The day Iselle Branor was officially welcomed back into her birth family, the girl who had stolen her life for twenty years—Delphine—proposed a cruel little game.

A wager.

"If I can take away nine things that matter most to you," Delphine said with a sweet smile that didn't reach her eyes, "you leave this family. On your own. No complaints."

Iselle's lips barely moved. "Deal."

She didn't expect to win.

She just wanted to know how far her so-called family would let it go.

One by one, Delphine claimed them—her room, her birthday gifts, her place at the dinner table, even the family heirloom meant for Iselle at birth.

Eight losses.

Then came the ninth.

"I'll take your man next," Delphine announced, tossing a platinum bank card onto the table. "$300,000. I want him to marry into our family. Let's see how loyal your poor little boyfriend really is."

Caelen Morven.

The soft-spoken scholarship student who made her laugh when the world crumbled around her.

"Marry in? Seriously?" Iselle whispered, her heart dropping.

Caelen's fingers tapped the card with deceptive calm. Then his eyes lifted to meet hers—warm, gentle, devoted.

"I'll marry in, but only if it's to Iselle," he said softly. "I may be poor, but I still have pride. I'll kneel to no one but the woman I love."

For a second, Iselle believed him.

Delphine stormed off in tears, humiliated. That night, she announced she'd marry into the Durrell family instead—as a "lucky bride" to save their heir from a rumored curse.

Later that evening, she showed up at Caelen's, carrying the custom engagement ring she'd designed for him.

Before she knocked, she heard voices inside.

"Don Morven, are you really going to stand by and watch Ms. Delphine marry into the Durrells?"

Iselle froze.

Don Morven? That name belonged to the most feared man in the underworld.

Inside, Caelen's tone was no longer soft. It was cold. Calculating.

"I underestimated her," he said. "I thought marrying Iselle would be enough to break her, but the little witch still refuses to bend. Fine. Let the Durrell wedding happen—but make sure Iselle is the one who shows up at the altar. Tie her up if you have to."

A pause. Then:

"My identity must remain hidden. Delphine wants to play games? I'll teach her what it means to lose."

The ring slipped from Iselle's fingers, clattering to the floor. Her entire world tilted.

She walked out in silence and sent a message to her brother:

"I'll take Delphine's place. I'll marry into the Durrell family. Tell them the bad luck ends with me."

* * *

"You're really going through with it?"

Nolan Verren blinked up at her from behind his gaming console. When Iselle didn't respond, he put the controller down, suddenly alert.

"The Durrells called again," he said. "The heir's condition is worsening. They want the bride within two weeks. I'll have the wedding car prepped. What kind of gift do you want? A car? A villa? Anything."

"I want two things," Iselle said, her voice cool. "If you still remember I'm your real sister."

Nolan tensed. "Name them."

"One, I want the two courtyard houses that were promised to me. And two—no one can know I'm marrying into the Durrell family for luck. Not Delphine. Not Caelen. No one."

Nolan's face froze, then twisted in disbelief.

"Two courtyard houses? That's 260 million dollars! Are you out of your mind?"

"Those two courtyard houses were supposed to be my wedding gift from Mom and Dad when I was born. I'm just taking back what's mine—what right do you have to call me greedy?"

Iselle's questions left Nolan's veins bulging with anger, but he couldn't get a word out.

He stared at her for a long time but saw not a hint of retreat in her eyes. Finally, he gritted his teeth and said, "Fine. I'm done arguing. Either way, you're marrying into the Durrell family. That's already decided."

"Those two courtyard houses... I already transferred them to Delphine's name. I'll have someone handle the paperwork for you."

Iselle let out a cold laugh and turned to leave.

Just before the door closed behind her, Nolan asked one last question.

"Let's say the courtyard houses are yours and it makes sense for you to want them back. But why are you hiding this from Caelen?

"Isn't he madly in love with you? Wasn't he willing to marry into your family just for you? Your wedding is about to happen—how are we supposed to explain this to him?"

"There's nothing to explain," Iselle snapped, her face colder than ever.

Only then did Nolan realize that the girl who'd grown up in an orphanage was not as meek and compliant as she seemed on the surface.

Once Iselle stepped out of the room, her eyes finally began to redden.

She stared at the new wallpaper she'd just put up, at the wedding photo with Caelen, and her heart twisted as if a knife had been plunged in and twisted.

Just then, Caelen called. "Iselle, when are you coming home?"

He was always checking up on her.

Iselle was about to answer when she heard a muffled sound from his end of the line.

She froze, struggling to keep her voice steady as she asked casually, "What are you doing?"

"Thinking about you. Since you won't give yourself to me, I have to take care of it myself."

Iselle pulled up the security feed from Caelen's place. On the screen, she saw Caelen with one hand moving below, while shooting Delphine a wicked grin.

He whispered sweet nothings meant for Iselle, making Delphine's eyes well with angry tears. Finally, unable to control herself, Delphine reached out—and a louder, unmistakable sound echoed through Iselle's phone.

Caelen had gotten what he wanted, tossing his phone aside without a care.

He had no idea Iselle could see everything around him. He didn't know she watched as he tilted Delphine's chin up and said, "That's all it takes to rile you up? Just give in, tell me you love me, and I won't marry Iselle."

Iselle didn't watch any further. She cut off the feed, severed all connection, and tears streamed uncontrollably down her face.

Why was she hiding her plan to marry into the Durrell family from Caelen?

To outsiders, they looked like the perfect couple, madly in love.

But only Iselle knew the truth. Every affection Caelen showed her was just a ploy to pressure the Branor family's little princess, Delphine.

Since he'd been lying to her for so long, what was so wrong about lying to him just this once?

"I don't want to love Caelen anymore," Iselle told herself, wiping away her tears. "As long as I'm alive, I'll do whatever it takes to get away from him."

Thinking back on her past with Caelen, Iselle felt as if her heart were being ripped apart.

The first time Iselle met Caelen, they were both at their lowest points.

When she'd first been brought back to the Branor family, life had actually been smooth for a little while.

Her parents, guilty over the fact that she'd been kidnapped by a nanny and left to grow up in an orphanage, tried to make it up to her in their own awkward way, even if they never really formed a bond.

But Iselle could always sense it—her entire family preferred Delphine, the girl they'd raised as their own. Delphine's room was the biggest, the brightest in the house. She had a mild case of hay fever, so Iselle wasn't allowed to have a bedroom on the same floor. Delphine claimed Iselle carried some strange scent that made her sneeze.

Iselle had never wanted to compete with her for anything—until Delphine challenged her to a bet.

Delphine said she could steal away whatever mattered most to Iselle. Not just once, but nine times.

If she succeeded, Iselle would have to leave the Branor family on her own. If not, she'd just be humiliating herself by staying.

Iselle agreed. She wanted to know if her blood relatives truly didn't care about her at all.

She lost the first eight rounds, just as expected. Iselle had already given up, she packed her bags, ready to leave the Branor family as soon as the bet was over.

That was when she found Caelen, lying in a back alley.

He'd collapsed in the rain, his abdomen riddled with bullet wounds. Blood was pooling around him, staining the soles of Iselle's shoes bright red.

He reached out and grabbed her ankle, but she couldn't risk bringing someone like him to a hospital.

Still, she couldn't just leave him there. Her conscience wouldn't allow it. In the end, she dragged him to a tiny, out-of-the-way clinic.

There was no real doctor, just an elderly woman with silver hair.

It was as if she'd been expecting Iselle to show up with the wounded man—she asked no questions. What shocked Iselle most was how quickly the man's wounds healed, how even his broken leg mended as if by magic.

Just before they left, the elder woman finally spoke. "This man is no good for you. The Durrell family's heir is your true destiny. I'll help you."

Back then, Iselle didn't even know who the Durrell heir was, nor did she understand what the elder woman meant.

After returning to the Branor family, Caelen became someone Iselle couldn't let go of.

So Caelen became her fiancé, and Delphine set her sights on him as her next target.

It became the ninth round of their bet. When Iselle and Delphine faced off, Nolan stood behind Delphine, giving Iselle a look that told her to give up.

But in the heavy silence, Caelen reached for Iselle's hand.

"The only one I love is Iselle.

"The only woman worth marrying into her family for is Iselle."

In that moment, Iselle was in tears—she'd finally won, just once.

But after Delphine agreed to marry into the Durrell family as a substitute bride, that last beautiful dream shattered. Iselle overheard Caelen giving his men cold instructions. "When the Durrell family comes to pick up the bride, tie Iselle up and put her in the car.

"And keep my identity a secret.

"When Delphine finally gives in, I'll tell her myself."

His men agreed, then asked, "What about Ms. Iselle? You went through all this trouble for her—are you just going to leave her with the Durrell family?"

Caelen paused, considering.

"She's obedient and sensible. I promised to be good to her."

"Once the Durrell family stops caring about her, grab her and take her to my place in the North District. If you let her get away, I'll break your legs."

So, the man she'd saved was none other than the underworld's most mysterious Don Morven—the one man the Branor family could never afford to cross. He was the nightmare she would never escape, even after marrying into the Durrell family.

At that moment, Iselle remembered the elder woman's words. Instead of being a pawn, maybe it was time to play her own game.

From Nolan, she learned that the Durrell family's heir, Asher Durrell, had nearly died on a mission at the border and was now brain-dead.

Iselle's heart whispered, "Maybe saving him would be more valuable than saving Caelen. Maybe, just maybe, he really is my destiny—just as the elder woman said."

With her mind made up, Iselle finally felt a faint sense of relief settle in her chest.

The moment she stepped through the front door, she nearly collided with Delphine, who stormed out with red-rimmed eyes. Delphine shoved her hard. "Get out of my way."

Iselle's lower back slammed against the corner of the table, but Caelen caught her just in time.

Caelen's expression darkened as he stepped between them, blocking Delphine's path. "Apologize."

"What is she to me? Why should I apologize to her?" Delphine shot back in disbelief. "Caelen, don't push your luck."

Without a word, Caelen lifted the hem of Iselle's shirt, revealing a nasty bruise blossoming across her lower back. His face turned stormy.

His voice was ice. "Don't make me do something you'll regret."

Delphine flinched, tears spilling down her cheeks one by one, looking for all the world like a wounded little rabbit.

There was a time when Iselle had longed for someone in this family to stand up for her, to be her shield.

But now that the moment had finally arrived, it felt almost laughable.

The scent of Caelen's body wash was unmistakable—the very same as Delphine's.

Iselle was so tired. If someone didn't truly care for her, what was the point of keeping them close?

She sidestepped Caelen's support. "I'm fine. Grandma's hosting a family dinner tonight. I need to go change."

"You don't want her to apologize?" Caelen couldn't hide his surprise.

He remembered clearly—whenever he defended her in front of Delphine, there used to be a light in Iselle's eyes. But now, her gaze was as still and deep as an old well—utterly unmoved.

For the first time, Caelen felt a strange pang in his chest. He quickly offered, "Can I go with you tonight?"

Iselle glanced at him, surprised, but when she saw the hope flickering in his eyes, she understood instantly. "Come if you want."

Caelen never liked crowded events, but if he didn't attend the dinner, he'd have to be apart from Delphine—a torment he could hardly bear.

Thankfully, in just two weeks, she'd be married off to the Durrell family. Once she was out of the picture, Caelen and Delphine could be together as much as they wanted.

That evening, the car pulled up to the Branor family estate. For Caelen—the so-called "poor" future son-in-law—this was his first time attending such a formal gathering.

Iselle didn't wait for him. A flicker of annoyance crossed Caelen's face, but he quickly replaced it with a polite smile and followed behind her, drawing admiring glances from all around.

"Say what you will, Iselle may not be much, but the husband she brought in is top-tier—looks and build both."

"No kidding. And since he's marrying into the family, she won't have to put up with any in-law drama, either."

Iselle showed no reaction, but Delphine was fuming. She flung herself into her grandmother Isadora's arms, pouting like a child.

Isadora cradled her, soothing her gently. "Poor Delphine, having to marry into the Durrell family and suffer. It's all someone's fault for not knowing her place—trying to steal our precious future son-in-law. If you'd gotten engaged sooner, you wouldn't have to be a substitute bride now."

A cold, mocking smile tugged at Iselle's lips. It seemed everyone in the Branor family thought it was no big deal for her to be sent off to the Durrell family.

To Delphine, marrying into the Durrell family was a nightmare. But for Iselle, was it supposed to be paradise?

That night, in front of everyone, Isadora slipped the gold bangle off her left wrist and handed it to Delphine.

"This is our family heirloom. It's only passed down to one person each generation. Delphine, it's yours now."

"No." In the midst of the silence, a man's steady voice rang out.

Iselle froze, turning to see who had spoken.

Caelen lounged back in his chair, exuding a kind of effortless elegance that didn't fit his supposed status. A faint, knowing smile played on his lips as he fixed Delphine with a piercing stare.

"The true daughter of the Branor family is Iselle, isn't she? Delphine, you're just the adopted one. What right do you have to claim that bangle?"

The atmosphere at the table instantly froze. All eyes turned to Iselle, making her squirm with discomfort.

She quickly tugged at Caelen's sleeve, whispering, "I don't care about any of this. You don't have to do this for me."

Caelen flashed her a smile, then turned back to Delphine, his gaze growing almost brazen.

"Ms. Delphine, unless you want to beg me, I might just let Iselle drop the whole thing."

A chill swept through Iselle's heart.

Caelen wasn't standing up for her at all. He was just using her as an excuse to force Delphine to yield to him, never once considering what would happen to Iselle.

Isadora's cane struck the floor with a heavy thud.

"Enough! Iselle, you've grown bold—letting your future husband humiliate your own sister like this.

"Clearly, you've been harboring these thoughts for a long time.

"I'm warning you if you make things any harder for Delphine, don't blame me for throwing you out of this house."

Iselle lowered her eyes, years of pent-up grievances rising up inside her. She was about to marry into the Durrell family anyway—what did it matter if she got kicked out now?

Suddenly, Iselle lifted her head. "Delphine, want to make another bet with me?"

Delphine's face flickered with unease at the word "bet." She asked, "What are the stakes?"

"This bangle. We'll take turns naming our price, but we can only use what we own as collateral. Whoever puts up the highest value gets the bangle—and the other's wager."

Everyone around the table looked surprised. After all, they all knew Iselle had grown up in an orphanage and was never favored after being brought back. What did she have to compete with Delphine?

Clearly, Delphine thought the same. She whipped out a black card. "Don't back out now. This is my entire savings."

Iselle gave a quiet laugh and produced a card of her own.

The butler checked the balances, his expression growing odd. "Ms. Iselle wins."

"That's impossible!" Delphine sputtered, then pulled out a ring of keys. "Dad gave me an island, Mom gave me a villa, and Nolan gifted me a yacht. That should be enough, right?"

Those were her birthday presents from last year, the year before, and the year before that.

Iselle calmly laid out several documents.

The butler's face grew serious. "Ms. Iselle wins again."

Now, the room was buzzing with shock. Everyone craned their necks, curious to see what was written on those papers.

Iselle's expression didn't change. "Still in?

"Everything you have was really just gifts from Mom and Dad. I doubt you have anything else.

"I'll tell you what I'm putting up—my scholarship money and my patent contracts. All earned by me. And I've got more if you want to keep going."

Delphine's face burned red, her chest heaving as she spat, "Fine! My 260 million dollar courtyard house. There's no way you can come up with that much in such a short time."

Nolan's face changed as he tried to intervene, "Delphine, don't—"

"Why not? It's all I have left, Nolan. Or do you want to see me lose?"

"No, it's just—" Before Nolan could finish, the butler cut in.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Delphine, but those two courtyard houses are already registered to Ms. Iselle."

"What?!" Delphine looked as if someone had strangled her, panic written all over her face.

Her 260 million estate was now Iselle's collateral. If she couldn't offer something worth more, everything she owned would belong to Iselle.

Delphine twisted her sleeves in desperation, while Isadora and Nolan looked on in anxious silence. They couldn't risk their own reputations by openly helping Delphine cheat.

As Delphine bit her lip, on the verge of tears, Iselle simply watched her, calm and unyielding.

In the past, Iselle would never have pushed this far. She'd always tried to fit into the Branor family, never wanting to make things hard for their little princess Delphine. But today, no matter who tried to talk her down, Iselle wouldn't budge.

Someone was already reaching for the bangle, ready to claim it as Iselle's prize, when Delphine suddenly burst into loud sobs.

At that moment, the butler stared in disbelief at his computer screen.

"It's 250 million dollars.

"Just now, someone transferred 250 million dollars into Ms. Delphine's account!"

"Oh my god! 250 million—who could possibly wire that much cash on the spot?" The guests at the family dinner erupted in shock.

The butler wiped the cold sweat from his brow and answered a call. After a few words, he switched on the speakerphone.

A familiar voice came through the line—one Iselle recognized instantly. "Don Morven says Ms. Delphine cannot lose. The Morven family will cover all of Ms. Delphine's bets tonight."

Every word was crystal clear, striking every heart in the room.

"The Morven family! Is that the Morven family I'm thinking of?!"

"Who else could move 250 million that fast? This isn't like that useless fiancé of Iselle's—this is real power."

"Iselle, you should just give up. The Morven family isn't just rich—they never forget a grudge. Cross them, and your life won't be easy."

A buzzing filled Iselle's ears. She stared hard at Caelen.

But he hadn't moved—still wearing that detached, amused smile as he watched Delphine, clearly intrigued by the way her tears had turned into laughter, like a predator studying its prey.

It all felt so absurd to Iselle. She pushed the deeds for the two courtyard houses forward. "260 million. I'm in."

Less than five minutes later, another 30 million dollars landed in Delphine's account.

The Morven family could have crushed Iselle in an instant, but instead, they chose to torment her with this slow, relentless pressure.

Finally, Iselle broke. Her voice was raw as she turned on Caelen. "So Don Morven won't give me even the slightest chance, is that it?"

It was only then that Caelen seemed to remember he was supposed to be her fiancé.

He slipped an apologetic arm around her shoulders.

"I'm sorry, Iselle. I'm just an ordinary guy. I don't have the means to help you with this bet.

"How about this—since this whole mess started because of me, I'll talk to Delphine and call off the wager."

Iselle trembled, her emotions boiling over.

"No means to help?" she questioned in her heart. The man in front of her was the reason things had spiraled out of control.

Whether as her fiancé or the mysterious Don Morven, he was determined to grind her dignity into the dirt.

She struggled out of his grasp. "I'm not backing down. It's just a wager, right? Fine, I'll keep going—"

Caelen frowned and grabbed her arm. "Iselle, don't be reckless. It's not worth losing everything just for your pride, is it?"

Iselle squeezed her eyes shut.

The Durrell family's engagement gift was already in her hands. If she was willing to risk it all, even Caelen wouldn't be able to compete with her.

But if she did that, the truth about her being a stand-in bride would come out for everyone to see...

Still, she couldn't bring herself to lose this bet.

Before she could say another word, Isadora suddenly intervened. Her expression was complicated as she looked at Iselle, and then scolded Delphine.

"That's enough, Delphine. Stop this nonsense. Caelen has a point—it wouldn't be fair to Iselle if I just handed you the bangle.

"I'll hold on to the bangle for now.

"Since there's no wager, this bet is void. Let's just call it a silly game between sisters. Everyone takes back what's theirs."

Caelen arched an eyebrow, and Iselle caught a flicker of disappointment in his eyes.

She yanked her hand free from Caelen's, her nails digging deep into her palm. All she felt was humiliation and regret.

She should never have saved Caelen. If she'd let him die in that alley, it would have been better for everyone.

After the dinner ended, Iselle refused Caelen's offer to walk her home. She wandered back alone, unwilling to face anyone's sympathy or ridicule.

When she reached the riverbank, she saw Caelen and Delphine talking on the opposite shore. Iselle watched them quietly from a distance.

Caelen asked softly, "Do you regret breaking up with me?"

Delphine's voice was cold and brittle. "Does it even matter if I regret it? You're about to marry Iselle, and I have to marry that corpse from the Durrell family. We have no future."

There was a coaxing note in Caelen's voice. "If you just admit you were wrong, I can fix both problems for you."

Delphine let out a bitter laugh. "You're just an ordinary guy—what makes you think your words mean anything? You don't actually believe you're Don Morven, do you?

"If it weren't for him tonight, I would've been completely humiliated, you know that? Caelen, this was all you doing. I hate you."

Iselle stood in silence.

Caelen had clearly resolved everything, but he refused to tell Delphine the truth. Instead, he put on a show of affection for the sister Delphine despised most.

All of it—just to force Delphine to swallow her pride and say sorry.

And Iselle? She was nothing but collateral damage in Caelen and Delphine's petty war.

Suddenly, Iselle had no interest in letting Caelen reveal the truth. She took out her phone and made a call.

"Caelen, I want some of your homemade soup.

"Where are you?"

Caelen sounded a little helpless. "I'm almost home, but I'll head out and pick up some groceries. Do you want chicken soup or seafood chowder?"

Delphine was so riled by his gentle tone that her cheeks burned bright red.

Iselle had sharp eyes and clearly saw a figure turn and dash away. Her goal was achieved, she answered carelessly, "You decide."

Caelen's voice was full of indulgence. "Alright, missy, just sit tight and wait for your soup."

Iselle went inside first.

She'd barely taken a few sips of soup when she heard Caelen call out, "Delphine, Iselle didn't have much of an appetite tonight, so I made her some soup. Want a bowl?"

Delphine approached, then suddenly flipped the bowl off the table. Scalding soup splashed over Iselle's wrist, leaving a vivid red mark.

"I'm allergic to seafood. What are you trying to pull?"

Caelen's lips wore a smile, but his eyes brimmed with malicious provocation. "My sweetheart loves seafood chowder, so that's what I made. And you? Who are you to me? Why should I care about you?"

Iselle tossed her spoon onto the table with a sharp clatter.

"I don't have time for your drama," she said coldly. "But since the soup landed on me, you're either going to wipe it off or lick it clean.

"Caelen, I picked you up off the street. I expect you to remember your place."

Caelen's pupils contracted.

Delphine sneered, "What a temper. Watch how you talk to me, or I'll tell Nolan, and have you thrown out."

Iselle arched her brow, her gaze icy. "Go ahead. See if he says a single word."

Right now, the Branor family needed Iselle more than ever. If she left, where would they find another daughter to take Delphine's place for the Durrell wedding?

After silencing Delphine, Iselle turned to Caelen.

"You seem to enjoy bickering with Delphine. Tell you what—why don't I arrange for you to marry her instead? You can be her little househusband and go with her to the Durrell family. How about it?"

Caelen forced a laugh. "Come on, don't joke like that. I'm a man. Marrying into a family isn't the same as being a bride—no need to make it sound so humiliating."

"That's because I treat you so well," Iselle cut in coldly. "You eat my food, wear my clothes, live under my roof—I even saved your life. What right do you have to say no to me?"

She stood up to leave, but just then, the massive crystal chandelier, suspended four meters above, came crashing down without warning.

Iselle had grown up tough. She instinctively shielded her head with both arms and darted away.

But what she never expected was that, at the crucial moment, Caelen shoved her aside and yanked Delphine out of harm's way.

The chandelier slammed into the floor, shards of glass slashing countless cuts into Iselle's skin.

The pain threatened to drag her into unconsciousness. She glared stubbornly at her fiancé and her sister.

Just before she blacked out, she saw Caelen rushing toward her. His cold hands pressed down on her wounded arm—the final straw that broke her.

When she finally came to, the sharp scent of antiseptic filled her nose. Iselle gritted her teeth, rage boiling inside her with nowhere to go.

Before she even opened her eyes, she heard Delphine's tearful voice by the bedside.

"Caelen, you still love me, don't you? Otherwise, you wouldn't have saved me.

"If that's true, take me away. Let's run. Nolan and my parents will have to send Iselle to marry the Durrell family to keep the peace. Once everything settles down, we can come back."

"Delphine..."

Even with her eyes closed, Iselle could imagine the smug satisfaction hidden behind Caelen's gentle gaze.

He'd finally done it. He'd won Delphine's heart.

Before he could say another word, Iselle forced herself awake, yanking the IV from her right hand.

Caelen spun around at the sound, anxiety etched across his face. "Iselle, you're awake! How do you feel?"

Iselle slapped him hard, snapping his head to the side.

Caelen's pupils shook with disbelief. "Are you out of your mind...?"

Since becoming Don Morven, no one had dared treat him like this.

A slap was more insulting than a knife to the gut.

But Iselle didn't hesitate. She slapped him again.

"Caelen, whose fiancé are you supposed to be?

"Does your conscience really let you shove your own partner aside to protect another woman?"

"Iselle, please, let me explain—"

Iselle's hand trembled violently from the force of her anger, blood speckling the back of her hand. She didn't care. She reached out to press the nurse's call button.

"We're done."

Delphine rushed over and grabbed her hand.

"Iselle, stop! I know you're jealous of me, that you can't stand anyone caring about me.

"But you can't treat Caelen like this. Even if he married into your family, he's still your husband. How can you not give him any respect?"

A flicker of excitement flashed in Delphine's eyes as she pulled Iselle's hand up toward her own face.

"Go ahead, hit me. If you're angry, take it out on me. Just don't hit Caelen anymore."

Iselle could have pulled away, but as she watched Caelen reach out to help Delphine up, she clenched her jaw and let her hand fly, landing a stinging slap across Delphine's cheek.

Delphine shrieked, her face swelling red almost instantly.

Caelen's face was tight, but instead of anger, he actually laughed.

"Iselle, it was my fault. Things happened so fast—I got you and Delphine mixed up, you look so much alike. I swear it won't happen again."

But later that day, as the three of them left the hospital in a car, the driver suddenly turned down a narrow alley. A dozen motorcycles swarmed around them, blocking the way. A man in a black suit, wielding an iron rod, yanked open the car door.

Delphine screamed, diving into Caelen's arms. The man didn't spare her a glance and dragged Iselle out of the car.

"Don Morven sent me to teach you a lesson. Either you let us slap you 100 times, or I'll break your husband's legs." A few men made a show of holding Caelen back.

He shouted, his face twisted in fury, "Come at me! Leave my wife alone!"

Iselle felt nothing but desolation inside, a wasteland hiding an eruption of rage beneath the surface.

She almost laughed. "Go ahead. Break his legs."

Everyone froze.

Delphine was the first to scream, "How could you be so cruel! It's just 100 slaps, it won't kill you! If Caelen's legs are broken, who's going to fix them?"

"Yeah, what's a man supposed to do without legs?" Iselle's gaze landed on Caelen's legs. "I wonder if Don Morven's legs have ever been broken—if he knows what that feels like."

Caelen's struggles faltered.

The man in the suit delivered a vicious slap across Iselle's face. In the silence of the alley, the sharp crack echoed, louder than the chirping of insects.

Caelen never tried to stop it.

Iselle had never hated anyone so much. She bit her lip until it bled, tasting iron and pain.

All she'd done was slap Delphine—and Delphine had asked for it. Yet Caelen would have her slapped a hundred times, putting on a show of self-sacrifice, pretending he'd do anything for her. It was sickening.

She swore, one day she'd return every ounce of this pain.

By the time 50 slaps had landed, Iselle's face was swollen and raw, her skin so tender it bled at the slightest touch. There was hardly a spot left to hit.

She heard the man in the suit ask for instructions, "Don Morven, should we keep going?"

Caelen just stared at her for a long moment, then subtly signaled with his left hand.

It meant to keep going.

Iselle squeezed her eyes shut. The man's hand was raised high, but for a long moment, it didn't fall.

Then a furious shout split the air, "What the hell do you think you're doing? Is there no law anymore?!"

Iselle looked up. Blocking the mouth of the alley wasn't the police, but a Cadillac Limousine.

After Iselle was taken to the hospital, Caelen wasn't allowed in to see her.

A striking woman sat at her bedside.

"You must be Iselle, right?

"Don't be afraid, I'm Asher's mother."

Iselle was a bit surprised.

Elyse Durrell looked young, but her hair was streaked with gray. The puffiness around her eyes made it clear she'd been crying for days.

She took Iselle's hand in hers. "The wedding—honestly, it's all an act for Asher's grandfather.

"Dominic's getting old, a little confused. He can't accept what happened to Asher. He's been trying everything he can think of, and then someone told him that marrying Asher to a girl would bring good luck and drive away the misfortune.

"Once the ceremony is over, I can send you abroad. You're still so young—do you want to keep studying?"

Iselle gently shook her head and squeezed Elyse's hand in return.

"Don't give up so soon. Maybe there's still something I can do for Asher's injuries."

She didn't fully understand the elder woman's words at the time, but she remembered them. The elder woman would help her save Asher, just as she once saved Caelen.

When Iselle was finally discharged and returned home, she found the living room overflowing with gifts.

Delphine beamed. "Iselle, all these are from Don Morven. He's already proposed to me.

"As soon as that useless Durrell boy dies, I'll marry into the Morven family. You'll have to come toast at my wedding."

She sighed dramatically.

"What can I say? We're all human, but the difference between us is huge.

"The Durrell and the Morven families are both fighting over me, each more generous than the last. Meanwhile, you're stuck with a live-in husband, and your family even has to support you. How pitiful."

Iselle couldn't help but feel a flicker of curiosity.

"You're always clinging to Caelen, running to him whenever something happens. I thought you two were inseparable.

"Aren't you mad that he wants to marry me?"

Delphine just shrugged, unconcerned.

"He's just some broke scholarship student. If I wanted another, I could find dozens at any college.

"He's nothing compared to Don Morven. Money alone can't buy what the Morven family has."

Iselle almost laughed; she couldn't wait to see Caelen's reaction when he heard all this—because she'd recorded every word Delphine said.

Later, Iselle visited the orphanage director who'd raised her. The kindly old man greeted her with a broad smile. "Iselle, I heard you're getting married. I don't have much to give you but take this good luck charm. I hope you'll always be safe and happy.

"Oh, and how's your fiancé? Is he good to you?"

Iselle's nose stung, but she gave a genuine smile.

"I haven't met him yet, but he's a good man—a soldier willing to give his life for his country.

"Even if he doesn't love me, I know he'd never treat me badly."

"Doesn't love you?" Caelen's voice came from behind.

He studied Iselle's face, then handed the fruit basket to the director.

"Don't worry, sir. I'm Iselle's fiancé, and I promise I'll take good care of her after we're married."

The director looked a bit confused. "But Iselle said..." He trailed off when he caught sight of Iselle's numb expression. In the end, he just sighed and said nothing more.

Caelen and Iselle left the orphanage together. He handed her a small bottle of pills.

"You said your stomach's been hurting. I had a friend write a prescription for you.

"Take two before bed."

Iselle gripped the bottle tightly. The label said it was just a common antacid.

But she knew—this was Caelen's way of getting her ready to be sent off to the Durrell family.

If Iselle took the pills, she'd slip into unconsciousness, and then, without anyone the wiser, she'd be delivered straight to the Durrell family.

If she refused, Don Morven's men would simply tie her up and force her into the car.

Iselle almost laughed.

Caelen still didn't realize that everything he'd done was pointless.

When she got home, Nolan rushed in, out of breath.

"Bad news—the Durrell family sent word. Mr. Asher was admitted to the ICU last night. The doctors say he's only being kept alive by machines—he could die at any moment.

"They want us to send the bride over first thing tomorrow morning."

Before Iselle could say a word, Caelen blurted out, "Already? That soon?"

He grabbed Iselle's hand, squeezing tighter than ever before. For a moment, he actually looked reluctant to let go.

Delphine turned pale, collapsing onto the couch as she clutched Nolan's sleeve.

"Nolan, I'm scared. What if Mr. Asher dies right after I get there?

"Am I supposed to spend the night with a corpse?"

Nolan's heart ached for her, and he pulled Delphine into his arms. "No, don't worry. I'd never let you go through something like that..."

As he spoke, he glanced at Iselle, but saw nothing in his little sister's eyes—no fear, just cold mockery.

Suddenly, his face burned with shame, and he couldn't meet her gaze.

Iselle went upstairs. In the second-floor sitting room, the custom-made wedding gown was already laid out.

Delphine had never even tried it on. If she had, she would have realized it wasn't her size at all.

Caelen slipped his arms around Iselle from behind, resting his chin lightly on her shoulder.

"Get some rest tonight, Iselle," he murmured. "We’ll have to wake early to send Delphine off."

He couldn’t see her face—but he didn’t need to. He felt the way her shoulders stiffened beneath his touch, the silence that stretched a second too long.

Still, he held her tighter. Strange… for the first time, he didn’t want to let go.

He shook the thought away.

This was all under control. He’d planned everything—every detail, every move.

He'd bring Iselle out when the time was right. Then he'd be her savior. And she’d come running back to him. Grateful. Dependent. Completely his.

Even if he married Delphine in a grand, dazzling wedding, Iselle would never truly leave him.

She couldn’t. She needed him.

That night, Caelen drifted into a restless sleep—the first real dream he’d had in years.

In it, he was back in that alley, bleeding out, helpless. Rain poured from the heavens, and then… her.

Iselle.

Tiny, stubborn, trembling—yet still lifting him onto her back like she could carry the world.

The warmth of the memory wrapped around his heart like a bandage, and something in his chest cracked open.

He jolted awake, sweat clinging to his skin.

Then his phone rang.

"Don Morven," his subordinate's voice was tight, panicked. "We went to Ms. Iselle’s room. She’s gone."

Caelen sat bolt upright. "Gone? She ran?! Who the hell tipped her off?!"

"No one. We asked Mr. Branor. He said… she already left on the Durrells’ wedding car, sir. She volunteered. "

The phone slipped from Caelen’s fingers.

He surged to his feet—only for a searing pain to rip through his legs like fire. He gasped and crumpled to his knees with a sickening thud.

The pain wasn’t normal.