The sweltering summer heat seemed unyielding, and even with the air conditioning on, a fine sheen of sweat clung to Lyla Greene. After a vigorous workout, a charming flush colored her cheeks. Her delicate fingers wrapped around a glass of golden whiskey as she stood by the window.
Her long, wavy hair hung over her shoulders, and her shapely legs were casually crossed. The evening sun cast a perfect glow on her porcelain-like skin, while the sheer white curtains swayed gently with her breath.
As Cameron Carlson emerged from the bathroom, still drying off, he was met with a captivating sight that rekindled a desire he thought had just faded. Even after a year with this woman, whose body he knew better than his own, her presence always stirred something primal within him. This woman, whom he'd deliberately kept close, could effortlessly ignite his deepest desires.
Hearing the noise, Lyla lifted her head, finished her whiskey, and turned with a teasing smile. Before her stood the man she was most intimately acquainted with—her husband in name, Cameron. His strikingly handsome face was so perfectly defined that it was breathtaking.
Lyla flushed as she took in Cameron's tall, lean frame. This man's allure was like a drug, one she couldn't resist. Yet she knew such an exceptional man would never truly be hers. Their relationship was purely transactional, summed up in two words: mutual benefit.
"Why are you hitting the bottle again? You know that's not just water, right?" Cameron quickly moved to Lyla's side, snatching the empty glass from her hand, his face showing clear annoyance. She had a habit of needing a drink after every encounter, and only whiskey would suffice. The alcohol made her seem even more like an irresistible siren, hard to ignore.
"What's the matter? Are you worried about your precious liquor?" Lyla teased, playfully retrieving the glass. She walked to the bed, picked up a white sheet, and with a twirl, wrapped it around herself, transforming the sheet into an elegant makeshift gown that highlighted her perfect curves.
"Concerned? Lyla, after all this time, you still don't get me." A smirk tugged at Cameron's lips, mocking her earlier remark. Indeed, a man without a heart couldn't feel compassion.
"You'd better get ready. Tonight's gala should be quite the spectacle. Aren't you curious to see what your family's been up to after a year?" Cameron casually picked out a light blue shirt and beige trousers from the wardrobe, unabashedly dropping his towel in front of Lyla.
Lyla stopped mid-pour, processing Cameron's words. She lowered the glass, staring at him incredulously as he got dressed. "You're really taking me with you?" she asked, disbelief tinting her voice. For over a year, she'd been confined to this estate, hidden away as if she were invisible, only a wife in name.
"Don't you want to go?" Cameron fastened his cufflinks and turned to face Lyla, whose fingers were nervously intertwined. His expression softened for a moment. She'd stayed by his side for a year, doing all he asked, waiting to reclaim what was rightfully hers.
Hearing her family's name pierced through Lyla's calm demeanor, transforming her into a bristling hedgehog, her eyes filled with deep-seated resentment.
Watching her, Cameron felt an unexpected twinge of sympathy. When she had nowhere else to turn, he'd offered her a deal: She would be his wife for two years in exchange for his help.
~
Back then, Cameron had appeared like a savior before a destitute Lyla on the street, concealed behind large sunglasses. She'd been cast out by her stepmother, left with nothing, and he'd offered her a deal she couldn't refuse.
"I refuse. I don't know you. Why should I marry you, especially when I have nothing left?" Lyla stood on the street, clutching an empty suitcase, despair clouding her gaze.
"Really? You might regret it." Cameron tossed a stack of photos at Lyla and turned to walk away.
Lyla's eyes widened as she stared at the photographs scattered on the ground. They showed her father, Chaim Greene, CEO of Greene Corporation, bound and unconscious, tormented by unidentified medical staff.
That moment shattered Lyla. Her father reduced to such a state meant she had truly lost everything—not even a flicker of hope remained. At twenty-three, holding a doctorate in archaeology, Lyla was still naive about the world. Betrayed by those she trusted, all she could do was flee her family in despair.
But those photos ignited her anger. She could endure betrayal but wouldn't allow anyone to harm her beloved father. Lyla made an unthinkable decision: She abandoned all her principles and got into Cameron's car, becoming someone she hardly recognized.
"Helen has prepped the dress you'll wear tonight. It's in your room. Get yourself ready; I expect you'll shine tonight. I'm looking forward to your performance!" Cameron kissed the top of Lyla's head, snapped his fingers, and left the room.
Watching him leave, Lyla hesitated for a moment. A year had passed with this man, and now he was keeping his promise. Did this mean she was close to freedom? Close to reclaiming everything she had lost? The thought brought a faint smile to her lips. Maybe this time she'd truly get what she wanted.
Wrapped in the sheet, Lyla returned to her room. Though legally married to Cameron, they shared little outside of necessity. They had always slept separately, never spending a night together. Lyla wondered why, if Cameron desired only her body, he insisted on marriage, only to hide her existence. Pushing the thought aside, she stepped into the bathroom. Lyla didn't care about such trivialities. As long as Cameron fulfilled his promise to rescue her father and make those who harmed her pay, she was indifferent to what he took from her over these two years.
Initially skeptical, Lyla had come to trust Cameron’s capabilities over the year. The Greene family's power wasn't easily challenged, yet Cameron seemed capable of the impossible. His ruthlessness was something she'd witnessed firsthand on more than one occasion.
Lyla's stubbornness was a trait she'd inherited but was now resolute in her decision to leave only on her terms, ensuring a clean break from Cameron. However, Francis Woods had different plans.
"This isn't up to you! If you stay and involve innocent people, that's a crime!" Francis exclaimed. Approaching quickly, he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it to Lyla's face.
Francis’s swift, practiced movement caught Lyla off guard. Her body weakened, vision blurred, and she slipped into unconsciousness.
"Francis, what are you doing?" Jude Holmes gasped in alarm. He quickly took Lyla from Francis, his grip tight.
"You fool! She's determined to stay. Can you stop her? Get her out of here! Cameron's men are closing in. We're no match for him. If you want her back in Cameron's hands, go ahead!" Francis lamented, regretting his involvement in this mess.
"You..." Jude was taken aback by Francis's foresight, casting him an apologetic glance. Truly, compared to Francis, Jude felt immature.
"Enough! If you don't leave now, I'll knock you out too! Hurry! I don't want to see my estate wrecked!" Despite his harsh words, Francis's concern reflected his genuine intentions.
"Thank you, Uncle..." Holding Lyla, Jude solemnly bowed, showing respect usually reserved for rare occasions.
"Jude, make sure you come back!" Watching Jude's retreating figure, Francis felt unease gnawing at him. He couldn't determine if his actions would save or doom Jude.
"If I don't return… please take care of Grandma! She's always worried about you!" Without looking back, Jude spoke softly, his eyes moist with unshed tears.
Lifting his head, Jude suppressed the bitterness, took a deep breath, and vanished with Lyla from the serene courtyard.
Francis stood there, Jude's words resonating deeply, stirring a pang of pain within him…
~
Jude drove swiftly, glancing at Lyla frequently, narrowly avoiding several collisions. Yet, as fate would have it, he ended up in an accident.
A bright red sports car, flashy and audacious, persistently tailed Jude's vehicle. The driver was Emerie Adams. Jude honestly thought this woman was like a persistent ghost.
Emerie had noticed Jude's car by chance. In New York, only a few could afford such luxury, so she took a second glance. That glance was enough to spark chaos.
Lyla sat quietly in the passenger seat, her porcelain-doll-like stillness infuriating Emerie. She tailed them aggressively onto the highway, determined to see what had captivated so many men.
Trailing another car in a jealous frenzy might seem absurd, yet for Emerie, whose mind was warped with bitterness, it was perfectly plausible. She'd even abandoned her own child in an orphanage. What wouldn't she do?
Jude had already noticed Emerie's pursuit, having no time or inclination to deal with her madness. He accelerated, pushing his vehicle forward.
Emerie, however, was relentless. She couldn't let Lyla slip away so easily.
Half-conscious, Lyla felt as though she were adrift at sea, swaying and dizzy, struggling to open her eyes.
"Jude… Holmes!" Lyla was not heavily sedated due to her pregnancy, regaining consciousness after about ten minutes.
Forcing herself awake, Lyla shook her head, recognizing the person and surroundings, startled. "What are you doing? Where are you taking me?"
"Lyla… you're awake?" Jude hadn't expected her to awaken so soon, uneasily glancing at her.
At that moment, Emerie's car rammed them again, relentlessly. Her intentions were clear; she was set on stopping Jude.
The collision startled Jude, who instinctively overcorrected, sending his car toward the highway railing.
"Watch out!" Startled by nearly being thrown from the car, Lyla jolted awake. Seeing Jude's frantic efforts to steer, her heart nearly stopped.
Jude broke into a cold sweat. The car, as if possessed, was out of control, the brakes seemingly failing. They were headed for the railing!
"Damn it!" Jude shouted, slamming the brakes, his body shielding Lyla, determined to protect her at any cost. Luckily, the car stopped just in time.
"Lyla, I'm sorry! Are you alright?" Jude's first instinct was to check on Lyla, concern etched on his face.
"I'm… I'm fine! What about you?" Lyla, though shaken, managed to steady her voice, tucking her hair behind her ear and exhaling deeply.
"I'm okay. Lyla, stay in the car; I'll handle this." Seeing Emerie approach, Jude knew she was targeting Lyla. He wouldn't let this venomous woman hurt her. Locking the windows, Jude prepared to confront Emerie, eager to rid themselves of her menace.
"Jude?" Lyla barely registered what was happening before Jude kissed her forehead and left the car.
The scene played out in perfect tension. Jude couldn't fathom Jolie Stone's audacity. She'd promised to delay Cameron but never imagined such tactics. The moment Cameron departed, Jude followed suit, uneasy about leaving the child with Skyler Lopez.
~
"Jolie Stone, are you satisfied now? Don’t think you'll get away with this! If you want a fight, bring it on. I can make your whole family's life miserable!" Cameron stood by the hospital bed, his face dark with frustration. He'd lost all patience for Jolie. If it weren't for the media waiting outside, he'd already have confronted the child.
"Cameron, you drove me to this. You taught me to be heartless, to show no mercy these past five years!" Jolie retorted, lying on the hospital bed, not sparing him a glance.
"Hmph, I underestimated you, Jolie Stone! What have you gained these five years? Aside from a series of wheelchairs, your life lacks any scenery!" Cameron's words weren't just sarcastic. Further entanglement held no meaning.
"Even if I'm trapped, I'm willing! Cameron, haven't you heard? Loving someone doesn’t require their involvement. It's my concern alone!" Jolie yanked out her IV line, her voice defiant.
"Your concern? If it entails always acting in front of me, how noble is your love?" Cameron couldn't tolerate Jolie's persistence, regretting not exposing her five years ago.
Had he been more ruthless then, disregarded Nora James’s opinion, perhaps his life wouldn't be in disarray. Perhaps he and Lyla might have reconciled, maybe even had a lively child…
But it was too late now, and what he wanted seemed like an elusive fantasy.
"Yes, I'm neither pure nor noble. Cameron, since meeting you, I've been captivated! How could someone who's fallen so low be unblemished?" Jolie’s heart ached. Love's pain, yet unable to hate, kept her tethered to Cameron. She'd always sought possession, yet always failed.
"The car crash five years ago... if I hadn't overheard your appalling words at the hospital, maybe you'd be my wife now. But Jolie, your cunning showed me endless ugliness. I've shattered, needing no broken wife! A woman so cruel to herself can't dream of being loved. Stop your scheming! This is your last chance—leave or... it's over!" Cameron's tone softened. He'd tried not to hurt Jolie but she'd tested his patience too long.
Jolie, panic-stricken, realized Cameron had always known of her deception.
"Aunt... Aunt..." Jolie's voice echoed as she approached, her signature loudness alerting everyone.
The hospital bustled, yet the VIP floor remained serene—home to the wealthy and powerful.
Jolie’s visit was originally to see Nora under the guise of concern, but it was mostly strategic.
