Milly was the only one who had that special ringtone set just for her.

There had been a time when Milly, right in front of Rachael, snatched Xander's phone, entered his passcode without hesitation, and changed his ringtone for her.

She had grinned and subtly announced to everyone just how close the two of them were.

Xander never once protested or even tried to stop her.

The sting of those memories came rushing back, leaving Rachael barely able to stand it.

When Xander checked his phone, the screen unlocked with facial recognition, revealing a seductive photo of a woman in nothing but revealing lingerie.

From where Rachael stood, she couldn't miss the image. Her lips curled into a bitter, mocking smile.

Xander only realized Rachael had seen it too after catching her expression. He fumbled to lock his phone and murmured, "There's an emergency at work. Don't bother waiting up for me tonight."

He tried to play it off as nothing, but the tension in his eyes gave everything away.

He clearly wanted to rush out and see the woman who sent him that picture.

Moments later, the Porsche shot out of the driveway, its engine noise growing softer and softer as it sped away.

Left behind, Rachael pressed a hand to her chest, fighting back a storm of emotion. Her teeth nearly drew blood from her lower lip.

"That's it, Xander. I'm finished with you."

Looking around, the home she had poured her heart into felt cold and unforgiving, almost like it was mocking her for ever believing in it.

She refused to let this drag her down anymore.

With that, she got up and headed for her bedroom, determined to pack her bags and leave at the first chance.

Inside the walk-in closet, every piece of clothing seemed bland, all the colors washed-out and lifeless.

But Xander always insisted that she wear those dull shades. He claimed it made her look more gentle and agreeable and he liked it. But did he really?

Milly, on the other hand, favored bold colors and never hesitated to stand out. She acted fast and asked for what she wanted just as quickly.

It seemed that love, or the lack of it, was never decided by such simple things.

No matter how hard Rachael tried to fit into Xander's vision, she only managed to lose herself in the process.

As she moved around the closet gathering her belongings, a metal tin tumbled from an upper shelf.

The lid slipped off, sending a handful of perfumed cards fluttering across the floor.

She stopped for a moment and then lowered herself into a crouch.

The faint smell stirred old memories that quietly surfaced in her mind.

She remembered meeting Xander when no one in the Spencer family would claim him. He was just the family's secret, fighting to persuade Lorenzo Spencer, his own father, to let him have a shot at a failing branch of the company.

At that time, the business had nothing to show for itself. Investors stayed away, projects never took off, and the whole supply chain was bleeding money.

Xander drowned himself in work, desperate to prove he was worth something to Lorenzo.

Rachael saw his ambition and understood the ache of wanting recognition. That was why she handed him her very first original perfume formula, hoping it would help him get his break. And it did.

Thanks to her formula, the company launched a fresh perfume line that turned everything around. Overnight, Xander's small team was back in business and he suddenly found himself in the running for the Spencer Group's inheritance.

After that, every few months, she developed a new formula. Each one helped keep Xander's fragrance line profitable and ensured he had consistent results to present.

He used that momentum to gather resources and soon branched out into new ventures.

Just three months after their wedding, Xander landed a position at Spencer Group, and within half a year, he had already climbed to the top as CEO.

As Rachael sifted through the perfumed formula cards, she counted sixteen—each one the result of her hard work, not a single one paid for.

Things changed once Xander became CEO. He came to her with a share transfer contract in hand, promising her a fifth of the perfume division's shares.

But when she went to sign, he told her, "Now that I've taken over Spencer Group, cash is tight. These shares belong to both of us, so whatever profits we get will go straight back into the company for now."

Rachael had never protested. In fact, she pitied him for all the obstacles he had faced.

Yet, looking back, their marriage was a fraud, which meant any talk of shared assets was meaningless.

The truth was, this was just another trick to get her formulas for free.

Still, the contract itself was genuine, and she remembered seeing it in Xander's study.

Without wasting time, she hurried to his study and searched through drawers and folders, her patience thinning. Relief washed over her as she finally found the document tucked away.

With the signed document in hand, she had just slipped out of the room when Xander suddenly appeared at the top of the stairs, phone in hand.

Surprise shot through Rachael, and she instinctively hid the document behind her back, hugging the wall and hoping to go unnoticed.

Xander, however, spotted her immediately, a hint of suspicion knitting his brows.

Tension filled the hallway as he fixed her with a pointed look.

"You were just in my study, weren't you?" he asked.

Rachael clutched the contract tightly behind her back, her face tense as she swiftly devised a plan.

Xander took a step closer, suspicion flickering in his eyes.

"Have I not told you to stay out of my study unless invited? What were you up to?"

"I left a gift for you," Rachael said with a sudden smile, though her eyes remained chilly. "In seven days, we'll mark our fifth dating anniversary. You can look for it then."

Xander was focused on his phone and didn't press her about it. He simply raised an eyebrow, showing he understood.

It was clear Rachael was attempting to make amends.

"Now that you've reconsidered, try not to lose your cool again," he said lightly.

The anniversary gift she spoke of barely registered in his mind.

Just then, Xander's phone buzzed with a fresh message. He glanced down, a charming smile spreading across his face.

It was evident who had sent it.

A chill deepened within Rachael.

If he cared at all about their life together, he'd know that their anniversary was today, not a week later.

Still, she did have a significant surprise planned for him in seven days.

With a cold nod, she turned away to leave.

Xander wrapped up his reply and finally remembered Rachael. He looked up, ready to speak, but she was already gone.

A frown crept onto his face.

She hadn't pressed him with questions? That was unusual.

An odd unease settled over him, though he chose not to focus on it.

Hours passed in the study without Rachael bringing him his usual coffee and snacks, and Xander grew restless, struggling to concentrate on his screen.

Frustrated, he rose and made his way to the master bedroom.

Rachael had just stepped out of the shower and was now seated at the vanity, carefully going through her skincare routine.

Her damp hair fell freely over her shoulders, and she had changed from her usual modest white cotton pajamas into a delicate, lavender silk slip nightgown.

The smooth fabric highlighted her flawless skin, while her slender waist was petite enough to encircle with a single hand.

A soft night breeze drifted in from the balcony, lifting the gown's hem as it fluttered around her thighs, radiating subtle, alluring grace.

Standing at the doorway, Xander was mesmerized, his feet moving forward almost involuntarily, drawn in by the faint, intoxicating fragrance of gardenias in the air.

"Rachael," he called softly.

Gently, he wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, his cool cheek resting lightly against her neck.

However, her body tensed immediately, eyes sharp and cold as she caught his fervent reflection in the mirror.

"Weren't you supposed to be sleeping in the guest room tonight?" she asked.

Throughout their two years of marriage, they had never once slept in the same bed.

Initially, Xander frequently stayed late at work, occasionally arriving home intoxicated, and eventually, he moved out of the master bedroom and retreated to the guest room, claiming he didn't want to disturb her sleep.

Later on, they'd tried a few more time, but whenever things seemed to get close, Milly's calls would pop up and totally kill the mood.

Rachael complained and even gave him the silent treatment for weeks one time. But somehow, she always ended up backing down.

All Xander had to do was furrow his brow, appearing tired and worn out, and say, "Rachael, I'm too tired. Please understand."

And just like that, she'd give in.

But tonight, when his cool lips brushed her ear, his breath felt hot and tempting. "I'm staying with you tonight."

Kisses that once stirred pleasure now only filled her with a rising sense of disgust.

The lotion bottle creaked under her tight grasp as she fought the impulse to throw it at him. Yet she understood well that this wasn't the moment to confront him.

"Honey..."

She jumped up fast, trying to back away, but her hand snagged his tie.

Xander's breath got heavier, and he reached up to loosen his tie.

Worried, Rachael said, "Haven't you been asking Milly for favors lately? She mentioned once she hated my perfume. If we're together tonight and she smells my perfume on you tomorrow, won't she get mad? If she refuses to help anymore, then the whole Spencer Group is in trouble..."

The fire in Xander's eyes instantly went out.

He stopped, pulling his tie free from her hand.

"You're right. Get some rest. There's still plenty of time ahead."

With that, he turned and walked away.

Almost right away, the sound of running water came from the guest bathroom.

Rachael tugged at her lips in bitter self-mockery.

He'd rather numb himself with a cold shower than be with her in bed.

Such devotion, indeed!

She grabbed some makeup wipes and scrubbed fiercely where he had touched her.

The sticky feeling made her want to throw up.

The rest of the night passed without anything happening.

The next morning, right after Xander left, Rachael called to have all her packed clothes donated to charity.

She threw all the couple-themed decorations she had put up straight into the trash.

After taking the trash out, her phone dinged with a new email, and she opened it eagerly to see what it was.

The email had come from Phillip Barnes, the master perfumer whose name carried weight throughout the industry.

Rachael had barely slept after retrieving the equity transfer document the night before, and her thoughts kept circling back.

In Oniolens, the Shaw family was the richest. Her parents and brothers had already assured her that they would make up for the years apart, yet blood ties alone could not erase the distance created by never having lived under the same roof.

Rachael refused to go back as someone who relied on their charity, and she especially refused to endure the silent judgment from her new circle should she go back.

Within the perfume world, Phillip was considered untouchable. She was well aware that a mysterious corporation had recently poured more than one hundred billion into a partnership with him. Together, they had established a sealed research base. And now they were recruiting elite talent to launch a three-month program. Anyone who successfully created the designated fragrance would gain priority rights to collaborate on later projects.

That opportunity was exactly what she wanted.

Only by securing that priority collaboration could she return to the Shaw family with something to stand on.

Yet when Phillip had shown interest in her talent before, her mind had been fixed on marrying Xander. Because of that, she had turned down Phillip's invitations to train further with his team more than once.

She had assumed that she had already used up her chances with him. But reality surprised her.

When she opened the email, she learned that Phillip was currently in Amledo, a country separated from hers by a nine-hour time difference.

As Rachael read his words, his recognition of her dedication to her career stirred a mix of guilt and warmth in her chest.

Near the end of the message, Phillip explained that he was tied up with an ongoing project and would not be able to return to the country for now. However, he included a phone number and asked her to contact that person directly.

After sending a careful reply filled with gratitude, Rachael dialed the number he had provided.

No one picked up.

The line cut off immediately, which made it clear the other person had no time to talk.

Moments after the call ended, a new message appeared on her phone.

It was an address along with a specific meeting time.

From the way it was phrased, it was obvious they already knew Phillip had instructed her to make contact.

Rachael checked the clock and felt her pulse quicken when she realized she had less than thirty minutes to get there.

Digging through her wardrobe in a rush, she eventually pulled out a decent outfit she used to rely on often.

Out of courtesy, she kept her makeup light and understated before driving straight to the location.

By the time she arrived at the exquisite teahouse and went straight to a corner booth, she was only a minute away from being late.

"Sorry—the traffic was a nightmare."

She offered a small nod as she steadied her breathing, but then abruptly met a pair of cold eyes filled with quiet mockery.

Sharp features and refined lines gave the man an undeniably handsome appearance, yet his distant elegance carried a clear warning to keep away.

Rachael was shocked.

Kellan Mitchell?

From university days to the business world, he had always been Xander's most relentless rival.

Why was he here?

Resting against the teapot, Kellan's long fingers looked refined and careful as he lifted it.

With practiced ease, he poured a cup and gestured toward the empty seat.

"Go ahead and sit."

Nothing about his expression suggested surprise, as though he had expected her from the start.

Despite the questions swirling in her mind, Rachael forced herself to move and took the seat across from him.

"Mr. Mitchell, do you happen to know Mr. Barnes?"

His gaze gave nothing away, as if his thoughts were carefully locked behind a calm exterior.

A faint curve appeared at the corner of his lips. "He contacted me. He mentioned you wanted to resume your training with him. Back then, you rejected every invitation he sent because you were set on marrying Xander. So what changed? Have you lost interest in him now?"

The way he spoke sounded almost offhand, yet the mockery beneath it was impossible to miss.

Rachael did not know Kellan personally. All she understood was that he came from one of Oniolens' most powerful families, yet he had abandoned inherited wealth and built Crescent Group from nothing here in Mophia.

Within three short years, his company had almost pushed Spencer Group to the edge of collapse.

Given that history, his sharp attitude likely came from the long standing feud between Crescent Group and Spencer Group.

Her brows drew together as she responded with restraint, "Mr. Mitchell, we barely crossed paths in the past. I have already decided to end things with Xander. From this point on, whatever conflicts you have with him do not involve me."

As he slowly turned the cup in his hand, his movement stopped without warning upon hearing her words. His eyes snapped up, dark and intent.

"You are getting a divorce from Xander?"

She noticed the quick glint of satisfaction in his eyes, and even though it was a simple question, it quietly got under her skin.

So much for the rumors about him being cold and indifferent. Not only did he enjoy gossip, he seemed entertained by other people's misfortune.

She kept her voice steady. "That matter has nothing to do with you, and it is not the reason we are meeting today. Mr. Barnes told me to contact you. As for what he intends to arrange, I do not know. Will you kindly enlighten me?"

Rachael had never heard of any prior connection between Phillip and Kellan, which only deepened her confusion.

She wondered if Crescent Group planned to use Phillip's influence as a weapon against Spencer Group's perfume line.

Then she reminded herself that she was already in the middle of ending things with Xander. That was enough reason to stay out of it and she refused to become a pawn in someone else's power game.

Tension gathered in her hands as she weighed what to do next.

Without warning, Kellan let out a low, humorless laugh.

"Three years ago, you turned Phillip down again and again. What makes you believe that coming back now means he should just welcome you with open arms and even clear the path for you? That kind of confidence is impressive. Or is this meeting just another way to smooth things over for Xander?"

Listening to him, Rachael felt convinced that something was definitely wrong with this man.

"Mr. Mitchell, if you distrust my intentions, then there is no reason to continue. I will speak to Mr. Barnes myself once he returns. This meeting is over."

With that, she pushed her chair back and moved to leave.

He stood at the same time, and the difference in their height was impossible to ignore. At nearly 6.3 feet tall, his presence pressed in on her with unfamiliar intensity.

Instinct made her step aside, but her knee struck the edge of the table, sending her stumbling forward into his chest.

Her palm brushed against the heat beneath his suit, and her cropped jacket left her waist exposed as his hand caught her, the warmth startling and unwelcome.

Every nerve in her body reacted as she shoved him away with force.

Fabric tore sharply the next second—the button on her sleeve snagged on the pocket of his suit jacket, ripping the seam open and revealing the smooth silk lining underneath.

An uneasy silence filled the room.

His hand hovered in the air, frozen.

Rachael blushed, and as she started to speak, a piercing voice from a woman nearby sliced through the moment.