Rosalie Lardner has 19 chances to get Brandon Searle into bed. Succeed just once, and she wins. Fail all 19, and she loses the title of "Mrs. Searle" for good.

This is the bet she made with Brandon's stepmother—a deal she signed with complete confidence. But unfortunately, she fails every single time. Eighteen attempts, 18 failures.

Now, it all comes down to the 19th try.

"You'll have 19 chances to get Brandon into bed. Succeed just once, and you win. But if you fail all 19 times, you'll have to give up the title of Mrs. Searle and divorce him."

Rosalie Lardner stared at Nina Monroe, Brandon's stepmother, as she pushed the betting agreement across the table.

For a newlywed like Rosalie, it seemed like an easy win. She signed the agreement confidently. "Fine. You've got a deal."

But after 18 tries, she hadn't managed a single win.

On her 19th attempt, Rosalie pulled out all the stops. She slipped Brandon a strong drug and slid into his bed wearing nothing but a sheer, seductive outfit.

This time, she was sure she had him. But even with the drug burning through his veins, Brandon somehow found the strength to shove her off the bed with a brutal kick.

"If you ever spike my food again, don't expect me to hold back just because we're married," he growled. His face was flushed, and his body shook from the drug's effects.

Brandon was barely holding himself together, yet he still refused to give in to her. Staggering upright, he called for his driver and left the house.

Rosalie stood frozen, watching numbly as his taillights vanished into the darkness.

He was going to find someone to help him ride out the heat. He was going to Nina.

Rosalie sat on the cold bed, her heart aching as she spent the night lost in thought. Over and over, her mind replayed Brandon's promises—the vows he'd made when he proposed their secret marriage. He had sworn to cherish her for a lifetime. Yet he wouldn't even lay a hand on her after the wedding.

…

The first light of dawn had barely touched the Searle residence when Brandon's Bentley rolled up the driveway. But instead of Brandon, Nina stepped out.

Wearing a grin like the cat that got the cream, she sauntered up to Rosalie and handed her a divorce agreement.

"It's been 19 failed attempts, hasn't it? A year ago, you were so sure you'd win. Did you honestly think marrying him meant he'd actually share your bed every night? Or that he'd just forget about me because I'm his stepmother?"

Rosalie's jaw tightened. Just as Nina had said, her year of marriage to Brandon had been completely hollow, devoid of intimacy or love. No matter how hard she tried to tempt him, his expression never changed. That cold indifference never wavered.

The one he loved would always be Nina—his ex-girlfriend and the woman who had married his father for money.

In the end, Rosalie could only bow her head in surrender. "I give up. He's yours now."

The first time she saw him played in her mind like a memory. She was 19 that year; he was 23.

The Lardners and the Searles had been bitter rivals for years, their feud deep-rooted and unyielding. But that night, they found themselves at the same gala, and from across the room, Rosalie noticed Brandon in his understated suit.

He stood apart from the rest—quiet, serious, untouched by the extravagance around him. People called him the "odd saint" of the wealthy elite.

He kept his distance from women, never touched liquor or cigarettes, and wore an amethyst pendant with a silver setting that had the face of a saint engraved into the metal. His eyes held the same quiet kindness as the figure stamped there.

One glance and Rosalie was already his.

When Nina appeared before the crowd, arm-in-arm with Brandon's father, Declan, Brandon's face twisted in pain.

Later, Rosalie's sister, Julie, filled her in. "Nina is Brandon's stepmother. She only married Declan last year. But before that, she was Brandon's first love. They dated for six years. Rumor has it among the wealthy circle that they're still involved. That's why he wears that saint pendant. He's guilty and afraid karma will come for him."

Rosalie didn't believe it until she stepped away to use the restroom that night at the gala. She was about to reach for the door when she heard Nina's moans from inside. When she cracked it open, she saw Brandon pressing Nina against the sink, their bodies moving in a frantic rhythm.

Then, Nina tilted her face toward Rosalie, her lips curling in a vixen's grin. That was when Rosalie realized Brandon loved Nina. Yet she still fought her way into taking Nina's place.

She lied to her parents to get close to him, confessed her feelings in secret, went out of her way to please him, and loved him without self-respect.

He finally proposed the year she graduated. But with the generations-old feud between the Lardners and the Searles, their marriage had to stay hidden.

On the day they got their marriage certificates, Brandon vowed to treat Rosalie well for the rest of his life. But that very night, he left her alone in their home.

After that, whenever Rosalie tried to get close to him, he'd push her away with excuses, saying he didn't like "loose" women and that she should act more reserved.

Then, just three months into their marriage, Declan died of a heart attack. After pretending to mourn for a short while, Nina stopped altogether. She confronted Rosalie directly.

"You saw what was going on between Brandon and me years ago with your own eyes. Now that Declan's gone, I'm free. And you? You need to stop clinging to him. Here's the deal. I'll give you 19 chances. If you actually manage to sleep with him, I'll walk away. But if you fail? You leave him for good."

Rosalie wasn't about to turn down this bet. If she won, Nina would back off and stop meddling in her relationship with Brandon. She tried 19 times to seduce him, and 19 times, he left her humiliated.

The first time, Rosalie perched herself demurely on Brandon's lap. He frowned, stood up, and walked straight to his study without a word.

The second time, she doused herself in perfume, slipped into skimpy lingerie, and made sure he noticed. Again, he walked away like she wasn't even there.

From then on, Rosalie became more and more desperate. She cast aside whatever scraps of dignity she still had, even resorting to drugging him.

By the 18th try, she was boldly straddling Brandon's lap and rocking against him to seduce him. He shoved her down onto the bed without warning. Just when she thought she'd won, he snarled, "You're such a shameless woman. You make me sick."

His words cut straight through her heart, tearing apart every last bit of hope and love she had left.

Then, in a flash, she remembered what she had seen in the restroom that day—Nina's legs wrapped around his waist, her moans filling the air as he thrust into her, breathless with lust.

Everyone always said Brandon was celibate and had no interest in women, but that was just a façade to hide his forbidden love. His marriage? It was nothing more than a cover.

And yet, Rosalie had spent all this time lying to her parents for Brandon's sake. How pathetic.

The truth finally became clear to her. With bitter resignation, she turned to Nina and said, "I'm leaving Brandon. I've already signed the divorce agreement. He'll find it waiting when I'm gone."

Nina didn't bother asking where she was going. Her only response was a cold reminder. "You've got ten days at most. Don't get in the way of my future with Brandon."

Rosalie nodded. Ten days were more than enough to wrap up her move abroad. She had only stayed in the country for Brandon. But now, at last, she was leaving to reunite with her parents and Julie overseas.

That night, Brandon finally came home.

As usual, he went straight to his study to sort through some company documents. But after working for a while, he realized Rosalie hadn't come to see him. She usually went out of her way to tempt him into bed, but tonight, she was oddly quiet.

Frowning, he got up and headed to their bedroom. When he opened the door, she wasn't there. Something wasn't right.

As he stepped back into the hallway, he heard a maid's voice from downstairs. "Mrs. Searle, you're back."

Rosalie nodded and walked upstairs, only to meet Brandon's gaze the moment she reached the top.

His voice was flat. "Where have you been?"

Rosalie almost laughed scornfully. Since when did he care where she went?

"I mailed something."

She had arranged for the divorce agreement to be mailed to him. By the time Brandon got it, she'd be gone.

So, she added, "Consider it a gift. You'll see what it is in ten days."

Brandon scoffed. "You always pull this weird stuff. We live together. Couldn't you have just given it to me in person?"

He remarked coldly, "Pathetic." Then, he returned to his study.

Soon, he wouldn't have to put up with her pathetic self anymore, Rosalie thought. They'd never have to see each other again. She'd be gone in ten days, and he'd finally reunite with Nina just as he wished.

With that thought, Rosalie stepped into the bedroom and started packing. She left behind everything he'd ever given her, including clothes and shoes. Even their only wedding photo went into the cardboard box.

When Brandon walked in and saw the half-empty room, he frowned. "What are you doing?"

"I'm starting fresh. Out with the old, in with the new."

Brandon picked up the framed wedding photo from the box. "And how exactly are you going to replace this?"

Rosalie met his gaze. "If I asked you to take a real wedding photo with me, would you even say yes?"

Because they had married in secret, their marriage was never announced to the public.

Even this simple, privately taken wedding photo had been done according to Nina's demands. She had butted into everything, wielding her role as Brandon's stepmother like a weapon.

"You know how things are between our families. We can't exactly go taking wedding photos out in the open," Brandon said, tossing the framed picture back into the cardboard box.

Rosalie's eyes darkened.

He glanced at her and suddenly said, "If you want to go on another honeymoon, I can clear my schedule."

Rosalie looked up at him, barely able to believe what she was hearing. "Really?"

He nodded. "I was swamped with work the first time. Think of this as my way of making it right."

But before she could get a word out, his phone rang. It was that particular ringtone he'd set just for Nina. He picked up, and Nina's voice came from the other end. "Brandon, they moved the auction up. You need to get here now. I'll be waiting."

"Got it. On my way." Brandon hung up and turned to Rosalie. "Don't wait for me for dinner. I'm heading to an auction."

Normally, she would've just agreed and let it go. But this time, she said, "I want to come with you."

"It's the Searles' business. Why would you need to be there?"

Rosalie countered, "I can keep Nina company. She's always by herself. Don't you think she'd appreciate having someone there?"

Brandon frowned. "Suit yourself."

As Rosalie settled into the car, she immediately noticed that all the hanging ornaments had been replaced with her least favorite color—purple. It was also Nina's signature shade.

Brandon caught her expression and shrugged. "The old ones were worn out, so I picked these up recently."

Rosalie forced a smile and stayed quiet.

When the two arrived at the auction venue, Nina and the company employees were already seated.

Brandon walked over and took the seat beside her. Under the pretense of discussing work, they leaned in close, their hushed conversation intimate enough to shut out Rosalie, who sat nearby.

A few big shots invited Nina to a private lounge during the intermission.

Meanwhile, Rosalie stepped out to take a phone call. She was in the middle of resigning from her job. As she passed by the lounge, she caught snippets of the men inside taunting Nina.

"Must be lonely with your husband dead, huh? You're still young. How do you spend those long, empty nights? Why not... let all of us here keep you company? We know you've got a taste for older men."

The moment Nina's sharp cry rang out, Rosalie saw Brandon rush past her. He shoved through the lounge door and hauled the lecherous old guy away from Nina.

Hank Renfrow, the old industry titan, took one look at the situation and immediately understood.

"Well, well, if it isn't Mr. Searle? You're usually so cold and controlled, but the second someone messes with your stepmom, you just lose it, don't you? Now that you've taken over the Searle fortune, what's next? Are you planning to take her too?"

The crowd burst out laughing.

Before Brandon could react, Nina grabbed his arm and pulled it down. He swallowed his anger, let go of Hank, and snatched up a glass to ease the tension.

"I respect every one of you here. That was out of line, and I apologize. Let me propose a toast to all of you."

Rosalie stood outside the door, her heart aching as she watched the scene unfold. Everyone knew Brandon never drank. But tonight, he downed three glasses for Nina's sake.

Still, the big shots weren't satisfied. They insisted Nina drink three rounds herself.

Brandon stepped in front of her, shielding her from their demands. "Her health isn't good. She can't handle alcohol. I'll drink for her."

"Well, Mr. Searle, if you've already had three, what's a few more?"

They refilled his glass again and again until he had downed more than a dozen drinks. By the time the bottles ran dry, even the big shots had to admit they were impressed by how much he could hold.

"I've been drinking with you all today, so just do me this one favor—leave my stepmom alone. Push me on this and you'll wish you hadn't."

Without another word, Brandon grabbed Nina's hand and strode out of the private lounge. He didn't see Rosalie standing just outside. In his hurry, he threw the door open with such force that it sent her sprawling to the floor.

As she fell, an antique vase toppled from the cabinet, striking her head with a sickening crack. Blood immediately began pouring down her face, drenching her outfit in crimson.

A horrified waiter scrambled to call an ambulance.

Rosalie lifted her head, her vision swimming with blood. The only thing she could make out was Brandon walking away with Nina without a glance back or even a flicker of recognition that she had ever been there.

And this was the man she had chosen to marry in secret, betraying her parents, friends, and everyone who trusted her.

She knew better than anyone how the Searles had nearly crushed the Lardners years ago and almost ruined her father, Rolf. And still, she had loved Brandon against all reason.

A bitter laugh tore from her throat. She had no one to blame but herself.

Half an hour later, an ambulance took Rosalie to the hospital. She had her head wound treated alone. There were ten stitches in total.

That night, she stayed in the hospital by herself.

…

Rosalie woke up the next morning to find that Brandon still hadn't called. She checked her phone and saw the video Nina had posted the night before. No faces were visible, but Rosalie immediately recognized Brandon's hands blow-drying Nina's hair.

The caption was pure Nina, sly and misleading as always. "He worries I'll get lonely, so he stays with me sometimes. He has grown up so thoughtful, making me proud."

The whole act was just a front for what was really happening between Nina and Brandon. Somehow, everyone bought it.

Rosalie's blood boiled. This was how Brandon and Nina had tricked her into a bland marriage.

She had given up everything for him, molding herself into his perfect woman. She even stopped drinking her favorite wine because he couldn't stand the smell. And for what? In the end, he still chose Nina.

The moment the idea struck her, Rosalie picked up the phone and called a reporter. "Mr. Declan Searle's widow is having an affair with some man at Searle Manor. Stake the place out and you'll get your front-page scoop."

It hadn't even been a year since Declan's death. For someone of the Searles' standing, Nina jumping into a relationship with Brandon so soon was sure to cause a scandal.

But after two hours, there was still no sign of the photos online.

Just as Rosalie was about to leave the hospital, Brandon's call came through. His voice was cold. "Get to Seaforth Club. Now."