Chapter 2

When I stepped out of the car, the wind was fierce.

Lester didn't come after me.

He only rolled down the window, watching me stand at the curb, his brows drawing together slightly.

"Bertha, stop sulking."

"I know you feel wronged, but this is the best way to handle it right now."

"Once this blows over, I'll make it up to you."

I stood in the wind, without even the strength to turn and look at him.

"Suit yourself."

I flagged down a taxi, pulled the door open, and got in.

In the rearview mirror, Lester's car sat there a long while before it slowly pulled away.

He probably thought this was just a girl throwing a tantrum after losing her sense of security.

After all, in his eyes, I loved him without limit.

For three years, to suit his tastes, I gave up my own career and taught myself to cook and keep house.

His stomach was bad, so every single day, without fail, I brought a bowl of hot soup to his office.

He didn't like me wearing anything too revealing, so I swapped out every dress in my closet for conservative ones.

He thought I couldn't live without him, and that was why he'd dared to gamble with my reputation so recklessly.

Back at the apartment, I didn't even turn on the lights. I dropped straight onto the couch.

My phone screen lit up. A message from Beverly.

"Bertha, don't blame Lester. He's under pressure from his family, that's the only reason he had to break off the engagement first."

"Don't worry, I'll talk him around for you."

Attached was a photo, freshly taken.

In it, Lester sat on the couch at her place.

A glass of warm milk in his hand, his head bent over his phone.

That glass of milk was the one I used to heat for him every night.

I stared at the photo for a few seconds, then tossed the phone aside.

At ten the next morning, right on time, I walked into the café across from the county courthouse.

I pushed the door open. A man sat at the table by the window.

He wore a well-cut dark suit, head bent over the tablet in his hand, the line of his profile cold and sharply drawn.

Raymond Farley.

Famous in New York's elite circle for his iron-fisted methods, the current head of the Farley family.

Also the arranged marriage match my father called "very sincere."

Hearing me come in, he looked up, his gaze landing on my face.

Those eyes were deep as still water, giving nothing away.

"Miss James. Sit."

His voice was low, carrying the ease of a man at the top.

I pulled out the chair and sat, setting my household register on the table.

"Mr. Farley, my father should have made everything clear to you."

I got straight to the point.

"My reputation is ruined right now. Those photos online may be blurred, but everyone in the circle knows it's me."

"Are you sure you still want to go through with this marriage?"

Raymond looked at me, his long fingers tapping lightly on the table.

"I've seen the photos."

His tone was calm, without a ripple.

"The angles were deliberate. The signs of drugging are obvious too."

"Miss James, you're a smart woman. You should know who did it."

My fingertips went stiff.

He hadn't needed to investigate at all. One look and he'd seen straight through this clumsy setup.

"That doesn't matter." I lowered my eyes. "What matters is, if you marry me, the Farleys lose face along with me."

Raymond gave a sudden faint laugh.

It barely showed, and never reached his eyes.

"The Farley name doesn't need a woman's reputation to hold it up."

"Why me?" I couldn't help asking.

Raymond leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed heavily on me.

"Because Miss James is rational enough."

"I need a suitable wife, and you need someone solid behind you to get out of your current situation."

"Each gets what they need. That's fair."

I looked into those deep eyes and suddenly thought that dealing with a smart man really did save trouble.

After we got the marriage license, my phone rang.

Bella was calling.

"Bertha James, where the hell did you disappear to!"

The moment I answered, Bella's shrill voice stabbed at my eardrums.

"My mom says you drag yourself over to the old Stephens estate right now!"

"Don't think signing the annulment statement means you're off the hook. You dragged the whole Stephens name through the mud. Get over here and explain yourself!"

I held the phone a little farther from my ear, my tone even.

"I'm busy."

"You dare not come?" Bella sneered. "Beverly's here, and so is my brother.

If you don't show, you think I won't send the original photos straight to your company group chat?"

My grip on the phone tightened hard.

"Fine. I'll be right there."

I took a taxi straight to the old Stephens estate.

The moment I walked into the living room, Marjorie Stephens slammed her hand down on the table.

"Kneel!"