Chapter 1

On the third anniversary of our engagement, I caught my fiancé Damien Foster tearing off a young influencer's clothes and taking her.

After discovering me, he simply tossed over a pink diamond.

"Mind your own business. You'll still be Mrs. Foster."

Later, he forced me to raise his mistress's child, threatening me with my brother's future.

I smiled and swallowed the humiliation.

Until the night before the wedding, when my bridal car went off a cliff into the ocean and he received my final message: "May we never meet again, in this life or whatever comes after."

Damien didn't know that the "body" sinking to the ocean floor wasn't actually me.

He knew even less that three months later, I would marry his sworn enemy.

Selena's POV

I stood in the entrance hall of the Foster family estate, holding freshly packed hot pasta from an upscale Italian restaurant.

Today marked the third anniversary of my engagement to Damien.

It was also the seventh consecutive day Damien had been working late.

Since it was late at night, the servants had all gone to bed. I tiptoed upstairs, wanting to surprise the man in his study.

The study door was slightly ajar, casting an ambiguous strip of yellow light.

Just as I was about to push the door open, a coquettish moan came from inside.

"Damien, slow down... don't tear it, this is the evening gown Selena just ordered."

My feet rooted to the spot.

Through that crack, I saw Damien with his back to the door, standing beside a leather executive chair.

This billionaire who prided himself on being aloof and untouchable was now gripping a woman's waist, his head buried in her neck.

That woman was Violet Shaw, a social media influencer Damien had recently promoted to fame.

And the light blue haute couture silk evening gown she wore was the engagement dress I had personally designed half a month ago.

"This dress looks perfect on you."

Damien's voice was low and magnetic, carrying an urgency and desire I had never heard before.

I felt my blood freeze.

The takeout box in my hand crashed heavily onto the carpet with a dull thud.

Tomato sauce spilled out, pooling like thick, sticky blood.

The movements inside the study stopped abruptly.

Damien pushed Violet away and turned his head.

His eyes flashed with momentary panic before quickly regaining their composure, even showing a trace of displeasure at being interrupted.

"Why didn't you knock?"

He walked out while straightening his slightly disheveled collar, his tone flat.

Violet hid behind him, clutching the torn evening gown, looking like a frightened doe.

I looked at him, my lips trembling. "Damien, today is our third anniversary."

Damien glanced at his watch, his brow furrowing slightly. "I forgot. Selena, this was just an accident. Violet is new to the industry, she doesn't know anything. I'm just mentoring her."

"Mentoring her in bed?" My voice sharpened for an instant, then filled with bitter sorrow.

Damien's gaze turned cold.

"Selena, don't be so harsh. I've given you the title of fiancée. As for the rest, don't stick your nose where it doesn't belong."

He walked past me, heading straight for the elevator with Violet.

As they brushed by, Violet turned back and flashed me a victor's smile.

That night, I sat on the cold floor, staring at that pool of dried soup.

I had always thought Damien was cold.

Turns out, he was just cold toward me.

The next morning, I woke up frozen on the couch.

Damien hadn't come home all night.

My phone screen lit up with a message from Violet.

A photo.

In the photo, Damien was sleeping on white pillows, his profile sharp and handsome, his expression relaxed.

It was a side of him I had never seen-the relaxed look of him sleeping.

"Selena, Damien is exhausted and still hasn't woken up. I'm afraid today's wedding dress fitting will have to be postponed."

I turned off my phone and got up like a puppet on strings to wash up and put on makeup.

I couldn't fall apart.

My family's company was counting on Damien's investment.

At ten o'clock, I stood alone in the bridal boutique in front of a huge floor-to-ceiling mirror.

The woman in the mirror wore a pure white wedding dress, breathtakingly beautiful, yet her eyes were lifeless.

"Miss Selena, Mr. Foster has commissioned a thousand wedding dresses for you. This is just the first one. Are you satisfied?" the clerk asked carefully.

A thousand dresses.

The world said Damien loved me to the bone, commissioning enough wedding dresses to fill a mountain.

But only I knew that of those thousand dresses, not one had Damien personally accompanied me to choose.

"I won't be trying any more," I said flatly. "Send them all back."

"But..."

Just then, the sound of an engine came from outside.

Damien got out of the car and strode in.

He had changed clothes and looked composed, carrying an exquisite jewelry box in his hand.

"Sorry, I had a conference call with overseas partners this morning. It ran late."

He walked over and embraced me from behind, placing a massive pink diamond necklace around my neck.

"This is 'Heart of True Love,' the only one in the world. Consider it compensation."

I looked at the man in the mirror whose expression seemed so tender.

If not for that photo, I might have believed in his devotion again.

"Damien, does Violet have one too?"

Damien's hands froze, his gaze deepening. "Selena, I told you not to mention her."

"She sent me a photo last night." I turned around, looking directly at him. "Damien, you buy me diamonds while sleeping with another woman. Aren't you tired?"

Damien's patience seemed to run out.

He released his hands, saying coldly, "Selena, your family's company had a $300 million shortfall last month. I covered it."

It was a threat.

I was left speechless.

He always knew exactly where to step on my pain points, leaving me unable to live or die.

"Choose whichever wedding dress you like. The wedding proceeds as planned."

Damien took a phone call and left in a hurry.

He didn't even notice my nails digging deep into my palms, drawing tiny spots of blood.

I looked at the pink diamond called "True Love" in the mirror.

It was too heavy.

So heavy I couldn't breathe.