I devoted myself to cheering him up. Though his eyes remained haunted, he'd push through his own pain to reassure me.

"I'm fine, Rebecca. Don't worry."

I loved his gentleness, but I was no longer satisfied with just that.

Until one night, when he was drunk again, I gathered my courage and pressed my lips to his.

That night was painful—and blissful.

But the next morning, I found him kneeling on the floor, his eyes bloodshot with self-loathing.

When he saw I was awake, his expression twisted with disgust.

"Rebecca, how could you be so shameless?"

He said the cruelest things, told me he never wanted to see me again.

I fled the house and drank myself into oblivion.

When a friend helped me back, I saw Patrick kneeling before my father's casket, smashing his own hand over and over with the butt of a gun.

I rushed forward to stop him.

He looked at me, his eyes brimming with regret.

I pulled him into my room and, buoyed by the lingering alcohol, my fingers fumbled for his belt buckle.

"Patrick… this isn't your fault. The sin will be mine."

He pulled me into his arms, offering no resistance.

From that moment on, we were siblings in public, lovers in private.

I thought that one day, our secret would come to light.

I never understood until today… it was all just my own wishful thinking.

I packed my bags, slung the strap over my shoulder, and walked out of the house.

Just as I was about to leave, I heard Patrick's voice.

"Before you go, join us for Juliana's welcome dinner."

I followed the sound of his voice and saw, for the first time, the woman standing behind him.

Juliana smiled gently. "Rebecca, long time no see."

I forced a stiff smile. "Juliana."

She drew closer and took my hand, speaking softly about her life over the past few years.

But she ended every story the same way: “And I thought about Patrick every single day.”

I forced a smile and nodded along.

Then Juliana leaned in closer, her tone playful yet sharp. "Rebecca, tell me… has Patrick been hiding any little playthings all these years?"

A subtle challenge laced her voice as her gaze flickered to the unique black obsidian bracelet on my wrist.

I flinched, pulling my wrist back before I could think.

Juliana raised an eyebrow knowingly. "Maybe Patrick hasn't been dating… but it looks like you have a boyfriend?"

Patrick sat on the bench beside her, a low laugh rumbling in his chest.

"Rebecca is engaged to Stewart Callahan from Chicago. We'll all be there to celebrate."

Their effortless intimacy cast them as gracious hosts and me as an unwelcome guest.

I couldn't stand it a second longer. Panic rising, I shot to my feet.

"Patrick… I—I should get going."

Juliana paused, studying me for a moment, then rose gracefully. "Your bag looks heavy. Let me walk you out."

Before I could refuse, she was at my side, linking her arm with mine and leading me outside.

Along the way, she chattered about the fun times she and Patrick used to share.

We didn't stop until we reached a deserted terrace.

“Patrick seems cold, but he’s a soft touch. So soft, he can’t even say no when some little nobody throws herself at him.”

She pointed at the bracelet on my wrist, her smile twisting into a sneer.

"Rebecca… you're not the kind of cheap trash who covets the family heir, are you?"

The color drained from my face. I was rooted to the spot.

But Juliana just chuckled softly.

Then, in an instant, she let out a piercing scream and threw herself backward against the railing.

I stared, stunned, unable to process what had just happened.

Tears welled in her eyes.

"Rebecca! I know you're jealous of me, but you can't just push me!"

Before I could react, a sharp slap cracked through the air, and a burning pain exploded across my cheek.

I looked at Patrick in disbelief.

He froze, staring at his own hand as if it had betrayed him. "Rebecca, I…"

Before he could finish, fresh tears welled in Juliana's eyes.

"Patrick… maybe I shouldn't have come back. It's all my fault… If Rebecca hates me this much, maybe I should just leave."

She pushed him away, pretending to turn and run.

Patrick immediately pulled her back into his arms, his voice trembling as he soothed her.

"Juliana, I'm sorry… I never should have left you alone with her."

His voice shook with a raw fear and regret he had never once shown for me.

The sting on my cheek spread, and the reality of the situation crashed down on me.

"Patrick… I didn't push her!"

I tried to defend myself.

But Patrick's eyes were filled with disappointment.

"Are you saying Juliana threw herself against the railing? Apologize to her. If you do, I’ll allow you and your mother to remain under the family’s protection."

I went completely numb. I stubbornly sealed my lips, refusing to say a word.

Patrick’s expression turned glacial.

I looked at the face that had made my heart flutter countless times—and suddenly, I just felt tired.

In that moment, any yearning I once had to spend my life with him evaporated. All I wanted was to escape.

So I turned to Juliana. "Juliana… I'm sorry."

Patrick's eyes widened in surprise.

I had never bowed my head to anyone. This was the first time.

Juliana sobbed softly, tugging on Patrick's sleeve. "Patrick, I don't want to see her again. Let's go back and rest."

Patrick snapped back to reality, quickly taking her hand and turning to leave.

I stood frozen, watching them walk back to the main house, the one reserved for the family heir.

Patrick kissed Juliana tenderly.

Juliana wrapped her arms around his waist and began to unbutton his suit. The air crackled with the long-simmering passion between them.

Then, the heavy door clicked shut.