Travis used to rest his head on Leslie's shoulder and say sweetly, "Leslie, you're the only sister I'll ever have in this life…"

As Leslie was lost in the memory, a basketball came flying toward the three of them at full speed.

Travis reacted quickly, shielding Kiana by cupping the back of her head and pulling her into his chest.

Standing behind them, Leslie had no time to dodge and was hit squarely on the forehead by the basketball.

It made a thud, and the sound alone was enough to make anyone wince.

A boy ran over to retrieve the ball, apologizing profusely and asking if she was okay.

Leslie was already teary-eyed from the pain. But after a while, she waved her hand weakly and said, "It's fine. I'm okay now."

Her gaze shifted to Travis, who was gripping Kiana's hand tightly in concern.

"Kiana, are you sure you're okay? Thank goodness it didn't hit you! I wouldn't know how to explain that to my brother."

Not even a glance—he couldn't spare a single look at Leslie, who had taken the hit directly.

To be fair, Leslie didn't hate Travis. He wasn't the one who had cheated. In fact, she used to think, 'Even if things don't work out between me and Denver, at least Travis and I will always be like siblings!'

But right now, watching him fuss over Kiana while completely ignoring her, Leslie felt like a joke.

Bending down, she picked up her knocked-over water bottle without saying a word and quietly left the basketball court.

The autumn breeze brushed against her face, carrying an unexpected chill.

This villa… there was nothing left in it worth staying for.

Leslie's custom-made wedding gown had arrived at the villa.

The design was exquisite, with intricate embroidery and flawless craftsmanship. Ninety-nine diamonds adorned the bodice, making it shimmer brilliantly.

But holding it in her hands, Leslie felt nothing—no excitement, no joy. She tossed it onto the couch as if it were just any other item.

Coming down the stairs, Kiana spotted the dress on the couch.

"Leslie, this dress is stunning! You're going to look like an actual goddess in it!"

Leslie forced a polite smile. "Thanks."

Kiana's fingers gently traced the sparkling diamonds, her admiration plain as day.

"As an orphan, I never dared to dream about wearing something this beautiful," she murmured. Then, she asked, "Leslie, could I try it on? Just for a little while?"

Leslie looked at Kiana, her heart softening. She nodded.

Anyway, she didn't care about the wedding, so she let someone else wear the dress.

Overjoyed, Kiana grabbed the dress and headed into the bedroom.

About 10 minutes later, she emerged, looking distressed.

"What's wrong?" Leslie asked.

Kiana hesitantly opened her hand, revealing a diamond lying in her palm. The front of the dress now had a large, gaping hole where the diamond had fallen out.

Leslie was stunned. "This is a custom dress worth over two hundred thousand. How could it fall apart so easily?"

Could this really not be on purpose?

Before Leslie could question Kiana, the sound of the front door unlocking interrupted them—Denver had just come home from work.

Kiana seemed to be waiting for this exact moment.

With a dramatic thud, she knelt in front of Leslie, pleading with her repeatedly.

"I'm so sorry, Leslie! I didn't mean to! Please, you can hit me or yell at me, but don't kick me out. I can't lose Denver or Travis. Please, I'm begging you!"

Leslie stared at her in shock, about to tell Kiana to get up, when Denver strode over with a dark expression.

Grabbing Kiana by the arm, he pulled her up and glared at Leslie with hostility.

"What's going on here?"

Before Leslie could explain, Kiana cut in first. "Don't blame Leslie! It's all my fault!"

"I was helping your fiancé try on her wedding gown, and I accidentally knocked off the biggest diamond…"

Tears streamed down her face as she spoke.

"I'm really sorry, Leslie. I'll do anything—be your servant if you want—just please don't kick me out…"

Leslie let out a cold laugh. The same trick, used twice, wasn't going to work again.

"Kiana, when did I ever say I was kicking you out?"

Denver took a deliberate step forward, shielding Kiana completely behind him.

"My love, you're being unreasonable." His tone was calm but firm. "You never used to be like this."

Leslie looked up, stunned. She couldn't believe it—the man who had always shielded her and held her close now stood against her for someone else.

Hurt, disappointment, and anger all welled up inside her, choking her words before they could form.

Meanwhile, Kiana kept up her sob-filled performance. Compared to her, Leslie felt like an emotionless puppet.

After a long silence, Leslie finally spoke. "The wedding gown is yours. You can stay in this villa as long as you want."

After all, in just fifteen days, she would disappear from this place forever.

Without another word, she turned and walked upstairs while Denver escorted the tearful Kiana back to the guest room.

Late into the night, Leslie could still hear the faint sounds of Kiana's crying and Denver's gentle words of comfort.

Unable to resist, Leslie peeked through the door's narrow opening. Inside, Kiana clung to Denver's waist, her voice soft and sweet. "Denver, I really envy Leslie… Actually, I…"

"I know." Denver interrupted her, his voice tender.

"Kiana, as long as I live, I'll never let you feel hurt again. Anything you want, I'll make it happen. The only thing I can't do is marry you. Everything else, you can have. Trust me, okay?"

It felt like an invisible hand gripped Leslie's heart and twisted. The pain, sharp and deep, reminded her that she wasn't as numb as she wanted to believe.

She always acted calm and resolute. But Denver—he was the one person who could shatter her mask with precision.

Under the shower, the water washed away her tears, along with memories she wished would fade.

The man who once saw no one but her was gone.

What remained was this "brother," desperate to put the entire world at Kiana's feet.

The next morning, as soon as Denver left for work, Leslie methodically began packing.

Four years of living together had filled every corner of the villa with her belongings. Each item carried a memory of Denver.

She stuffed everything into large cardboard boxes and tossed them into the neighborhood dumpsters.

When Denver returned in the evening, he was startled to see their bedroom half-empty.

"Why does it feel like half the stuff is gone?"

Leslie answered casually, "Making room for the new occupant."

Denver thought for a moment, then smiled.

"Fair enough. Once we have kids, we'll definitely need more space."

Seeing the faint excitement on his face, Leslie found it laughable—tragically so.

'Denver, Denver… I don't even want you anymore. What makes you think I'd have your child?'

He slipped his arms around her waist from behind, his lips brushing her neck.

Leslie stiffened, ready to pull away, but right on cue, Kiana appeared in the doorway.

"Denver, Leslie, dinner's ready."

Denver immediately let go, grinning as he followed Kiana downstairs.

When Leslie joined them at the table, she noticed a bowl of golden Lobster Newberg placed in front of her seat.

"Leslie, I made this Lobster Newberg today," Kiana said. "I felt bad about ruining your wedding gown yesterday, so think of this as my way of apologizing. Try it and tell me if it's good!"

Denver and Travis both turned to look at Leslie.

Leslie smiled faintly. "You don't know I'm allergic to seafood?"

Kiana blinked innocently. "I… I didn't know."

Leslie believed that Denver and Travis didn't know—after all, she had never eaten seafood in front of them. But Kiana? There was no way.

When Kiana first came into Denver's life, Leslie had treated her like a younger sister. She once even brought her out to a restaurant for New England cuisine. Back then, Leslie didn't know she ate lobster until she broke out in rashes immediately.

Denver frowned. "My love, are you really allergic to seafood?"

Travis scoffed. "Isn't that just an excuse? If you don't want to accept Kiana's apology, just say so."

Denver sighed. "Are you still upset about Kiana ruining your dress? She's already apologizing sincerely. Let it go, okay?" Then, he added, "I'll buy you an even prettier dress. Stop making this complicated, alright?"

As he spoke, he cut a small bite of Lobster Newberg with a fork and held it up to Leslie's mouth.

But she turned her head away, refusing to eat it.

"Open your mouth," Denver said coldly, his tone sharp.

When Leslie pressed her lips together tightly, resisting, Denver grabbed her chin. He forced her lips open and shoved the dish into her mouth.

Leslie struggled, trying to break free.

Suddenly, Denver threw the fine bone china fork to the floor, smashing it into pieces. The sharp sound echoed in the room, much like Leslie's shattering heart.

He stood abruptly, glaring at her. "Leslie, have you had enough?"

Leslie held his gaze for just a moment before the cold, unfamiliar look in his eyes made her feel as if she'd been burned.

Tears streaming down her face, she got up and ran upstairs to the bedroom. Once there, she clung to the toilet and vomited the Lobster Newberg.

Downstairs, Kiana lowered her head, her tears falling steadily. "Denver… it's all my fault," she muttered. "I shouldn't have come here. I'll leave now…"

She stood up as if to go, but Denver grabbed her wrist and pulled her back into her seat. "Sit down! This isn't your fault."

Upstairs, Leslie kept vomiting until her head spun. Weak and dizzy, she stumbled to the drawer, searching for her allergy medicine.

She turned the drawer inside out but couldn't find it. Helpless, she watched as red welts spread across her arms, swelling painfully.

Sliding down against the wall, Leslie sat on the floor, silent tears rolling down her cheeks. Then, she let out a bitter laugh.

So this was Kiana's plan—not just to take her husband but to take her life too.

Meanwhile, Denver finished both his plate and Leslie's portion of the Lobster Newberg.

Wiping his mouth, he smiled at Kiana. "It's delicious!"

Then, he went upstairs.

When he pushed the door open, he saw his fiancée lying unconscious on the floor. The sight made his heart stop for a moment.

"Leslie? Leslie! Wake up! Don't scare me!"

Panic-stricken, Denver picked Leslie up and rushed downstairs.

Travis, startled, stood up quickly. "What happened? Did she faint from being upset?"

Meanwhile, Kiana started crying again.

"Oh gosh, this is all my fault! I must be the one causing trouble! Everyone around me ends up miserable…" She sniffed, then declared, "I'll leave. I'll leave right now!"

Just like that, she grabbed her suitcase and made it as if to leave again.

Distracted and overwhelmed, Denver handed Leslie to Travis. "Travis, take Leslie to the hospital! I'll stay here and look after Kiana. Hurry!"

Still flustered, Travis quickly carried Leslie out and drove her to the hospital, his movements clumsy with panic.