Chapter 1

1.

Grayson Sterling, the richest man in the world, was a notorious workaholic. In the five years she had been married to him, Claire had been abandoned for his work countless times.

The first time, it was her birthday. She had meticulously booked a table three months in advance at a Michelin-starred restaurant in Manhattan. But he suddenly flew to London for an acquisition deal, leaving her to wait from daylight until the dead of night.

The second time, she was in a car accident. She was in the emergency room, needing a family member to sign the consent form for surgery. Holding on by a thread, she texted him, only to receive a single, ice-cold reply: "I'm in a very important meeting. Have Baker handle it for you."

The third time, her father was on his deathbed. In his hospital room, her father wanted to see Grayson one last time. But he was busy with a multi-billion-dollar contract signing and never showed up. As she held her father's cooling hand, the only thing she heard on the other end of the line was the automated voicemail message.

Again and again, she finally understood. In Grayson's heart, nothing and no one could ever compare to his business empire.

She told herself this was the price of a strategic marriage between two powerful families. He had been clear from the very beginning that he would never love her. But at least, she thought, he didn't love anyone else.

But just as she was about to grow accustomed to this cold despair, a shocking piece of gossip exploded across the Upper East Side social scene.

Grayson Sterling, the man who was famously indifferent to women and had eyes only for his work, was hiding a girl and spoiling her to the core.

Rumor had it that he abandoned a multi-billion-dollar deal on the verge of signing just to go skiing with this girl in Aspen.

Rumor had it that he canceled all his meetings for an entire week just to help her care for a sick kitten.

Rumor had it that he let the girl doodle on his priceless contracts and even ended a meeting with a partner because she simply said, "I'm bored."

When Claire heard these rumors, her first reaction was disbelief.

How could that be possible? This was Grayson―a man who valued time more than life itself, a man so rational he was almost cruel.

She used all her connections and savings to secretly investigate the girl.

However, Grayson had protected the girl so well she was practically invisible.

After expending immense effort and a fortune, all Claire managed to get was a single, blurry photo of the girl's side profile, taken from a distance.

In the photo, the girl looked young and sweet, held carefully in Grayson's arms. The protective way he held her was something Claire had never experienced in their five years of marriage.

That very afternoon, just after she received the photo, she left the house, her mind in turmoil. As she reached the curb, a black car shot toward her, completely out of control.

Claire didn't even see the person inside. She just felt her body fly into the air, then slam back down onto the pavement. An agony ripped through her entire body as darkness quickly consumed her.

She woke up to the sharp, stinging smell of disinfectant in a hospital.

The first thing she saw was the emotionless face of Grayson's chief secretary.

"Mrs. Sterling, you're awake." The secretary's voice was as flat as if she were reading a memo. "Mr. Sterling asked me to relay a message―stop digging. Destroy everything you have. This is the first and last warning."

Claire's eyes flew open, the pain in her chest nearly suffocating her.

It was him?

It was really him?

Just because she had found a single photo of that girl's face, he was willing to stage a car crash to warn her?

She couldn't believe it, but she had to.

The man she had loved for so many years, the man she thought was only passionate about his work, could do something so insane and cruel for another woman.

She thought she would never get to see the girl's true face.

But a week later, an unexpected call came.

It was from her personal lawyer, Howard.

"Mrs. Sterling, I just received a call. A store reported a young woman causing a disturbance, damaging property, and refusing to leave after a conflict with an employee. She told the police at the scene that she was connected to Mr. Sterling and gave them my office number. I thought you might want to know."

Claire's mind went blank.

She rushed to the store.

The moment she walked in, she saw a very young-looking girl in an exquisite dress, sitting with her legs crossed in a corner chair, her voice loud enough to fill the entire shop: "Have you reached him yet or not? I want to see Grayson! Can't you people be more efficient?"

A police officer stood by, his expression impassive. "Ma'am, I need you to step outside. The store owner said they won't press charges if you're willing to pay for the damages."

"Pay for what?" the girl stood up indignantly. "How much can that stupid glass case be worth? It's Grayson's fault for not texting me back that I'm in a bad mood. Just get him here now!"

Just as she finished speaking, there was a commotion at the entrance.

A black sedan pulled up, and Grayson stepped out, dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit, his expression calm. His chiseled, handsome face and the aura of complete control he exuded instantly silenced the entire store.

He saw Claire first, and his brow immediately furrowed. His tone was ice-cold. "What are you doing here?"

Claire's throat tightened. "Howard notified me," she answered dryly.

Grayson's face grew even colder. "This has nothing to do with you. Go home."

With that, he didn't look at her again, walking straight toward the girl who had caused the scene.

What happened next made the blood in Claire's veins freeze solid.

She watched as the eternally aloof, cold-as-ice Grayson actually knelt down in front of the girl. He looked up at her, his voice filled with a gentle indulgence she had never heard before, even tinged with a careful, pleasing tone.

"Hey, what's wrong? Who upset you?"

Amber's eyes reddened, her sense of grievance completely unjustified. "Who else but you! You didn't answer my texts all day! I waited all afternoon! I got so mad I threw a fit in this store, and can you believe it? The clerk called the cops on me!"

The reason was so absurd that everyone around exchanged glances.

But Grayson didn't show a hint of anger. Instead, he let out a soft chuckle. He wrapped his arm around Amber's shoulder, his tone impossibly indulgent. "Alright, my fault. Tell me how to make it up to you. Anything you want."

He then turned to the police officer, his voice calm but firm. "She's with me. I'll cover the store's losses, double the amount. Have your manager bring the paperwork, I'll sign it."

An assistant quickly stepped forward to explain to Amber, "Miss Nolan, you've misunderstood. Mr. Sterling had a small accident this morning. He injured his arm and was at the emergency room getting it treated. His phone died. That's why he couldn't reply. Please don't be angry."

Hearing this, Amber finally grew anxious. She grabbed Grayson's arm and saw the white gauze peeking from under his suit sleeve.

Tears immediately streamed down her face. "You're hurt? Why didn't you say so?"

But Grayson just reached out and wiped her tears away. "I promised I'd always reply instantly. I didn't, so it's my problem. Whatever punishment you have in mind, I'll take it."

Amber cried even harder, burying her face in his chest. "You don't have to... You really don't have to be this nice to me..."

Grayson held her tightly, his voice as gentle as if he were soothing a child. "Because you're the most important person to me. Now tell me, what do you want?"

Amber's tears turned to a smile. Her eyes darted around, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder as she purred, "Then carry me out of here. Just like this. Carry me all the way out."

The assistant's face changed, and he was about to speak, but Grayson silenced him with a raised hand.

He looked at her, his eyes full of adoration. "Now?"

"Now."

"Okay." Without a moment's hesitation, right there, in front of everyone, Grayson swept her up. One arm secured her waist, the other firmly supported her back, letting her cling to him. She wrapped her arms around his neck like a proud little princess.

And the business titan, the emperor of industry, willingly carried his girl, step by step, through the store toward the exit. There wasn't a trace of impatience on his face, only complete and utter indulgence.

The store was terrifyingly silent.

Only Claire, clutching her mouth, turned and walked out the door.

She leaned against a lamppost on the street, tears streaming silently down her face.

If she hadn't seen it with her own eyes, she would have never believed that Grayson could be so gentle.