When Tenderness Disperses

Everyone in Harbor City knows that the city's prince, Brandon Schmidt, is a devoted husband. Countless homewrecker wannabes are dealt with before they can even reach me.

But one day, I see Brandon's text conversation with one of his mistresses. "You're going to open up for me tonight."

"It's so embarrassing to be doing this on your wife's bed."

Meanwhile, my arm is shattered from dealing with one of his competitors.

The conversation makes my stomach turn. So be it, then. No one's getting off easy now.

I couldn't remember exactly when my marriage to Brandon Schmidt started falling apart. After all, everyone in Harbor City knew that Brandon adored me to death, that he couldn't live without me. But that day, his little bird decided to come knocking at my door.

The girl was pitiful to look at, like an innocent princess from a fairy tale.

I had just finished dealing with two moles who tried to steal our bid documents. I personally broke one's leg with an axe and cleanly chopped off four fingers from the other.

The little princess sat across from me. Just as I took the towel my bodyguard handed me and was calmly wiping the blood from my hands, she got right to the point, saying, "Bran doesn't love you anymore. If you leave on your own, it's better for everyone."

I raised an eyebrow at her. "Brandon has countless women flocking around him. You're nothing special."

The girl was in her late teens. She was wearing a white blouse, a light-colored pleated skirt, and canvas shoes, with her waist-length black hair casually tied up. Her face still had the youthful glow, fresh and bright as a newly bloomed magnolia.

"We've been together for a year. We sleep together almost every day, and ten times, it was in your marriage bed. He says after all these years, you only know one position, and he's bored. You know he doesn't love you anymore. Otherwise, I wouldn't be here, right?"

My expression remained unchanged as I casually lit a cigarette. "Is that all? Continue."

She pushed a test report toward me. It stated that she was already 13 weeks pregnant with a detectable heartbeat.

"So, an embryo gives you confidence?" I chuckled softly.

She argued, "Bran loves children. He'll definitely want me to keep this baby. Cami, how long can love maintained by guilt really last?"

Looking at her features that resembled mine so closely, I sighed lightly. "Luna Adkins, a freshman at Harbor College's Literature Department and from a modest background. As the only child of an ordinary family, your parents gave you the best life they could afford in a place with high living costs like Harbor City.

"Is being a mistress something you're proud of? Didn't your parents teach you dignity and shame? Throwing yourself at rich men and using love as an excuse for gold-digging—you dare talk to me about love?"

I asked, "If I sent your words today and this test report to your school and posted it online, do you think you'd have a good outcome?"

Luna stood up abruptly, pointing at me. "Hey! You wouldn't dare!"

"Thinking you can secure your position with a child—how should I put it? Naively stupid."

If any new woman were in Brandon's life, people would line up to bring that information to me. However, Luna was the only one who dared confront me directly. She did not know that it was never about me being unable to leave Brandon, but that Brandon's business depended entirely on me.

I slowly blew out a smoke ring and looked Luna straight in the eyes. "Get out. I'm giving you one chance because we're both women. Show up in front of me again, and even Brandon won't be able to protect you."

Watching her retreating figure, I became lost in thought. From first glance, I knew Brandon might be serious this time. After all, she was different from the other women—she resembled me.

Not the current me, though. But Carmelia Sanders at 19 years old.