Staring at the green call button flashing on her screen, Willow's heart inexplicably tightened.
When the call connected, the man's low voice drifted through, carrying a hint of something she couldn't name. "This is my number. Save it."
"Okay."
Silence stretched between them.
For someone usually so adept at navigating social situations, her mind had gone completely blank. She didn't understand why she was so nervous.
"It's late. Sleep well! Good night!"
A few seconds later, his voice came through: "Mm."
Theodore stood before his hotel's floor-to-ceiling window, gazing at the harbor in the distance. "Good night," he said softly.
Unfortunately, she'd already hung up.
Early the next morning, Willow woke to an avalanche of messages. They were all about the same thing: Victor had officially announced his girlfriend.
All these years, Victor played around as he pleased, but he'd never brought anyone into the open. The one who'd been by his side longest was only Willow.
So when this news dropped, the whole social circle exploded.
Several friends called to confirm the news, but most were just waiting for the show—to see whether Willow would lose it and run to Victor to humiliate herself.
She ignored the gossip messages. As if possessed, she opened her social media feed.
The first post was a couple photo, clearly edited within an inch of its life.
Victor's expression was casual, without much deep affection. The woman nestled in his arms, however, looked like she'd won the lottery—brows lifted, radiating smug satisfaction.
Willow stared at the photo until her eyes burned. Then she turned off her phone, got up, and went to wash up.
She had something more important to do today.
When she came downstairs, Georgia had already prepared breakfast.
"Good morning, Aunt. Where's Uncle?"
Georgia smiled, ladling porridge for her. "He went to the company early. Theodore really does what he says—the money was deposited last night. Your uncle rushed to cash it out and get paychecks sent first."
So fast!
Willow hadn't expected Theodore to move this quickly. Could his call last night have been about this?
On her way out, she hesitated, then sent Theodore a message: Thank you!
No reply. It sank like a stone.
She didn't mind. Someone like Theodore—how could he possibly sit around waiting for her texts? Their relationship wasn't close enough for instant replies and daily greetings.
But when she arrived at her destination, his message came through: How will you thank me?
Willow stared at those words for a while before typing: When you come back, I'll treat you to dinner.
Again, no reply.
She put away her phone, pushed open the Western restaurant door, and headed straight to the second floor.
By the window, on an expensive leather sofa, someone was already waiting.
In her thirties, Tessa Salazar carried a weariness that didn't match her age.
"Mrs. Salazar, long time no see!"
Willow smiled, placing the blue shopping bag on the table. "For you."
A new release from a luxury brand—no domestic stock, preordered six months ago. She'd originally planned it as her own birthday gift.
Luckily, her birthday hadn't passed yet.
In the past, Tessa would've excitedly torn it open, cooing over it, practically wanting to transfer all her lipstick collection to Willow's face out of gratitude.
Now she barely glanced at it. "Thanks, but I'm not in the mood."
Willow ordered orange juice and studied her. "What's wrong? Who upset our little fairy?"
Tessa picked up the glass beside her and downed all the liquor in one gulp.
After a moment, her dull eyes suddenly brightened. She looked at Willow like she'd found a lifeline. "Will you come somewhere with me?"
Willow had prepared herself to drink and commiserate. She never expected Tessa to drag her along to catch a cheating husband.
The elevator rose. The silver walls reflected their faces.
Both looked worse than the other.
The Mason family had barely survived this crisis. Even with Theodore's investment, they were badly hurt. Willow had wanted to secure the Salazar family's cooperation and discuss expanding production lines with her uncle.
When she'd called Tessa yesterday to arrange this meeting, she'd carefully steered the conversation toward which company the Salazars wanted to partner with next quarter.
As expected—the Sullivan family.
Publicly or privately, she didn't want this deal falling into their hands. She'd planned to make another pitch.
But now...
Whether this affair-busting succeeded or failed, the moment she followed Tessa into that suite, the Salazar contract would slip through her fingers forever.
Ding.
The elevator arrived. Soft carpet swallowed the click of their heels.
Willow followed Tessa to the innermost suite door.
The keycard touched the sensor. The lock clicked open. Tessa gripped the handle and pushed.
A woman's moans and a man's low laughter drifted from the bedroom.
Willow didn't need to look to know what was happening inside.
Tessa was already losing control. Her shoulders trembled violently, her grip on the golf club shaking.
Eyes reddening, she said flatly, "Sorry to trouble you, Willow. Wait outside for me."
Willow stood at the doorway, watching that thin, fragile back. She felt the urge to help, but a few seconds later, reason won out. She walked away.
Her own life was already a mess. What right did she have to play savior?
The woman's screams erupted from the room—hysterical.
Each accusation struck like a drill to the heart, hitting the weakest places buried deep inside.
Willow leaned against the wall, staring at the expensive antique painting across from her. Her heart felt like it was being fried in hot oil.
This scene felt familiar.
Chaotic memories tangled together like yarn—the more she pulled, the worse the knots became.
She forced herself to calm down. Her phone's notification sound pulled her from the past.
Another entertainment headline. This time, the photo was crystal clear.
Theodore Farley.
Looking at that striking face, Willow blanked for a moment. Only then did it hit her—she was already married to him.
A sharp smack yanked her back to reality.
She turned toward the room. Tessa was struggling up from the floor, clawing at the man again.
Spencer Salazar cursed in pain. "You crazy woman, let go!"
In the scuffle, Tessa was flung aside. Her head struck the table corner. Bright red blood immediately ran down her temple, dripping onto the carpet.
The two culprits watched coldly, making no move to help.
Willow even heard a trace of laughter.
The closest person had torn off his mask, yet the one driven mad was the one hurt most.
Tessa laughed through her fury. The next second, she grabbed a vase and hurled it at them.
Spencer barely dodged. Cursing, he stepped forward to hit her.
Willow flung open the door, crossed the room in three strides, shoved the man hard, and helped Tessa up.
"Spencer, this is a society ruled by law!"
He sneered, anger surging. "This is my family business. Get out of the way!"
Willow shielded Tessa, backing up. Her pretty face showed nothing but cold stubbornness.
"I recorded everything and sent it to a friend. If we don't walk out safely today, you know the consequences."
The menace around him finally eased slightly. "Willow, I've always treated you well, haven't I?"
"I don't want to be enemies with you either, Spencer. But you're really pushing it."
He chuckled, walked to the sofa, and picked up his cigarette case, ready to negotiate.
But the next second, Tessa lunged at him like she'd snapped, hitting and kicking.
Afraid Tessa would get hurt, Willow stepped in to help.
And then...
Faster than legal punishment came the patrol cars.
