"I have a meeting tonight to discuss a collaboration."

Finally finding a reason to speak with her, Connor blocked Anne in the living room as she came out for a glass of water.

For days, Anne had not only moved into the guest bedroom but also ignored him entirely. At the office, she only spoke to him when necessary for work. At home, she would shut herself in the study.

The investment they last negotiated was at the contract-signing stage. Connor seized the opportunity to start a conversation.

"Got it," Anne replied curtly, finishing her water without any unnecessary words before heading upstairs.

Connor, frustrated, followed her. Just as she was about to close the bedroom door, he reached out to stop it, slipping inside before she could react.

Pinning her against the door, he leaned in and bit her lip.

The sharp pain made Anne frown. "Connor, what are you doing?"

Connor did not know what had come over him.

Anne had ignored him for just a few days, yet it made him so restless that he could not sleep.

Because of his demanding job, Connor had begun showing early signs of arthritis in his neck.

To help him, Anne had learned massage techniques, massaging him every night. She even consulted a doctor friend and spent a lot on specially made patches.

Though Connor often showed frustration, Anne would still coax him into using them.

With things finally quiet, he found he could not adjust to the peace.

Connor stared at her pale, delicate face, his throat tightening. Unwilling to admit he could not sleep without holding her, he awkwardly said, "The patches you bought me are gone."

Suspicious, Anne replied, "Didn't you say you didn't like wearing them?"

"But my neck's been hurting a lot lately," said Connor, his tone self-assured.

He expected her to show concern.

Instead, she calmly said, "I'll send you the doctor's contact. You can buy them yourself from now on."

"But you've always bought them for me before."

"Connor, aren't you tired of this?" Anne pushed him away forcefully. "I'm busy. If you don't have time, you can ask Felicia."

Connor froze. "You're telling me to go to Felicia?"

"Yes." Anne did not hesitate.

Connor grabbed her shoulders tightly. "Anne, I'm your husband. Are you pushing me toward someone else?"

"Oh, you remember you're my husband now?"

Neither of them had brought up what had happened that day.

Even though she had met with Walter for lunch, Connor had taken Felicia to his company. Why should he be the one to back down?

Seeing the anger on her face, Connor suddenly pulled her into an embrace. "Anne, are you jealous?"

Anne froze.

Her reaction seemed to confirm it in Connor's eyes.

He smirked. "I told you, I won't betray you during our marriage."

"Anne, the doctor said Felicia's condition is improving. Just give me a little more time." This time, Connor gave a definite time frame. "In a month, I'll tell her the truth."

Held tightly in his arms, Anne could hear Connor's heartbeat. She momentarily lost focus.

In their younger days, whenever she did not do well on a test, Connor would hold her like this.

Back then, his scent was a clean, refreshing mint.

Instinctively, she took a light breath, but the mint was mixed with a sickly sweet orange scent. She never used a perfume with that fragrance.

Looking up at Connor, she asked, "Do you still love her?"

'Do you still love her?'

'Did you ever love me?'

Connor did not catch the subtext in her question.

His gaze wavered. "Anne, she disappeared because of me. I can't just abandon her."

Seeing the disappointment in her eyes, Connor felt a wave of panic. It was something he had been experiencing often lately.

He leaned in to kiss her.

Anne turned her face away. "You'll be late for your meeting."

"I'll be quick," he murmured, trailing kisses from the corner of her lips down to her neck.

Sensing her resistance, he bit her.

When she shoved him away forcefully, Connor glanced at the mark on her neck. Instead of getting angry, he simply followed her as she moved.

Anne grabbed a dress and went into the bathroom.

The door slammed shut in front of Connor's face.

He rubbed his nose with an amused glint in his eyes.

Leaning against the door, he waited for her, just like he used to wait for her after school years ago.

However, as those memories surfaced, his smile froze.

When he realized what he was doing, his expression darkened.

His mind drifted back to the scene abroad when he saw her in another man's arms, being kissed.

During the business meeting, Connor was visibly uninterested.

After being stood up once before, the business partners had a grudge and took every opportunity to urge Connor to drink.

"Mr. Biddle, this isn't very sporting of you," commented one of the partners when Connor only drank half his glass. The man glanced at Anne beside him, still smiling but with a faint hint of displeasure. "If you can't handle it, why not let Ms. Maddison step in for you?"

"Everyone knows how much Ms. Maddison dotes on Mr. Biddle. She always shields you from drinking too much."

Hearing this, Connor's expression softened.

When they first got married, Connor had been in a slump due to Felicia's disappearance, neglecting his work entirely.

It was Anne who held everything together, attending every drinking party herself. Later, when accompanying Connor to negotiations, she would often shield him from drinking excessively, knowing his stomach could not handle it.

Everyone's eyes were on Anne, including Connor's.

This time, Anne simply smiled faintly. "I'm sorry, I'm not feeling well."

The partners showed their disappointment.

Dressed in a wine-red gown that set off her snow-white skin, Anne looked stunning. Her cool, striking face remained expressionless, but they could not help imagining how breathtaking she would look with a flush of drunkenness.

Unable to satisfy their unsavory thoughts, they redirected their efforts to Connor, increasing their pressure on him.

Connor was well aware of Anne's condition. Lowering his eyes, he concealed the emotions swirling within them.

One drink after another, he drank, but a restless irritation churned within him, threatening to explode. Connor's hand tightened slightly around Anne's waist.

"This collaboration is important," Anne softly reminded him, leaning close to his ear when she noticed his growing displeasure.

The deal was worth billions, and it mattered greatly to her. After all, it was her money at stake.

Connor stared at her profile for a moment before loosening his tie and exhaling sharply. Forcing a smile, he endured.

They stayed in the private room for a full hour before the partners finally relented and signed the deal.

After seeing them off, Anne returned to the room, only to find Connor passed out from drinking. She gave him a light kick.

"Help me up," Connor murmured, squinting as he reached a hand toward her.

The moment she pulled him up, he collapsed onto her.

The overpowering smell of alcohol made her instinctively pull away, but Connor gripped her chin and kissed her hard.

It was not a kiss; it was more like a bite.

"Anne, are you hiding something from me?"

"No," she replied calmly, her expression unchanged.

Connor stared at her for a long time, feeling like he could no longer understand her. She used to wear her emotions on her sleeve, and her thoughts were easy to guess.

"I feel like you've been a little distant with me lately."

Perhaps because he was so drunk, Connor rested his head on her shoulder, his voice carrying a rare hint of vulnerability.

In truth, it was not just a little distance. He wanted to say it was a lot.

She no longer shielded him from drinking. Their once-weekly moments of intimacy had stopped.

She used to care about the scandals he stirred up, even arguing with him over them. That changed, and she even pushed him toward Felicia without hesitation.

For the first time, Connor felt that maybe, just maybe, Anne did not love him anymore.

"You're overthinking it."

After a moment of silence, Anne helped him out of the room.

As she anticipated, all it took was a single post on her social media, a photo of Connor's hand, and Felicia had already shown up.

"Ms. Maddison, let me take over." Felicia stepped forward, grabbing Connor's hand and trying to pull him out of Anne's hold.

Anne did not let go.

Felicia's gaze swept over the kiss mark on Anne's neck, her smile fading. "Ms. Maddison, I'm his girlfriend."

For a moment, their eyes met.

Anne asked, "Has Connor ever mentioned me to you?"

Felicia's expression remained unchanged. "No, he hasn't."

Anne fell silent, lost in thought.

Connor groggily opened his eyes. When he saw Felicia, he called out, "Felicia."

Felicia's face lit up with satisfaction. Ignoring whether Anne was letting go or not, she managed to pull Connor into her arms.

Seeing the familiar car, Connor instinctively moved to the back seat.

Felicia could not hold him back and grew anxious. "Connor, I called for a car. Just wait a moment."

"What car? This is my car." Connor opened the door and got in, pulling Felicia along with him. Once inside, he rested his head on her lap.

Felicia sighed softly. "Ms. Maddison, could you give us a ride home?"

Anne moved to the driver's seat. "Sure."

Felicia had not expected her to agree.

As she looked down at Connor, peacefully sleeping on her lap, she swallowed hard and leaned down slightly.

"Connor," she called softly, her voice gentle. "Are you feeling unwell?"

Her hand barely brushed Connor's forehead when he grabbed it.

Connor opened his eyes slightly, his thoughts hazy as memories of his past with Felicia surfaced.

Back then, they had been in a car too. Felicia, her cheeks flushed, had perched shyly on his lap. "Connor, I really like you," she had said.

His heart had softened. He had cupped the back of her neck and kissed her.

At this moment, in his half-conscious state, he seemed to relive that moment, pulling Felicia into a deep kiss.

Startled for only a second, Felicia quickly reciprocated, her response growing more fervent, soft moans escaping her lips.

The sound of their intimacy filled the car. Despite steeling herself, Anne bit her lip hard to keep herself from looking back.

Felicia, however, was determined to provoke her.

"Connor, gentler."

"Connor, don't touch there."

"Connor, can we wait until we're home?"

Anne gripped the steering wheel tightly, her knuckles turning white from the strain.

When the car finally stopped, she exhaled the breath she had been holding.

After a few deep breaths, she coldly reminded them, "We've arrived."

"Ms. Maddison, could you help me bring Connor inside?" Felicia asked with an air of triumph.

Anne lowered her eyes. "Of course."

The moment Connor was placed on the bed, he pinned Felicia beneath him.

Felicia turned her head to glance at Anne, pretending to resist. "Connor, Ms. Maddison is still here."

Quietly, Anne placed a tiny hidden camera inside a flower vase.

Her gaze fell on Felicia's face, flushed from Connor's kisses.

"Ms. Yule," she said, her tone calm but cutting, "since Connor has never mentioned me to you, how did you know my last name is Maddison?"