Nicholas Hawkins caught Madeleine Riley's silence and hesitated before finally saying, "You've lost a lot of weight." His hair fell in those charming curls over his eyes, his sharp features doing their usual trick. The coldness that normally lived in his gaze seemed softer now, almost tender. If he were a dog, you'd swear he was wagging his tail.

But all of it was just an act—a ploy to mess with Jacqueline. And while Nicholas was still fully invested in his little performance, Madeleine was over it. She gave him a flat look and asked out of nowhere, "Are you still planning to marry me?"

Nicholas was caught off guard, a faint helpless smile tugging at his lips. "You've been through so much for me, sweetheart. How could I ever leave you now?"

The image of the bracelet wrapped around Jacqueline's wrist flashed through Madeleine's mind, and any warmth in her eyes went ice-cold. Nicholas never had any intention of marrying her. Everything he did was just to get under Jacqueline's skin.

Such a devoted act—and yet here he was, still playing his part. Madeleine was done with the charade.

"But I don't want this anymore. Nicholas, let's break up."

She didn't wait for his stunned reaction. She hung up and immediately blocked him on every platform.

Before he could even think of reaching out again, she texted her brother, Ethan Silva: "Can you dig into what Nicholas and Jacqueline were up to last month?"

Once the message was sent, Madeleine turned to stare out the window, feeling strangely detached. She wasn't the type to forgive easily; she believed in payback. Nearly having her whole life ruined over some stupid bet? That wasn't something she'd just let slide.

Meanwhile, inside the villa, Nicholas sat there with a cold expression, lips pressed tight, unable to wrap his head around the fact that Madeleine had blocked him everywhere.

The people around him exchanged confused looks.

"Isn't Madeleine just getting past a rough patch? What's she stirring up now? Because you forgot her birthday gift?" someone asked.

Nicholas frowned slightly. Madeleine had always been easy to sway. No matter what he did, a few sweet words were always enough to calm her down. He'd expected the messages he left while she was gone to soften her up—but instead, she asked for a breakup.

Could this really be about the birthday gift for Jacqueline?

Someone voiced what many were thinking: "Don't sweat it. Madeleine's been chasing after you for so long. Just leave her alone for a few days, and she'll come running back."

"Besides, who else would want someone with her reputation?" another added.

Nicholas had actually been leaning toward going after her, but his resolve started to crack as his friends' words hit too close to home. Yeah, how many guys would really want a woman with a reputation like that? He'd spoiled her too much. That's why she was acting out and blocking him.

Nicholas decided he'd let Madeleine learn her lesson—completely unaware of just how much mess he'd stirred up.

Already worn out from life's recent punches, Madeleine somehow managed to get a rare deep sleep after washing up.

In her dream, she was back to the time she first got adopted. The panic and unease she felt at the Silva household was so overwhelming that even her favorite toys couldn't comfort her.

She cried her eyes out, clutching a teenager's clothes, holding on for dear life. The boy's face was blurry in her memory, but she kept calling him "Brother Vic."

When she woke up, the morning sun was bright. Madeleine broke into a light sweat, rubbing her temples. That dream again. Every time she was troubled, she dreamt of "Brother Vic." But no matter how much she asked around, there was no "Brother Vic" in the Silva family.

Who exactly was this "Brother Vic"?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a notification. Madeleine saw that her property transfer was complete. She quickly listed it for sale online. Once the money came through, she'd have enough to start fresh in London.

With that handled, she got a call from the HR department at Riley Corporation. "We heard you're back from your break. Could you come in for a project handover meeting?" they asked.

Madeleine agreed.

Ever since graduation, she'd worked at Riley Corporation. During her leave, her family had said she was on a break to cover up the whole scandal.

When she got to the company, she was called straight to the chairman's office, where her father, John Riley, sat behind his desk. Across from him was Jacqueline Riley, radiating her usual fake charm.

John handed Madeleine a stack of documents, motioning for her to open them. "Your performance review," he said.

When she unfolded the folder, the words "Not Qualified" screamed back at her.

A flicker of bitter amusement passed through Madeleine's heart as her voice went cold. "What does this mean?"

John cleared his throat, his tone flat. "This is your evaluation for the managerial promotion. You didn't pass. The company has decided not to promote you. Instead, Jacqueline will take your position and lead future projects."

Madeleine leafed through the documents, noticing that every single criterion was marked satisfactory—yet the conclusion said otherwise.

"Sister, don't be upset with Dad," Jacqueline said sweetly, taking the report from Madeleine's hands. "How could Riley Corporation let someone with a tarnished record become a manager? Think about Dad's intentions. I'll be stepping in, but I'll definitely need your guidance. We're family after all. It shouldn't matter who's sitting in the manager's seat, right, sister?"

Hearing that, Madeleine's lips curled into a mocking smile. Her situation had been the perfect setup for Jacqueline all along.

Jacqueline, always the schemer, had probably orchestrated the whole bet with Nicholas just to secure that manager position. And now she'd gotten exactly what she wanted.

But Madeleine had no intention of letting her enjoy that victory for long.

Madeleine Riley shot a glance at her father, the anger coiling inside her kept in check by a sudden, unexpected smile. "You have a point. Let's hand this project over to Jacqueline." Her words left both John Riley and Jacqueline Riley stunned. Madeleine had busted her ass to land this deal—burning the midnight oil, running herself ragged, even giving herself a stress ulcer in the process. She'd closed a multimillion-dollar contract, and now she was letting it slip away without so much as a fight.

John's face relaxed into something dangerously close to satisfaction. "Madeleine, I know how much effort you've put into this. Once things settle down, you can work under Jacqueline. After all, you're both my daughters."

"No need. I'm done with this company." Her tone was calm, almost cool, as she let her gaze drag over the father-daughter duo with a hint of mockery. She wasn't about to bust her back for anyone without a paycheck attached. John had always favored Jacqueline, so let him deal with the fallout. The new partner in London was a nightmare to negotiate with—the whole department had been pulling their hair out over him. If Jacqueline could handle the mess, soothe the shareholders, and keep the company's stock from tanking, that was her problem now.

After wrapping up the resignation paperwork, Madeleine headed straight home. She started packing for her Alps trip, pulling out the clothes and jewelry Nicholas Hawkins had given her. Back then, Nicholas had showered her with items identical to the ones he gave Jacqueline—a pathetic attempt to stir jealousy. But most of Madeleine's were knockoffs. At the time, she'd assumed Nicholas was just oblivious when it came to women's things, too embarrassed to call him out. Now she had a sinking feeling the real stuff had all gone to Jacqueline.

Madeleine gathered every last piece and posted a photo on Facebook: "Free to a good home." Nicholas wanted to gift Jacqueline the same pieces as a subtle show of favoritism? Fine. She'd make sure half the city ended up with them. The thought of Jacqueline showing up somewhere in the same outfit as a bunch of other women had her biting back a grin.

No sooner had she shipped off Nicholas's so-called gifts than her phone buzzed with a message from her brother, Ethan Silva: "Madeleine, I've got some leads on that thing you asked me to dig into. But nailing down solid evidence is going to take more time—you might have to hang tight a little longer."

Reading his words, a wave of gratitude swelled in her chest. "Thank you, bro. Sorry for the hassle."

Nicholas's people had been careful—they'd covered their tracks well when it came to the blame game. Uncovering the truth wouldn't be easy, but she wasn't in a rush. If Nicholas had a hand in it, the trail would surface eventually. People always slipped up.

Lost in thought, another message from Ethan popped up, this one carrying a heavier tone: "All these years, we were afraid our family history would make it hard for you to fit in with your birth family, so we stayed out of your life. It's on us—we're the reason you've been through so much."

That message hit her right in the chest. She realized, in that moment, that she'd never been unloved. She'd been so fixated on chasing a hopeless dream, she'd missed all the people who actually gave a damn about her.

"It's not your fault," she replied, about to explain further when another text came through—a string of numbers.

"Madeleine, while you're in Europe, you might need connections. Remember that arranged marriage offer you turned down? The Thompson family is still interested. Here's Victor's number."

"Also, his mother has serious connections there. If you ever need help, reach out to him. Mom and I think you two might just hit it off."

Ethan kept it brief. The Thompsons were one of the most prestigious families in London. Victor wasn't the heir, sure, but he had a reputation for being decent and straight-up. More importantly, his older brother basically ran the city's business empire—think prince of London. With that kind of firepower behind him, Victor could pull strings just about anywhere.

Madeleine almost turned it down—she had zero connection to this guy, after all—but her brother's gentle push made her agree to at least think about it.

"Got it, bro," she finally wrote back.

With Ethan squared away, Madeleine stared at that phone number for a long while. Then she typed out two messages.

"Hello, this is Madeleine Riley, Ethan's sister."

"I've been through some rough patches in Europe. If you don't mind, maybe we can get to know each other."

She kept it blunt. She figured a messy past didn't have to stop someone from starting fresh. And if Victor was going to hold her history against her, then marriage wasn't in the cards anyway. Who in their right mind would want someone who'd been through all that? She was being practical about it—except she'd made a tiny mistake. She typed the number wrong. Just one digit off, second-to-last.

Meanwhile, in a grand manor overlooking the bustling Thames, Victor Thompson stood by the window. The home—steeped in history, dripping with old money—glowed with warmth and luxury, the kind of place that screamed wealth without saying a word.

Victor, shrugging into an overcoat, let his gaze wander across London before glancing at his phone. Two unread messages. He paused when he saw the sender—Madeleine Riley.

He knew the Thompsons were trying to set up an arrangement between his brother and the Silva family's adopted daughter. But it looked like she'd sent her message to the wrong person, confusing him for his brother Edmund.

Victor's lips curved into a slow, amused smile as he started to type. "Miss Riley, I appreciate your honesty. I don't mind."

When Madeleine Riley read the message the next day, she was caught off guard. It was just a single line, but it lingered in her mind. Victor Thompson felt mysterious, yet strangely familiar—and that little spark of intrigue warmed her chest. She'd half-expected him to judge her for her prison stint, but he turned out to be decent, totally free of prejudice. Maybe, just maybe, she could actually give him a chance.

Since they hadn't met face-to-face yet, Madeleine kept things light—no more messages after the initial hello. But as her return to London loomed closer, so did the flutter of anticipation. That afternoon, she headed out to sort her travel documents.

Only a few days left, and her ties to Nicholas Hawkins would finally be severed. Just as she finished up the paperwork, a text buzzed in from a friend.

"Hey, sweetie, Oliver's back in town. We're throwing him a welcome bash tonight—he'd love to see you."

Oliver was an old friend, always laid-back and well-liked. He'd been her rock during the darkest stretch of her life. After a moment's hesitation, Madeleine decided to go.

"I'll be there."

She slipped into a fresh outfit and made her way to the party, completely unaware that both Jacqueline Riley and Nicholas Hawkins would be there.

The room was buzzing by the time she walked in. Jacqueline, as usual, held court, surrounded by admirers. Nicholas hovered close, gently coaxing her to lay off the coffee—their proximity said everything.

It wasn't until someone murmured, "Wait, what's Madeleine doing here? She just got out of prison—isn't she bad news?" that the room's attention swung her way. Nicholas's eyes flickered with surprise, and something close to admiration.

Jacqueline had a thing for bold, revealing Victorian-style dresses—the kind Nicholas would buy for Madeleine too. But tonight, Madeleine showed up in a simple white slip dress, hair falling soft around her shoulders, her face calm, almost otherworldly. She looked like a rare pearl just unearthed.

Someone near Nicholas whispered, "She must've dressed up for you. You've been ignoring her for days—she's probably hurting." Nicholas kept his face blank, but the corner of his mouth twitched into a smirk.

He knew she couldn't really end things. Their history as childhood sweethearts ran too deep; she was too sentimental to walk away. Everyone knew Madeleine was beautiful, but few had seen her like this. Still, the room kept its sneers—convinced she'd shown up because of him.

But Madeleine walked right past Nicholas and headed straight to Oliver. "Oliver, welcome back."

Oliver, always kind, had been studying abroad. He'd treated Madeleine like a little sister, though their bond wasn't something everyone knew about.

He gave her hair a gentle ruffle and smiled. "Well, well—looks like our Maddie's changed."

Nicholas caught the exchange, and his expression went cold. He'd see how long she could keep up this act.

Jacqueline noticed too. A flash of something sharp crossed her eyes before she bounded over, looping her arm through Madeleine's with fake warmth. "Sis, you look stunning tonight. I might just have to crown you my new favorite!" She slipped herself right between Madeleine and Oliver.

Madeleine watched the performance with a wry smile. Jacqueline always had a knack for shoving her way in where she wasn't invited—playing the loving sister when it suited her, then discarding her when it didn't.

Just as Madeleine opened her mouth to respond, someone voiced their disdain. "Oliver, do you even know? Madeleine's been in prison. Inviting someone like her to your welcome party is trashy."

Nicholas thought about stepping in, but then he remembered she'd blocked him. He sank back into his seat. Maybe she needed a reminder of where she stood without him.

Madeleine felt a chill run through her as her eyes swept past Nicholas. She had no illusions about him anymore—but he was the reason she'd ended up in prison. And still, he sat there, utterly indifferent.

She was about to respond when Jacqueline cut in, "What are you talking about? She's my sister and Nicholas's girlfriend. She just made a mistake. If Nicholas and I don't care, why should you?"

"I've been in prison, yes—but I committed no crime," Madeleine shot back coolly. "And if there's any bad luck in this room, it sure as hell isn't mine."

Her words stunned everyone silent. Several pairs of eyes darted toward Nicholas. Was she implying he was the real culprit? Had she lost her mind—or was she actually done with him?

Nicholas's brow furrowed deeper. He'd never imagined Madeleine, the girl who practically worshipped him, would talk like this out in public.

Ignoring him, Madeleine turned to Oliver, a flicker of anxiety in her eyes. "Oliver, about the prison thing—"

"Don't worry about it." Oliver cut her off gently, then swept his gaze across the room. "I invited Madeleine. If anyone here feels unlucky, you're free to leave."

Madeleine's eyes stung. Since her release, kindness like this was rare—most people just threw harsh words her way. Oliver's statement shut down every whisper, leaving everyone momentarily at a loss.

She let out a quiet breath of relief and settled down beside Oliver, who glanced thoughtfully between her and Nicholas. "So... what's going on with you and him?"