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Tonight was Charlotte Lancaster's birthday and also her engagement party with Ethan Carson, heir to the Carson Group. The elite of Aromport crowded the hall; the air sparkled with chatter and champagne. In a quiet corner of the ballroom stood a woman in a simple white dress, looking starkly out of place amidst the glitter. She was Elena Lancaster, the Lancaster family's adopted daughter, and, in name, Ethan's wife. Three years ago, when Ethan's grandfather Eugene fell gravely ill, a fortune-teller was consulted. He declared that the old man's life could only be prolonged if Ethan married the "right girl," and that girl was Elena, the orphan the Lancasters had taken in. Ethan was forced into the marriage. After the wedding, he never touched Elena. He refused to let her stay at Carson Manor and sent her instead to a villa in the suburbs. Three months ago, Eugene passed away. Ethan filed for divorce immediately. The papers weren't yet finalized, but tonight's engagement party was clearly staged to humiliate Elena publicly. Elena tore the divorce papers in two and threw them at Ethan's face. "Don't wait until tomorrow. I'll sign now. From today on, we're done," she said. The torn pages drifted down, and Ethan's expression darkened. Elena didn't glance at Ethan or Charlotte. She turned and walked out. The red-wine stain on the hem of her white dress looked like a crimson plum, and it was strangely breathtaking. She paused at the doorway and looked back at the guests filling the hall. In a voice above a whisper but clear enough for everyone to hear, she said, "By the way, congratulations on your engagement. Ethan, you ignore me now, but tomorrow, I'll be beyond your reach."