Ivory Stone has tried and failed to seduce her stoic steward 999 times.

She thinks that maybe Wilson Quill doesn't have a heart. Maybe he won't ever fall in love with anyone.

But one day, she catches him pleasuring himself with a bracelet belonging to the fake heiress who stole her life.

It was dark in the room, and a man's low, siren voice drifted out from inside. "Belinda, be good…"

He wore a neatly pressed suit that made him look debonair. However, his zipper was pulled down to reveal an imposing, impatient beast. A bracelet that Belinda Stone had recently discarded dangled from it.

Ivory Stone silently clenched her fists. He'd yet to finish, but she pushed the door open with malice, wanting to see him panic.

However, he remained calm. His eyes were like an unfathomable abyss—she didn't see the slightest flicker of emotion in them.

"You need to knock before entering someone's room," Wilson Quill said coldly. He was just a steward, yet his tone carried the dominance that belonged only to someone accustomed to being in a position of power.

Ivory raised an eyebrow and mocked, "You should've locked your door if you wanted to do something so shameful. Besides, this is my home. Why should I knock?"

Wilson didn't answer. He gracefully tucked himself back into his pants, his eyes still devoid of emotion. "Did you need something from me, Ms. Ivory?"

Ivory smiled bitterly. She knew nothing would come out of this, but she still said stubbornly, "Take me away from here, Wilson. Let's leave together and go far, far away. Let's go somewhere where no one will find us."

The lights were off in the room, so Wilson didn't see the broken look of despair in her eyes. Or perhaps he did see it but just didn't care.

"Please don't joke about these things, Ms. Ivory," he said, his tone still icy. "I'm your steward. My job is just to manage your daily life and keep you safe."

As expected, he'd turned her down. This was within Ivory's expectations, but she still felt her heart bleed. She smiled brokenly. "I'm sure you would agree in a heartbeat if Belinda were the one asking."

Why did everyone like Belinda so much? Ivory was the Stone family's true heiress—Belinda was just an impostor who'd stolen her life.

So why did everyone in the Stone family adore Belinda? Ivory was the one who shared their blood!

Now, even the only man Ivory had ever liked preferred Belinda over her…

Wilson's Adam's apple bobbed. He seemed to want to say something, but Ivory stopped him. "Don't respond to that. I don't want to hear it."

With that, she turned and left. She went to her father, John Stone, and said with a smile, "I've thought it through. I'm willing to take that impostor's place and marry that sadist from the Fuller family."

"Who are you calling an impostor? Belinda is your sister!" John's expression turned ugly. "And Mr. Fuller is one of Jeriton's elite! You're marrying above your station by having him as your husband. Stop acting like you're oh-so-unwilling."

Ivory curled her lips in mockery at his words. She was marrying above her station? Well, he wasn't wrong. With the Stone family's net worth, they weren't even worthy of worshipping at the Fuller family's feet.

But everyone in the upper crust knew what Simon Fuller was like. He was handsome, yet he had a fetish for violence. One of his hobbies was tormenting young, beautiful women.

Before Ivory, he'd already had six fiancees, and all of them had died.

"Since this is such a wonderful marriage, I won't steal it from the rightful bride." She laughed. "Belinda can marry Simon as planned."

John's expression darkened further. "Our family has had this engagement with the Fuller family since before you were born! Don't think you're doing this for Belinda—you were always meant to marry Mr. Fuller!"

The Stone and Fuller families did have a promise to marry, but the Stone family's net worth made it clear that they weren't worthy of forming a marriage alliance with anyone from the main family. The engagement was intended for someone from a branch family.

However, with Simon's notorious reputation, no one in the upper crust dared have their daughters marry him, no matter how wealthy and powerful the Fullers were.

This made Simon's grandfather, Philip Fuller, descend into panic. Simon was the main family's sole heir—he had a massive fortune to inherit, and the line couldn't die out with him.

And so, Philip had reassigned the engagement from the branch family to Simon himself.

John and his wife, Nancy Brown, couldn't bear to have Belinda marry him. Instead, they'd set their sights on Ivory.

"If the engagement was always mine, why wasn't it pinned on me from the very beginning, even before Mr. Fuller Senior said anything?" Ivory asked sarcastically.

John paled before flushing with anger. He wanted to say something, but Ivory couldn't be bothered to listen. She said, "I can marry into the Fuller family on Belinda's behalf, but I have my conditions."

"What are they?" he snarled.

She smirked. "I want all your assets, whether they're liquid funds or real estate. I want everything to be transferred under my name. I also want all of the Stone family's businesses to be given to me. I want to be Stone Group's new chairwoman!"

John slammed his hand on the table, almost erupting with rage. He roared, "Have you lost your mind?"

"I'm your only daughter. Is there anything wrong with you giving me all your assets?" Ivory asked coldly.

John's expression was hideous. Still, he agreed to her conditions. He figured Ivory would be lucky if she could survive a month with Simon. He could just take everything back once she died.

"Fine. I'll do it!" he snarled. "But don't take that steward of yours to the Fuller residence with you. You don't want to upset Mr. Fuller."

He expected Ivory to cause a scene over that. After all, everyone in their family knew she was head over heels for Wilson, who was outstanding in every way and handsome to boot.

To his surprise, she didn't act up. She said calmly, "Do whatever you want with him. I don't want him anymore."

She hated Belinda. And so, if anyone liked Belinda, she would rip them from her heart, no matter how agonizing it was.

…

Ivory headed to a bar right after leaving John's study. To her annoyance, Belinda and her friends were also there.

"Fancy running into you here, Ivy." Belinda stood up when she saw Ivory, looking cautious and apprehensive. "Come and sit with us. I know Mom and Dad don't give you much allowance. It's my best friend's birthday today, and drinks are all on her. You can order anything you like—you won't need to pay."

She sounded kind and understanding, but it was clear she was actually mocking Ivory for being broke and stingy.

Ivory sneered. Then, she raised her voice and said, "I'm in a good mood today, so everyone's drinks are on me tonight—everyone but Belinda's table!"

Everyone cheered at her words.

"You're awesome, Ms. Ivory!"

"As expected of the true heiress. She's so bold!"

But just then, Wilson arrived. As he walked in, he heard Ivory's announcement and how she'd excluded Belinda's table. He frowned, his gaze filled with dislike as he glanced at Ivory.

He pulled out his phone and made a call. Soon, the bar's owner hurried forward and said, "Sorry, everyone, but Mr. Quill has booked out the venue tonight. All drinks are now free, courtesy of Ms. Belinda Stone!"

The crowd exploded again.

"Mr. Quill? The legendary heir, who's rumored to be uninterested in women?"

"That's the one. He and Mr. Fuller are equally notorious—one is Jeriton's richest man, and the other is the king of Weston."

"Isn't he supposed to be like a monk? Why's he getting involved in our worldly affairs now?"

"Looks like the fake heiress is about to soar into the heavens. If she manages to marry Mr. Quill, even the true heiress will have to keep her head down around her."

A look of smugness flashed across Belinda's face when she heard the crowd's comments. She stood up, her face flushed as she said, "Since Mr. Quill has booked out the venue, drink up, everyone!"

She deliberately paused before turning to look at Ivory. She smiled sweetly and said, "You, too, Ivy. I won't treat anyone differently."

Her words earned her another round of praise. Everyone complimented her for being kind while making snide remarks about Ivory, saying that she wasn't half as cultured as a fake heiress.

"You're right about me being petty," Ivory forced through gritted teeth. "But I won't take advantage of anyone. I'll only take what's mine. If something doesn't belong to me, I won't want it even if it's forced on me."

With that, she turned and left. She headed to another bar.

Unexpectedly, Belinda came after her. She blinked innocently and put on a pitiful act as Wilson watched. She said, "Don't stop me, Will. I want to apologize to Ivy. She must've misunderstood me again. I swear I didn't mean anything earlier—I just wanted to patch things up between us."

She blinked again, and tears rolled down her face.

Wilson's heart ached at the sight. He softened his tone and said, "You don't need to apologize, Ms. Belinda. You did nothing wrong. Someone else is at fault here."

Ivory felt like her heart had been stabbed by countless needles. She turned away, no longer wanting to watch them be lovey-dovey to her face.

She headed to the dance floor to let loose. At the same time, she took a glass of brandy from a server and downed it. She had no idea someone had secretly laced her drink.

Ivory wasn't the foolish type who put her guard down around everyone. She knew the bar was seedy and had many people with nasty intentions. The only reason she could drink away her sorrows without a worry was that Wilson was around. She felt safe whenever he was nearby.

However, Wilson was too busy coaxing Belinda to care about Ivory. He seemed to have forgotten that he was Ivory's steward and was supposed to pay attention to everything in her life.

The drug soon took effect. Ivory felt like she was burning up—the heat was only getting worse. No amount of ice cubes could soothe it.

A few scions surrounded her and took the opportunity to slip their hands underneath her dress.

"Your face is so red, gorgeous. Are you thirsty for a man?"

"Jesus, you're hot. Come on, let us satisfy you…"

Their actions were becoming less restrained. They even wanted to slip her underwear off.

Ivory couldn't take it anymore. She mustered the remnants of her strength and shouted, "Wilson!"

Only then did Wilson notice her situation. He didn't hurry to her, though. He said to Belinda gently, "Wait here for me, Ms. Belinda. I'll be right back."

Then, he cut through the crowd and stopped by Ivory's side.

"Are you trying to be a knight in shining armor so you can save a damsel in distress? Take it from me, and keep your nose out of—"

The scions thought they could scare Wilson off by strength in numbers, but he snapped one of their arms before they could finish.

"Get lost!" he growled. That was all he said, but it exuded dominance.

The scions fled, and Ivory reached her limit. She collapsed weakly in Wilson's arms, her voice shaky as she said, "I… I feel horrible, Wilson…"

He frowned. He wanted to push her away when he noticed her flushed face. Only then did he realize something was wrong with her. He swept her off her feet and cut through the crowd, heading to one of the private rooms upstairs.

The drug was potent. Ivory tried her best to resist its effects, but she still couldn't help snaking her arms around Wilson's neck.

She was itching everywhere. Every cell in her body screamed for attention. She wanted to take off her clothes; she wanted a man's touch…

"Help me…" When Wilson put her down, she broke down and stood on her tiptoes. Tears streamed down her face as she peppered kisses on his face. "I feel like I'm dying… Wilson, help me…"

The drug made Ivory lose all sense of rationality. She kissed him haphazardly while roaming her hands over his body. She wanted some relief from him; she wanted him to help her get rid of the itch deep within her.

Amid her delirium, a bucket of cold water was suddenly poured over her. Wilson stood before her, his eyes still cold and stoic. "Are you a bit more lucid now?"

The water soaked Ivory through. The iciness had indeed calmed her down, but her blazing heart was also extinguished.

"There's no antidote for the drug here. You can start with cooling yourself down physically," Wilson said coldly. He filled the bathtub with cold water before throwing Ivory in.

Her lips turned blue from the low temperature, but he merely watched her stoically. He didn't seem to pity her at all.

"Hang on, Ms. Ivory. I'll go get you an antidote." He turned and left without another look back.

Ivory waited for him through the night, but he never came back. The iciness of the water seeped into her bones, yet the aphrodisiac was still eating away at her from inside.

She felt like countless ants were gnawing at her body. The water's iciness couldn't get rid of the heat inside her—it could only temporarily keep her lucid.

She was burning inside, yet she was freezing on the outside. She was trapped between fire and ice.

Still, she clenched her jaw and stuck it out. After a night, the heat finally subsided.

Ivory was exhausted. Her legs felt like jelly as she got out of the bathtub.

She thought Wilson had been gone for the whole night because it was hard to find an antidote, but she heard Belinda's voice drift out from the room beside hers as soon as she stepped out.

"I'm sorry, Will. It's all my fault for being dumb enough to twist my ankle. You spent all night massaging it for me—you didn't have time to care for Ivy."

"It's fine," Wilson said coolly while carefully massaging her ankle. "Ivory deserves to be taught a lesson."