A year ago, Elaine rescued a stray dog from the roadside and named it Sunny.

Her filming schedule kept her away for months, making pet ownership difficult.

She mustered the courage to ask Dylan for help.

He was engrossed in paperwork, barely glancing up, and waved dismissively. "My suburban house needs a guard dog. Send it there. The old caretaker will handle it."

She thanked him profusely and sent Sunny to the villa.

Sunny was remarkably intelligent. Though it didn't live with her, it knew she was its savior.

Each time they met, its tail wagged like a propeller.

This pure affection became a rare comfort in her bleak life.

She calculated that once she left, Dylan would hardly care for Sunny.

She drove to the suburban villa, planning to take Sunny home and bring it abroad with her.

But when she stepped into the villa's courtyard, no yellow figure greeted her.

Her heart sank, her voice trembling. "Jake, where's Sunny?"

The caretaker hesitated, then whispered, "Last night, Miss Russell returned. She's allergic to dog fur. Mr. Andrews told us to get rid of the dog…"

"Get rid of it?" Elaine felt as if she'd been plunged into icy water. "Where? Where did you take Sunny?"

"Outside the neighborhood…"

Like a madwoman, Elaine rushed out, asking everyone she met if they'd seen a yellow dog.

She searched all afternoon until night fell and rain began to pour, but Sunny remained missing.

Elaine wandered through the downpour, hoarsely calling, "Sunny!"

The dog didn't appear, but Dylan did.

Dylan approached under a black umbrella, swiftly grabbing her soaked arm, his brows furrowed. "Elaine, have you lost your mind?"

She stared into the dim rain, imagining Sunny cold and hungry, her heart burning with panic.

Forgetting herself, she shouted at Dylan, "You promised you'd take care of Sunny! Why did you abandon it? Why?"

Her rare outburst caught Dylan off guard. He stiffened, then said coldly, "Who said I abandoned it? Come with me."

Elaine froze.

He shoved her dripping wet into the back of his Maybach, instructing the driver, "To Riverbay."

Dylan owned an oceanfront house in Riverbay.

The yard bloomed with fragrant white gardenias.

As the gate opened, a familiar yellow figure bounded from a polished doghouse.

Sunny pounced on Elaine, licking her face with its wet tongue.

Then it nuzzled Dylan's pant leg.

Dylan grimaced, signaling a servant to pull the dog away, before saying to the stunned Elaine, "I have plenty of houses. No need to abandon it. Just moved it here."

Surprised, Elaine blurted, "But the caretaker said you got rid of it…"

"Alina has a temper. If I didn't make a show of it, she'd raise hell." His tone was resigned, but a flicker of warmth crossed his eyes.

Elaine thought, that was love.

Loving someone so much that even their tantrums seem endearing.

Suppressing the ache in her chest, she forced a grateful smile. "Thank you, Mr. Andrews. I've got some free time soon. Can I take Sunny home to care for it myself?"

Dylan glanced at her, tossing out casually, "Do what you want."

He'd been out for a while when Alina's call came through. "Dylan, where are you? I'm craving blueberry cake. Go get me some!"

She was the only person in the world who dared speak to Dylan like that.

He didn't mind, a faint smile on his lips. "Alright, I'm on it."

Hanging up, he looked at Elaine, drenched like a drowned rat, and frowned slightly. "I won't have time for you lately. There's a magazine cover shoot. Go do it. Keep yourself busy."

The opportunity he casually offered was a top-tier fashion magazine cover that countless actresses would kill for.

Elaine had no reason to refuse and accepted the "compensation" graciously.

But when she arrived at the studio, she discovered it was a group shoot.

And in the center, commanding the spotlight, was the newly returned, ever-radiant Alina.

Alina was the undisputed star, surrounded by adoration.

Elaine assumed Alina wouldn't even notice her.

She was mistaken; Alina's hostility was blatant and deliberate.

As Elaine slipped into a couture gown, Alina's assistant approached.

The assistant stumbled, seemingly by accident, and a decorative pin tore a jagged rip in the delicate fabric of Elaine's skirt.

Alina covered her mouth, her tone devoid of remorse. "So sorry, Miss Willis. That dress won't do now. There's a spare over there that suits you better."

It was a dull, outdated dress, clashing with the shoot's glamorous theme.

Outmatched, Elaine swallowed her pride to avoid trouble and changed into the plain outfit.

She hoped her concession would bring peace, unaware that Alina's targeting had only begun.

As a staff member prepared to adorn Elaine with a dazzling jewelry set, Alina interjected sharply, "That set's too bold for Miss Willis. It doesn't suit her. Switch it out."

The replacement was a pair of barely noticeable stud earrings and a thin, pitiful chain necklace.

Ivy's face paled with anger. "Elaine's the ambassador for this jewelry brand! Aren't you worried about upsetting them?"

Alina smirked, unfazed. "Are they? Let them take it up with Dylan Andrews. I doubt they'll complain."

Ivy opened her mouth to argue, but Elaine gently squeezed her wrist.

"It's just a group shoot. Let it go," she whispered, her voice tinged with exhaustion.

The shoot finally began.

The photographer directed Elaine to a prominent spot, but Alina pointed to the far corner, her tone firm. "Elaine, go there. You're so tall, you'll block others if you stand up front."

Everyone in the industry knew Alina was Dylan's cherished love.

The photographer had objections but stayed silent.

Elaine lifted her skirt and moved to the edge.

Alina spoke again. "Elaine, are you a bit too heavy? You're throwing off the whole frame. Step back a little more."

Elaine sighed.

She knew one word from Alina could prompt Dylan to dismiss women like her without hesitation.

Yet Alina, proud and ambitious, always declared she wouldn't date until she won some international acting award.

Year after year, she kept Dylan on a string.

She told the media they were just friends.

But when Dylan had other women, she grew displeased.

What was the point?

It was like gods clashing while mortals suffered.

Suppressing her humiliation, Elaine completed the shoot. Just as she exhaled in relief, a cup of scalding coffee splashed across her.

The brown liquid stained her chest, sticky and humiliating.

"Oh no!" Alina exclaimed. "The floor's so slippery, I lost my grip. You're not burned, are you?"

The searing pain hit, and Elaine clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms.

She saw the triumphant glint in Alina's eyes, and rage surged within her.

She wanted to grab a hot coffee and throw it back.

But then, a commotion stirred at the studio entrance.

The staff fell silent, their gazes turning toward the door.

Dylan had arrived.

He wore a impeccably tailored dark suit, his presence commanding as he strode in, surrounded by the crew.

His indifferent gaze swept the room, pausing briefly on Elaine's stained dress before settling on Alina.

Alina hurried to him, naturally looping her arm through his, her voice soft. "Dylan, you're finally here! The floor's so slippery, I nearly fell and spilled coffee on Miss Willis by accident…"

Dylan let her hold his arm, but his eyes shifted back to Elaine, their depths unreadable.

After a long silence, Dylan shifted his gaze to the shoot's director, his tone flat. "What kind of operation is this? No carpet? If Miss Russell had fallen, who'd take responsibility?"

The director nodded and bowed, promising to lay down the softest, safest carpet for Alina next time.

Elaine, drenched in coffee, stood forgotten on the sidelines.

Dylan didn't spare her another glance. Instead, he draped an arm around Alina's shoulder, his voice gentle. "Done shooting? Let's grab dinner."

Elaine watched them leave arm in arm, her heart steeped in bitter, scalding coffee.

She took a deep breath, forcing back tears.

She should have known long ago that Dylan had no heart for her.

When Alina was abroad, Elaine could at least keep him entertained.

Now that Alina was back, there was no room for her at his side.

Thankfully, she was clearheaded enough to have planned her escape.

Even if Dylan discarded her, she wouldn't end up a stray dog.

She changed out of the ill-fitting gown, returned to her apartment, and took a shower before collapsing into bed, hoping sleep would blot out all thoughts of Dylan.

But sleep eluded her. Knocking pounded at her door, relentless as a drumbeat.

Unable to bear it, she threw off the covers, stomped to the door, and yanked it open, snapping, "What's with the banging? You nuts?"

Her throat caught when she met Dylan's impassive eyes. "Mr… Mr. Andrews…"

His face was stony. "Why didn't you answer my messages?"

"I was… asleep…"

Dylan pushed past her, scanning her cluttered little apartment with a frown. "You live in this dump? Where's all the money I gave you?"

She'd saved it all.

She was terrified of being broke again.

She could never forget that gray sky at eighteen, nor the menacing eyes of debt collectors.

She wanted piles of money, enough to banish all insecurity.

Besides, she was leaving soon. What did it matter where she lived?

She couldn't tell Dylan that.

He still seemed interested in her. If she admitted she was leaving, he'd never allow it.

She'd have to act first and explain later.

She tossed out an excuse. "I'm an actress. I need to film. Where I live doesn't matter."

"Finally growing a career brain?" Dylan scoffed. "If you're serious about acting, I'll get you a professional management team and some decent scripts. Stop wasting time with those low-rate directors."

Elaine knew this was the prelude to Dylan cutting her loose.

He was generous, always ensuring a soft landing when parting ways.

He might not be a good lover, but he was a magnanimous benefactor.

Too bad his offer came too late—she'd already carved her own path.

Still, she smiled and nodded. "Thank you, Mr. Andrews."

Sunny, now awake, bounded over to nuzzle Dylan.

He dodged with a grimace and said coldly, "I'll transfer the Riverbay house to your name. You can live in this rat hole, but Sunny deserves better."

Elaine's eyes curved with a grin as she thanked him repeatedly.

In her mind, she was already calculating how much the house could fetch if sold, and whether it'd cover a similar place in Eldoria.

Dylan watched her smile, a strange stir in his chest.

He reached out, pulling her slim waist close, his hot breath grazing her ear. "Today at the studio, I was cold to you… You're not upset?"