Chapter 1

At the welcome-back gala for her first love, the high-society heiress wanted nothing more than to make him smile.

To please him, she forced me―fresh off the operating table―to down an entire glass of hard liquor.

Agonizing pain tore through my lower abdomen.

Yet, surrounded by the drunken cheers of her elite friends, she was too busy feeding her first love mouth-to-mouth.

As darkness pulled me under, I heard her cold, disdainful scoff.

"Don't mind him. He is just a pet songbird I keep around. He can't survive without me anyway."

When I woke up in the hospital, I touched the freshly re-stitched incision on my abdomen.

I took a picture of my medical report, intending to send it to her.

Instead, I found that she had changed her profile picture to a candid shot of her first love's back.

On top of that, she had blocked me for the ninety-ninth time.

This time, I did not beg for forgiveness like I always used to.

Without a second thought, I booked a one-way ticket abroad for three days later.

1

The moment I stepped through the front door, a loud crash shattered the silence.

Uriah Croft stood amidst a sea of sharp ceramic shards.

The second he saw me, his eyes welled with tears.

He grabbed Felicity Davenport's hand, his voice trembling.

"I only dropped it by accident. Tristan looks so furious, like he wants to murder me…"

"He scared me so much."

The object he had shattered was the very first gift Felicity had ever given me.

It was a ceramic figurine the proud heiress had sculpted with her own hands.

Felicity gently stroked Uriah's hair, her gaze tender and protective.

For a second, I could see the ghost of how she used to look at me.

"Don't be scared," she whispered softly. "It's just a cheap toy. I will smash it with you."

She bent down, picked up the ceramic head, and hurled it violently against the floor.

The pieces shattered into dust.

It was broken beyond all repair.

Uriah beamed with delight, clapping his hands and laughing like a spoiled child.

My hand holding my bag trembled slightly.

Years ago, Felicity had looked down at me with fierce, possessive eyes.

"This is the first time I have ever made something like this for a man," she had declared.

"If you ever dare break this doll, I swear I'll cut you off for good!"

Now, she had destroyed it with her own hands.

Then again, she had just gambled with my life at the party just to win Uriah a single smile.

A figurine meant nothing.

I let out a self-mocking laugh, picked up the broom, and began sweeping up the sharp pieces.

Suddenly, Uriah gave a soft cough.

Felicity's voice tightened with instant worry. "Are you okay? Did you hurt your throat from crying?"

She whipped around, glaring at me. "Tristan, it's your fault Uriah cried! Go blend a fresh glass of his favorite mango juice right now."

I froze, staring at her in sheer disbelief.

"Did you forget I'm severely allergic to mangoes?"

Felicity's expression stiffened.

Guilt flashed across her face, and she quickly looked away.

To cover her awkwardness, she turned back to Uriah, flirting with him as if I were invisible.

I swept up the broken shards and tossed them into the trash can, along with the very last shred of lingering attachment in my heart.

Right then, Uriah's voice drifted over, dripping with flirtatious intent.

"I should head out now. Meet me at the hotel tomorrow, the same suite as last night~"

Felicity instinctively glanced in my direction.

She offered an unnatural, rushed excuse. "Uriah and I go way back. We're just catching up on old times. Don't overthink it."

I didn't bother calling out her lie.

I simply pretended not to see the dark hickey on her neck.

Uriah gave Felicity an affectionate wave as he prepared to leave.

My eyes instantly locked onto the braided amulet on his wrist.

Three years ago, Felicity had fallen into a coma after shielding me in a car crash.

I had climbed hundreds of temple steps in the pouring rain, bowing every five paces until my forehead was bruised and bleeding, just to pray for that amulet.

When she woke up, she had wept, pulling me into a desperate hug.

"I will wear this amulet forever," she had promised. "We will never be apart in this life or the next!"

Now, she had casually gifted my devotion to another man.

I didn't stay to watch their sweet farewell.

I turned around and walked into the master bedroom to pack my bags.

The moment I pushed the door open, I realized our framed couple portrait was gone from the center wall.

In its place hung a piece of Uriah's calligraphy.

The handwriting was identical to the custom font Felicity used on her phone.

All those years Uriah had been living abroad, she had never let him go for a single second.

None of that mattered to me anymore.

I pulled out my phone and set a countdown timer for my flight in three days.

Suddenly, a celebrity gossip alert popped up on my screen.

"Billionaire Heiress Makes High-Profile Appearance on Dating Show; Wedding Bells Rumored with Young Master Croft."

In the video clip, Felicity and Uriah shared a passionate, breathless kiss.

No wonder she hadn't asked about my surgery or hospital stay even once.

She had been busy playing the doting lover on camera.

I remembered when paparazzi caught us vacationing together last year.

To protect her reputation, she had blocked my number and given me the cold shoulder for an entire month.

I never imagined that such a private, calculated woman would go on national television just for her golden boy.

Felicity pushed the door open, breaking my train of thought.

Her voice was instantly laced with annoyance.

"You're always so delicate, Tristan."

"A little mango dust won't kill you. Uriah just got back to the country―why do you have to ruin his mood?"