle this in court." Lindsey panicked, shrinking timidly behind Tristan's back. "Enough." Tristan scoffed, adopting an arrogant, dismissive posture. "Clara, you truly disgust me." "Who disgusts you?" A faint, chilling voice drifted from the edge of the crowd. The guests automatically parted, creating a wide path. Sebastian had returned. I stood there looking like a battered mess, glaring at him. I knew causing a scene like this would make Sebastian lose face tonight. Sebastian walked straight up to me, lowered his eyes, and asked softly, "Where are you hurt?" "I'm—" I suddenly remembered his secretary's words. I shifted my tone, putting on a pitiful, agonizing voice. "My ankle... it's cut. It hurts..." "Who did it?" "Him." I pointed directly at Tristan. Tristan let out a contemptuous sneer. "You really just hook up with anyone you can find. Wait until I destroy your precious fiancé. We'll see if you're still smiling then." Sebastian maintained a calm, unhurried pace as he walked toward Tristan. Passing the buffet table, he casually grabbed an open bottle of vintage red wine. Tristan, assuming Sebastian was going to help him since Sebastian famously despised his uncle, laughed out loud. "Perfect timing. I know you hate your uncle too, help me—" His arrogant barking was abruptly cut off. Thick, dark red liquid poured relentlessly over Tristan's styled hair, dripping down his face. It completely soaked his expensive, custom-tailored white shirt. And the source was the bottle in Sebastian's hand. He stood with one hand in his pocket, using the exact same method I had used just moments ago, emptying the entire bottle over Tristan's head. The entire ballroom was so silent you could hear a pin drop. "Sebastian." Tristan's voice cracked in shock and fury. "Are you off your meds?!" Sebastian casually tossed the empty bottle aside. He reached out, grabbed Tristan's expensive silk tie, and methodically used it to wipe the wine off his own hands. His tone was dripping with absolute, aristocratic arrogance. "My apologies, I didn't quite catch that. Are you sure... you want to destroy me?" ... One sentence. It hit the room like a bomb. For the very first time, I saw absolute, unadulterated shock on Tristan's face. Lindsey broke away from Tristan's side, desperately trying to salvage the situation. "Mr. Sterling, I saw it with my own eyes earlier, she was hitting on—" "Ms. Cole. Are you intentionally spreading malicious rumors about my fiancée?" Lindsey's lips trembled. She finally understood the relationship between us. "N-No, that's not..." Sebastian placed a firm, protective hand on the small of my back, preparing to escort me out. Tristan finally snapped back to reality, yelling to stop us. "Sebastian, don't you think you owe me an explanation?!" "An explanation?" Sebastian lazily curled his lips into a cold, mocking smile. "My wife made it perfectly clear just a moment ago. You're blind. She was injured because of you. I haven't even demanded an explanation from you yet, and you have the audacity to demand one from me?" Tristan choked on his words. "Don't let her fool you! I dated her, I know exactly what kind of woman she—" "Enough. My private matters are not up for your evaluation." Tristan was losing his mind. "Why the fuck are you turning against me for her?!" He grabbed his ruined, wine-soaked shirt. "We grew up together! You're taking an outsider's side over mine? Where is your logic?!" Sebastian gave him a long, dark look, and dropped a final, icy sentence: "Then sue me." And with that, he led me out of the ballroom.
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