Chapter 1
At a client dinner, Lucas Sterling's ex, Sandra Young, drank herself sick just to land the contract.
I couldn't help feeling bad for her. But then I saw Lucas tilted her face up, his eyes full of mockery and resentment. "Sandra, beg me if you want the contract," he said.
Lucas was a rising star in the business world, known as a gentleman.
Yet that night, for the first time, he lost his cool in front of everyone.
*****
An hour earlier, Sandra stopped me in the restroom.
She spoke with confidence and pride. "What if I say your fiancé will leave with me tonight? Do you believe that?"
Of course I didn't.
Sandra had once crushed Lucas's pride, while I had stood by him for seven years, through every hardship, as his closest friend and lover.
I didn't take her provocation seriously at all.
But what happened in front of me made me hesitate.
At the same time, I heard the voices of old business partners around me.
"Lucas hasn't lost control like this in years."
"Ever since Sandra married someone else seven years ago, Lucas turned into nothing but a work machine. Even when the company went public, he barely showed emotion."
"What did Sandra say back then when Lucas begged her not to leave? Oh right, she said her game with a poor guy was over."
"And now Lucas is worth billions. Sandra must regret it by now."
I listened to their words, and my whole body went stiff.
I stared straight at Lucas and Sandra not far away.
"Mr. Sterling, if I beg you, you'll sign this deal, won't you?" Sandra relaxed her tight brows and pulled out a bitter smile.
Sweat slid down her perfect face, wetting strands of hair that clung to Lucas's wrist.
Lucas had always been a neat freak. But he didn't let go right away.
He stayed silent, while Sandra lowered herself to beg.
Suddenly, her tears started to fall. One after another, like beads snapping off a string, making her look pitiful and fragile.
She clung to the leg of his pants, the corners of her mouth lifting in a stubborn smile.
"Mr. Sterling, is this enough? If you want more, just tell me," she said.
Lucas's eyes flickered, and his lips trembled a little.
I saw everything clearly.
Our business partners kept whispering.
"Who would've thought the proud Ms. Young could end up like this?"
"Lucas finally got his revenge. But why does he look so unhappy?"
"I thought he had forgotten Sandra long ago. Guess not..."
"He only looks human in front of Sandra."
It was true. Only in front of Sandra did Lucas seem like a man with real feelings.
With me, he was always rational, decisive, and steady. He never lost control because of emotions.
He treated me so well. He would carefully choose the best clothes, bags, and shoes for me.
He was endlessly gentle. Every hand he held, every kiss he gave, he never once went against my will.
He said I deserved the best version of him, so from the moment we met, he had never raised his voice at me.
But now, his eyes were bloodshot as he stared at Sandra. His gaze held emotions too tangled even for him to notice.
Even while humiliating her, he never once looked away.
I couldn't help but wonder if their reunion after seven years meant the end of me and him.
Lucas shoved Sandra's chin aside.
When she lowered her head, I saw a dull, faded necklace fall from her neck.
It was a common design, cheap at first glance.
But at that moment, Lucas froze.
I had seen that same necklace before, in a photo inside his wallet.
The photo was water-damaged, the girl's face blurry, but she was wearing that necklace.
I once asked Lucas who the girl was.
He told me she was his enemy—someone who haunted him, someone who kept his heart twisted tight.
But now, I knew she wasn't his enemy. She was his old flame.
Lucas didn't press Sandra any further.
He stood up, restless, and walked over to me.
He turned to my assistant, who was standing next to me. "Give her the deal."
My assistant caught on quickly and handed the prepared contract to Sandra.
Sandra took it, but her eyes showed no joy.
Instead, a hint of bitterness crept in.
That bitter gaze, mixed with her fragile beauty, gave her a tragic kind of grace.