Everyone in New York knew one thing: I was hopelessly in love with Samuel Gibson—the devoted believer, the man I thought was destined to be mine.

I polished a prayer-bead bracelet by hand and gave it to him. He only frowned, but finally agreed to marry me. I thought it was a sign of love.

The night I went to tattoo his name on my lower back, I heard his voice through the wall.

"Samuel, are you serious about marrying Amanda? Even if you don't, she'll still chase you. Why break your promise for her?"

He fingered the beads I had made and said flatly, "Our families arranged the engagement when we were kids. And that's the only reason I'm marrying her."

"Oh? So you'd marry just anyone, as long as she's the one they picked?"

Samuel stood up with an icy expression. His words were laced with contempt.

"Of course. And I'm doing myself a favor. She's overly clingy—marrying her and keeping her confined at home might finally bring some peace."

My heart lurched, and I trembled slightly, causing the tattoo to go slightly off.

As I gently touched the word "Gibson," a bitter smile appeared on my face. "Perfect timing. Change the first word to Theo."

However, on the wedding day, Samuel stopped me with a stern expression.

"Amanda Harlan, what are you doing? I'm ready to marry you, yet you went after my younger brother? Enough with your hard-to-get tricks. I have no interest in wasting my time."

Surprised, I responded, "Samuel, I think you've got it wrong. My family did arrange a match with a Gibson, but no one ever said it had to be you."

***

"Mr. Gibson, I'm impressed," a young man teased, shooting Samuel a conspiratorial wink.

"You marry such a stunning woman just to keep her confined? If Amanda finds out, she'll make a huge scene."

Samuel merely furrowed his brow while spinning a prayer bead, concealing the disgust in his eyes.

"That'd be great. If it escalates, I'll have a valid reason to end the engagement with her. Besides, everyone in New York knows how deeply she's infatuated with me, willing to stoop that low. My concern is she won't make a fuss."

In the adjacent room, sprawled on a chair, when I heard the words "stoop that low," my heart sank.

I'd always known that Samuel didn't like me, yet I believed that my love and care could win him over. I assumed, beneath that cold, indifferent facade, he had a warm heart.

However, I never imagined that the man who had agreed to marry me only the day before had been scheming to make me cancel the engagement.

A sudden sharp pain flared up from the tattoo on my lower back, causing me to shiver without meaning to.

The tattoo artist gasped, eyeing me hesitantly. "Ms. Harlan, the letters are crooked."

"Gibson..." My hand reached back to touch the words. Samuel's name lingered on my tongue, yet I couldn't bring myself to say it.

Samuel's scornful stare reappeared in my mind. I shut my eyes before turning back to the artist with a bitter smile.

"Finish it with 'Theo' then. I'm not letting this pain be for nothing just because of one slip."

To my surprise, I was completely calm as I stepped outside.

"Samuel, what are you doing here? Are you here to see me?"

He instinctively moved a step back to create some space between us, then frowned and replied, "No."

"Ms. Harlan, you might not know this, but our once unwavering believer broke his vow because of you—he got a tattoo to serve as a constant reminder."

"A reminder of what?" I asked without thinking. The two people in front quickly exchanged knowing glances.

"Samuel, it appears she even knows your schedule. She's absolutely shameless—and so clingy."

Samuel's face darkened as he delivered a stern warning. "That's not your concern. Stop bothering me about it.

"By the way, what tattoo did you get? Just so you know—if it's something ridiculous, I'll call off the engagement."

"It's not ridiculous," I replied, lowering my gaze in disappointment. But I couldn't help testing his reaction.

"I was thinking of getting your name tattooed."

Samuel's response broke my heart. He walked past me and said coldly, "Disgusting."

I was unsure if he meant the tattoo or my feelings for him.

"Mr. Gibson, right? You're going to get 'Mandy Hachett' tattooed, right?" The tattoo artist emerged, holding a booklet.

"Yes!" Samuel replied without hesitation. But he instantly realized that I was there and looked over at me.

I didn't make a scene and was quite calm.

He was briefly surprised, then turned and entered the room. I noticed the disappointment flashing across his eyes.

Maybe that was because he didn't get a reason to call off the engagement.

I tilted my head back sorrowfully, trying to hold back my tears.

Samuel and I had grown up together. He was once exceptionally kind to me. Then I fell in love with him, but he fell for Mandy.

When he declared he was dedicating himself to a monastic life, the entire city was buzzing with gossip. People speculated that he was simply tired of me, so he decided to embrace a life of devotion.

But he was just trying to delay our wedding by three years while Mandy was overseas for medical treatment. Despite all the rumors and slander, he never once stood up to defend me.

As the three years were nearly up, Samuel, who had agreed to marry me, shattered my hopes with the harsh truth.

However, none of it mattered anymore. I wouldn't give him another chance to hurt me.

"Don't run around. My mother wants us to have dinner at their place tonight," Samuel said, his voice as indifferent as ever.

But I no longer felt excited and declined. "I'm not going."

"What are you fussing about again, Amanda?"

Samuel's face tightened into a frown at my question.

He always seemed to have a limitless reserve of anger when he was around me. But with Mandy, he was perpetually full of kindness.

I remember seeing Samuel standing outside her building on New Year's Eve. He kept his overwhelming feelings to himself, allowing her to leave for her overseas treatment without any added burden.

He was unaware that I was also there that night, standing in the same snow, feeling heartache for him the whole time.

Now, when I reflect on it, it seems like it was all just a naive fantasy—a mere jest.

"I'm not trying to be fussy. I simply don't want to go," I explained, my hands tightly clenched as I maintained my composure.

Samuel's friend sneered right away.

"Amanda, quit the charade. Everyone knows you're eager to marry into the Gibson family. Now that you have a real opportunity, you're turning it down. Could it be that you're playing hard to get?"

Samuel didn't deny it, and his glance implied he agreed with me.

"My mom wants to talk to you about the wedding plans. If you'd rather not go, that's your choice."

Ultimately, I still found myself getting into the car bound for the Gibson's residence. The scornful stares from behind felt almost like solid objects, causing me to lower my head awkwardly.

I had been pursuing Samuel for way too long. Now, even my decision to refuse was seen differently by them.

All I wanted was to tell Maria Gibson directly that I intended to end the engagement with him.

When we walked through the door, Samuel went upstairs without acknowledging me. I was awkwardly welcomed by Mrs. Gibson.

"Amanda, Samuel may seem distant, but he has a warm heart. Don't let it bother you."

For years, I had believed those words, but now I understood—Samuel's heart was equally cold.

"Maria, I need to talk to you about something..."

She interrupted me gently, "Let's chat after dinner, dear. Please go and get Samuel to come down for the meal."

I realized Maria was attempting to give us an opportunity to be alone.

The families were pleased with the arrangement of the childhood engagement, but Samuel dismissed it with disdain.

I quietly made my way upstairs. Samuel's door was partially open, and I heard a muffled gasp—reminiscent of a snake's tongue, sticky and cold, yet filled with intense yearning.

"Mandy... I miss you so much..."

Peering through the gap in the door, I saw him kneeling in front of a marble statue, his posture reminiscent of his usual prayerful devotion. However, his hands betrayed a different intent.

With a soft moan, he kissed the foot of the statue, which bore Mandy's name.

I quickly covered my mouth to suppress my shock.

In that instant, the revered figure atop the pedestal had descended. But it wasn't for me, his fiancée.

"Just one week remains, and the three-year wait will finally be over. Mandy, I'm eagerly awaiting your return."

As I turned my head, I realized tears were silently cascading down my cheeks.

My love for Samuel had drained all my emotions, leaving even my tears without sound.

Unable to bear it any longer, I went downstairs to speak with Maria.

"Maria, I want to end my engagement with Samuel."

I cut right to the chase. Maria seemed taken aback and grasped my hand.

"Dear, did Samuel upset you? I'll make sure he learns his lesson. Let's not discuss calling off the engagement anymore. I don't want either of you to regret it."

I shook my head and played the recording I had just captured at the door. As the gentle, persistent calls of "Mandy" echoed, I closed my eyes with a wry smile.

"Maria, do you really believe there's still any chance for us?"

Maria stopped in her tracks, her eyes flashing with anger. But she attempted to reason with me.

"Amanda, our families have a marriage pact. This is not something trivial. Samuel is just confused right now. Plus, he has already agreed to marry you, showing that he wants to make it work."

No. Marrying me was merely a means to imprison me. To him, I wasn't even worth as much as a sow.

Yet, I couldn't bring myself to voice these thoughts in front of Maria.

I broke down in tears and begged, "Maria, I truly don't want to marry Samuel. If marrying into the Gibson family is inevitable, I'd marry someone else."

The dinner was never served. Overcome by emotions, I passed out. Through my haze, I caught Samuel's annoyed tone.

He muttered, "such bad luck."

He wouldn't let the family doctor check on me.

"She's always up to her antics, just pretending. Don't let her mess up the Gibson's residence."

As I gradually regained consciousness, Maria sighed deeply and consented to my request.

"Amanda, I genuinely hoped you would become my daughter-in-law. Theo will return in three days—try to spend some time with him."

Maria clung to the hope of us making amends, which is why she hadn't informed Samuel about the engagement being called off.

When it was time to try on wedding dresses, he insisted on taking me to the bridal shop.

"Amanda, my patience is wearing thin. If you continue with this charade, we'll end the engagement.

"You went to great lengths to marry me, but now that it's done, you couldn't care less about the wedding. Amanda, how can you be so petty?"

He pushed me onto the couch. His words caused me to tremble, and a long-buried anger slowly rose within me.

I understood then that without the lens of love, even the smell of incense on Samuel had become intolerable—let alone his insults.

"Samuel, how long have we known each other?" I asked, standing up and trying to appear composed.

"What do you mean?"

He entwined his fingers around a strand of prayer beads. The distinct clinking noise made it clear they weren't the ones I had given him. At that moment, I found the answer.

Today was the 20th anniversary of when we first met, but only I seemed to recall it. I feared he had long since forgotten the emotions we once shared.

The person who had vowed to protect me forever had turned into the one who betrayed me.

The wedding dress was stunning and fit flawlessly, yet Samuel was anything but pleased. "Make the waist smaller."

"But, Ms. Harlan, it's already a perfect fit..." The designer looked at me, unsure.

Samuel, however, grabbed a needle and pointed it at my waist with a stern command. "Reduce it by this much."

As the needle pricked my skin, a sharp pain accompanied by the sound of heartbreak filled the air.

I bit my lip. After enduring the pain, I weakly said, "Do as he says."

Exhausted, I began removing the wedding dress, not wanting to argue any longer or try on dresses for others' sake.

Behind a curtain, I could hear Samuel describing the necessary alterations, shaping it to resemble the image of Mandy I remembered.

I should have expected that Samuel would never personally accompany me to try on wedding dresses.

"Sam, I'm back."

I had just pulled back the fitting room curtain when I heard a voice that was both recognizable and surprising.

In this world, Mandy was likely the only one who could call Samuel "Sam" in that particular way.

I hadn't anticipated her early return to the country.

Seeing Samuel move forward with excitement, I averted my gaze and gestured to the sales assistant to help me remove the wedding dress.

I intended to quietly slip it off when Mandy suddenly addressed me. "Amanda, what are you doing here? What's happening with you two?"

Mandy stared at me in the wedding dress, her complexion going pale. She gave Samuel a pitiful look.

It was the first time I'd seen Samuel look so unsettled—almost like an innocent boy, completely different from the cold, detached man I usually knew him to be.

"Mandy, believe me. There's nothing going on between us!"

Samuel's desperate denial left me completely stunned.

"We..." I had just begun to speak when Samuel abruptly interrupted me.

"Amanda, there's nothing going on between us."

He repeated it with a stern look, his eyes icy and full of caution. But revealing anything about him was never my plan.

"Yeah, there's nothing between us. I just felt like trying on a wedding dress out of the blue. I'll be on my way now, so I won't disturb you guys from catching up."

As I walked by, Samuel visibly exhaled with relief, his demeanor toward me slightly relaxing.

However, Mandy couldn't resist saying, "Sam, I don't want the first woman you see in a wedding dress to be someone else."

Right after she spoke, my hair was yanked. My scalp throbbed with pain, but I was too numb to care.

The pristine white wedding dress was pulled off me in front of everyone. I cried and shouted, but no one seemed to care.

Samuel didn't even look my way. The instant Mandy showed up, she was all he focused on.

Mandy smiled and kissed him. "Sam, I knew you'd always treat me well."

In a panic, I searched for something to cover myself, witnessing their kiss right in front of me, feeling as though my heart had split in two.

Yet, they weren't finished with me.

That night, Samuel, drunk, barged into my house with a crowd of people.

I heard strange noises coming from the living room. My heart pounded, but I forced myself to look.

The moment I stepped out, several men grabbed me and shoved me toward Samuel. He was slumped on the couch, clothes wrinkled, face flushed, eyes glassy—yet his lips clearly called one name.

"Mandy... Mandy..."

My stomach twisted.

In the past, whenever people pushed me to drink, he always used "religious devotion" as his excuse and left me alone at the table. But tonight, for Mandy, he drank himself into oblivion.

Why? Why could he be gentle and disciplined with her, yet cruel and careless with me? Was it because I loved him that he thought he could trample me?

"What do you want, Samuel?" I demanded, struggling.

CRACK.

My arm broke under the force. The pain was blinding. Tears streamed down my face.

But Samuel just stared at me coldly, muttering, "I'm ruined... Mandy won't want me now. And it's all because of you! Without those rumors, she never would've rejected me!"

He nodded, and the men behind him reached for me.

"No—Samuel, you can't do this!" I cried.

For a moment, hesitation flickered in his eyes. Then a phone rang. He froze, listened, and his expression hardened again.

"Mandy, look. I told you—I don't care about Amanda."

In the video, her smug disdain was clear to see.

Her voice came through the speaker, low and poisonous. "Is that it? Just undressing her? Don't insult me, Sam. I've heard rumors about you two for years. Why should I believe you?"

Panic overtook him. He barked at the men, "Do it. Prove there's nothing between us."

Hands clawed at me. My cries were ignored. That night, countless photos were taken of me—my humiliation used as his proof of loyalty to her.

When he sobered up, he didn't apologize. He didn't even flinch. He looked at me, sneered, and said, "I was drunk. Just don't tell my mother, and I'll still marry you."

I almost shattered. The rage, the helplessness, the shame—my fists bled from how hard I clenched them, but I refused to break in front of him.

After isolating myself at home for several days, I decided to go to the airport to meet Theo Gibson when he returned to the country.

While waiting, a familiar voice reached my ears. "Sam, are you really going to travel with me? Isn't your wedding soon?"

I turned. Samuel stood there, carrying Mandy's bag like her servant.

He smirked. "What's a wedding compared to being with you? You're the only one I've ever wanted. Marrying anyone else means nothing."

Mandy's eyes glittered with triumph as she looked at me. "Then Ms. Harlan is quite unfortunate. If you leave with me, how will she manage the wedding on her own?"

"She's been eager to marry into the Gibson family, after all. This is exactly what she deserves."

She gasped theatrically. "Oh, Ms. Harlan, you're here?"

Samuel spun around, still flustered. Then, like always, he shielded Mandy behind him and scolded me.

"Amanda, if you have something to say, say it to me. Don't blame her. Am I wrong? You want to marry into the Gibson family, don't you?"

"I do." I answered softly.

Relief flashed across his face. "Then behave, and I'll make sure you're taken care of—"

I cut him off, my voice steady and cold. "But it's not you I'm planning to marry."

Just then, Maria’s call came through. Her words sliced the air:

"Samuel, Amanda already called off the engagement. By chance, Theo just returned. I think it's time to let them see if they can make it work."

I saw Samuel's face collapse in disbelief.

"What?"