Before dusk, she was his companion. After dark, she was his plaything—a woman he kept hidden, a name he never spoke aloud. Ottilie spent five years in the entertainment industry, guarding her reputation like a fortress. She did everything right, stayed clean, stayed quiet, and stayed out of trouble. Yet somehow, she became the industry's most hated figure—accused of seducing co-stars, bullying actresses, and sleeping with directors for roles. Every headline was a lie, and every scandal was a carefully placed knife. She didn't learn the truth until it was too late: Yorath needed her reputation destroyed so his precious darling could rise from the ashes of hers. Ottilie had fallen for him at first sight and loved him without reservation for five years, believing that one day he would marry her. She gave him everything she had, and he gave her nothing in return. When she finally clashed with the woman he truly wanted, Yorath made his choice and had her committed to a psychiatric hospital for three years. They said she was mad and needed help. She went in sane—and came out exactly what they had always called her. When Yorath saw her again, he fell to his knees, begging and weeping, promising her the world. She looked at him like a stranger passing on the street and said, "I loved you once, but now I don't even remember why."

Chapter 1Ottilie Sewell had been treated at St. Dymphna's Psychiatric Facility for three years before her attending physician unilaterally declared her cured and discharged her.She stood at the entrance of the hospital, facing the blank brick wall.In her mind, she reached into her chest, ripped out her own heart, and smeared it against the concrete. From this moment on, she was a woman without a heart.During Ottilie's first meal back home, not a single dish on the dining table was something she liked.Her brother, Shawn Sewell, gorged himself, grease gleaming on his mouth as he devoured the food.Her father, James Sewell, asked, "Are you still in touch with Yorath Fordham?""No," Ottilie replied without even lifting her head.James let out a disappointed grunt. "Your mother and I set up a blind date for you with a public school teacher. We've negotiated a two hundred-thousand-dollar settlement to help pay for Shawn's wedding. You're meeting him at the restaurant tomorrow. Don't screw this up, or else..."Ottilie's birth had been an accident, one that ended up costing James his cushy corporate job. Coupled with a family dynamic that heavily favored sons, she had always been the household's burden and punching bag. A minor offense meant a severe beating; a major one meant being locked out of the house for a month, forced to dig through trash just to survive."Okay," Ottilie agreed obediently, instantly drawing suspicious glares from the rest of the table.She was notoriously stubborn; if she didn't want to do something, she wouldn't bend even if it killed her. James had been fully prepared to drag her to City Hall in zip ties.For the rest of the meal, the family ate in total silence.No one cared why she had been convicted of attempted murder three years ago.No one asked why she was later deemed legally insane, or whether she had suffered during her time at St. Dymphna's Psychiatric Facility.Then again, she didn't need anyone's pity....The next day.Ottilie carried a basket of organic farm-fresh eggs to the restaurant entrance, waiting for her blind date. Her mother had forcefully shoved the eggs into her hands, insisting she give them to her date to take home to his mother.She hadn't been waiting long when a fleet of luxury cars pulled up to the curb.The valets jogged over immediately to assist.A group of elites in sharp tailored suits flanked a tall, strikingly handsome man as they approached.Even after three years, picking Yorath out of a crowd was as effortless for Ottilie as finding a gleaming pearl in a pile of sand.Yorath Fordham, the second son of a staggeringly wealthy dynasty. Back in college, he had already participated in legislative revisions as a legal scholar. At twenty-five, he shot to international fame after winning a massive corporate trademark case.He now owned the top law firm in the country. He was hailed as the undefeated king of the legal world.Three years ago, Ottilie had a severe conflict with Nyssa Tarrant, the daughter of Yorath's mentor.Acting as Nyssa's attorney, Yorath was the one who ruthlessly locked Ottilie away in the psychiatric facility.To outsiders, he was the picture of refined, aristocratic elegance. Only Ottilie knew exactly how feral and twisted this universally admired golden boy became once the clothes came off.He had claimed and devoured every single inch of her body!Like an insatiable, ravenous wolf.Ottilie stepped to the side, clearing the path to the restaurant doors.The entourage ascended the steps, about to head inside, when one of them suddenly glanced in her direction."Well, well! Ms. Sewell, it's been a while."Yorath, leading the pack, halted. The entire group stopped in their tracks and turned their eyes toward Ottilie.She offered a polite, distant smile to the man who had called out. "Hello, Mr. Crawford."Jevon Crawford closed the distance with long strides, his gaze dropping to the basket of eggs in her hand. "Hahaha... All these years later, and you're still bringing your absolute best to offer Yorath. I'm almost jealous."People with high social intelligence always knew how to make a remark sound charming. In the past, Ottilie wouldn't have caught the underlying sarcasm; she would have been genuinely thrilled by the compliment.It was only after being degraded, crushed, and universally despised that she finally understood. He was actually mocking her for being pathetic, offering up cheap, worthless items that no one wanted.Maintaining her composure, Ottilie replied smoothly, "I wouldn't dare present something so unrefined to Mr. Fordham. These are a gift for a friend."Jevon clearly didn't buy it. He reached out and gave her shoulder a careless, heavy pat.He turned back to Yorath. "Hahaha, look at this, Yorath. Ms. Sewell hasn't changed one bit. Still talking tough but totally soft on the inside. Isn't she adorable?"Yorath cast a fleeting, glacial glance at Ottilie, then walked into the restaurant without looking back.The rest of his entourage quickly followed.In the past, Ottilie would have eagerly trailed right behind them like a desperate puppy. She would have bragged about how these eggs were farm-raised and delicious, practically begging Yorath to take them home.Today, she didn't even spare him a second glance, opting to stand dutifully by the entrance, waiting for her date....About ten minutes later.A modest Nissan Leaf pulled up to the restaurant. A young man wearing glasses and a crisp white button-down stepped out and hurried toward her."Ms. Sewell, I'm so sorry. Traffic was terrible, and I'm late."This was her blind date, Yves Walden.Ottilie smiled warmly. "You're not late; I was just early. My mother wanted me to bring these for your parents."She handed the basket of eggs to Yves.He accepted it, his fingers lightly brushing the shells as a genuine smile touched his lips."These are wonderful. Farm-fresh, organic, and incredibly healthy. My mother will absolutely love them."He carefully placed the basket in his trunk.Their reserved table was right in the middle of the main dining room, visible to anyone walking in or out.After they ordered, Yves cleared his throat. "Let me properly introduce myself. I'm thirty-one, a middle school teacher making a decent living. Both my family and I are hoping I can settle down and start a family soon. When I saw your picture, I was immediately drawn to you. I'm very interested in building a life together."Ottilie replied calmly, "I appreciate the flattering words, Mr. Walden, but I'm not a good person. Marrying me would ruin your career and cast a dark shadow over any future children.""I spent five years working in the entertainment industry and was kept by a sugar daddy. After that, I was convicted of attempted murder and spent three years locked up in St. Dymphna's Psychiatric Facility. On top of all that, my parents are demanding a two hundred-thousand-dollar payout to marry me off."Of course, before she left the house, her parents had explicitly warned her never to mention any of this. Their logic was that once they were married and the money was transferred, it wouldn't matter what he knew. As long as she refused to sign divorce papers and dragged out the legal battle, eventually they wouldn't have to return a dime of the settlement.Unfortunately for them, Ottilie had no intention of playing along. She fully expected Yves to run for the hills after hearing the ugly truth.But to her surprise, he just offered a gentle smile."I know about your past. I used to be a huge fan of your work. To me, the trials you've faced are your greatest asset. You're gentle, blindingly honest, and you know what it means to care for someone. If you hadn't been through everything you have, why would you ever be sitting across from me on a date? I wouldn't even be in your league."Ottilie had heard plenty of hypocritical, sycophantic flattery in her life, but this was the first time someone had praised her with such raw, unfiltered sincerity.It almost sounded real.She fell silent, making Yves worry he had come on too strong and frightened her. He quickly backpedaled. "I'm so sorry, I was entirely too forward for a first meeting. Please forgive me. If you don't mind, could we at least start as friends?""It would be an honor to be friends with an educator like you," she said, genuinely impressed by her first impression of him.He truly lived up to the standard of a dedicated teacher—his manners, intellect, and conversation were completely flawless.They were deep in pleasant conversation when a dark shadow suddenly eclipsed the warm overhead lighting.Ottilie looked up to see Jevon standing by their table, flashing a deeply amused, mocking grin at Yves."I was wondering why you didn't scurry after us, Ms. Sewell. Turns out you're on a date!"Ottilie merely nodded with a polite smile, offering no explanation or defense.Jevon glanced dismissively at their modest plates before addressing her again. "Your leftover junk is still at Yorath's place. Come clear it out tonight.""I didn't leave anything there," she replied evenly."Your old clothes, the furniture you picked out, your personal items," he listed off lazily."I don't want any of it. Please have someone throw it in the trash.""Sure thing. Enjoy your meal," Jevon said, striding toward the stairs with an arrogant swagger.He slipped into the private VIP suite and dropped heavily into the chair next to Yorath."She is having dinner downstairs with some guy. Supposedly it's her new boyfriend. Those eggs were for him."Halfway through Ottilie and Yves's meal, a waiter arrived with more food.Premium silver cod, Australian lobster, and a rich restorative health broth."I think there's been a mistake," Ottilie said. "We didn't order these.""They're on the house, courtesy of Mr. Fordham," the waiter replied politely. "The bill has already been settled."Looking at the luxurious spread, she knew this cost a small fortune. She was about to send it back when Yves intervened. "Let's just enjoy it. We can return the favor by covering their check before we leave."Ottilie felt a sharp pang of embarrassment. She was completely broke. Every dime she had ever earned from acting had been drained to pay Nyssa's massive legal settlement three years ago.Yves, incredibly perceptive and considerate, noticed her discomfort and quickly added, "I've got the tab tonight. You can treat me next time.""Okay," she agreed, deciding to just enjoy the exquisite food now that the financial pressure was lifted.When they finished and went to the front desk to settle the bill, Yves asked the host, "How much is the total for the gentleman who sent those dishes to our table? I'd like to pay for their suite."Assuming they were close friends playing a game of hospitality, the cashier clicked the computer a few times and replied cheerfully, "That will be five thousand dollars."Ottilie's eyelid twitched.Yet Yves didn't even flinch. He simply pulled out his card and paid the astronomical total.As they left the restaurant and got into his car, Ottilie immediately said, "Once I find a job, I'll wire you the money.""Don't be silly," Yves chuckled. "We're friends now. Isn't our new friendship worth the price of a dinner?"She offered him a deeply grateful smile. But internally, she swore she would pay him back every single cent the moment she got a paycheck.Ultimately, it was through a connection of Yves's that Ottilie landed a job as hotel staff. The pay was minimum wage, but it included two free meals a shift. With no degree and no transferable skills, she was perfectly content just to be employed.Because of her striking looks, the lobby manager assigned her to wear a bespoke silk gown and stand at the front doors as a greeter during peak hours.That was when she crossed paths with Yorath again. He was walking in with a different entourage, deep in a business discussion.Before they reached the entrance, Ottilie pulled the heavy glass doors open, crossing her hands elegantly over her stomach and bowing her head slightly. "Welcome."Yorath didn't spare her a fraction of a glance as he strode past.Jevon, however, paused right in front of her. "What a coincidence. Bumping into you two days in a row, Ms. Sewell. It must be destiny."Translated, this meant: *You pathetic stalker, we can't seem to scrape you off the bottom of our shoes.*She knew perfectly well that Jevon trashed her behind her back, calling her a cheap, trashy actress who was utterly delusional for thinking she could ever become Mrs. Fordham. She had heard him say it with her own ears more than once.That was the nature of the ultra-rich. They could despise your very existence, but their outward demeanor would remain impeccably polite.If they wanted to crush someone, all it took was a subtle look, and a legion of lackeys would eagerly do the dirty work.Take Yorath, for example. He never personally issued demands to her; everything was relayed through Jevon or his executive assistants.Jevon's current comment was an undeniable warning, telling her to abandon whatever sick fantasy she had of crawling back to Yorath.Ottilie maintained her flawless, professional smile, neither answering nor meeting his gaze, remaining frozen in a respectful bow.Finding her lack of reaction boring, Jevon clicked his tongue and walked away.A moment later, the manager approached her. "Ottilie, Room 506 ordered drinks and cigars. Run this up."She retrieved the items from the bar, balanced the silver tray, and headed to Room 506.She knocked, and Jevon opened the door. "Ah, there you are. Yorath is in the shower. Come in and wait."He ushered her inside, then promptly led the rest of the entourage out of the suite, leaving her alone.Ottilie set the tray down on the table and immediately turned to leave, but the bedroom door suddenly clicked open.Chapter 2Ottilie Sewell had been treated at St. Dymphna's Psychiatric Facility for three years before her attending physician unilaterally declared her cured and discharged her.She stood at the entrance of the hospital, facing the blank brick wall.In her mind, she reached into her chest, ripped out her own heart, and smeared it against the concrete. From this moment on, she was a woman without a heart.During Ottilie's first meal back home, not a single dish on the dining table was something she liked.Her brother, Shawn Sewell, gorged himself, grease gleaming on his mouth as he devoured the food.Her father, James Sewell, asked, "Are you still in touch with Yorath Fordham?""No," Ottilie replied without even lifting her head.James let out a disappointed grunt. "Your mother and I set up a blind date for you with a public school teacher. We've negotiated a two hundred-thousand-dollar settlement to help pay for Shawn's wedding. You're meeting him at the restaurant tomorrow. Don't screw this up, or else..."Ottilie's birth had been an accident, one that ended up costing James his cushy corporate job. Coupled with a family dynamic that heavily favored sons, she had always been the household's burden and punching bag. A minor offense meant a severe beating; a major one meant being locked out of the house for a month, forced to dig through trash just to survive."Okay," Ottilie agreed obediently, instantly drawing suspicious glares from the rest of the table.She was notoriously stubborn; if she didn't want to do something, she wouldn't bend even if it killed her. James had been fully prepared to drag her to City Hall in zip ties.For the rest of the meal, the family ate in total silence.No one cared why she had been convicted of attempted murder three years ago.No one asked why she was later deemed legally insane, or whether she had suffered during her time at St. Dymphna's Psychiatric Facility.Then again, she didn't need anyone's pity....The next day.Ottilie carried a basket of organic farm-fresh eggs to the restaurant entrance, waiting for her blind date. Her mother had forcefully shoved the eggs into her hands, insisting she give them to her date to take home to his mother.She hadn't been waiting long when a fleet of luxury cars pulled up to the curb.The valets jogged over immediately to assist.A group of elites in sharp tailored suits flanked a tall, strikingly handsome man as they approached.Even after three years, picking Yorath out of a crowd was as effortless for Ottilie as finding a gleaming pearl in a pile of sand.Yorath Fordham, the second son of a staggeringly wealthy dynasty. Back in college, he had already participated in legislative revisions as a legal scholar. At twenty-five, he shot to international fame after winning a massive corporate trademark case.He now owned the top law firm in the country. He was hailed as the undefeated king of the legal world.Three years ago, Ottilie had a severe conflict with Nyssa Tarrant, the daughter of Yorath's mentor.Acting as Nyssa's attorney, Yorath was the one who ruthlessly locked Ottilie away in the psychiatric facility.To outsiders, he was the picture of refined, aristocratic elegance. Only Ottilie knew exactly how feral and twisted this universally admired golden boy became once the clothes came off.He had claimed and devoured every single inch of her body!Like an insatiable, ravenous wolf.Ottilie stepped to the side, clearing the path to the restaurant doors.The entourage ascended the steps, about to head inside, when one of them suddenly glanced in her direction."Well, well! Ms. Sewell, it's been a while."Yorath, leading the pack, halted. The entire group stopped in their tracks and turned their eyes toward Ottilie.She offered a polite, distant smile to the man who had called out. "Hello, Mr. Crawford."Jevon Crawford closed the distance with long strides, his gaze dropping to the basket of eggs in her hand. "Hahaha... All these years later, and you're still bringing your absolute best to offer Yorath. I'm almost jealous."People with high social intelligence always knew how to make a remark sound charming. In the past, Ottilie wouldn't have caught the underlying sarcasm; she would have been genuinely thrilled by the compliment.It was only after being degraded, crushed, and universally despised that she finally understood. He was actually mocking her for being pathetic, offering up cheap, worthless items that no one wanted.Maintaining her composure, Ottilie replied smoothly, "I wouldn't dare present something so unrefined to Mr. Fordham. These are a gift for a friend."Jevon clearly didn't buy it. He reached out and gave her shoulder a careless, heavy pat.He turned back to Yorath. "Hahaha, look at this, Yorath. Ms. Sewell hasn't changed one bit. Still talking tough but totally soft on the inside. Isn't she adorable?"Yorath cast a fleeting, glacial glance at Ottilie, then walked into the restaurant without looking back.The rest of his entourage quickly followed.In the past, Ottilie would have eagerly trailed right behind them like a desperate puppy. She would have bragged about how these eggs were farm-raised and delicious, practically begging Yorath to take them home.Today, she didn't even spare him a second glance, opting to stand dutifully by the entrance, waiting for her date....About ten minutes later.A modest Nissan Leaf pulled up to the restaurant. A young man wearing glasses and a crisp white button-down stepped out and hurried toward her."Ms. Sewell, I'm so sorry. Traffic was terrible, and I'm late."This was her blind date, Yves Walden.Ottilie smiled warmly. "You're not late; I was just early. My mother wanted me to bring these for your parents."She handed the basket of eggs to Yves.He accepted it, his fingers lightly brushing the shells as a genuine smile touched his lips."These are wonderful. Farm-fresh, organic, and incredibly healthy. My mother will absolutely love them."He carefully placed the basket in his trunk.Their reserved table was right in the middle of the main dining room, visible to anyone walking in or out.After they ordered, Yves cleared his throat. "Let me properly introduce myself. I'm thirty-one, a middle school teacher making a decent living. Both my family and I are hoping I can settle down and start a family soon. When I saw your picture, I was immediately drawn to you. I'm very interested in building a life together."Ottilie replied calmly, "I appreciate the flattering words, Mr. Walden, but I'm not a good person. Marrying me would ruin your career and cast a dark shadow over any future children.""I spent five years working in the entertainment industry and was kept by a sugar daddy. After that, I was convicted of attempted murder and spent three years locked up in St. Dymphna's Psychiatric Facility. On top of all that, my parents are demanding a two hundred-thousand-dollar payout to marry me off."Of course, before she left the house, her parents had explicitly warned her never to mention any of this. Their logic was that once they were married and the money was transferred, it wouldn't matter what he knew. As long as she refused to sign divorce papers and dragged out the legal battle, eventually they wouldn't have to return a dime of the settlement.Unfortunately for them, Ottilie had no intention of playing along. She fully expected Yves to run for the hills after hearing the ugly truth.But to her surprise, he just offered a gentle smile."I know about your past. I used to be a huge fan of your work. To me, the trials you've faced are your greatest asset. You're gentle, blindingly honest, and you know what it means to care for someone. If you hadn't been through everything you have, why would you ever be sitting across from me on a date? I wouldn't even be in your league."Ottilie had heard plenty of hypocritical, sycophantic flattery in her life, but this was the first time someone had praised her with such raw, unfiltered sincerity.It almost sounded real.She fell silent, making Yves worry he had come on too strong and frightened her. He quickly backpedaled. "I'm so sorry, I was entirely too forward for a first meeting. Please forgive me. If you don't mind, could we at least start as friends?""It would be an honor to be friends with an educator like you," she said, genuinely impressed by her first impression of him.He truly lived up to the standard of a dedicated teacher—his manners, intellect, and conversation were completely flawless.They were deep in pleasant conversation when a dark shadow suddenly eclipsed the warm overhead lighting.Ottilie looked up to see Jevon standing by their table, flashing a deeply amused, mocking grin at Yves."I was wondering why you didn't scurry after us, Ms. Sewell. Turns out you're on a date!"Ottilie merely nodded with a polite smile, offering no explanation or defense.Jevon glanced dismissively at their modest plates before addressing her again. "Your leftover junk is still at Yorath's place. Come clear it out tonight.""I didn't leave anything there," she replied evenly."Your old clothes, the furniture you picked out, your personal items," he listed off lazily."I don't want any of it. Please have someone throw it in the trash.""Sure thing. Enjoy your meal," Jevon said, striding toward the stairs with an arrogant swagger.He slipped into the private VIP suite and dropped heavily into the chair next to Yorath."She is having dinner downstairs with some guy. Supposedly it's her new boyfriend. Those eggs were for him."Halfway through Ottilie and Yves's meal, a waiter arrived with more food.Premium silver cod, Australian lobster, and a rich restorative health broth."I think there's been a mistake," Ottilie said. "We didn't order these.""They're on the house, courtesy of Mr. Fordham," the waiter replied politely. "The bill has already been settled."Looking at the luxurious spread, she knew this cost a small fortune. She was about to send it back when Yves intervened. "Let's just enjoy it. We can return the favor by covering their check before we leave."Ottilie felt a sharp pang of embarrassment. She was completely broke. Every dime she had ever earned from acting had been drained to pay Nyssa's massive legal settlement three years ago.Yves, incredibly perceptive and considerate, noticed her discomfort and quickly added, "I've got the tab tonight. You can treat me next time.""Okay," she agreed, deciding to just enjoy the exquisite food now that the financial pressure was lifted.When they finished and went to the front desk to settle the bill, Yves asked the host, "How much is the total for the gentleman who sent those dishes to our table? I'd like to pay for their suite."Assuming they were close friends playing a game of hospitality, the cashier clicked the computer a few times and replied cheerfully, "That will be five thousand dollars."Ottilie's eyelid twitched.Yet Yves didn't even flinch. He simply pulled out his card and paid the astronomical total.As they left the restaurant and got into his car, Ottilie immediately said, "Once I find a job, I'll wire you the money.""Don't be silly," Yves chuckled. "We're friends now. Isn't our new friendship worth the price of a dinner?"She offered him a deeply grateful smile. But internally, she swore she would pay him back every single cent the moment she got a paycheck.Ultimately, it was through a connection of Yves's that Ottilie landed a job as hotel staff. The pay was minimum wage, but it included two free meals a shift. With no degree and no transferable skills, she was perfectly content just to be employed.Because of her striking looks, the lobby manager assigned her to wear a bespoke silk gown and stand at the front doors as a greeter during peak hours.That was when she crossed paths with Yorath again. He was walking in with a different entourage, deep in a business discussion.Before they reached the entrance, Ottilie pulled the heavy glass doors open, crossing her hands elegantly over her stomach and bowing her head slightly. "Welcome."Yorath didn't spare her a fraction of a glance as he strode past.Jevon, however, paused right in front of her. "What a coincidence. Bumping into you two days in a row, Ms. Sewell. It must be destiny."Translated, this meant: *You pathetic stalker, we can't seem to scrape you off the bottom of our shoes.*She knew perfectly well that Jevon trashed her behind her back, calling her a cheap, trashy actress who was utterly delusional for thinking she could ever become Mrs. Fordham. She had heard him say it with her own ears more than once.That was the nature of the ultra-rich. They could despise your very existence, but their outward demeanor would remain impeccably polite.If they wanted to crush someone, all it took was a subtle look, and a legion of lackeys would eagerly do the dirty work.Take Yorath, for example. He never personally issued demands to her; everything was relayed through Jevon or his executive assistants.Jevon's current comment was an undeniable warning, telling her to abandon whatever sick fantasy she had of crawling back to Yorath.Ottilie maintained her flawless, professional smile, neither answering nor meeting his gaze, remaining frozen in a respectful bow.Finding her lack of reaction boring, Jevon clicked his tongue and walked away.A moment later, the manager approached her. "Ottilie, Room 506 ordered drinks and cigars. Run this up."She retrieved the items from the bar, balanced the silver tray, and headed to Room 506.She knocked, and Jevon opened the door. "Ah, there you are. Yorath is in the shower. Come in and wait."He ushered her inside, then promptly led the rest of the entourage out of the suite, leaving her alone.Ottilie set the tray down on the table and immediately turned to leave, but the bedroom door suddenly clicked open.Chapter 3Ottilie Sewell had been treated at St. Dymphna's Psychiatric Facility for three years before her attending physician unilaterally declared her cured and discharged her.She stood at the entrance of the hospital, facing the blank brick wall.In her mind, she reached into her chest, ripped out her own heart, and smeared it against the concrete. From this moment on, she was a woman without a heart.During Ottilie's first meal back home, not a single dish on the dining table was something she liked.Her brother, Shawn Sewell, gorged himself, grease gleaming on his mouth as he devoured the food.Her father, James Sewell, asked, "Are you still in touch with Yorath Fordham?""No," Ottilie replied without even lifting her head.James let out a disappointed grunt. "Your mother and I set up a blind date for you with a public school teacher. We've negotiated a two hundred-thousand-dollar settlement to help pay for Shawn's wedding. You're meeting him at the restaurant tomorrow. Don't screw this up, or else..."Ottilie's birth had been an accident, one that ended up costing James his cushy corporate job. Coupled with a family dynamic that heavily favored sons, she had always been the household's burden and punching bag. A minor offense meant a severe beating; a major one meant being locked out of the house for a month, forced to dig through trash just to survive."Okay," Ottilie agreed obediently, instantly drawing suspicious glares from the rest of the table.She was notoriously stubborn; if she didn't want to do something, she wouldn't bend even if it killed her. James had been fully prepared to drag her to City Hall in zip ties.For the rest of the meal, the family ate in total silence.No one cared why she had been convicted of attempted murder three years ago.No one asked why she was later deemed legally insane, or whether she had suffered during her time at St. Dymphna's Psychiatric Facility.Then again, she didn't need anyone's pity....The next day.Ottilie carried a basket of organic farm-fresh eggs to the restaurant entrance, waiting for her blind date. Her mother had forcefully shoved the eggs into her hands, insisting she give them to her date to take home to his mother.She hadn't been waiting long when a fleet of luxury cars pulled up to the curb.The valets jogged over immediately to assist.A group of elites in sharp tailored suits flanked a tall, strikingly handsome man as they approached.Even after three years, picking Yorath out of a crowd was as effortless for Ottilie as finding a gleaming pearl in a pile of sand.Yorath Fordham, the second son of a staggeringly wealthy dynasty. Back in college, he had already participated in legislative revisions as a legal scholar. At twenty-five, he shot to international fame after winning a massive corporate trademark case.He now owned the top law firm in the country. He was hailed as the undefeated king of the legal world.Three years ago, Ottilie had a severe conflict with Nyssa Tarrant, the daughter of Yorath's mentor.Acting as Nyssa's attorney, Yorath was the one who ruthlessly locked Ottilie away in the psychiatric facility.To outsiders, he was the picture of refined, aristocratic elegance. Only Ottilie knew exactly how feral and twisted this universally admired golden boy became once the clothes came off.He had claimed and devoured every single inch of her body!Like an insatiable, ravenous wolf.Ottilie stepped to the side, clearing the path to the restaurant doors.The entourage ascended the steps, about to head inside, when one of them suddenly glanced in her direction."Well, well! Ms. Sewell, it's been a while."Yorath, leading the pack, halted. The entire group stopped in their tracks and turned their eyes toward Ottilie.She offered a polite, distant smile to the man who had called out. "Hello, Mr. Crawford."Jevon Crawford closed the distance with long strides, his gaze dropping to the basket of eggs in her hand. "Hahaha... All these years later, and you're still bringing your absolute best to offer Yorath. I'm almost jealous."People with high social intelligence always knew how to make a remark sound charming. In the past, Ottilie wouldn't have caught the underlying sarcasm; she would have been genuinely thrilled by the compliment.It was only after being degraded, crushed, and universally despised that she finally understood. He was actually mocking her for being pathetic, offering up cheap, worthless items that no one wanted.Maintaining her composure, Ottilie replied smoothly, "I wouldn't dare present something so unrefined to Mr. Fordham. These are a gift for a friend."Jevon clearly didn't buy it. He reached out and gave her shoulder a careless, heavy pat.He turned back to Yorath. "Hahaha, look at this, Yorath. Ms. Sewell hasn't changed one bit. Still talking tough but totally soft on the inside. Isn't she adorable?"Yorath cast a fleeting, glacial glance at Ottilie, then walked into the restaurant without looking back.The rest of his entourage quickly followed.In the past, Ottilie would have eagerly trailed right behind them like a desperate puppy. She would have bragged about how these eggs were farm-raised and delicious, practically begging Yorath to take them home.Today, she didn't even spare him a second glance, opting to stand dutifully by the entrance, waiting for her date....About ten minutes later.A modest Nissan Leaf pulled up to the restaurant. A young man wearing glasses and a crisp white button-down stepped out and hurried toward her."Ms. Sewell, I'm so sorry. Traffic was terrible, and I'm late."This was her blind date, Yves Walden.Ottilie smiled warmly. "You're not late; I was just early. My mother wanted me to bring these for your parents."She handed the basket of eggs to Yves.He accepted it, his fingers lightly brushing the shells as a genuine smile touched his lips."These are wonderful. Farm-fresh, organic, and incredibly healthy. My mother will absolutely love them."He carefully placed the basket in his trunk.Their reserved table was right in the middle of the main dining room, visible to anyone walking in or out.After they ordered, Yves cleared his throat. "Let me properly introduce myself. I'm thirty-one, a middle school teacher making a decent living. Both my family and I are hoping I can settle down and start a family soon. When I saw your picture, I was immediately drawn to you. I'm very interested in building a life together."Ottilie replied calmly, "I appreciate the flattering words, Mr. Walden, but I'm not a good person. Marrying me would ruin your career and cast a dark shadow over any future children.""I spent five years working in the entertainment industry and was kept by a sugar daddy. After that, I was convicted of attempted murder and spent three years locked up in St. Dymphna's Psychiatric Facility. On top of all that, my parents are demanding a two hundred-thousand-dollar payout to marry me off."Of course, before she left the house, her parents had explicitly warned her never to mention any of this. Their logic was that once they were married and the money was transferred, it wouldn't matter what he knew. As long as she refused to sign divorce papers and dragged out the legal battle, eventually they wouldn't have to return a dime of the settlement.Unfortunately for them, Ottilie had no intention of playing along. She fully expected Yves to run for the hills after hearing the ugly truth.But to her surprise, he just offered a gentle smile."I know about your past. I used to be a huge fan of your work. To me, the trials you've faced are your greatest asset. You're gentle, blindingly honest, and you know what it means to care for someone. If you hadn't been through everything you have, why would you ever be sitting across from me on a date? I wouldn't even be in your league."Ottilie had heard plenty of hypocritical, sycophantic flattery in her life, but this was the first time someone had praised her with such raw, unfiltered sincerity.It almost sounded real.She fell silent, making Yves worry he had come on too strong and frightened her. He quickly backpedaled. "I'm so sorry, I was entirely too forward for a first meeting. Please forgive me. If you don't mind, could we at least start as friends?""It would be an honor to be friends with an educator like you," she said, genuinely impressed by her first impression of him.He truly lived up to the standard of a dedicated teacher—his manners, intellect, and conversation were completely flawless.They were deep in pleasant conversation when a dark shadow suddenly eclipsed the warm overhead lighting.Ottilie looked up to see Jevon standing by their table, flashing a deeply amused, mocking grin at Yves."I was wondering why you didn't scurry after us, Ms. Sewell. Turns out you're on a date!"Ottilie merely nodded with a polite smile, offering no explanation or defense.Jevon glanced dismissively at their modest plates before addressing her again. "Your leftover junk is still at Yorath's place. Come clear it out tonight.""I didn't leave anything there," she replied evenly."Your old clothes, the furniture you picked out, your personal items," he listed off lazily."I don't want any of it. Please have someone throw it in the trash.""Sure thing. Enjoy your meal," Jevon said, striding toward the stairs with an arrogant swagger.He slipped into the private VIP suite and dropped heavily into the chair next to Yorath."She is having dinner downstairs with some guy. Supposedly it's her new boyfriend. Those eggs were for him."Halfway through Ottilie and Yves's meal, a waiter arrived with more food.Premium silver cod, Australian lobster, and a rich restorative health broth."I think there's been a mistake," Ottilie said. "We didn't order these.""They're on the house, courtesy of Mr. Fordham," the waiter replied politely. "The bill has already been settled."Looking at the luxurious spread, she knew this cost a small fortune. She was about to send it back when Yves intervened. "Let's just enjoy it. We can return the favor by covering their check before we leave."Ottilie felt a sharp pang of embarrassment. She was completely broke. Every dime she had ever earned from acting had been drained to pay Nyssa's massive legal settlement three years ago.Yves, incredibly perceptive and considerate, noticed her discomfort and quickly added, "I've got the tab tonight. You can treat me next time.""Okay," she agreed, deciding to just enjoy the exquisite food now that the financial pressure was lifted.When they finished and went to the front desk to settle the bill, Yves asked the host, "How much is the total for the gentleman who sent those dishes to our table? I'd like to pay for their suite."Assuming they were close friends playing a game of hospitality, the cashier clicked the computer a few times and replied cheerfully, "That will be five thousand dollars."Ottilie's eyelid twitched.Yet Yves didn't even flinch. He simply pulled out his card and paid the astronomical total.As they left the restaurant and got into his car, Ottilie immediately said, "Once I find a job, I'll wire you the money.""Don't be silly," Yves chuckled. "We're friends now. Isn't our new friendship worth the price of a dinner?"She offered him a deeply grateful smile. But internally, she swore she would pay him back every single cent the moment she got a paycheck.Ultimately, it was through a connection of Yves's that Ottilie landed a job as hotel staff. The pay was minimum wage, but it included two free meals a shift. With no degree and no transferable skills, she was perfectly content just to be employed.Because of her striking looks, the lobby manager assigned her to wear a bespoke silk gown and stand at the front doors as a greeter during peak hours.That was when she crossed paths with Yorath again. He was walking in with a different entourage, deep in a business discussion.Before they reached the entrance, Ottilie pulled the heavy glass doors open, crossing her hands elegantly over her stomach and bowing her head slightly. "Welcome."Yorath didn't spare her a fraction of a glance as he strode past.Jevon, however, paused right in front of her. "What a coincidence. Bumping into you two days in a row, Ms. Sewell. It must be destiny."Translated, this meant: *You pathetic stalker, we can't seem to scrape you off the bottom of our shoes.*She knew perfectly well that Jevon trashed her behind her back, calling her a cheap, trashy actress who was utterly delusional for thinking she could ever become Mrs. Fordham. She had heard him say it with her own ears more than once.That was the nature of the ultra-rich. They could despise your very existence, but their outward demeanor would remain impeccably polite.If they wanted to crush someone, all it took was a subtle look, and a legion of lackeys would eagerly do the dirty work.Take Yorath, for example. He never personally issued demands to her; everything was relayed through Jevon or his executive assistants.Jevon's current comment was an undeniable warning, telling her to abandon whatever sick fantasy she had of crawling back to Yorath.Ottilie maintained her flawless, professional smile, neither answering nor meeting his gaze, remaining frozen in a respectful bow.Finding her lack of reaction boring, Jevon clicked his tongue and walked away.A moment later, the manager approached her. "Ottilie, Room 506 ordered drinks and cigars. Run this up."She retrieved the items from the bar, balanced the silver tray, and headed to Room 506.She knocked, and Jevon opened the door. "Ah, there you are. Yorath is in the shower. Come in and wait."He ushered her inside, then promptly led the rest of the entourage out of the suite, leaving her alone.Ottilie set the tray down on the table and immediately turned to leave, but the bedroom door suddenly clicked open.