The day the Vereen empire crumbled, everyone expected me to break off my engagement to Seraphina. But as the downpour hammered the city, I was the one holding an umbrella over her, shielding her rain-soaked, broken figure as I guided her into my car. “Here’s a hundred million,” I told her, my voice low and steady. “If you succeed, you come back and marry me. If you fail, I’ll come and marry you.” Five years later, Seraphina Vereen returned to Veridia City, a titan of industry with three publicly traded companies at her back. In front of a wall of flashing cameras, she made her grand announcement: “Landon Shaw and I terminated our engagement five years ago.” 1 In those five years, another man had been by her side. A man who gave her a shoulder to lean on when she was exhausted, who comforted her when she was broken, who applauded her triumphs. They had weathered the storm together, a perfect match born from hardship and mutual devotion. And the man who had staked a hundred million on her comeback? He was now the city’s biggest joke. “This is three hundred million. Consider my debt of gratitude repaid.” The Seraphina who stood before me now was a world away from the girl I once knew. The youthful innocence was gone, replaced by a cool, commanding confidence. She was a powerhouse, radiating an almost dangerous allure. It was that allure that had first captivated me, making me defy my own father to back her when she had nothing. Even now, a single glance was enough to ignite a possessive fire within me. I picked up the credit card she’d placed on the table and handed it to my assistant behind me. My face was a blank mask, my voice devoid of warmth. “Check the balance. I want every last cent.” Sera watched the assistant take the card, letting out a long sigh as if a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders. I observed her subtle shift in expression and chuckled, a low, careless sound. “You think that makes us even?” Her spine straightened, her expression turning serious. “Mr. Shaw, if you ever need anything in the future, you have only to ask. I, Seraphina Vereen, will not refuse.” She paused, then added with deliberate weight, “Anything but marriage.” She said it with such earnest gravity, playing the part of the honorable debtor. I wasn’t buying it. “That watch you won at the auction yesterday,” I said, my tone casual. “I like it. Have it on my desk by morning.” She’d paid a fortune for that timepiece. It was a one-of-a-kind, a global exclusive she had reportedly bought for her fiancé, Leo Price. I wondered what a certain someone might think if it suddenly appeared on my wrist. Seeing her hesitate, I rose from my chair and headed for the stairs, not bothering to look back. “If a CEO’s word means nothing, then just consider my request a joke.” The next day, the watch was on my desk. I held it up, admiring the intricate craftsmanship. A masterpiece of engineering, worth a king’s ransom. It would pair perfectly with my custom suit for the evening’s gala. Sera arrived with Leo on her arm. I, of course, was alone. The whispers started almost immediately, growing louder as the night wore on. Everyone was buzzing, wondering why the engagement gift she’d bought for her fiancé was now gracing my wrist. Eventually, the fiancé in question made his way toward me, a practiced smile on his face. “Mr. Shaw,” Leo began, his tone smooth. “Sera explained everything. The watch was a gesture of her gratitude.” I took a slow sip of my champagne and turned away, dismissing him. He wasn't worth my time. But he persisted, a new, sharper edge to his voice. “I guess all that money can’t buy you the first thing about how to love someone, can it? Otherwise, Sera would never have chosen me.” I looked at the half-empty glass in my hand and decided it wasn't nearly satisfying enough. I reached for a slice of cake from a nearby table, and with a flick of my wrist, I smashed it directly into his smug, smiling face. A collective gasp rippled through the room, all eyes turning to us. Sera was at his side in an instant, pulling a handkerchief from her purse to wipe the cream from his stunned face. Her voice was sharp with accusation as she turned on me. “What do you think you’re doing, Mr. Shaw? Why are you tormenting my fiancé?” I dropped the empty cake plate, wiped my fingers with a napkin, and shrugged. “He was ruining my appetite.” Leo adopted a look of pained forbearance, a masterclass in male fragility. “I was just telling Mr. Shaw that I don’t mind him taking my watch,” he said to the onlookers, his voice trembling slightly. “As long as it helps him feel better, I’ll do anything.” That was all it took. My arch-rival, Ryder Thorne, who was lounging nearby, chimed in with performative outrage. “There goes Landon Shaw again, throwing his weight around. Thinks his family’s money gives him the right to take whatever he wants.” A chorus of condemnation followed as others joined in, painting me as the arrogant, spoiled heir everyone loved to hate. Through it all, I maintained a polite, detached smile, my eyes locked on Sera’s. Her gaze was a dark, unreadable storm. After a long, tense moment, she finally said, “Let’s go.” She took Leo’s hand and led him away. The sight of their retreating backs was like a thorn in my eye. We were engaged at eighteen. The Sera I knew then was sweet and innocent. A careless joke from me was enough to make a delicate blush bloom across her fair cheeks. I loved to tease her, the way a man loves to fluster a woman he desires. The day her family’s company collapsed, it was as if she grew up overnight. Her gaze became steel, her entire being radiating an unbreakable defiance. I knew she would succeed. I just forgot that once she did, she might not remember the promise she’d made to me. Do I regret it? I never do anything I regret. I was the one who lifted her up. I can be the one to drag her back into the mud. 2 From that night on, wherever Seraphina Vereen appeared, I was sure to be there. If she bid on a parcel of land, I doubled her offer. If she competed for a contract, I undercut her by half. When it came to a war of wealth, she was still an amateur. While she was struggling to turn her hundred million into something in some forgotten corner of the country, I was already the undisputed king of Veridia City. Finally, she broke. She came to my office alone, ready to surrender. She stood before me, tears shimmering in her eyes, but her gaze was as defiant as ever. “This isn't doing you any favors, Mr. Shaw. Even the Shaw fortune has its limits. You can't keep burning money like this.” So, she was here to lecture me. I glanced past her shoulder toward the empty doorway. “Where’s your fiancé?” I asked, my voice flat. “Isn’t he going to apologize?” Her full, red lips pressed into a thin line. She lowered her gaze, her voice laced with forced sincerity. “I apologize on his behalf for what happened that night.” Then, her tone shifted. “However, you were the one who resorted to violence first. Regardless of the circumstances, both sides share the blame.” Fine. So much for an apology. A smirk played on my lips. I leaned back, feigning regret. “I admit, I was too soft on him. You’d better tell him to stay far away from me. Next time, it won’t be just a piece of cake.” Seeing that I was immovable, Sera dropped the pretense of compromise. Her face darkened. “If you refuse to leave my fiancé alone, then there’s nothing more to discuss. I’ll see you on the battlefield.” I leaned back on the sofa, crossing one leg over the other, the very picture of arrogant power. “Excellent. I’ll be waiting.” After leaving my office, Sera began reaching out to industry leaders, trying to forge new alliances. But in Veridia, all it took was one word from me, and no one dared to work with her. On top of that, the Vereen collapse had entangled many powerful figures. Besides me, plenty of people wanted to see her fail. What I hadn’t anticipated was that her fiancé, Leo, was an influencer with millions of followers. He posted a video online, a tearful tirade accusing me of monopolistic practices and deliberately targeting Sera. He spun a sob story about their struggles, painting them as victims and himself as a devoted hero. It struck a chord with his audience, and sympathy for them poured in. My assistant showed me the video. I just laughed. I pulled out my phone and dialed Sera’s number. “That video your fiancé posted. You have two minutes to take it down.” “Everything Leo said is the truth,” she replied, her voice steady. “The truth?” My voice turned to ice. “Are you really prepared to sacrifice the last shred of your dignity?” There was a long silence on the other end. “I’ll have him delete it.” Only a handful of insiders knew about the hundred million I’d given her. If that story got out, she would be the one humiliated. She was a businesswoman, after all. When it came to a cost-benefit analysis, what was a fiancé? 3 Stella Monroe and I grew up together. The night I got engaged to Sera, they say she cried all night. The day the Vereen empire fell, she spent millions on a city-wide fireworks display that lasted until dawn. “It wasn’t for you,” she’d insisted. “I just really, really hate Seraphina Vereen.” It was why we got along so well, and also why we could never stand each other. That night, she invited me to a club to blow off some steam. She’d thoughtfully arranged for eight women to join us—every type imaginable. After a few glasses of whiskey, my true colors came out. I had a sultry vixen on my left and a sweet-faced college girl on my right. Life was good. The door to our private room swung open. Through a drunken haze, I thought I saw Sera’s furious face. No, it was her. “Who invited the party-pooper?” I grumbled. Stella, snuggled up beside me, adjusted the collar of my shirt with a triumphant smirk. “I did. We were short a bartender.” I glanced at her, confused. But Stella was already calling out to the woman in the doorway. “Well? Don’t just stand there. Come pour us some drinks.” She leaned in and whispered in my ear, “She needs a favor from my father for a new project. She wouldn’t dare disobey me.” So, this was about humiliating Sera. A way to get back at her on my behalf? I suppose I could see it that way. While I was processing this, Sera had already picked up a bottle. She knelt before me, her movements fluid and precise, and filled my empty glass. Grace under pressure. Those were the words that came to mind. The shifting, colored lights played across her face, highlighting its cold, fractured beauty. Her eyes were a placid lake, betraying nothing. Even in this position, she radiated an untouchable pride. I deliberately knocked over my glass. The amber liquid spilled across the front of her pristine white blouse. A flicker of annoyance crossed her features, her brow furrowed for a fraction of a second. “Oops,” I said. “Be a dear and pour another.” The rise and fall of her chest, the way she bit her lower lip—every subtle sign betrayed the fury she was holding back. I took the refilled glass and downed the fiery liquor in one gulp. It burned. I grabbed the collar of her blouse and yanked her toward me. Our faces were inches apart. I could feel her warm breath on my skin. I lunged forward. She instinctively jerked her head to the side. The move infuriated me. I grabbed her chin, forced her to face me, and crushed my lips against hers. Sera struggled violently, shoving me away. She scrambled to her feet, the whiskey bottle still in her hand. With a cry of rage, she smashed it on the floor. Shards of glass flew, one slicing a thin, red line across her bare calf. “I’ve paid you back,” she hissed, her voice trembling. “To keep humiliating me like this… it’s too much.” “Too much?” I glanced at Stella. Stella shook her head immediately. “Of course not. If you hadn’t helped her back then, who knows what gutter she’d be begging in right now.” My gaze returned to Sera. “You hear that? You owe me more than just money. You owe me everything.” 4 Sera said nothing. She turned to leave, dragging her bleeding leg behind her. Stella’s bodyguards blocked the door, making it clear she wasn’t going anywhere. Just then, there was a commotion outside. The door burst open, and Leo rushed in. Perfect timing. He planted himself in front of Sera, the valiant knight protecting his princess. “If you lay a single finger on her, I swear I’ll make you pay.” I looked at this man, so full of himself, so utterly clueless, and I burst out laughing. I took two steps forward until I was standing right in front of him. I reached out and patted his cheek lightly. Once. Twice. As my hand came up for a third time, Sera’s fingers clamped around my wrist. “Landon, don’t push it,” she warned, her eyes blazing with a murderous light. I turned to Stella, feigning innocence. “Am I pushing it?” Stella shook her head. “Not at all. She’s the one who stole your woman, after all.” So, that made me the victim here. One was my fiancée, with whom I had yet to officially break our engagement. The other was the man my fiancée called her fiancé. It was a beautiful, twisted mess. “Sera, don’t forget, our engagement is still legally binding,” I said, my voice dangerously soft. “For you to publicly claim this man is your fiancé… don’t you think that’s pushing it?” The fire in her eyes dimmed. “Our engagement ended five years ago.” She looked up, meeting my gaze directly. “You didn’t know, did you? Your father had a hand in my family’s downfall.” I refused to believe it. “Then why didn’t he stop me from helping you?” A bitter, quiet laugh escaped her. “It was just a game to him. A cat chasing a mouse. Your family is all the same. Aren’t you just waiting for the right moment to drag me back into the mud?” I was speechless. Because she was right. In the end, it came to blows. I sat on the sofa, a cold spectator to the drama. I watched as Stella’s bodyguards beat Leo to the ground. I saw the blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, the gash that opened on his forehead. Sera was shielded beneath him, her voice a desperate cry of “Stop! Stop hitting him!” They carried Leo out. Stella, in a fit of mock charity, had them sent to the hospital. As they were leaving, Sera shot one last look in my direction. Our eyes met, and for a heart-stopping moment, I felt it again—that old spark. The shattered look in her eyes, the mess of her hair… it all pulled at something deep inside me. I wanted to be the one protecting her. All these years, she had buried her vulnerability, showing the world only a shell of unyielding strength. I wanted to find the girl who had once made my heart race. I refused to believe she was truly gone. It was the ghost of that youthful infatuation that fueled my relentless obsession. A few days later, that obsession curdled into pure, unadulterated rage. In an interview, Sera stated unequivocally: “My engagement to Landon Shaw was terminated five years ago.” Reporters camped outside my house, hungry for my side of the story. My side was simple: “Seraphina Vereen took a hundred million from me to rebuild her empire, and then she dumped me.” Half an hour later, headlines screaming about the ungrateful heiress and her boy-toy lover were everywhere. In response, Leo posted a video of Sera’s injured leg, claiming I had a violent temper, that I was emotionally unstable, that I was mentally ill. He even produced a forged therapist's diagnosis to “prove” I’d been seeing a psychiatrist. The war between us had just begun. I donned a custom suit and attended my company’s new product launch, a serene smile plastered on my face. When reporters asked about my personal life, I deflected every question. “Please, let’s focus on the new product line.” “Miss Vereen? I’m not familiar with her.” “Mr. Price? The name doesn’t ring a bell.” The media went from salivating over the gossip to utter confusion. A mental breakdown? Just days ago, we were at each other’s throats, and now I didn’t know them? My bizarre behavior only fueled their curiosity, driving even more attention to the launch. The new product needed buzz to sell. Now, not only had I saved on marketing costs, but I had also turned myself into a brand. In a VVVVIP room at a private hospital, Sera was resting in bed, her calf wrapped in bandages, watching the news. I sat beside her, quietly peeling an apple. I managed to get the peel off in one long, unbroken spiral. A strange sense of accomplishment washed over me. I held the apple out to her. “Eat.” She smiled at me, a genuine warmth in her eyes. “You have it.” I pulled my hand back and took a huge, crunchy bite. Then I offered it to her again. “It’s crisp and sweet. Go on.” She took it with an amused, exasperated sigh. Just then, we heard a commotion outside the door. It was Leo. “Let me in! I need to see how Sera is!” A guard’s deep voice rumbled, “Mr. Shaw’s orders. No one is allowed inside.” “I’m her fiancé!” Leo protested. “Who the hell is Landon Shaw to keep me from seeing my own fiancée?” Hearing his voice, Sera put the apple down. I glanced toward the door. “Sera, your hired actor is really getting into character.” Her expression was neutral. “I’ll handle it.” The louder our public war, the more our enemies would believe she was truly alone in Veridia. The Vereen collapse had been a web of conspiracy, and my own family was tangled in it. For Sera to return alone was a gamble of the highest stakes. She had to find the ones who framed her family, which meant walking directly into the trap they’d set and waiting for them to reveal themselves. I was a Shaw. I was also her fiancé. And I was the one who had financed her return. By playing the role of her greatest enemy, I was giving her the greatest protection.
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