Chapter 1 

Chapter 1 

Standing in front of the mirror, Stephanie Giovanni studied her reflection, her lips curling into a soft smile. 

“Stunning,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. 

The gown hugged her slender waist, flowing into a skirt that reminded her of something straight out of a fairytale. 

Her face, still free of makeup, looked just as delicate and enchanting in the natural light. 

The shop manager was adjusting the pleats on the gown. 

She couldn’t resist commenting, “Why isn’t Mr. Ashford here with you? Men and women, they’ve got different tastes, you 

know.” 

A faint smile tugged at the corner of Stephanie’s lips. She glanced at the manager with a shrug. “You know men. Busy with work. Can’t get away.” 

Just then, her phone vibrated on the nearby counter. Stephanie glanced at the caller ID before answering, “Ella” 

On the other end, Ella Turner’s voice came through quickly, almost breathless. “Stefi, I saw Olivia and Christ 

The moment she heard those names, Stephanie’s fingers tightened around the phone, her knuckles going white. 

The smile that had lingered on her face slowly faded, replaced by a chill in her eyes. 

Chris Ashford–her fiancé–was just a week away from marrying her. 

And Olivia Hart, just hearing her name disgusted Stephanie. 

Stephanie looked over at the shop manager, who immediately nodded in understanding. 

With a silent gesture, the manager ushered the staff out of the room. 

Once the room was empty, Stephanie lowered her gaze to her perfectly manicured nails. “Where did you see them?” she asked casually. 

Ella’s voice cracked with urgency. “At the hospital. In the obstetrics and gynecology department 

Stephanie raised an eyebrow, a quiet laugh escaping her lips. “Quite a special place,” she muttered, her expression turning to one of thinly veiled sarcasm. 

A man and a woman in the obstetrics and gynecology department? Stephanie didn’t need to think twice to know why. 

Ella, still flustered, pressed on. “That Olivia is a calculating bitch, and Chris is an idiot. You shouldn’t marry him!” 

While Stephanie seemed calm, Ella was seething with anger. 

Stephanie sipped from the water cup on the table, unfazed. “Every time she calculates, the trouble’s on ME. Why are YOU so worked up?” 

When she was leaving two years ago, Olivia begged for Stephanie’s forgiveness in tears. 

And now, she came back and threw herself on Chris, again. 

‘Am I a pushover? Or just too kind?‘ Stephanie thought to herself. 

Ella didn’t let up. “She’s picking the perfect time–just before you and Chris are about to get married. She’s clearly up to 

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Chapter 1 

something.” 

Stephanie’s eyes sharpened, her grip on the phone tightening. I’m hanging up now, she said flatly. 

Ella’s voice was frantic. “What are you going to do? 

Stephanie’s lips curled into a thin smile. “Someone’s made a bad calculation. I’m going to teach her how to do the math. 

Then, she ended the call, the silence that followed settling in like a weight. 

Staring at her reflection in the mirror, Stephanie reached up to touch the bust of the dress. 

With a sudden, sharp rip, she tore the gown in half, throwing the pieces to the floor. 

The sound of fabric ripping echoed through the silent room. 

The saleswomen gasped in shock, their eyes wide. But when they saw the cold fury in Stephanie’s expression, none of them dared to move or speak. 

After she’d changed back into her own clothes, her phone vibrated again. 

She glanced at the screen–Chris’s name. 

Without a word, she answered, and his voice came through immediately, firm and clipped. “Once you’re done with the fitting, come to the office. 

For the past two years, Chris had always been gentle and considerate. 

Now Olivia is back, he suddenly became cold. 

This abrupt shift in tone made the already cold room feel even colder. 

A flicker of sarcasm flashed in Stephanie’s eyes. She couldn’t be bothered to respond. Without hesitation, she hung up. 

Half an hour later… 

Stephanie stepped into Chris’s office. He was standing by the floor–to–ceiling windows, speaking on the phone. 

Bathed in sunlight, he looked every bit the image of refinement and gentleness. His perfectly sculpted profile was hard to ignore, the kind of face that made it impossible to look away. 

His appearance was so rare and flawless, it seemed like something most people in Long Harbor City could only dream of. 

Noticing her presence, Chris quickly muttered into the phone, “Can’t join you for lunch today. Sorry. Goodbye.” 

He hung up and walked over to the nearby leather couch, settling into it with a soft creak of the cushions. 

The warmth from the phone call seemed to vanish in an instant, replaced by an icy coldness that darkened his expression. 

His eyes locked onto Stephanie, and his voice became clipped as he ordered, “Come here.” 

Stephanie held his gaze, not moving an inch. The tension between them was thick, hanging heavy in the air. 

Unlike the usual routine, she didn’t sit beside him. Instead, she chose to sit across from him, maintaining a distance that mirrored the coldness between them. 

Chris’s eyes narrowed, and the coldness deepened. 

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Click–the sound of a lighter echoed through the silence. The faint smell of gasoline hung in the air. 

Irritated, Stephanie waved her hand to fan it away, her nose wrinkling slightly at the scent. 

54% 

Chris, unfazed, took a drag from the cigarette, exhaling slowly. Then, with a hint of reluctance, he spoke. “Olivia’s back.” 

For a split second, guilt flickered in his eyes, but it disappeared almost as quickly as it had come. 

Then came the words that froze her. “Our wedding… it has to be postponed.” 

Stephanie had already seen this coming after the call with Ella. 

Her voice was cold as she asked, “What do you mean?” 

Their wedding should have nothing to do with Olivia. 

Chris exhaled another cloud of smoke, his tone steady as he explained, “She’s sick. It’s terrible.” 

As he spoke, he handed her a file, adding, “The admission letter from the University of Saint Peter. You should go study there.” 

His voice had an almost condescending edge, like he was giving her an order. 

Stephanie glanced at the file in his hand but didn’t reach for it. A small, almost playful smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. 

“Sending me abroad? Getting out of your way?” she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. 

Chris’s face darkened, his jaw tightening. “Isn’t this the school you’ve always wanted to go to? Now you’ve got the chance…” 

“Chris Ashford!” she interrupted sharply, her voice cutting through the tension like a knife. 

Without waiting for him to finish, Stephanie reached forward, snatched the envelope from his hand, and tore it apart. 

The pieces of the envelope scattered across the floor, and the last shred stuck to her hand. Without a second thought, she tossed it straight into Chris’s face. 

His expression shifted, the warmth draining from his eyes. 

Stephanie didn’t spare him another glance. “Postpone he wedding? Don’t bother. It’s canceled.” 

She let the words hang in the air, the finality of them cutting through the room. Postponing? She couldn’t bring herself to consider it. Canceling would be easier. 

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