Because of a throwaway joke, I stayed with Gideon for five years. Five years of silence, obedience, and playing the dutiful companion. I thought he felt at least a spark of affection for me. Just a tiny spark. Yet when his scandal with a pop star blew up the tabloids and news of his imminent engagement sent shockwaves through the financial world, I was the last soul to know. I asked him if he had ever loved me. Gideon’s laugh was ice-cold. “Love between us? Don’t you think that’s a bit too extravagant?” “I have to get married eventually, and that person was never going to be you.” “Stop making a scene. Can’t you just stay in your lane?” 1 SHOCKING! Pop Star’s Secret Lover Revealed—Is This Wall Street’s Most Eligible Bachelor? I sat on the crowded subway train, clutching a folder Gideon had left at home. The entertainment gossip on my phone screen burned into my eyes. Morning rush hour was brutal, everyone crammed shoulder to shoulder, surviving on trashy celebrity drama just to kickstart their day. “Look at this! She claimed to be single last week, and now she’s caught with a guy?” “He’s gorgeous, though.” “Rich too. Typical starlet trying to marry into money.” I stared at the familiar silhouette in the photos, my thumb trembling as I refreshed the page. A new statement popped up immediately. RUMOR CLEARED! Pop Star Clarifies Scandal: Just Friends. “Already debunked? How boring!” A dry, lifeless laugh escaped my throat. Gideon’s PR team was certainly getting faster at handling his messes. Stepping out of the subway station, I walked toward the towering glass skyscraper. The receptionist knew me, so I glided straight up to the penthouse executive suite without a word. I knocked on Gideon’s office door and walked in before waiting for a reply. The scene inside caught me off guard. Two people were sitting on the couch that used to sit empty. A faint yip echoed as I opened the door. An older man in a bespoke suit sat with an imposing air, a CEO from a partner firm, no doubt. Next to him was a stunning young woman, impeccably styled, her poise effortless. Gideon blinked in surprise, reacting instantly. “What are you doing here?” I froze, lifting the leather folder in my hands. “I brought the files you left behind.” “And who is this?” the beautiful woman asked, tilting her head. “My assistant,” Gideon said without a second thought. Assistant. I chewed on the word silently, my lips parting, but no sound came out. Seeing me stand there like a statue, Gideon reached over and took the folder. “That’s all. You can go back now.” I nodded mechanically and turned to leave, but her voice called out behind me. “Excuse me, could you bring me a cup of coffee?” She turned toward Gideon, her voice dripping with sweet affection. “I still can’t get used to black tea.” Gideon gave her a gentle, indulgent smile. “True. Tea isn’t for everyone.” He didn’t stop her, which meant he approved. A few minutes later, I returned carrying a fresh cup of coffee. Kneeling down, I set the mug smoothly onto the coffee table in front of her. “Here you go, ma’am.” I lowered my head and stepped back, only to be startled by a small dog suddenly lunging at me. I nearly lost my balance and tumbled to the floor. “Are you alright?” the woman asked politely, though she didn’t budge an inch from her seat. Gideon glanced over, frowning. “Why are you always so clumsy?” Scrambling back up in humiliation, I bowed my head. “I’m sorry.” “Just leave,” he commanded softly. “Wait,” the woman called out again, though her next words were directed at Gideon. “We’re heading to the gala later, and there’s no one to watch Milo. Can your assistant take him back to the hotel for me?” “Of course,” Gideon replied with easy charm. I took the leash from her manicured hand and led the whimpering little dog out of the office. 2 Coming to his office unannounced and crashing his meeting meant Gideon was furious. I gripped the steering wheel, my mind spiraling as I drove. A sudden, sharp bark from the backseat made me jump, skin crawling with goosebumps. I hated dogs, big or small, they terrified me. Cold sweat soaked my palms. I pressed on the gas, trying to reach the hotel as fast as possible without looking in the rearview mirror. But the little dog was bursting with energy, almost as if it sensed my fear and chose to prey on it. When I stepped out to open the back door, I didn’t move fast enough. It lunged and clamped its teeth into my hand. Sharp pain flared, and blood welled up immediately. The hotel manager rushing over gasped. “Ma’am, are you okay?” I pressed a napkin over the gash, taking a shaky breath. “I’m fine. Take him inside, please. I’ll handle this.” All the anxiety that had been building inside me vanished the moment the teeth broke my skin. The worst had happened. I drove myself to urgent care to get a tetanus and rabies shot. The bite on the back of my hand was deep, so the nurse escorted me into a small curtained bay to flush the wound with antiseptic. Traffic and the hotel stop had eaten up time, and now it was past lunch. The clinic was quiet. Cold liquid rushed through the tubing, washing out the wound over and over. Trapped in the chair, I could only scroll through my phone with my good hand. At exactly one o’clock, a push notification from the company’s official page flashed across my screen. GRAND ANNOUNCEMENT: Gideon Mercer, CEO of Mercer Enterprises, Announces Engagement to Heiress Gwen Crawford. The woman I had seen in his office was now wearing an exquisite evening gown, her arm looped intimately through Gideon’s. They held champagne flutes, smiling radiantly for the camera. Gideon looked immaculate in his tailored tuxedo, his power and confidence amplified by the stunning socialite at his side. So that rapid scandal denial this morning wasn’t for his reputation. It was to save face for Gwen. Panicking, I tried to stand up, but my knee knocked into the metal medical cart beside me. Tray, gauze, and silver instruments crashed onto the floor with a deafening rattle. The nurse rushed in, reassuring me as she knelt down to pick up the mess. A sudden wave of heat surged into my eyes, and a tear splashed directly onto the stainless-steel tray. Then a second. A third. Giving up, I buried my face into my knees and sobbed uncontrollably. “Hey, it’s really okay, sweetie, don’t cry…” The nurse panicked, patting my shoulder gently. That evening, Gideon came back. He had been entertaining guests all day and looked drained, heavy with the scent of whiskey. I handed him a warm, damp towel for his face. He didn’t take it, instead, he caught my hand. “What happened to this?” I pulled back slightly, but his grip tightened. He stared at the bandage on my hand, his brow furrowed. “Talk to me.” “I nicked myself while chopping vegetables for dinner.” Gideon finally let go. “How could you be so careless?” He wiped his face with the towel. As I turned to take it back to the bathroom, he wrapped his arms around me from behind. “Did you miss me?” He leaned his weight against my back, resting his chin on my shoulder. His warm, alcohol-laced breath brushed against my neck. I tilted my head away, evading the question. “You’re drunk. Let me help you to bed.” Gideon wouldn’t have it. Picking me up in his arms, he carried me straight into the bedroom. Fueled by liquor, his touch was rougher, bolder than usual. I stared up at his flushed face, but my thoughts drifted miles away. I wondered what he was like when he looked at Gwen. “What are you thinking about?” Gideon noticed my distraction and pinched my chin, forcing me to look at him. 3 “About you,” I answered softly. “What about me?” He leaned down, aiming for my lips. “About your engagement party today.” The moment the words left my mouth, the room went ice-cold. Gideon froze instantly. All the intimate warmth evaporated into thin air. Losing all interest, he let go of me and sat on the edge of the mattress, his expression turning dark. “You’re marrying Miss Crawford, aren’t you? Not as a market stunt, not to secure a deal. You’re actually making her your wife.” A heavy silence hung in the room before Gideon spoke. “I have to get married eventually.” “Then what am I? What were these five years supposed to mean?” My voice cracked with emotion. “What does that have to do with us? Marriage doesn’t change anything between us. You can still stay with me.” “Stay with you how? As your mistress?” Tears spilled over again. “Gideon, after all these years, don’t tell me you couldn’t tell. I love you. I’ve loved you for so long.” “What about you? Have you ever loved me even once?” Irritation flickered across Gideon’s face. “Don’t you think talking about love between us is a bit too extravagant? In the beginning, you were just…” He cut himself off, and silence reclaimed the room. But I knew exactly what he was going to say. “In the beginning, I was just a pet you bought, right? Someone you paid to sleep with. Isn’t that what you wanted to say?” The old, rotting scar was ripped open, bleeding fresh pain into both of us. I slid off the bed, kneeling on the floor to look up at him. “But I’ve truly loved you all these years.” I reached out, trying to take his hand. “Do you really not care about me at all?” Gideon pulled his hand back, his voice flat and detached. “Vivian, stop throwing a tantrum. Know your place. Can’t you just be sensible?” He rubbed his temples in frustration. “I’m stressed enough as it is. Stop making trouble for me!” My hand, rejected, hovered awkwardly in the air. Gideon turned his back to me and lay down, refusing to acknowledge my tears any longer. I don’t know how long I sat there. Finally, I wiped my face, pushed against my stiff knees, and stood up. Gideon remained motionless, facing the wall. He might have been asleep, or perhaps he simply refused to look at me. I softly pulled the bedroom door shut and walked out. Without intimacy, I had no right to be in that room. Leaning against the doorframe, I stared into the pitch-black living room, suddenly realizing I had nowhere left to go. Gideon was getting married. Which meant I could no longer exist in his world. The five-year fantasy had finally been shattered by his own hands. The love I had believed in was nothing more than a transaction, paid in full. 4 The truth was, being with Gideon had always been a leap above my station. When I first met him, I was a broke college student forced to take a leave of absence during my freshman year to pay off my family’s debts. The loan sharks were relentless. I had nothing but a pretty face, so I ended up working at a high-end lounge, promoting expensive champagne. In a place fueled by pure greed and lust, humanity didn’t exist. Being grabbed by the neck and forced to drink was a daily occurrence. When a bottle of expensive champagne was poured over my head, drenching my collar, I closed my eyes as usual, silently calculating how much commission I would earn from that single bottle. That was when Gideon walked into the VIP lounge. He put a stop to the cruelty, cupped my chin, and forced me to look up at him. He studied my face for a long time before asking a simple question: “Do you want to come with me?” I said yes. Because he had endless wealth. He wiped away my astronomical debt with a flick of his wrist. The terrifying debt collectors who used to corner me suddenly bowed and scraped in front of him, even addressing me politely as “Miss Vivian” for the very first time. He took care of my alcoholic father and my gambling brother too. I didn’t know what methods he used, but from that day on, neither of them ever crossed my path again. I was like a desperate weed clinging onto a towering oak tree, grasping Gideon for dear life. I had nothing to offer him in return except my body. I satisfied his every desire, in every way possible. And Gideon enjoyed it. For five years, I was his most constant companion. He re-enrolled me in college, pulling me out of dark basements into the bright sunlight of campus life. He spent considerable effort shaping me. He hired etiquette coaches, took me to elite galas, and introduced me to influential figures. I worked endlessly to learn, making sure I could walk beside him smoothly, my arm tucked in his at every grand event. In his words, I had to be someone he could show off. Yet Gideon was intensely possessive. He forbade me from getting close to any other man. He refused to let me attend social gatherings without his permission. Once, simply because a male classmate asked me for directions on campus and I talked to him for a few extra seconds, Gideon flew into a rage. His anger was terrifying. With a cold face, he threw me onto the bed, pinned me down, and bit my shoulder hard. “Why were you talking to him?” Breathless under his weight, I had to soothe his wrath while he dominated me. He knew everything that happened in my life and refused to listen to my explanations. I endured these punishments often. Though scared at first, I eventually tasted a twisted sweetness in it. He cared. He was jealous. Didn’t that mean he loved me? When did my love for him truly begin? I couldn’t pin it down. Perhaps it grew during those endless, quiet nights, or perhaps the seed was planted the very first moment he raised my chin in that dark nightclub. Over five years, that seed had grown into a massive tree, only to be yanked out by the roots tonight. 5 The next morning, Gideon left early. No breakfast, no farewell, not even a single glance in my direction. He was icing me out. This was my punishment for overstepping my bounds. Gideon ignored me for two whole days. Then, on the third night, he sent me a short text telling me to meet him at an upscale bar downtown. I pushed open the door to the dimly lit VIP lounge. Gideon was sunk deep into the leather sofa, a scantily clad woman leaning against his side. “Hey, Gideon! Your little pet is here!” “Better make it up to her, man, she looks pissed!” Gideon’s friends surged forward with glasses of tequila, laughingly blocking my path. They swore they wouldn’t let me reach Gideon unless I drank with them. Old memories hit me like a tidal wave. Suddenly, I was back in that chaotic lounge five years ago, surrounded by greasy men forcing drinks down my throat. Gideon watched with dark eyes, staying completely silent. He was granting them permission. I was forced to match them drink for drink, downing shot after shot until everyone had their fill. Only then did they mercifully part the way. I stumbled and fell onto the floor in front of Gideon. With a wave of his hand, the woman beside him quietly slipped away. Gideon reached out, gripping my chin just like he did the night we met, and asked softly, “Have you figured it out yet?” I was practically kneeling at his feet, burning alcohol surging up my stomach. Nauseous and dizzy, I was forced to look up at him as he waited for my surrender. “I was wrong, Gideon. It won’t happen again.” I was dazed and sick from the alcohol, but Gideon was thoroughly pleased. My submission put him in such a good mood that his temper remained bright the entire next day. Shortly after he left for the office, his assistant delivered a gift to the apartment. Proof that my performance last night satisfied him. If only the gift hadn’t been the wrong one. It was a luxurious velvet box containing a breathtaking diamond necklace, accompanied by a bouquet of deep red roses, so red they burned my eyes. Gideon had recently hired a new assistant who clearly didn’t understand the dynamics between us. I guessed he had mixed up my gift with the one meant for Gwen. Because Gideon never gave me red roses. Roses symbolized love. And a secret relationship like ours didn’t qualify as love. In all five years, he had always substituted roses with tulips or lilies, carefully avoiding any flower that might grant me foolish hope. I picked up the necklace. It was exquisite, shimmering like a river of stars. Sadly, it wasn’t meant for me. When Gideon returned that night, I showed him the box, having set the roses aside. “Ah, my assistant must have swapped them,” he said, taking the box and placing it on the nightstand. “What do you want instead? I’ll get it for you tomorrow.” “It’s fine, Gideon. It’s just a gift.” Gideon seemed pleased by my compliance. Switching off the lights, he pulled me into his arms. “You seem a bit distant lately,” his voice murmured against my ear. “Is it because I haven’t been performing well?” “I’m sorry, Gideon. Tell me what you like, and I’ll learn.”
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