Chapter 1

The side door of the banquet hall opened, and a young woman walked in. She was exceptionally beautiful, a goose-yellow gown complementing her snow-white skin, her straight, jet-black hair falling around her shoulders. When she smiled, her eyes curved like crescent moons. She was Liam Sullivan's fiancée, Maya. Maya politely greeted our group of "old acquaintances," her voice clear and sweet, before naturally walking to the head table and sitting down beside Liam. But Liam's gaze never once fell upon his lovely fiancée. Across several tables, he stared intently at me, his deep eyes like a frozen lake's surface, obscuring the churning emotions beneath. In the last two years, I'd found some peace. Unlike the earlier years, when merely associating our names would ignite a storm of gossip. I stood up, wanting to escape his scorching gaze. But the person beside me instinctively blocked my path. "Evelyn, you're not…" "Don't tell me you're planning to make a scene?" someone joked half-heartedly, their tone laced with tension. I raised an eyebrow, twirling the stem of my wine glass with my fingertips. "Just heading to the restroom. What, afraid I'll wreck this engagement party?" "Just kidding! Please, go ahead!" As I turned to leave, hushed discussions reached my ears. "Has it only been two years? Evelyn seems genuinely calmer, much more composed." "My heart was in my throat just now. I was really afraid she'd grab a bottle and charge up there like in the old days…" "Alright, since she doesn't mean to, let the security outside stand down. No need for such tension." A faint smile touched my lips. From the corner of my eye, I indeed spotted two rows of black-clad bodyguards outside the banquet hall. Seeing me emerge, they all tensed, hands moving toward their backs. The leader received an instruction, and soon, the group silently retreated into the shadows. They would probably never know that all this—the meticulously arranged venue, the tight security, the protective circle—had once, exactly as it was, belonged to me. Even this engagement party. We, too, had once exchanged rings for each other, had blushed amidst the teasing of friends and family, had promised that once his career stabilized, at twenty-eight, we would turn all the "almosts" into "perfectlys." That day, years ago, the sunlight was as warm as it is now. The light in his eyes when he got down on one knee had a fleeting, haunting resemblance to the look in that man's eyes as he gazed at his new love on the stage. I didn't head to the restroom but slipped into a quiet corner behind the terrace to rest. At the same time, Liam's interview was moved to the terrace outside the banquet hall. The sound system carried his voice clearly inside. "Yes, I saw her today." His tone was flat, as if discussing an insignificant object. "Her eyes are still so bright." After a slight pause, the corners of his lips suddenly curved upwards, his eyes churning with a chilling smile. "If I had the chance, I'd really like to personally dig those eyes out and give them to Maya as a wedding gift." A reporter pressed further, "Did you ever take revenge on her back then?" "Revenge?" Liam chuckled lightly, idly twisting the ring on his finger. "Not giving her mother the medical treatment money, does that count?" The air outside the terrace instantly froze. The whispers inside the banquet hall also ceased abruptly. All eyes, subtle or not, drifted toward me, carrying scrutiny, sympathy, or the playful glee of spectators. I simply picked up the red wine glass in front of me and gently swirled it. The wine traced dark red arcs against the crystal, the faint, astringent scent of oak wafting into my nostrils. I took a small sip, the tip of my tongue pressing against the sour aftertaste, not a single ripple showing on my face. Perhaps my calmness exceeded his expectations. On the terrace, Liam noticeably hesitated. Through the glass door, I could see a flicker of displeasure in his eyes. It was the frustration of a hunter who had carefully set a trap, only to find the prey hadn't fallen for it at all. After all these years of rivalry, I understood his mind games all too well.