He Married His First Love, Then Made Me His Mistress

After seven years of love, I stood by Dexter Laurence’s side as he clawed his way from debt to the upper crust of high society.

But instead of a proposal, I received his marriage certificate, stamped with the name of his first love, Heidi Ambrose.

While he took and devoured my body, whispering sweet nothings and false promises, he let Heidi humiliate me, even helped her steal my awards, dragging me into a storm of public criticism.

Wounded and stripped of dignity, I turned away.

Goodbye.

I rose like wildfire, becoming the art world’s redhot sensation.

Now drowning in debt, Dexter lived each day under Heidi’s contempt yet still chased every scrap of news about me.

In his dying breath, he wanted to beg. But I no longer had the patience or the mercy to listen.

1

Completely naked, I was pinned against the window by Dexter, clinging to his waist, biting down on my lip to muffle the sounds spilling from my throat.

His halfpulled slacks were soaked, and he let out a low, sinful chuckle, his teeth grazing my earlobe. “What are you so shy about…”

I kept moaning his name, dizzy with heat, letting his kisses travel down my neck.

His strong hands gripped my waist, pulling me even closer just as I felt myself slipping into unconscious pleasure.

The rhythm shattered. A phone began to ring, sharp and jarring.

I collapsed against his shoulder, limp and breathless, giggling like I was drunk on him.

“This better be important, Jordan!” Dexter’s voice was pure fury like he could rip the caller apart.

“Interrupting something, huh? Dexter, bro, who’re you with? And what’s this wedding invite all about…” Jordan, his childhood friend, kept rambling.

Dexter cut him off in Spanish, sharp and cold.

“Shut up. Blythe’s here.”

Clearly startled to hear I was there, Jordan stammered in Spanish, “Blythe? I…I thought you were with Heidi. What’s this marriage certificate about?”

My smile froze. That name, just hearing it again, made my body tremble uncontrollably.

“Ambrose family is pushing for a marriage alliance. How could someone like her, someone who truly lives for art, be treated like that? I had to step in and save her!”

“So what now? Blythe agreed to be your mistress?” Jordan asked cautiously.

Dexter felt the tremble running through me. He slowly pulled out and gently wrapped me in the blankets. “She doesn’t know yet…”

“She doesn’t know? Then what the hell are you doing? Dexter, we all grew up with Heidi, sure, but where was she when your world was falling apart? She vanished when your family went bankrupt!”

“I haven’t forgiven her. And yet you still took her back? Just like that? And what about Blythe? She stayed by your side through everything. We all saw it. And this is how you repay her?”

Jordan’s tone was thick with disapproval.

Dexter glanced at me, then turned to stare into the night from the 79th floor, exhaling slowly. “I’ll make it up to her. Before registering the marriage, I already transferred part of the company’s shares to her name.”

“She wants to marry you, not your money! If it were about wealth, she wouldn’t have stayed with you through the worst!”

“Don’t tell her. I’ll give her a fake marriage certificate, send her away for a week. While she’s gone, I’ll hold a quiet wedding with Heidi.”

“How are you going to hide that?” Jordan pressed, but Dexter had already grown impatient. His fingers slipped back inside me as he ended the call.

I trembled, my body reacting violently. Dexter didn’t wait. He pushed me down again.

And just then, the phone rang once more.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Annoyed, Dexter reached for the phone to silence it, but the moment he saw the caller ID, he froze and pulled away.

My lips landed on emptiness.

“Blythe, urgent company issue. Go home on your own,” Dexter said, pressing a brief kiss to my cheek before slipping into the guest room to take the call.

I watched his back as he disappeared, and silent tears slipped down my cheeks.

I cried as I quietly gathered the clothes he had carelessly thrown across the floor. Barefoot, heels in hand, I walked out of the 79th floor alone.

I wandered aimlessly into the night wind, my body shivering from the cold.

What Dexter never knew was to help him win more foreign trade deals. I had already taught myself Spanish.

Not just Spanish. German. Italian.

All those skills I once learned for Dexter, tonight, every one of them became a blade, slicing straight through me.

Sharp stones cut into the soles of my feet. I crouched by the roadside, wincing in pain, arms wrapped tightly around myself.

When Dexter’s family plunged into debt, the Ambrose family turned their backs.

Even his girlfriend, Heidi, left behind just two words, “It’s over.” Then vanished without a trace.

But I was the one who gave him seven years.

I stood by him through his collapse and again as he clawed his way back to wealth.

And yet, I was no match for the first love who once walked away.

One flirtatious pout from her was all it took to erase everything.

I scoffed aloud, a bitter laugh slipping through my lips at the absurdity of my onesided devotion.

After what felt like a lifetime, I pulled out my phone, opened the email, and replied quietly.

[I confirm acceptance of the offer and will complete the followup process as required.]

The phone rang almost instantly. A voice burst through in excited.

“Blythe, I just saw your confirmation email and called right away. I was terrified you’d change your mind, that you wouldn’t come! Professor Matilda adores your work!”

Half a month ago, I represented the gallery in a local oil painting competition.

Unexpectedly, I caught the eye of Matilda Lennox. Her assistant, Imogen Caldwell, reached out, asking for samples of my recent work, and just days later, the invitation arrived.

Professor Matilda was preparing to retreat into seclusion to develop a new series. She planned to travel through remote landscapes for inspiration, and she hoped I could be both her student and assistant, fully immersed in the creation process.

For any artist with a heart still burning, it was a onceinalifetime opportunity, especially with the generous salary her studio offered.

But back then, I barely glanced at the email.

I had long since given up on painting, shelving my dreams to help Dexter rise again.

That competition had been nothing but a whim. Every canvas I’d touched in recent years was just a way to fill the silence.

All I had ever cared about was marrying Dexter, never wanting to be apart from him, not even for a second.

“Blythe? Are you listening? The studio already booked your flight. It’s in half a month. Is that okay?” Imogen’s voice chattered on, full of excitement.

“Yes, no problem. I’ll be there on time.”

Dexter didn’t come home that night. I curled up alone on the sofa, my eyes roaming across every corner of this little apartment.

We had bought this place with the earnings from our first big contract. It was Dexter’s idea, our love nest.

We lived here for years. Even after he reclaimed the company, we never moved.

This space held every piece of our past, every trace of affection.

I couldn’t even pinpoint the moment he stopped loving me.

Or maybe I was never the one he loved. Maybe I had only ever been a placeholder.

That night, I didn’t sleep.

I packed up every single thing that belonged to him.

I had never noticed it before, but as I packed, the truth hit me. Everything in this house had been prepared by me. Every item, every detail.

The things Dexter actually used had long since been moved to the 79th floor.

This socalled home had been nothing more than a cage built solely to trap me inside.

The next morning, I arrived at the gallery, only to find the team busy installing a new exhibit.

I stood in the center of the space, staring at the largest canvas: the tender silhouette of a couple from behind.

The woman’s hand was raised slightly, a wedding ring gleaming on her finger.

The man had only been painted in rough strokes, but the tattoo on his right arm was unmistakable.

Its placement and design were identical to Dexter’s.

“Blythe, you’re here! What is this painting anyway? And they want to hang this garbage right in the center? HQ sends all kinds of trash. Next time, you should just butter up the boss. This? It’s pathetic.”

My coworker Anna Alesna came over to stand beside me, looking at the painting.

The gallery was a subsidiary of the Laurence Group.

Dexter never wanted me to work, but I hated being idle, so I took this position as a formality.

He never once concerned himself with gallery affairs. His empire was far too vast.

This was the first time he had ever given direct instructions for an exhibit.

My gaze fell on the freshly mounted artist bio: Heidi Ambrose.

Of course.

“Blythe, why are you here? The big boss called. He said you’d be taking time off from the gallery!”

Harriet Sutherland, the director, rushed over in a panic, subtly trying to block the artist’s name from my view.

So, that black card Dexter tossed me, telling me to go abroad and shop freely. It was just a distraction. A way to quietly promote Heidi without letting me find out.

I lowered my head, pretending not to notice anything, and walked into the office.

After all her years of study and training, this was what Heidi had produced?

I couldn’t tell if this was the best she could offer or if she simply wanted to make sure I saw it, to let me know they were already married.

I handed off all my tasks to Anna.

It wasn’t even a resignation. Technically, I was never a real employee.

I had thrown away every path that once belonged to my own future, all for him.

For three days straight, Dexter didn’t come home. I didn’t call.

Not once.

Now that I was leaving this city, I had no job to transition to and no friend to say goodbye to.

Seven years ago, my entire world revolved around Dexter.

I bought a new suitcase and replaced every piece of clothing that still carried his scent.

Finally, on the fourth day, a WhatsApp request appeared from an unfamiliar number. [There are still a few matters regarding the competition that need to be confirmed with Miss Griggs.]

I didn’t care about the competition anymore.

I had already signed the contract with Professor Matilda.

But the profile photo was of Dexter.

Even though it only showed half his sleeping face, I recognized it instantly.

That tattoo on his arm was undeniably his.

After accepting the request, I opened the stranger’s Instagram feed.

Pinned at the top was a post from this morning: nine wedding photos by the sea, across sprawling grasslands, and in front of a castle.

The woman’s face was always turned away or captured from behind. But the man’s face? Clear as day, it was Dexter.

I could guess the bride was Heidi.

Dexter clearly didn’t want me to know they were married, but she couldn’t help showing off. So she hid her face on purpose.

That account never messaged me again, and I didn’t bother replying. I walked straight into the bathroom and turned on the shower.

But halfway through, a pair of large hands reached around from behind, slamming me gently against the bathroom wall.

My bare skin was pressed against his soaked trousers.

Dexter’s mouth found the sensitive spot behind my ear, kissing roughly, his hands roaming, gripping, and teasing my body.

“Not resisting? Aren’t you scared I might be a bad guy?” he teased, turning me around.

Without thinking, I wrapped my legs around his waist.

“Miss me? I was pulled into a lastminute business trip for three days. Why didn’t you come looking for me? Are you mad?”

He didn’t give me a chance to answer. His mouth crashed into mine, kissing me until I melted in his arms.

How could his love be this divided?

Three days of wedding photos with another woman, and then he returned to play the lover again as if nothing had changed.

I tried to push him away, but my strength had already dissolved under his touch.

“Let me go, Dexter. You reek of perfume. It’s making me nauseous,” I whispered, leaning weakly against him.

His body went rigid. He released me almost instantly.

By the time I finished drying off and stepped out, he had already changed into a new suit.

“Probably from President Bailey of Constellano Culture. He always bathes in cologne,” he said quickly, lying without even thinking. And it showed.

There was no perfume on him.

Just guilt, thick and clinging, after three days with Heidi.

“Why didn’t you go shopping? I heard you handed over your duties at the gallery. What happened?” Dexter’s eyes were fixed on my face, watching too closely.

He was so flustered that he accidentally brought up my new suitcase

“Why did you pack? Where are you going? Blythe, I…”

He faltered, unsure whether to explain, then suddenly crouched down and yanked open the suitcase.

“Is it because of those paintings? I can explain! I won’t let you leave me, those aren’t—”

“What paintings?” I cut him off, my voice flat.

So it was Heidi’s paintings that made him come running back to coax me.

They were already married. The gallery was hers now.

Why should I matter at all?

“I did go shopping. The saleslady gave me a suitcase to carry everything. I bought so much, I figured I might as well keep it.”

“What, you can disappear for days without a word, but I can’t max out your card? You want me to stay at the gallery and keep earning for you?”

I pouted, putting on my best playful sulk.

I was exhausted. If he wanted to keep pretending, let him. If we were going to part ways, we might as well make it graceful.

Dexter glanced at the pile of clothes, tags still intact, and exhaled in relief.

“You just said the paintings made you want to leave me?”

I stared into his eyes. His gaze flickered, avoiding mine, as he reached for a towel and began drying my hair.

“Just I bought a few paintings. They said I overpaid. I was worried you’d be upset…”

What a clumsy excuse.

The doorbell rang. Dexter immediately pushed me toward the bedroom.

“Go change. I brought in a stylist. I’m taking you to the award ceremony later.”

“What award ceremony?”

“The oil painting competition!”

“There’s no need,” I said calmly. “I only joined for fun.”

After all, I had already accepted the offer. Whatever happened with the competition didn’t matter anymore.

“No way! My wife’s work is going to win first prize. I’m buying it for the gallery!”

Wife.

He had never called me that before.

The word hit me like a stone. My body froze for a second.

The moment the door shut behind me, the tears came. Silent, sudden, unstoppable.

What was this?

A caged canary? A mistress bought off with affection and money?

I picked up my phone, my hands still trembling.

The stranger’s Instagram feed had just been updated again.

The woman still kept her face turned away while Dexter knelt on one knee, slipping a diamond ring onto her finger.

In the photo, I recognized so many familiar faces, Dexter’s childhood friends.

When he brought the Laurence family back into high society, they had smiled at me politely.

But behind closed doors, I was always that poor girl, the dog Dexter keeps.

I pretended not to hear. I forced myself to let it go for his sake.

I always gave his friend a face.

More than once, I had overheard them whisper that Heidi was his true match.

That I wasn’t even fit to carry her shoes.

And now, in that photo, their glowing expressions said it all.

The prince had finally reunited with his princess.

To them, this was the ending the story had always deserved.

I sat in silence as the stylist fussed over me for two hours. Staring at my reflection in the mirror, I could barely recognize the woman looking back.

Once, I was just an ordinary girl chasing her dreams through art.

Everything changed the moment I met Dexter.

Now, with the illusion finally unraveling, I told myself, let this be the last celebration.

As we stepped out of the car, a sharp gust of wind swept by. Dexter, ever so considerate, slipped off his jacket and moved to drape it over my shoulders, but then came a sweet voice. “Brother Dexter!”

His hand froze. The coat nearly slipped from his grasp.

We turned toward the sound. That profile was undeniable. The same angle as the photos. It was Heidi.

Dexter’s expression darkened instantly. “Why are you here?”

“I’m also in the competition…” Heidi stammered, biting her lip just before the tears began to fall.

With acting like that, she didn’t need a canvas. She needed a red carpet. The Oscars owed her a trophy.

Dexter was caught off guard and reached out awkwardly to wipe her tears, but I grabbed his hand and walked straight into the venue. “It’s starting.”

I didn’t believe it was a coincidence. After all her provocations, it was clear. She wanted to see me crack in front of Dexter.

She wanted a scene. A confrontation. She wanted everything laid bare.

But I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction.

Throughout the award ceremony, Heidi kept casting glances in Dexter’s direction.

He leaned over, his voice low, saying they hadn’t seen each other in years, that he didn’t even know she was back in the country.

I said nothing.

Then came the announcement of the first prize. The host’s voice shifted, taking on a serious tone.

“There’s been some controversy regarding the first prize. We received a late submission that appears nearly identical to the judges’ original selection. Due to plagiarism concerns…”

“The committee has chosen to withhold the award. Both pieces will be exhibited, and the artists are asked to clarify the situation.”

There it was, my painting.

And next to it, a piece disturbingly similar.

“I heard some big name’s searching for a protégé! Stakes are high this year!”

“High stakes or not, plagiarism? That’s crossing the line. Just look, the one on the right clearly copied the left!”

“Not so sure. Maybe the left one’s just less refined, and the right borrowed the idea?”

“Doesn’t matter. Whoever’s at fault is finished. In the art world, one scandal like this and you’re done.”

The chatter swelled louder and louder, voices buzzing with tension.

Then the host revealed the name of the artist who had copied my work, Heidi.

She froze, her face flushing a deep, furious red.

That painting had been finished long ago. It had hung in the master bedroom on the 79th floor.

When I entered the competition on a whim, I had casually selected that piece.

She must have seen it in Dexter’s room.

Copied it on purpose. To provoke me.

To prove she had even shared his bed.

She never expected I’d use that exact painting for the competition.

“I completed this piece a long time ago. It’s been hanging in my boyfriend’s bedroom ever since. It was inspired by a trip we took together. His family photos can verify it, and he personally watched me paint it.”

Then I turned and handed the microphone to Dexter.

“Boyfriend’s word doesn’t count as proof!” someone from the crowd called out.

But another voice cut in.

“Her boyfriend’s the president of the Laurence Group! She’s not some amateur. She didn’t plagiarize. She probably joined just for fun!”

“No way she copied anything. I know her. Dexter’s bought out her entire gallery more than once, just to spoil her. She’s not here to compete. She’s just playing.”

People were quick to side with the powerful. They didn’t even stop to think.

But Dexter said nothing.

Heidi stood there, lip trembling, eyes glassy, wearing that same pitiful expression she always did.

After a long silence, Dexter leaned in and whispered into my ear, saying, “Heidi’s an artist. She can’t have this kind of stain on her record. I’m sure it’s all just a misunderstanding…”

I stared at him, stunned, as he stepped forward and took the microphone.

“My girlfriend’s just been spoiled by me. The Laurence Group is prepared to donate ten million to charity and purchase both paintings.”

“What do you mean, Dexter?! You saw me paint it with your own eyes! So your first love gets protected, but I get accused of plagiarism?!” I blurted out, unable to hold back.

Dexter wrapped his arm around me, speaking softly like he was soothing a child.

“I won’t let the media touch it, don’t worry. Heidi isn’t like you, art is her everything. But you? You don’t even have to paint if you don’t want to. I can take care of you. If you get bored, I’ll buy you two more galleries, okay?”

The host, hearing the words “ten million donation,” jumped in quickly to smooth things over:

“It’s completely normal for two artists to be inspired by the same landscape and express similar emotions!”

I glanced at Dexter and let out a quiet scoff.

Of course. I should’ve known.

He would twist black into white without blinking, just to shield Heidi.

He wouldn’t hesitate to throw me under the bus. Why else would he marry her behind my back?

Letting me stand accused of plagiarism meant nothing to him.

I was just a decoration, his hidden canary in a gilded cage.

But Heidi? She was the delicate flower he had to protect. The real artist. The one whose career had to remain spotless.

Who could I blame?

It was me who gave up my dreams for him. I agreed to play the role of his shadow.

I deserved it.

Amid the whispers and cruel murmurs growing louder around us, I tore my hand from Dexter’s grip and stormed out.

Dexter ran after me, and to my surprise, Heidi followed close behind.

“Miss Griggs, leaving the venue like that. Does this mean you’re admitting to plagiarizing Miss Ambrose?”

“Miss Griggs, we’ve confirmed your boyfriend and Miss Ambrose were childhood sweethearts. Was his response tonight a sign that your relationship is over?”

“Miss Ambrose’s here as well! Miss Ambrose, how do you respond to claims that your work falls far below Miss Griggs’s in skill and originality?”

“Miss Ambrose, do you have anything to say about the rumors accusing you of coming between Miss Griggs and President Laurence?”

Flashbulbs burst across the night like a storm of lightning.

Microphones pushed toward me from every direction.

For a split second, instinct told me to seek shelter, to hide in Dexter’s arms.

But he had already moved, shielding Heidi, standing firmly in front of her.

He didn’t even glance at me.

“Which outlet are you with? Who said you could take pictures?” he barked.

I stood alone in the wind, its chill cutting through me.

Maybe this was how it had to end. He didn’t need me beside him anymore.

From this moment forward, I’d protect myself.

“President Laurence, so you’re confirming the breakup with Miss Griggs?” the reporters pressed, voices rising over one another.

Heidi suddenly began to tremble, her voice soft and shaking. “Brother Dexter… I’m scared…”

The reporters surged forward, thrilled by the drama, thrusting their microphones into Heidi’s tearstreaked face.

Dexter’s frown deepened. Without hesitation, he swept Heidi into his arms and rushed toward his car.

Some reporters followed them in a frenzy, while others turned their cameras back on me.

In the chaos, someone stumbled. A camera slipped from their grip and crashed into my arm.

“Ah! My hand!” I cried out, staggering from the blow. The heavy lens had slammed hard into my wrist.

Dexter paused for a brief second.

But Heidi clung tighter to his neck, sobbing, “I’m so scared…”

He never looked back. He gently helped her into the passenger seat, then drove away.

Everything had been caught on camera.

And just like that, fearing backlash, the reporters scattered.

In the end, it was a lone security guard, unable to stomach what he saw, who stepped forward to help and called an ambulance.

Thankfully, the bone wasn’t broken, just a mild sprain.

With time and rest, it would heal.

I went through the checkup alone. Picked up my medication alone. And returned home alone.

Dexter still didn’t come back.

Worried the plagiarism scandal might jeopardize my job offer, I quickly called Imogen.

“Hey, Blythe! We didn’t just look at one painting. We reviewed dozens of your works. Of course we know your style!”

“Don’t worry. The teacher’s already used her connections to circulate your other pieces. They speak for themselves. Honestly? This is the best kind of rebuttal!”

A stranger I had never even met was willing to step up and clear my name.

But Dexter? He let me get dragged through the mud without a word.

I thought I’d feel heartbroken. But all I felt was disappointment. Disappointment in my pathetic taste in men.

That night, the pain in my wrist got worse. I had to take painkillers just to sleep.

While digging through the medicine box, I found the old ointment Dexter once bought for me. A wave of bitter nostalgia hit me hard.

Back then, when he was drowning in debt, I stayed beside him, accompanying him to dinners, helping him craft proposals, and securing bids.

Every night before bed, he would take out that ointment and gently massage my hand, whispering with a smile, “Our Blythe’s hand is worth more than Van Gogh’s. When I bounce back, you’ll paint as much as you want.”

Those blushworthy words still echoed in my ears.

But now, he couldn’t even be bothered to ask if I was okay.

I pulled out my phone.

Heidi’s alternate account had just posted a new photo: dozens of gold jewelry pieces, gleaming with age and heavy opulence.

The caption read, [Hubby says the best way to ward off shock is gold! Tacky or not, it’s all heavy with love!]

She really went out of her way to flaunt it just for me to see.

How exhausting that must be.

But I never fought over men.

If he wasn’t mine, I wouldn’t take him, even if he was handed to me.

I glanced down at my injured right hand.

I had tried so hard to protect his pride.

Since he didn’t want me to know the truth, I pretended I didn’t.

But now? I regretted it.

I just wanted to rip the mask off. End it. Clean, cold, merciless.

After taking the painkillers, I slipped into a dazed, drugged sleep.

I didn’t know how long I was out before the phone rang, jolting me awake.

“Blythe, the driver’s downstairs. Come to Brother Jordan’s club now. I’m waiting.”

Still halfdazed, I stumbled toward the window.

Sure enough, the driver stood beside the car, scanning the building for me.

So, after calming Heidi, he came to pacify me next?

He really didn’t get tired of this game.

I wanted to make it clear and end it once and for all.

But as I stood to leave, a wave of dizziness swept over me.

The moment I pushed open the private room door, the oncelively chatter came to a screeching halt.

Heidi was halfleaning against Dexter, her eyes red and watery, like a scene straight out of a bad melodrama.

“Damn, lowclass trash always has their little tricks. And such a stench when she walks in. A woman sneered I’d seen twice before. One of those childhood friends who’d grown up alongside Heidi and Dexter. Every time we met, she made sure to remind me how perfect the two of them were for each other.

I had thought Dexter called me here to comfort me after what happened. I never expected a full audience.

I’d thrown a jacket over my loungewear, expecting something quiet, and now every gaze in the room was dragging over me, head to toe.

“If you don’t want to be here, then leave! Sisinlaw isn’t like that, it has to be a misunderstanding!”

To my surprise, the one who spoke up for me was Jordan.

“Sisinlaw? What makes her sisinlaw? Heidi is—”

She shot to her feet, but Dexter’s voice cracked through the room. “Enough!”

Even now, Dexter was still chasing the illusion of having both.

Still hiding the truth. Still pretending he wasn’t already married to Heidi.

What he didn’t know was that Heidi had already lost patience and flaunted it proudly to me through her alternative account.

“Oh, right. If you say it’s just a misunderstanding, then of course it is. My reputation, my twenty years of hard work in art, none of that matters. As long as sisinlaw’s feelings aren’t hurt. Can’t have me spoiling her mood…”

Heidi choked out a sob, tears flowing again, coating the room in a sickening sweetness.

“What exactly do you want? If there’s nothing, I’m leaving.”

The meds were making me lightheaded. Her performance was exhausting. I just wanted out.

“Were those reporters at the venue your doing? Trying to smear Heidi and destroy her art career?”

Dexter’s tone was cold, and his stare even colder. I instinctively pulled my jacket tighter around me.

Heidi leaned closer to him, just enough to brush against his shoulder.

A smirk tugged at the corner of her lips before she quickly masked it with another sob.

“So now I’m the one who forced her to plagiarize my work? Then hired reporters to expose her?”

“I’d never stoop that low, but now that you mention it, not a bad plan.”

Dizzy, my temper snapped.

“Shameless! You’re the one who copied Heidi and bribed the judges! Switched the paintings and fooled everyone into thinking yours was better!”

Heidi’s face twisted.

I let out a low, cold laugh. “What? Even your friend admits your painting’s worse. That’s rough. Art takes talent, after all.”

Her tears soaked half of Dexter’s shoulder as she sobbed pitifully.

“Sister Blythe, I know you’re afraid I’ll steal Brother Dexter, but ever since my family forced us apart, I’ve already let go. Why are you targeting me like this…”

Forced to break up?

Back then, Dexter had flown overseas just to see her one last time.

He waited outside her apartment in the pouring rain, an entire day and night, until he collapsed with a raging fever.

And Heidi? She never spared him a single glance.

Now, all it took was one word, forced, and Dexter, like a loyal dog, had come crawling back.

I let out a long, quiet breath.

There was no point mocking Dexter anymore.

Wasn’t I the same?

I had known full well he still carried scars from his past. And still, I gave him everything.

Seven years standing by him without question.

“What do you want from me?”

“As long as the misunderstanding is cleared up, that’s enough. Sister Blythe, please don’t use tactics like that again. Brother Dexter already has enough betrayal to deal with in the business world.”

Heidi pulled away from Dexter and filled a glass to the brim with strong liquor.

“Drink this, and the matter is over.”

Dexter’s face was cloaked in shadows. I couldn’t make out his expression.

When I didn’t move, Heidi lifted a smaller glass and downed it in one gulp.

“This is my sincerity.” She collapsed dramatically onto Dexter’s arm, feigning a cough.

“Heidi never drinks Look at her now and you’re still playing innocent? Everyone knows how many times you’ve toasted at business dinners with Dexter! Can’t drink a drop now? What kind of act is this?”

I didn’t flinch.

My gaze stayed locked on Dexter, hidden in the dark.

“So you want me to drink too? Apologize to your new lover. Oh, wait. I forgot. Old lover.”

Dexter said nothing.

The others might not have known.

But he did.

Back then, to help him seal deals, I gave up painting and followed him to countless dinners, drinking until I ended up with a bleeding ulcer.

The doctor had warned me: if I drank again, I might lose part of my stomach.

And yet that night, clutching a freshly signed contract, Dexter had knelt by my hospital bed, crying, swearing he’d protect me.

That he’d give me all his love.

All his love?

What a joke.

“Alright!” I grabbed the glass and downed it in one shot.

“Is that enough? Have I satisfied your old lover yet? You want to crawl for her? Be my guest. But why drag me down with you? Dexter, I was wrong. My biggest mistake was falling in love with you with blind eyes.”

Heidi covered her mouth as if shocked, but her eyes sparkled with laughter.

A sharp pain twisted through my stomach. A metallic taste filled my mouth.

I reached for the halffinished bottle of liquor and poured it down, gulp after gulp.

“Stop it! That’s enough!” Dexter finally rushed over, yanking the bottle from my hands.

Out of nowhere, Jordan stormed in and landed a punch straight into Dexter’s shoulder.

“Are you even a man? She drank herself into an ulcer for you, did you forget? And now you’re tearing her apart for this bitch? She’s right. Dexter, you’re nothing but a damn lapdog.”

I stood frozen, stunned. I had only met Jordan a handful of times, yet even a near stranger stepped in to defend me.

While the man I had loved for seven years didn’t hesitate to trade my life for the woman he worshipped.

“Oh please, I always knew this trash had her tricks. Seduced Dexter, now she’s working her way through his friends. What is it, Jordan? You want his leftovers? Or have you already had her?” sneered the woman beside Heidi Ambrose.

Jordan’s hand trembled with rage. He pointed at Dexter, then slowly lowered it.

He turned to me. “Dexter, we’re done. Blythe, do you want to go to the hospital? My driver’s waiting.”

I shook my head. My vision swam. My stomach churned.

“Dexter, we’re breaking up.”

I didn’t cry. But the second those words left my lips, I coughed up blood, dark, thick, splattering across the floor.

Dexter lunged forward in panic, trying to catch me.

But Heidi let out a shrill cry behind him. “Brother Dexter! I faint at the sight of blood… I… I feel dizzy…”

Blood surged up from my gut. I pressed a hand to my mouth, trying not to look pitiful.

But it seeped through my fingers, hot and merciless.

I turned and staggered toward the door.

This was good. Dexter, this love, painful and broken, should finally come to an end.

“Brother Dexter, don’t leave me!” I heard Heidi’s desperate voice echo behind me as I turned the corner, clenching my teeth.

Blood dotted the marble floor beneath me as my legs gave out.

Just before consciousness slipped away, I caught the familiar scent of Dexter’s cologne.

When I opened my eyes again, I was lying in a sterile hospital bed.

My hand was cradled tightly in Dexter’s trembling palm.

“Blythe! Are you alright? Does it still hurt?”

His bloodshot eyes brimmed with worry as he wiped the sweat from my forehead. His phone buzzed over and over on the table.

“I’m fine. Go handle your work,” I said flatly, pulling my hand away.

He hesitated.

“You’re still mad? I know you only did that because you felt insecure. I already had PR shut it all down!”

So, in his mind, I had really framed Heidi.

I didn’t even bother explaining. “When can I be discharged?”

I needed to make sure this wouldn’t interfere with my trip abroad.

“Don’t worry. The doctor said you’ll be fine in a week! Blythe, it’s my fault. I didn’t give you enough security before. But look, what’s this?”

Dexter cupped my chin and turned my face toward him, holding up a red marriage certificate.

I opened it, and there it was. Our names printed side by side, a photo of us smiling like strangers in a dream.

He really had someone forge a fake marriage certificate for me.

“President Laurence’s influence is impressive. Married me without me even showing up?”

Dexter looked genuinely confused as if expecting me to leap into his arms.

“Legal affairs can handle that kind of thing. Aren’t you happy? You’ve always wanted to marry me.”

A WhatsApp notification lit up my screen.

Heidi’s alternative account had finally cracked. [Make him leave. Let’s talk face to face.]

[Okay.]

After replying, I forced a stiff smile. “Of course I’m happy. Go finish your work. I’ll be right here, waiting like a good girl.”

Dexter looked visibly relieved. “I’ve already arranged for Sable Studio to design your wedding dress. She can’t come to the US right now, so once you’re discharged, you’ll fly out. I’ll join you later. We’ll treat it like a honeymoon.”

So, he still planned to send me away. Still afraid I’d ruin their perfect little wedding?

“Hmm, sure. Whatever you say. Now go. Your phone’s been ringing nonstop.”

I kept coaxing him, soft and patient, until he finally left.

A nurse came in soon after to change my IV.

“Your husband really loves you. You didn’t see it. He was covered in blood, holding you and crying, begging the doctors to save you. He stayed up the entire night while you were unconscious…”

I stared blankly at the needle in my hand. But before she could finish, the door opened, and Heidi walked in.

"You’ve seen it, we’re already married. The wedding is next week."

The feigned sweetness on Heidi’s face had completely dissolved.

I turned my gaze toward the window, refusing to meet her eyes.

"I know he wants to ship you off abroad, then bring you back like some caged canary after our ceremony. The Laurence family can afford it, but honestly, I find it disgusting."

When I said nothing, she pulled out a check from her handbag and tossed it onto my lap.

"Twenty million. I want you to disappear from Dexter’s life. Cut all ties. Never show your face to him again!"

I picked up the check. The signature at the bottom was unmistakably from the Ambrose family.

Even for them, twenty million wasn’t a small sum.

"Alright."

Heidi hadn’t expected me to agree so easily, and not only did I agree, I even tucked the check into my pocket without hesitation.

I was already planning to leave, so why not take it?

Consider it a little compensation from Heidi for my hospital bills.

"What? Were you hoping I’d cry and beg? A twotiming man like him suits you to the bone!"

"Just remember your promise. The Ambrose family isn’t someone you want to provoke! If money was all you wanted, why create such a scene?" Heidi scoffed and arrogantly left.

I spent the next week in the hospital.

Dexter came to see me every single day, but as the wedding drew closer, he was clearly swamped. His visits became shorter, his phone rang constantly, and his attention was never truly with me.

It almost felt like he didn’t want me to step outside that hospital room.

I didn’t want to return to the place we once called home either, so I had his assistant pack up my things and bring them over.

The morning I was discharged, Dexter arrived early and personally drove me to the airport.

Several times along the way, I glanced at the billboards outside, but he’d rather run a red light than let me get a clear look.

Of course, I already knew those weren’t just advertisements. They were wedding posters. His wedding with Heidi.

I pretended not to notice and quietly let him drop me off.

My luggage was so light I didn’t even need to check it in.

Dexter walked me all the way to the security checkpoint and pulled me into a tight embrace.

“Very soon, in just a week, no, three days. Blythe, I’ll fly over to join you. I can’t stand being apart from you, not even for a minute.”

I pushed him away and stared at the man, still pretending to be full of affection.

At that moment, I knew I never wanted anything to do with him again.

“Do you remember what I said at the club that day?” I looked at him one last time and finally saw it: when love fades, even the most handsome face becomes dull.

“Which part?” Dexter’s phone wouldn’t stop ringing. He asked the question as he picked up the call.

I turned and stepped through the security gate.

“The part where I said we’re breaking up!”

“What? I didn’t catch that!” he shouted behind the crowd, one hand over the phone.

I raised my hand in a casual wave and vanished into the sea of people.

Tucked away in a quiet corner, I watched until he left the airport.

Only then did I pull out my phone, block all his contacts, remove the SIM card, and toss it aside, along with the flight ticket he had bought me.

I boarded the flight to Sweden arranged by the studio long ago.

Goodbye, Dexter. I would never see you again.