Chapter 2

On our wedding night, I looked at Leo Sterling’s face, still as sharply chiseled as ever.

He bore no resemblance to Julian Knight at all—one was reserved and composed, the other bright and cheerful.

Despite a sixteen-year age gap, who would have thought they were adopted father and son?

I sighed and reached out, covering Leo’s clear, innocent eyes.

“You’re such a fool. Why did you come looking for me? If I needed money, I would have come back myself.”

Back then, I had just returned to college, and Leo had been instantly smitten.

If Julian was a seasoned player in the game of love, Leo was like a clumsy newcomer.

He had cautiously shown me affection, awkwardly pursuing me.

I only had to crook my finger, and the boy would rush to me impatiently.

But I was a bad woman. My conscience had long been lost on the path I’d taken to get here.

I truly only saw Leo as a pawn to be used.

Watching Leo in his vacant, simple state, I closed my eyes.

Then, I kicked him onto the floor.

With a thud, Leo hit his head and fell unconscious.

In the next room, the sounds of a man and woman making love paused for a moment.

Then, the rhythm grew even more intense.

I turned off the lights, a bitter ache in my heart. Julian’s first love was back.

Tonight was my wedding night with Leo, and it was Julian’s reunion with his ‘white moonlight.’

Earlier today, the moment I stepped through the doors of the Knight estate, they looked at each other.

Celeste took the suit jacket from Julian’s hand.

Even seeing me, she merely raised a delicate eyebrow, not asking a single question.

Julian, however, gently put his arm around her and explained:

“This is Leo Sterling’s new wife, Sera Thorne.”

Celeste smiled and greeted me, perfectly poised and gracious:

“I’m Celeste. We’re not that far apart in age, so feel free to call me ‘Celeste’ if you’d like.”

Celeste’s voice was soft, her manner refined and graceful. She stood beside Julian, perfectly matched.

I had thought I wouldn’t feel pained by being a “substitute.”

But the moment I saw the real deal, I understood.

That year abroad, I hadn’t forgotten the pain; I’d just been too busy to dwell on it.

Now that I was back, I realized it still hurt.

I forced a bitter laugh. Leo’s incoherent murmurs drifted from the floor. I reached out and tossed a blanket over him.

Then, I turned and went to sleep, but in my dreams, it was still Julian.

What truly made me fall for Julian wasn’t his lavish spoiling, but his sheer gentleness.

In my world, which was tattered and stained with ugliness, Julian seemed like a gift from the heavens.

Our most intimate gesture was a simple hug.

For three whole years, I finally decided to take the initiative.

I’d plied Julian with warming wine, but he would rather take a cold shower than touch me.

I couldn’t understand why, until I saw his wallet fall from his suit pocket.

An old, yellowed photograph slipped out.

I picked it up with trembling hands.

The woman in the photo looked seven parts like me.

That’s when I understood. Fate had always disfavored me. This was poison disguised as sweet nectar.

But I still believed Julian cared for me, so I’d acted out of spite, getting together with Leo.

I hadn’t known they were adopted father and son. It had all gone horribly wrong.