I'm a wedding dress designer, and one day before the finals of the Bridal Queen Tournament, explicit photos of me are posted all over the internet.

Countless people accuse me of defiling the concept of love. They say I don't deserve to make wedding dresses, and in the end, I'm disqualified from the tournament.

The photos can only come from one person—my boyfriend, Felix Evans.

On the verge of a breakdown, I seek him out for answers. But right before I walk through the door, I hear him having a conversation with his twin, Leon Evans.

"As expected, the netizens sank their teeth into Dahlia the moment the photos were posted online. I'm guessing that she's going to be blacklisted by the entire fashion industry too. There's no way she can compete against Sylvia for the title of Bridal Queen anymore."

"Does this mean I can't pretend to be you and sleep with her anymore? Truth be told, she's pretty good in bed. She's pure, but she's also seductive."

"You should take advantage of the situation and sleep with her as much as you want then. Once Sylvia wins the title of Bridal Queen, I'm going to cut ties with Dahlia completely and officially pursue Sylvia."

Listening to their casual conversation, I feel like a sharp blade is being ruthlessly stabbed into my heart.

I don't know how I got home. After sitting in a daze the entire night, I call a studio overseas and tell them, "I'll be joining you in three days."

Dahlia's Point of View

My phone was filled with headlines such as "Dahlia Ferguson Doesn't Deserve to Make Wedding Dresses" and "Kick Dahlia Ferguson Out of the Fashion Industry".

They were like sharp blades being ruthlessly driven into my heart.

Meanwhile, my boyfriend, Felix Evans, and his twin, Leon Evans, were clinking glasses and celebrating on the other side of the door.

"Your plan worked perfectly, Felix. A wedding dress designer exposed for having a promiscuous private life—there's no way Dahlia can make wedding dresses anymore, let alone compete with Sylvia for the title of Bridal Queen."

"You deserve some credit too. You taught her all those poses, and only her face was visible in all those photos too."

They exchanged glances and smiled at each other.

I clapped a hand over my mouth, my nails digging into the tender flesh of my palm. The stinging pain reminded me that I wasn't dreaming.

The love that I had been willing to sacrifice everything for turned out to be nothing more than a cruel farce. The tender nights had merely been poison wrapped in honey.

Tears streamed down my face as I staggered outside. Everything in my vision turned blurry and warped.

Truth be told, I used to distance myself from love because of my parents' failed marriage. I was only brave enough to pour my passion into my wedding dress designs, using them as an outlet to channel my feelings.

All of that had changed when Felix appeared in my life six months ago.

There were many attractive things about him. He was handsome, rich, gentle, and thoughtful, but he was also calm and composed, and the only woman in his life was his stepsister.

I was interested in him, but I never thought of getting into a relationship with him.

Yet during a banquet, while I was being ostracized by everyone else and mocked for only knowing how to make wedding dresses, Felix invited me to have the first dance of the evening with him.

"I've always thought that love and marriage are the two most wonderful things in the world," he said. "A wedding dress is the perfect physical representation of them."

In that moment, a crack formed in the defenses I had erected around my heart.

After that, Felix publicly endorsed my work. He asked out to dinner and movies as well.

The media speculated that he was pursuing me, but my rationality told me that the two of us existed in two different worlds.

One day, I ended up staying at the studio too late, having lost track of time because I was too engrossed in my work. Just as I thought I wouldn't be able to hail a cab to go home, Felix's car appeared.

After sending me home, he held my cold hands and said, "Dahlia, will you let me send you home for the rest of our lives?"

I was dazzled by the stars sparkling in the sky that night. My mind went blank. I couldn't say a word and could only nod.

However, after we got together, Felix became a little odd.

He was cold and indifferent to me during the day. I would go days without being able to contact him whereas he used to message me every day in the past. If I sought him out, he would always ignore me to focus on his work.

But when night fell, he became extremely passionate and always tempted me into trying out bold, daring positions with him.

I wasn't fond of how different he was between night and day, but when I asked him about it, he explained that he was under a lot of pressure due to the heavy workload he had to deal with during the day. He showered me with overwhelming passion when night fell because he loved me too much.

I never would have guessed that the real reason for the drastic difference in his personality was that I had been with two different people the entire time.

Felix's enthusiastic pursuit of me had been a trap from the very beginning. He had planned to steal my work and eliminate me from the tournament for the sake of another woman.

I had no idea how I managed to get back to my home, a place filled with memories of my time with "Felix".

All the strength left my body as I leaned against the wall and slowly slid down onto the floor. My face was as pale as a sheet by then.

The night was long and silent. I hugged my knees as I sat in the dark, torturing myself by looking at the articles that were shaming me over and over again.

My numb heart finally started beating again when my phone's battery level turned red. With trembling fingers, I dialed the number of a studio in Chaldon.

"I've made my decision. I'm willing to join you."

"Trust us, Ms. Ferguson. You've made the right choice."

"Alright. I'll see you in three days."

Dahlia's Point of View

After ending the call, I switched on all the lights in the house and started packing my belongings. I only placed the things that were truly mine in the suitcases.

I threw the necklaces, bracelets, bags, and dolls that Felix and Leon had given to me into the trash. Not even the couple figurines I had once cherished like a priceless treasure were spared. Just as I threw our last photo together into the bin, Felix—or rather, Leon—returned.

He behaved as he always did, pulling me in for a kiss the moment he stepped through the door. In the past, I used to believe that was his way of proving his love to me. Now, it was nothing more than a preposterous joke.

I shoved Leon away, putting distance between myself and his handsome face that was identical to Felix's. My heart felt like it was being repeatedly pierced by a thousand needles. The overwhelming pain made it impossible to breathe, and I couldn't stop my eyes from turning red.

"Babe, why are you crying?"

Leon pulled me into his embrace as if it was second nature. His voice was low and laced with temptation.

"It's alright. I know about your photos being spread online. I'll take care of it. As for the Bridal Queen Tournament, it doesn't matter if you can or can't participate, right? Why don't you focus on being Mrs. Evans instead?"

He was an expert at steering the conversation in a different direction and tried to distract me from the fact that he was the only one who had those explicit photos of me.

Grief festered in my chest. I had so many questions. I was just about to voice them out when he pressed his lips to my neck, his hot breath fanning across my skin.

"Babe, do you have any idea how turned on I am because of the way you look right now?"

In the past, I would have allowed myself to drown in his sweet words. Even if I didn't like it, I would always shyly respond. But now, I felt nothing but disgust.

Before I could push him away, I heard him murmuring, "Syl…"

I felt like I had been struck by lightning. It turned out that Felix wasn't the only one using me for his own gain. Even Leon, who spent every night tangled in bed with me, thought of me as Sylvia Yate when he was lost in the throes of passion.

A bone-deep chill began to spread from the soles of my feet to the crown of my head. I felt as if the blood in my veins had turned to ice.

A massive wave of humiliation and repulsion crashed over me, and I could no longer control the disgust roiling in my gut.

I gagged as I rushed into the bathroom.

"Babe, what's wrong? Are you feeling ill? Shall I call the doctor?"

Leon sounded worried and anxious as if I truly were the person he cared about the most. I used to believe that was the case before everything that happened today.

But in reality, those two had used my love to trap me and strip everything I had away from me.

I lowered my head as I opened the door, doing my best to hide the fact that I was shaking. "I'm just feeling a little under the weather. You should sleep in the study tonight."

I swiftly escaped to my room after saying my piece, closing the door behind me. I only allowed myself to collapse to the floor when I heard Leon leaving the house and driving away. Tears streamed down my face as I sucked in deep breaths.

Leon didn't return for the rest of the night. In the past, I would lose sleep worrying about whether he had gone out drinking. Now, I only wanted to leave.

I didn't expect to see Felix standing outside when I opened the door the next morning. He had brought breakfast with him.

"Weren't you always whining about wanting me to eat breakfast with you? Here, I bought it for you."

Felix had suddenly transformed back to the gentle man I knew before we got together.

For a moment, I was dazed. I couldn't help but wonder if the terrible things that had happened to me yesterday were just a dream. The person I loved couldn't be such a despicable person, right?

However, his next words immediately snapped me back to reality.

"Syl accidentally lost her competition draft. You should let her use yours."

So, this was the reason why Felix was uncharacteristically showing me affection during the day. It made sense—he had only gotten together with me because of Sylvia, after all. So it wasn't surprising that he was also willing to coax me for her sake.

I stared at the man I had once dedicated my heart and soul to. I thought my heart had turned numb, but I could still feel a subtle ache.

Felix frowned when I didn't respond. His voice was cold and cruel when he said, "You've already been disqualified anyway. Instead of just throwing your draft into the trash, you might as well give it to Syl. At least your design will still have a chance to shine on stage that way."

Didn't Felix know that I had specifically designed the dress for our wedding?

He had to know, but he just didn't care. Or more accurately, this had been his true goal all along when he started dating me.

I thought I heard something shattering when my heartache reached its peak. An overwhelming sense of relief flooded me. The rose-tinted glasses I used to see Felix and this farce of a relationship through had finally shattered.

I forced myself to smile and nodded. "Sure."

Dahlia's Point of View

Perhaps given how compliant I usually was, Felix wasn't surprised by how easily I agreed to his unreasonable request.

"Go ahead and have breakfast. I'll send the draft to Syl."

He hurried out the door after eagerly taking the draft from me. He didn't even bother sparing a single glance back at me, as if he wasn't the one who suggested that we have breakfast together in the first place.

"How could you be so blind in the last two months, Dahlia?" I muttered to myself. "How could you have mistaken his schemes for love?"

I let out a self-deprecating laugh. I threw the breakfast Felix had bought me in the trash before leaving the house as well.

I needed to sell my house and studio before I left the country, and I also had to compile all my previous designs into a portfolio to make it easy for me to start working once I landed in Chaldon.

I was busy packing the things in my studio when the door was slammed open with a deafening bang.

A few men stumbled into the studio on unsteady feet, their eyes unfocused and their bodies reeking of alcohol. Wicked smiles stretched on their faces when they spotted me, making my skin crawl.

"Are you still able to design wedding dresses, Ms. Ferguson? Shall my friends and I give you some inspiration?"

"We can inspire you by tearing off the wedding dress after you put it on!"

"Get out of my studio right now! I'll call the police if you don't!"

My hands were trembling violently as I pointed a pair of scissors at them. However, my threat was completely ineffective against them.

The drunkards cornered me excitedly and began pulling at my clothes.

"Your explicit photos are all over the internet. What's the point in pretending to be innocent now?"

They easily pried the pair of scissors out of my hands and tossed them aside. They hit the ground with a loud, ear-piercing clang.

I was forcefully turned around and pinned against the workbench. The cold surface dug into my flesh painfully. The stench of alcohol and cigarettes stung my nose and nearly made me suffocate.

Rough hands began to tear at my clothes. A wave of hopelessness crashed over me, threatening to drown me in its freezing waters.

Suddenly, the door was kicked open, revealing Leon with bloodshot eyes. He ran toward us and pulled the drunkards off me before chasing them out of the studio like a ferocious lion. He then wrapped his jacket securely around my shaking body.

"It's alright, babe. There's nothing to be afraid of. I'm here now."

My mind had gone blank. Being subjected to nonstop attacks for two days had left me in an incredibly fragile and vulnerable state.

I instinctively buried my face in Leon's chest, clinging to him like a drowning man clinging on to a piece of floating wood, treating him like my savior.

Leon carried me home. He wiped the tears from my eyes and pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead. His eyes were overflowing with pity when he said, "It's alright. Sleep. I'll watch over you."

I was physically and mentally exhausted, and I ended up falling asleep to the familiar rhythm of his patting.

It was already the next morning when I woke up again. I headed downstairs on bare feet in search of Leon, only to stumble upon him on the phone with someone.

"Nonsense. She would never willingly hand over the physical wedding dress if I didn't set up this elaborate act. Syl said that only the original designer is capable of creating certain parts of that dress…"

I didn't hear the rest of his conversation. It was as if the entire world had fallen silent, leaving only a persistent, piercing buzzing in my ears, grinding away at my nerves.

So, it had all been another farce.

Leon's promises to protect and care for me were simply another type of trap. He just wanted to squeeze every last drop of usefulness out of me to make it easier for Sylvia to trample all over me and use me as a stepping stone to reach the pinnacle of success.

Black spots exploded across my vision, and I nearly lost my balance.

"Why didn't you wear your slippers before coming downstairs, babe?"

When Leon spotted me after he finished the call, his face immediately morphed into a gentle and caring expression. He grabbed my slippers for me and knelt down, carefully helping me put them on. When he looked up at me, his eyes shone with concern.

"Did you have a nightmare? Don't worry, I'm here."

Disgust roiled in my gut as I watched his spectacular performance. Strangely, my turbulent emotions calmed down. After suffering this final blow, my battered heart finally stopped bleeding as ice frosted over it.

Then, I heard myself speak in an uncharacteristically calm and lighthearted tone.

"You only took the draft yesterday. The actual dress is still on the mannequin in the studio. I just modified some of the details. You should take it to Sylvia too. She should be able to put it to good use."

Leon's eyes lit up with pleasure as his plans came to fruition.

"You know exactly what I want, babe!"

He kissed me happily before rushing out of the door with an eager skip to his step.

I remained rooted to the spot as I watched him disappear through the door. Tears welled up in my eyes and flowed uncontrollably down my cheeks.

I wasn't crying because I was sad. I was simply mourning the Dahlia of the past—the idiot who was constantly lied to and toyed with.

Just then, my phone vibrated in my pocket. The airline company had sent me a reminder regarding my imminent flight. I turned off the reminder and wiped the tears from my face.

I no longer hesitated as I headed upstairs, changed into a fresh set of clothes, and grabbed the suitcases I had packed beforehand. I didn't look back even once as I left the house that was filled with nothing but lies and betrayal.