On the day Salma Gibson was kidnapped, her fiancé was marrying his first love.

The phone rang several times before Tyson McMillan answered with a deep voice, "What do you want?"

Salma trembled in fear. "Tyson, I... I've been kidnapped. They're demanding five million dollars. Can you ... come rescue me?"

A pause came from Tyson's end.

His voice turned even colder.

"Salma, I told you Sylvia is sick. This wedding is her final wish. Stop making trouble!"

So, their wedding was today...

Sylvia Clayton was Tyson's first love.

But she was terminally ill.

Her last wish was to hold a wedding with Tyson, the man she loved.

When Salma first learned Tyson agreed, she protested fiercely.

Now she shook her head frantically. "I'm not making a fuss this time... Please believe me!"

Tyson's voice held no warmth, only icy detachment.

"Salma, you'll still be Mrs. McMillan. Why can't you understand? My patience has limits. You've crossed the line."

"Tyson, don't you care if I live or die?" Salma clenched her teeth. "If you don't come to rescue me, we're through!"

Tyson frowned, thinking, "Is she threatening me with a breakup again? Salma, why can't you just knock it off?"

His patience had run out.

The kidnapper impatiently snatched the phone away. "Mr. McMillan, you don't seem to care about this woman. Five million dollars is pocket change to you. Pay up or not!"

In the church, Tyson stood tall in his pristine white suit, phone in hand.

Sylvia faced him in her wedding dress as ocean breezes swept through the open doors.

The moved audience watched the beautiful ceremony unfold below.

Tyson responded coldly, "No."

The kidnapper was stunned.

They should have kidnapped Tyson's first love instead. She'd have been worth more!

Sylvia's fragile voice came through the phone, "Tyson, I'm truly grateful you fulfilled my final dream with this wedding. Even if it's just pretend, these memories will last me a lifetime. But if Salma resorted to kidnapping to keep you away... maybe we should call this off."

"Sylvia, I promised you, and I'll see it through."

Frustrated, the kidnapper threatened, "Tyson, aren't you worried we'll sell your beautiful fiancée?"

"Do whatever you want," Tyson said disdainfully. "That would solve my problem."

Hearing this, Salma forced back her tears.

For five years she'd devoted herself to Tyson, loving him unconditionally, indulging his every whim, believing she'd finally win him over.

Yet the moment Sylvia returned ill from abroad, all her efforts were in vain.

Now came the cruelest joke: Tyson was giving Sylvia the grand wedding Salma had always wanted.

The kidnapper bared his teeth in a grin when he heard Tyson's words. "Alright, if you say so, don't blame us!"

He ended the call immediately.

The kidnapper had long been tormented by Salma's innocent allure.

With a wicked chuckle, he said, "Ms. Gibson, there's no way around it. Blame your fiancé. He's forcing our hand here."

He shoved a pill into Salma's mouth, making her swallow it.

***

At the church, Tyson suppressed his growing unease.

This wasn't Salma's first dramatic stunt.

She'd always disliked Sylvia, harboring intense hostility toward her.

When she learned about his pretend wedding with Sylvia, she'd given him the silent treatment for days.

Now she'd escalated to a kidnapping threat.

Such reckless behavior showed he'd been too lenient with her these years.

After this affair with Sylvia concluded, if Salma apologized properly, he might consider throwing her an even grander wedding.

Sylvia observed Tyson's troubled expression after the call.

In her delicate voice, she said, "Tyson, I'm so sorry. This is happening because of me."

"It's not your fault," Tyson replied calmly.

"Should we continue then?" Sylvia asked with innocent eyes.

After a pause, Tyson answered, "We continue."

Hearing this, Sylvia allowed a sly smile to creep across her lips.

"Salma," she thought, "I told you you'd never outplay me."

***

Salma stared at the disconnected phone, feeling devastated as if her heart had been brutally stabbed.

Any last hope she'd clung to for Tyson evaporated completely.

Determined to save herself, Salma discreetly grabbed the fruit knife the kidnapper had left on the floor when forcing the pill on her.

Seizing her moment, she suddenly stabbed the blade into her captor's body and bolted toward the warehouse door.

"Damn it!" the kidnapper cursed furiously. "Chase after her! Don't let her escape!"

As the drug's effects began to kick in slowly, Salma fought against the rising heat in her body.

She ran desperately toward the main road, not even stopping to retrieve her lost shoe.

The pursuing footsteps closed in behind her, making her heart pound violently.

This desolate area offered no help or witnesses.

Suddenly, a black Porsche, one of the limited-edition models, came speeding down the road.

Salma didn't hesitate for even a second.

Being hit by a car seemed preferable to what those three men would do to her.

She closed her eyes and threw herself in front of the vehicle.

The Porsche screeched to a halt, stopping just centimeters from Salma's body.

The impact still sent her slender frame crashing onto the road.

Moments later, the car door opened.

The man took measured steps forward in his sleek black leather shoes, his tailored dress pants accentuating his long, straight legs.

He came to a stop before her, then slowly crouched down to her level.

When Salma saw his face, her heart skipped a beat. "It's...you?"

It was Rafael Davila, heir to the Davila Group.

If the McMillan Group represented by Tyson ranked among Lechester's top three conglomerates, the Davila Group undoubtedly held the number one position.

Starting with banking and finance, the Davila Group rapidly expanded into real estate, technology, telecommunications, investment funds, and others.

The Davilas had stakes in half of Lechester's economy.

In private circles, everyone called Rafael "the Prince of Lechester".

Salma had met him once before when the Gibson family needed the Davila Group's approval for a recent project bid.

As one of the Gibson projects leads, she'd been part of those negotiations.

At this moment, Salma was beyond caring about her disheveled state.

With the last shred of her fading consciousness, she reached out and grasped his tailored pants.

"Rafael... please... help me."

Rafael's eyes darkened when he saw Salma lying on the ground.

Her blue-white dress was torn and soiled, revealing slender and shapely legs, with her delicate feet cut and bleeding.

At the sight of her unnaturally flushed face, Rafael's brow furrowed deeply.

Without a word, he scooped her up in his arms.

Salma felt enveloped by his crisp pine scent, both cool and reassuring.

Rafael deposited her in the passenger seat and shut the door.

Leaning casually against the car, he methodically rolled up his sleeves and removed his multimillion-dollar wristwatch.

As three burly kidnappers approached, he asked, "Did you drug her?"

His deep, cold voice was not loud, but it sent chills down one's spine.

Ten minutes later, Rafael slid into the driver's seat and stripped off his bloodstained black shirt, tossing it out the window.

His upper body was slender and toned, the sexy contours narrowing to a flat, narrow waist before vanishing into his black suit pants.

Salma in the passenger seat kept her eyes closed, her forehead glistening with sweat, her red lips tightly clenched.

Rafael studied her intently with deep eyes for a moment before pulling out his phone to make a call. "Get to the Northern Suburb villa in thirty minutes. Bring medical supplies."

On the other end was Gavyn Owens, director of Lechester's largest private hospital and Rafael's childhood friend.

"Come on," Gavyn complained, "even if I speed, it's a two-hour drive from Lechester to the Northern Suburb. Do I look like I have a magic door?"

Rafael's lips curled into a casual smile. "Is your private jet just for decoration?"

Gavyn fell silent.

Who was so important that he needed to fly over immediately to rescue?

Was he the rumored doctor who was always at the beck and call of the CEO?

After hanging up, Rafael gripped the steering wheel and made a U-turn.

The Porsche sped through the wilderness like lightning once more.

Soon, the car pulled up to an opulent white beachfront villa.

No sooner had Rafael parked than a warm, fragrant body pressed against him.

Salma gazed at him with hazy eyes as waves of dizziness overwhelmed her.

Overcome with heat, she had slipped one strap of her dress down her arm, exposing a pale, rounded shoulder.

She climbed over the console to straddle him, her delicate fingers tracing across his chest.

The Porsche's driver seat offered limited space, now filled with palpable tension.

Rafael's Adam's apple bobbed. He wrapped one arm around Salma's slender waist and gripped her chin with his other hand, forcing her to meet his deep gaze.

His voice came out unusually hoarse. "Salma, do you know who I am?"

By now, Salma's vision had blurred though she retained some awareness.

She smiled coquettishly, her upturned eyes exuding seduction.

She looked tempting, like a ripe peach waiting to be plucked and tasted.

She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, her face nuzzling against him restlessly.

"Rafael," she murmured. "I'm so hot. I can't take it anymore. Help me, please."

Her rosy mouth brushed against his Adam's apple before trailing upward to press against his lips in a clumsy but effective kiss that ignited his physical response.

Rafael's burning gaze stared at the desire-flushed woman before him, mixed emotions in his eyes.

His warm hand slid along her smooth back, gently soothing her.

"Salma, are you sure you won't regret it?"

He wasn't known for being a good man.

Salma shook her head insistently. "No regrets. I want Tyson to regret it!"

Rafael arched an eyebrow. "Oh? Is someone else still on your mind?"

He felt Salma stiffen when his hand stilled its movements, her body now thrumming with frustrated need.

Salma gazed at him with sorrowful resentment, her lips slightly pursed and eyes misty. "No, no one... There never will be anyone."

Tyson no longer held any place in her heart.

Rafael continued stroking her with his large hand, his eyebrows arching as he spoke in a mesmerizing tone, "Beg me."

Desperate for relief from the burning desire but unsure how to proceed, Salma felt Rafael was toying with her cruelly.

Her eyes shone with fragile pleading, utterly vulnerable and pitiful.

"Rafael, please," she begged. "Take me."

A smile curved Rafael's lips as he rewarded her with a kiss, murmuring, "Good girl."

Encouraged, Salma instinctively licked her dry lips before leaning close to his ear, her sweet breath fanning his skin. "I want to give you my first time."

Rafael's eyes flashed with sudden intensity, his smirk turning wicked. "Fine. I'll grant your wish."

He swiftly took control, gripping the nape of her neck as he captured her lips again.

Gone was the earlier gentleness, his kiss turned fierce and demanding, plundering her mouth with relentless hunger.

Salma felt herself drowning in sensation, surrendering completely as she pressed closer.

A surge of heat shot through Rafael's veins, shattering his usual composure.

Within moments, their clothes were scattered around the confined space of the car.

Against the tinted windows, their entwined figures moved as one.

***

Several hours later, Rafael stared at the bloodstains on her blue dress, his eyes deepening.

He carefully picked up Salma and covered her completely with his suit jacket before carrying her into the villa directly to the bedroom.

After satisfying his physical needs, Rafael showed unexpected patience as he gently washed her and dried her hair.

He then carried her to bed and tucked her in under the silk blanket.

In the living room, Gavyn lounged lazily on the sofa, flipping idly through a magazine he'd picked up from the table.

When Rafael emerged from the bedroom wearing a printed shirt with two buttons undone at the collar, the cherry-red lipstick marks on his collarbone were clearly visible.

Gavyn adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses and checked the time. It was nearly 10 PM.

He had been waiting for this privileged heir for five hours.

The sheer intensity and duration of their activities were frankly ridiculous.

With a wry smile, Gavyn remarked, "Good thing we're in this remote resort area, man. If anyone had seen your million-dollar luxury car rocking nonstop for hours, they'd have thought we were having an earthquake."

Rafael shot Gavyn a cold glance.

He walked to the living room, took a whiskey bottle from the rack, and poured a full glass. He downed it in one go.

The burn of strong liquor finally snapped him out of the lingering warmth and sweetness of the night.

Gavyn clicked his tongue in amusement.

"Looks like someone got properly satisfied. The medicine I brought is now useless, it seems?

"So, the untouchable ascetic finally fallen to mortal desires? Who's the lucky temptress?"

Gavyn was burning with curiosity.

Rafael was known in the business circle as cold-hearted, ruthless, and decisive.

But his private life differed from their usual crowd.

Gavyn and other friends unwound by drinks and flirting with starlets, occasionally paying for girls to spend the night.

Rafael preferred more thrilling pursuits like car racing, surfing, skydiving, and boxing.

He considered women too much trouble.

Gavyn assumed Rafael wouldn't answer. Rafael set his empty glass on the counter and said casually, "Salma Gibson."

Gavyn froze in surprise when he realized who it was.

Salma had become quite famous in high society circles recently, not because of her family background, but because she was Tyson's fiancée.

Tyson happened to be Rafael's biggest business rival.

Though both came from plutocratic families, they moved in different social circles.

Recently, Tyson made headlines by throwing an extravagant wedding for his first love Sylvia, publicly humiliating his actual fiancée Salma and turning her into a laughingstock.

Even Gavyn had heard the gossip.

"Rafael," Gavyn couldn't help asking, "you're not just playing with Tyson's woman to spite him, are you? If that were the case, shouldn't you go after Sylvia instead? Salma seems rather ... discarded these days."

Rafael shot him a piercing glare that intimidated Gavyn.

"That punk Tyson isn't worth my effort," Rafael sneered.

"Of course, Tyson isn't worth it," Gavyn chuckled nervously. "But since Salma is his fiancée, and you're with her now, the situation seems..."

He trailed off, not daring to voice the obvious implication that Rafael would essentially be the other man.

Rafael narrowed his eyes. "You've become quite eloquent."

Gavyn swallowed hard, suddenly worried his tongue might be in danger.

"Get lost before I remove that tongue of yours," Rafael threatened.

Rafael got mad because Gavyn got it right.

Gavyn didn't just leave; he practically flew out of there.

Moments later, a private jet could be seen ascending rapidly into the sky.

***

After several exhausting hours, the drug's effects had finally worn off.

Salma woke to the deafening roar of helicopter blades, her body aching all over.

She rubbed her bleary eyes and slowly sat up, the silk blanket sliding down to reveal pale skin marked with vivid traces of passion.

Memories of their intense encounter came flooding back.

She had actually slept with Rafael.

Worse yet, she had initiated it.

Salma's face turned red in an instant.

She didn't know how to deal with this situation.

Suddenly, the bedroom door creaked open.

Salma instinctively lay back down and pulled the blanket up to her chin, her fingers clutching the sheet's edge.

Heavy footsteps approached the bed.

She held her breath, her eyelashes fluttering and toes curling even with her eyes shut closed.

Even with her eyes closed, she could feel the intense, deep gaze of the man on her.

Just as she felt she might suffocate from tension, his casual, deep voice broke the silence. "Ms. Gibson, we slept together. Are you trying to pretend nothing had happened?"

Salma cautiously opened her bright, beautiful eyes to see Rafael towering by the bedside, arms crossed.

Those deep eyes gazed down at her casually.

This was her first time studying him so closely while sober.

He wore a printed shirt, the top buttons undone to reveal a tantalizing collarbone, his posture lazy yet restrained.

His short hair framed a handsome face with deep-set eyes and a sharp nose.

Unlike Tyson's cold aura, Rafael's narrow, upturned eyes held a hint of mischief when he smiled.

Salma sat up clutching the blanket, her voice trembling with guilt. "Rafael, I... I didn't mean to. Someone drugged me. That's why I... How can I make this up to you?"

She had somehow slept with Rafael, the prince of Lechester.

Even she couldn't believe what had happened.

Rafael raised an eyebrow as he studied the petite woman in his bed.

Salma's wavy hair cascaded around her, framing her delicate face. Her clear, bright eyes showed a hint of regret.

She was beautiful, her fair skin now marked with visible traces of their passionate encounter.

His eyes darkened slightly as he responded in a lazy drawl, "How exactly do you plan to make it up to me?"

Salma softly asked, "How about I treat you to dinner?"

Rafael lifted his eyelids. "Do I look like I need your meal?"

Salma bit her lip. She truly couldn't think of anything she could offer Rafael that would matter.

Any attempt at repayment would be inconsequential to the Davila family, the wealthiest with billions in assets in Lechester.

Salma lifted her eyes. "Then, could you give me a hint?"

This was her first time sleeping with anyone, and she had no idea what the proper protocol was.

If this had been with anyone other than Lechester's top socialite, she would have been the one at a disadvantage.

Her virginity was gone, and to make matters worse, she had been the aggressor with the most sought-after socialite in town.

By all accounts, she had come out ahead in this situation.

Rafael leaned down slightly, lifting her chin with his fingers.

Their gazes locked.

Rafael's lips curved slightly as he murmured, "Salma, I just satisfied you. Now it's your turn to satisfy me as compensation."

Salma's mind went completely blank.

While under the drug influence earlier, she had boldly indulged her desires.

But now she was fully sober, and the thought terrified her.

Rafael didn't give her time to think.

His hands closed around her slender waist as he lowered his head and captured her lips, savoring their sweetness.

Salma's loosely tied robe slipped open, revealing her pale collarbone.

Rafael trailed kisses along her delicate features, her eyebrows, lips, and flushed cheeks before finally capturing her shell-like earlobe between his teeth.

His ragged breath burned against her ear, and Salma couldn't restrain herself from moaning.

Though completely sober, the taste of alcohol on Rafael's lips and his intoxicating masculine scent threatened to overwhelm her completely.

Salma's mind drifted to Tyson's last birthday, which she had anticipated for weeks.

She had baked him a cake herself and planned to give him her virginity that night.

Wearing a sexy black V-neck mini dress, she waited in vain when Tyson inevitably canceled at the last minute because Sylvia had another "episode".

Salma spent the night crying over the uneaten cake, the dress becoming the most ironic item.

She eventually threw it away in some forgotten corner.

Even now, the memory made her heart ache with regret for her naive devotion.

Suddenly, a sharp pain at her earlobe made her eyes snap open.

Rafael's lips moved away from her ear, and he hovered above her, his deep eyes studying her face. "Distracted?"

The simple word filled her with dread.

She had been thinking about Tyson while intimate with Rafael.

This was something no man would tolerate.

"Looks like I'm not charming enough to captivate you, Ms. Gibson," Rafael remarked, his tone unreadable.

Fear gripped Salma as she remembered his notorious reputation for cruelty.

"I didn't mean to," she stammered in apology.

Rafael's lips curved into a dangerous smile. "No matter," he said.

Salma let out a sigh of relief. Immediately after, he flipped their positions, lifting her soft body atop his own.

His warm lips brushed her ear as he issued a punishing command laced with danger. "This time, you take the lead."

Salma stammered with shock, "W-what?"

Her cheeks were burned crimson in embarrassment.

With only the knowledge from a few hours ago, what was she supposed to do? And How?

She wished to watch some related videos to pick up something in this regard.

Rafael watched as shyness burned across Salma's face like wildfire, her skin tinged with layers of crimson.

Her bright eyes flickered between embarrassment and frustration, too timid to lash out.

That adorable, flustered display inexplicably pleased him.

Rafael arched his brow.

His gaze locked onto her plump, tempting lips, his deep eyes smoldering.

"Salma," Rafael murmured, his voice thick with desire, "kiss me."

The intensity of his stare left Salma parched and feverish.

Those two simple yet commanding words "kiss me" echoed in her mind.

In that moment, clarity struck.

Since Tyson could abandon her for Sylvia's sake, why shouldn't she indulge herself? Why should she hold back for him?

And Rafael was undeniably exceptional.

With his striking features, sculpted physique, and formidable virility, half of Lechester's female socialites would kill for his attention.

Most importantly, he was in no way inferior to Tyson!

Salma would definitely not be at a disadvantage to sleep with him.

She took a deep breath and lowered her head, mimicking how he had kissed her as she pressed her lips against his.

Rafael felt her warm breath against his skin, his own breathing growing heavier.

Salma trailed kisses downward, lingering at his Adam's apple before moving lower, her lips brushing lightly over his collarbone.

Rafael's breath turned ragged, his Adam's apple throbbing, especially evident in the quiet of the night.

Salma heard it, and a tingling sensation swept through her entire body.

Her body trembled slightly, and she felt her heartbeat race just from kissing him.

In an instant, he flipped her onto her back, pinning her slender wrists above her head as he loomed over her once more.

He caught her rosy lip between his teeth, his voice rough with desire. "You're a quick learner, little temptress."

Then he kissed her again until her entire body burned.

She tried to pull away, but his grip held her firmly in place, trapped against the headboard.

Helpless moaning escaped her. Whether from lingering effects of the drug or sheer want, she wasn't sure. She wanted more.

At this moment, nothing else existed.

The air hung heavy with desire as their entangled shadows danced through the night in reckless passion.

***

After the church wedding, Tyson accompanied Sylvia back to Lechester Hospital to rest.

Her VIP suite was on the top floor, with Tyson having prepaid a full year's treatment.

Her attending physician George administered a sedative before stepping out to update Tyson in the hallway.

"Sylvia's remained emotionally stable lately, and her cardiac condition shows steady improvement," he said. "If this continues, we might even extend her life expectancy."

Tyson gave a nod.

Noting his fatigue, George withheld further comments and departed.

Tyson pushed open the ward door and walked in.

Sylvia, unlike her usual self, hadn't changed back into her regular hospital gown.

She was reclining on the bed in a black lace dress.

She looked less innocent than usual and had a hint of coquettishness about her tonight.

Her eyes lit up when she saw Tyson enter.

He had changed out of his wedding attire into a white suit.

The hospital corridor lights cast a glow on his 1.85-meter frame, softening his sharp features into something more approachable in the dim illumination.

Had she never left Lechester and abandoned Tyson five years ago, Salma wouldn't stand a chance today.

The thought made Sylvia grit her teeth.

But that was OK. She knew her place in Tyson's heart remained unshakable, and today's wedding proved it.

And tonight, she had no intention of letting him leave.

Since her return, Tyson had been exceptionally doting and indulgent toward Sylvia.

But he had never crossed certain boundaries.

This restraint left her feeling unsettled.

She was convinced that wretched Salma was the obstacle standing between them.

Extending her pale, slender hand toward the man at the doorway, Sylvia asked, "Tyson, could you stay with me tonight?"

Tyson's eyes remained inscrutable as he approached to adjust her blanket.

"The doctor said you need proper rest. I'll leave after you fall asleep."

A flicker of disappointment crossed Sylvia's eyes.

Though Tyson always stayed during her episodes, he inevitably left afterward.

Kneeling on the bed, her lace dress slipping to reveal delicate collarbones and cleavage, she reached for his belt.

"Tyson, you know what I want," she whispered meekly.

Tyson paused, his eyes darkening. "Sylvia, don't be unreasonable."

His measured tone made her flinch.

She knew his uncompromising nature all too well.

When she'd tested his patience before, expecting him to cajole her, she'd only driven him away.

This time, she wouldn't repeat the same foolish mistake.

With teary eyes, Sylvia looked up at Tyson. "I'm sorry. I was being foolish and greedy. I forgot you already have Salma."

Tyson's heart softened.

Salma loved him deeply, but her love burned intensely and stubbornly.

Sometimes it overwhelmed him, leaving him feeling suffocated.

Why couldn't she show him the same gentle tenderness Sylvia did?

Think of this, he reached out to stroke Sylvia's hair.

"Don't overthink it," he said softly. "Just rest."

***

After leaving the hospital, Tyson held his phone, which had been silent since the "kidnapping" call earlier in the day.

His growing irritation showed clearly on his face.

He got into his car and directed the driver to take him to Fernade Bar, Lechester's largest nightclub.

Upon arriving, Tyson walked straight to the VIP section without hesitation.

"Well, look who's here," Jerry Lloyd called out. "Shouldn't our groom be enjoying his wedding night? As they say, the wedding night is worth..."

Before Jerry could finish his words, Tyson's large hand smacked the back of his head.

"Ow! What was that for?" Jerry complained, rubbing his head.

Ignoring him, Tyson tossed his suit jacket aside and took a seat.

"Has Salma contacted any of you?" he asked abruptly.

Jerry scratched his head.

"No, is Salma still upset? It's been almost three days this time. That must be a new record! It never lasted more than one day in the past."

"But Tyson, all women are like this. Don't indulge her. She's trying to manipulate you into apologizing first. Remember the saying? Give in once, and you'll be doing it forever. Don't do that.

"No matter how badly you treated her during fights, she always came crawling back apologetically and asked you not to leave her.

"Besides, with her precarious position in the Gibson family, do you really think she'd dare leave you? They'd probably disown her if she did."

Tyson's expression eased slightly after hearing that.

He picked up his glass and took a sip, savoring the rich aroma.

Perhaps his unease came from how far Salma had taken things this time, even staging a kidnapping plot.

Lucas Glenn, drinking nearby, couldn't stay silent any longer.

Salma's devotion to Tyson could move anyone who witnessed it.

When Tyson suffered headaches, Salma traveled to the northwest and knelt for a whole day and night to beg a renowned physician to teach her special massage techniques just to ease his pain.

Since Tyson was picky about food, she studied culinary traditions from around the world to make his favorite dishes.

Even when Tyson's mother repeatedly insulted her, Salma endured the humiliation without complaint.

Only when Sylvia started causing trouble did Salma finally lose her temper, though she always eventually compromised because of her love for Tyson.

"Tyson," Lucas said, "you shouldn't listen to Jerry's nonsense. This time you've gone too far. Even if it's a fake wedding, your actions made Salma the laughingstock throughout Lechester.

"Besides, Sylvia's been having way too many episodes this year. She fell ill on your and Salma's anniversary. Your birthday, Salma's birthday, even on Easter and Independence Day, she's magically ill every time. You've spent every one of those occasions at her bedside. Any woman would get fed up.

"Salma may adore you now, but even the deepest love has its limits. Don't wait until she's gone to regret this."

"Women aren't worth regrets," Tyson scoffed.

Salma would leave him one day?

How could that possibly happen?

He had grown so accustomed to Salma's love and kindness over the years.

Still, Lucas' warning had made him realize something.

Women were prone to jealousy.

While this wedding fulfilled Sylvia's dying wish, it undoubtedly humiliated Salma.

Grabbing his jacket, Tyson stood up to leave.

"Leaving already, bro? You just got here. The night's still young," Jerry shouted behind him.

Tyson exited Fernade Bar and got into his Maybach.

He called his assistant Bryce Frye. "Have Chicville's wedding designer Luna Archer come to Lechester within two days to design Salma's wedding dress. Also, acquire all the jewelry from Chicville's upcoming auction."

That should impress Salma enough, he thought.

Back at the villa, Tyson tossed his jacket aside and stretched out on the couch.

A mild headache was coming on.

Thanks to Salma's regular massages over the past two years, these headaches had become rare.

Today's irritation must have triggered it.

With his eyes closed and his short hair falling across his face, his breathing grew heavier.

Yazmin, his maid, came from the kitchen with hangover soup and set it down on the table.

Tyson cast a glance at it. "What's this?"

"It's hangover soup. Ms. Gibson told me to prepare it for you whenever you drink."

Tyson rubbed his forehead and opened his eyes.

He stayed silent for a moment before saying, "You may leave."

He took a sip of the soup from the table and immediately spat it out in disgust.

It wasn't the right flavor.

Tyson was particular about food. Whenever Salma was around, she prepared everything for him personally.

Even something as simple as hangover soup had her unique touch when she made it.

He thought, "Fine. Salma, since you still had Yazmin make me hangover soup, I'll indulge your tantrum this time."

Tyson picked up his phone and dialed the familiar number.

This marked his first initiative to call Salma after their argument.

"The subscriber you have dialed is powered off," the automated voice announced.

She had turned off her phone.

Tyson's grip on the phone turned his knuckles white, a surge of anger rising inside him.

"Well played, Salma," he muttered.

She was playing hard to get again.

She had crossed the line this time.

Without hesitation, Tyson called Bryce, his voice tight with irritation. "Put the wedding dress arrangements on hold."

Bryce did as told.

***

The next morning, waves crashed against the shore as the white curtains of the villa's floor-to-ceiling windows fluttered in the breeze.

Rafael emerged from the bathroom bare-chested, a towel draped around his neck, water droplets glistening in his short hair.

When Salma woke up, this was the sight that greeted her, a strikingly handsome man fresh from the shower.

She froze for a moment, her gaze lingering unintentionally.

His toned, tanned chest and tall, sculpted frame exuded both restraint and raw appeal.

At this moment, Rafael looked less like a ruthless business tycoon and more like a dazzling male model from the entertainment industry.

Heat rushed to Salma's cheeks, her heartbeat quickening.

Flustered, she averted her eyes and stammered, "Why did you take a shower in the morning?"

Rafael casually towel-dried his hair, his eyes flickering with amusement at her reaction. "Since when are there rules about morning showers?"

"N-no, I mean, you should get dressed," Salma stammered.

Rafael's voice carried a refreshing hint of amusement as he remarked casually, "Ms. Gibson, you're being rather distant. Last night you seemed quite enthusiastic about touching me."

Salma found herself speechless.

How could he be so shameless!

What did he mean by "enthusiastic"?

Hadn't he been just as eager with his own exploration?

Her skin still bore the shocking evidence of his passion.

At the thought, the soreness in her waist and legs intensified.

She pinched her fingers, forcing herself to remain composed.

Though they'd been intimate, she and Rafael were essentially strangers.

This was probably what people nowadays called a one-night stand, passion at night, strangers again by day.

Thus, she shouldn't make a big deal out of it.

Rafael noticed Salma's downcast eyes, her expression hidden, but the raised brows showed something was on her mind.

He raised an eyebrow. "What? After one night together, you're already pretending we're strangers?"

He then tossed his used towel into the laundry basket and pulled on a plain white T-shirt.

Suddenly, sharp knocks sounded at the bedroom door.

When Rafael opened it, a maid stood outside holding some clothes. "Mr. Davila, the lady's clothes have arrived."

Rafael took them before the maid left.

Rafael returned to the bed and placed the clothes beside Salma with natural familiarity.

"Your dress from yesterday was ruined. These are for you to change into."

His freshly showered scent filled the space between them.

Salma's eyes caught on the black lingerie set resting atop the dress.

The realization that he'd touched them made her face burn.

Her toes curled involuntarily.

The man's overwhelming presence made her heart race erratically.

Was this normal after intimacy between adults?

Even with Tyson, her heart had never pounded so wildly.

Salma's mouth was dry as she tried to get back to the topic she wanted to discuss. "We were even last night!"

Rafael bent down slightly, tilted her chin with one hand, and looked into her clear eyes. "Is that so?"

Salma clutched the blanket while scooting backward. "I did you, and you did me. So, we're even now."

He shouldn't bother her about this anymore.

Rafael withdrew his hand, fingertips still warm from her skin.

Sliding one hand into his pocket, he towered over her, his eyes studying her intently.

"Get dressed. Breakfast is ready."

He turned and left without another word.

Only after he exited did Salma pick up the dress.

To her surprise, it was a form-fitting lavender dress embroidered with sprawling rose patterns. The high slit on the sides reached mid-thigh.

The luxurious silk fabric showed that it was expensive.

She rarely wore such bold, sensual styles.

Tyson had preferred her in simple, innocent outfits.

But she'd never actually liked those.

Shaking off the thoughts, she tossed the blanket aside, revealing pale skin marred by vivid marks, clear evidence of Rafael's roughness last night.

She dressed methodically.

The lingerie fit perfectly, which only annoyed her more.

How had Rafael guessed her size in one night?

Meanwhile, she only knew his willy was impressively big.

Salma fanned her flushed face, comforting herself with the thought that any woman would reminisce after sleeping with such an exceptional man.

Her reaction was perfectly normal.

She quickly got dressed, freshened up, and left the bedroom.

The villa's Z-shaped staircase required careful descent in the form-fitting dress.

As her footsteps echoed, Rafael looked up from his phone.

His eyes flickered with appreciation when he saw Salma.

His taste hadn't failed him.

Salma was tall and slender, with curly, long hair framing her delicate features. Her bright, clear eyes shone even without makeup, and her skin looked healthy and fair. The dress added an air of elegance and sophistication to her appearance.

Rafael lazily leaned back in his chair, rhythmically tapping the table with his knuckles, quietly watching her walk down.

He wondered how she'd react if she knew his current impulse to tear that dress from her body.

The thought curled his lips into a faint smile.

Uncomfortable under his intense gaze, Salma tugged at the hem of her dress.

The dress wasn't short, but the high side slit revealed glimpses of her slender, fair thighs as she walked.

"Is there something on my face?" she asked.

A rare gentleness flickered in Rafael's eyes. "You look nice in this dress."

Salma was no stranger to compliments.

She was very beautiful and often received praise from men.

But Rafael's simple "not bad" made her ears tinge with a barely noticeable blush.

The air seemed to carry a faint hint of intimacy.

***

The bright sunshine reflected off the sleek black Ferrari as it glided down the smooth road, scenery flashing past the windows like a reflection.

Salma had originally planned to call her own ride, but her phone was missing and she had no money.

She had no choice but to accept Rafael's offer for a ride back to Lechester.

Salma gave him the address, the Eve Estates.

This middle-class neighborhood was neither cheap nor luxurious, hardly fitting for the Gibson family heiress.

"You don't live with the Gibsons?" he asked casually.

"No," she replied simply, glancing at him before turning back to the window.

As they arrived at the complex and Salma moved to exit the car, Rafael caught her slender wrist with deliberate ease.

"You just leave like that?" he drawled, his tone carrying the intimate lilt of lovers parting.

They were at her doorstep. Shouldn't she go home?

Was she supposed to invite this privileged man upstairs for coffee?

"Thank you for rescuing me," she said instead.

When he remained silent, she hastily added, "I'll treat you to dinner sometime."

Remembering his status, she amended, "If you'd honor me with your presence."

Rafael tapped the steering wheel, his eyes fixed on her. He ignored her dinner invitation.

"Don't couples who have been intimate usually share a goodbye kiss when they part ways?" he murmured.

Salma felt uncomfortable hearing his words.

"Rafael, is this your usual post-date ritual?"

Rafael's deep eyes held careless amusement as he replied in a low voice, "I don't have women.

"But if you want to be my woman, Salma, I might consider it," he continued. "After all, we're quite compatible in that regard."

Salma forced a stiff smile. "I don't want to be your woman!"

She had already failed so miserably as Tyson's girlfriend.

Why would she be foolish enough to become Rafael's woman?

Rafael lowered his voice suggestively. "Is that so? You said something quite different last night," he teased. "You begged me to be gentle with..."

Before he could finish, Salma hastily covered his mouth with her slender hand.

Rafael's handsome eyebrows lifted as he chuckled, the vibration of his laughter transmitting through her palm.

With her small hand covering half his face, his deep eyes seemed to shimmer as they stared intently at her.

Salma's heart skipped a beat.

Salma lowered her eyes, avoiding Rafael's intense gaze as she withdrew her hand. "I-I should go now. Bye."

Without waiting for his response, she opened and slammed the passenger door shut before fleeing the scene.

Rafael watched her hurried retreat figure with an amused smirk.

His eyes followed her like a predator tracking its prey.

"Salma," he murmured to himself. "You've provoked me. You won't get away so easily."

Salma returned to her apartment, a modest two-bedroom unit spanning about 100 square meters with one bedroom and one study.

The space was cozy rather than luxurious, perfectly ordinary without floor-to-ceiling windows but featuring a small sunlit balcony overflowing with potted plants.

Tyson had always dismissed it as too small, refusing to visit and instead gifting her several villas to pressure her into relocating.

But Salma loved this place because this was her first property purchased entirely with her own hard-earned money.

She looked around and retrieved a large cardboard box from the storage room and systematically filled it with every gift Tyson had ever given her.

As she worked, she realized the box overflowed with five years' worth of accumulated tokens from their relationship.

Countless other expensive presents remained at his villas, unclaimed.

Sitting cross-legged on the floor, Salma stared at the collected items: a photo album documenting their time together, property deeds for several luxury estates, precious jewelry, and the engagement ring he'd given her.

Just the properties alone could fetch over 16 million dollars if sold.

There was a time when she'd believed her persistent devotion was finally melting Tyson's icy heart during those five years of chasing him.

That fragile hope was shattered completely when his first love Sylvia returned from abroad.

The outcome had been painfully predictable, proof that first loves never truly lose their power over people.

Salma intended to liquidate the properties, considering them as rightful compensation for her years of commitment to Tyson.

The next day, Salma went to a nearby mall to replace her lost phone and get a new SIM card.

She received a lot of messages right after she turned on the phone.

Before she could take a closer look, Yasmin Madden called her.

Yasmin was her birth mother.

Salma was slightly stunned before she answered.

Immediately, Yasmin's displeased voice came through.

"Seriously, Salma? What have you been up to these few days? You didn't answer your phone or reply to my messages. Both Keira and you are my daughters. Could you at least be half as sweet as her?"

Salma instinctively said, "I was kidnapped, so my phone..."

Yasmin sneered, "Kidnapped? Really? Do you have any idea how lame this excuse is? You sound so desperate wanting money from us. Are you really my birth daughter? It seems to me you're more like your adoptive mother."

Salma's heart ached.

Yasmin always said something like this to her when Yasmin was mad at her.

Salma was the real daughter of the Gibson family.

Before the Gibson family took her back, her name was Salma Kirk.

Twenty-three years ago, Yasmin gave birth to Salma at a private hospital.

Meanwhile, in a corner of the hospital, a nurse named Cora Beasley gave birth to Keira.

Keira was born with a congenital illness.

Cora knew she couldn't afford Keira's illness; what was worse, her husband, Aldo Kirk, was a gambler.

For the sake of Keira's well-being and happiness, Cora came up with an evil idea.

Taking advantage of her position as a nurse, she secretly switched Keira and Salma.

Keira and Salma's fates were therefore changed.

The Gibson family treated Keira with great care, seeing her as the apple of their eye.

Quit contrary, Cora always faced Salma with utter indifference and sometimes even gaslighted Salma.

Three years ago, Keira had a car accident. Her blood type didn't match that of her parents, so a DNA test was taken, which revealed the shocking secret.

No one in the Gibson family could accept the harsh truth.

And of course, they were reluctant to let go of Keira, whom they had pampered for twenty years.

In the end, they were forced to take Salma back because of the strong request of Jillian Guerra, Salma's grandma.

Till now, Salma still remembered her first day back in the Gibson family.

Yasmin studied her scrutinizingly and coldly after a long time and frowned unhappily. "Your shoes stained the carpet. I bought it in Dolcezza last month."

Then she continued with disdain, "And what's that you're wearing? Is this how Cora raised you for twenty years? You knew you were gonna meet the family's elders today, but you didn't dress up at all and look so slovenly. Well, I guess that makes sense. Cora is an unpresentable bumpkin; of course, you're just like her. I bet you don't have any manners or good habits at all. After you become part of us, you gotta get rid of those old habits for good."

Zack Gibson, Salma's elder brother, fumed, "Keira is my only sister. Who's she? Dad, Mom, I refuse to let her be part of us!"

Devin Gibson, Salma's father, remained expressionless. He looked at Salma, his eyes unfathomable. "From now on, you'll be my daughter. I hope to see you get along with Keira."

Meanwhile, Keira looked at Salma with both hatred and complacency.

It was like she was saying silently, "See? It doesn't matter that you're related to them by blood. I'm the one they love."

Then she stood up and said deliberately, "Dad, Mom, I'm sorry. Now that you've got your real daughter back, I think it's time for me to leave."

Yasmin grew anxious at once. "Keira, you've done nothing wrong. What happened twenty years ago was entirely Cora's fault. You'll be our beloved forever. I'll never let you leave."

***

Yasmin continued to curse.

Salma snapped back to reality before interrupting Yasmin impatiently in a cold voice, "You're right.

"I'm not your biological daughter. Keira is. Happy now?"

Yasmin immediately flew into a rage.

"What's that attitude, Salma? Even though you're the one I gave birth to, Keira is so much more considerate than you. She'd never be so ill-mannered!"

Salma's eyes turned slightly red. "Then why bother finding me back? Maybe we should make a clean break this time."

"Salma! Stop riling me up!"

Yasmin took a deep breath, utterly furious.

Salma had always been so defensive and aggressive whenever Keira's name was brought up.

But Keira had never done anything wrong; she owed Salma nothing.

The chief culprit was Cora, who had been sent to jail already.

Thinking of tomorrow, Yasmin parted her lips again and said, her tone softening, "Tomorrow is the 30th anniversary of the Gibson Group's establishment, and we'll hold a banquet at home tomorrow night.

"Remember to show up with Tyson. Devin and I wanna talk to him about the marriage."

Salma knew Yasmin didn't care about her even after she had been taken back home.

What was more, Yasmin always looked down on those twenty years she had been raised by Cora.

The change in Yasmin's attitude began after she learned Tyson was seeing Salma.

She said straightforwardly, "I broke up with Tyson."

Yasmin immediately raised her voice, shrieking, "What? You broke up with him? Are you serious? Did I hear you wrong? Cut it out, Salma! You're not a little girl anymore! Don't be so willful!

"The McMillan family's help is part of the reason why we've been able to expand these years. You're part of the family and ought to hold the family's interest at heart. Besides, Tyson is the best husband you can find. I don't get it—why are you still pouting?"

The Gibson family owned several upscale malls in Lechester.

After Salma's return, their grand malls expanded from ten to thirty, dominating nearly a third of Lechester's commercial districts.

It was all thanks to Tyson.

Salma said calmly, "He's already held a wedding with Sylvia. Do you really expect me to swallow my pride and crawl back to him?"

In fact, Yasmin had heard about the wedding.

But in her eyes, Salma wasn't capable enough to cling onto Tyson, which gave Sylvia a spot.

Yasmin was actually quite bitter about it; though Salma was her biological daughter, Salma wasn't half as smart as her.

Cora was to blame—she failed to raise Salma properly.

Yasmin said, "I've heard about the wedding. It doesn't mean anything; you young people make jokes like this all the time. Salma, you're a woman and should know the importance of endurance. After you marry Tyson, you'll have ample time to deal with Sylvia. But now? You're not legally married to him. If you make a scene now, he may really get upset and dump you."

"I don't give a damn what he thinks. From now on, he'll be a total stranger to me," Salma said coldly.

"W-What? Salma? Salma!"

Being hung up, Yasmin felt utterly irritated as she glared at her phone screen.

After a while, she called Tyson.

"Tyson? This is Yasmin.

"Yes. Salma is pampered and willful; don't mind her. Girls tend to get jealous and throw a tantrum always. I hope you can talk to her and coax her properly, OK? If she's done anything to upset you, I apologize on her behalf.

"Don't forget tomorrow's 30th-anniversary banquet. Devin and I want to discuss with you about your marriage."

It was the Gibson Group's 30th-anniversary banquet.

The villa was bustling, illuminated by the grand chandeliers.

In the banquet hall, a renowned pianist was playing a pleasant piece smoothly, and waiters in tuxedos were walking around with trays of drinks.

The male guests here today were all in suits, whereas the female guests were dazzling with all kinds of haute couture gowns.

Salma picked a simple, black high-necked, one-shoulder black dress for tonight.

Her neck was covered with hickeys left by Rafael.

And she'd never wear the exquisite, sexy gown Yasmin had had a servant delivered—it was a backless gown, too revealing.

As Salma stepped into the banquet hall, she happened to see Keira and Yasmin.

Keira had combed her hair into a bun. Tonight, she was wearing perfect makeup, coupled with a blue velvet gown which came with a plunging neckline, revealing most of her back. Also, it was adorned with shimmering diamonds, catching everyone's eyes. When she walked in, the hem of her gown trailed on the floor, making her look just like a noble princess.

With a Hermès bag in one hand, she linked arms with Yasmin, and they looked very intimate.

Just then, someone in the corner started to gossip.

"See how arrogant Keira is? It's like she's trying hard to prove to everyone she's the favored daughter. But everyone in the upper class knows what happened twenty years ago."

"I don't get it. What's the Gibson family thinking? They adore someone else's daughter and neglect their own?"

"Yasmin never goes anywhere without Keira. That day, I saw she bought a mountain of luxury goods for Keira in the mall. Even the two bodyguards following them were hauling bags."

"Salma is so disappointing. She's finally part of the Gibson family again, but instead of getting rid of Keira, she lets Kiera walk over her? I mean, she's the real daughter, OK? How come it seems she's the fake one?"

"If you ask me, the Gibson family wants both Keira and Salma, but emotionally, they favor Keira more because they raised her for two decades."

"I think the only chance Salma can turn the tables is to marry Tyson."

"Speaking of which, I strongly suspect if she can marry him at all. You heard about the fake wedding the day before yesterday, right? He held it for his first love."

"I weep for Salma. Her parents love their fake daughter, and her fiancé prefers his first love."

***

Yasmin frowned at the sight of Salma, who showed up late.

Looking over Salma, she didn't see Tyson and pulled an even longer face.

She lowered her voice and said, sounding quite unhappy, "Why are you here alone?

"Where's Tyson?"

Salma glanced casually at Keira, who was clinging onto Yasmin's arm tightly as if telling her who was the one Yasmin doted on.

Not wanting to explain much, Salma answered simply, "He's not with me today."

In fact, she had never reached out to him ever since the kidnapping.

She saw a missed call from him.

But what could that possibly represent?

The second he told the kidnappers to do whatever they pleased with her, her heart shattered into pieces.

Keira, who was standing aside, felt disgusted and irritated uncontrollably at the sight of Salma.

She thought, "Salma's ruined my life.

"I know Yasmin and Devin still love me.

"But the fact remains—I'm not their biological daughter.

"When Salma first came back, she was too insignificant to threaten my status in the family.

"But now that she's gonna marry Tyson, she starts to mean more to Yasmin and Devin.

"This is what I can't stand the most!

"What if Yasmin and Devin suddenly come around one day? What if they no longer love me and kick me out?

"If so, I'll have nothing!

"So, only I can be the daughter of the Gibson family."

She controlled her emotions and put on a smile. "Salma, don't you think you're wearing too simply for tonight? It's the Gibson Group's 30th-anniversary banquet. Half of the upper class in Lechester are here. No matter what, you're Dad and Mom's daughter. You may be slovenly usually, but at least you should hold the family's reputation at heart."

Hearing Keira's words, Yasmin turned her attention to Salma's outfit.

The form-fitting, black dress accentuated Salma's fair skin and stunning curves.

But since today was the Gibson family's banquet, everyone in the family dressed lavishly, putting on whatever expensive jewelry they had.

In comparison, Salma, who wasn't wearing any jewelry at all, seemed a bit too plain.

Yasmin said, "I told Gillian to deliver a gown to you. Why are you dressing like this?"

Gillian Burgess was the family's maid. Salma sneered, "As far as you're concerned, only Keira is your daughter, and the four of you represent the Gibson family. What do you care what I wear?"

In the past, Salma had never said such harsh words to Yasmin in public.

For one thing, Tyson always frowned when she behaved like a shrew without any manners.

For another, she had always fantasized about being loved by Yasmin. After all, Yasmin was her mother.

But she realized the truth after the kidnapping yesterday.

Those two didn't deserve her affection.

And of course, she didn't want her old life back.

Though she didn't deliberately raise her voice, since they were in the banquet hall, some guests already noticed the commotion and looked over.

Yasmin's expression changed a few times.

"Salma, remember how important today is? Behave!"

Salma sneered, "I'm sorry, but since you didn't teach me how to behave twenty years ago, you don't get to tell me to behave today."

With that, she walked away, no longer interested in another word Yasmin said.

Yasmin pulled a long face, but she could only control her temper as she was in public.

Keira beamed inwardly.

She comforted Yasmin, "Mom, how terrible. How could Salma insult you in front of so many people? Does she even think of you as her mother? But don't worry. No matter what, I'll always be your daughter."

Yasmin patted Keira's hand.

Sighing, she thought, "Why can't Salma be as considerate as Keira?"

Salma went to the buffet.

She put a few slices of strawberry cake on a plate.

Keira came over.

Holding a cocktail, she stood arrogantly next to Salma.

"Salma, three years failed to teach you to be smart. You really think you can get their attention by provoking Mom like this?

"They raised me for twenty years, not twenty days. During these years, I've always been the apple of their eye. You really think they can stop loving me in a snap of a finger?

"Salma, stop overestimating yourself. Leave the Gibson family before I make a move."

Salma took a bite of the cake with a fork, feeling today's strawberries were a bit sour. "Are you done?"

"What?"

Salma's expression turned icy slightly. "If you are, piss off."

Keira scoffed, "My, my. You really think you're the noble heiress of the Gibson family?"

Saying this, she flicked the hexagonal star diamond necklace around her neck. Then she smiled provocatively, "Recognize this?"

Salma glanced at the necklace and then put down the plate.

Jillian was the only person in the Gibson family who was genuinely nice to her.

Sadly, Jillian passed away in the second year.

It became Salma's eternal regret.

Before passing away, Jillian left behind an important heirloom—a hexagonal star diamond necklace she brought over when she married into the Gibson family.

It was passed down through generations and was very priceless.

According to family tradition, it was supposed to be given to the Gibson family's daughter as a wedding gift.

But the Gibson family gave it to Keira as her present on her eighteenth birthday.

Before dying, Jillian made it very clear that the others could take whatever they wanted, but Salma must be the recipient of the necklace.

Salma had always thought Yasmin had reclaimed the necklace and refused to give it to her.

But now, she saw it with her own eyes—Keira was wearing it.

A sharp pain instantly shot through Salma's heart.

Noticing the sadness in Salma's eyes, Keira felt great.

She smiled arrogantly like a winner.

"This is the Gibson family's family heirloom. Grandma wanted Mom to give it to the person entitled to it, but it's been three years, and you're about to get married, and I still have it. It shows Dad and Mom only want me as their daughter."

Leaning closer to Salma, she said viciously, "And you? You're nothing."

In the next second, someone screamed.

The ear-piercing scream instantly shattered the joyful ambiance of the banquet hall.