Leo couldn’t hold back any longer. He shot to his feet, stormed over, and snatched the glass of brandy out of Nina’s hand.

His expression was icy as he snapped, “Did you forget what the doctor said? You’re still drinking?”

His voice was so sharp it silenced the room. Everyone turned to look.

Nina, slightly tipsy, smiled even more alluringly.

“Leo, you’re still as cautious as ever. Don’t worry, I know my limits.”

One of the directors, already drunk, chuckled. “Mr. Carter is still head over heels for you! I remember when you filmed a kissing scene, he stormed the set!”

Another tipsy guest laughed and added, “It’s true! Leo is the ultimate romantic. Once he loves someone, it’s till the end of time—passionate, unyielding, unchanging!”

Nina quickly tried to downplay it. “Don’t misunderstand. My stomach’s not in great shape, and he’s just worried I might get another stomach bleed.”

Leo instinctively glanced at Tara, then around the room at the curious, gossiping eyes. Grabbing Nina’s wrist, he muttered, “We’ll talk outside,” and pulled her away.

Tara felt a twinge of bitterness and a complicated mix of emotions.

Leo was five years older than her and always carried himself with maturity, composure, and a sense of dignity. No matter what happened, he handled things calmly.

Yet here he was, losing his composure in public—a side of him she had never seen before.

She could feel the weight of everyone’s stares, their curiosity and judgment making her skin crawl.

Quietly, she stood and stepped out onto the terrace.

The night air was cool, and the terrace was dimly lit.

Soft light spilled out from the banquet hall, casting faint shadows.

She found a chair tucked into the corner and sat down. Looking up, she caught sight of Leo and Nina arguing heatedly by the flowerbed.

The argument escalated until, in a fit of frustration, Leo turned on his heel to walk away.

Nina reached out to grab his arm, but he pulled away sharply. Her balance faltered in her high heels, and she twisted her ankle, falling straight into the flowerbed.

Hearing the commotion, Leo rushed over and pulled her out.

It seemed like she was hurt—her ankle badly twisted.

Without hesitation, Leo scooped Nina into his arms and hurried to the red luxury car. He gently placed her in the passenger seat and drove off, leaving behind a single silver high heel near the flowerbed.

With the main players gone, the party quickly fizzled out. Guests trickled out one by one.

Tara returned to the banquet hall, now scattered with leftovers and wilting decorations. The festive atmosphere had vanished, leaving behind an empty, dismal scene.

The waitstaff, cleaning up the mess, cast her sympathetic, curious glances.

Her white high heels crunched softly against the rose petals scattered on the floor as she walked out of the hall.

The red car was gone, driven away by Leo.

“Miss,” a voice called from behind her.

Tara froze, her heart skipping a beat. The voice sounded familiar.

She turned and saw a man with sandy blond hair and sharp features, clearly of mixed heritage. He looked to be in his thirties, with deep-set eyes and a prominent nose.

His appearance was decent enough, but his gaze carried an unsettling mix of slyness and malice that made her uncomfortable.

He extended his hand. “I'm Wesley Lima from Genovia.”

Tara didn’t take his hand and turned away without a word.

Awkwardly, Wesley withdrew his hand. “I’m a friend of Leo’s. It’s hard to find a cab out here. I can give you a ride home.”

Tara declined coolly. “No need. The club provides transportation.”

With an annual membership fee of half a million, the club had dedicated chauffeur services. Tara walked toward a car parked nearby.

Wesley watched her retreating figure, his gaze lingering on her flawless silhouette. He tilted his head, licked his lips, and flashed a wicked, determined grin.

“No wonder Leo stuck with her for three years. She’s clearly exceptional,” he thought to himself.

Tara felt his stare like needles on her back. Sliding into the club’s car, she glanced out the window and saw Wesley still standing there, leering at her with an unsettling expression.

The memory of his phone conversation with Leo flashed through her mind, making her stomach churn with disgust.

She gave the driver her address and urged him, “Let’s go.”

Feeling bored during the ride, she glanced at her phone. The internet was buzzing, with four of the top trending topics centered around Leo, Nina, and herself:

“Leo spotted rushing Nina to the city hospital, visibly anxious—rumors swirl about severe injuries and possible disfigurement!”

“Leo hosts a birthday party for his new girlfriend. Ex-girlfriend Nina crashes with her blessings—followed by a secret garden rendezvous!”

“Leo’s new girlfriend looks strikingly similar to Nina—real-life drama unfolds!”

“Six years later, are Leo and Nina rekindling their romance, or did it never really end?”

Photos, videos, and so-called "evidence" accompanied each headline.

One photo, crystal clear and high-definition, showed Tara handing Nina a slice of cake. The two of them stood side by side, drawing endless comparisons.

Nina’s fans flooded the comments. Some sent their blessings, hoping the two "soulmates" would end up together. Others directed venom at Tara, urging her to back off and stop being the “third party.”

Many fans speculated that Nina’s injury was caused by Tara’s jealousy and revenge, leaving a barrage of hateful and vile comments under her name.

Only a handful of sympathetic voices stood up for Tara, but they were drowned out in the chaos.

Tara trembled with anger.

“Who gave anyone permission to post my photos?” she fumed.

The club was known for its discretion, and guest privacy was a top priority. Photos or videos couldn’t possibly have been released without prior approval.

That meant Leo, as the host, must have at least consented to it.

Fuming, Tara immediately sent legal notices to the websites for infringing on her image rights.

Within two minutes, the photos and videos involving her were taken down.

But it was too late. Thousands of people had already downloaded and shared the content, and it continued to spread in private accounts and comment threads.

By the time Tara returned to the villa, her anger had faded, leaving behind a cold calmness.

Walking into the living room, she saw the framed photos of her and Leo displayed everywhere. To her, they felt like a cruel joke.

Tara kicked off her heels, tossed her bag aside, and began taking down every framed photo in the villa.

She removed the pictures, burned them one by one, and threw the empty frames away.

She hadn’t realized just how many there were.

The living room, the hallway, the bedroom, the study, the gym, the walk-in closet—walls, shelves, tables—they were everywhere.

As she worked, her phone rang.

Seeing that it was her father, she answered, only to be met with his angry voice. “Tara, what’s going on online? How could a scandal like this come out now?”

Feeling drained, Tara sank onto the carpet and replied softly, “Dad…”

Her nose stung, and her throat tightened.

Hearing her tone, Joe’s voice immediately softened. “Don’t cry, sweetheart. Don’t cry. I’m here. We won’t let them get away with this! Leave it to me. I’ll make sure those websites pay for this!”

The warmth of Joe’s concern broke down the last of her defenses. Tara covered her mouth, choking back sobs as the night’s frustrations poured out.

Joe sighed. “There’s no use crying now. But I’ll deal with Leo and that woman for you!”

Tara wiped away her tears. “No need, Dad. I was just too foolish and naive. This is my own fault. Besides, I’ve already decided to move abroad. Let’s just leave it at that.”

Joe let out a frustrated sigh, torn between wanting to scold her and not wanting to hurt her. “You… you’re impossible.”

But his heart ached for her.

After asking about the progress of her immigration paperwork, Tara ended the call. She took a long shower and went to bed.

Leo didn’t come home that night.

There were no calls, no messages.

When Tara woke the next morning, the sun was already high.

The first thing she did was check her phone. All of her photos and videos had been completely wiped from the internet.

As she sat down to breakfast, Leo returned.

He was still wearing the same clothes from the day before. His hair was disheveled, his eyes bloodshot, and his stubble was unkempt.

It was obvious he hadn’t rested all night.

Sitting across from her, Leo’s voice was low and demanding. “Did you file a lawsuit over the online photos?”

Tara dabbed her lips with a napkin and met his gaze. “Yes, I have to protect my rights.”

Leo spoke in a detached, business-like tone. “The company has already signed Nina. She just returned to the country, and we need to generate publicity for her. I’ll give you 50 million if you drop the lawsuit and allow the use of your photos and videos for promotion.”

Tara’s lips curled into a mocking smile. “Mr. Carter, I’m not one of your employees. I have neither the obligation nor the desire to cooperate with your publicity stunts.”

Leo’s sharp brows knitted together as he slammed his glass of milk back onto the table, his cold eyes locking onto her.

“Jealous? Angry about last night?” he asked, his tone icy. “Nina hurt her face and foot so I had to rush her to the hospital. Her looks are her livelihood. She can’t afford to be scarred.”

Tara smiled faintly. “I’m not angry. Do whatever you want to promote her, just don’t drag me into it. Understand?”

Leo’s gaze turned steely, his voice dropping further. “You’ve always been obedient and sensible. I hope you won’t disappoint me.”

Tara’s tone remained calm. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Carter, but I’m standing by my boundaries.”

Leo stared at her, as if he couldn’t quite process the change.

He lit a cigarette, taking a deep drag and exhaling a swirl of smoke.

Under the hazy cloud, his handsome, tired face carried an air of indulgent decadence.

After a few puffs, he seemed to regain his composure. Snuffing out the cigarette in the ashtray, he walked over and sat beside Tara, pulling her into his arms.

In a low voice, he said, “Alright, we won’t use your photos and videos. Don’t be upset anymore. How about 20 million to drop the lawsuit? Going up against those reporters and influencers could hurt the company’s reputation.”

As he spoke, he kissed her ear, his hand sliding to the collar of her shirt.

Since it was Leo’s company involved, Tara decided she would agree to drop the lawsuit. She figured she might as well treat it as compensation for the three years she had spent with him.

After all, he had always been a satisfying lover.

Just as she was about to nod, Leo’s phone rang.

With one arm still wrapped around her, he pulled out his phone and glanced at the screen before answering. He spoke in Genovian.

“Wesley, what’s up?”

Wesley’s voice was laced with mischief. “Did you get Tara to agree to drop the lawsuit? Those reporters and influencers are holding Nina accountable for the whole mess, and she’s in tears from the pressure.”

Leo replied lazily, “Do you think she wouldn’t agree?”

Wesley chuckled darkly. “Man, I envy you. Honestly, I’m really into Tara. Since you’ve got Nina now, why don’t you hand Tara over to me? Even just for fun.”

Leo’s grip around Tara tightened, his voice cold. “Get lost.”

But Tara had heard everything clearly.

She had assumed earlier that Leo’s vague comments meant the issue was just a PR stunt orchestrated by his company.

Now, she realized the truth. It was all Nina’s doing.

Leo hung up the phone, kissed Tara lightly on the cheek, and urged her, “Call your lawyer and drop the lawsuit.”

Tara’s voice was cold. “I’m not dropping it.”

Leo’s expression darkened instantly. He stood up and looked down at her, his tone sharp. “Can you stop being difficult? My company is taking a hit. What good does this do you?”

Tara stood her ground. “Your team and those reporters and bloggers know the laws about privacy and image rights, don’t they? Yet they still broke them. Why? I’m the one who was wronged, but instead of holding them accountable, you’re here trying to cut a deal with me. Why?”

Leo’s icy gaze locked on her, his voice filled with disappointment. “You’re not even recognizable to me anymore. Jealousy really does make people ugly.”

With that, he pushed his chair back with a loud screech, the sound echoing his anger, and stormed upstairs.

Tara watched as the chair scraped against the floor. His frustration was evident.

Whenever it came to Nina, Leo completely lost his composure.

Lowering her gaze, Tara continued drinking her soup, calm and unhurried.

Before long, Leo came back downstairs. He had just showered. His hair was still damp, and he was wearing fresh clothes.

He paused at the doorway of the dining room and turned to look at her.

“I’ll still transfer the 20 million to you. I’m sorry for the inconvenience I’ve caused.” His tone was polite and gentlemanly.

But Tara, ever perceptive, caught the chill and detachment in his voice.

She didn’t care.

Orders from the secondhand marketplace were piling up again. She busied herself packing the items and shipping them off.

For seven days straight, Leo didn’t return home or send any messages.

Then, in the early hours of the eighth day, her phone suddenly rang, waking her.

Groggily, she reached for it. Seeing Leo’s name on the screen, she frowned slightly before answering.

His voice was slurred and indistinct. Clearly, he had been drinking heavily.

“Tara… come… pick me up… take me… home.”

She could hear loud music blaring in the background.

“Where are you?” she asked.

“Maj… Majestic Nightclub, private room 88,” he mumbled.

Tara replied calmly, “Alright.”

She quickly got out of bed, threw on a pair of jeans and a plain white T-shirt. After a moment of thought, she picked out a pair of black crystal earrings and put them on before heading out.

She headed downstairs to the garage, where the red luxury car was parked right at the front.

The car hadn’t been officially registered in her name yet, so she hadn’t sold it. Tara opened the driver’s side door and climbed in.

But she immediately noticed something. On the passenger seat lay a black stocking, and on the floor mat was a single silver high heel.

She recognized the shoe. It was the match to the one Nina had left behind in the flowerbed on her birthday.

A wave of disgust washed over her.

Getting out of the car, she searched through Leo’s collection of luxury cars in the garage until she found her car.

At around 2 a.m., she arrived at the underground parking lot of Majestic Nightclub. Just as she parked and stepped out, a middle-aged man emerged from behind a dark pillar, blocking her path.

“Hey, miss! Can I borrow some tissues? I’m in an emergency and didn’t bring any.”

Tara tensed up, wary of the stranger’s approach. She replied curtly, “I don’t have any.”

The man pressed on. “I lost my phone. Can you lend me a few bucks? I need to buy tissues… or get a ride.”

Her voice grew colder. “No.”

With that, she turned and walked away.

As soon as the elevator doors opened, she was hit with deafening music and flashing lights that made her head spin.

The scene inside was chaotic. Men and women swayed together, drinking, singing, and exchanging suggestive glances.

Tara didn’t care for this kind of loud, messy atmosphere.

After asking for directions at the front desk, she passed through a soundproof door and entered a quieter hallway.

The corridor was lined with upscale private rooms, their thick doors sealing off the noise, leaving the space eerily silent.

She found room 88 and pressed the doorbell.

The thick soundproof door opened, and an explosion of pounding dance music blasted out.

The light outside was bright, but the room inside was dim, making it hard to see clearly.

Tara stepped inside cautiously.

The door shut abruptly behind her, startling her. She spun around and met Wesley’s leering eyes, filled with sleaze and malice.

At the same time, Wesley raised his hand and sprayed something at her face twice.