chapter 1

During a business trip, I fell ill with a severe fever and tried calling my fiancé over a hundred times before he finally answered.

He used to be sweet and caring. However, this time he simply advised me to use a cold compress and ended the call abruptly.

Upon returning home, I discovered a thick, curly black hair on my toothbrush. "Babe, your hair’s naturally curly. It’s normal for one to fall out while you’re brushing your teeth."

This term of endearment, "babe," only surfaced when he had been caught in a mistake.

I nodded, pretending I agreed. But acting on suspicion, I stored the toothbrush with the hair.

A fortnight later, a DNA report for three people confirmed my fears. My mind was overwhelmed with scandalous thoughts.

I checked out the profile of a girl who recently befriended me. Her first post bluntly stated: "The unloved one is the side chick. She should step aside!"

I scanned through her posts.

"My man said it’s not time to go public yet. We hugged and cried for ages."

"He pissed me off today, so he gave me a gold bracelet to make up for it. He wanted me again and again all night. My legs are jelly."

"Today I showed off my skills for him, drove him crazy. Her constant ringtone was our background music!"

The final post coincided with the day of my fever.

Colton James cheated on me.

Forcing down my tangled, messy thoughts, he and I spent Christmas at my parents' house as planned. Other family members, including my aunt and cousin Amelia Clark, were also present.

During the gathering, Colton frequently checked his phone and offered me treats. Then he abruptly stood up and dashed outside, only to return casually conversing with Ameilia.

He caught my questioning look and awkwardly explained, "Uncle and Aunt were busy, so I helped greet the guests."

"Auntie, Cassidy and I prepared some Christmas gifts for you—don’t forget to take them when you head home.

Colton sifted through a pile of presents and set aside a company gift basket.

Fine wine, artisan chocolates, truffle cheese, supplements, and a string of luminous pearls—he had assembled an elegant mix of indulgence and care. He then presented the collection to my aunt and Amelia, claiming we had chosen them together as Christmas gifts.

Amelia cast him a teasing, flirtatious glance, while Auntie greedily accepted each item one by one.

Every year, we prepared the Christmas gifts together, and this year was no exception.

The only difference was that my goodwill had become his stepping stone to please someone else.

Trying to hide my disbelief, I joked that Auntie was beginning to look more and more like his future mother-in-law. The gifts, originally meant for my parents, were eagerly accepted by Auntie, while Amelia, chin lifted, declared they were rightfully hers.

"These are all gifts Colton got for me. If you’re jealous, just admit it." Amelia continued.

"I’ll even let you have one!"

Seeking an explanation, I turned to Colton.

He cleared his throat, gently took my hand, and said softly, "Babe, Amelia helped me out when I was in a tight spot earlier—these are just thank-you gifts."

"I should’ve told you beforehand. I’m sorry."

Memories of that hair returned, and I felt queasy.

I yanked my hand away, a wave of disgust washing over me as my stomach churned.

Colton perceived my retreat as lingering anger. He quickly turned to Amelia and said, "Amelia, I’ll get new gifts tomorrow and bring them over to you."

Amelia crossed her arms in defiance. "No way!"

Mom hurried out from the kitchen to smooth things over. "We’re all family—let’s not make a big deal out of it."

"Your aunt and cousin have only each other to rely on. Colton is more thoughtful than I am, even as her older sister."

Avoiding further conflict, I stayed silent during dinner.

"Cassidy, I honestly feel sorry for you. You’re already thirty, and Colton still hasn’t married you.

"With that temper of yours, who’d even want to?"

The living room was empty except for the two of us when she started her little taunts.

I glanced at the gold bracelet on her wrist and her perfectly polished nails. My stomach turned—but I got the message loud and clear.

"Oh right, you’re thirty-three.

"So he’s marrying you, then?"I mocked her.

"Sure, I’m three years older," she said, tilting her chin smugly, "but with this baby face, I could pass for twenty-three."

I gave her a cold look—truly the other woman through and through.

I had to admit, Amelia did have a face that hid her age well. She used to chase after younger guys, only to end up scammed and broke.

After her dad passed, life wasn’t easy. Maybe that’s why she’s always tried to take what’s mine—my things, my spotlight, and now, apparently, my fiancé.

But I know one thing: a man doesn’t stray without reason.

Rubbing at the throbbing in my temples, I looked straight at her.

"This fiancée spot—if you want it that badly, it’s yours. Hope you can handle it."