“I’ve made up my mind. I’ll marry the Montague family’s vegetable heir,” Ophelia Somerset said, leaning casually against the doorway of Somerset Manor, a cold smirk on her face. George Somerset, her father, almost dropped his cigar onto the priceless Persian rug. Suddenly, he straightened up from his leather chair, lines of worry smoothing out on his face.”You’ve finally agreed? That’s excellent! The Montagues have been breathing down our necks—we’ll proceed in two weeks. What style of wedding dress do you want? I’ll have it commissioned immediately…” She cut him off with a disdainful laugh, “So that’s it? You’re just handing me over for your beloved illegitimate daughter, and that’s all you have to say?” The air in the living room seemed to drop several degrees. George’s face darkened in an instant, his brows knitting together menacingly. “What are you talking about? She’s your sister,” he growled, his voice laced with anger as the veins on his temple pulsed visibly. “Only if we shared the same mother. She’s the product of your infidelity. I’ll never recognize her as my sister, not for a single day of my life,” Ophelia retorted icily, her eyes as cold as a winter’s night. George’s jaw tightened so hard that his temples started to twitch. He took a long drag from his cigar, trying to compose himself as the ash fluttered down onto the plush carpet. After a moment, he let out a long, slow breath. “Fine. So, what do you want? Spit it out.” Ophelia shot back without hesitation, “Ten billion dollars. And once I’m married, I want Theodore Blake transferred to guard your precious illegitimate daughter.” George’s expression froze. He stared at her, his eyes wide with disbelief. “Are you out of your goddamn mind? Ten billion dollars? That’ll wipe out all my liquid assets. And Theodore? Weren’t you head-over-heels for him? You used to be practically on your knees begging to marry him. Now you’re just gonna leave and take him with you?””Just give me a straight answer, yes or no,” Ophelia said, her tone sharp as a blade. With that, she turned on her heel and started to walk away. In an instant, George shot to his feet and slammed his fist down on the table. “Deal! Once you head to Fairhope for your wedding, I’ll make it happen right away.” He didn’t want to dwell on the details; he just longed to put an end to this living nightmare. Years ago, Lucian Montague, the heir of the Montague family, was a rising star, a young man with a future as bright as the midday sun. George had arranged an engagement between his daughter Patricia Somerset and Lucian, envisioning a prosperous and happy life for her. But fate had a cruel twist in store. A tragic accident plunged Lucian into a coma, leaving him a shell of his former self. Reluctant to see Patricia’s life ruined, George suddenly remembered that Ophelia was also his flesh and blood. Ophelia waved him off dismissively, the sharp click of her high heels echoing across the marble floor as she made a beeline for the door. Just as she reached out to grab the handle, George’s voice halted her in her tracks. “Look, I get why you want the money. But Theodore? You were crazy about him, weren’t you? So, why are you so willing to hand him over to Patty?” Ophelia froze, her hand gripping the door tightly. She didn’t turn around, but her eyes began to prickle with unshed tears. Theodore’s felt like a dagger, stabbing straight into her most vulnerable spot. Without a word, she pushed the door open, effectively shutting George and his question behind her. By the time she stepped back into the villa, the night had grown deep. Ophelia ascended the stairs in her heels, passing Theodore’s room. From inside, she heard quiet, uneven breathing. The door stood slightly ajar. Ophelia peeked inside, and what she saw was impossible to misinterpret. There, Theodore was reclined against the headboard of the bed. One of his fingers was pinching a photo, while his other hand was hidden beneath the blanket, masturbating. His eyes were shut tight, and his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he let out low, husky whispers. “Patty… such a good girl…” It was a picture of Patricia, taken at last year’s birthday bash. In it, she was wearing a pristine white dress, her smile radiating innocence and purity. Ophelia’s nails dug into her Hermès clutch, leaving deep crescent-shaped imprints. A wild storm of emotions raged within her heart, as if a fire had been ignited. At that moment, she finally answered George’s question in her heart.Because, just like you, he only likes Patricia. The realization gnawed at her, a searing pain that felt like a red-hot blade piercing through her chest. It all started three years ago when she first laid eyes on Theodore during a security screening. As soon as she walked in, amidst a bunch of burly bodyguards, he stood out like a sore thumb. Why? Well, it was obvious—he was drop-dead gorgeous. Standing at a towering 6 feet 2 inches, Theodore had broad shoulders that tapered down to a narrow waist. His face was like a work of art, with chiseled features and eyes as cold as ice cubes. Ophelia had a bit of a reputation in the social scene as a bit of a flirt. At first, she just saw him as a bit of fun, someone to bat her eyelashes at. But somehow, three years had slipped by, and things had changed. She remembered one time she deliberately got plastered and threw herself into his arms. He just grabbed her by the back of the neck with one hand and plopped her back on the sofa as if she were a little kitten. Another night, Ophelia showed up at his door in a silky nightgown, thinking she’d turn up the heat. He just wrapped her up in his suit jacket and politely walked her back to her room. She even pulled a crazy stunt, pretending to drown in the pool. When he jumped in to save her, he didn’t even touch her waist. No matter how hard Ophelia tried to turn him on, to seduce him, Theodore remained as aloof as a mountain. He always addressed her respectfully as “Ms. Somerset”. And yet, against all odds, she found herself head over heels for him. She didn’t know when exactly her heart had been captured. Maybe it was because she had been so lonely since her mother Amanda Somerset’s death. When Ophelia was seven, George had an affair and brought back a bastard daughter named Patricia, only three months younger than her. It turned out that during their ten-year marriage, he had been unfaithful for nine years. That day, her seemingly happy and peaceful family fell apart. At that time, Amanda was nine months pregnant with George’s second child, due in just a few days. Amanda was deeply in love with George. She hysterically questioned him, sobbing so hard that she almost fainted. That night, she went into premature labor. Rushed to the hospital, she died along with the unborn baby before even reaching the operating room. After that, Ophelia hated George and Patricia with a passion. She moved out of Somerset Manor and grew up alone, going to school, eating, and doing everything by herself. It was only when the number of lecherous playboys in the social circle harassing her became too much that she decided to hire a bodyguard. Theodore was her first bodyguard. From then on, she was no longer alone. Theodore accompanied her everywhere. At first, Ophelia merely admired him from afar, then she started flirting with him, and before she knew it, she’d fallen head over heels in love. But over the past three years, more than a thousand days and nights, he’d never shown her the slightest interest. Ophelia used to think he was just naturally cold-hearted. That was until one fateful day. She’d peeked in and caught him masturbating, with Patricia’s photo in hand. She watched, stunned, as he finished up and then picked up the phone. “Mr. Blake, come on! How long are you gonna keep up this bodyguard charade? You’re the big-shot of Ridgefield. You could have any woman in town batting for your team. If you’re that crazy about Patricia, just go for it. Why be so shy and play the bodyguard for her sister just to get a glimpse of her all the time?” Theodore responded coolly, “I’ve done my homework. Patty’s an illegitimate daughter who’s had a rough go at life. She’s short on security. If I come on too strong, I’ll spook her. I’m gonna take it one step at a time.” “Alright, I never thought the Blake family would produce a lovesick puppy like you. I figured with all the flirting from Ms. Somerset, you’d be smitten. Let me tell you, she’s a real man-eater in the social scene. There are so many guys chasing after her that a line would stretch all the way to France…” Theodore gave a faint smile, but his words were like a dagger to Ophelia’s heart, sending her into a world of ice and despair. “Seriously? Not my type. She doesn’t even come close to Patty.” Each word hit Ophelia like a sharp blade, piercing through her heart. In that instant, the love she’d held for Theodore vanished into thin air. It seemed that his private moment had lasted longer than usual. A sneer appeared on Ophelia’s face. Without hesitation, she suddenly pushed the door open. The moment Theodore lifted his gaze, Ophelia caught a glimpse of an endless abyss in his eyes. As a person born and bred into high society, he remained completely unfazed even when his little secret was accidentally discovered. With a calm demeanor, he slipped the photo under his pillow. His fingers casually pressed that conspicuous bulge into his dress pants. In just a matter of seconds, he reverted to his usual aloof and ascetic self. It was as if the out-of-control man from moments ago had been nothing but a hallucination. Ophelia scoffed at him, “Not done yet and you’re taming the beast? Aren’t you afraid it’ll drive you nuts? Want me to give you a hand?” Theodore didn’t bat an eyelid. He just leaned back, creating some distance between them. “Ms. Somerset, did you come here for something?” He was always like this. He could get all worked up over Patricia’s photo, but when it came to her, he was chaste. Ophelia dug her nails into her palm, picturing Patricia’s plain-Jane looks. She had a better figure and looks than Patricia, yet everyone seemed to fall for that goody-two-shoes routine. It didn’t matter. She had looks, money, and curves. From now on, she’d ditch anyone who didn’t appreciate her. “Tomorrow there’s an auction. You’re coming with me,” she said coolly before turning on her heel. Theodore frowned. “I remember I asked for a two-day leave…” “Patricia will be there,” she said without looking back. There was a brief silence, then came his deep-toned reply. “Got it, Ms. Somerset.” Ophelia felt a sharp pang in her heart. Just the mention of Patricia was enough to make him throw his principles out of the window. Fine.Soon, she’d personally push him into Patricia’s arms. The next morning, as Ophelia stepped out of the manor, she saw Theodore waiting by the car. The black suit hugged his broad shoulders and trim waist perfectly. The early-morning sunlight cast a golden glow on his chiseled profile. Normally, she’d tease him—pretend to sprain her ankle and fall into his arms or breathe softly into his ear. But today, she just got into the car expressionlessly, not even sparing him a glance. Theodore seemed taken aback. He stole a look at her but quickly shifted his gaze and wordlessly slid into the passenger seat. The car headed towards the auction venue. Throughout the journey, Ophelia stared out of the window, not making small talk like she usually did. The silence in the car was thick. The auction was held at the most upscale hotel in the city center. Crystal chandeliers illuminated the hall like daylight. Amidst the elegant crowd of socialites and dignitaries, Ophelia spotted Patricia as soon as she walked in. Patricia was wearing a white dress, her long hair cascading over her shoulders. She was chatting and giggling with some other socialites, looking as innocent as a lamb. Theodore’s eyes instantly lit up. Although he was still standing behind Ophelia, doing his bodyguard duty, she could feel his attention was fully on Patricia. “Ophelia!” Patricia exclaimed as she spotted them. She trotted over and looped her arm through Ophelia’s. “What a coincidence! You’re here for the auction too?” Ophelia yanked her arm back. “Don’t touch me.” Patricia’s eyes welled up with tears. She looked at Theodore pitifully. “Theo, I just wanted to be friendly with Ophelia…” Then, she tugged at Theodore’s sleeve. “Theo, I heard you went out in the pouring rain to buy me fresh-baked scones when I had a fever last time. I’m so sorry I was really sick and have been recuperating these days, so I haven’t thanked you yet.” Theodore’s cold features softened immediately. “It was nothing, Ms. Patricia Somerset. It was on the way.” Ophelia sneered.On the way? He was gone for five hours and came back soaking wet. That was his “on the way”? “Well, I have to treat you to a meal then!” Patricia said sweetly. This time, Theodore didn’t decline. “As you wish, Ms. Patricia Somerset.” “Let’s invite Ophelia too!” Patricia turned to Ophelia and feigned surprise. “Oh, Ophelia, you look so haggard. I’m the one who was sick, you know…” Ophelia cut in icily, “Do we know each other well? Daughter of a mistress, mind your own business.” Patricia’s face paled instantly, and Theodore frowned even more tightly. Just then, the auctioneer announced the start of the auction, finally putting an end to this awkward conversation. Ophelia couldn’t be bothered with Patricia anymore and simply took her seat. She was about to marry into the Montague family. It was unrealistic to expect George to prepare a wedding gift for her. She had to get these things herself, which was the real reason she came to this auction. After sitting down, the first item was presented. It was a pigeon-blood ruby necklace with a starting bid of one million dollars. Without hesitation, Ophelia raised her bidding paddle. “Two million dollars.” To her surprise, Patricia also raised her paddle. “Three million.” Ophelia glanced at Patricia, who gave her a fake smile. “Ophelia, I like this one too. You don’t mind giving it to me, do you? After all, Dad gives you less allowance than me.” Ophelia sneered. It wasn’t just less; it was a huge gap. Throughout their childhood, George gave Patricia five million dollars a month as an allowance, while Ophelia only got 500 dollars. If it weren’t for the inheritance left by her mother, she might have starved to death. But things were different now. She had 10 billion dollars. “Four million dollars.” Ophelia raised her paddle again. Patricia was clearly stunned but still gritted her teeth and raised the bid. “Four and a half million.” “Five million.” “Five and a half million.” After several rounds of bidding, Patricia’s face grew increasingly sour. “Ophelia, where did you get so much money? Aren’t you afraid you can’t afford it?” “Ten million!” Ophelia doubled the bid and then gave Patricia a sarcastic smile. “I’m starting to think it’s you who can’t afford it now.” Patricia’s face was a mess of emotions—fury clenching her jaw, shock popping her eyes, and every mixed feeling twisting her expression. Meanwhile, the guests in the vicinity, ever the gossips, started to mutter among themselves. The auctioneer politely asked, “Ms. Patricia Somerset, do you want to raise the bid?” “Please wait a moment.” Patricia yelped, fumbling to fish out her phone and shoot off a text to George in a hurry. In no time, her face went from bad to worse, contorting into a mask of despair. It was crystal-clear that she’d gotten the cold shoulder from George. Noticing this, Ophelia couldn’t help but crack a triumphant smile. It was predictable that George would reject her. After giving Ophelia 10 billion dollars, he didn’t have much money left to let his precious daughter show off. Just when the atmosphere was extremely awkward, a well-dressed man suddenly appeared in the middle of the venue and announced loudly, “I’ll pay whatever the final bid is plus a premium!” The entire auction hall erupted into an uproar. “Sir, are you saying…” the auctioneer asked, his voice laced with surprise.The man calmly explained, “I’m Mr. Blake’s assistant. Mr. Blake has given instructions that today, for any items Ms. Patricia Somerset takes a fancy to, we’ll outbid everyone else no matter the cost.” The auction hall was instantly in a frenzy. “Mr. Blake? The sole heir of the Blake family? The renowned Ridgefield scion?” “Isn’t he supposed to be uninterested in women? Why would he go all out for Ms. Patricia Somerset?” “Looks like Ms. Patricia Somerset is about to hit the big time…” Whispers and speculations swirled around the hall. Patricia’s expression flickered from shock to surprise, finally settling into smugness. “May I know where Mr. Blake is? Can I thank him in person?” Patricia asked, her cheeks flushed with excitement. The assistant replied respectfully, “Mr. Blake isn’t available to show up at the moment. He’ll meet you when the time is right.” Patricia then turned to Ophelia, her eyes brimming with the joy of victory. “Ophelia, are you still going to bid?” The next second, she added with feigned innocence, “Oh, I almost forgot. Mr. Blake is covering all my bids. If you keep going, you might end up bankrupt. After all, in this circle, who else is richer than Mr. Blake?” Ophelia’s face paled instantly. She threw a sharp glance at Theodore, only to find him gazing at Patricia with undisguised tenderness. The rest of the auction was like a cheesy romance drama. Every time Patricia cast a longing look at an item, the assistant would immediately outbid everyone else. The ruby necklace, the ancient goblet, and even Monet’s Water Lilies with a starting bid of 80 million dollars, all went to Patricia. Unable to contain her anger, Ophelia shot to her feet. “Is your Mr. Blake planning to hoard everything for himself?” The assistant glanced cautiously at Theodore, who gave an almost imperceptible nod. “Sorry, Ms. Somerset. These are all gifts from Mr. Blake to Ms. Patricia Somerset. He only wants Ms. Patricia Somerset to enjoy this auction. Others’ feelings aren’t his concern,” the assistant replied coldly. Ophelia forced a smile, her nails digging deep into her palm. She looked at Theodore, but his eyes were still fixed on the elated Patricia. Theodore, you’re really something. You’re truly something! After the auction ended, Patricia was surrounded by a group of socialites, who were buttering her up. Unable to stand the fake atmosphere any longer, Ophelia quickly left the venue. As soon as she got in the car, she told the driver, “Take me to Night Serenade.”I need a drink to numb myself. But before the car door could close, Patricia squeezed in. “Ophelia, are you going to the club? I’ve been so bored lately. Can I come with you?” Just as Ophelia was about to kick her out, Theodore quietly held the door and simply said to the driver, “Let’s go.” Throughout the journey, Patricia was gushing about the auction. “Theo, why is Mr. Blake being so nice to me? I’ve never even met him!” Theodore’s voice was incredibly gentle. “Because he likes you.” Patricia’s eyes widened in disbelief, and her cheeks turned a deeper shade of red. “Theo, stop joking!” Theodore said, looking intently at Patricia, “A man knows a man’s heart. “Money talks in love. Besides, a charming woman like you was bound to catch his eye, Ms. Patricia Somerset.” “Then… do you like me too, Theo?” Patricia suddenly asked. Theodore was taken aback. Just as he was about to answer, Ophelia cut in coldly, “If you two want to be lovey-dovey, get out of my car!” Patricia’s eyes welled up with tears. “Sorry, Ophelia. I’ll be quiet.” Ophelia ignored her and turned to look out of the window. Through the window’s reflection, she could clearly see the tenderness and concern in Theodore’s eyes when he looked at Patricia, while his gaze towards her was cold and full of disgust. She gave a self-deprecating smile. It seemed all men were suckers for manipulative women.
The dim lights of the club cast a hazy glow. Ophelia threw back her third glass of whiskey, the burn of the alcohol in her throat doing nothing to quell the anger roiling in her chest. On the dance floor, she was dancing wildly in her red dress, the fabric swirling around her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Theodore standing by the VIP booth, never leaving Patricia’s side for a moment. Patricia said something and leaned in so close that her lips almost grazed Theodore’s earlobe. The man who had always been as cold as ice towards Ophelia now had a faint blush on his ears. Ophelia let out a sneering laugh. Just as she was about to turn away, a group of young playboys surrounded her. “Ms. Somerset, care to have a drink with us?” “Can I get your contact info?” “I’ve been dying to meet you, Ms. Somerset. You’re even more beautiful in person.” Trapped in the corner, Ophelia tried to refuse, but more and more men crowded around her. One of them even dared to grope her waist. “Theodore!” she finally snapped. As if just noticing her plight, Theodore frowned and pushed through the crowd. His well-defined arms were outlined by his black suit. With just a single look, those pampered brats scurried away. “One might think you’re her bodyguard,” Ophelia sneered, reaching up to wipe the wine stain off her collarbone. Theodore looked down. “Sorry, I didn’t see it just now.” “Didn’t see it?” She suddenly stepped closer, her red lips almost brushing against his chin. “Or just didn’t want to?” Caught off guard by the sudden proximity of the girl, Theodore swallowed hard and took a half-step back. “Ms. Somerset, you’re drunk.” “Don’t worry. Once I get married, you can protect Patricia to your heart’s content.” Ophelia’s words were drowned out by a sudden scream from the stage. The staff wheeled out an iron cage, and two adult Belgian Malinois were pacing restlessly inside. The host shouted excitedly, “Special show tonight! Black Whirlwind versus Flaming Inferno. Bets are being taken now!” Ophelia frowned. There were often these bloody dog-fighting and betting shows at Night Serenade, but she had always loathed them. Just as she was about to leave, the iron cage let out a creaking sound as if it couldn’t bear the weight any longer. The lock was coming loose. In the blink of an eye, the larger Belgian Malinois rammed the cage door open and lunged straight at the nearest crowd. Amid the screams, Ophelia watched as Theodore didn’t hesitate for a second. Instinctively, he rushed to Patricia’s side, wrapped his arms around her, and pushed her towards the emergency exit. And there she was, standing closest to the Belgian Malinois. She could even see the saliva hanging from the beast’s fangs. “Ah…” The searing pain came out of nowhere. As the Belgian Malinois sank its teeth into her calf, Ophelia heard the sickening rip of fabric and flesh. A chunk of meat was ripped off, and blood gushed out. She fell to the ground, watching helplessly as the beast lunged at her again. “Bang!” The gunshot made her ears ring. The Belgian Malinois dropped to the ground. The last thing she saw was Theodore holding the gun, protecting Patricia, and the ceiling spinning and darkening. The smell of antiseptic filled the air. When Ophelia regained consciousness in the throes of pain, the first thing she saw was the white ceiling. Her calf felt like it was on fire, and every breath seemed to tug at the wound. With great difficulty, she turned her head. The scene at the ward door hit her like a sledgehammer, jolting her half-awake mind. Patricia was sobbing in Theodore’s arms. “Theo, you’re Ophelia’s bodyguard. Why did you protect me… It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have come.” Theodore’s hands gently patted her back as he spoke in an incredibly gentle voice, “Ms. Patricia Somerset, don’t blame yourself. “Even if it happened a hundred times over…” He paused, brushing the tears from the girl’s face with his fingertips. “I’d still choose to protect you first.” “Why?” Patricia looked up at him with tear-filled eyes. Theodore looked into her eyes, his deep, dark eyes filled with affection. “Because I…” The shattering sound of the water cup hitting the floor interrupted Theodore before he could finish his sentence. Patricia jumped out of Theodore’s arms like a startled rabbit. “Ophelia, you’re awake!” She rushed to the bedside, tears welling up instantly. “How are you feeling? Does it still hurt? It’s all my fault…” Ophelia managed a cold smile with her pale lips. “You’re getting on my nerves. How can I get better with you around?” Patricia’s tears flowed even more profusely. Her shoulders trembled as if she’d suffered a great injustice. Biting her lip, she stole a last look at Theodore and then ran out sobbing. Theodore instinctively took a step forward to chase after her but stopped short. He turned to Ophelia, his voice low. “Ms. Somerset, it all happened so fast. I didn’t have time to think…” Ophelia didn’t say a word. She just turned her head and stared out of the window. She didn’t want to hear his excuses. For three straight days, Theodore stood guard outside her ward like a dedicated bodyguard, but she didn’t utter a single word to him. Finally, it was the day of her discharge. Ophelia limped towards the study on her still-healing leg. She pulled open the mahogany drawer and took out a jet-black leather whip. It was an ancestral family punishment tool of the Somerset family. One lash from it could tear the skin open. “Go and fetch Theodore,” she told the butler. When Theodore pushed the door open, Ophelia was carefully wiping the whip. Sunlight filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a soft shadow under her fluttering lashes. Ophelia tilted her head up, locking eyes with Theodore. “Theodore, you’re supposed to be my bodyguard, yet you let me down. I’m going to mete out the family punishment. You got a problem with that?” Theodore remained rooted to the spot. His eyes widened ever so slightly, a minuscule flicker of emotion in his otherwise stoic face. Ophelia caught that fleeting change. He was the only scion of the illustrious Blake family. People from all walks of life fawned over him, vying for his attention, his favor. It was unthinkable for anyone to even consider laying a hand on him, let alone subject him to the family’s disciplinary measures. But now, she was on the verge of lashing him with a whip. Ophelia studied Theodore’s face and burst into laughter all of a sudden. He was actually hesitating. He could have simply walked out that door and quit this whole gig, but there he stood, wavering. All because of Patricia? Was he really sticking around for her? A strange heat welled up in Ophelia’s eyes. She felt like laughing and crying at the same time. Theodore gritted his teeth and finally mumbled, “No.” In that instant, Ophelia’s heart gave a painful squeeze. She tightened her grip on the whip and suddenly raised her arm. “Stop!” A slender figure rushed forward out of nowhere, shielding Theodore. It was Patricia, her eyes brimming with tears and her voice quivering. “Ophelia, if you wanna take it out on someone, take it out on me. It’s my fault you got hurt, not Theo’s!” “Get out of the way,” Ophelia snapped. “No!” Patricia shook her head, sobbing pitifully. “I’m the one who caused you harm. Punish me instead…” Theodore reached out to pull her away. “Ms. Patricia Somerset, this isn’t your business.” But Patricia stubbornly stood in front of him, refusing to budge. Ophelia watched the scene, her anger boiling over. She lashed out with the whip! The whip sliced through the air. She’d aimed for Theodore, but Patricia threw herself in the way and took the lash for him. “Ah!” Patricia let out a cry of pain. Her slender body swayed and then collapsed. Theodore caught her in his arms. When he looked up again, Ophelia was met with a pair of ice-cold eyes filled with killing intent. It was as if he’d pounce on her and wring her neck any second. She froze, feeling as if she’d fallen into an ice cave. “Get out.” Ophelia heard her own voice tremble. Theodore bent down and scooped up the unconscious Patricia in his arms. Then, he made his way out of the study. The heavy door crashed shut behind him, the thunderous noise echoing through the silent hallway. Ophelia remained frozen in place. Only then did she become aware of the violent tremors wracking her hands. Three days later, Ophelia went to try on wedding dresses alone. Night had fallen when she stepped out of the bridal shop. Suddenly, someone grabbed her from behind and clapped a hand over her mouth and nose. The sharp stench of chemicals hit her nose. She struggled for a moment before everything went black. When Ophelia woke up, she couldn’t see anything. A blindfold covered her eyes, and her hands were tied to a chair. She couldn’t move. With a crack, the first lash of the whip made her arch her back in pain. Rough rope dug deep into her wrists. The blindfold made the darkness feel even more suffocating. She bit down on her lip hard to keep from screaming. “You crossed the wrong person,” the voice said from somewhere in the darkness. The whip came down like a storm. Each strike cut through the air with a vicious sound, tearing her skin apart. Ophelia clenched her teeth and refused to let herself scream. Who wanted to do this to me? The beating went on forever. It only stopped when Ophelia was barely conscious anymore. Then, she heard someone dialing a phone. “Sir, it’s done,” the man said respectfully. A familiar voice answered from the other end of the line, “Good. Send her back.” It was just one sentence. But Ophelia’s blood turned to ice. It was Theodore. He had ordered this beating! Just because she’d accidentally whipped Patricia once, he had someone give her 99 lashes in return? Pain and cold swept through her entire body. She couldn’t hold on anymore and collapsed into unconsciousness. ***** Later at the hospital, Ophelia lay face-down on the mattress, her back searing with pain from the gashes. Through the door, she caught snippets of nurses’ chatter. “That guy is so handsome. He’s being so sweet to his girlfriend.” “I know, right? She just has one little whip mark and he’s acting like it’s the end of the world. Meanwhile, the patient in 304 is covered in injuries and nobody even visits her.” Ophelia yanked out her IV line and shuffled to the hallway, bracing herself against the wall. Sure enough, she spotted Theodore outside the VIP room. He was holding a glass of water and carefully helping Patricia drink, his movements gentle and patient. Patricia was pouting about something, acting all cute and needy. Theodore used his thumb to wipe away a drop of water from the corner of her mouth, his eyes so tender they practically melted. Ophelia leaned against the wall, tears welling up in her eyes. She couldn’t understand why her heart still ached this badly when she’d already decided to let him go. It felt like someone was carving out pieces of her flesh with a dull knife. Don’t cry, Ophelia. She told herself this over and over. Because nobody would care if she did. *****On the day she was discharged, Ophelia had barely stepped out of the hospital when she heard familiar footsteps behind her. Theodore had returned. Their eyes met, and both of them saw something different reflected back. They stood there in silence until Ophelia’s phone suddenly buzzed. George’s name flashed across the screen. “Tomorrow is Patty’s birthday party.” George’s voice carried that familiar tone that brooked no argument. “She’s been crying to me constantly, saying she wants to fix things between you two. You need to be there.” Ophelia let out a cold laugh. “Not happening.” “What’s with the attitude? This might be your last chance.” George’s voice grew sharper. “The Montague family has already set the date. Once you marry into their family—” Ophelia hung up on him and looked up at Theodore, who was standing in the shadows. “Do you think I should go?” Theodore’s sharp features looked even more severe under the wall sconce’s harsh light. He stayed quiet for a few seconds before answering in that low voice of his. “You should go.” “Fine.” She forced a smile. “As you wish.” The birthday party was being held in Somerset Manor’s glass conservatory. By the time Ophelia arrived in her dark green velvet gown, most of the guests were already there. Under the crystal chandeliers, Patricia stood in her pink ball gown, basking in attention like a real princess surrounded by her court. “Ophelia!” Patricia rushed over with obvious delight, reaching out to link arms with her. Ophelia stepped aside to avoid the contact. Her gaze swept across the room, taking in all the extravagant gifts George had showered on his illegitimate daughter—limited edition Hermès bags, Tiffany blue boxes, and even a Porsche key. “Patty has always been such a good girl. She’s my favorite,” George said, his face glowing with affection as he stood beside Patricia. The scene reminded Ophelia of something from long ago—George had once stood the same way next to her and her mother. She remembered wearing a little white dress while George lifted her high in the air, and her mom smiled gently from the side. Now, everything had changed beyond recognition. After the cake cutting, guests began breaking off into small groups around the room. One of Patricia’s friends pulled her aside for some gossip. “Patty, there are so many eligible bachelors from prominent families here tonight. Is your dad trying to set you up with someone? But wait—I thought you were already engaged to someone from the Montague family?” Patricia laughed and glanced meaningfully toward Ophelia across the room. “That’s ancient history.” “Oh good! I heard that guy ended up in a coma or something. Marrying him would be like signing up to be a widow.” Her friend wiggled her eyebrows mischievously. “So tell me. With all these men here tonight, what exactly are you looking for in a husband?” The other girls gathered around, egging Patricia on. She blushed and started counting on her fingers. “First, he has to be absolutely crazy about me—like, willing to tattoo my name on his chest crazy.”Second, he needs to be brave. I heard there’s this legendary ‘Thorn Rose’ that only blooms once every hundred years up on Moonlight Cliff. He’d have to climb up there and pick it for me. Third—” The ballroom doors suddenly burst open, cutting her off mid-sentence. “Mr. Blake has arrived to present a gift and wish Ms. Patricia Somerset a very happy birthday!”
Theodore’s assistant walked in with an entourage behind him, carrying gift after priceless gift: a rare pink diamond necklace, vintage masterpiece paintings, and even the deed to a private island. The entire room erupted in shocked whispers. “Wait, Mr. Blake sent all this?” “I heard he had someone bid crazy money for Ms. Patricia Somerset at that auction, and now he’s personally delivering gifts. Looks like Ms. Patricia Somerset’s really hit the jackpot!” The gossip spread like wildfire. Several guests shot pitying glances toward Ophelia, shaking their heads sympathetically. She was obviously more beautiful and came from a better background, but everyone could see she’d lost this battle. Ophelia set down her wine glass and headed for the terrace. The night air felt cool against her skin. She’d barely taken a deep breath when Patricia’s voice shattered the silence behind her. “What are you doing out here all alone, Ophelia?” Without the guests around and George nowhere in sight, Patricia finally dropped her sweet act. “You know what Dad told me? You’re going to marry that vegetable.” Her smile turned sickeningly sweet and vicious at the same time. “How pathetic. Your mother couldn’t beat mine back then, and now you can’t beat me either.” Ophelia spun around, her eyes blazing. “Say that again.” “I said—” Patricia stepped closer, her red lips twisting into a cruel smile as she hissed like a snake, “your mother deserved to die in childbirth, and she—” The sharp crack of the slap echoed through the night air. But Ophelia hadn’t hit anyone. Patricia had slapped herself! The next second, tears started streaming down Patricia’s face. She stumbled backward a few steps and collapsed right into Theodore’s arms as he rushed over. “Don’t blame Ophelia…” Patricia sobbed, covering her face. “I shouldn’t upset her…” George and the other guests hurried over when they heard the commotion. Their accusing stares hit Ophelia like daggers. “Ophelia!” George shouted furiously. “Don’t you have any manners at all!” The guests started whispering among themselves, and their words cut deep. “That was cruel. Today’s Patricia’s birthday too…” “Well, her mother died young. No mother to raise her properly, so of course she turned out bitter and petty.” Ophelia watched this carefully staged performance and suddenly burst out laughing. She marched forward and slapped Patricia hard across the face in front of everyone. “Get this straight,” she said, smashing her champagne glass. The broken pieces reflected dozens of shocked faces. “That’s what it looks like when I actually hit someone.” As Ophelia turned to leave, she caught sight of Theodore holding Patricia protectively. His eyes were ice-cold as they followed her. The garden path stretched ahead of her. Ophelia had barely rounded the corner when someone grabbed her wrist in a crushing grip. Theodore’s strength was brutal. She felt like he might break her bones. “Ms. Somerset,” he said in a low voice thick with barely controlled rage. “What?” Ophelia looked up with a mocking expression. “I slap her once, so you’re going to slap me 99 times in return?” Theodore’s eyes widened slightly in shock. What did she mean by that? Had she somehow found out about what happened last time? That was impossible. He’d been so careful to keep it secret. “Ms. Somerset,” Theodore said, loosening his grip and frowning deeply, “you have everything you could want. Why do you keep giving Ms. Patricia Somerset a hard time?” “I have everything?” Ophelia suddenly burst into laughter, but the sound was so harsh it was almost like crying. “What do I have? The moment she showed up, she stressed my mother into early labor and killed her—killed both of them! She moved into our house and took my room, my toys, my allowance, my father! Even my spot at boarding school—she took everything from me!” This was the first time Theodore had ever heard her say so much. In the moonlight, Ophelia’s eyes—usually filled with sarcasm—were brimming with tears that she stubbornly refused to let fall. “From what I’ve heard,” Theodore said coldly, “Ms. Patricia Somerset is the one who’s had it rough.” Ophelia jerked away from him and turned to leave. “Believe whatever you want.” Just as she was getting into her car, Theodore spoke again, “Ms. Somerset, I’d like to request a few days off.” “Fine by me.” Ophelia slammed the car door without looking back. After the black sedan had driven some distance, she suddenly told the driver, “Turn around.” When they got back near Somerset Manor, Ophelia spotted Theodore getting into a Rolls-Royce. She told her driver to follow at a distance, and moments later, they were outside a high-end tattoo studio. Through the glass window, she watched Theodore unbutton his shirt and bare his muscular chest. The tattoo artist was asking him something, and Theodore pointed to the spot right over his heart. His lips moved to form two clear syllables—”Patty.” Theodore’s assistant tried to talk him out of it. “Mr. Blake, Sir Blake is going to lose it when he finds out—” “Do it,” Theodore said. That was all. The tattoo needle buzzed to life, and every pierce felt like a stab straight through Ophelia’s heart. Two hours later, Theodore walked out clutching his bleeding chest, his face pale but determined as he climbed into the car. “Take me to Moonlight Cliff,” he told the driver. “Sir, you can’t! That place is way too dangerous, especially right after getting a tattoo—””Now,” Theodore cut him off. Ophelia sat in her car, suddenly remembering what Patricia had said about her ideal man. “He has to be the type who’d tattoo my name over his heart. And there’s this flower that grows on Moonlight Cliff—he’d have to climb up there and pick it for me.” Ophelia started laughing, but then the tears came anyway. “Let’s go,” she told her driver. “We’re done following him.” That night, she saw Patricia’s latest Instagram post. A single photo showed wild roses blooming on a clifftop. The caption read: [He’d go to the ends of the earth just to pick me a flower.] Theodore came home at three in the morning. Blood covered his clothes, and his right hand was broken, but a satisfied smile tugged at his lips. *****The next day, Ophelia was heading out when Theodore emerged from his room. His face looked pale, his right arm was wrapped in bandages, and his shirt hung open at the collar. “Ms. Somerset,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I had a car accident last night. I need to rest for a few days, so I can’t protect you right now.” A car accident? More like he fell off a cliff. But Ophelia didn’t call him out on the lie. She just nodded and walked straight out the door. Today was her farewell party with her friends. At the upscale club, they’d booked a VIP room. “Come on, let’s party till we drop!” Her best friend, Zoe Collins, threw an arm around Ophelia’s shoulders. “Ophelia is getting married soon! She’ll be Mrs. Montague before we know it. We have to celebrate!” The private room was packed with her closest friends from the past few years. A champagne tower sparkled under the lights, and music pounded so loud it hurt, but somehow, Ophelia felt completely quiet inside. “Honestly, a husband in a coma sounds perfect!” Zoe slurred, waving her glass around. “Rich, gorgeous, and you don’t have to take care of him. That’s like the ideal marriage!” “Exactly!” another friend chimed in. “Plus, the Montague family has such a huge fortune. It’ll all be yours someday!” Ophelia laughed softly, running her finger around the rim of her glass. “Once you’re married, you have to behave yourself. I need to protect the Montague family’s reputation.” Everyone went quiet for a moment, then quickly started talking over each other. “Mr. Montague will definitely wake up!” “You’re so beautiful. How could he stand to keep sleeping?” “Right! Ophelia is the most gorgeous girl in our circle. There’s no way you’ll be stuck as a widow.” Ophelia smiled as she listened to their nonsense, drinking one glass after another. When they were saying goodbye, Zoe suddenly threw her arms around Ophelia. Her voice cracked with emotion. “Your dad is such a bastard… and that Patricia too. Do you want us to teach her a lesson?” “No need.” Ophelia patted her back gently. “Once I’m gone, none of this will matter to me anymore.” She hugged each friend one by one until everyone had tears in their eyes. After paying the bill, Ophelia walked past the private room next door and heard familiar voices. “Is that flower really so hard to get?” “You bet it is. Moonlight Cliff is so dangerous that even professional climbing teams won’t go there.” Through the half-open door, Ophelia watched Patricia twirling the Thorn Rose between her fingers. Her friend, Brittany Rose, leaned in with obvious curiosity. “So he actually risked his life to pick that thing for you? When he delivered the flowers yesterday, I swear I saw your name tattooed on his chest! He’s really serious about pursuing you, isn’t he?” “He’s just a bodyguard,” Patricia said dismissively. “What makes him think he’s good enough for me?” “I’m the one who’s caught the eye of the Blake family heir now.” She traced the damaged petals with her fingertip. “Though I’ll admit Theo is pretty easy on the eyes. He’d make a decent side piece.”
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