Chapter 3

The cutlery in Ethan’s hand fell onto the table.

Ethan’s mother frowned. "Who is Mia Reed?"

Ethan immediately looked at me.

"Clara, what are you overthinking now? Mia is just an intern at my company."

"I’ve been leading her on a project lately, so we’ve had a little more contact."

There was blame in his tone, as if I were being unreasonable.

I smiled. "I only asked casually, so why are you nervous?"

He looked at my smile, and panic flickered in his eyes for an instant.

But very quickly, he returned to being gentle.

"I’m afraid you’ll misunderstand. We’re about to get married, and I don’t want someone irrelevant to affect our relationship."

I lowered my head and drank my coffee without saying anything else.

The meal was very tense.

Before we left, Ethan’s mother still would not give up.

"You two should discuss adding his name again after you go back. It would be best to handle it before the wedding, or else it won’t sound good if people ask."

My dad said coldly, "No one will ask."

Ethan walked me to the car.

He lowered his head and looked at me, his eyes complicated.

"Clara, what’s wrong with you today? Is it pre-wedding anxiety?"

I looked up at him.

"Ethan Carter, have you ever lied to me?"

He was silent for one second, then smiled and rubbed my hair.

"Silly, I wouldn’t lie to you even if I lied to anyone else."

I turned sideways and avoided his hand.

"I hope so."

Over the next three days, I prepared for the wedding as usual.

I confirmed the guest list, checked the banquet details, and revised the schedule.

Ethan thought I was just throwing a small tantrum, so he started becoming especially attentive.

Every day, he sent me good morning and good night messages, ordered takeout for me, and even came personally to wait for me downstairs at my apartment building.

But every night after eleven, he would still appear at the wedding home.

Once, he did not leave until three in the morning.

Early the next morning, Mia posted a selfie video.

She was wearing a men’s white shirt and drinking coffee on the bay window of my home.

The caption read: [He said the wedding is just a formality, and who you love is the real answer.]

Someone in the comments teased: [Your man spoils you so much, when is the wedding?]

She replied: [Soon, once he finishes dealing with the trouble.]

The trouble.

So I was the trouble.

I saved the screenshots and sent them to my lawyer friend Olivia Hayes along with the lock records, video links, and the property management surveillance request form.

Olivia called me, and her tone was frighteningly cold.

"This is no longer just a simple relationship dispute."

"Your apartment was entered multiple times without permission, and it was also used for commercial filming and traffic generation, which involves infringement. If the bracelet is in her possession, you can also demand its return."

"Also, you previously said you paid for the renovation materials, but several payments went through Ethan’s company account?"

"Yes."

"Then investigate it clearly. If he moved company project materials and design resources for private use, that’s enough to get him in serious trouble."

I looked at the dense evidence on my computer, and finally felt a little support in my heart.

The pain was still there, and so was the disgust.

But I would no longer be like I had been before, only crying and asking him why.

I wanted everyone to see clearly what kind of thing he really was.

On the fourth day, someone took the initiative to add my contact information.

The profile picture was that familiar innocent side-profile photo.

There was also a message attached: [My name is Mia Reed, and I left a piece of lingerie at your place.]