Chapter 1

I came home after a two-week business trip.

As I pushed open the door, my fiancée Giselle’s assistant, Zion, was slamming my late father's pocket watch onto the floor.

I slapped him hard across the face, my voice tight with rage. "Get the hell out."

Giselle rushed out at the sound of the commotion, pulling him behind her and shielding him from me.

“It’s just a stupid pocket watch! So what if Zion broke it?” she snapped, her voice dripping with annoyance. “Your dad's dead. What's the use of keeping it around?”

“Besides,” she added, her eyes cold, “this is my house. If anyone’s getting out, it’s you.”

If that’s how she felt, then this engagement was a joke.

I didn't say another word to the stone-faced Giselle. I just crouched down, reaching for my father’s watch.

The second my fingers brushed against the cool metal, Giselle’s stiletto heel ground into the back of my hand.

A sharp, stabbing pain shot through me.

I looked up at her, my mind reeling in disbelief.

Her expression was frigid.

"Apologize to Zion. He’s my assistant. What gives you the right to touch him?"

When I didn’t move, she pressed down harder.

Blood was starting to seep from the wound on my hand, but it was nothing compared to the agony crushing my heart.

“Giselle!” I roared, my voice raw with pain. “What about me? I’m your fiancé! Don’t you know how much this watch means to me?”

For a fleeting moment, a flicker of something―maybe guilt―crossed her face as my voice trembled.

But it vanished as quickly as it appeared.

“That’s no excuse to hit him,” she said, her face hardening again.

“Apologize, Declan! Don’t make me say it a third time!”

A bitter, self-mocking smile twisted my lips.

"Giselle, are our seven years together worth less than a stranger?"

"Don't give me that crap! You..."

Before she could finish, Zion, the picture of innocence, cut her off.

"It’s okay, Ms. Thorne. Please don’t fight with Director Vance because of me."

"It was just a slap. I’m fine."

His words only made Giselle’s expression darken further, but her voice softened as she turned to comfort him.

"This isn't your fault. Be good."

I stared at the broken watch on the floor, a profound exhaustion washing over me.

Seven years together, and I meant less to her than a boy she’d known for a fraction of that time.

Seeing my silence, Giselle kicked my side.

"Still acting like a pathetic dog after all these years," she sneered.

I picked up the watch, got to my feet, and started walking toward the door.

“Declan! Where are you going? It’s almost time to make dinner!”

Over the years, I’d taken cooking classes just so she could eat well.

But in her eyes, none of it mattered.

I stopped in my tracks and let out a soft laugh.

"What's the matter? With all your family's money, you can't afford to hire a cook?"

My words hung in the air, leaving Giselle completely stunned.

In all our time together, I had always been the one to bend, to obey.

This was the first time I had ever talked back to her.

"Declan, have you lost your mind?" she shrieked, her face contorted with rage.

Before I could answer, Zion spoke up, his voice dripping with false sympathy.

“Ms. Thorne, I think I made Director Vance angry. I should probably leave so you two can talk.”

Giselle grabbed his hand, her voice laced with affection. “Leave? Where would you go? I promised your brother I’d take care of you. You’re staying right here.”

Zion’s brother was Jared Hayes, Giselle's unforgettable first love.

He died of cancer two years ago.

After his death, Giselle brought his newly adult brother, Zion, into our home, claiming Jared had asked her to look after him.

The day he moved in, Zion started sharing the master bedroom with Giselle.

For two years, I’d been naive enough to believe she saw him as a little brother.

But I couldn’t lie to myself anymore.

With that thought, I looked at Giselle, my face a mask of indifference.

"You're right. He doesn't have to go. I'll be the one to move out."

Giselle let out a scornful laugh.

"Declan, are you really trying to run away from home again? How many times have we played this game? When will you accept reality?"

"In the end, you’ll just come crawling back like a dog, begging me to take you back."

Hearing her venomous words, I felt nothing. I simply grabbed my suitcase from the entryway and walked out.