I matured faster than other girls my age.

At my eighteenth birthday party, my overprotective brother, Cole, asked his best friend to watch over me.

But from the moment we met, the man’s eyes burned with a raw desire. His gaze was a thorny vine that wrapped around me and wouldn't let go.

After graduating from college, I became his senior executive assistant. By day, he was my boss. By night, he was the lover who claimed my body.

For four years, we carried on this secret affair.

He molded me into the woman he desired, and I mistook his control for love.

Then one day, his ex-fiancée, Cassidy Hayes, returned from Europe. Without a second thought, he left my bed in the middle of the night to pick her up from the airport.

Humiliated and furious, I still followed him like some pathetic puppy, only to watch him tenderly kiss another woman on a park bench.

He turned, saw me, and sneered, "This was never anything more than a game, Willow Ashton. And you... you look pathetic."

The more tenderly he looked at her, the more cruelly he mocked me.

That's when it hit me. He was right. None of this had ever meant a thing.

So I lowered my head, sent a text to Cole accepting the arranged marriage with the Lancaster family, then looked up at the man with a smile more liberating than any I’d worn in four years.

"Fine. We're done."

————————

1

It wasn't long before Cole Ashton called.

Even over the phone, I could hear the relief in his voice. He assumed I had finally moved on from the man I’d loved for years.

What he didn't know was that the man I was madly in love with... was his best friend, Rhys Sterling.

After hanging up, I grabbed the resignation letter I had already prepared and headed to the HR department. However, the process stalled at the very last step.

"Ms. Ashton, because yours is a core position, an exit within the week requires the CEO's personal signature for approval," the HR Director said, an apologetic look on her face.

Of course. Rhys. Even now, at the very end, I couldn't escape him.

I clutched my phone, walked to the end of the empty hallway, and dialed the number I knew by heart.

The phone rang for what felt like an eternity.

Just as I thought it would go to voicemail, the call connected. But the voice that answered wasn't his deep timber—it was a woman's, light and unfamiliar.

"Hello? Looking for Rhys? He's in the shower..."

In the shower.

The words were a thousand poisoned needles lancing through my chest. Despite this, years of professional training kept my voice steady, almost detached.

"Never mind. Thank you."

I hung up before she could say another word. The dark screen reflected my pale, drawn face.

Less than two minutes later, my phone buzzed violently. I stared at Rhys's name on the screen for a few seconds, took a deep breath, and answered.

"What is it?"

His tone was all business, cold and distant. Just last night, this same man had been on top of me, whispering my name like a prayer.

My knuckles whitened around the resignation letter.

"Mr. Sterling, I have a personnel change document that requires your signature."

He let out a low "Mm," then added as an afterthought, "Oh, right. Come by later and pack up your things. Cassidy is moving in."

"My place on the West Side is empty. You can move in there." His tone was infuriatingly casual, a thin veil for his patronizing pity. "I promised Cole I'd take care of you."

Four years ago, he'd drunkenly pulled me into his bed and made me his mistress. Four years later, to make room for the rightful lady of the house, he was offering me a new cage, cloaking it as a duty to his best friend.

The sheer audacity of his "kindness" was laughable.

"That won't be necessary, Mr. Sterling," I said, forcing a smile. "I'm an adult. I can take care of myself."

Once he signed the letter and I completed the final handover, our absurd four-year charade would be over for good.

And me? I was getting married.

Morning sunlight streamed into the hotel room as I opened my eyes. For the first time in years, I felt more clear-headed than I ever had waking up beside Rhys.

I called an Uber and returned to the ocean-view penthouse I had inhabited for four years. The moment I stepped inside, however, I thought I was in the wrong house.

The minimalist space that had once been ours was now drowning in opulent, unfamiliar decor.

In a corner, all my personal belongings were piled up like trash—a heap of what I had once cherished.

The out-of-print book of poetry Rhys had given me lay desecrated—pages scattered, the imprint of a stiletto heel marring its cover beyond recognition.

Rhys was standing by the floor-to-ceiling window, sipping coffee. He turned at the sound and sighed softly.

"None of this is worth much. Just toss it. If you need anything, make a list. I'll have accounting expense it."

Not worth much?

My gaze fell on the shattered poetry book.

Tucked inside was the first love note he had ever written me, the foolish proof of a future I once believed in.

I picked up the broken cover and, under Rhys's astonished gaze, tossed it into the nearby trash can with the rest of the debris.

"You're right, Mr. Sterling." I dusted off my hands and gave a faint smile. "Things that aren't valuable should be thrown away when they get dirty or broken."

Including my foolish, misplaced feelings.

I ignored the way his expression darkened, lowered my head, and pulled the resignation letter from my bag.

"Mr. Sterling, this is my—"

Before I could finish, his phone rang.

In the quiet living room, Cassidy Hayes's voice came through, crystal clear.

"Rhys, it's raining. Come pick me up."

The gloom on his face vanished, replaced by an urgent concern. Without a second glance at the document in my hand, he scribbled his name at the bottom.

"Get a cab. Text me when you get back."

He threw the words over his shoulder, grabbed his car keys, and rushed out.

As Rhys drove away, the drizzle turned into a downpour.

The apartment was halfway up a hill in Queen Anne, making it impossible to hail a cab. I opened my umbrella and started the long walk down against the wind.

My foot slipped on the wet pavement, and I went down hard. A sharp, grinding pain shot up from my knee and elbow.

Ignoring the sting, my first instinct was to clutch my bag. My signed resignation was inside. If it got wet, I’d have to see him again, and that was the last thing I wanted.

Just then, a familiar black Bentley sped towards me.

Instead of slowing, it accelerated, sending a wave of muddy water crashing over me. I was drenched from head to toe.

Through the passenger window, I saw her: Cassidy, makeup flawless, sitting beside Rhys. He was smiling tenderly at her, completely oblivious to the woman who looked like a drowned rat on the side of the road.

I clenched my jaw as a salty taste filled my mouth. Rain or tears, I couldn't tell the difference.

I hauled myself up from the cold, wet pavement. A fiery pain shot through my knee, but I straightened my spine and walked in the opposite direction of the car.

On my final day, I was in the office finishing the handover. My desk was already cleared, but the last hour dragged on.

My phone lit up. A message from Rhys.

[Black coffee. Half sugar, with cinnamon.]

Technically, for this last hour, I was still his assistant. I had to see it through.

I prepared the drink, took a deep breath, and knocked on his office door.

The moment I entered, I froze.

Cassidy was lying on the sofa, her head resting on Rhys's lap as he gently massaged her temples.

In the four years I was with him, whenever a late night at the office left my head throbbing, all he ever did was coldly toss me a bottle of ibuprofen.

"Don't let it affect your work, Willow," was all he'd say.

The pathetic fool I’d been had mistaken his coldness for "professionalism," deluding myself in this clandestine affair.

I walked past them, expressionless, and placed the cup on his desk.

"Mr. Sterling, your coffee."

I turned to leave, but Cassidy suddenly sat up.

"Wait." Her gaze swept over me, critical and hostile. "You're... Cole Ashton's sister?"

Before I could answer, she slapped me. Hard.

My ears rang as a burning sting blossomed on my cheek.

Rhys shot to his feet, startled.

"Cassidy, what are you doing?"

Her eyes welled with tears as she rounded on Rhys, pointing an accusing finger at me while playing the perfect victim.

"She's an Ashton! She could live like a princess, but she insists on being your assistant. Don't tell me she doesn't have designs on you! She's trying to take my place!"

The air went still.

Rhys's gaze flickered to my swollen cheek before he turned and gently pulled Cassidy into his arms, wiping away her tears.

His voice was soft, laced with resignation and undisguised adoration.

"Even if she does... it's one-sided. My heart only has room for you. She's just a good employee, that's all."

A triumphant smirk flashed across Cassidy's face as she nestled into his arms, her voice a sweet coo.

"Then fire her! I don't want to see her face again!"

Rhys's brow furrowed almost imperceptibly, a flicker of hesitation in his eyes.

Seeing it, Cassidy, apparently unsatisfied, snatched the hot coffee from the desk.

The next second, she shrieked, sending the entire cup of coffee flying at me with a theatrical flick of her wrist.

"Ah! Rhys, it's hot! The cup was so slippery!"

The scalding liquid splashed across my arm, the searing pain almost making me cry out.

But Cassidy, who only caught a few drops on her fingertips, screamed as if the air would shatter.

As she clutched her reddened fingers, Rhys's face turned to stone.

His cold gaze locked onto me, completely missing the angry red burn spreading across my bare arm.

"Willow! You've been with me for four years, and you can't even handle a simple task? Did you do this to Cassidy on purpose?"

Before I could explain, he had already buzzed his chief secretary.

"Ms. Miller, Ms. Ashton has made a grave error. Withhold her entire severance package! And I want her mistake announced at next week's company meeting!"

Paige Miller walked in and froze, taking in the scene. She shot me an uneasy glance before saying softly.

"But, Mr. Sterling... Ms. Ashton has already resigned..."

The moment she finished, Cassidy gasped, cried out in pain, and collapsed limply into Rhys's arms.

"Rhys, if you're so eager to protect your precious assistant, then I'll leave... and I'll never come back!"

Rhys's pupils constricted. He ignored Paige completely, holding Cassidy tight.

"Cassidy, don't! Please..."

His glare was a shard of ice, cutting right through me.

"Willow, if there's a next time, you can crawl back to your family! I won't let you off, not even if Cole himself comes begging! Now, get out!"

My burned arm throbbed, and cold sweat slicked my temples. My heart had gone numb, and the physical pain was just a dull, distant echo.

"Don't worry, Mr. Sterling. There won't be a next time."

He clearly didn't expect that answer. For a moment, he was stunned. But without another word, he swept Cassidy into his arms.

"Let's go. We're going to the private clinic."

When his eyes swept over the blistering skin on my arm, his brow furrowed deeper.

"You come too. I won't have anyone saying I mistreat my employees."

Worried about infection, I said nothing and followed.

In the back of the car, my phone buzzed. A message from Rhys.

[I was emotional. But I've already lost Cassidy once—I can't lose her again. If you're upset, I'll make it up to you.]

I stared at the words, then at the man in the front seat, fussing over Cassidy as if she were made of glass.

The absurdity of it all made me want to laugh. Did he really think I was still the same girl who would come running at the crook of his finger?

Without a second thought, I blocked his number.

The next second, a friend request popped up. It was from my arranged-marriage fiancé, Graham Lancaster.

We’d met once, years ago...

I took a slow breath and pressed [Accept].