He went rigid, taking a half-step back from Tessa Guzman. “Alora…”

“Rafael, I earned the role of the Deep Sea Siren on my own talent. How could you just hand it to Tessa?”

“How could I?”

Alora had been fighting to keep her emotions in check, but seeing Rafael with Tessa? That shattered her control. Then her gaze snagged on the locket around Tessa’s neck—the keepsake her parents had left her—and helpless fury flooded her eyes.

“And this locket…”

“My parents left this to me. What gives you the right to give it to Tessa, Rafael? By what right?”

“Alora!”

As Tessa’s eyes filled with tears and her body swayed like she might collapse, Rafael looked at Alora with unmistakable disapproval.

“Can’t you be reasonable?”

“Voicing the Deep Sea Siren has been Tessa’s lifelong dream. She only has six months left. Why do you have to compete with her over everything?”

There it was again. The ‘unreasonable’ label.

A bitter laugh tore from Alora’s throat. Her eyes were red-rimmed, glistening with unshed tears.

“Rafael, voicing the Deep Sea Siren was my dream too!”

If she’d gotten this opportunity through some backdoor deal and Rafael had handed it to Tessa, maybe she wouldn’t be this angry. But she’d earned it with her own skill. He had no right to hand it over.

“Alora, you’ll have other chances. Tessa doesn’t have much time…”

Alora cut him off with a bitter laugh. “Tessa doesn’t have much time left…”

“So because she’s sick, it’s okay for her to wear the dress I sewed by hand?”

“Because she’s ill, it’s fine to give her the keepsakes my parents left me?”

“Just because she’s sick, everything I own should rightfully become hers?”

“Tessa’s life matters, but mine counts for nothing?”

“Is the world supposed to revolve around her just because she’s sick?”

“Rafael, if you’re so fixated on Tessa and want to take care of her, that’s your business. But you have no right to use my things to please her—or to mess with my life!”

Rafael’s pupils contracted sharply, catching the anger flickering in Alora’s eyes.

He never imagined Alora would look at him with such hostility—as if all the love she’d once had for him was fading, as if she wanted nothing more to do with him.

Panic and unease welled up inside him.

“Alora…”

A dull ache spread through his chest. Just as he was about to speak softly to Alora, Tessa’s hoarse, pained voice cut in. “Alora, I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t know I’d end up taking your role. I only wanted so badly to voice the Deep Sea Siren. It’s my last wish…”

“I’m sorry…”

Tessa lifted her chin, eyes closed defiantly as if holding back tears. Two silent streams slipped down her face. She looked noble, proud—a tear-streaked rose that made people want to do anything just to see her smile again.

Then she coughed, frail and delicate, and a trace of bright red appeared at the corner of her lips.

“Tessa!”

Seeing her not only crying but showing signs of distress, Rafael forgot all about placating Alora. He turned, anxiously steadying Tessa’s wavering form.

“Are you in pain? Let’s get you back to the hospital!”

“I don’t want to go back.”

Tessa weakly clasped his hand, her enchanting eyes filled with a chilly brokenness and hope. “I want to sign the contract…”

“I can’t miss the Deep Sea Siren. It’s been my dream all along…”

“Okay, we’ll sign the contract first.”

Worried she might fall, he carefully picked her up in his arms. Even when met with Alora’s cold, disdainful eyes, Rafael felt deeply uncomfortable.

But he knew Alora was only looking at him like that because she was angry. She was easy to please. Give her a little attention, and she’d throw herself into his arms willingly. Often, he didn’t even need to do anything—she’d console herself, eyes full of him once more.

No one could ever love him more than Alora did.

Alora would never leave him. But Tessa truly had limited time. He didn’t want her last moments to be unhappy.

As Tessa continued to cry silently, he couldn’t help but frown and chastise Alora. “Alora, you went too far today!”

“I’m the one who gave the role to Tessa. This has nothing to do with her.”

“Move back in tonight!”

“And stop constantly targeting Tessa, let alone mentioning breaking up!”

Rafael’s words clearly showed he didn’t agree with breaking up with Alora. Hearing the implication, Tessa quietly clenched her fists.

But she was adept at managing her expressions. No matter how much she wanted to tear Alora apart inside, she still looked at Alora with sincerity and kindness.

“Alora, please don’t fight with Rafael anymore.”

“I know you misunderstand me a lot, but my relationship with Rafael is truly innocent.”

“I never wanted to take anything from you, and I don’t want to destroy what you and Rafael have. I hope you both can be happy.”

She claimed she never wanted to take anything…

Alora knew Tessa was exceptionally skilled at lying through her teeth.

She claimed she didn’t want to take anything, yet she hijacked the wedding Alora had planned and even insisted on wearing the dress Alora had sewn herself.

She claimed she didn’t want to take anything, yet she shamelessly took Alora’s parents’ keepsakes.

But with Tessa’s shamelessness and Rafael’s immense bias, arguing was pointless.

She no longer argued angrily. She only offered a sarcastic smile. “Yes, you and Rafael are very innocent.”

“Innocently kissed. Innocently got married.”

“Why not innocently go to bed too?”

After saying this, Alora didn’t linger. She abruptly turned and walked toward the exit of the hall.

“Alora!”

Rafael’s face turned stormy, the cold aura around him chilling to the bone.

He never intended to sleep with Tessa.

Her accusations and jealousy were outrageous!

“Rafael, my stomach hurts…”

Hearing Tessa’s plaintive voice, he ignored Alora.

Holding her tighter, his voice full of concern, “Tessa, let’s go upstairs and sign the contract now, then head straight back to the hospital.”

“No need for the hospital. It’s just a stitch in my side. A little massage from you will make it all better.”

Tessa’s voice grew softer and more suggestive. “Come on, just give me a little rub, won’t you?”

“Alright.”

From a distance, Alora heard Tessa’s playful voice.

She wanted Rafael to massage her stomach.

With that kind of intimacy between them, could it really be just a simple massage?

She imagined Rafael and Tessa entangled in a heated embrace, and it felt like a knife twisting in her heart.

She didn’t hate the way she felt, even though it cut her to the bone.

Because she knew that stopping loving Rafael was like carving infected flesh from her body.

Even after it was cut away, the wound would still ache.

But as long as she kept moving forward and didn’t look back, that pain would eventually lessen.

In time, she would be reborn.

---

Even though Alora missed out on voicing the Deep Sea Siren, she didn’t wallow in self-pity or despair.

She went to several auditions afterward.

It was like some personal challenge—every time she secured a notable role, she’d be told before signing that she was being replaced.

Without exception, it was always Tessa who replaced her.

Still, during this period, she did land some work.

Even if they were only minor roles, she tackled them with enthusiasm and dedication.

Tessa tried to undermine her at every turn, hoping she would sink into disgrace and despair. But Alora was determined to rise above it.

The hotel she was staying at offered a buffet breakfast.

After washing up in the morning, Alora headed downstairs to the hotel dining area—only to find Rafael’s cousin, Isla Lane, standing right there at the door!

“Alora, I’m meeting some friends for coffee tomorrow. Be a doll and whip up some pastries, then drop them off by noon, okay?” Isla Lane—Rafael Holmes’s spoiled younger cousin—had always looked down on Alora Moore, and she didn’t bother hiding it.

Rolling her eyes, Isla added, “Oh, and while you’re at it, I need a fabulous new dress for an event next weekend. Victorian-style. And I want it ready in a week.” Every word dripped with arrogance.

Alora had always felt Isla’s disdain. But because she loved Rafael—and he adored Isla, the daughter of his late, beloved aunt—Alora treated her like family anyway. Still, no amount of Alora’s warmth could melt Isla’s ice.

But now that Alora had decided to move on from Rafael, she was done indulging Isla.

“I’m busy. I’m not doing it,” Alora replied, her tone ice-cold.

“What?!” Isla gasped, blinking like she’d misheard. Alora had always bent over backward to please her. How dare she refuse now?

Fuming, Isla’s voice climbed. “Alora, you act like I’m begging you! There’s a whole line of people who’d kill for the chance to make me pastries and dresses!”

“Then find someone else,” Alora said, not an ounce of interest in her voice. She barely glanced at Isla before turning away.

Isla stood frozen, stunned by the bold rejection. Was Alora really turning her down?

Watching Alora walk away without a backward glance, Isla stamped her foot. “Alora, aren’t you afraid I’ll tell my cousin? He thinks the world of me! He’ll be furious when he hears how you treated me!”

The old Alora might have feared Rafael’s anger, might have worried he’d shut her out. But now? Rafael’s feelings didn’t hold the same weight in her life anymore.

Without a second glance, Alora muttered, “Do whatever you want.”

Isla was beside herself with rage.

Alora’s pastries were legendary. At Isla’s last coffee gathering, everyone had raved about how exquisite they tasted, swearing they were better than anything from the top bakeries.

And her custom dresses? The last one had made Isla the belle of the ball, all thanks to the intricate double-sided embroidery—a masterpiece.

Isla had promised her friends amazing treats for tomorrow’s coffee meetup. Without Alora’s pastries, she’d look foolish in front of her friends.

“You’ll regret this, Alora. You’ll be begging me to ask you for pastries and dresses again!” Isla fumed, stomping off to complain to Rafael.

Rafael had been swamped with work all day, so Isla didn’t get a chance to corner him until late afternoon.

She stormed up to him in a huff, her heels clicking hard against the floor. “Rafael! Alora has crossed the line! How hard is it to whip up some pastries and sew a dress? I asked her nicely, and she flat-out refused—then insulted me!”

“You need to stand up for me and put her in her place! Make her do it!”

Rafael paused, surprised. He knew how well Alora treated Isla. Despite Isla’s spoiled nature, Alora had always treated her like a little sister, indulging her every whim. For Alora to refuse now was… unexpected.

Clearly, Alora was still upset—maybe hoping he’d show some understanding. Rafael didn’t like drama, but he remembered how devastated she’d been after losing the Deep Sea Siren role. The memory of her red-rimmed eyes tugged at his heartstrings, making him want to extend an olive branch.

That day, her forehead had still been swollen and bruised, clearly hurting her.

“Call Alora right now and give her a piece of your mind,” Isla insisted.

“Go home,” Rafael said sharply, cutting her off. “Alora isn’t your maid, and she doesn’t owe you pastries or dresses. She’s my girlfriend. You need to respect her—or I’ll cut your allowance.”

The threat stunned Isla into silence.

Her cousin funded her lifestyle with a hefty monthly allowance! Terrified of losing it, she bit her tongue—though her anger toward Alora simmered.

Ignoring her, Rafael contacted his assistant and asked him to bring a balm for Alora’s injuries to the office. He intended to visit her soon.

Isla, always looking for an angle, remembered that Tessa Guzman had been sending her expensive jewelry, hoping to win her over as part of Rafael’s family. Sensing a chance to cause trouble, Isla texted Tessa to warn her that Rafael was planning to see Alora.

---

Alora had just enjoyed a delicious meal at a chic bistro before heading back to her hotel. When she stepped out of the elevator, she spotted Tessa Guzman at her door, clutching the wedding dress Alora had painstakingly made.

As Alora approached, Tessa chirped cheerfully, “Alora, thanks for lending me this dress. Rafael was enchanted. He said I was the vision of the perfect bride. Our wedding was flawless because of it. I’m returning it to you, as promised.”

Alora’s gaze dropped to the dress she’d sewn with love, imagining Rafael pledging forever to her in that very gown. But because Tessa had wanted to wear it, Rafael had handed it over without Alora’s say-so.

Alora didn’t touch the dress. “I never agreed to lend it to you,” she said simply. “And now? I don’t want it. A wedding dress worn by someone else, a man who’s been used—they’re both tainted to me.”

Tessa’s expression soured at Alora’s words.

Without sparing her another glance, Alora turned, unlocked her door, and stepped inside.

“Alora!” Tessa called, barging in after her uninvited.

“Get out!” Alora snapped, finding Tessa’s intrusion both rude and intolerable.

Despite all her claims of class and nobility, Tessa didn’t budge. She held her head high and sneered at Alora.

“Alora, I’ve never liked you. While I was abroad, you latched onto Rafael—so shameless. But what’s taken by force never lasts. It always returns to its rightful owner.”

Alora was repulsed by Tessa’s hypocrisy. She’d overheard Tessa tell her mother she couldn’t stand a man with flaws—that’s why she’d gone abroad in the first place. Now, hearing her preach about morals was absurd.

Before Alora could respond, Tessa pulled a pair of scissors from beneath the dress.

With swift, vicious cuts, she shredded the gown. Then she turned the blade on her own hand, carving deep slashes that stained the white fabric a gruesome red.

“Alora…”

Rafael stepped in right at that moment, medicine for Alora in hand.

His eyes widened as he took in the scene: scissors lying on the ruined dress, Tessa’s hand bleeding, Alora watching with cold indifference.

“What happened, Tessa?” Rafael Holmes’s expression shifted the instant he saw Tessa Guzman’s injured hand.

He forgot all about the soothing cream meant for Alora Moore and rushed to Tessa’s side, cradling her hand as he checked the wound.

“Rafael, don’t blame Alora,” Tessa said, lifting her chin stubbornly. Her luminous face was etched with wounded pride. “It’s my fault. All my fault… Just like Alora said, I’m a dying girl—filthy and unwanted. I shouldn’t have borrowed her Victorian-style dress. She had every right to think I’d bring it bad luck.”

“Please, don’t blame her… It’s all my fault for being this way. For deserving this…”

On the surface, her words took the blame. But every syllable cast a darker shadow over Alora—painting her as the cruel one who’d hurt a dying girl and crushed her noble spirit.

Rafael’s expression darkened as he listened. His handsome face—usually like a sculptor’s masterpiece—turned glacial, as if a winter storm had descended behind his eyes.

“Alora, I lent Tessa that dress. She’s gravely ill, and you insulted her? Then you had the nerve to hurt her hand? Apologize to Tessa. Now.”

“I didn’t hurt Tessa. She’s lying,” Alora said, her voice steady. She’d secretly recorded a video right before her phone battery died. Now she just needed to prove it. Her eyes darted around the room, searching for a way to recharge her phone so she could confront Tessa.

“Alora, what happened to you?” Rafael’s voice was cold enough to chill the air. He snatched her phone and smashed it to the ground. “You keep hurting Tessa and refusing to admit it. That vile, unapologetic attitude of yours is infuriating!”

The words pierced Alora’s heart like a thousand arrows. She stood there, stunned, barely registering the shattered phone at her feet. She’d realized Rafael’s heart had drifted away. But after four years together—through every high and low—she never imagined he’d one day call her vile.

“I have evidence—Tessa is framing me,” Alora declared, holding back tears. “Rafael, you call me vile, but aren’t you just as bad?”

“No matter what Tessa says, you believe her. Even without evidence, you stand by her. If she told you the sky was green, would you agree?”

“Alora!” Rafael’s temper flared, his eyes stormy with anger. Her defiance and stubbornness unsettled him.

“Rafael, it hurts…” Tessa staggered weakly. A thin chain slipped from her neckline, revealing a gold-threaded pendant.

Alora’s stomach dropped. That pendant was her parents’ keepsake. There was no way Tessa would give it back now. So Alora would take it by force. She moved swiftly toward Tessa to snatch it back.

“What are you trying to do to Tessa now?” Rafael misread her intent and shielded Tessa behind him. Then, on instinct, he shoved Alora. She hit the floor hard.

Her injured forehead caught the corner of a nearby shelf. The wound split open, and blood streamed down her face.

“Alora…” The sight of her blood sent a sharp agony through him, like needles driving into his heart.

“Rafael, don’t worry about me. I’m filthy, and I deserve this pain. Even if it kills me… I deserve it…”

Tessa managed to say before spitting up a mouthful of blood.

“Tessa!”

With fresh blood trickling from Tessa’s lips, Rafael could no longer focus on Alora’s injury. He didn’t like seeing her hurt, but Alora wouldn’t die, nor would she leave him. Tessa, on the other hand, was near the end—every moment possibly her last.

She was his first love, the moonlight of his youth. Despite past disappointments, he couldn’t bear the thought of losing her, especially so young.

Without looking back, Rafael picked Tessa up and rushed her out of the suite, her blood leaving a trail behind.

Alora’s forehead throbbed painfully. Blood stained her long, dark lashes, blurring her vision, yet clarity surged through her mind. Rafael had chosen to protect Tessa over her—even when she had evidence proving her innocence.

Her mother once told her that loving someone brought sweetness and joy, offering the soul a refuge—much like her parents had found in each other. Meeting her father gave her mother a family, transforming lonely souls into fulfilled partners.

Alora had believed love was sweet. Yet loving Rafael was unbearably painful. The pain felt contagious, spreading from her forehead to her chest, as if a knife cruelly dug into her heart, making existence unbearable.

Gasping like a fish out of water, Alora spent nearly ten minutes on the floor before she managed to stand.

She realized now that love was sweet only because her mother had loved the right person. Her own suffering came from loving the wrong one.

No matter how difficult it was, she was determined to escape this misery.

Isla Lane, Rafael’s cousin, had been following the pair from a distance, believing Alora cruelly hurt Tessa. She encountered Patrick Dunn outside the hotel, immediately informing him and urging him to confront Alora.

Alora barely found time to recharge her phone before Patrick stormed into her suite with a menacing presence.

Shredded pieces of the Victorian-style dress, stained with blood, lay scattered across the floor.

At the sight of his precious Tessa’s blood, Patrick was ready to tear Alora apart.

“How dare you hurt Tessa again! How dare you!” Patrick seized Alora’s wrist with a brutal grip.

“Time and again, you hurt Tessa… Alora, you deserve to suffer! You’re coming to the hospital to apologize to Tessa now. If she doesn’t forgive you… you won’t need those filthy hands anymore!”

Patrick had tormented Alora more times than she could count since Tessa came back. She didn’t bother arguing. She just unlocked her phone to show him the video of Tessa hurting herself.

Thinking she meant to call for help, Patrick knocked the phone from her hand and grabbed her other wrist. His charming, unruly face twisted with disgust and contempt—his devotion to Tessa eclipsing everything else.

“If you hurt Tessa, you’ll answer for it!”

As he started dragging her out, Alora lunged up and headbutted him, desperate to break free.

Patrick staggered, stunned. He couldn’t believe she’d dared to hit him.

He was about to teach her a lesson she’d never forget—until her lips accidentally brushed his. He froze.

It was his first kiss.

Seizing his moment of shock, Alora broke free and quickly opened the video she’d recorded.