Chapter 2

Three years ago, Gracie met Sebastian for the first time in the study at Brooks Manor.

The sun was bright that day, streaming in through the windows and lighting up the whole room. Sebastian sat behind the desk with the light behind him, so she couldn't really see his face.

"Have a seat," he said, his voice calm.

Gracie sat down across from him, hands on her knees, not sure where to put her eyes.

She wore a faded dress, her hair pulled into a loose ponytail, her face bare of makeup. Compared to everything in the fancy room, she looked like she'd wandered into the wrong place by accident.

Sebastian finally lifted his head and glanced at her. There was no spark of interest in his eyes, no approval, not even dislike. Only indifference, as if he were assessing an item he was about to purchase.

"You know the situation," he said. "My grandpa is gravely ill and wants to see me get married. I need a wife."

Gracie nodded.

"I've looked into your background," he continued. "No parents. Raised by your uncle. Just out of college. No job. No connections. No one to rely on."

His voice was flat, as if he were reading off a résumé, but every word still stung.

"You're a good fit," he said at last with a faint smile. "Soft. Low-profile. You won't cause trouble.

"Three years. After my grandpa passes, you take a payout and leave. I'll cover your living expenses in the meantime, but don't expect anything else."

Gracie clenched her fingers. She knew she had no right to bargain, but she had her pride.

"Mr. Brooks," she said, her voice trembling, "I'll do my part and won't cause you any trouble. I don't need the money."

Sebastian raised an eyebrow, looking a little surprised.

"Whatever," he said, standing up and walking around the desk to stand in front of her. He was tall, about 6 feet, towering over her with an overwhelming presence.

"Gracie, right?" he said, reaching out to lift her chin, forcing her to look up at him. "Remember what you said today. Don't get any ideas. Don't try to step into my life. This is just a deal."

Gracie looked up into his eyes.

They were pretty eyes, sharp and deep, but there was no warmth in them at all.

She nodded.

Everything after that felt unreal. They registered their marriage three days later, and a week after that, there was a wedding.

The wedding was simple, a small gathering at Brooks Manor with only close family present. He remained expressionless the entire time, going through the motions even when he raised a glass.

On their wedding night, he was drunk and had to be helped into the bedroom. Gracie stood by the bed, tense, unsure what she was supposed to do.

He lay on the bed with his eyes closed, murmuring something under his breath.

Gracie leaned in to listen.

He muttered, "Joan."

Gracie froze. It was the first time she'd ever heard that name.

Later, she pieced together the whole story from bits and pieces she heard from the servants.

Joan was the girl Sebastian grew up with. Their families ran in the same circles and were well matched.

Five years ago, the Evans family's business collapsed overnight, and they went bankrupt. Joan's father jumped to his death, and her mother took her abroad. After that, there was no word from them.

Sebastian tried to find her everywhere, but all he got was a breakup note, telling him to forget her.

After that, Sebastian became a whole new person. He worked nonstop, chased money, and grew the company bigger than ever. However, no woman ever got close to him again.

"Mr. Brooks only cares about Ms. Evans," one of the maids let out a sigh. "Mrs. Brooks, try not to take it personally."

Gracie smiled faintly and said she wouldn't.

She knew she shouldn't. She was just there to serve a purpose, nothing more. Whoever he loved had nothing to do with her.

The thing was, people get used to stuff. She got used to this place, to running into him at meals, to hearing noises from the study late at night. She grew used to waiting for him.

Sometimes, when Sebastian came home late, Gracie would sit in the living room and knit, though she didn't know who the sweater was for. She needed something to keep her busy so she wouldn't look foolish waiting there.

Whenever he saw her, he'd just give her a faint nod and head upstairs, never saying a word.

One time, she was burning up with a fever of 103 °F, bedridden, and unable to move.

The maid called Sebastian, but he just said, "Get a doctor," and hung up.

The doctor came, gave her an injection, and left her some medication. She was out of it from the fever, but still managed to say thanks.

In that moment, she felt completely pathetic.

Yet she had no choice. She had nowhere else to go.

Richard had made it clear long ago that once she married, she shouldn't come back again.

She had no friends left. She'd long since lost touch with her college classmates. She didn't have money either. She never used the card Sebastian gave her. She didn't want to owe him.

She felt like she was just drifting around the Brooks family, with nowhere she really belonged.

Then one rainy night, Sebastian was brought home drunk by someone else.

She helped him upstairs, took off his shoes and coat, and tucked him in.

Then he suddenly opened his eyes and looked at her. They weren't cold this time, just confused, like he didn't know where he was.

"Joan?" he called out.

Gracie froze for a second.

"Joan, are you back?" Sebastian seized her hand, gripping it tightly. "Don't go. Please, don't leave me again."

Gracie looked at him, feeling a lump in her throat. She wanted to tell him she wasn't Joan, that she was Gracie, his wife, but she didn't.

She gently patted the back of his hand, soothing him the way one might calm a frightened child. "Okay, I won't leave."

He fell asleep, holding her hand.

She sat by the bed and watched his face until morning, never closing her eyes.