Chapter 1

"My uncle has a girlfriend, Beth!" Bethany Porter woke up to the sharp scent of disinfectant lingering in the air. She had just undergone an appendectomy. Before being wheeled into surgery, she had sent a message to her boyfriend, Noah Vazquez. Yet, she still hadn't received a reply. Just then, she received a call from her best friend, Holly Vazquez. Bethany's fingers tightened around her phone, the color draining slightly from her knuckles. Guilt seeped into her voice as she asked, "You've heard?" "Huh? Were you aware of it as well?" Holly paused before realization dawned on her. "How could I forget? You're my uncle's secretary. Of course you'd know! "Still, I didn't see this coming. He's been single for many years. Turns out, he was waiting for her all along." Her? Bethany's breath hitched. "But I seriously can't stand Ella," Holly grumbled. "She's so dramatic and fake, and she always talks in that high-pitched voice. I have no idea what my uncle sees in her." Bethany was worried that her secret would be exposed, but when she heard that, she realized that the girlfriend Holly was talking about wasn't her. The wound in her lower abdomen throbbed painfully. Biting her lip, she asked through her pain, "Are you sure you didn't get it wrong, Hols?" Before Noah went abroad, he had slept with Bethany in his arms every night. So how could he have fallen so easily for someone else? Holly clicked her tongue. "I didn't get it wrong. Here, let me video call you." The call ended without warning, abruptly switching to video. "The one in the pink ski suit is Ella, Beth. The one in black is my uncle. "Look at how lovey-dovey they are. My uncle is warming her hands and eating her face right in front of me. I'm going to throw up!" The camera was far away, but Bethany recognized Noah at a glance. Noah had promised her that he would make their relationship public when she turned 25. Her birthday was only five days away. Instead of receiving the acknowledgement she was promised, she witnessed Noah with the woman he truly loved at her most vulnerable moment. Right then, a nurse walked in and took a look at the chart in her hand. "It's time to change your dressing." "Huh. Beth, are you in the hospital?" Holly asked. Bethany swallowed the lump in her throat. "No. I'm visiting someone. I have to go, Hols. Let's talk later." "Oh, alright. I'll text you!" Bethany's phone buzzed. Instinctively, she tightened her grip and unlocked the screen, only to see another message from Holly. "I thought my uncle was into men, Beth. Who knew he'd fall for such a cutesy, clingy woman? I swear, she kind of looks like you." Bethany had heard that sentence countless times before. She and Ella Reid weren't related by blood. After her father, Jack Porter, passed away, her mother married into the Reid family, and Ella became her stepsister. Bethany closed her eyes for a moment, exited the chat, and noticed a notification pop up from Instagram. It was a post from Ella. "Teehee, my personal trainer!" Attached was the picture that she and Noah had just taken together. Bethany had been in a clandestine relationship with Noah for three years. No matter how much she begged, he had never agreed to post a single photo of them. It hit her then that he was fine being seen, just not with her. Noah wasn't looking at the camera when the picture was taken. Instead, he gazed down at Ella with unmistakable tenderness, her reflection filling his eyes. Within seconds, a new comment appeared below the post. NV: "My princess." Bethany's nails dug into her palm as she tapped on the familiar profile, as if she were punishing herself. It was his Instagram, as she had expected. Valentine's Day, Christmas, New Year's… Every time he said he was working overtime, on a business trip, or at a social event, he had been with Ella. Each word on the screen felt like a dense cluster of needles piercing into her chest. The cold seeped into her bones, leaving her unable to breathe. In a heartbeat, a metallic tang filled her mouth. Why did it have to be Ella? Bethany had never gotten along with her stepsister, and Noah had been well aware of their history. Bethany wondered whether she had been nothing more than Ella's substitute when Noah was with her. She didn't want to dwell on that train of thought. Thus, she picked up her phone and texted her mother, Diana Reeves. "I'll go on the blind date, Mom." Diana, who was usually cold toward her, replied almost instantly. "I'm glad you've come to your senses. I've sent you the address. Private room 1012. Remember to be agreeable, alright?" A wry smile curled at Bethany's lips. Diana sure was eager to sell her off for a good price. After finishing her IV, she raised her hand, hailed a cab, and headed to the restaurant. … Diana would never set Bethany up with someone decent. Bethany's blind date was Cyrus Brannon, an infamous playboy who went through women faster than he went through clothes. Ever since she remarried, Diana had been kind only to Ella. Bethany had long grown used to her mother's favoritism. Bethany took a deep breath and pushed open the door to the private room. Her almond-shaped eyes narrowed slightly. The man wore a flamboyant burgundy suit that made him stand out in a crowd. He held a glass of wine in one hand and had his other tucked into his pocket. His posture was relaxed, almost lazy. When he heard the door creak open, he lifted his gaze. His eyes were dangerously captivating. "Mr. Brannon?" Bethany had to admit that the heir of the Brannon family possessed a flawless face. He had the looks to play the field, and he clearly did. The private room was filled with both men and women. It seemed that he truly didn't discriminate. The man cocked his brow. "You are…" "May I have a word with you?" Bethany asked. The man set his wineglass down and motioned for the others to leave. Silence settled in the private room in no time. Bethany pressed her lips together and walked up to him. "I'm Bethany Porter. I'm here for the blind date. If you like what you see, we can skip ahead straight to marriage." Noah's heartlessness had stripped away her illusions about men. It didn't matter who she married. She now believed that it was just a partnership to get through life. The man's lips curled slightly. His lazy, indifferent voice reached her ear. "Marriage?" Bethany composed herself. "Of course. Since this is an alliance between our families, marriage is the end goal. You can do whatever you want on the outside, but I won't be responsible for any illegitimate children you have. At most, I won't mistreat them. "Ideally, I'd like our marriage to last a year. I'll play the role of your wife, and when the year is up, we'll go our separate ways. Don't worry. Since it's only in name, I won't take a single cent from your family. "If you want, we can sign a prenup. And if you're okay with this arrangement, we can put everything in writing. How does that sound?" Bethany believed that she had shown more than enough sincerity. For a notorious playboy like him, having a virtuous wife as a shield would only benefit him. Yet, his gaze was deep and unreadable, like the deep sea on a winter night. The way he studied her made her chest tighten. "Alright," he drawled. Then, he changed his tune. "It's still early. Why don't we go register our marriage now?"