Longing Beneath Blossoms

"I’ve thought it through. I'll marry the Ashford family’s comatose heir." Rhea Vaughn leaned against the doorway of the Vaughn family’s old residence, her red lips curving into a sharp, mocking smile. The cigar in Victor Vaughn’s hand nearly slipped and fell onto the priceless Persian carpet. He jerked upright from his leather chair, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes stretching open as his face lit up. "Rhea, you’ve come around? That’s wonderful! The Ashfords have been pressing hard. You’ll need to marry into Harborwyn within two weeks. What style of wedding dress do you like? I will have someone order it for you—" "That’s it?" Rhea let out a cold laugh. "I’m taking your beloved illegitimate daughter’s place and marrying into that family for you, and you’re not going to show anything in return?" Chapter 1 "I’ve thought it through. I'll marry the Ashford family’s comatose heir." Rhea Vaughn leaned against the doorway of the Vaughn family’s old residence, her red lips curving into a sharp, mocking smile. The cigar in Victor Vaughn’s hand nearly slipped and fell onto the priceless Persian carpet. He jerked upright from his leather chair, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes smoothing out as his face lit up. "Rhea, you’ve come around? That’s wonderful! The Ashfords have been pressing hard. You’ll need to marry into Harborwyn in the next two weeks. What style of wedding dress do you like? I will have someone order it for you—" "That’s it?" Rhea let out a cold laugh. "I’m taking your beloved illegitimate daughter, Vera Vaughn’s place and marrying into that family for you, and you’re not going to show anything in return?" The temperature in the living room dropped instantly. Victor’s face darkened. "Watch how you speak. What illegitimate daughter? That’s your sister." "A sister is someone born of the same mother." Rhea chuckled softly, ice sealing over her eyes. "She’s the product of your affair. I will never acknowledge her in this lifetime." The vein at Victor Vaughn’s temple bulged, fury surging up his face. He forced it down just before it erupted. He took a deep breath. Ash fell from the tip of his cigar. "What do you want?" "Ten billion." Her lips parted calmly. "And after I’m married, transfer Wyatt Pierce to protect your precious Vera." Victor froze. He stared at her as if she had lost her mind. "Are you insane? Ten billion would drain all my liquid assets. And Wyatt is your favorite bodyguard. You used to make a fuss about marrying him. Now you’re getting married, and you’re not even taking him with you?" "Just answer yes or no." Rhea’s patience snapped. She turned to leave. "Fine!" Victor slammed his hand on the table. "The day you go to Harborwyn to marry, I’ll have both things done immediately." He had no interest in thinking deeper. He only wanted to lock this down as fast as possible. Back then, the Ashfords' only son had been dazzling and untouchable. Victor had rushed to secure an engagement between the two families, planning to marry Vera off and give his younger daughter a good future. No one expected an accident to put the Ashford heir into a coma. Victor could not bear to see Vera suffer. That was when he remembered that Rhea was also his daughter. With her back to him, she waved a hand casually. Her heels clicked crisply against the marble floor, each step sounding like a slap across someone’s face. Just as she wrapped her fingers around the doorknob, Victor’s voice came again from behind her. "I can understand wanting money. Still, you love Wyatt more than anyone. How can you bear to give him to Vera?" Rhea’s fingers stiffened. She did not turn around. Her eyes burned suddenly. That name pierced her like a thorn, stabbing straight into the softest part of her heart. She shoved the door open hard, shutting Victor and that question behind her. By the time she returned to the villa, it was already late at night. Rhea walked upstairs in her heels. As she passed Wyatt’s room, she heard restrained sounds coming from inside. The door was not fully closed. She lifted her gaze and saw the scene inside with brutal clarity. Wyatt was half-reclined against the headboard, his long fingers holding a photograph. His eyes were closed, his Adam’s apple rolling as a low, husky voice spilled out. "Vera… baby… so good…" It was Vera’s photo. Taken at last year’s birthday banquet. She wore a white dress, smiling with innocent purity. Rhea’s nails dug crescent-shaped marks into the handle of her Hermes bag. At last, she answered Victor’s question in her heart, 'Because he is just like you. He only likes Vera.' The answer churned inside her, scorching her organs until everything hurt. She first met Wyatt three years ago when she was selecting a bodyguard. Among the towering men lined up, she locked onto him at first glance. The reason was simple: he was outrageously handsome. Six-foot-two with broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and sharp features. Especially those pitch-black eyes, cold as tempered ice. Rhea was famously known as a little seductress in their circle. She had planned to tease him for fun. Three years passed instead. When she deliberately got drunk and collapsed into his arms, he hooked a hand around the back of her neck like lifting a cat and set her back onto the sofa. When she knocked on his door late at night in a slip dress, he wrapped her entirely in his suit jacket and escorted her back to her room with perfect courtesy. When she pretended to drown in the swimming pool, he jumped in to save her, yet never once touched her waist. No matter how she flirted, he stayed distant. Chaste. Proper. Always addressing her as Miss Vaughn. Somewhere along the way, she fell for him anyway. She did not know when it happened. Perhaps she had been unbearably lonely after her mother died. When she was seven, Victor had an affair and brought home an illegitimate daughter named Vera Vaughn. She was only three months younger than Rhea. Out of ten years of marriage, he had cheated for nine of them. That day, the family Rhea believed to be happy and peaceful was shattered completely. Mrs. Evelyn Vaughn, her mother, was nine months pregnant with Victor’s second child, just days from delivery. Mrs. Vaughn loved him desperately. She confronted him hysterically, crying until she nearly lost consciousness. That night, she went into premature labor. She was rushed to the hospital and died before she even made it into the operating room. One corpse. Two lives lost. From that day on, Rhea hated Victor. She hated Vera even more. She moved out of the Vaughn estate. She went to school alone, ate alone, and grew up alone. Only when the harassment from spoiled rich boys became unbearable did she decide to hire a bodyguard. Wyatt Pierce was her first. From that point on, she was no longer alone. Whatever she did, Wyatt was always there. Her feelings shifted from admiration to teasing to love. Three years. Over a thousand days and nights, not once did his gaze falter with any trace of emotion for her. She thought he was born cold-hearted. Until that day. She caught him holding Vera’s photograph while touching himself. Then she watched him finish and answer a phone call immediately afterward. "Master Wren, how long are you going to keep playing bodyguard? You’re the Blackridge crown prince. What woman can’t you have? If you fell for Vera at first sight, just take her by force. Why play innocent and work as her sister’s bodyguard just to see her every day?" Wyatt’s expression was calm. "I checked. Vera is an illegitimate daughter. She had a hard childhood, so she lacks a sense of security. Pursuing her recklessly would scare her. I want to take it slow." "Unbelievable. The Wren family really produced a hopeless romantic. I thought with Miss Vaughn flirting with you every day, you’d fall for her. Let me tell you, she’s famous in the circle. The men who fancy her could line up all the way to France—" Wyatt seemed to smile faintly. What he said next sent Rhea plunging straight into an ice abyss. "Is that so? Well, I'm not interested. She can't compare to even a single strand of Vera’s hair." Every word stabbed into Rhea’s heart like a blade. From that moment on, she no longer liked Wyatt. The sounds inside dragged on for an unknown amount of time. For reasons unclear, Wyatt had still not finished that night. Seeing this, Rhea curled her lips coldly and shoved the door open. Chapter 2 The moment Wyatt lifted his gaze, Rhea saw a depthless darkness in his eyes. Perhaps it was because he had always been someone in power. Even after being caught like this, there was not the slightest ripple in his expression. He calmly slid the photograph beneath the pillow. His long fingers moved unhurriedly as he adjusted the zipper. In just a few seconds, he had returned to that ascetic, distant composure, as if the man who had lost control moments ago had been nothing more than an illusion. Rhea could not help letting out a faint, cold laugh. "Putting it away before you are finished. Aren’t you afraid of holding it in? Want me to help you?" Wyatt’s expression did not change. He leaned back slightly, widening the distance between them. "Miss Vaughn, did you need something?" He was always like this. He could be stirred beyond restraint by Vera’s photograph, yet when facing her, he looked like a monk untouched by desire. Rhea’s nails dug into her palm as she recalled Vera’s plain, watery face. Her figure was unremarkable, her looks nothing special, yet everyone still fell for that carefully cultivated innocence. It did not matter. Rhea had beauty, money, and a body to match. From today onward, she would discard anyone who did not want her without regret. "There’s an auction tomorrow. You’re coming with me." She turned and walked away after delivering the order in a cool and detached tone. Wyatt frowned. "I remember taking two days off—" "I heard Vera will be there too." She did not turn back. There was a moment of silence behind her, followed by the man’s low reply. "Understood, Miss Vaughn." Rhea’s heart felt as if a needle had pricked it. As expected, the moment Vera was mentioned, every principle he had could be broken. No worries. Soon enough, she would personally send him to Vera’s side. The next morning, just as Rhea stepped out of the villa, she saw Wyatt already waiting by the car. The black suit outlined his broad shoulders and narrow waist perfectly. The morning light traced a faint golden edge along his cold, sharp profile. In the past, she would have deliberately teased him at moments like this. She would have pretended to twist an ankle and fall into his arms, or lean close to breathe softly by his ear. Today, she got into the car expressionlessly, not sparing him even a glance. Wyatt seemed surprised. He looked at her once more before quickly averting his gaze and sitting silently in the front passenger seat. The car headed toward The Halcyon Grand, where the auction was to be held. Rhea stared out the window the entire way, no longer finding excuses to talk to him as she used to. The interior was so quiet that they could hear each other breathing. The Halcyon Grand was the most prestigious hotel in the city center. Crystal chandeliers illuminated the hall like daylight. The air was filled with luxury and perfume, packed with elites and power players. The moment Rhea entered, she saw Vera standing ahead. Vera wore a white dress, her long black hair falling straight over her shoulders. She was chatting and laughing with a group of socialites, looking pure and harmless. Wyatt’s gaze changed instantly. Although he still stood behind Rhea in the role of bodyguard, she could feel that his attention had already been completely drawn away. "Rhea!" Vera spotted them and immediately trotted over, warmly linking arms with her. "What a coincidence. Are you here for the auction too?" Rhea pulled her arm away coldly. "Don't touch me." Vera’s eyes reddened at once. She looked at Wyatt with grievance. "Wyatt, I just wanted to be closer to my sister." Wyatt’s brows knit together. The look he gave Rhea carried restrained disgust. Vera seized the moment, tugging lightly at Wyatt’s sleeve. "Wyatt, I heard that when I had a fever last time and wanted fresh croissants, you went out in the middle of a rainstorm to buy them and brought them to the Vaughn house? I was really sick then, but now that I've recovered, I can tell you how grateful I am." The coldness in Wyatt’s features softened instantly. "Miss Vera, you are too polite. I was passing by." Passing by? Rhea sneered inwardly. He had disappeared for five hours that day and returned soaked from head to toe. That was his idea of passing by? "Then let me treat you to a meal!" Vera said sweetly. This time, Wyatt did not refuse. "Whatever you want." "Then let’s invite Rhea too!" Vera turned to Rhea, then suddenly looked surprised. "Huh? Rhea, why do you look so worn out? I was the one who got sick—" Rhea cut her off coldly. "We’re not close. Stay in your lane." Vera’s face changed instantly. Wyatt’s frown deepened further. At that moment, the auctioneer announced the start of the auction, finally breaking the awkward exchange. Rhea did not bother engaging further and took her seat directly. She was about to marry into the Ashfords. Expecting Victor to prepare a dowry for her was unrealistic. She would have to prepare these things herself. That was her true reason for attending this auction. Once seated, the first item was presented. It was a pigeon-blood ruby necklace. Starting bid: one million. Rhea raised her paddle without hesitation. "2 million." To her surprise, Vera raised her own paddle. "3 million." Rhea looked toward Vera. Vera smiled faintly at her. "Rhea, I like this one too. You won't mind letting me have it, right? After all, Dad seems to give you less allowance." Rhea laughed coldly. Less was an understatement. Since her childhood, Victor had given Vera a monthly stipend of $5 million. In contrast, Rhea received $500. If not for the inheritance her mother left behind, she might have starved long ago. That was no longer the case. She now had $10 billion. "4 million." Rhea raised her paddle again. Vera was clearly stunned, yet still gritted her teeth and increased the bid. "4.5 million." "5 million." "5.5 million." After several rounds, Vera’s face grew increasingly ugly. "Rhea, where did you get so much money? Aren’t you afraid you won't be able to pay?" "10 million!" Rhea doubled the bid outright. She then looked at Vera with a mocking smile. "Why do I feel like you're the one who cannot afford it now?" Vera’s face alternated between pale and flushed. Whispers began spreading among the surrounding guests. The auctioneer asked politely, "Miss Vera, would you like to increase the bid?" "Wait." Vera hurriedly pulled out her phone and messaged Victor. Moments later, her expression worsened further. She had clearly been refused. Seeing this, Rhea curved her lips. Of course, he would refuse. After handing over ten billion, where would he find extra money to save face for his precious Vera? At that awkward moment, a well-dressed man suddenly appeared at the center of the venue and announced loudly, "I'll outbid them all!" Chapter 3 The entire hall erupted. "Sir, are you saying…" the auctioneer asked in shock. The man explained calmly, "I am Master Wren’s assistant. Master Wren instructed us to place an unlimited bid on any lot she selects." The auction hall instantly exploded. "Master Wren? The Wren family’s only heir? The famous crown prince of Blackridge?" "Isn’t he known for keeping women at arm’s length? Why would he put in a blank check bid for Miss Vera?" "Looks like Miss Vera is about to rise straight to the top…" The murmurs rose and fell in waves. Vera’s expression shifted from shock to delight to undisguised triumph. "May I ask where Master Wren is?" she asked, her cheeks flushed. "Can I thank him in person?" The assistant replied respectfully, "Master Wren is not available to appear at the moment. When the time comes, he will naturally meet you." Only then did Vera turn to Rhea, her eyes brimming with victorious joy. "Rhea, are you still bidding?" The next second, she added in an innocent tone, "Oh, I almost forgot. Master Wren put in a blank check bid for me. If you keep bidding, won’t you end up bankrupt? After all, in this circle… who could possibly be richer than Master Wren?" Rhea’s expression changed sharply. She turned to look at Wyatt. He was gazing at Vera with unmistakable indulgence, his eyes filled with warmth. What followed felt like a ridiculous idol drama. Anything Vera lingered on for even a second, the assistant immediately put a bid in. The pigeon-blood ruby necklace. A priceless antique porcelain tea set. Even the Monet Water Lilies, with a starting price of $80 million. All of it went into Vera’s hands. Rhea suddenly stood up, unable to hold back any longer. "Does your master plan to leave nothing for anyone else?" The assistant glanced cautiously at Wyatt, who gave an almost imperceptible nod. "I’m sorry, Miss Vaughn," the assistant replied coldly. "These are all gifts from Master Wren to Miss Vera. His only wish is that Miss Vera enjoys today’s auction. Other people’s feelings are not within his considerations." Rhea laughed. Her nails bit deeply into her palm. She looked at Wyatt, yet his gaze never once left Vera, who was basking in the spotlight. 'Wyatt, well done. Truly well done.' After the auction ended, Vera was immediately surrounded by socialites and wealthy ladies, praised and fawned over like the center of the universe. Rhea could not stand the hypocrisy any longer. She turned and left the venue briskly. The moment she got into the car, she told the driver, "Nightfall Club." She needed alcohol to numb herself. Before the door even closed, Vera squeezed in. "Rhea, are you going to a club? I’ve been so bored lately. Take me with you!" Rhea was just about to kick her out when Wyatt quietly braced the car door and said to the driver, "Drive." The entire ride, Vera excitedly chattered about the auction. "Wyatt, why do you think Mr. Wren is so good to me? We’ve never even met!" Wyatt’s voice was unbelievably gentle. "Because he likes you." Vera’s eyes widened instantly, her cheeks flushing. "Wyatt, don’t joke like that!" "We men understand each other best." He looked at her with burning intensity. "Where the money goes, the affection follows. Besides… you are so good. It wouldn’t be strange for him to fall for you." "Then…" Vera asked suddenly, "Wyatt, do you like me too?" Wyatt froze. Just as he was about to speak, Rhea cut in coldly, "If you want to flirt, get out of my car. This is my vehicle." Vera’s eyes reddened instantly. "I’m sorry for disturbing, Rhea. I won’t talk anymore." Rhea ignored her and turned to look out the window. In the reflection of the glass, she clearly saw the way Wyatt looked at Vera—full of tenderness and pain. When he looked at Rhea, his gaze was icy and filled with disgust. She laughed at herself softly. It seemed all men only liked women who played innocent. Chapter 4 The club lights blurred into a haze as Rhea tipped back her head and downed her third glass of whiskey. The alcohol scorched her throat, yet it could not extinguish the resentment burning in her chest. At the center of the dance floor, she moved in slender heels, her red dress flaring with every turn. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Wyatt standing beside a private booth. He was supposed to be her bodyguard. Instead, he stayed glued to Vera’s side. She leaned in close, whispering something near his ear. Her lips nearly brushed his earlobe, and Wyatt, who was always ice-cold with Rhea, showed a faint flush at the tips of his ears. Rhea let out a quiet, mocking laugh. As she turned away, a group of spoiled rich boys closed in around her. "Care to drink with us, Miss Vaughn?" "Let’s exchange contacts." "I’ve wanted to meet you for a long time. Seeing you in person… your face really lives up to the rumors." They crowded her into a corner until she could not move. Refusing them only drew more men in, until someone’s hand slid boldly onto her waist. "Wyatt!" She finally snapped. Only then did Wyatt seem to notice her predicament. Frowning, he strode over and shoved through the crowd. The muscles in his arms stood out beneath his black suit. One sharp look was all it took for the young men to retreat in embarrassment. "Anyone watching would think you were her bodyguard," Rhea sneered, lifting a hand to wipe the spilled alcohol from her collarbone. Wyatt lowered his gaze. "Sorry. I didn't notice it." "Didn't notice it?" She suddenly leaned in, her red lips nearly brushing his jaw. "Or did you simply not want to?" Her scent closed in on him without warning. His throat bobbed once as he took half a step back. "You've had too much to drink." "Don't worry. Once I'm married off, you'll be able to protect Vera to your heart’s content—" Her words were swallowed by a sudden scream erupting from the stage. Staff wheeled out a massive iron cage. Inside, two adult Tibetan mastiffs paced restlessly. "Tonight’s special event!" the host shouted excitedly. "Black Whirlwind versus Crimson Blaze. Betting is now open!" Rhea frowned. Nightfall Club often staged bloody fight-betting shows like this, and she had always hated them. She was about to leave when the iron cage let out a strained creak. The lock loosened. Everything happened in an instant. The larger mastiff slammed into the cage door and burst free, lunging straight at the nearest crowd. Amid the screams, Rhea saw Wyatt spin around without hesitation. Almost instinctively, he rushed to Vera, wrapping her tightly in his arms and shoving her toward the emergency exit. Rhea stood frozen at the spot closest to the mastiff. She could clearly see the saliva clinging to its exposed fangs. "Ah—" The pain came without warning. When the mastiff’s teeth pierced the muscle of her calf, she vaguely heard the sound of fabric and flesh tearing together. A chunk of meat was ripped away. Blood sprayed as she collapsed to the floor, watching helplessly as the beast lunged at her again. Bang! The gunshot rattled her eardrums. The mastiff dropped instantly. The last thing she saw was Wyatt holding a gun, shielding Vera behind him, and the ceiling spinning as the lights went dark. The smell of disinfectant assaulted her nostrils. Rhea regained consciousness through the pain. The first thing she saw was a stark white ceiling. Her calf felt like it had been seared with a branding iron. Every breath tugged at the wound. She turned her head with effort. What she saw at the hospital room door struck her half-awake mind like another blow. Vera was buried in Wyatt’s arms, sobbing. "Wyatt, you are Rhea’s bodyguard. Why did you protect me instead? This is all my fault. I should never have come…" His well-defined hand patted her back gently, his voice impossibly soft. "Miss Vera, you don't need to blame yourself. "Even if it happened a hundred times over," he paused, brushing the tears from her cheek, "I would still choose to protect you first." "Why?" Vera looked up at him with tear-filled eyes. Wyatt met her gaze. Emotion darkened his deep-set features. "Because I—" Chapter 5 Crash! The sound of a glass shattering on the floor cut off Wyatt before he could finish speaking. Vera jolted like a startled rabbit, springing out of his arms. "Rhea, you’re awake!" She rushed to the hospital bed, tears spilling instantly. "How do you feel? Does it still hurt? This is all my fault—" Rhea tugged her pale lips into a cold smile. "With you being an eyesore here, how could I possibly get better?" Vera’s tears fell harder. Her shoulders trembled as if she had been grievously wronged. She bit her lip, cast Wyatt one last look, then turned and ran out of the room. Wyatt instinctively took a step after her, then forced himself to stop. He turned back to Rhea, his voice low. "Miss Vaughn, everything happened so fast that day. I did not have time to react—" Rhea said nothing. She only turned her head and looked out the window. She did not want to hear it. For three full days, Wyatt stood guard outside the hospital room like a model bodyguard. She did not say a single word to him. Not until the day she was discharged. Rhea walked on her still-unhealed leg straight into the study. She pulled open a redwood drawer and took out a black leather whip, glossy and cold. It was the Vaughns' inherited disciplinary tool. One strike was enough to split skin. "Go get Wyatt," she told the housekeeper, Dorothy Kline. When he entered the room, she was slowly wiping down the whip. Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting shadows beneath her lashes. "Wyatt," she said calmly, lifting her eyes to him. "You are my bodyguard. You failed to protect your principal. I am punishing you. You shall have no objections." As he stood where he was, his pupils tightened almost imperceptibly. Rhea saw it clearly. Blackridge’s so-called crown prince had probably never imagined that someone would dare enforce household discipline on him. After all, he was the Wren family’s only heir. People tripped over themselves to curry favor with him. Who would dare lay a finger on him? Yet here she was, about to whip him. Rhea studied his expression and suddenly laughed. He was hesitating. He could turn around and walk away. He could resign, yet he was hesitating. For Vera. To stay by her side. To keep getting closer to her. Her eyes burned, the laughter almost spilling into tears. Wyatt clenched his jaw. At last, he said quietly, "No objections." At that moment, Rhea’s heart seized violently. She gripped the whip and raised her arm. "Don't!" A slender figure suddenly threw herself forward, blocking him completely. Vera stood in front of Wyatt, tears filling her eyes, her voice shaking. "Rhea, if you want to hit someone, hit me. This has nothing to do with Wyatt!" "Move." Rhea’s voice was ice-cold. "I won't!" Vera shook her head, crying openly. "I'm the one who caused you to get hurt. If there must be punishment, punish me—" Wyatt reached out, trying to pull her aside. "Vera, this has nothing to do with you." She refused to move, stubbornly shielding him with her body. Rhea watched the scene, fury surging up as she lashed out. Crack! The whip split the air with a shrill snap. She had aimed for Wyatt, but Vera lunged forward instead, taking the strike for him. "Ah—!" Vera cried out. Her slight frame swayed, then collapsed. Wyatt caught her instantly, lowering his head to check her injuries. When he looked up again, Rhea met eyes colder than ice. There was killing intent in them, as if he might rush forward and snap her neck in the next second. Her body went rigid, plunging into an icy abyss. "Get out," she heard herself say, her voice trembling. Wyatt picked up the unconscious Vera and turned away. The study door slammed behind him with a deafening crash. Rhea stood there, realizing her hands were shaking so badly she could no longer hold the whip. Chapter 6 Three days later, Rhea went alone to try on wedding dresses. Night had already fallen when she stepped out of the boutique. Someone suddenly clamped a hand over her mouth and nose from behind. A sharp, chemical stench flooded her senses. She struggled, then her vision went dark. When she woke again, everything was black. Her eyes were covered, and her wrists were bound to a chair, leaving her completely unable to move. Crack. The first lash sent her arching forward in agony. The rough rope bit deep into her wrists, and the blindfold thickened the darkness. She bit through her lip to swallow the scream clawing up her throat. "You offended someone you should not have," the executioner’s voice sounded distant and hollow. Crack. Crack. Crack. The whip fell like rain. Each strike tore through the air, splitting skin and flesh. She clenched her teeth, refusing to cry out. Who? Who would do this to her? The beating went on for a long time. It only stopped once her consciousness began to blur. Then came the sound of a phone call being placed. "Master, I have carried out what you instructed," the man said respectfully. From the other end of the line came a familiar male voice. "Mmm. Send her back." Just that sentence. Rhea’s blood froze. It was Wyatt. Wyatt had ordered this. Because she had accidentally struck Vera once, he had paid her back with 99 lashes. Pain and cold swept through her. She could not hold on any longer and slipped into complete darkness. In the hospital, Rhea lay face down on the bed, the wounds on her back burning fiercely. Outside the door, nurses whispered. "That man is so handsome. He is so gentle with his girlfriend…" "Right? Just a small lash mark, and he is worried sick. Look at the patient in room 304. Covered in injuries and not a single visitor." Rhea ripped out her IV and braced herself against the wall, inching into the corridor. Sure enough, outside the VIP room, she saw Wyatt. He was holding a cup of water, carefully feeding Vera. Vera murmured something in a spoiled tone. Wyatt wiped the water from the corner of her mouth with his thumb, his gaze so tender it could melt steel. Rhea leaned slowly against the wall, her eyes stinging. She did not understand how, after deciding to let go, her heart could still hurt like this. It was like someone carving into her flesh with a dull blade. 'Don't cry, Rhea,' she told herself, because no one would feel sorry for her. On the day of her discharge, familiar footsteps sounded behind her the moment she arrived. Wyatt was back. They faced each other, each seeing something different reflected in the other’s eyes. They stood in silence until her phone suddenly vibrated. Victor’s name flashed on the screen. "Tomorrow is Vera’s birthday celebration." Victor's voice brooked no refusal. "She's been crying in front of me lately, saying she wants to mend things with you. Come and attend." Rhea sneered. "I'm not going." "What are you sulking about?" Victor’s tone sharpened. "This may be the last time. The Ashfords have already set the date. After you get married—" She hung up. Then she looked up at Wyatt, who stood in the shadows. "Do you think I should go?" The hard lines of his profile looked especially cold under the wall light. After a few seconds of silence, his voice came low. "You should." "Fine." She tugged at her lips. "Then I will do as you wish." The birthday party was held in the glass conservatory of the Vaughn family’s old estate. When Rhea arrived in a mossy green velvet gown, most of the guests were already there. Beneath the crystal chandeliers, Vera wore a pink tulle dress, surrounded like a true princess. "Rhea!" Vera greeted her with delight, moving to link arms. Rhea sidestepped, her gaze sweeping across the room full of gifts Victor had prepared. Limited-edition Hermes. Tiffany blue boxes. Even the keys to a Porsche. "Vera has always been sensible. I dote on her the most." Victor stood beside her with a face full of affection, just like years ago. Back then, he had stood beside Rhea and her mother the same way. She had worn a white dress. Her father had lifted her high into the air while her mother had smiled gently beside them. Now, everything had changed. After the cake was cut, guests gradually drifted off in small groups. One of Vera’s friends, Lydia Prescott, leaned in to gossip. "Vera, so many heirs from prominent families came tonight. Is Mr. Vaughn planning to set you up? I heard you are already engaged to the Ashfords." Vera smiled faintly and glanced meaningfully toward Rhea in the distance. "That was called off long ago." "That is good, very good. I heard that the man ended up in a coma. Marrying him would mean being stuck in a marriage with a man who might as well be dead." Lydia wiggled her brows. "There are so many men here tonight. Come on, what is your type?" Amid the teasing, Vera blushed and began counting on her fingers. "First, he has to love me deeply. Deep enough to tattoo my name over his heart. "Second, he has to be brave. I heard that on Moonwatch Cliff, there is a briar rose bush. He must pick a stalk for me. "Third—" Before she could finish, the doors of the hall were suddenly pushed open. "Mr. Wren sends his regards and presents these gifts in honor of Miss Vera’s birthday. May she be well and happy." Chapter 7 The assistant, Evan Cole, led a group of people inside in orderly succession, each carrying gifts of staggering value. A rare pink Padparadscha sapphire necklace. An antique master painting. Even the deed to a private island. The room exploded. "These… these are from Master Wren?" "I heard that at the auction, he placed an open-ended bid for Miss Vera. Now he’s personally sending gifts? Looks like Miss Vera is about to rise for real." Whispers rippled through the crowd. More than a few people cast furtive glances at Rhea, their eyes filled with pity. She was clearly more beautiful, and her lineage was unquestionable. Yet now, everyone believed she had already lost. Rhea set her glass down and turned toward the terrace. The night breeze was cool. She had just taken a breath when Vera’s voice sounded behind her. "Why are you out here all alone, Rhea?" With no guests or father around, Vera finally dropped the act. "Did you know?" she said sweetly, venom laced beneath every word. "Dad told me. You’re marrying that man in a coma." She smiled, soft and cruel. "How pathetic. Back then, your mother couldn’t compete with mine. Now, neither can you." Rhea spun around. "Say that again." "I said…" Vera stepped closer, red lips forming poisonous words, "your mother deserved to die in childbirth. She—" Smack. A sharp slap rang out. Rhea was not the one who struck. Vera had slapped herself. The next second, tears poured out on cue. She staggered back several steps, collapsing perfectly into Wyatt’s arms as he rushed over. "It’s not Rhea’s fault," Vera sobbed, clutching her cheek. "I made her angry…" Moments later, Victor and the guests arrived as well. Accusatory looks shot toward Rhea like arrows. "Rhea!" Victor barked. "Have you no sense of decency?" The whispers from the guests cut even deeper. "How vicious. Today is Miss Vera’s birthday, too…" "No wonder. Her mother died early. She was raised without a mother. That’s why her heart is so cold." Rhea looked at the carefully staged farce and suddenly laughed. She strode forward and, in full view of everyone, slapped Vera hard across the face. Then she smashed her champagne glass to the ground. Shards reflected countless stunned faces. "Look closely," she said coldly. "This is what it looks like when I actually hit someone." As she turned to leave, she caught sight of Wyatt’s arm wrapped around Vera’s shoulders, his gaze colder than ice. Rhea had barely reached the corner of the garden path when her wrist was seized violently. The force was so crushing that she felt as if her bones might shatter. "Miss Vaughn." His voice was low, fury pressed tight beneath it. "What?" She lifted her eyes in mockery. "I slapped her once. Are you going to return the favor with 99 slaps?" Wyatt’s eyes narrowed. What did she mean by that? Could it be that she knew about last time? Impossible. He had been careful. "Miss Vaughn," he loosened his grip slightly, his brows drawn tight, "you already have everything. Why do you still need to bully her?" "I have everything?" Rhea laughed hoarsely, the sound tearing like a sob. "What do I have? "The moment she arrived, she angered my mother into premature labor. One body, two lives destroyed. She moved in and took my room, my toys, my allowance, my father. Even my place to study abroad. Everything I had." It was the first time Wyatt had ever heard her say so much. Under the moonlight, Rhea's eyes that were usually sharp with mockery brimmed with tears, stubbornly refusing to fall. "I heard," Wyatt said coldly, "that Vera is the one who had it worse." Rhea flung his hand away and turned to leave. "Believe whatever you want." Just before getting into the car, Wyatt spoke again. "Miss Vaughn, I would like to take a few days off." "Do as you like." She shut the door without looking back. After the black sedan drove a short distance, Rhea suddenly spoke to Thomas Reed, the driver, "Turn around." They returned to the vicinity of the Vaughn estate. Sure enough, she saw Wyatt get into a Rolls-Royce. She instructed Thomas to follow at a distance. The car finally stopped outside an upscale tattoo studio. Through the glass window, she watched Wyatt unbutton his shirt, revealing his solid, sculpted chest. The tattoo artist asked him something. Wyatt pointed to his heart and said two words. From the shape of his lips, it was unmistakable. "Vera." Chapter 8 Evan tried to stop him. "Master Wren, if the old man finds out, he’ll lose his temper—" "Ink it." With that instruction, the tattoo needle buzzed, each strike feeling like it was carving a bloody hole straight into Rhea’s heart. Two hours later, Wyatt came out clutching his chest, blood seeping through the bandage. His face was pale, yet he still insisted on getting into the car. "Moonwatch Cliff," he told the driver. "No. That place is too dangerous. You just got a tattoo—" "Now." Rhea sat in her car and suddenly remembered Vera’s list of standards. "He has to tattoo my name over his heart. There’s a briar rose bush on Moonwatch Cliff. He has to pick a stalk for me." She laughed. She chuckled until tears spilled down her face. "Let’s go," she told Thomas. "Stop following them." That night, she scrolled through Vera’s social feed. A photo of a briar rose blooming on the edge of a cliff. The caption read: "Someone crossed mountains and ravines just to pick a single flower for me." At three in the morning, Wyatt came back. His body was covered in blood. His right hand was fractured. Nevertheless, the corner of his mouth curved upward, carrying a faint trace of a smile. The next morning, Rhea was just about to leave when Wyatt stepped out of his room. His face was pale, and his right arm was wrapped in a cast. The collar of his shirt hung slightly open. "Miss Vaughn," his voice was hoarse. "I was in a minor car accident last night. I need a few more days of rest. I won’t be able to protect you for the time being." A car accident? He had clearly fallen while climbing a cliff. She did not expose the lie. She only gave a flat grunt and walked straight out. Today was her farewell with her friends. In a VIP room at the high-end private Nightfall Club, Lydia slung an arm around Rhea’s shoulders. "Come on, tonight we drink till we drop! Our Miss Vaughn is getting married soon. Soon you’ll be Mrs. Ashford. We have to celebrate properly!" The room was full, packed with the people closest to her over the years. The champagne tower glittered under the lights, and the music throbbed loudly. Yet Rhea felt an eerie stillness. "If you ask me, a husband in a coma isn’t bad at all!" Lydia swayed her glass drunkenly. "Rich, handsome, and you don’t even have to deal with him. That’s the perfect marriage!" "Exactly!" Maya Whitfield chimed in. "The Ashfords have such a massive empire. It’ll all be yours eventually!" Rhea smiled faintly, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass. "Once I’m married, I’ll need to behave myself. At least give the Ashfords some face." The group froze for a beat, then rushed to correct themselves. "Mr. Ashford will definitely wake up!" "With you looking like this, how could he stay asleep forever?" "Right! Rhea, you're the most beautiful woman in the circle. No way you’d live like a widow!" Rhea listened to their nonsense with a smile, drinking one glass after another. When it came time to say goodbye, Lydia suddenly pulled her into a tight hug, her voice breaking. "Your father is a piece of work… and that Vera girl… Want us to teach her a lesson?" "No need." Rhea patted her back gently. "Once I’m gone, none of this will have anything to do with me." She hugged each of them in turn until everyone’s eyes were red. After settling the bill, Rhea passed the neighboring private room. A familiar conversation drifted out. "Was that flower really that hard to pick?" "You bet. Moonwatch Cliff is so dangerous that even professional climbing teams wouldn’t dare go there lightly." Through the half-open door, Rhea saw Vera idly turning the briar rose in her hands. Sienna Caldwell leaned in, eyes bright with gossip. "Then he really risked his life to get it. When he delivered the flower yesterday, I think I even saw your name tattooed over his heart. He’s really planning to chase you, huh? "He's just a bodyguard. Does he even deserve it? "I’m someone the crown prince of the Wren family has his eye on now." She brushed her fingers over the torn petals. "Though Wyatt does look quite good. Keeping him as a lover once in a while wouldn’t be a loss."