"Ms. Hayes, as you requested, we have prepared a body identical to yours. It will be delivered on time to your wedding with Mr. Vanderbilt in ten days." Hearing the confirmation from the person on the other end of the line, Vanessa Hayes tightened her grip on the phone. The tension that had been coiling in her chest for days finally loosened, just a little. "Thank you. Your service has been excellent." "This is what we do. Rest assured, the body's realism is sufficient to pass a preliminary visual inspection by a coroner. It will not raise any immediate suspicion." ... Before ending the call, Vanessa went over a few more details with them, confirming every last point. Only then did she push the door open and walk back into the private club's VIP room. The room had been filled with the loud, brash laughter of young money. The moment she pushed the door open, it was as if someone had hit a mute button. Benedict Vanderbilt, who was sitting at the head of the table, stood up immediately. He took her hand, his eyes full of concern, and quickly signed in ASL. "Sweetheart, what took you so long? Are you feeling unwell? Let me take you home to rest." He was already putting an arm around her waist, ready to leave. Vanessa looked at his deep blue eyes, which held only her reflection, and a bitter ache rose in her throat. She shook her head gently, mouthing her reply. "I'm fine. Stay with your friends. I don't want to ruin the mood." Benedict double-checked with her several times before he finally led her back to her seat beside him. The room's atmosphere heated up again. A man named Parker lifted his whiskey glass, grinning widely at Benedict. "Hey, Benedict, you and Vanessa are about to tie the knot. So what are you going to do about that little assistant you've got stashed in your downtown apartment?" Vanessa's nails dug silently into her palms. The man next to Parker elbowed him in the ribs. "Dude, watch it. Vanessa is sitting right here." Parker just shrugged, not caring at all. "What's the big deal? It's not like she can hear us. I'm just curious. I want to know how our Wall Street golden boy plans to handle his little pet." Everyone at the table turned their eyes to Benedict. "I'm keeping her." Benedict used his fork to expertly shell the lobster tail on Vanessa's plate, arranging the snow-white meat neatly in front of her before he continued, completely unhurried. "She's nothing but a bit of fun. The only woman I love is Vanessa." "But if Vanessa ever found out, she would leave me. So I've kept it well hidden. Even after we're married, she will never find out." He then swept a warning glare around the table. "All of you—keep your mouths shut. If anyone breathes a word of this in front of Vanessa, don't blame me for erasing you completely from New York's social circle." These men all moved in the same circles of wealth and privilege. The "a wife at home and a mistress on the side" routine was nothing new to them. Hearing Benedict's words, they just clicked their tongues in amusement. "Man, you must be exhausted, having to hide a mistress like that. My wife stopped caring what I do in Palm Beach a long time ago." "You think Benedict is like you, spreading it around everywhere? The man's just keeping things fresh, get it?" One of them, eyes bright with gossip, leaned in closer. "Benedict, since Vanessa can't hear—have you and your little assistant ever, you know, in that penthouse of yours on the Upper East Side..." He trailed off, leaving the rest to everyone's imagination. Benedict let out a short laugh, twisting the engagement ring on his finger as he answered casually. "Of course. It's very— stimulating." The room erupted in loud wolf whistles and applause as everyone at the table gave him a thumbs-up. "You're the man!" "I bet you've christened every corner of that apartment, haven't you, buddy?" "Looks like marrying Vanessa won't slow down your 'private projects' with that assistant one bit." The flattery poured in one after another. Not a single person noticed that Vanessa's knuckles were white around her knife and fork. No one knew that her surgery in Switzerland had been a complete success. Her hearing had been restored for a while now. And even more, no one knew that she had already decided to leave. She was never going to marry Benedict Vanderbilt. On the day of the wedding, all that would be left for Benedict was a "body" that looked exactly like her. Out of the corner of his eye, Benedict saw the untouched lobster meat on her plate. He immediately signed. "Sweetheart, why aren't you eating?" Vanessa looked up at the man before her, at his eyes full of concern, and forced a stiff smile. She signed back. "What were you all talking about? You seemed so excited." Benedict smiled tenderly. He lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to her skin. "They were admiring us. They were saying we'll be the most loving couple in all of New York, that our wedding will be the legend of the social season." He made the sign for "I love you," his gaze focused and deeply affectionate. The other people in the room exchanged meaningful looks. Vanessa saw the mockery in their eyes as clear as day. Her heart felt as if it had been dropped into a glass of martini, full of ice. Bone-chillingly cold. They were clearly talking about his dirty affairs with his mistress, yet he could look her in the face and say they were admiring their love. Benedict, I never knew you could lie without even blinking.
Vanessa put down her fork and knife and stood up. She didn't want to hear another word of these hollow lies. Seeing her rise, Benedict quickly got up with her, signing to ask what was wrong. Vanessa shook her head and spoke softly—she knew he could read lips. "I'm tired. I want to go home and rest." She didn't wait for Benedict's response and walked straight out of the private room. Stepping onto Sixth Avenue, Vanessa looked up. On the giant digital screen across the street in Times Square, the video of Benedict proposing to her was still playing on a loop. "Vanessa Hayes, marry me!"—those words were plastered boldly across the center of the screen. Tourists passing by were stopping to look up at the screen, sighing with envy. "Oh my god, I heard that Mr. Vanderbilt's girlfriend is deaf. So when he proposed, he rented out the biggest screen in all of Times Square just so she could clearly see the words 'Marry Me.' After she said yes, he kept the video running for an entire month so the whole world could witness it." "That man must love his girlfriend so much. He's going to be the perfect husband." As the subject of all this talk, Vanessa just curled her lips in a sardonic smile. Just one week ago, she would have reacted exactly like these strangers—believing wholeheartedly in Benedict's love, thinking he would be a wonderful husband. She had grown up bouncing between foster homes. At the age of nine, a severe fever and medical negligence had cost her her hearing permanently. From that point on, she became the target of relentless bullying at school. Day after day of cruelty made her build high walls around her heart, sealing herself firmly inside. That was when Benedict appeared. He fell for her at first sight and pursued her with a textbook example of relentless passion. But she had seen these kinds of performances many times before. He confessed his feelings ninety-nine times, and she rejected him ninety-nine times. Until that day. They were inspecting a construction site downtown together when the scaffolding suddenly collapsed. Without a moment's hesitation, he shielded her with his own body. A steel rebar pierced straight through his shoulder blade, yet he held his protective position, not moving an inch. When he woke up in the hospital, still extremely weak, the very first thing he did was struggle to make a single sign. "You're safe... thank god." It was then that she realized, just to be able to truly communicate with her, he had hired the best teacher and spent three months in intensive American Sign Language training. The walls around her heart cracked open for him in that moment. Later, the wound left a permanent, circular brown scar. Every time she saw that scar, her heart would flutter uncontrollably. For the five years they were together, he was so good to her it was beyond reproach, making her feel his sincerity with absolute certainty. Even when the elder members of the Vanderbilt family objected in every way possible, he still defied the immense pressure and proposed to her. So that she could hear Benedict say "I do" with her own ears at the wedding, and to spare him from being torn between his family and her, she had risked the possibility of dying on the operating table and flown to Switzerland for the most advanced experimental hearing restoration treatment. God must have been looking out for her. The surgery was a success. She planned to surprise Benedict on their wedding day, so she kept the fact that her hearing had returned a secret. She had fantasized about it more times than she could count—how overjoyed Benedict would be when he found out she could hear at the ceremony. But the last thing she ever expected was that on the day she returned from Europe, she would overhear Benedict on the phone with his female assistant. The two of them were flirting, completely unrestrained and explicit beyond belief. That was when Vanessa realized the truth. He had been messing around with his assistant behind her back for a long time. Their affair had been going on for an entire year, and she had been completely in the dark! A violent pain tore through her heart. She crouched down, wrapping her arms tightly around herself. Benedict's dismissive word from the private room echoed over and over in her head. "Keeping her." Even though they were about to get married, he had absolutely no intention of ending that affair. Did Benedict think that just because she couldn't hear, he could fool her for a lifetime? The cold winter wind sliced through the collar of her coat. The chill seeped deep into her bones, but her mind only grew clearer. She would show Benedict with hard facts that lies always get exposed in the end. And she, Vanessa Hayes, would never tolerate betrayal.
Vanessa took a deep breath, forcing down the stabbing pain in her heart, and was about to stand up and go home. A pair of large hands caught her from behind. "Sweetheart, why didn't you wait for me? Are you not feeling well today? Let me take you to try on your wedding dress. The custom gown from Paris has arrived. Let's go see if you like it. If not, I'll have the designer fly here immediately to make changes." Benedict pulled her into his arms, ruffling her hair with doting affection. "I don't want to go. You decide on the dress." She was going to "leave" on the day of the wedding. It made no difference to her what that dress looked like. Benedict seemed to pick up on her coldness. He signed carefully, a hint of real panic in his eyes. "Vanessa, it feels like you're not looking forward to our wedding at all. Are you... are you having second thoughts about marrying me?" Vanessa looked at the man in front of her. There was genuine fear in his expression. She felt a powerful urge to tell him. Yes, I'm not marrying you. You're the one who cheated. You're the one who trampled our love into the dirt. You're the one who destroyed all my anticipation for this marriage. And now, you have the nerve to ask me that? But she wasn't ready to lay her cards on the table just yet. Inside the high-end bridal boutique on Madison Avenue, the moment Vanessa and Benedict walked in, a sales associate pulled back the velvet curtain, revealing the wedding gown that had been waiting for her. "Ms. Hayes, the custom Zuhair Murad gown Mr. Vanderbilt ordered for you from Paris has arrived. Please, have a look and let us know if there's anything that needs altering." As soon as the associate finished speaking, the ASL interpreter standing by stepped forward and translated the words into sign language. Watching this, the other associates murmured among themselves, their voices brimming with envy. "Mr. Vanderbilt is so incredibly thoughtful. He even brought a sign language interpreter." "That's not all. Look at the main diamond on the bodice. That's the 'Heart of Dawn' that Mr. Vanderbilt won at a Sotheby's auction. He specifically instructed the designer to set it right over the heart of the dress." "I also heard he paid a fortune to buy out the designer's entire schedule for the year, just so he could focus solely on designing this one dress for Ms. Hayes." The admiration in their voices made the corners of Benedict's mouth curl up slightly. He stepped forward and wrapped an arm around Vanessa's waist. "Baby, do you like it?" Right over the heart of the dress was a pink diamond the size of a pigeon's egg. The train stretched a full five yards, encrusted with countless smaller diamonds. Under the spotlights, the entire gown shimmered with a dizzying brilliance. Vanessa reached out and gently touched the skirt. There was no denying it. This dress suited her taste perfectly. When they were dating, she had mentioned countless times that her favorite color was pink and that her dream wedding dress was a glamorous gown with a long train. Benedict had carefully filed away every one of those details, and the result was this nearly perfect creation before her eyes. But it was a pity. No matter how beautiful the dress, no matter how dazzling the diamond, it couldn't fill the crack in her heart. "Vanessa, look at the very center of the diamond. It's engraved with 'B & V forever.'" "Diamonds are forever. I had the initials of our names engraved there to show that my love for you is also eternal." Vanessa's gaze instinctively moved to the diamond. Right in the center, there was indeed a tiny line of letters engraved. She turned around to face him, looking straight into his eyes, which were overflowing with love. Her heart trembled slightly, and she asked in a low voice. "Is your love for me really eternal?" Benedict signed back urgently, as if afraid that a split-second delay might cause her to misunderstand. "I, Benedict Vanderbilt, will love Vanessa Hayes forever. In this life—no, for all eternity. I will never betray her. If I break this vow, may I lose my reputation and everything I own." Such passionate words of devotion, yet they couldn't warm a heart that had already gone completely cold. He had already broken his vow, and yet he was still performing for her. Wasn't he tired? Vanessa looked away, unwilling to face his hypocritical face any longer. Benedict looked like he wanted to say something more, but his phone suddenly rang. He glanced at the caller ID, and his expression flickered. He strode a few paces away, away from anyone who might overhear, and took the call. When he came back, an apologetic look had settled on his face. "Sweetheart, something urgent just came up at the company. An emergency acquisition. I have to go back right away. You go ahead and try on the dress. Just tell the associates if you need anything changed. I'll have my driver take you home when you're done." After finishing his signing, he didn't even take the time to give her a hug like he usually did. He just hurried into his car, leaving her with nothing but a view of his back as he sped away. After Benedict left, the associates erupted in excited whispers. "Oh my god, that confession Mr. Vanderbilt just made was so touching. I'm practically in tears." "He's rushing off to handle a business deal worth tens of millions, but he still didn't forget to carefully remind his fiancée about everything. What an incredible, perfect man." Vanessa's heart was filled with nothing but bitter irony. Benedict never used to leave her alone because of work. And besides, when he came back from taking that call, there was an unmistakable flash of desire in his eyes. How could it possibly be work? It was likely a booty call with his little mistress, Sabrina. Vanessa's mouth twisted in a humorless smile as she turned and walked toward the exit. An associate hurried to stop her. "Ms. Hayes, you haven't tried on the dress yet." Vanessa shook her head calmly. "There's no need to try it on." On the day of the wedding, a bride's "body" would be the only thing showing up. This dress was completely useless.
When she returned to the apartment on Park Avenue, her phone chimed with a notification. Vanessa tapped the screen. It was an iMessage from an unknown number. A photo. In the picture, Benedict was shirtless, his back facing the camera. Sabrina was wearing a strapless, fishtail-style wedding dress. The floor-length skirt had been pushed all the way up to her waist, her two smooth, slender legs wrapped tightly around Benedict's toned waist. The pose was ambiguous to the extreme. Immediately after, another message came. A video. Sabrina's face was flushed. She hooked her arms around Benedict's neck, her voice breathy and broken, laced with post-coital laziness. "Benedict... my dress just arrived from Paris today, and you've already wrinkled it." Benedict chuckled and leaned close to Sabrina's ear. His voice was low and hoarse with lust. "You wanted this dress so I could see you in it, right?" "I already fulfilled your request—I had Vanessa's wedding dress designer make you one, too. Tonight, shouldn't you be fulfilling mine?" Sabrina let out a soft, coy gasp. The video cut off abruptly. As if that wasn't enough, the sender added another text message. "Oops, almost forgot Ms. Hayes can't hear. What a shame. I'll make sure to add subtitles for her next time ;)" Vanessa's knuckles went white as she gripped the phone.Tears streamed down her face, splashing onto the cold marble floor. She had never known that a human heart could be split in two. Having the same top-tier designer create wedding dresses for two different women—Benedict, is this what you call love? This kind of love was something she simply couldn't bear. Something she didn't even want. She forced down the searing pain in her chest and lifted a hand to wipe away her tears. The engagement ring on her ring finger flashed into her vision. Vanessa stared at it for a long moment. Then, without a second thought, she pulled it off and dropped it down the kitchen garbage disposal. This was the ring Benedict had personally visited Tiffany's head designer to help design and learn from. After the design was complete, he had flown to Antwerp to pick the center diamond himself, and had completed the final setting under the guidance of a master craftsman. He had been personally involved in every step. When he proposed, he said that only a ring made by his own hands was worthy of their love. He told her that whenever she touched it, she would feel his heartbeat and his promise. But now, his love had gone bad. This ring had naturally lost its original meaning, too. It wasn't until late at night that Benedict came back. Vanessa felt the mattress on his side of the bed dip. A mixed scent of "Jasmine Noir" perfume and post-coital musk wafted from him. The image of the two bodies tangled together in that video instantly flooded her mind. She couldn't control it. She bolted up and rushed to the bathroom, retching. Seeing her so miserable, Benedict was frantic. He immediately tried to call the family doctor. "Sweetheart, did you eat something bad at dinner? Let me call Dr. Evans right away!" Vanessa, red-eyed, pressed her hand down on his to stop him. She mouthed the words. "I'm fine. I just... thought of some pictures and a video that made me sick." Benedict crouched down beside her, patting her back with a pained, worried expression on his face. "Don't look at those kinds of messes anymore. Seeing you like this breaks my heart." As if afraid his signing wasn't enough to convey his heartache, he took her hand and pressed it against his own chest, letting her feel his heart pounding fiercely. Vanessa's gaze drifted downward instinctively. Her eyes immediately caught the distinct red marks peeking out from the open collar of his shirt. She was hit by another uncontrollable wave of nausea, gagging again. What kind of mental fortitude did Benedict possess, to be able to come to her covered in another woman's marks and put on such a deeply affectionate act? Seeing this, Benedict grew even more anxious. "Who sent you those photos and videos? Who did this to my Vanessa? If I find out, I'll make sure they pay!" A bitter smile touched Vanessa's lips. Benedict, the person who did this to me is you. She didn't want to look at that hypocritical face anymore. She pushed him out of the bedroom and locked the door. "Tonight, I want to sleep alone." Benedict's worried calls kept coming from outside the door. But she acted as if she hadn't heard a thing, got straight into bed, and lay down. Benedict's flippant words from the video kept echoing in her mind. After she got together with Benedict, he had promised to give her a kind of devotion unmatched anywhere in New York. Back then, she thought he was the knight who had rescued her from a world of gray silence. But now she could see the truth. He was the devil dragging her into an even deeper hell. He had given her a love carved into her very bones, and then delivered a killing blow straight to her soul. Vanessa closed her eyes. A tear slipped silently from the corner. If she could do it all over again, she would rather have never met Benedict Vanderbilt. The next morning, Vanessa opened the bedroom door to find Benedict leaning against the doorframe. There was a slightly wronged look on his face. "Sweetheart, why did you shut me out? Was it because I left you alone at the bridal shop yesterday? Are you mad at me? I swear, I really did have an emergency acquisition to deal with. Please, can you forgive me?" An emergency acquisition? Rushing off to sleep with Sabrina—to him, that probably did qualify as an "urgent project." Vanessa didn't expose his lie. She only had eight days left before she left. He would find out soon enough that she had known everything all along. She shook her head. "I'm not mad. Work is important. I understand." Her calm, even tone made Benedict's heart lurch with sudden anxiety. He immediately refuted her. "No! Of course my Vanessa is the most important thing! I will never leave you alone again." After signing, he pulled her forcefully into his arms, as if wanting to fuse her into his very bones so they'd never be separated again. Vanessa didn't respond. Never again? There would never be an "again" for them.
Maybe it was a guilty conscience. For the next few days, Benedict didn't leave her side for a moment. He handled company business from home while double-checking the final details with the wedding planner. That changed when a charity gala was held at the Met. Benedict, as one of the main sponsors, had no choice but to attend. He insisted that Vanessa come with him. Before she could even refuse, he had already summoned his personal styling team to their door. It wasn't until they arrived at the gala that Vanessa discovered Sabrina was also there. She was wearing a tight, deep-V Tom Ford gown that left little of her perfect figure to the imagination. Holding a glass of champagne, she walked up to them with a polished smile. "Mr. Vanderbilt. Ms. Hayes." Vanessa studied the woman before her. Sabrina was poised and completely at ease, acting as if she and the woman who had sent those taunting messages last night were two entirely different people. Oscar-worthy acting, just like Benedict. Vanessa had clearly seen the flicker in Benedict's eyes when they landed on Sabrina, the subtle roll of his Adam's apple. Yet he kept a firm grip on her hand, only giving Sabrina a cold, impersonal nod—the perfect picture of a boss. As soon as people at the gala spotted Benedict, they flocked over with champagne glasses to network. A few wives of finance tycoons tried to chat with Vanessa. But she maintained her role as someone with no hearing, giving no reaction to any of the conversation around her. Benedict smiled and explained on her behalf to everyone. Then, worried she might be bored, he personally went to the refreshment table and selected her favorite macarons, placing a glass of sparkling water by her hand. The wives gushed with praise. "Benedict is truly the perfect gentleman." "We've long heard that his devotion to his fiancée is on another level. Seeing it firsthand today, the rumors don't do it justice." Vanessa kept her eyes lowered. Her long lashes concealed the mockery in her gaze. Just as everyone was chatting, Benedict's phone buzzed. He checked it, and his expression shifted slightly. With an apologetic tone, he said to the group, "Excuse me, everyone, there's an urgent work matter I need to handle." He didn't forget to sign to Vanessa. "Sweetheart, something urgent came up. Sit here and wait for me. I'll be right back." Almost subconsciously, Vanessa swept her eyes across the ballroom. Sabrina was gone, too. A moment later, her own phone buzzed. Sabrina had sent her a message. It was a screenshot of a chat. In the screenshot, Sabrina had sent a photo of her bare back. The zipper of her gown was pulled all the way down, leaving everything to the imagination. Below the picture was the message. "Benedict, I can't zip up my dress. Could you come help me?" Benedict had only replied with two short words. "Your location." Immediately after, Sabrina sent another text. "He couldn't even wait. Just took me in a private lounge on the third floor. There were waitstaff passing right outside in the hallway. So thrilling. He took me twice. My legs are so weak I can barely walk. It's a feeling you could never give him." "Oh, and we didn't use protection. And it's not the first time. He said if it happens, it happens, and I can keep it. For all I know, his future heir might already be inside me." Vanessa squeezed her eyes shut, pressing hard against her chest to try and ease the tearing pain. He was so desperate he couldn't even wait a few hours? Her phone buzzed again. She thought it was another round of provocation from Sabrina. Instead, it was an encrypted email from the special effects studio. "Ms. Hayes, your new identity has been prepared. We have booked you a flight to London departing at six p.m., five days from now. Please confirm once more whether to proceed with the final plan." Vanessa opened her camera, aimed it at her own face, and recorded a short video. "I can confirm I'm leaving." The words had barely left her mouth when a panicked voice sounded behind her. "Leaving? Vanessa, you're leaving?"
Vanessa instinctively wanted to turn around but immediately remembered that her "deaf" status hadn't been exposed yet. She forced herself to freeze. Benedict rushed around to face her, his eyes wild with genuine terror. "Sweetheart, you're leaving me? Our wedding is right around the corner. Where are you going?" Seeing her absolute lack of reaction, Benedict snapped back to his senses and quickly repeated himself in sign language. Vanessa's expression remained perfectly calm. "It's a friend of mine. She's leaving New York." Benedict studied her face intently. Only after confirming that her expression was cool and she showed no signs of lying did he let out a long breath of relief. "Oh, thank god. Vanessa, do you have any idea how close my heart came to stopping just now? I honestly can't even imagine how I would go on living if you ever left me." Benedict held her tightly in his arms, his face etched with lingering fear. Listening to this deeply moving declaration, Vanessa's heart was utterly unmoved. If you're so terrified of me leaving, then why did you betray me? Was it because you thought I couldn't hear, so you felt invincible? What a pity. I hate to disappoint you. The fear in Benedict's heart hadn't yet subsided when he wrapped his arm around her waist, ready to leave the gala. "Sweetheart, let's go home. From this moment on, I won't let you out of my sight for a single second." "What about your assistant?" "She wasn't feeling well. She already left early." Hearing the lie roll so smoothly off his tongue, Vanessa felt nothing but biting sarcasm. Just as they reached the VIP parking area of the underground garage, Vanessa spotted Sabrina in a struggle with a man. The man had one hand clamped around Sabrina's wrist, refusing to let her leave. His other hand was about to slide up her waist. Sabrina yanked herself free and whipped a hard slap across his face. Enraged, the man grabbed a champagne bottle from a nearby service cart and smashed it toward her. In that split-second, all Vanessa felt was the arm around her waist suddenly vanish. Benedict lunged forward and shielded Sabrina tightly in his arms. The bottle smashed hard against his shoulder. Sharp glass shredded through the expensive suit fabric and into his skin. Bright red blood instantly soaked into his white dress shirt. Benedict's face darkened with a terrifying fury. First, he quickly checked that Sabrina in his arms was unharmed. Then he grabbed the man by the collar and slammed his fist into his face, punch after brutal punch. "Who the hell gave you the nerve to touch my woman! You're dead!" As soon as the man got a clear look at Benedict's face, he was so terrified he started begging for mercy and didn't dare fight back. Off to the side, a shard of flying glass had cut a thin streak of blood across Vanessa's cheek. But she felt nothing. She just stood there, silent and still, watching the enraged man. The scene before her eyes slowly merged with a memory. Five years ago, not long after she and Benedict had started dating, they had attended a similar gala. That was the first time she had appeared in public as Benedict Vanderbilt's girlfriend. His reputation as a "devoted knight" hadn't yet taken root in everyone's mind. When people realized she couldn't hear, she saw the contempt and mockery in their eyes with perfect clarity. After Benedict was pulled aside by a business partner to talk shop, a few men with bad intentions surrounded her. They all assumed she was nothing more than a temporary plaything for Benedict. Even though she couldn't hear the words coming out of their mouths, she could read the taunting, lecherous intent written all over their faces. She wanted to call for help but was terrified of causing trouble for Benedict. All she could do was warn them off with her eyes, again and again. The only response she got was even deeper ridicule from the men. Just as one man's hand was about to touch her cheek, Benedict drop-kicked the man several feet away. Then, his eyes blazing red with rage, he pinned the man to the ground and beat him bloody. Afterward, he ordered his assistants to use every means possible to bankrupt these men's family businesses on Wall Street. From that point on, everyone knew the rule. Vanessa Hayes was Benedict Vanderbilt's forbidden territory. No one was allowed to touch her. Now, the exact same scene was playing out. Except the woman he was shielding in his arms wasn't her anymore.
On the way to the private hospital, Benedict finally noticed the cut on Vanessa's cheek. After beating that man, he had been busy comforting the trembling Sabrina ever since. Once they arrived at the hospital, he completely ignored his own bleeding shoulder and insisted the doctor treat the wound on Vanessa's face first. "The wedding is right around the corner. There can't be a single flaw on my Vanessa's face!" After saying that, he turned to her and signed, his eyes flooding with guilt. "Baby, this is all my fault. I only protected her just now because Sabrina is my subordinate. It was my duty as her employer. Please don't be mad at me, okay?" Vanessa didn't answer. She just signaled to the doctor to ignore her wound and focus on treating Benedict's shoulder. It wasn't like she was even going to show up at that wedding. Whether there was a scar on her face or not didn't matter. Benedict, however, took this as a sign that she was worried about him. Pure emotion swelled in his expression. The doctor cut away the custom-made dress shirt, soaked through with blood, exposing the ghastly wound underneath. Only then did Vanessa notice that the location of the wound was exactly the same spot as the scar left by the piercing rebar from that accident five years ago. Now, the circular scar that had witnessed the very beginning of their love was covered by a fresh new wound. There wasn't a trace of it left to see. For a moment, she felt dazed. It seemed even God was sending a sign—their relationship was already a thing of the past. After leaving the hospital, Sabrina wrapped her arms around herself, trembling, and choked out the words to Benedict. "Benedict... tonight... can I stay at your place?" Seeing Sabrina in such a rare state of vulnerability, Benedict's heart softened a little. He carefully watched Vanessa's expression as he tentatively signed to her. "Sweetheart, my assistant Sabrina was really shaken up tonight. Would it be alright if she stayed at our place for one night? Just in the guest room." As if terrified she might misunderstand, he hurriedly added. "I don't mean anything else by it. As her boss, it's just my responsibility to make sure an employee's emotional state is stable." Watching his anxious expression, Vanessa's nails dug into her palms unconsciously. Did he actually want to brazenly bring that woman into their home? Then, a self-deprecating smile touched her lips. Forget it. She would be gone soon enough. Once she left, Sabrina would move into that apartment sooner or later anyway. Why even bother caring now? "Whatever," she mouthed. Probably because she was there, Benedict barely spoke to Sabrina during the entire drive. Whenever Sabrina tried to talk to him, he would silence her with a look. Vanessa didn't want to watch this two-person show any longer. She closed her eyes and rested against the soft leather seat of the Bentley. When they got home, Benedict sent Sabrina, despite the resentful look in her eyes, to the guest room on the second floor. Back in the master bedroom, Benedict retrieved the first-aid kit. He used a cotton swab soaked in iodine to gently treat the cut on her face. "Vanessa, I know you were thinking of me. But how could you tell the doctor to leave your wound untreated? If it left a scar, it would break my heart." After finishing with the wound, he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. "I will never let you get hurt again. Today really was just a freak accident. When I saw my employee being bullied, I just jumped in without thinking." "I mean, an attack on my employee is a direct slap in my face. How could I stand for that? You understand, right, baby?" Benedict's explanation sounded reasonable and well-founded. If Vanessa hadn't already known about their relationship, and hadn't clearly seen the possessive fury blazing in his eyes, she might have actually believed him. She offered no words of understanding. She just said she was tired and wanted to sleep. Benedict immediately moved to do what he always did. He brought her a warm glass of milk and gently patted her back, coaxing her to sleep. Late in the night, a loud clap of thunder woke Vanessa. Disoriented and half-asleep, she instinctively reached to snuggle up to the person beside her. Her arms closed around nothing but empty space. The cold touch of the sheets jolted her fully awake. She got up and went downstairs. Just as she reached the top of the staircase on the second floor, she heard a woman's suppressed moans. She halted, forced down the bitter ache rising in her heart, and moved one step at a time toward the guest bedroom door. The guest bedroom door was wide open. In the warm yellow light of the bedside lamp, two completely bare bodies were entangled together.
Sabrina had both hands locked around the back of Benedict's neck. Her face was flushed with the heat of arousal, and she was panting out desperate, helpless breaths. "Benedict... no more... I can't..." Benedict buried his head against her chest, his voice thick and husky. "A man put his hands on you today. I'm going to leave my mark all over you. Don't even think about resting until I say it's over." Sabrina tilted her head back, gasping for air as she spoke. "Tell me... what if Ms. Hayes saw..." Before she could finish, Benedict stopped moving. His face cold, he cut her off. "She can't hear. She'll never find out. You are not to bring our affairs to her." Sabrina pouted pitifully, trailing her fingers in little circles over his solid chest. "I know... it's just... the thought of her becoming your wife soon, while I'm nothing but a dirty secret... it makes me sad." Seeing her act so pitiful softened something in Benedict. He pinched her cheek. "You jealous little thing. I've already brought you into my home. What more do you want?" "Rest assured, even after I'm married, I won't leave you. I'll give you whatever you want. Whatever Vanessa has, I'll make sure you get one, too." Only then did a smile bloom back onto Sabrina's face. "Then I want you to stay with me until the wedding." Benedict hesitated for a couple of seconds, but seeing the pleading, dewy look in the woman's eyes, he agreed. "Fine." Sabrina's eyes lit up. She leaned in close to his ear, her breath warm and suggestive. "And... I want to devour you right now." The look in Benedict's eyes instantly darkened. He grabbed her by the waist, and the two of them tangled together once more. A flash of lightning from outside the window illuminated Vanessa's pale face in the doorway. Her hand was clamped so tightly over her mouth to stop herself from sobbing that her whole body shook. Tears had long since blurred her vision. She had seen the taunting videos Sabrina sent. But the pain they caused was nothing, not even a fraction, compared to what she was witnessing with her own two eyes right now. Every moan, every single suggestive whisper, was like a poison-dipped blade, stabbing her heart into a bloody, shredded mess. The sounds from inside the room grew louder. Unable to listen for another second, Vanessa turned and fled. Back in the bedroom, she curled up on the bed, hugging herself with all her might. But she felt no warmth at all. The piercing moans echoed in her ears without end. She pressed her hands desperately against her ears, but it was useless. Barefoot, she went downstairs and ran out without looking back, disappearing into the pouring rain. Outside, thunder roared and lightning cracked. But it was as if she felt none of it. The only thing in her mind was that the luxury penthouse behind her looked like a monster with a gaping, bloodthirsty mouth. She needed to get as far away as possible. She walked numbly down the empty Fifth Avenue. The rain soaked her to the bone. She could barely keep her eyes open. In her daze, the rain seemed to stop. She looked up. It was as if she saw a younger Benedict, holding an umbrella over her. His eyes were filled with an intense, almost palpable sense of regret. "Vanessa, leave him. Leave the version of me who no longer loves you. Don't forgive him." Red-eyed, she looked at the man who had once loved her so sincerely. Fine. I will definitely leave him. I will never forgive. It was almost dawn by the time Vanessa returned home in a trance. She had just peeled off her wet clothes and collapsed into bed when Benedict carefully opened the bedroom door. As he always did, he gently tucked the covers in around her and pulled her tenderly into his arms. Then, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, he whispered. "Vanessa, I really do love you so much. In three days, you'll finally be my wife. We'll grow old together." He spoke the words to himself, completely missing the single tear that slipped silently from Vanessa's eye. She had read something online once. A man's sudden tenderness is usually just guilt after cheating. She never understood what that meant before. Now, she was living it, feeling it in her bones. All she wanted now was for time to move faster. For the day she could leave to come sooner.
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