In Hollow Creek, there was an old custom: if you turned thirty and still were not married, the community chair would arrange for you to come home and meet potential matches.

When I told Marcus about it, he laughed coldly.

“What kind of backwoods tradition is that supposed to be?

“Constance, I said I would marry you, and I will. But pressuring me is something else.”

Then he took out the ring and casually handed it to Hannah.

She accepted it with a blush.

“I was going to propose,” he said. “But since you want to act like this, maybe we should cool off for a while.”

The ring I had waited years for was handed to someone else like it meant nothing.

For a moment, I just stood there, stunned.

Marcus walked out of my office with an easy confidence, the corner of his mouth lifted in a victorious smile.

Hannah held the ring out to me.

I did not take it.

“Keep it,” I said. “Wasn’t it meant for you anyway?

“You wear it. It suits you.”

Her face went pale.

I showed her to the door.

Before closing it, I said, “Tell Mr. Vale that he and I are done.”

By the time Marcus Vale came home from work that night, I had already packed two large suitcases.

He stopped short when he saw them.

"Why did you come home without waiting for me?"

There it was again.

He had a way of turning the page all by himself, as if nothing had happened, and then expecting me to step down from whatever anger I had and keep playing the role of the loving girlfriend.

But I did not want to play along anymore.

"Didn't your little assistant pass along my message?"

His brow tightened at once, as if I had touched a nerve.

"I'm trying to talk to you properly. Do you have to be sarcastic?"

"Hannah is from your hometown. You're the one who asked me to bring her into the company. Why are you acting like this now?"

He was not wrong.

Hannah Price was from the same mountain community as me. The community chair back home had always told those of us who left for the city to look out for one another.

So when she graduated and could not find work, I brought her into our company.

At first, she was sweet and obedient, and I was happy to mentor her.

Then I began noticing the way she looked at Marcus.

I knew that look well.

Back in school, Marcus had been the kind of man girls stared at from across hallways. I had seen countless women look at him that way.

But Marcus had never looked back.

So I treated Hannah's crush as a young woman's passing fantasy and did not make a fuss.

Then her mistakes at work became more frequent.

Once, after I corrected her in passing, she did not argue. She simply stood there crying while I spoke.

Marcus could not take it.

For the first time, he yelled at me in front of the whole company.

"She's just a young girl. Say a few words and let it go.

"Why are you acting like some big executive in front of a girl from your hometown?"

I laughed in anger and refused to back down.

"Do you know how many messes the rest of the company has cleaned up because of her?"

He waved his hand like it did not matter.

"Fine. Then Hannah can be my private assistant."

He looked around at everyone watching.

"From now on, if anyone has a problem with her, come directly to me. Don't gossip behind her back.

"If you can work, work. If you can't, get out."

He walked ahead as if he had won a battle.

Hannah followed behind him, and even her back seemed to glow with worship.

Now, Marcus stood over me again.

Somewhere along the way, he had stopped judging things by right and wrong. With me, everything had become a contest.

He was no longer the man who once said to me in a tiny rented apartment, "You're the only person I'll ever be willing to lose to."

I glanced at my phone. My flight confirmation was still open on the screen.

I was going home soon.

I no longer had the energy to argue.

"You're right. I was being dramatic."

"It won't happen again."

For a moment, his expression turned blank.

I supposed he had prepared himself for me to demand when he planned to marry me, to ask why he and Hannah were so unclear with each other.

He had not expected me to admit defeat so calmly.

After a few seconds, he threw out, "Suit yourself," and left.

He did not come home that night.

The next morning, I went to work as usual.

I could let Marcus go, but Joya Era was the company I had poured all my effort into.

Even if I left, I still had to arrange what came next.

Besides, I would still receive stable dividends every year.

I was considering who I could promote to the front line so I could guide things remotely when Riley Brooks, the sales manager, appeared at the elevator with a terrible expression.

She was one of the company's earliest employees and had followed me through countless pitches and projects.

I had never seen her look so defeated.

"Ms. Rivers, last night we sent Mr. Vale the quote for review. Ms. Price said he was asleep and that she would handle it."

"But she accidentally sent the client our bottom-line cost sheet along with the quote."

"Now the client is demanding a twenty percent discount, and our gross margin is only thirty percent."

"This is a project we've followed for more than six months. If we keep going, we lose money. If we walk away, we may lose the client completely."

I nodded as I pushed open Marcus's office door.

Hannah was lying sideways on the office sofa bed, while Marcus sat beside her, feeding her water by the spoonful.

That sofa bed had been bought years ago, when we first started the company, because Marcus wanted to force me to rest.

He had said, "My office is your private lounge."

Even after the company grew, moved, and built out its own headquarters, I brought that sofa bed along.

Now another woman lay on it, and he guarded her with the tenderness that used to belong to me.

My chest tightened for a second.

Strangely, it no longer hurt.

When Hannah saw me, she immediately sat up.

"Constance, don't misunderstand. I fainted because I felt so guilty, so Marcus was only giving me sugar water."

I still remembered the first time she met Marcus. Back then, she treated him as my future husband.

At some point, that had changed.

I ignored her and slapped the report onto Marcus's desk.

"At the client's current price, we lose one point two million if we take this project."

I glanced at them both.

"So which one of you is covering the loss?"

Hannah's eyes reddened instantly.

"It's all my fault. I should have woken Marcus. I just felt sorry for him because he was so tired."

"I'll go talk to Mr. Carter. I'll beg him."

Marcus frowned down at the documents and did not stop her.

Riley and I stood there without moving.

Hannah was stuck in her own performance with no one willing to cue the next scene.

I folded my arms and looked at her.

"Hannah, business does not work because you cry or beg."

She lifted the cashmere blanket and took two steps before collapsing to the floor.

The performance was so clumsy that I felt dumber for witnessing it.

But Marcus, the celebrated business genius, believed it.

He helped Hannah up and carefully settled her back on the sofa.

"Constance, you're always so aggressive."

"Does the whole world have to revolve around you?"

I tapped the desk.

"Don't waste my time with things unrelated to the project. One point two million. What are you going to do?"

His eyes reddened.

"If taking it means losing money, then we don't take it."

I laughed coldly.

"Do you remember how much we drank and how many nights we stayed up to win this client?

"And this is not our only project with them. If we give them up, how many more one point two million losses will follow?

"Marcus Vale, did a dog eat your brain?"

He shot me an impatient look and muttered, "So petty."

Then he pulled out a bank card and threw it at my face.

"It's only one point two million. I'll pay for her. Happy?"

My cheek burned.

But I was eerily calm.

The poor boy who once thought twelve-dollar burger was expensive could now toss out one point two million without blinking.

He had forgotten how many people's livelihoods depended on the decisions in his hand.

Or maybe he knew and simply did not care.

If one point two million did not matter, what about one hundred times that?

I wanted to see whether he would still be so careless then.

I asked my best friend, Olivia Hart, to meet me for afternoon tea.

She was still cursing Marcus when I received a message from Riley.

"Ms. Rivers, please come back to the office. Now."

When I reached my office, Hannah was directing people to move out my desk.

Contracts, files, and project materials were scattered across the floor.

All of it was built piece by piece with my own hands.

Who gave her the right?

"Put everything down."

I crossed the room in three strides and slapped Hannah across the face.

"Who allowed you to touch my things?"

Hannah held her cheek, but her eyes were stubborn.

"Marcus said you lost a major deal, so you no longer deserve this office. He said you should work in a cubicle in the common area."

Maybe someone had already told him, because Marcus arrived moments later.

His eyes flickered when he saw the mess.

"Hannah, I told you to notify her. Who told you to move her things?"

Hannah lowered her hand, revealing the red mark on her face, and looked at him pitifully.

His heart softened at once.

"Constance, I made the decision. If you want to vent, vent at me.

"But rules are rules. Hannah sent the cost sheet, yes, but your team submitted the file. You bear direct responsibility."

He sighed and placed both hands on my shoulders.

"I saw that you bought a plane ticket.

"But I don't have time to go home with you.

"Take this chance to go back for a few days, all right?"

I shook off his hands.

"Who said I wanted you to go with me? I'm going home because..."

He sneered. "Because you're going home to be matched with someone and get married?

"Stop threatening me with that. Hannah already told me your village doesn't have any rule that women must go home and marry at thirty."

Hannah said, "Constance, don't blame me for telling Marcus. I just couldn't bear to see him deceived."

I looked her over calmly.

Designer suit. Chanel earrings. Louis Vuitton bag.

None of it matched her salary.

And it was worlds away from the girl I first knew.

Back then, she had been grateful because I paid part of her tuition.

Her first decent college outfit was bought by me.

I took her to open her first bank account.

I took her to her first buffet.

She once said she would repay me when she succeeded.

Now she leaned against my boyfriend, wearing things my boyfriend bought, while saying she pitied him for being deceived by me.

I no longer cared to preserve anyone's dignity.

From my bag, I pulled out a stack of printed pages.

In front of the entire office, I began reading aloud.

"Three months ago, my boyfriend took you to a hotel. Room fees and protection totaled five thousand eight hundred dollars."

"Two months ago, he bought you a limited-edition bag worth ten thousand two hundred dollars."

"One week ago, he bought you a ring worth one hundred twenty-six thousand dollars."

I flipped the pages.

"Every item has photos and receipts. So tell me, who exactly is deceiving whom?"

Whispers spread through the office.

Some people looked at Hannah with open contempt.

Marcus's face shifted between white and red.

I told the staff to put everything back.

Even when Marcus tried to stop them, no one listened.

Riley even said with a pointed smile, "Ms. Rivers, I'll disinfect the room for you. It reeks of mistress in here."

The disinfectant spray landed on Marcus and Hannah.

In the end, Marcus could only snap, "Fine. Fine, all of you," before leaving with Hannah.

Once the office was restored and I had barely sat down, the community chair back home called me.

"Willow, are you sure you're coming back?"

"If you are, I'll ask Owen Cole to pick you up at the station."

A smile I had not felt in a long time came over me.

"I already bought my flight. But don't tell grandma yet. I want to surprise her."

The community chair's voice brightened as he agreed again and again before hanging up.

There was no real rule in our village that unmarried thirty-year-olds had to go home and marry.

But my grandmother was eighty.

She could not wait forever.

After Marcus and I finally tore away the mask, he and Hannah became even more shameless at work.

It was as if they no longer had to hide from me.