Nyla felt a surge of nausea wash over her. She quickly removed the necklace from her neck. Without hesitation, she tossed it into the bedroom trash can. The diamonds clinked against the metal bin.

She rushed into the guest bathroom and turned on the shower. The scalding water burned her skin, but she didn't care.

She grabbed the shower gel and frantically scrubbed her neck and body. She needed to remove every trace of Clark. Every memory of his touch.

Her skin turned red from the harsh scrubbing, but she still felt dirty. The thought of that necklace clinging to another woman's neck made her sick.

She imagined it swaying as that woman moved beneath Clark. The mental image made her stomach lurch.

The bathroom door suddenly opened. Clark stood in the doorway, his eyes fixed on Nyla through the glass shower door. His gaze traveled over her wet hair, down her shoulders, following the water droplets that traced her curves.

Clark's breathing became heavy. His eyes burned with lust. "Nyla, you're so beautiful," he said, his voice thick with desire.

Nyla heard his voice and immediately wrapped herself in a towel. She stepped out of the shower, but the thought that he might have looked at that other woman the same way made her nauseous.

"Don't come near me." Nyla took several steps back, but Clark was already approaching.

"Baby, what's wrong?" Clark reached out to touch her cheek, but Nyla quickly dodged his hand.

Clark didn't give up. Instead, he pulled her into his arms. His hands began wandering over her body, caressing her back through the towel. Then they moved lower.

"Nyla, I want you," he whispered in her ear. His breath was hot against her skin.

Nyla's body went rigid. She tried to pull away, but Clark was much stronger. His hand moved to her breast, his thumb brushing over the sensitive skin. His other hand slid down toward her inner thigh.

"Let's have a baby, okay?" Clark's voice was filled with longing. "We could have a beautiful child. A little girl with your eyes."

Nyla felt ice water flood her veins. She thought of the photo that woman had sent. The same hands that were touching her now had been all over another woman's body just hours ago.

Anger and disgust exploded inside her chest.

"Get away from me!" Nyla pushed Clark with all her strength. "Clark, I'm tired! I don't want to do this right now!"

Clark stumbled backward, startled by her sudden fury. He stared at Nyla's face, confusion clouding his features.

"Honey, I'm sorry." His voice immediately filled with guilt. "I shouldn't have pushed you. I just want you so badly. I love you so much."

He paused, searching her face. "If you don't want a child right now, we can wait."

Watching Clark's apologetic expression, Nyla felt a mixture of emotions churning in her stomach. This man had been gentle and caring toward her for three years. She couldn't reconcile this version of him with the man who had been with another woman last night.

But the facts were undeniable. Those photos. Those messages. The necklace in the trash can.

That night, Nyla lay awake staring at the ceiling. Clark's breathing was even beside her. The painful images replayed in her mind over and over. She didn't sleep until dawn.

The next morning, Nyla woke with dark circles under her eyes. Her reflection in the mirror looked hollow and tired.

"Honey, are you feeling okay?" Clark asked with concern. "You look exhausted. Maybe you should rest today."

Nyla shook her head. "I'm fine. We need to get ready for your grandfather's birthday party."

As they drove through the gates of the Summer family estate, a black Rolls-Royce suddenly roared past them. It stopped directly in front of the main entrance. The license plate read "DAMON-1."

Clark's hands tightened on the steering wheel. His face darkened instantly.

"Uncle Damon," he muttered under his breath.

Damon Summer was Clark's uncle, Richard's youngest son. Despite being only six years older than Clark, Damon had always intimidated his nephew.

He had refused to join the family business, starting his own company instead. That company was now worth five times more than Summer Group.

Damon was known for being brilliant, ruthless, and vindictive. Last year, he had overheard Clark making disparaging comments about him at a business dinner.

As punishment, Damon had refused a potential partnership that would have brought Summer Group hundreds of millions in revenue.

Clark parked behind the Rolls-Royce. As Nyla stepped out of the car, her high heel caught in the gravel driveway. She wobbled, about to fall backward.

Suddenly, a pair of strong hands caught her waist, steadying her against a solid chest.

Nyla looked up into a pair of deep, dark eyes. The man was tall and imposing, probably around twenty-nine.

His features were sharp and perfectly sculpted. High cheekbones, a straight nose, a strong jawline. He wore a tailored dark gray suit that emphasized his broad shoulders and lean build.

This was Damon Summer.

"Careful," Damon said. His voice was deep and magnetic, with a hint of genuine concern.

For a moment, Nyla found herself caught in his gaze.

Clark appeared beside them, his face flushed with jealousy. He roughly grabbed Nyla's hand and pulled her away from Damon.

"Thank you, Uncle," Clark said tersely. His voice was tight with barely controlled anger.

He dragged Nyla toward the manor entrance. After they'd walked a few steps, he leaned close to her ear.

"Nyla, you know I don't like you getting too close to other men," he whispered harshly. "Not even my uncle."

Nyla almost laughed at the irony. Here was Clark, who had been with another woman just last night, acting possessive about her talking to his uncle.

"So you'd rather have your wife fall flat on her face in front of the Summer family estate?" she replied coldly.

Clark immediately backed down. "Honey, that's not what I meant. I just don't want people to get the wrong idea."

Nyla ignored him and continued walking toward the entrance.

The Summer family manor was impressive, with its grand foyer and crystal chandeliers. But Nyla felt no joy at being here.

In the living room, Clark's grandmother Marie immediately called out with a beaming smile. "Nyla, Clark, you're here! Come sit down!"

Nyla took a deep breath and forced a polite smile. Whatever her feelings about Clark, she still respected his grandparents. Richard had always treated her kindly.

"Hello, Grandpa. Hello, Grandma," she greeted them warmly.

Marie's eyes lit up as she watched Clark and Nyla approach. She had been trying to convince Damon to settle down for years.

"Come, sit here next to me," Marie patted the sofa beside her.

As they settled in, Damon entered the living room. Marie's expression immediately shifted to disapproval.

"Look at Clark," she said pointedly to Damon. "He's got his company running smoothly, and his wife is absolutely beautiful. They might be giving us a great-grandchild soon."

Her voice grew stern. "And you? You're almost thirty and still single. If you don't bring a girlfriend to the next family gathering, don't bother coming at all!"

Damon's gaze flicked to Clark, then settled on Nyla. His lips curved into a half-smile.

"Yes," he said quietly. "Really beautiful."

Marie's headache intensified at Damon's nonchalant attitude.

She shook her head and turned her attention to Clark and Nyla. "You've been married for three years now. When are you planning on having kids? I'm looking forward to having great-grandchildren."

The moment this topic came up, the atmosphere in the living room suddenly became tense. Nyla's fingers gripped her teacup so tightly her knuckles turned white.

This was her most sensitive topic, the one that pierced her heart every time it was mentioned.

Clark's aunt Anne immediately seized the opportunity.

She leaned forward with a sneer. "Nyla, you and Clark have been married for three years. What will it look like if you don't have a child? What will others think of our Summer family?"

She paused, malice glinting in her eyes. "And if Clark hadn't insisted on marrying you, do you think you could have married into our Summer family with your background? Don't be so ungrateful. You don't want to have children for Clark, but there are plenty of women out there who would."

Anne spoke with mock concern, but her gaze was filled with contempt. She had always looked down on this niece-in-law.

Talking about children made Nyla's chest tighten with pain. Of course she wanted a child. She had given up her promising career in scientific research to be a good wife. But she couldn't conceive.

She had secretly visited doctors who said nothing was wrong with her body. Perhaps it was stress. But the Summer family often mocked her, calling her barren and useless.

Just as Nyla was drowning in humiliation, Clark suddenly took her hand. He smiled at his grandmother. "Grandma, we're trying! There's no rushing these things. We have to let nature take its course."

Then he turned to Anne, his voice stern. "Anne, watch your words. Nyla is my wife, and I won't tolerate anyone speaking to her like that."

Anne's face flushed red at being publicly rebuked. "I'm doing this for your own good. You've been married for so long without any progress..."

"That's enough," Clark interrupted sharply. "You don't need to worry about Nyla and me. And I want to make it clear that I'm honored to have Nyla as my wife. She didn't marry up."

Nyla felt a confusing mix of emotions as she listened to Clark's defense. The love they had shared over the years was genuine. Clark's protection of her had always felt real. He consistently stood between her and his family's criticism.

But at the same time, his betrayal was also real. Those photos, that necklace in the trash can, the woman's taunting messages. All of it reminded her that this man had deceived her completely.

Anne was clearly unwilling to let this go. She continued with false sweetness. "I'm just telling the truth. No pregnancy in three years? Maybe there's something wrong with her body. With all the medical advances these days, she should get checked out. There are treatments for these things."

"Anne!" Clark's voice turned dangerously cold. "I'm warning you for the last time. Whether or when we have children is between Nyla and me. It's not your business to interfere."

In the past, Nyla would have been grateful for Clark's protection. She would have seen it as proof of his love. But today, hearing these words felt hollow.

She knew that the moment Clark cheated, everything changed. No amount of public defense could erase what he had done in private.

Midway through the banquet, Clark's phone suddenly rang.

"Sorry, everyone," Clark said with an apologetic smile. "There's an emergency at work. I need to handle this right away."

He turned to Nyla, his expression softening. "Honey, can you have Grandma's driver take you home? I'll be back as soon as I can."

Marie waved dismissively. "Clark, go ahead. Don't worry about Nyla."

Clark kissed Nyla's forehead quickly. "I'll make this up to you, I promise."

As soon as Clark's car disappeared down the driveway, Marie's polite mask slipped completely. She looked at Nyla with open displeasure.

"Well, now that Clark's gone," Marie said coolly, "I suppose you'll be wanting to leave too."

The temperature in the room seemed to drop.

"Nyla's not some delicate flower," Anne chimed in with renewed confidence. "She can find her own way home, can't she?"

Nyla felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment. She had been dismissed like a servant. Without Clark's protection, she meant nothing to these people.

"I think that's my cue to leave," Nyla said. She stood up. "Thank you for your hospitality."

The butler, following Marie's subtle nod, escorted Nyla only to the manor gate. He immediately turned back toward the house, leaving her standing alone on the roadside.

That's when the rain started.

Fat droplets fell from the dark sky, quickly soaking through Nyla's silk dress.

She pulled out her phone to call a taxi, but the app showed no available drivers in this remote area. The Summer estate was far from the city center.

The rain intensified rapidly. Within minutes, Nyla was completely drenched. Her carefully styled hair hung in wet strands around her face. Her dress clung uncomfortably to her skin.

Just when she thought things couldn't get worse, headlights cut through the darkness. A black Rolls-Royce slowed to a stop beside her.

The window rolled down, revealing Damon's sharp features.

As Damon prepared to leave the manor, he glanced out the car window. Through the rain, he could see Nyla huddled against the stone wall near the gate.

Her dress was completely soaked, clinging to her body and outlining her curves. Her long hair hung in wet strands around her face, making her look fragile and abandoned.

Damon understood immediately what had happened. He knew Marie and Anne's personalities well. They would never be kind enough to arrange transportation for the niece-in-law they had always disliked.

He turned to his assistant Spencer, who was sitting in the passenger seat. "Get out and hold an umbrella for her."

Spencer immediately grabbed the black umbrella from the floor and stepped out into the rain. He walked quickly toward Nyla while Damon rolled down his window.

"Get in," Damon said to Nyla. His voice was characteristically cold and commanding. "I'll take you home."

Nyla looked up, startled to see it was Damon. She instinctively took a step back, shaking her head. "Uncle Damon, it's okay. The rain will stop soon. I can wait."

She remembered Clark's warnings about how dangerous Damon could be. Clark had specifically told her to keep her distance from his uncle. She didn't want to cause herself any more trouble, especially not tonight.

Damon's brow furrowed when he saw Nyla clearly trying to avoid him. His tone grew deeper and more commanding. "Get in the car. Don't make me repeat myself."

His natural dominance was overwhelming. The way he spoke made it nearly impossible to refuse. Nyla felt her resolve weakening under his intense gaze.

Before she could refuse again, Spencer appeared beside her with the umbrella. He gently took her damp clutch from her trembling hands.

"Ms. Nyla, please get in the car," Spencer said kindly. "This rain will continue for at least another hour. It's very windy out here, and you're not dressed warmly enough. You'll catch pneumonia."

Spencer's tone was gentle and concerned. Nyla glanced up at the dark storm clouds, then down at her completely soaked dress. Water was still dripping from her hair. She was starting to shiver uncontrollably.

Finally, biting her lip, she opened the car door and slid inside.

The interior of the Rolls-Royce was warm and luxurious. Soft leather seats and the faint scent of expensive cologne filled the space. Nyla immediately felt the temperature difference.

Damon glanced at her wet dress, which was now clinging even more tightly to her body. The fabric had become almost transparent. He could see the outline of her undergarments. His throat tightened involuntarily.

Without a word, he took off his dark gray suit jacket and tossed it to her.

"Thank you," Nyla murmured, quickly pulling the jacket around her shoulders. It was still warm from his body heat and smelled like his cologne. The scent was surprisingly comforting. "I'll have it cleaned and return it to you."

"Just throw it away," Damon replied coldly. His tone carried casual arrogance, as if the expensive jacket meant nothing to him.

The car pulled away from the manor and drove smoothly through the rainy night. Silence settled between them. Nyla huddled in the corner of the backseat, not daring to look at the powerful man beside her. She could feel an oppressive aura radiating from him. It made her unconsciously nervous.

She stole a glance at his profile. His jaw was sharp and perfectly defined. His dark hair was styled impeccably despite the rain. Everything about him screamed wealth and power. He was nothing like Clark, who was gentle and approachable. Damon seemed dangerous.

Twenty minutes later, the car stopped in front of Nyla's house. She quickly gathered herself and reached for the door handle.

"Thank you so much for the ride," she said hurriedly, leaving his jacket on the seat. "I really appreciate it."

Damon watched her disappear inside the house. The faint scent of jasmine perfume still lingered in the car where she had been sitting.

He found himself breathing it in deeply. His body reacted involuntarily to her proximity.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "She's your nephew's wife," he warned himself silently. "Control yourself."

As soon as Nyla entered her house, she felt a wave of dizziness wash over her. Her body began to feel hot despite her wet clothes. Her head felt heavy and confused.

Before she could even change out of her soaked dress, everything went black. She collapsed in the living room.

When Nyla woke up, she found herself lying in a hospital bed. The room smelled strongly of disinfectant, but the bedside table was covered with familiar treats.

Strawberry shortcake, colorful macarons, handmade chocolates, and a large bouquet of pink roses.

"Ma'am, you're finally awake!" A nurse appeared beside her bed, looking relieved. "You've had a high fever for over twenty-four hours. Mr. Summer was so worried. He stayed by your bedside the entire time. He only left an hour ago because of an emergency call."

The nurse checked Nyla's temperature with a digital thermometer. "Do you want me to call him? He'll be so happy to know you're conscious."

Looking at the familiar arrangement of gifts, Nyla felt her heart soften despite everything. She had always been prone to illness and had a terrible fear of injections and medication.

Whenever she was sick, Clark would do exactly this. He would buy all her favorite treats and flowers, hoping to cheer her up and speed her recovery. It had become their tradition over the years.

These sweet memories made her chest ache with confusion. How could the man who cheated on her be the same person who spent the night worried beside her hospital bed?

"Where is he now?" Nyla asked, pushing herself up in bed. "I want to find him myself."

The nurse smiled. "He's somewhere in the hospital taking care of business."

She left her room and walked down the sterile hospital corridor.

As she rounded the corner, she stopped dead in her tracks.

There was Clark, coming out of the obstetrics and gynecology department. But he wasn't alone. A woman walked beside him, her hand resting protectively on her belly.