After watching the trending drama between the so-called heir and his adopted sister—full of scandal, affection, and betrayal—stay at the top of the trending topic for three straight days, I didn't hesitate. I called off our engagement, hopped on a late-night flight abroad, and booked myself eight male models for company.

Unexpectedly, he broke down on the spot and went to complain to my mother in tears.

The man in his tailored suit had bloodshot eyes and a trembling voice.

"Adeline Joyner, I went on a business trip, not my funeral. If you thought I was cheating, you could've asked. Did you really have to dump me like I was guilty without a trial?"

***

After learning I was arranged to marry Nathan Powell, a wealthy heir, the first thing I did was to block the news.

This was because the day before meeting the Powell family, I accidentally overheard him talking with his friend.

"If you really marry someone else, Genevieve Powell will fly back from England and kill you on the spot."

Genevieve was Nathan's adopted sister. Supposedly, their relationship had already crossed the boundaries of siblings, which was why the Powell family urgently sent her abroad.

So when the elders from both families met and asked if we were willing to enter into an arranged marriage—

I stared at Nathan for a long time before nodding. "I'm willing, but no information about this arranged marriage can be revealed to the outside world."

Everyone, including Nathan, was stunned. I simply said calmly, "I don't want my marriage to become gossip for everyone else to entertain themselves with."

On the first day I moved in to live with Nathan, I made it clear to him that I didn't like Genevieve Powell.

And I couldn't accept him having someone else in his heart while being with me.

Nathan looked at me with a gentle smile, his eyes sincere and his voice firm. "Don't worry, Adeline. You'll be the only one in my heart."

After saying this, he kissed my lips, and we had a passionate night.

I couldn't tell how much of those words were genuine and how much were fake.

But during the three years we lived together day and night afterward, he treated me with the utmost tenderness and indulged my every wish.

Just when I thought we could get married, Genevieve came back.

At the same time, Nathan, who never worked overtime, suddenly started coming home at 2:00 a.m.

The news "Powell picks up adopted sister late at night, the two rekindle their romance" dominated the trending topics.

In the video, Nathan sat in a black Maybach, with half his profile visible through the gap of the car window.

He looked as handsome as always, but this time it made my heart ache sharply.

After people dug up the story, netizens flocked to Genevieve's social media to get the scoop.

Someone boldly spoke up directly in the comments.

"Genevieve, are you really dating Mr. Powell?"

Genevieve replied at 3:00 a.m., "Nathan said my place in his heart will never change."

Below was a photo of a man wearing an apron, busy in the kitchen.

I recognized that silhouette as Nathan's immediately.

At 3:00 a.m., a man and woman alone together in the same room—even under the guise of being siblings, it was far too intimate.

This incident instantly became a trending topic. I looked at the comments section filled with blessings for the two of them.

Then I looked at Nathan's rejection of my phone call thirty minutes earlier.

That message saying "Busy" pierced through my heart like a knife. In the past, I wouldn't have overthought it, but all these coincidences connecting together were suffocating me.

Once suspicion takes root, the crime was established.

I stayed awake with insomnia until the early morning hours, finally falling asleep near dawn.

But I was soon woken up by the sound of Nathan making a phone call.

"Yes, everything must be taken down before daybreak, or it will affect her."

My heart trembled, and the jacket covering me suddenly carried a faint scent of roses.

I never used perfume with that scent, and it certainly couldn't be Nathan's either.

Looking at what had been trending at the top of the headlines but had now disappeared without a trace—

The identity of "her" became obvious.

When Nathan saw that I was awake, he quickly came over and hugged me, burying his head in the crook of my neck.

His voice was hoarse and muffled. "Baby, don't move. Let me recharge for a bit."

In that moment, I felt like he might actually love me.

My hands instinctively wrapped around his back, my fingers gently running through his hair.

Nathan hugged me even tighter, as if he was afraid I might escape from his arms.

I stayed in his embrace like that. Even though we were so close, I couldn't see him clearly anymore.

Thinking about it, my tears started falling uncontrollably.

My tears might've dripped onto Nathan's face, because he slowly woke up.

When he saw my red, swollen eyes, he instantly became alert, his eyes full of worry and heartache.

"What's wrong, baby? Why are you crying?

"Am I crushing you?"

The more he asked, the more I cried.

He kissed away my tears, panicking and not knowing what to do.

But when he gently nuzzled my face with his head, I suddenly noticed a glaring red stain on his white shirt.

That shade was very distinctive—it was a new color from Dior's latest collection.

And Genevieve happened to be their spokesperson.

The words I wanted to confront him with instantly got stuck in my throat, and my mind flashed back to what Genevieve had said to provoke me years ago.

All those intimate details between them that she had deliberately shown me were magnified in an instant.

It seemed like I was the third wheel.

After a long moment, I weakly pushed Nathan off me. "It's nothing. I just miss my mom a little."

Nathan paused, as if relieved, and cupped my face with both hands.

"Then let's go see her right now, okay?"

Before I could answer, his phone on the table rang, and I immediately saw the caller ID.

The name "Genevieve" was like thorns buried deep in my heart—every time they appeared, I felt like dying.

Nathan quickly kissed my forehead, then took his phone to the balcony.

I couldn't hear what he said, but seeing his anxious expression made a sense of crisis surge in my heart.

That emotion I'd never felt before seemed to suddenly break through.

Nathan hung up and came out, looking apologetic.

"Sorry, baby, I can't go see her with you today.

"Something happened at the company. I need to make an emergency business trip to Atlanta. I have to leave now."

I bit my lip, swallowing back my pathetic tears.

"Nathan, we..."

The words "should break up" never made it out.

"We'll... go see her next time."

Nathan came over and hugged me, softly comforting me. "Okay then, wait for me to come back."

Before leaving, he kissed me deeply for a long time, just like always.

In that moment, I even had the illusion that maybe I was overthinking everything.

But that afternoon, I saw Genevieve's Instagram post again.

The picture showed her injured foot, with the caption, "I'd like to thank someone for taking such good care of me."

The comment section exploded with congratulatory messages.

"Ah! Who is this certain someone Genevieve's talking about? So hard to guess @Nathan Powell"

"I went to the same school as Genevieve. Nathan was always protective of her back then."

I thought this would go viral, but Genevieve deleted the post shortly after.

There wasn't a trace of it on the Internet, as if it never happened.

I gripped my phone, numbly refreshing the page.

Was it him again? Was he afraid she'd get hurt, so he kept suppressing the trending topics?

I didn't know what words to use to express my feelings.

I felt like I was dying inside, ice cold despite the summer heat.

Then a new post popped up on my feed from an account I'd seen before.

Netizens had previously exposed this as Genevieve's alternate account.

The post made my heart sink even more—it was a photo of two people holding hands with fingers interlaced.

The black mole on the guy's ring finger could only belong to Nathan.

My whole body went cold, my hands shaking uncontrollably until I dropped my phone.

When I picked it up, I had accidentally liked that post.

As I was about to unlike it, I received a direct message from that account.

She sent me a photo of Nathan blow-drying her hair, her tone the same as before.

"I heard he proposed to you? So what?

"You think my twenty-plus years of bond with Nathan will lose to your loveless business marriage?

"In Nathan's heart, even if you tried your hardest, he'd still choose me.

"One phone call from me and he came running to comfort me. And you? You're just a loser who can't even control her own man!"

For the first time ever, I didn't fight back when she provoked me.

I just kept looking at that photo over and over again, my heart aching like it was being cut by a knife.

The person I had treasured for over ten years was nothing more than someone who could be hooked with a simple gesture to others.

I stared at my phone. My chat history with Nathan was still stuck on that rejected call.

I stubbornly refused to message him first, thinking my unusual coldness would make him notice something was wrong.

But in the end, I realized I was only punishing myself.

A few more days passed, and I still hadn't received any messages from Nathan.

Until this morning, when I typed out a long message, ready to send it.

But the next second, a message popped up from him. "Genevieve and I slept together. Let's break up."

My mind went numb, a dull pain hit my chest, and I felt like I was suffocating.

So during all those nights I spent in agony, he really was with Genevieve the whole time?

My tears flowed like a waterfall.

I remembered last year's birthday, when I mentioned wanting to go to the beach, and he booked the entire island.

He personally placed 9,999 roses on the beach.

Under the sunset, in the sea breeze, he held me in his arms and told me word by word, "Adeline, you can only be mine for your entire life!"

For two days and two nights, we were passionately entwined in the crashing waves.

But now all I could picture in my mind was him being intimate with someone else.

I leaned against the wall and sobbed until my whole body went numb.

My breathing gradually became difficult, and after I coughed up a mouthful of blood, I lost consciousness.

When I woke up again, I was lying in a hospital bed.

A delivery driver had seen me collapsed through the window and kindly called 911.

The doctor said I had somatization symptoms caused by extreme emotional distress.

"I stared blankly at the IV drip hanging above the hospital bed. It felt like I had cried every tear dry.

When I opened my phone, there were actually several messages from Nathan.

"I'm coming home tonight. I have something to tell you."

The heart monitor next to me started making sharp beeping sounds, and I almost fainted again.

The doctor said my condition needed more observation, but I insisted on leaving the hospital.

When I got home, I saw a package on the table. From the exposed corner, I could clearly see it was a sale and purchase agreement.

I remembered what Genevieve had posted on her private Instagram account. "Nathan said he wants to build me a palace and hide me away where no one else can see me!"

I didn't dare open it to look at what was inside.

I just went back to my room, packed my things, and then went to a law firm to draft papers breaking off our engagement.

I'd always been a coward when it came to relationships. I didn't know how to face everything that was happening.

I couldn't tell my mom either, because that would only cause her more worry.

After placing the papers in Nathan's study, I booked the earliest flight abroad.

On my way to the airport, I passed by the Powell Group's office building and looked up at Nathan on the big screen, full of confidence and vigor.

I smiled bitterly.

Thank goodness we'd kept the news under wraps; otherwise, my pathetic state would just give people more to laugh about.

After boarding the plane, I turned off my phone. Right now, I just wanted to be alone.

It wasn't until a day later that I turned my phone back on and connected to the internet.

The missed calls and messages nearly crashed my phone—it seemed like the whole world was looking for me.

Most of the messages were actually from Nathan. I opened our chat with trembling hands and was instantly stunned. He'd sent over a hundred voice messages, and finally sent a few angry texts.

"Do you think I can't track you down just because you left without saying a word? Adeline, you just wait!

"What's the meaning of the papers to break off the engagement in my study? Do you have someone else? I'd rather die than break up with you!

"I'm begging you, please answer the phone. At least let me know you're safe. Don't torture me like this..."