Jane stayed out until the early hours of the morning before returning home.

Making the decision to leave took only a moment, but over 20 years of feelings weren't something she could just erase. She wasn't strong enough to truly let go without looking back.

To avoid regretting her decision, she thought it best to minimize her interactions with Tom during the remaining 2 weeks.

When she returned to the Howard family's residence, the house was pitch dark.

Jane didn't turn on the lights and dragged her exhausted body toward her bedroom.

But a voice from the living room suddenly called out to her.

"Jane."

She turned and saw someone sitting on the sofa.

"What is it, Miss Bundred?"

Hailey was wearing a black lace camisole nightdress, sensually leaning against the armrest of the sofa. She smiled. "Tom bought this nightgown for me. Does it look good?"

As she sat up straighter, the faint red marks on her body gradually became visible.

Against the black lace, they appeared even more provocative and seductive.

She lightly touched the marks on her neck and let out a soft moan, feigning pain as she complained coquettishly, "Your brother has no taste when it comes to picking wedding dresses, but his taste in nightwear is impeccable. He said I look so good in this that he couldn't hold himself back."

Jane stood on the staircase, looking down coldly at her performance. She curved her lips into a mocking smile. "Stop it, Hailey."

"Stop what?"

"Your lust."

Hailey burst into laughter. "But your brother likes it when I'm lustful. The moment he got home, he couldn't wait for me to change into this nightgown, and then…"

"You don't have to continue. I don't want to hear it."

"Whether you want to or not, it's the truth. He's obsessed with my body. So what if you've had over 20 years of feelings for him? Men will always choose the one who pleases them in bed."

Jane had no patience for further conversation. She turned and said, "Keep performing your little show. I'm not interested in watching."

But Hailey wasn't done. She lifted her dress and chased after Jane. "From this far, you probably can't see the marks your brother left on me. Jane, don't go. Come take a good look…"

As she spoke, Hailey caught up and grabbed Jane's arm.

A wave of nausea surged up in Jane's stomach, and she instinctively pulled away. "Don't touch me!"

Not far away, Tom emerged from his bedroom. "What are you two talking about so late at night?"

Just as Jane was about to explain, Hailey shot her a sly smile before immediately morphing her expression into one of terror.

"Ah—!"

Hailey tumbled down the stairs.

"Hailey!"

Tom put down the glass of milk he was holding and rushed over, scooping Hailey into his arms. "Are you okay?"

Hailey lay weakly in his embrace, speaking softly, "I'm fine. Don't blame Jane. She didn't mean to."

Tom looked up at Jane, his gaze filled with disappointment.

"Jane, no matter how dissatisfied you are with Hailey, you shouldn't have pushed her down the stairs! Do you know how dangerous that was?"

When he turned back to Hailey, his tone became one of tender concern.

He leaned down and gently picked her up. "Let's go back to the room. I need to check if you're hurt."

Hailey blushed and said coquettishly, "In the future, let's not be so affectionate in front of Jane. It's normal for a younger sister to be possessive of her brother. You used to spoil only her, and now I've suddenly appeared—it's hard for her to accept. We need to be more considerate of her feelings and give her time to get used to it."

"She'll have to get used to it sooner or later," Tom said coldly.

He carried Hailey steadily back to their room, and as he did, Hailey turned her head and flashed Jane a victorious "V" sign.

Jane suddenly felt like the world had become unrecognizable.

Hailey's arrival had shattered her world into pieces.

She couldn't understand why Tom would fall for someone like Hailey.

Was it, as Hailey claimed, that in the choice between love and lust, men would always choose lust?

Jane didn't know.

And now, she didn't want to know.

The next morning, Jane went to the magazine office.

She had been a columnist photographer there for three years and had great relationships with her colleagues.

The editor-in-chief, Jordan Robinson, was surprised to receive her resignation letter. "Is this about your salary? If so, just say the word, and I'll talk to the director."

Jane smiled and shook her head. "Thank you, Mr. Robinson, but it's not about the salary."

"Then why are you leaving?"

"I have other plans."

Jordan smiled knowingly. "Oh, I see. You're planning to marry Tom and become Mrs. Howard, right? It makes sense. He's been picking you up and dropping you off every day for years, rain or shine. He clearly cherishes you. If you're marrying him, that's a good thing—I won't stand in your way."

Hearing the first half of his comment, Jane wanted to explain.

Tom was indeed getting married, but the bride wasn't her.

But by the time Jordan finished, she no longer felt like clarifying.

The entanglement between her, Tom, and Hailey was too complicated to explain in a few words.

All she wanted now was to complete her resignation process quickly and leave this sad place in two weeks.

"Oh, Jane, what date is the wedding? Be sure to send me an invitation so I can toast to your happiness!"

Jane gave an awkward smile.

At that moment, the receptionist, Wendy, excitedly knocked on the door and peeked her head in. "Jane, your boyfriend is here to pick you up again! And he's brought a surprise this time!"

Jane walked out of the magazine office and immediately saw Tom leaning against his black Cullinan, lost in thought.

As she approached, she finally understood what Wendy meant by "a surprise."

The interior of the black car was filled with bright red roses, blooming vibrantly.

Except for the passenger seat, the backseat and the trunk were completely stuffed with roses.

Behind her, she could still hear the voices of a few close female colleagues from the office.

They were hiding behind the company sign, sneaking glances in their direction, giggling and nudging each other.

Whenever Tom came to pick her up, he often brought her something she liked.

Cakes, drinks, or a variety of snacks she enjoyed.

Her colleagues had seen it many times, but they still teased her every time. "Whenever your boyfriend shows up, the whole office gets a treat. We're really benefiting from you, Jane!"

Jane always tacitly acknowledged these remarks, brushing them off with a smile. She would then share whatever Tom brought with everyone.

Now, they were probably all waiting for a chance to divide up the roses in his car.

She called out, "Tom."

Tom lifted his head, but his expression was unpleasant, his demeanor still icy. "Show some respect. I'm your brother."

Jane froze for a moment.

Then she slowly nodded. "Okay."

"I was too harsh last night. Don't take it to heart."

"Okay."

"But you're not a child anymore. Pushing someone down the stairs like that is dangerous. Don't ever do it again."

Jane looked up in disbelief, her anger bubbling over. "So, you're here today to interrogate me?"

Tom's expression darkened. "You still don't realize what you did wrong, do you?"

"Tom, you've known me for over 20 years. Even if I really wanted to harm her, I wouldn't be stupid enough to do it in my own house!" Jane shouted in frustration but instantly regretted it.

What was the point? She was leaving anyway.

No matter how much she explained, it wouldn't change anything.

"Forget it. Leave. Stop bothering me at work."

When Jane returned to the entrance of the workplace, her previously cheerful colleagues seemed to notice something was wrong and looked at her with concern.

"Jane, did you have a quarrel with him?"

"Don't be mad. He brought all those roses to apologize. Give him a chance!"

"Exactly, Jane, you're so lucky, but you don't even realize it. A boyfriend like him is one in a million!"

Jane kept a neutral expression and said quietly, "Stop crowding around. Get back to work."

Her strong photography skills gave her a respected voice in the magazine office.

The younger colleagues listened to her, reluctantly returning to their desks, looking disappointed.

Wendy, who was the closest to her, tugged on her sleeve and asked softly, "Jane, can I ask for just one rose? I saw his car was full of flowers, and even prepared a vase."

Jane felt a headache coming on. "I'll buy you one myself later. I won't let your vase sit empty."

Back at her desk, she was still distracted and irritated.

She tried to process some photos she had taken earlier, but her phone buzzed.

[Image] [Image] [Image]

[Which one do you like best? Blushing shy face.jpg]

Hailey had sent several pictures of various nightgown styles.

Rather than nightgowns, they looked more like lingerie.

The designs revealed far too much, leaving little to the imagination.

Moments later, the messages were all deleted.

Hailey. [Sorry! Sent it to the wrong person.]

Jane turned off her phone and shoved it into the drawer.

They both knew Hailey hadn't sent it to the wrong person. She did it on purpose.

It wasn't until after work that Jane retrieved her phone and turned it back on.

There were no missed calls.

No texts.

No WhatsApp messages.

Nothing.

Before, if she didn't respond for more than half an hour, Tom would call her nonstop or rush to the office to find her.

Now, he didn't.

Her Twitter feed notified her of a new post.

When she opened it, the scene was all too familiar—

The black Cullinan, filled with vibrant red roses.

Hailey was holding a large bouquet, standing in front of the car with a radiant smile.

The caption read: [Thank you, my love. This is the best birthday gift I've ever received.]

'Oh, so, today is Hailey's birthday,' thought Jane.

Everything in the car had been prepared for Hailey.

After work, Jane didn't feel like going home.

But Tom’s mother, Linda Howard, called her, worried. "Jane, why are you working so late these days? It's not safe for a young girl like you. I'll have Tom pick you up."

Jane no longer wanted to ride in his car.

Neither the passenger seat nor the roses belonged to her anymore.

"There's no need, Linda. I'll take a cab home."

"Alright then. Stay safe, dear."

Jane hailed a ride and returned home, only to find Tom and Hailey already there.

Hailey was dragging a large suitcase out of her room. "Jane, you're back!"

Jane was instantly furious. "Who gave you permission to go into my room?"

Tom immediately slammed his cup down heavily and said, "I gave her permission. What's the problem?"

Jane stared at him, anger simmering. "Without my permission, what right does she have to enter my room and touch my things?"

"Jane, this is the Howard family's residence. Hailey is my fiancee. She can enter any room in the Howard family's residence as she pleases."

Jane felt as though a bucket of cold water had been dumped over her.

Hailey softly "scolded" him, her voice gentle. "Tom, how could you talk to Jane like that? You'll make her sad."

Then she turned to Jane and explained, "Jane, the household staff told me that Tom's clothes and shoes had always been stored in your room. You've got so many clothes, and he was taking up half your closet, leaving no space for you. So I took the initiative to move all his clothes to our bedroom."

Jane recalled how clingy Tom used to be with her.

Because of him, she had never even received a love letter in her entire life. He had scared off any potential admirers.

Later, he had even moved his clothes into her bedroom, claiming it was so she could choose his outfits and ties every morning.

She knew his wardrobe better than he did.

Jane quickly ran upstairs and dashed into her room.

The chaos inside made her think her room had been ransacked by burglars.

Her clothes, shoes, and makeup were strewn everywhere, the mess overwhelming.

Pointing at the disaster, she angrily questioned Hailey, "Is this how you 'move clothes'?"

Hailey's eyes turned red, and she stammered, "I'm sorry, Jane, it was an accident..."

"An accident that left my room looking like a mess? Your accidents are truly extraordinary!"

Tom frowned and reprimanded her. "Jane, watch your tone!"

Jane let out a bitter laugh. "So, even when I've done nothing wrong, it's still my fault, isn't it?"

"Hailey is your future sister-in-law. You should respect her."

"Tom, why don't you come and see for yourself?"

Tom walked upstairs, and for a brief moment, his expression froze when he saw the mess.

But only for a moment.

The next second, he looked at Hailey with a fond smile and chuckled. "Let's leave the cleaning to the servants from now on."

"But I don't want anyone else touching my clothes, especially... my nightgowns."

She emphasized the word "nightgowns," her cheeks flushing a deep red.

Tom nodded helplessly. "Alright, I'll handle it from now on. You can just sit back and relax, okay?"

Hailey playfully stuck out her tongue. "Tom, am I a bit silly?"

"It's fine. With me here, you can be as silly as you want."

Jane closed her eyes, overwhelmed by disgust.

She had never hated the notion of a resignation notice period more.

If it weren't for it, she would already be on the other side of the ocean, free from this nauseating scene.

"Jane, tell me how much Hailey damaged—clothes, equipment, everything. I'll compensate you."

Jane couldn't help but laugh.

Tom was going to solve the problem by paying her money?

He was using such a solution on Jane?

Hailey even nudged her arm and whispered, "Jane, you can ask for more. He’ll pay you whatever the amount you come up with because I was the one who caused the mess."

Tom looked at Hailey indulgently. "Are you siding with an ousider to rip your husband off?"

Hailey made a silly face. "Well, I'll soon be Jane's sister-in-law. Since I’m older, then I’ll have to take care of her!"

Jane sneered. ‘Siding with outsiders? I’m the outsider now?’

Yes, they were the closest pair now.

She, an adopted daughter of the Howard family, was indeed nothing more than an outsider.

Her phone suddenly rang.

It was Mr. Westwood.

Forcing herself to calm down, she answered, "Mr. Westwood?"

Mr. Westwood's voice came through the line. "Jane, I remember that your bird photography project was exceptional. The magazine's editor-in-chief wants to see the original negatives. Can you send them over?"

"Of course, Mr. Westwood. Just give me a moment."

Jane returned to her room.

She habitually stored her negatives in a locked drawer.

When she reached for the key, she realized the cabinet was wet.

"Jane, I'm so sorry," Hailey chimed in from behind her. "I accidentally spilled coffee earlier. I didn't want to stain your cabinet, so I cleaned it with water..."

The more Jane listened, the colder her heart grew.

Ignoring Hailey, she quickly unlocked the drawer.

When she pulled it open, her heart sank completely.

Rows upon rows of negatives were soaked.

Some had already unraveled, others were discolored, and many were tangled together. The water had turned brown from the damage.

These were three years' worth of photography work—all destroyed.

Jane trembled with anger, unable to speak.

At some point, Tom had entered the room. When he saw the state of the drawer, he said indifferently, "Calculate the cost of these negatives. I'll pay for them as well for Hailey."

Jane finally exploded. "Can she even afford it? She might not have any idea what these negatives mean to me but do you not know either?"

Tom frowned slightly. "The negatives are ruined now. Losing your temper won't change that. Hailey only wanted to help me organize my clothes. Spilling the coffee was just an accident."

"An accident? So an accident just wipes everything clean? If you accidentally kill someone while driving, is a simple apology enough to settle it?"

"Jane!" Tom's tone turned harsh. "Don't be unreasonable. Negatives and human lives aren't the same! If the photos are gone, just take more. It's not that serious."

On the other end of the phone, Mr. Westwood, concerned by the raised voices, asked, "Jane, is everything okay at home?"

Jane took a deep breath and replied, "Mr. Westwood, I'm afraid I can't provide the negatives for now. I'll find time to retake the photos and send them to you."

"That's fine. Don't rush. The visa process will take at least 2 weeks anyway."

"Alright."

Tom, catching the word "visa," asked sharply, "Visa? Are you going abroad?"