Chapter 1

"Help me... I... I'll take responsibility for you..."

Genevieve Gadot clung to the man in the dimly lit room, struggling to make her promise.

Their hot breaths intertwined, causing the temperature to rise sharply.

The man gripped her chin tightly, and the heat and discomfort in his body were a glaring reminder that there was something wrong with the drink he had earlier.

He nearly crushed her jaw in his grip, and his hoarse, restrained voice was laced with disdain and mockery. "Is this another one of your tricks? Hm?"

"It's not... Mm!"

Before she could finish her sentence, the man suddenly kissed her fiercely.

The night was long and chaotic.

When Genevieve woke the following day, her entire body felt like a truck had run over her.

The man had been relentless, like a wild beast, as though it wasn't her who had been set up but him.

The lingering warmth beside her reminded her that he was still there.

She instinctively froze, then slowly turned her head.

The man had his back to her. She could only see his short, thick hair and his broad shoulders.

She hadn't expected her first time to be with a stranger.

While recalling the previous day's events, she felt a pang of bitterness.

Her father, Charlie Gadot, used to be a project manager at a large construction site, but a major accident had occurred, resulting in seven deaths and one severe injury.

The injured man became a vegetable—a powerful figure, or so she had heard.

Charlie ended up in prison and died within a year, falling ill behind bars.

On his deathbed, he clutched her hand, insisting on his innocence and begging her to uncover the truth and clear his name.

Determined, she threw herself into studying architecture, earning her qualifications to investigate the site.

But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get hired there—not even for manual labor.

Desperate, she had arranged a meeting with an executive from the site last night through some connections. She hadn't anticipated being drugged.

After barely escaping from the fat executive, she had stumbled into this room and the arms of the man beside her.

At the time, she was already feeling unbearable, so she begged him for help. In a way, he did help her.

But upon remembering her promise to take responsibility, Genevieve hesitated.

Those words had been rash. What if he already had someone in his life?

After thinking for a moment, she got up, left a note on the desk, removed half of the pendant from her necklace, and placed it on top of the note.

After setting everything down, she moved to pick up her coat from the bedside.

Just then, the man stirred and turned over with a low grunt.

When Genevieve saw his face, her entire body froze.

It was him—Tristan Burtman. A name that struck fear into everyone in Jasfield.

She had unknowingly spent the night with a man notorious for his ruthless ways.

What if he decided to kill her when he woke up?

Panicking, she decided to take back the note and pendant. But before she could, there was a knock at the door.

Gritting her teeth, she bolted to the balcony.

This was a resort on a farm, and the room was on the ground floor. Beyond the window was a stretch of green lawn.

By the time Tristan opened his eyes, Genevieve had already climbed out the window, forcing her aching body to move.

The knocking continued.

While rubbing his throbbing temples, Tristan rasped, "Come in."

"Mr. Burtman, are you alright?"

His assistant, Ethan Miller, stepped in. His expression shifted when his eyes landed on the scratch marks on Tristan's shoulders, and his imagination ran wild.

Tristan's gaze turned cold as memories of the previous night surfaced.

It seemed his aunt, Lillian Parker, still hadn't given up on forcing her niece, Marlee Parker, on him.

But the woman last night wasn't Marlee.

Marlee reeked of perfume, while the woman from last night carried a faint, natural fragrance.

His gaze darkened when he thought about her delicate beauty.

He wasn't a man driven by lust, yet last night, he had lost all control.

The discomfort in his body was relieved by the early part of the night, but he kept that woman with him for the entire night.

That was definitely not a good sign.

"Mr. Burtman, there's a note here."

Tristan unfolded the note, and his expression instantly turned grim.

Chapter 2

The note read, "Thank you for last night. This pendant is my way of repaying you. I hope it brings you peace and safety for the rest of your life. If you want me to take responsibility, bring this pendant and find me.

"If you already have someone in your heart, forget everything that happened last night."

Tristan instantly crumpled the note in his hand, and he let out a cold laugh.

This audacious woman—what did she take him for?

"Mr. Burtman, there's also a pendant here," Ethan cautiously reminded him after seeing his dark expression.

Tristan grabbed the pendant and raised his hand as if to throw it away.

However, his handsome brows furrowed slightly when he noticed the shape of the pendant.

The pendant should have been a pair—what he was holding now was a semicircle, likely just one-half of it.

What puzzled him more was that the pendant looked oddly familiar, though he couldn't recall where or when he had seen it.

His gaze shifted to the faint red stain on the sheets, and his expression darkened.

He closed his hand around the pendant and said to Ethan, "Find the woman who entered this room last night."

Tristan was a man who despised being manipulated.

Since Lillian had gone to such lengths to push Marlee onto him, even setting him up, he had made sure to end her schemes once and for all.

He would marry the woman from last night!

"As if half a pendant could sever our connection—what a joke," Tristan scoffed internally.

Tristan smiled as he looked at the pendant in his hand.

The sight sent chills down Ethan's spine.

Upon remembering something, Ethan hesitated before saying, "Mr. Burtman, Mrs. Burtman Senior asked you to return home. She's arranged a marriage for Mr. Quinton, saying it's to bring him good fortune."

Tristan adjusted his cufflinks, his expression cold. "Which family is this woman from? She had better not have any ulterior motives, especially considering Uncle Quinton's current state."

"Well... according to Mrs. Burtman Senior, it's Mr. Gadot's daughter. You know, the one whose negligence caused the construction accident."

Tristan's gaze turned deadly, his whole body radiating menace. "How dare they offer their daughter! Aren't they afraid I'll destroy her?"

"Mrs. Burtman Senior intends to have her care for Mr. Quinton as atonement."

"Heh... Aside from Uncle Quinton, what about the seven lives? Do you think their family can afford to redeem them?"

Ethan wisely fell silent under his ominous glare.

…

"You said you were going to fight for justice for your father. Look at the marks all over you—what were you doing last night? Sleeping with a man? How shameless can you be?"

Genevieve, naturally reserved, stayed silent even as she was slapped.

"Fortunately, the marriage I arranged for you is with a vegetative patient. Otherwise, with those marks on your body..."

"Mom..." Genevieve stared at Miriam Porter, shocked. "What did you just say?"

Knowing Genevieve's strong-willed nature, Miriam softened her tone. "Genny, listen to me. I've arranged a marriage for you. The groom may be a vegetable, but he's from a wealthy family."

"I won't marry him!"

Miriam's expression darkened. "Do you think you can just refuse? Someone has to pay for your father's crimes.

"His negligence caused the construction accident, resulting in seven deaths and one injury. That injury left a man a vegetable, and now his family is demanding one of ours marry him. What choice do I have?"

"Dad was framed!" Genevieve gritted her teeth.

"And who would believe that? Do you think your word alone changes anything? You're marrying him, no matter what. I've already signed the agreement."

Upon seeing Genevieve's defiance, Miriam switched tactics, and tears began streaming down her face.

"You think I want to marry you off to someone like that? I have no choice. Do you want Hannah, who is still in school, to take your place?

"And Harry? He's been bullied at school because of your father. He has such a short temper, so he ends up fighting classmates. He's now in detention, and the injured kid's family wants to sue him and demand compensation.

"Where should I get the money to pay them or get him out? I barely make enough as a housekeeper at the Taylor residence to cover our living expenses. If you marry him, they've promised a wedding gift of one million dollars. We can use that money to save Harry."

The fall weather felt exceptionally cold, with a steady drizzle weaving through the day.

Genevieve stared at the gloomy sky, her chest heavy with despair.

…

The fall rain softly fell on Tristan's shoulders at the Burtman residence, deepening the chill already etched into his aloof expression.

He strode into the house, and Lillian quickly approached, dragging Marlee with her.

"Tristan, you're back late. How was last night? Marlee was worn out, you know."

Marlee blushed and played along, looking shy.

He shot them a disgusted glance, his voice cold. "She's tired? What does that have to do with me?"

"Tristan, are you trying to deny what happened?"

He let out a cold chuckle. "Aunt Lillian, do you really think I was so out of it that I couldn't recognize who the woman was last night? And as for the drink you handed me… Shall we lay everything bare here and now, or would you prefer to save yourself the embarrassment? Get out!"

"You... I'm still your elder!"

"Act like one then," Jennifer Garcia said as she descended the stairs, her tone stern. "Everyone out. I need to speak with Tristan."

"Mom..." Lillian began.

"Out!"

Reluctantly, Lillian dragged Marlee away.

Jennifer gently pulled Tristan down to sit on the couch. She studied him, whose strikingly handsome features paired with his ever-serious, frosty demeanor. Silently, she sighed. It was no wonder it was hard for any woman to like him genuinely.

She began, "Tristan, Quinton's wedding is tomorrow. His bride is—"

"I won't allow it!"

"Why not?"

"Her father ruined Uncle Quinton's life. If she comes, I might not be able to stop myself from killing her!"

"Can you stop being so violent?" Jennifer smacked his arm in exasperation. "It's not her fault what her father did."

"If it's not her fault, why is she atoning for her family's sins? Aren't you contradicting yourself?"

Speechless, Jennifer finally handed him a photo. "This is the woman. You'll go to the courthouse tomorrow on his behalf. Don't forget his photo and documents."

She climbed the stairs, throwing a parting reminder. "9:00 am sharp. Don't be late."

Once upstairs, her eyes gleamed with determination.

Bernard hesitated. "Will this really work?"

"It's the only way. If I don't push him, he'll be single forever."

"But what if he finds out later..."

"Don't worry. He may be harsh, but he won't hurt an innocent woman. Besides, she saved my life once. She's a good person, and I won't let him miss out on someone like her."

"Haha! No wonder you changed your mind when you saw that woman's photo."

At first, Jennifer had indeed planned for the lady from the Gadot family to marry Quinton to bring him good fortune.

But when she saw the woman's photo, she immediately changed her decision and decided the woman should marry Tristan instead.

Meanwhile, Tristan cast a cold glance at the photo with an indifferent expression. Without a second thought, he tossed the picture into the trash can.

…

The next morning at the courthouse, Miriam had urged Genevieve to arrive at 8:00 am.

She said she didn't know the other person, but Miriam reassured her that the person had her photo, so she needn't worry.

With a heavy heart, she quietly waited outside.

Couples walked past her one after another, making her feel even more lonely. Her figure appeared particularly pitiful against the chilly fall breeze.

At exactly 9:00 am, a black business car stopped before her.

Genevieve's whole body shivered when she saw the man stepping out of the car.

Chapter 3

Was that Tristan? What was he doing here? This was the courthouse, and people came here to get married or divorced.

He must have had someone special in his heart, then.

Genevieve swore last night would remain a secret, buried deep within her forever.

He was tall, and his black trench coat only accentuated his cold and stern demeanor. His slightly narrowed eyes carried a latent sharpness that made him seem dangerous.

Genevieve instinctively feared him. When he approached her, she quietly stepped aside, pulling her neck into her coat collar as if trying to disappear.

But as she shrank away, it dawned on her—she didn't need to hide.

The room had been pitch black last night, so there was no way he had seen her face.

He passed her without sparing a glance, and Genevieve let out a silent breath of relief.

He didn't know she was the woman from last night.

Tristan walked several feet past her before suddenly asking Ethan, "Do I look that scary?"

Ethan scratched the back of his head. "Of course not, Mr. Burtman. You're the epitome of handsome and suave—'scary' doesn't even come close."

"Why did that woman look at me like a ghost?"

Ethan remained silent.

Genevieve continued waiting, but the family she was supposed to meet never showed up. Just as she was about to call Miriam, a cool voice sounded above her.

"Are you walking in yourself, or must I carry you?"

Genevieve stiffened her spine, and she turned to find Tristan standing before her.

"You…"

Tristan frowned, his gaze filled with disdain. "Take her inside. Don't waste my time," he ordered.

"Yes, Mr. Burtman!"

"No, wait—you've got the wrong person!” Genevieve hurried after him, summoning her courage. "You've mistaken me for someone else. I'm supposed to marry—"

"There's no mistake. It's you, Genevieve Gadot."

Hearing him say her name sent a strange ripple through her heart, but the coldness in his tone quickly doused it.

He wasn't just cold in demeanor—his voice carried a frost that chilled her to the bone.

But wasn't she supposed to marry a vegetative man? How had it turned into him?

Did he know she was the woman from last night? Was this his way of holding her to her promise?

After suppressing her fears and wild guesses, Genevieve mustered the courage to ask, "Are you sure you want to marry me? You don't have someone else you love?"

Ethan widened his eyes, startled by her words.

She was clearly misunderstanding the situation. How awkward.

Tristan let out a cold laugh. His tall frame and frosty expression made his amusement all the more intimidating.

Genevieve clenched her coat nervously. "What are you laughing at?"

"I'm laughing at how naive you are. Why would I ever marry you, the daughter of my enemy? My uncle is the one you're marrying. You will spend the rest of your life by his side, atoning for your sins."

"Your uncle?"

Wait—atoning for her sins? Was his uncle the vegetative man she was supposed to marry?

That wouldn't do. She had already shared such an intimate encounter with him. How could she marry his uncle?

She could marry anyone in the world, but not his uncle.

"I'm sorry, sir, but I can't marry your uncle." Her voice was resolute despite the fear in her heart.

Tristan narrowed his eyes, and his entire demeanor turned menacing.

He lit a cigarette, his expression mocking as he asked, "Why?"

There was no way Genevieve could tell him the truth. If he found out, he would undoubtedly kill her.

She blurted out the first excuse that came to mind, "There's no reason. I just don't want to marry him."

With that, she turned to leave. But before she could take a step, he grabbed her by the collar and effortlessly lifted her off the ground.

"You don't want to marry him? You just can't stand the thought of wasting your life on a comatose man, can you? Let me tell you something. My uncle will never recover. And you—your life will be just as hopeless!"

He tossed her to the ground, then turned to Ethan. "My time is precious. Drag her inside."

Genevieve stared at his imposing figure in shock.

Just now, she saw a trace of killing intent in his eyes.

Chapter 4

"May I see your documents, please?" the staff at the courthouse asked.

Tristan placed Quinton's photo and relevant documents on the counter. Upon seeing Genevieve remain motionless, he said nonchalantly, "You don't have to marry. After all, the Gadot family has more than one daughter."

Genevieve froze. Was he threatening her with her sister?

Her hands twisted the hem of her shirt nervously until the fabric began to tear, but she ultimately had no choice but to hand over her documents obediently.

The only solace she found in this situation was that Quinton was comatose, meaning she wouldn't have to engage in any sort of relationship with him.

"Sir, I'll need to see your documents as well. Otherwise, we can't confirm your authority as a legal representative."

Tristan didn't hesitate, pulling out his ID and handing it over.

Moments later, the two of them walked out of the courthouse.

Unlike other couples, who carried their marriage certificates with joy, the two of them left empty-handed.

The staff explained that the printer was broken, so the certificates couldn't be issued. They asked for an address so they could be mailed later.

Tristan instructed Ethan to leave an address, then grabbed Genevieve by the collar as they stepped outside, warning her fiercely, "From now on, dedicate yourself entirely to caring for my uncle. If you dare have any malicious intentions, I'll end you."

Genevieve was still in a daze.

She was married—she had walked into the courthouse with him only to marry someone else.

Ethan hurried over. "Mr. Burtman, we've received word that the person you've been looking for has been found."

Tristan's gaze darkened. He released her abruptly and strode toward the car.

He couldn't say he liked the woman from last night, but her body… he couldn't seem to forget.

The thought of her left him with a physical reaction every time.

He decided that he would find her and marry her.

"The team said all the surveillance footage from last night at the farmhouse was destroyed, but the timing of Ms. Taylor from the Taylor family's presence there matches perfectly."

Tristan sneered. Lillian must have deliberately destroyed the footage to frame him, claiming he had slept with Marlee instead.

"Mr. Burtman, Ms. Taylor has a clean background and a good reputation, though people say she's rather cold."

"Cold?"

Tristan fiddled with the pendant in his hand, lost in thought.

…

Genevieve had just picked herself up from the ground when her best friend, Heidi Dean, called.

At a cafe, Heidi pounded the table angrily. "That scumbag Mr. Delgado dared to harass you? Next time I see him, I'll kick him where it hurts!"

"Forget it. He's your dad's friend. There's no need to make things awkward because of me."

"How dare my dad introduce someone that sleazy to you? It's a good thing nothing serious happened."

Heidi sipped her coffee and studied Genevieve with curiosity. "By the way, Genny, what happened last night? How did you handle it?"

Genevieve's cheeks flushed. "I… I just took a cold shower. It wasn't a big deal."

Thinking about last night made her recall Tristan, and unease crept into her heart again.

It was no wonder people in Jasfield feared him. His stoic, unsmiling face was like that of the Grim Reaper.

"Oh, Genny, Alexander told me he's been studying construction because he heard you wanted to work on that project site. He's even started working there, though he has to start from the bottom.

"He really likes you. He's an outstanding person yet willing to endure hardship for you. So, do you like him? If you do, you two should just get married already!"

Genevieve stirred her coffee with her spoon and replied calmly, "I don't like him. Besides, I'm already married."

"What?" Heidi's eyes widened. "When did you get married? Who's your husband? Is he handsome? Is he rich? Why didn't you tell me?"

Genevieve gave her a small smile. "Nothing's set in stone yet. I'll tell you once everything's settled."

Even though she had been to the courthouse, this marriage felt surreal, as if it didn't truly exist.

Who knew what the Burtmans would demand of her next?

Before Heidi could press further, Miriam called.

"Genny, I accidentally broke my leg. Come to the Taylor residence as soon as you can."

Chapter 5

A sleek black luxury car drove into the Taylor family courtyard.

Harper's mother, Miley Larsen, frowned. "Whose car is that? How can someone just casually drive into our courtyard?"

Harper, however, stared intently at the man stepping out of the car, her eyes lighting up with delight. "Mom, it's Tristan! It's actually Tristan! Did Dad invite him over?"

"How could that be?" Miley scoffed. "Our family may have money, but the Burtman family is practically legendary in Jasfield. Your father doesn't have the right to summon someone from the Burtman family."

Harper remained silent, her gaze firmly fixed on Tristan.

Miley glanced at her and asked quietly, "Don't tell me you're interested in Tristan?"

"Mom, he's so handsome and charismatic. What woman wouldn't be?"

"But his reputation precedes him—ruthless and cold-blooded. I imagine more women fear him than admire him. And given his background, I doubt he'd look twice at us."

Standing nearby, Miriam interjected, "That's not true. With Ms. Taylor's beauty, Mr. Burtman is sure to like her."

Harper smiled bashfully.

Miley playfully scolded Miriam with a laugh, "You're always flattering her. No wonder she keeps you around."

Miriam chuckled awkwardly, her gaze softening as she looked at Harper.

As they chatted, Tristan strode toward them.

"M-Mr. Burtman, are you here to see my father?" Harper dared not meet his eyes, her voice carrying a hint of shyness.

Tristan sized her up before saying, "I don't know your father. I'm here to see you."

"Me?" She was both startled and delighted.

"After what happened between us last night, didn't you say you'd take responsibility?"

"What... what happened?" Miley gasped. "Take responsibility for what?"

Harper quickly regained her composure and tugged on Miley's sleeve. Then, with a shy smile, she said to Tristan, "So, you recognized me last night. I was planning to keep it to myself—it's a matter of my reputation, and I wasn't sure how you felt about it…"

"I want to marry you. Will you accept?" Tristan asked.

Her eyes sparkled, and she nodded without hesitation. "Yes, of course I will."

He frowned slightly. Her reaction was not what he had expected.

He pulled a pendant from his pocket but didn't open his hand. Instead, he asked, "This is something you left behind last night. Do you remember what it is?"

Her expression faltered.

The truth was, she hadn't been with him last night. How could she possibly know what it was?

No one noticed Miriam staring intently at the red braided string from his hand.

She recognized it instantly. She had made that string for Genevieve herself, using a reverse weaving pattern different from anything sold in stores.

Could it be that the woman with Tristan last night was Genevieve?

That would explain why Genevieve didn't have a red string around her neck today.

"What's wrong? You don't even remember your own belongings?" Tristan's sharp gaze bore into Harper, leaving her no room to hide.

Just as Harper was about to crumble under the pressure, Miriam suddenly grabbed a mop bucket and "accidentally" splashed dirty water all over him.

He stood there, drenched, his face dark as a thundercloud.

Miley immediately scolded, "You useless woman! Did your broken leg affect your hands too? Apologize to Mr. Burtman right now!"

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry... Mr. Burtman, let me wipe it off for you."

Tristan pushed her away with a look of disdain and turned to leave.

Harper quickly grabbed his arm. "Mr. Burtman, it's cold outside, and you're soaked. Why don't you come inside to change into something dry?"

"No need. I have spare clothes in the car."

Without another glance at her, he strode toward his vehicle.

Harper was furious and flustered. She turned on Miriam and unleashed a tirade of insults.

Miriam bit her lip in silence, then forced a smile. "Ms. Taylor, it's a semi-circular pendant with gold trim around the edges and a gemstone in the center."

Harper looked at her in surprise. "How do you know that?"

"Because it belongs to my daughter."

"What?" Harper's voice rose in anger. "Are you saying the woman with Mr. Burtman last night was your daughter? Ha! Your daughter must have incredible luck to end up in his bed!"

"Exactly! You'll probably ride your daughter's coattails to wealth and status soon. Why are you still working as a maid in our house?"

Miriam panicked. "Mrs. Taylor, Ms. Taylor, please don't worry. I won't breathe a word of this to anyone. I only described the pendant's shape because I hope Mr. Burtman ends up with Ms. Taylor. My daughter is nothing—how could she possibly deserve someone like him?"

When Genevieve arrived, she immediately spotted the familiar black luxury car.

How odd. Why was Tristan everywhere she went?

The car door was slightly ajar, and a black wallet had fallen onto the ground below.

She instinctively bent down to pick it up and pulled the car door open to look inside.