1.Chapter 1 An Arranged Marriage

Gwyneth Jenkins stood by the floor-to-ceiling window in her silk robe, staring out at the starlight. After a long moment, she finally called home. “I’ll go through with the arranged marriage.”

There was a short silence, then her father, Quentin’s excited voice came through the line. “Gwennie, when are you coming back? I’ll pick you up.”

The childhood nickname made Gwyneth’s nose sting. “Next Monday,” she whispered and hung up.

Ever since Peyton, her mom, died, Quentin had moved his mistress, Diana, and her daughter, Melanie, into the house. Gwyneth hated them both, and she wasn’t about to let them take over her mom’s company.

For Zachary Flynn’s sake, she had tried to handle things delicately. But now, she would reclaim what was rightfully hers—no holds barred.

Thinking of Zachary, she felt a sudden, stabbing ache. Her mind drifted back to 8:30 PM.

At that moment, Gwyneth had just set the dinner she’d carefully prepared on the table. Zachary’s text suddenly buzzed in: [Work emergency. Don’t wait up.]

She stared at her phone, completely numb. Today was her 23rd birthday—and their fifth anniversary. Since six o’clock, she’d been trying to reach Zachary, calling and texting non-stop.

But there were no real answers—just quick, dismissive texts: [Busy.] Her WhatsApp chat looked like a monologue, her messages stretching down the screen with zero response.

[I ordered tomahawk steak.]

[Got roses and lilies.]

[The red wine’s your favorite. I picked it up from the vineyard this afternoon.]

[I’ve made some gardenia candles. Thought they’d be nice for us tonight.]

For thirteen straight years, Zachary had never missed Gwyneth’s birthday. Refusing to give up, she dialed his number again—only to hear it go straight to voicemail.

As she checked the timestamp of Zachary’s last message, a notification from a special contact popped up: [Vincent’s concert tonight—I’ve waited forever for this!]

Below was a photo, showing a man’s and woman’s arms pressed close together. Under the dim light, a diamond cufflink with a gardenia design stood out—Zachary’s favorite pattern. It was custom-made by Gwyneth, the only one of its kind in all of Galvocity.

Gwyneth gripped her phone, zooming in and out on the photo until her eyes ached. She flung the phone onto the table, gasping for air like a fish out of water.

She’d bought tickets the day Vincent announced his national tour, telling Zachary it was the only birthday gift she wanted. He’d promised to go with her, then canceled at the last minute. Now, on her birthday, he’d blown her off to take Bella Emerson instead.

Gwyneth felt the pain in her chest spread like wildfire. She covered her face with trembling hands, too drained to keep lying to herself.

She’d been sickly as a kid. At ten, she moved from Joracity to Galvocity for better health and met Zachary, two years her senior. Because of him, even after she got healthier, she never wanted to go back to Joracity.

He had looked out for her and spoiled her from junior high through college. On her eighteenth birthday, he’d dramatically confessed his love—showing up with gorgeous flowers, swearing he’d only cherish her.

When did it all start falling apart? Gwyneth figured it might be the day she’d introduced Bella to Zachary.

The innocent girl in a white dress clung to Gwyneth’s arm, offering Zachary a bashful smile. “Zachary,” she said softly, “I’m the student Ms. Jenkins is sponsoring.”

Like a delicate lily clinging to a rocky ledge, Bella’d effortlessly triggered Zachary’s protective streak. From that moment on, Zachary had almost always chosen Bella over Gwyneth.

Gwyneth had confronted him. He’d just frown, eyes full of disappointment. “Bella’s health is fragile. She can’t compare to you. Stop picking on her.”

‘So being sick gives her a free pass to steal my boyfriend?’ Gwyneth had thought, furious.

Suddenly, the phone buzzed on the table, snapping Gwyneth back to reality. She picked it up and instantly, three messages popped up.

[Vincent’s violin is insane. Zachary handled everything—he’s taking me backstage to meet Vincent after the show.]

[Oh, today is your birthday, right? I kept telling Zachary to go home, but he stayed to make sure I ate. You called so much that he got annoyed and turned his phone off.]

[This is from Zachary. What do you think, Ms. Jenkins? Does it match my dress?]

The last message came with an attached photo of a sparkly multicolor diamond bracelet from the latest luxury collection—exclusively available for pre-order clients.

Gwyneth had mentioned loving it when the campaign ads came out. Zachary had bought it, but not for her.

Gwyneth set her phone down quietly. She lit the gardenia candles, spent her birthday alone, and tossed all the leftovers—even the cake she’d spent two weeks perfecting.

Thirteen years had tangled her life with Zachary’s. Unraveling their history—emotional and practical—needed time. So, she was set to leave next week.

*****

Half-asleep, Gwyneth felt someone sit on the bed. Cool fingers brushed her cheek, pinching gently.

Zachary’s smoky voice wrapped around her like always. “Gwennie, sorry I’m late. Happy birthday. Wanna see your present?”

Gwyneth woke with a frown, blinking blearily.

Zachary had shed his suit jacket, wearing a black shirt that clung to his chest. Dim light sharpened his features but softened his expression, making him painfully handsome. His eyes drew her in, dangerous as ever.

Gwyneth sat up, watching him open the box. Inside, a multicolor diamond bracelet shimmered.

“Didn’t you say you wanted this? Let me help you put it on,” Zachary said gently.

But just as he reached for the bracelet, his phone rang. He tossed the box on the bed and stood to answer. “You fell? Are you hurt? Don’t cry. I’m coming.”

He rushed out, so worried that he didn’t even take a moment to sit back down and explain.

“Zachary…” Gwyneth called, lifting her head.

The door clicked shut, and he never turned around.

Minutes later, Bella’s text popped up, just as Gwyneth had expected.

[Have you put on the bracelet, Ms. Jenkins? You should take it. I bugged Zachary for ages to give it to you. He felt bad ’cause I was being so chill—after the concert, he took me to get my own.]

[I love what this design stands for—”those who are loved stay happy forever.”]

It was the brand’s most iconic couple bracelet. The year Zachary started his company, he’d shown Gwyneth that exact design.

Back then, the company was strapped for cash. Several projects were hanging by a thread until she sold two ceramic pieces her mother had left her to cover the funding gap—she didn’t want Zachary to shoulder the burden alone.

But after his company took off, he never once offered to buy the bracelet for her. After project payments came in, she tried tracking down those ceramics, only to find they’d been sold to a mystery buyer at a premium—gone forever.

*****

Zachary never came home that night.

The next morning, as Gwyneth picked at breakfast, her phone buzzed again. Another text from Bella.