Chapter 3

Before the files arrived, my brother's call came first.

His voice on the phone carried a rare gravity:

"Cece, it's right here in my hands. Are you sure you want to see it?"

He paused, his tone softening:

"Some things, if you stay in the dark, maybe they just pass. But once you see them, there may really be no turning back!"

I understood his concern. After all, the old me had loved Ken Henson without any limits at all.

When his family's investments failed and their cash flow snapped, I put up my own cash, even sold a set of jewelry my mother left me, to plug the hole for him.

He casually said he liked girls with hair down to their waist, so I never cut my hair again, even though maintaining it cost me so much time.

His mother complained I wasn't wifely enough, so I dropped everything at the company and ran off to learn flower arranging and cooking with a group of housewives.

One word from him that he was busy, and I obediently canceled the trip I'd been looking forward to for so long, sitting alone in front of my birthday cake, crying while I made excuses for him: "Work comes first!"

All of it, everything from the past, now came back like so many boomerangs, stabbing my heart until it was riddled with holes.

Not worth it. So not worth it!

I took a deep breath, my firm tone edged with a ruthless bite:

"Denys, I know I was a fool. For him, I was ready to throw myself away entirely!"

"But I'm a daughter of the Cox family. I can lose, I can hurt, but I won't let anyone play me for a fool, and I won't disgrace the Cox name!"

There was a long silence on the other end, and then my brother's low laughter came through:

"Good! You still remember the Cox backbone in your blood. Since you've decided, then see it through, even if you end up bloodied and battered!"

When the video opened, the unwatchable images and sounds came pouring out through the screen.

Beth Henson's intoxicated face, panting softly:

"Ken, in front of her... do you lose yourself like this too? Or... are you picturing my face?"

Ken Henson suddenly crushed his mouth over hers, grinding for a long moment before letting out a resentful growl:

"That filthy mouth of yours—this is the only way to shut it up!"

Then, with a lazy assessment:

"Cece... she's sensible, very obedient, perfect to marry and keep as a wife. Just too settled—you can see the whole thing at a glance..."

Beth rolled over and sat on top of him, her eyes languid with allure:

"Then if you're not full after the wedding, remember to come find me. I've got plenty of tricks!"

"A block of wood like Cecilia Cox—she'll never learn it in this lifetime..."

Videos like this crammed the entire screen.

My brother sent a message, his tone icy:

"The hotel staff meant to look for clues while cleaning, and it turned out Beth's laptop was left open—they copied all the good stuff inside!"

"There are a full 540 videos of them like this, going all the way back to when they were teenagers at the old Henson estate, plus a lot shot from overseas IP addresses, each one dated!"

My hands shook as I counted off those overseas videos on my fingers.

My birthday, our anniversary, Valentine's Day... every important day I once looked forward to, only to have him put me off with the excuse of a "work assignment"—

on every one of them, he'd been at Beth's side.

And back then, I was still pouring my heart out to my best friend Beth on those overseas calls.

On the other end of the line, what kind of face was she wearing—sympathizing and comforting me while she and Ken laughed at how stupid I was?

My heart felt like it was being clenched tight in a giant hand; I couldn't breathe.

The sheer absurdity and disgust of it nearly drowned me.

I picked up my phone and typed it out to my brother, word by word:

Are you coming to my wedding?

The screen lit up with a reply right away:

"My sister's wedding—as her big brother, of course I have to come and make a good scene of it!"