Only then did it click—he'd called me over this late just to watch this little show.

He handed me a cup; the chocolate cocoa warmed my hands.

Funny. Back then, discovering Alex was cheating also started with a drink.

The first time I caught him cheating was on my college graduation day.

I'd spent hours preparing all his favorite dishes, waiting for him to come home so we could celebrate together.

But unlike usual, he came back late. Very late.

Everything I'd made had gone cold.

He pushed open the front door, saw the decorations, and froze for a second—only then remembering what day it was.

He rubbed the back of his head and awkwardly handed me a cup of milk tea.

Matcha cocoa.

He'd forgotten I'm allergic to matcha.

A woman's intuition is sharp. My heart sank instantly.

Alex rushed into the bathroom, completely ignoring my mood.

That night, while he slept, I quietly unbuttoned his shirt.

Phone flashlight on. His waist, his neck—covered in kiss marks. Some fresh, some fading.

I felt like I'd fallen into an ice cave.

It was the middle of summer, yet I couldn't stop shaking.

I shook him awake, furious, demanding to know who left those marks.

Before he could even make an excuse, his phone lit up. An intimate message popped up: "Bro, last night was so much fun~"

I smashed his phone to pieces.

I cried, screaming at him—why? Why was he doing this to me? Why cheat?

I was hysterical, a madwoman smashing everything in sight. Pathetic as a clown.

He knelt at my feet, sobbing, swearing it would never happen again.

Over and over, he kowtowed, saying he was wrong.

I thought he would change.

After that, I became paranoid.

If he came home even a little late, I couldn't help but interrogate him.

And he grew more impatient. He came home less and less, always carrying the scent of unfamiliar perfume.

I didn't know how many lovers he had. Those women never showed their faces.

Until I saw it with my own eyes—him making out with a blonde in a bar.

I told him I wanted to break up.

He looked down at me, sneered. "Break up? I don't agree. You think you can just leave because you want to?"

He stroked my cheek gently, then roughly dragged me onto the bed.

His voice was demonic, breath hot against my ear. "You think you can leave?"

He pulled a USB drive from his bag and waved it in front of my face.

"Be a good girl and stay my lover. I promise you're the one I love most—the others won't affect your position."

"Otherwise... this is full of our intimate videos. Want them leaked?"

He took a long drag of his cigarette and blew all the smoke directly into my face.

I choked, coughing violently.

His gaze was ice. "In this life, don't even think about leaving me. You have no other choice. You can only choose me."

"If you still want your reputation, endure it. Otherwise..."

He shook the USB drive.

To punish me for mentioning a breakup, he locked me in the house for a month.

I lived without daylight in that room.

My heart hurt until it split open. My tears ran dry.

I didn't know when he'd filmed those videos.

Every intimate moment between us—turned into leverage to threaten me.

During that month, I couldn't eat. Sometimes just thinking about what was in those videos made me so sick I wanted to throw up.

My hair was falling out in handfuls. In the kitchen, staring at the cleaver, I actually thought about ending it right there.

That month locked inside, Alex would come by occasionally. Every time, I hoped a bottle of sleeping pills would mean I'd never have to see him again.

Days bled into nights. I couldn't tell them apart anymore.

When he found me lying on the bed, barely conscious, Alex slapped me awake.

"You'd better stay alive. Anything happens to you, your dad's next."

My father was critically ill. The treatment costs were astronomical. I'd just graduated—not a penny to my name. Alex had paid for everything. The best doctors. The best care.

He flung the medical bills in my face.

"Without me, could your dad afford any of this?"

That slap woke me up in more ways than one.

I hadn't wronged anyone. Why was I the one suffering?

If Alex could have countless lovers, why couldn't I?

He demanded I be his. He never demanded I be his alone.

Once I understood that, I accepted his terms gladly.

That was when Alex Gilbert entered my life.

I took a lover too—Alex Delgado's closest friend.

The next morning, Alex was blocking my doorway.

Face dark. Hair a mess.

"I texted you last night. Why didn't you answer?"

I was carrying out the trash. "Isn't this what you wanted?"

That sentence lit him on fire. He lunged forward, grabbed my chin, and bit down hard on my lips.

Blood flooded my mouth.

I shoved him back.

"This is what you call loving me? Wanting to marry me?"

"You went back to the States and slept with someone else."

"And now you're standing at my door."

"You're disgusting."

I said it word by word, staring straight into his eyes.

The rage in them nearly combusted. He slammed his fist into the wall.

"Just wait." He spat the words and stormed off.

My heart was pounding out of my chest.

He didn't know that right now, Alex Gilbert was still lying naked in my bed.

I didn't take the threat seriously. Usually he'd just sleep with some other girl for a night to spite me.

I didn't expect this.

Soon after, Alex sent me a photo from the hospital.

My father was in the background, unconscious on the bed.

Then a video. In it, he pointed at the oxygen tank, smiling, asking what I thought would happen if he pulled it out.

I shook so hard I could barely walk.

I grabbed a cab and burst into the ward like a madwoman.

What I saw made me bite through my lip.

My father lay still, unconscious.

And there was Alex in the chair beside him. Nurse Tanya was curled naked in his lap, arms draped around his neck.

In my father's hospital room.

The nurse looked at me, smug, shifting her body against him.

My vision went red.

"How can you be this shameless?"

Alex shoved her off and stood, smirking.

"This is what happens when you don't listen to me."

As he spoke, he walked to my father's bedside.

He looked at me smugly and reached for the oxygen mask.

"Don't!"

Rage ignited every nerve. I lunged, grabbed his hair, clawed his face, and swung my handbag straight into his skull.

Tanya tackled me to the floor.

I twisted, snatched the phone from the ground, and cracked it against her head.

Alex shoved me off. My lower back slammed into the bed frame. I tried to stand—once, twice—but the pain pinned me down.

He pulled out a coil of rope from somewhere.

Before I could react, he'd clamped my wrists together and lashed my hands and feet to the hospital bed rails.

"I've spoiled you too much."

"That's why you've forgotten your place."

I bit down hard, refusing to let a single tear fall.

But cold dread was already pooling in my chest.

Tied up. Immobilized. Helpless. I was terrified of what he'd do next.

He shoved me into the adjacent room.

All the blood drained from my face.

"What are you doing?" My voice cracked.

"I offered you the chance to be my canary. You didn't appreciate it."

"Women would kill for this opportunity. With Delgado money behind them? They'd cling to this family in a heartbeat."

He gripped my chin, forcing my gaze to his.

"I don't even have to lift a finger. They throw themselves at me."

His eyes flicked to the doorway. Tanya stood there, face arranged in worship.

"So here's what's going to happen. I'll sit right here while you reflect. The moment you admit you were wrong, I'll untie you."

He dropped into the chair across from me and let out a low, certain laugh.

Terror crashed over me. Every hair on my body stood on end.

Because I'd been tied up exactly like this before. In Eldoria. By kidnappers.

My body began to shake uncontrollably. Silently, desperately, I prayed someone would come.

When I first found Alex, I had no idea he was the Delgado heir.

He'd been hit by a car—that's why he'd lost his memory. A vagrant had stolen whatever cash he had.

I was dirt poor back then. We lived together in a cramped, run-down house in the suburbs.

One day after school, the moment I stepped out the gate, masked men dragged me into a van.

They kept saying something about "the Delgado family," "Mr. Delgado."

I didn't understand a word. I was certain I'd die in a foreign country.

Then they realized their mistake.

They'd meant to kidnap the Delgado heir—Alex—but grabbed me instead.

They tied me to a bed. Wrists and ankles bound to the frame.

Furious at their own incompetence, they decided to take it out on me.

"Wrong girl? Doesn't matter. She's pretty enough."

"Been a while since we had any fun. Might as well enjoy ourselves. Then dump her in the snow."

They rubbed their hands together. Their eyes crawled over me like I was meat on a plate.

Just when I thought it was over, Alex burst in with patrol officers and pulled me out.

He knew that memory was my nightmare. And he was using it against me anyway.

Nausea surged. I retched miserably against the mattress.

I was waiting for Alex Gilbert. He was my only hope.

Before I came, I'd told him: if I didn't message within half an hour, come to the hospital immediately.

Alex's ice-cold hand slid down my neck.

He undid the first button of my blouse.

I shuddered.

"What are you trying to do?"

I tried to kick him, but my feet were bound tight.

He looked at me with displeasure, his palm pressing down on my ankle.

"You're mine. I can do whatever I want."

Those disgusting memories surged up again.

A tear slid from the corner of my eye. Finally, I steeled myself. "Alex Delgado, I have a lover."

"Guess who it is?" I stared at him, venom in my eyes.

The smugness on his face froze instantly.

"Who?" Veins bulged on his forehead, his hand clenching into a fist.

"Your good buddy. Alex Gilbert." I pitched my voice sickly-sweet and smiled, each word a knife twisting into his chest.