In the dressing room, I sat in front of the mirror when my phone buzzed.

It was a photo sent by Rosie.

In it, Bowen had already taken off his bespoke suit jacket and draped it over Rosie.

He was bending down and carrying her into the emergency room. His profile looked worried, and he frowned tightly.

He had never treated me like that.

Even when I had a high fever, he merely had his assistant send over some fever medicine.

The caption of the photo was simple. "Bowen has always cared about me the most."

She provoked me so straightforwardly because Bowen backed her.

The photo quickly trended online, with the headline "Bowen rushes for love at his engagement party."

Everyone was laughing at the spectacle.

The door to the dressing room was flung open.

My mother rushed in and scolded me while pointing directly at me. "Are you just going to stand there? You can't even keep a guy!"

My father stood behind her, head bowed, sighing. "Layla, the Yates family's financial stability hinges on your marriage. If you fail to marry into the Green family, our family will face bankruptcy by tomorrow. "You have to plead with Bowen to marry you, even if it means you have to be very humble."

I looked at myself in the mirror.

My makeup was flawless, and the wedding dress was expensive, yet I felt like a pawn in a deal.

Such were my parents.

In their eyes, I wasn't their daughter but a bargaining chip for resources.

I had nothing to say, only twisting my wedding dress with my fingers.

The door opened again.

A glimmer of hope crossed my mind.

Could it be Bowen returning...

But as soon as I saw who it was, my heart sank again.

It was Brice.

He had changed into a black suit, impeccably tailored. He was broad-shouldered and narrow-waisted, exuding a formidable presence.

My parents instantly fell silent and even subconsciously stepped back a few steps.

Brice didn't look at them. He walked straight to stand behind me.

"The Yates family won't go bankrupt." He looked at me in the mirror and said flatly, "Whether you become Mrs. Green or an abandoned woman of a wealthy family depends entirely on you."

I lifted my head and met his gaze through the mirror.

He was always in control and would never allow the Green family to become a laughingstock.

My parents' eyes lit up instantly. They seemed to see a lifeline. "Rosie, agree quickly. Do as you're told!"

They wanted me to do as I was told.

That indeed was my best aspect.

Bowen valued that in me and kept me with him for seven years.

I closed my eyes and suppressed the sting the photo brought me. "Okay."

As I walked out from backstage again, Brice offered me his arm.

His muscles were tough, and their tension was palpable even through the fabric.

The audience was silent.

Those who had mocked me earlier now widened their eyes in surprise.

Brice took the microphone from the host.

His gaze swept across the room and finally settled on the reporters' cameras.

"It is a joyous day for the engagement between the Green and Yates families today." He deliberately obscured the groom's name.

It created confusion yet left no room for criticism.

Brice turned slightly and took out a velvet box from his pocket.

He opened it.

Inside lay a ring with a large emerald. Its rich color exuded a vintage luxury.

It was worth more than ten times the ring Bowen had tossed to me.

Brice took my left hand.

His fingers were rough and calloused. They brushed against the base of my ring finger.

His hand trembled slightly, but he masked it well.

The ring slid on slowly.

The size was a perfect fit, requiring no adjustment whatsoever.

I was stunned.

The rings Bowen gave me were always either too big or too small. He never remembered my size.

I looked at Brice. He was tall and steady. He seemed to have the courage to hold up when anything happened.

I thought of the years spent as a shadow behind Bowen.

The forgotten birthdays and the neglected anniversaries all turned into a bitter taste in my throat.

Seven years of solo performance were truly exhausting.

Suddenly, I didn't want to endure anymore.

I didn't want to "do as I'm told" anymore.

I let go of his arm and stepped forward. Then I stood on tiptoe.

Amidst the audience's collective gasp, I kissed Brice's lips.

"Brice, I don't want a sham ceremony." I stared into his eyes and wagered everything. "Do you dare to do that?"

A flicker of surprise crossed Brice's eyes.

Then, the surprise turned into a deep, dark intensity.

He dropped the microphone, and his hands gripped my waist and pulled me into his arms.

He kissed me.

The kiss was fierce and domineering.

He whispered in my ear, and his voice was hoarse and intense. "Leyla, once you're with me, there's no turning back."

The engagement banquet made headlines.

However, it didn't cause much of a stir, as everyone assumed it was merely a PR move by the Green family.

As always, Brice was left to manage the mess created by Bowen's impulsiveness.

It had happened countless times in the past.

Bowen had the same thought when he received the news alert in the hospital.

He then sent me a voice message, with Rosie's weak cough audible in the background. "Leyla, I knew you would understand the bigger picture. The engagement banquet is just a formality, not important. I'll make it up to you with a grand wedding. Don't be mad. Just wait at home for me. I'll be back in a couple of days."

He sounded confident and seemed to be sure that I was still the pet and would run back at his beck and call.

I remembered the first time I met Bowen.

It was at a gathering dinner between our two families.

My mother was dissatisfied with the way I cut my steak. She poked my forehead and criticized me in front of everyone. "The Yates family spent so much money on your education, and you can't even learn proper etiquette."

I hung my head in embarrassment. I had the urge to disappear into a hole.

I was surrounded by the mocking or indifferent gazes of the elders. But Bowen was different. He casually tapped his glass.

"Mrs. Yates, you cannot criticize your daughter like that," he said with a raised eyebrow and a smile. Then he swapped his perfectly cut steak with mine. "Have this, and let me cut it for you."

In that moment, I, who had never been favored, thought I had found salvation.

Later, I realized it was merely the casual benevolence of Bowen or a way to show rebellion in front of the elders.

His defense of me was just a whim, but I took it seriously.

For this so-called love, I lowered myself to the point of self-neglect.

Thinking back now, it was nothing but a joke.

After the engagement banquet, Brice didn't take me to the Greens' home.

The car drove all the way to the top of the mountain, stopping at the entrance of a secluded estate known as Cloud Mansion.

It was Brice's private place. Even his grandfather had reportedly visited only a few times.

As I pushed open the door, I was stunned.

There were no traces of any women, but sunflowers were everywhere.

The painting in the foyer, the vases in the living room, and even the garden outside the large windows were filled with sunflowers.

They were radiant and vibrant like miniature suns.

I was a bit dazed.

I had never told anyone that I liked sunflowers because Bowen thought they were tacky, only fit to be side characters in a vase.

So I always pretended to like roses.

The butler and the servants approached.

They took my coat naturally with respectful expressions.

"Mrs. Green, dinner is ready."

"Mrs. Green, here are your slippers."

It seemed that they had rehearsed countless times and just waited for me to move in.

The dinner was sumptuous, filled with dishes I loved.

The dishes were light, with little oil, unlike Bowen's preference for spicy and heavy flavors.

Brice sat at the head of the table and spoke little. He methodically cut his steak.

That night, I was arranged in the master bedroom.

The black, white, and gray tones were cold and hard. Yet the style exuded a certain kind of austere allure.

I sat on the edge of the bed and twisted the sheets with my fingers. I was very nervous.

Although I had made the first move on stage, I was still nervous now.

The bathroom door opened, and Brice walked out, wrapped in a towel.

Water droplets traced down his torso and disappeared into the fabric at his waist.

He was drying his hair and let out a low chuckle when he noticed my rigid posture. "You were quite bold kissing me at the engagement ceremony. Why are you so timid now?"

He walked over and got down on his knee by the bed. His gaze was level with mine.

The pressure was immediate.

He asked, "Leyla, do you regret it?"

I bit my lip and remained silent.

Brice reached out, and his thumb brushed over my lips, turning the pale color into a deep red.

"There's no turning back now," he whispered as he leaned in, pressing me down.

In the hospital, Rosie was casually scrolling through her phone when she showed Bowen a news article about an engagement. "Bowen, look," she said, biting her lower lip. Her gaze was a mix of innocence and tentativeness. "Do you think Leyla is really going to get engaged to Brice? They do look quite a match, don't they?"

Bowen glanced at the screen.

In the photo, I stood quietly beside Brice and looked almost annoyingly submissive.

Bowen's usually flirtatious eyes were full of disdain, though there was a subtle hint of unease in his expression.

He sneered, "He is a work-obsessed machine, and she is a dull puppet. How are they a match? She's just trying to annoy me. She'll be back to me within three days." Despite his confident words, he felt an inexplicable anxiety.

The feeling of losing control was unsettling.

He forced himself to stay calm and dialed Brice's number.

Meanwhile, in the master bedroom of the Cloud Mansion, the atmosphere was intimate.

Brice was leaning over me.

He glanced at his lit-up phone screen with mockery in his eyes.

He didn't hang up. Instead, he answered and put it on speaker.

Bowen's voice came through the speaker, as casual and nonchalant as ever. "Thanks for today, Brice. If you hadn't covered for me, Grandpa would have broken my legs. Don't worry about Leyla. Leave her be for a few days, and she'll come around."

My body became tense on hearing Bowen's words, and my eyelashes fluttered slightly.

My faint disappointment didn't escape Brice's notice.

His gaze darkened instantly.

Without a word, he propped himself up beside me, and his other hand slipped under my dress.

His palm was warm and slightly calloused, sending shivers wherever it touched.

I couldn't suppress a low moan.

Although it was low, it sounded intimate enough to stir Bowen's imagination in the quiet night.

The other end of the line fell silent instantly.

"Brice?" Bowen's voice changed, tinged with suspicion. "Is there a woman with you?"

Brice lowered his head and kissed me on the collarbone.

He placed a soft bite on me.

"Mm…" I couldn't hold back, and a breathy sound escaped my lips.

Bowen was in a panic. "Who is that woman?"

Brice still didn't respond.

His fingers moved slightly and made me squirm. Bowen heard my ragged breathing clearly over the phone.

He was thoroughly flustered and raised his voice sharply. "Brice, what are you doing? Say something!"

Brice let out a cold snort and hung up the call. Then he shut off his phone.

Back at the hospital, Bowen listened to the busy tone and became restless.

He jumped up and was ready to rush out. "I can't just sit here. I have to go back and check it."

But his sleeve was gently tugged.

Rosie's face was pale, and her eyes instantly turned red. She was like a fragile flower caught in a storm.

"Bowen, please don't leave…" She looked up, and tears glistened in her eyes. "I know I have no right to keep you here. I never dared to hope for a relationship with you, but I just wish to quietly stay by your side at a time like this. Is that okay?"

Bowen paused and looked at her pitiful appearance. His steps faltered, and he eventually stayed with her in the hospital.

At the Cloud Mansion, Brice looked at me, and his eyes were filled with a desire that was almost tangible.

But he stopped.

He withdrew his hand from under my dress and fixed my disheveled clothes.

"If you're unwilling, I won't force you." He got off the bed, grabbed a pillow, and headed for the door. "I'm going to the guest room."

At the door, he hesitated for a moment. "Leyla, I want you to be willing to be with me. I don't want to be a pawn in your revenge against Bowen."

The door closed.

I lay on the large bed, surrounded by Brice's scent, which oddly comforted me.

I had the most peaceful sleep I'd had in seven years that night.