Chapter 1

The day before the wedding, Alex Grant and I were supposed to pick out my wedding dress. But when I got there, he didn't answer no matter how many times I called.

Then his employee, Chloe Summers, posted on Instagram: [Thanks to CEO Grant for the thoughtful birthday gift.]

The photo showed a diamond ring.

That ring was my design, from the materials to every last detail. It was one of a kind. And the hand sliding it onto her finger belonged to my boyfriend. Stunned, I called Alex to get an explanation.

But he still didn't answer, so I had no choice but to call his best friend. A minute later, Alex got on the phone.

Alex said, "It's Chloe's birthday. Pick the dress another day. We lost at truth or dare. It was just friends joking around, and I'll return the ring afterward." He hung up before I could say another word.

When I checked the post again, I saw my boyfriend's comment: [Someone as special as you deserves a special gift.] I laughed. I'd poured my heart into that ring, and now he'd given it to his little fling for her birthday.

I closed Instagram and called the police. "Officer, someone stole my wedding ring."

After I hung up, the bridal shop staff looked awkward as one of them carefully asked, "Ma'am, do you still want to keep trying on dresses?" I looked down at the gown I was wearing and suddenly felt stupid.

Three years. I thought all the love and effort I'd poured into this relationship would finally lead somewhere. Turns out it was just me fooling myself.

I told the assistant, "No, thanks." I left the bridal shop and went straight to the location Chloe had tagged on Instagram. It was nearby, so I arrived in five minutes. Since she'd posted the private room number earlier, I found it quickly.

When I pushed open the door, Alex and his employee Chloe were kissing as punishment for losing a game. Watching how completely into it they were made me sick.

Alex, had you forgotten? You once said I was the only one allowed near you.

Back then, Alex was the Grant family's least favored illegitimate son. His mother died young, and Mr. Grant despised him.

While the Grant family was still standing, whenever his father was upset, Alex would be brutally beaten.

Whenever I saw his injuries, I would take him to the hospital to have them bandaged. He would recover within a few days.

But after the Grant family went bankrupt, his father, unable to bear the creditors' threats, jumped to his death.

Alex was imprisoned in a secret room and tortured for five days as they forced him to reveal the Grant family's assets.

When I heard the news abroad, I booked a flight home that very day and begged my father to save him.

After Alex was rescued, he developed severe depression and claustrophobia. To help him escape that darkness, I stayed constantly by his side for a year. He said only I could ever get close to him. Yet just three years later, he'd forgotten everything.

The room had been noisy a second ago, but the moment they saw me, everything went silent. Alex turned around in confusion, then panicked when he saw me.

"Emily, it's not what it looks like," he said, hurrying to explain. "I know," I answered for him. "You lost a party game again, right?" Alex froze. He clearly hadn't expected me not to cry or make a scene.