"Cough..." She tried to pry his fingers away, but Ethan's grip was way too strong. "Let... let go..."

Ethan's words squeezed through his teeth, each one sharp and heavy. "Who told you you had the guts?"

What the hell?

"What are you even talking about? I seriously... I don't get it..."

"Heh... tried and failed to seduce me, and now you're switching to Liam because you're scared of losing the title of Mrs. Shaw?"

Her brain froze for a second, then her heart sank like a rock.

'No way. Celeste, what kind of wild stuff did you do before? You tried to seduce Ethan?!'

Even if you were lonely, you wouldn't seriously go after a man in a wheelchair, would you? Or... were you actually into the guy?

"Let me go - I can't breathe..." Her voice shook, and her eyes welled up. She smacked his arm over and over, genuinely panicking.

It wasn't until she looked like she might actually pass out that Ethan let go.

Celeste collapsed to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut, gasping and touching the marks he left on her neck.

"Cough..." Seriously? Was he trying to choke the life out of her?

Are all men this damn aggressive?

"Get lost!" Ethan barked, shoving his wheelchair back a little. Fury simmered in his voice and eyes as he glared at her.

So he's not gonna press charges?

But when she reached up and felt how close she'd come to having her neck snapped, Celeste zipped her mouth. She gave a quick "okay," climbed to her feet, and slipped out of the bedroom, carefully closing the door behind her.

The second that door clicked shut, it hit her.

With Ethan's cold and aloof nature, no way he'd let the world know if his wife had cheated on him with his own brother. That'd ruin his pride, plain and simple.

But then another reality smacked her - he kicked her out of the bedroom, so... where the hell was she supposed to sleep?

This was getting ridiculous.

She looked around and noticed a small guest room right next to Ethan's.

Celeste pushed open the door. It was modest - a small bed, a wardrobe, and a bathroom.

Whatever. Better here than risk getting strangled by a pissed-off rich guy in a wheelchair.

Night fell. The breeze was cool, and she lay under a thin blanket, but sleep didn't come easy. Her mind kept flashing with scenes that had been buried deep.

A black Rolls-Royce crushed by a massive truck at an intersection, flames roaring as if the whole world was burning. Two charred bodies were pulled from the wreckage by medics.

That was her mom and dad.

The headline on a black-and-white newspaper read: [Major Crash in Yannburgh Outskirts at 5 AM-Business Tycoon Jonathan Goodwin and Wife Killed]. [Heiress Isabella Goodwin Missing... Fiancé Oliver Larson Currently in Custody and Offering a $5 Million Reward for Her Whereabouts.]

Ha... Oliver. Larson.

His name still hit sharp, like a dagger straight to the heart.

She used to be Isabella. And Oliver? The man she once loved with everything she had.

But in the end, all she got in return was betrayal. He actually wished death on her entire family.

She remembered that day clearly. She'd been running for her life, chased by a group of thugs, and only when she jumped into the sea did she finally realize - it had all been Oliver's scheme from the beginning.

He wanted her dead more than anyone.

So, Oliver, are you happy now?

You got the Goodwin fortune. You're living it up with the woman you really love.

But don't get too comfortable - I'm coming for what you owe me.

When Celeste woke up, her eyes were still wet with tears as she scanned the room. Her gaze finally landed on the clock-it was nearly ten.

She couldn't believe she'd slept that late.

Grabbing a simple set of loungewear from the closet, she pulled the collar up to hide the marks on her neck from yesterday. As she made her way downstairs, she silently prayed she wouldn't run into that disabled eldest son.

To her relief, Ethan was nowhere in sight. Liam wasn't there either.

The living room was buzzing with activity. Sophie was hovering over Grace Shaw, showing her how to make dumplings. Mr. Shaw sat on the couch, glasses perched on his nose, eyes fixed on the finance channel.

"Mom," Celeste greeted softly as she walked in.

Sophie's face immediately turned cold. She glanced at the wall clock, eyebrows raised.

"Do you even know what time it is? First day back and you're already slacking off. What, you think you're some pampered princess now?"

Grace, lazily shaping a dumpling, chimed in without looking up. "Must've been tough in prison. Poor sister-in-law's probably so wiped out, she forgot breakfast was even a thing."

Breakfast was her job?

So basically, Celeste's role in this house was daughter-in-law slash housekeeper?

"What's wrong, did jail fry your brain?" Grace smirked, arching her thin brows when Celeste stayed quiet.

Snapping out of her thoughts, Celeste offered a polite smile. "Not at all. If breakfast's what you want, I'll go make something right now. I promise it'll be just how you like it."

Ignoring the way Sophie's and Grace's expressions soured, she calmly turned and headed toward the kitchen.

"Is she for real? Totally nutty. Look at the time, who even wants her breakfast?" Grace grumbled under her breath. Before, Celeste would just silently take the hits with that pitiful, wronged look of hers.

Now she was smiling like nothing could get to her?

"Guess the prison guards knocked something loose in her head."

Sophie took one of the dumplings from Grace and frowned. "This one's a mess. You gotta fold it like this, see?"

In the kitchen, staring at the rows of oils, sauces, and veggies, Celeste's head started pounding. She seriously had no clue how to make breakfast. Back when she was living with the Goodwins, not setting the kitchen on fire already counted as a success.

Still, she bit the bullet, grabbed a steak from the fridge, tossed in some chopped scallions and an egg, and tried to fry it up. She vaguely remembered the maid used to cook it this way.

Trouble was, she totally messed up the heat. By the time she picked the steak up from the pan, it looked like a chunk of charcoal-pitch black and crispy.

Panicking, she tried to make it look better by dusting it with a little flour and covering it with some cumin and chili powder before bringing it out.

Grace took one bite, and her face instantly twisted. That delicate, doll-like expression collapsed in a second.

"Ugh!"

She spat it out like it was poison, slammed her fork on the table, and snapped, "Seriously, sis-in-law, you did this on purpose, didn't you? Trying to poison me like your whole 'accidental death' thing again, huh?"

"That bad?" Sophie looked skeptical. She had thought Celeste at least knew how to cook.

To check for herself, she picked up the knife and fork, took a bite-and her face turned from pale to purple in seconds.

Celeste looked sincerely apologetic. "Oh no... was it that bad? Sorry, I guess my hands shook a bit. Got my head bashed in pretty bad while I was locked up, needed stitches. Fingers got broken too, so maybe I went a little heavy on the seasoning."

Her tone was so genuine, like she had no idea she'd done anything wrong. No matter how furious Grace looked, Celeste kept that calm, sweet smile on her face, like a breeze on a spring day.

Sophie's eyes flickered with something unreadable.

"You totally did that on purpose! If you didn't want to make breakfast, just say so! Don't go pulling some stunt like this!" Grace practically exploded. She'd always hated how Celeste was all meek and quiet-how was someone like that even worthy of her brother Ethan?

So she didn't bother hiding the sharp edge in her words. She'd already made up her mind to kick Celeste out of the Shaw family someday.

"But Grace, that's not fair... I really tried. I just... I'm not good at this," Celeste said, eyes slightly red-rimmed as she looked like she was holding back tears.

"You-!"

Everything was about to blow up in the living room when-

"Done talking yet? If you're done, shut up already. My ears are ringing-I can't even watch the news in peace."

Mr. Shaw, sitting alone on the couch, suddenly spoke up and tapped his cane on the floor twice with a loud "thud thud."

Sophie shot Grace a sharp look. Grace instantly went silent. "Got it, Grandpa."

Mr. Shaw only had one son, Edward Shaw-Sophie's husband and Ethan's father-who'd flown to Farond a month ago for business. So right now, the family was basically under the old man's management.

He was a retired official, after all. Still carried that old-school discipline about him.

The finance channel was playing, talking about how the Goodwin Group had been officially taken over by Oliver. The tragic accident that killed the couple from the Goodwin family had been ruled a car crash.

And their daughter, Isabella, was also listed among the deceased.

Celeste stared at the TV, eyes fixed and glassy, her fists clenched as tears crept quietly down her cheeks.

Upstairs at the villa's second-floor landing, a man in a wheelchair was quietly observing everything going on downstairs, his gaze intense.

There was no denying it-Celeste had changed. A lot.

The whole day passed and she still hadn't seen Ethan. The man was always coming and going like a ghost, who knew what he was up to.

Late that night, loud crashes and metallic clanks rang from the room next to hers. It even sounded like a wheelchair had tipped over.

Celeste, a light sleeper to begin with, shot up in bed and groaned, dragging her hands through her messy hair.

She tried to ignore it, pulled the covers over her head-but no luck. The noise just wouldn't stop.

With a sigh, she finally slipped on her slippers and padded over to the next room.

She knocked a few times, but no one answered.

'What if something bad happened?'

The thought jolted her fully awake.

Without another thought, she pushed the door open-and instantly froze.

Ethan was lying on the floor beside the bed.

Next to him, a young woman dressed way too sexy for this hour was kneeling nervously, stammering, "I'm really sorry, sir, I didn't mean to... if you're upset, I won't come again..."

"...Did I, uh... interrupt something?" Celeste asked cautiously, but didn't move an inch.

Ethan's face had gone completely dark, especially now that someone he clearly couldn't ignore was standing at the door.

"Get out!" he barked.

"Yes... sorry, I'm leaving now..." the girl mumbled, head down, and darted past Celeste, not even properly dressed. As she passed, she muttered a timid, "Good evening, Mrs. Shaw."

Celeste blinked, confused. What the heck just happened?

"This woman..."

The thought barely formed before she felt a cold, cutting glare slice her way.

"You done staring?" Ethan asked, voice sharp as ever.

"Yeah, all done," she blurted.

"Then get out," he snapped.

"Right..."

Seriously, did this guy only know how to say that one line?

Celeste reached for the door and started to close it, ready to leave.

"Wait." His voice rang out again from behind her-low and unreadable.