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."

An hour later, Rosalie arrived at Seaforth Club. The second she pushed open the private room door, her gaze landed on Nina perched beside Brandon.

Nina wore sunglasses and a hat, bundled up like she was trying to hide from the world. She dabbed at her tears with a handkerchief.

Brandon kept his distance from Nina, but Rosalie could still see the worry in his eyes.

He didn't even notice the bandages wrapped around Rosalie's head. He might not have realized she was there if she hadn't spoken up.

"Why'd you call me here?" Rosalie muttered.

Brandon finally turned to look at her, his eyes locking on hers as his forehead creased in a frown. "Did you call the reporters this morning?"

Rosalie went still. Her gaze flicked instinctively toward Nina, who had already removed her sunglasses. The bruise around her left eye was now visible.

When Rosalie remained silent, Brandon's disappointment deepened. "I had someone track the call made to those reporters. It came from your number. They confirmed a woman tipped them off about a huge story. That's why they swarmed Searle Manor. Do you even realize how far you've crossed the line? One of them barged in for a photo, and his camera slammed right into her eye."

Nina cut in, "Drop it, Brandon. Maybe we were wrong about Rosalie. Why would she work with the media to slander me?"

Brandon's gaze turned frosty as he stared Rosalie down. "Was it you or not?"

Rosalie had only told them the truth. What was so bad about that? Her lips curled into a bitter smile. She had spent the entire night alone in the hospital, nursing the head wound Brandon had given her. Had he even bothered to check on her?

Now here she was, right before him, and he didn't give a damn. But the moment Nina shed a few tears, he was suddenly grilling Rosalie like a criminal. Another sharp crack splintered through Rosalie's heart.

"If you weren't at Searle Manor, how would you know all this so well?" she shot back.

Brandon's expression went cold.

Rosalie didn't let up. "If you're calling it slander, then you must think Nina's innocent. Or do you actually believe she'd find another man shortly after your father died?"

His gaze turned dark. "Don't be ridiculous. She'd never do something that stupid."

Nina jumped in quickly, saying, "Rosalie, don't get the wrong idea. These reporters will spin anything for a headline. Brandon's only looking out for the Searle family name. He's already spent a small fortune keeping those reporters quiet. Nothing damaging will get published."

Rosalie bit her lip, keeping quiet.

Nina had already won the bet, but that didn't stop her from throwing Brandon's favoritism in Rosalie's face in the last ten days before Rosalie left.

The only thing Rosalie was grateful for was having signed the divorce agreement. At least she wouldn't have to suffer this humiliation every single day from now on.

"Alright, let's drop today's matter," Nina said before changing the subject. "Rosalie, what happened to your head?"

Rosalie didn't respond.

Brandon glanced at her. "She must've bumped into something."

"The wound's bleeding, though. I'll get someone to bring fresh bandages."

With that, Nina strode out of the private room.

When only Rosalie and Brandon were left, he sighed and said, "Whether you called the media or not, I want you to stop going after Nina and doubting her. She's already in a tough spot without her husband to support her."

Rosalie's fists clenched tightly. And what about her own husband? Who was he supporting?

"Regardless, she's still my stepmom. I'll appreciate it if you treat her well," Brandon added, gently taking her hand. "Be kind to her, and I'll be even kinder to you."

Rosalie couldn't stop the bitterness that twisted inside her as the words tumbled out. "Have you ever thought of me as your wife, Brandon?"

"Of course."

"Then why would you let your wife suffer like this?"

Before Brandon could answer, a frantic shout cut through the air from outside the private room. "Everyone, out! There's a fire!"

Brandon tensed up, immediately dropping Rosalie's hand before darting outside.