Nina laughed. "Because Declan was richer than Brandon back then. I'd do anything for money, and now that Brandon has come into his family's fortune, of course, I'm sticking with him.

"Do you even know how obsessed he was in those six years we were together? He has never wanted another woman the way he wants me. That's why none of your little seductions ever worked. He's been waiting for me. So, who exactly do you think you are to him?

"At the auction last time, the emerald bracelet I wanted cost a fortune, but he didn't hesitate before buying it. When has he ever done anything like that for you?"

Her words cut into Rosalie's heart like a dull knife, slow and painful.

"Are you just trying to prove you can win at everything?" Rosalie shot back.

Nina grinned. "Winning Brandon back from you is victory enough for me. Let's wait until he's out of surgery. We'll see whose name he calls first."

Rosalie clung to a thin, desperate hope.

Maybe Brandon still had some decency left in him. Maybe he'd spare her a single thought. At the very least, he might wonder whether she had survived the fire.

She had loved him for 6 years. Even a pet cat or dog would've earned some affection by then.

An hour later, when they wheeled Brandon out of the emergency room, he was still groggy from the anesthesia. Even so, the first name he mumbled was, "Nina..."

Nina threw Rosalie a triumphant look. "Well? Guess this round's mine too."

Rosalie watched as Nina walked over to Brandon's side, and just like that, her last bit of hope vanished.

Over the next few days, Rosalie and Brandon remained in the hospital to recover. Day after day, Rosalie watched Nina hover around Brandon, never once stepping away. She didn't give Rosalie even a chance to get close to him.

…

On the evening Rosalie was discharged, Brandon stopped by her ward. He brought her a healthy meal and handed her an exquisite gift box.

"Your birthday is in three days. There's a key inside. I left your gift in the walk-in closet. Just use the key to open the wardrobe, and you'll find the gift."

Three days later would also be the day Rosalie was set to leave.

She took the key, murmuring, "Thank you."

As she grabbed her bag to finish the discharge paperwork, an immigration form slipped out and fluttered to the floor.

Brandon picked it up, his brows furrowing. "What's this? You're moving abroad?"

Rosalie snatched it back, lying smoothly, "A friend left it with me. I was just going to give it back."

Brandon eased up a little.

After a moment, his gaze lingered on Rosalie's haggard face before he said in a low and serious voice, "I'm getting discharged on your birthday. When that day comes, I'll celebrate with you, Rosalie. Just wait for me at home."

Rosalie's heart lurched. Before she could say a word, Nina's voice echoed down the hallway. "Brandon, I made you chicken noodle soup…"

The moment he heard her, Brandon walked out of Rosalie's ward without a second thought. Rosalie could hear the low murmur of their warm, familiar exchange.

She scoffed to herself. She finished packing her clothes and got ready to leave the hospital. But the moment she stepped out of the ward, someone grabbed her and dragged her into the restroom down the hall.

Rosalie looked up in panic to find Nina standing before her, her lips curled in a sneer. "Brandon just left your ward. Don't tell me you're trying to weasel out of our bet. You lost, so why are you still clinging to him?"

Rosalie met her gaze, eyes blazing. "I'm not. I promised I'd leave him, and I won't back out now."

Nina's expression hardened. "Then stay away from him. Quit showing up everywhere he goes."

Rosalie couldn't be bothered to argue with Nina. She tried to get back up but accidentally knocked her foot against Nina's leg.

Nina flew into a rage.

"Shove her head into the toilet!" she barked at the people holding Rosalie down.

They forced Rosalie's head down into the filthy water. Nina kept flushing over and over. Rosalie gritted her teeth, barely managing to keep from swallowing any of it. They would pull her up just long enough to grab a breath before shoving her under again.

Rosalie kept count in her head—19 times. Nina had made them force her under that disgusting water 19 times. It felt like Nina was taunting Rosalie, throwing those 19 failures with Brandon right back in her face.

Suddenly, the restroom door flew open. Brandon took in the scene with a scowl.

"What's going on here?" he demanded.

Nina quickly helped the soaking-wet Rosalie to her feet and made a show of wiping off the filthy toilet water dripping from her.

With a smile, she turned to Brandon and said, "Rosalie dropped her earring in the toilet and decided to crawl in after it. I tried to stop her, but she wouldn't listen. Right?"

The others, already bribed by Nina, nodded eagerly before seizing the chance to slip away.

Still gasping for air, Rosalie shoved Nina away and snapped, "That's a lie! You shoved my head under the water 19 times!"

Nina ducked behind Brandon, putting on her best innocent look. "Brandon, I didn't do it. You've got to believe me."

Rosalie turned to Brandon, her eyes begging him to be fair.

But he said expressionlessly, "Just get a new earring. That toilet water's gross. Stop fishing around in it."

Nina flashed Rosalie a triumphant smile, looping her arm through Brandon's as they walked out of the restroom together.

Rosalie stood frozen, disbelief rooting her in place. Just like that, Brandon had chosen to believe Nina. He acted like he didn't see the filthy water dripping from Rosalie's clothes.

They had dunked her head in that toilet 19 times. But none of it mattered, not next to Nina's lies.

Rosalie gave a bitter laugh. What a pathetic joke she was. She shut her eyes, her fists clenched in rage as tears of humiliation spilled down her cheeks.

After getting discharged from the hospital and coming home, Rosalie started sorting through her things. She needed to pack up before she left.

The cardboard boxes were filled with years of memories. She had written Brandon 101 love letters, pouring her heart out to him. In return, he'd only ever sent three replies, but she had cherished every single one.

And then there was the saint pendant he'd given her. She'd once mentioned how much she loved the one he wore, and though he wouldn't part with his own, he had a matching one made just for her. Sure, hers was smaller, but just wearing a pendant like his had made her happy back then.

Now, though, she knew the truth. He was only wearing his for Nina's sake. And Rosalie wanted no part of it.

"You're throwing out the saint pendant I gave you?"

Brandon's voice snapped Rosalie out of her thoughts.

She looked up, startled. She hadn't even heard him come in. Now, he stood there with furrowed brows, staring at the cardboard boxes she'd been filling with discarded things.

"I don't want it," Rosalie said flatly.

"Why?" A flicker of surprise crossed his face as he took a step closer. "What's wrong with you all of a sudden?"

Rosalie let out a hollow laugh. Of course, he had no idea why she was upset. His attention had always been fixed on Nina. As for Rosalie? She was just a useful smokescreen for what he really had with Nina.

"Rosalie, you're not a kid anymore. Stop getting worked up over nothing." Brandon sat down beside her. "You can't just throw these away. I gave them to you. You should take care of them. I'll get you new ones if you don't like them anymore. We can go pick out different ones right now."

This was just like him. Worried that his precious smokescreen might disappear, he'd throw her scraps of affection now and then, just enough to keep her hooked. And every time, Rosalie had taken them, savoring them. Even now, she hesitated.

Just then, Brandon's secretary, Trent Crowley, burst into the room, frantic. "Mr. Searle, something terrible has happened! It's about Ms. Monroe!"

Photos from Nina's private party had been leaked online. They showed her half-dressed and pressed up against a group of male escorts. She was even sitting on one's lap in some of the photos. Her behavior was shockingly inappropriate.

Brandon stared at the photos, shock and anger coursing through him until his phone rang.

It was Nina, her voice choked with tears. "Brandon, those photos aren't what they seem. Someone drugged me. This was all a setup by our rivals! I swear, I didn't do any of this!"

With just a few words, Brandon believed her.

She had been drugged. There was nothing she could've done. But now, he was left cleaning up her mess. The photos had already spread too far to be pulled back.

After a brief pause, Brandon turned to Rosalie. "I'll hold a press conference. You'll take the blame for Nina. We'll say it's you in the photos. That should clear her name."

Rosalie went still, and her voice cracked with disbelief. "Nina's reputation matters, but mine is disposable?"

Brandon frowned. "My dad hasn't even been gone that long. If this gets out, it won't just ruin her reputation. It'll damage the Searles' reputation too. But you're different. You don't have to worry about status. A quick statement from you is all it'd take to stop the bad press."

"But I'm a Lardner! Doing this will destroy my parents' reputation!"

Brandon barely let her finish. "Do this for me, and I'll make it up to you. Rosalie, trust me. We'll have a good life together."

Without another word, he shot Trent a sharp look.

Trent called the guards. They gripped Rosalie by the shoulders, escorting her to the press conference venue against her will.

The press conference had been thrown together at the last minute, and Rosalie was practically shoved in front of the reporters and cameras for photos and a live broadcast. Reporters thrust the photos in the air, demanding answers.

"Mr. Searle just released new information. Ms. Lardner, isn't this you in the photos with the blindfold?"

"Did you frame Ms. Monroe for hiring escorts just because the Lardners and the Searles are sworn enemies?"

"Ms. Lardner, answer the question! Is that you in the photo or not?"

Rosalie clenched her jaw. The humiliation was unbearable. Why did she have to take the fall for Nina's ruined reputation? Why did she have to endure everyone's judgment? Just because Brandon didn't love her, did that give him the right to wreck her life?

Rosalie couldn't swallow this injustice and shouted, "It wasn't me!"

The reporters flinched, exchanging startled looks.

Before Rosalie could say another word, Brandon and Nina stepped into the venue.

The reporters quickly turned their cameras on the pair as they fired off questions.

"Mr. Searle, Ms. Monroe, can you confirm who this person is in the photos?"

Brandon stayed silent, his expression darkening.

Nina's tears streamed down her face as she whispered, "It's Ms. Lardner. The Lardners have always hated the Searles. Now that Declan's gone, they're trying to ruin my reputation—"

Rosalie couldn't hold back any longer. She burst out, "That's a lie! You were the one who framed me!"

But then Nina glanced at the escort standing beside her. It was one of the men from the photos.

The escort spoke up, addressing the reporters, "I can confirm it was Ms. Lardner that night. She dressed just like Ms. Monroe on purpose, hired all eight of us, and spent the whole night getting wild with all of us. She even said that her goal was to humiliate Ms. Monroe while the family was still mourning Mr. Declan Searle's death."

The room erupted into chaos as cameras snapped back to Rosalie. Reporters yelled over one another.

"Ms. Lardner, do you have any response to these allegations?"

"How can you still frame Ms. Monroe with witnesses and evidence right before you?"

"Aren't you worried about tarnishing the Lardners' reputation?"

The questions pounded into Rosalie like relentless waves. Fear coiled in her chest as she kept shaking her head, muttering, "It's not me... The woman in the photos isn't me!"

But no one was listening.

Just then, Nina slithered over, oozing fake sympathy. "Rosalie, just admit your mistake. Everyone will forgive you if you apologize."

Mistake? What had she even done wrong? Why should she be the one to apologize?

A split second later, a shadowy figure lunged at Rosalie and Nina.

He yanked open a bottle and flung its contents straight at their faces, snarling, "It hasn't even been a year since Declan's death, and you're already out there whoring around? I'll ruin your face for him!"

The bottle was filled with sulfuric acid.

Rosalie's eyes flew wide with horror, just in time to see Brandon charging toward them. As the acid splashed through the air, he threw his arms around Nina, shielding her as they hit the floor.

The liquid splashed across Rosalie's hand, instantly searing her entire left arm. The flesh burned, nearly rotting on contact.

Security tackled the assailant. It turned out to be an old friend of Declan's. Furious over what he had seen online, he'd come for revenge.

Rosalie knelt on the floor, tears streaking her face as pain wracked her body. When she lifted her head, she saw Brandon steadying a shaken Nina, helping her up.

"Are you okay? Did you get hurt?" he asked, his voice thick with worry.

Nina gave a slight shake of her head. "I'm fine. But you! That was sulfuric acid! If it had hit you, it could've been… How could you risk your life like that for me?"

Yet the only one truly hurt was Rosalie. Her heart shattered as she watched Brandon standing protectively beside Nina. Whatever love she still had for him finally burned out.

He didn't care about her reputation. He didn't even care if she lived or died. She swore to herself that she'd never suffer for him again.

Rosalie gritted her teeth, her tears spilling over. Her vision blurred, then darkened completely as her legs gave way and she crumpled to the ground, unconscious.