Chapter 1

Paige Gabert was the daughter of the Lancaster family's driver.

By all accounts, a woman like her should never have drawn the attention of the Lancasters.

However, three years ago, the family's most beloved youngest son, Reagan Lancaster, was permanently blinded in a car accident. His temperament changed drastically to the point where he shut everyone out, except Paige.

For three years, Paige devoted herself to his care. Out of gratitude, the Lancaster family had little choice but to announce publicly that she was Reagan's fiancée.

Yet, on the day of their engagement, Reagan suddenly regained his vision, forcing the ceremony to a halt.

He raged behind closed doors.

"Now that I've regained my vision, why should I marry a driver's daughter? Has our Lancaster family gone bankrupt?"

His mother, Quinn Norton, felt her heart soar, though her face feigned reluctance.

"Would you have recovered so quickly if not for Paige's devoted care? One mustn't forget gratitude.

"But love can't be forced. Why not spend a little more time together? If it still doesn't work out, you can part ways later. There's no rush."

And so, what should have been a joyous engagement collapsed into a farce.

The Lancaster family told the public that Reagan's eyes had only just recovered and needed delicate care. However, anyone discerning knew the truth—they deemed Paige unworthy of him and tried to force her out quietly.

Yet, even though it was the Lancaster family's scheme, the scorn fell solely on Paige.

"Just a plain girl dreaming above her station. She served Mr. Lancaster for a few years and now dares to dream of climbing the social ladder. What a laughable fantasy."

"Exactly. If marrying into the rich were that easy, I'd want to be reborn as a wealthy family's nanny in my next life."

And at that very moment, as the tide of public opinion turned against her, Paige knelt obediently in Quinn's study, enduring her lecture.

"Feelings can't be forced. Reagan doesn't love you. You won't be happy even if I force him to marry you. In recognition of your devotion to him, though, I'll give you three months. If he changes his mind by then, the wedding will proceed.

"If not, I'll give you a million dollars to end your ties with Reagan. Do we have an agreement?"

Paige kept her gaze lowered, her long lashes veiling the shadows beneath her eyes.

She gave a quiet nod.

As she turned to leave, she heard Quinn's voice. "Reagan's eyesight has only just healed, so he can't drink. Go and bring him back."

Emmanuel Gabert, Paige's father, drove her to the entrance of a bar.

…

Rain poured down outside. When Paige reached for her umbrella, Emmanuel took it from her, explaining, "Mrs. Lancaster said Mr. Lancaster must see you in the rain. That way, he'll feel sorry for you."

The early autumn air carried no warmth. Paige's skin had goosebumps along her arms as the rain landed on her skin in the chilly wind.

"Dad, does it really have to be this way?"

Emmanuel's eyes turned red.

"The Lancaster family once saved your mom's life and gave us a roof over our heads. A debt like that can't be forgotten. I've already handed in my resignation to Mr. Carson. Once it's approved, I'll take you away from here."

Paige's lips curved into a bitter smile. Then, she turned and slipped into the noisy, crowded bar.

The bar's air conditioning was biting, and she shivered the moment she stepped inside. Her gaze quickly found Reagan lounging in the most prominent seat, surrounded by beautiful women, reckless and at ease.

When Paige tried to approach, the women acted as though she were invisible, forming a wall that kept her from getting anywhere near him.

With no other choice, she raised her voice. However, before the words had entirely left her lips, a wine glass came hurtling toward her.

The room fell silent in an instant.

"You scared the hell out of me by yelling like some ghost."

Reagan spared her a fleeting glance, cold and detached. He seemed so distant that it was impossible to reconcile him with the man who had clung to her so tenderly the night before.

Paige lowered her gaze, her voice barely above a whisper. "Your eyes have only just healed. You shouldn't drink so much. Let's go home."

For three beats, the room held its breath. Then, loud and cruel laughter exploded around her.

"Mr. Lancaster, is your nanny running here to keep you in line?" someone sneered.

"I've heard of henpecked husbands, but this is the first time I've seen a nanny doing the henpecking. I can't stop laughing."

"She's dedicated, I'll give her that. Why don't you hand her over, Mr. Lancaster? I wouldn't mind knowing what it feels like to be doted on," another scoffed.

Reagan lounged against the oversized couch, blowing out a stream of smoke, an unreadable smile playing on his face.

"Paige, if you humiliate me here, are you sure you can handle the consequences?"

Noticing her silence, he nudged an unopened bottle of red wine with his foot, sending it rolling until it came to rest at her feet.

"Show me your sincerity," he said. "Then, I'll leave with you."

Paige's hand moved instinctively to her lower abdomen. It was the first day of her period, the day her body always betrayed her with the worst pain.

Over the past three years, every time she had her period, Reagan would tenderly warm her stomach and say, "You take care of me all the time. Now it's my turn to take care of you."

She couldn't fathom why he had turned into a different man the moment his vision returned, but surely, he hadn't erased those memories.

She lifted her eyes, ready to speak, only to catch his gaze.

Reagan's eyes lingered on her hand against her stomach, his lips curving into a mocking, almost cruel smile.

In that instant, Paige understood.

She bent down, picked up the bottle, and pulled the cork free. Then, she tilted her head back and drained the wine in one go.

She drank so cleanly that only the delicate rise and fall of her pale throat was visible. Reagan couldn't tear his eyes away. His tie felt unbearably tight, and his mouth went dry.

The next moment, Paige was hoisted upside down, slung across his shoulder as he strode toward the empty private room next door.

Chapter 2

Paige barely had time to speak before Reagan flipped her, pressing her against the wall. She struggled, but his large hand pinned her wrists firmly above her head.

A dangerous, low voice, laced with a magnetic edge, whispered in her ear. "Paige, are you really this thirsty? You even dared to tease me right here in the open?"

As he spoke, his other hand slid skillfully beneath the hem of her shirt. When it ventured lower, it suddenly brushed against her sanitary pad.

Reagan shuddered and cursed under his breath. "I actually forgot about this."

He dragged Paige to the private room's entrance and gestured to a beautiful woman in the seating area. The woman blushed and hurried over.

The instant the door closed, Paige's face went ghostly pale, almost translucent.

She stiffened, ready to leave, when the door swung open again.

Reagan's lazy voice drifted out. "Buy a dress in your size. I tore hers to pieces."

The door closed again, and teasing, flirtatious laughter came from inside.

The crowd erupted in laughter, their gazes on Paige growing more lecherous by the second.

Someone moved forward, but another shoved him back.

"Did you forget Mr. Lancaster's rules? No one touches any woman he's been with, unless he's explicitly dumped her.”

Paige's face was drained of color. She had steeled herself and knew how cruel Reagan could be, but hearing it aloud still cut deeper than she expected.

The phone rang abruptly.

Quinn's voice was sharp, dripping with fury. "Paige, the three-month arrangement has just begun, and you're already urging your dad to resign? Are you afraid the Lancasters will slight you?

"Mark my words. As long as Reagan doesn't say he'd let you go, even if you die, it'll be in the Lancaster family.

"If you make him angry, I'll have your dad transferred to Serravia instantly. Doesn't he have a heart condition? Guess whether he'll even survive three months!"

Quinn slammed the phone. At that moment, Quinn's and Reagan's cruelty completely shattered their gentle facades.

Paige turned and made her way to the clothing section.

By the time she returned with the garment, Reagan was lounging lazily against the door.

He took the dress from her and tossed it to the woman inside the room. A few moments of rustling later, the woman's delighted voice rang out.

"Mr. Lancaster, it actually fits perfectly!"

Reagan exhaled a stream of smoke.

"Of course. You two have the same figure, and I happen to know her body very well."

He spoke without the slightest restraint, utterly indifferent to Paige's feelings. Naturally, he failed to notice the tender flesh of her palm, broken by her own nails as she clenched her fists tight.

The alluring woman stepped out of the room, flashing Paige a provocative smile. "Ms. Gabert, you're lucky? You've been sleeping with Mr. Lancaster for quite a while."

She swayed her hips as she returned to her seat, drawing laughter from the crowd.

In good spirits, Reagan stubbed out his cigarette and beckoned Paige with a finger. "Come on. I'm feeling generous, so I'll leave you with some dignity and head home with you."

Paige lowered her gaze and stepped forward. Wet from the rain and weakened by her period, her head spun, and the sudden weight on her shoulders nearly toppled her.

A rush of hot breath brushed against her ear.

"Are your shoulders that weak? I don't remember you being this fragile in bed."

Paige bit the tip of her tongue, the metallic tang of blood sharpening her mind. She steadied herself, supporting the feigning half-drunk Reagan as they made their way out.

At the sight of her forced composure, Reagan's playful side flared. He shifted his full weight onto her, and Paige couldn't hold it.

Her foot twisted, and she stumbled straight into a passerby.

Caught off guard, Reagan went down with her. A passing bartender was caught in the chaos, his tray tipping as liquor splashed over them.

Squinting, Reagan gritted his teeth. "Who the hell bumped into me?"

A flash of fury ignited when his eyes landed on the man standing nearby. He leaped up, grabbed the man by the collar, slammed him to the ground, and unleashed a storm of blows.

It was only then that Paige saw clearly that the man being beaten was a former friend from Reagan's circle.

The two had once planned a street race, during which the other man's car lost control and crashed into Reagan. The man had walked away unscathed, but Reagan landed in a coma for half a month and woke up blind.

Knowing Reagan's temper, the man had never dared to apologize. Recently, the man planned to flee overnight after hearing that Reagan's eyesight had returned. However, that was when they ran into each other.

Reagan had thoroughly vented his anger. It was only after his friend had dragged him that Reagan finally rose to his feet.

Seeing Paige cowering silently to the side, he narrowed his eyes in displeasure. "How could you watch your man fight instead? What's up? Are you hoping he's beaten to death so you can crawl into someone else's bed?"

Paige twitched the corner of her mouth and glanced back at the man sprawled on the ground, his face bruised and battered. Just as she was about to look away, she noticed his hand reaching for a nearby bottle.

She tried to dodge, but her foot slipped. She toppled onto Reagan's back, taking the full force of the bottle.

It slammed into the back of her head, causing her to become unconscious.

Chapter 3

When Paige woke again, she was met with Reagan's mocking gaze.

"Paige, you really are cunning, aren't you? You even used such a trick to cling to me. Let me make this clear: I won't fall for it!

"You took care of me for three years, and the Lancaster family supported your useless dad for three years. That's fair. Don't delude yourself into wanting what's not yours."

With that, he walked away, utterly indifferent to her pale face and the tears trembling in her eyes.

Reagan had barely left when Quinn arrived. She saw Paige, seemingly unharmed but with a bandage wrapped around her head, and slapped her across the face.

"Bitch, I told you to bring Reagan home, yet you made a scene. What's up? You can't survive without Reagan? You must've staged this yourself. How did you even think of it?"

Paige, still dazed from the concussion caused by the bottle, felt her mind swim as Quinn's slap landed again.

Her gaze fell on the phone Quinn had thrown onto the bed. A video played, showing her collapsing after taking the bottle for Reagan. The caption even read, "She saves her husband for love, which dispels the Lancaster couple breakup rumors."

However, the top comments painted another picture. They accused Paige of staging the entire scene just to cling to Reagan. They also added that the man being beaten had already confessed that it was Paige who told him what to do.

"Ms. Gabert promised me three million dollars once she marries into a wealthy family," he had claimed.

Quinn laughed mockingly, her chin raised high in arrogance.

"I gave you a chance, but you blew it. Your incompetence leaves me with no choice. Take your phone and issue a statement. Confess everything."

Paige gripped the bedsheet, her knuckles white. After a moment, she lifted her eyes. "So, if I post the statement as instructed, you'll let my dad and me leave earlier?"

Quinn sneered. "Paige, what are you thinking? I said three months, and every single second counts."

Paige handed over her phone, showing Quinn the edited statement.

Quinn studied her calm expression and smiled in satisfaction. "Paige, sometimes I can't help but admire how clever you are. But it's useless. You come from such a lowly background. Only status decides everything in this world."

With that, she turned to leave and nearly ran into Emmanuel, who was walking toward her. For once, she smiled at him.

"Emmanuel, you've raised a fine daughter."

After Quinn left, Emmanuel's eyes were red. "Are you okay?"

Paige nodded her head with a smile, about to speak, but a flash of concern crossed her eyes when she saw Emmanuel furrow his brow and pound his knee.

Three years ago, when Reagan woke and discovered he was blind, he was furious. He demanded Emmanuel drive him to confront the friend who had raced him.

On the way, Reagan suddenly went berserk and tried to grab the steering wheel. To save him, Emmanuel yanked the wheel sharply to the right. Reagan escaped without a scratch, but Emmanuel's leg was pinned for so long that it sustained permanent damage.

He now walked with a slight limp, unable to manage long distances, and had to avoid situations where it was cold or damp.

Emmanuel had tendered his resignation by then, but Carson Lancaster had refused it.

"You're still young," Carson had said. "What else can you do if you resign? Stay, and I'll take care of you and Paige."

Emmanuel was moved to tears. True to his word, Carson assigned him only light duties, and only he could instruct Emmanuel with orders.

However, that rainy night, when Quinn sent Emmanuel to escort Paige to the bar, it was a deliberate reprimand for the father and daughter.

As the matriarch of the Lancaster family, Quinn wielded unquestioned authority over everyone in the household.

Paige bit her lip. Could she really survive three more months like this?

During those three years, she had never once thought of leaving. She believed she was doomed to rot in the mire Reagan had so carefully trapped her in, so she endured in silence.

…

However, at the engagement ceremony, Reagan's blatant disdain gave Paige a glimmer of hope. He hated her enough that he would surely be the first to cast her out.

Even Quinn had said that she could finally be free in three months.

Yet, what Paige hadn't realized was that waiting with hope could be far more agonizing than dying in despair. She couldn't stay passive. She had to find a way to save herself and Emmanuel and leave as soon as possible.

However, she never expected that her chance would come so quickly.

Chapter 4

Reagan's first love, Britney Meyer, had returned to the country.

Years ago, when she suddenly broke up with him and left abroad, Reagan had recklessly agreed to a street race with his friends. It was something he had never been good at, and it ended with him blind for three long years.

Others might not have known, but Paige did.

Reagan had never let Britney go. When fever left him delirious and muttering in his sleep, the name on his lips had always been hers way too many times.

So, after Britney's welcome banquet, when he called Paige to pick him up, she deliberately marked her own neck with hickeys before setting out.

The moment she stepped out of the car, she saw him outside the Meyer residence, pinning Britney against the wall. He brushed his fingers over her earlobe, and under his teasing touch, her cheeks bloomed with a faint blush.

Just as Britney tilted her head back, her eyes about to close, Paige stepped in at the worst possible moment. She slid an arm around the slightly tipsy Reagan and murmured gently, "It's time to go home."

Reagan turned, giving Paige a long, meaningful glance. Then, almost submissively, he rested his chin on her head, the gesture carrying a subtle, teasing intimacy.

"You're finally here."

Paige ignored the fury blazing in Britney's eyes. She offered her a nod. Then, she lifted her hair and swept it over one shoulder. The pale curve of her neck revealed a blatant, intimate mark.

Britney's pupils shrank. For a split second, the scene that the mark hinted at flashed vividly in her mind. Her fury ignited. Her teeth clenched as her eyes burned into Paige's retreating figure.

Britney finally snapped as Reagan and Paige disappeared into the car, which lurched violently. A raw scream tore from her throat.

Inside the car, Reagan's slap sent Paige crashing into the door with such force that the metallic tang of blood filled her mouth.

"Paige, your cleverness only makes me look like an idiot," he hissed.

Reagan ignored the blood at the corner of her mouth. Lounging on the leather couch, he stared at the mark on Paige's neck, amusement flickering in his eyes.

"Britney is extremely petty, so you'd better be careful. I won't save you when the time comes."

Paige swallowed the blood, lifted her chin, and met his gaze.

"I'm willing to be your wingman and help you win back Britney as quickly as possible. In return, can you let my dad and me go?"

Reagan let out a derisive laugh, his gaze on her dripping with condescension, as if she were utterly clueless. "Paige, you know too many of my secrets. How could I ever let you go? Don't you worry, though. If I ever marry, I'll see to it that you and that useless dad of yours are taken care of."

A moment later, his phone rang. Seeing the name flashing on the screen, he raised his brows slightly and answered lazily. "Got it."

He ordered the driver to stop and shoved Paige out, after which the car spun around and disappeared into the night.

Paige walked home bathed in moonlight, her thoughts drifting back to Reagan ten years ago. At that time, he had been the school's shining star—handsome, brilliant, well-born, and kind-hearted, with a sunny disposition.

Not a single girl could resist him, yet the only one he had ever favored was Paige, his little sidekick.

However, that once-vivid image of a pure, youthful Reagan wavered and dissolved in her memory, leaving Paige with a frown.

When did Reagan begin to change?

It must have been the moment everyone discovered that Quinn had clawed her way into the Lancaster family as the mistress.

In other words, he was technically an illegitimate child.

The scandal shattered Reagan. For years, he recoiled from every hand extended in kindness. And by the time he managed to stitch himself back together, he was no longer the same person.

He had become what he was now—violent, darkly brooding, cynical, drifting through life as if it were nothing more than a game.

Eventually, he fell in love with Britney, completely abandoning Paige, the girl he had once cherished.

Paige walked back alone. Just as she reached the Lancaster residence's gates, she spotted Emmanuel's car pulling out. She rushed forward to stop him.

"Dad, your leg hasn't been well these past few days. Where's Mr. Carson? Let me pick him up instead."

Emmanuel smiled faintly. "Don't worry. I'll drive slowly. The other drivers are tied up, and I happened to be free."

She opened her mouth to protest, but he waved her off. "I'll be back soon. Head inside quickly."

Paige stared after the car as it slowly disappeared, a persistent unease tightening in her chest.

…

A nightmare jolted her awake later that night.

Instinctively, she got out of bed and headed to Emmanuel's room, only to find it empty. By then, it had been four hours since he left to pick up Carson.

Growing increasingly anxious, she called Emmanuel repeatedly, and it wasn't until the third attempt that someone finally answered.

Before she could speak, a stranger's voice came through.

"Are you the patient's family? He's been in a severe car accident and is undergoing emergency treatment at First People's Hospital—"

Chapter 5

When Paige arrived at the hospital, the police were already there. They pulled her aside to take her statement once they learned she was Emmanuel's family.

However, the more she heard, the more it didn't add up.

What did they mean Emmanuel had been the only one in the car?

What did they mean he had driven aimlessly for four hours in the middle of the night instead of coming home?

And what did they mean he hadn't even touched the brakes when the car lost control?

The blood drained from Paige's face. At that moment, the light above the operating room flicked off. She looked desperately at the doctor who emerged from the room, only to see him shake his head.

Her world caved in.

The doctor pulled down his mask and explained, "The deceased's knee had an old injury. He shouldn't have stood or sat for long stretches. Otherwise, blood congestion could cause temporary paralysis and stiffness. The deceased didn't hit the brakes. That was most likely the cause of death."

The police officer's brows knit together as he shot Paige a reproachful look. "You were his family. Don't tell me you didn't know about his knee condition?"

Seeing that Paige remained silent, the doctor understood immediately. "How irresponsible. If he had crashed into someone else—"

Before he could finish, Paige was already rushing out the door.

Trembling, she called Carson, desperate to get an explanation of what had actually happened.

At that moment, Quinn's threats, Reagan's contempt—none of it mattered anymore. She only wanted the truth.

She had been obedient, compliant, and had done everything they demanded. So, why did the Lancaster family still have to destroy Emmanuel after all that?

A moment later, the call connected. Carson's groggy voice came through the line, and Paige froze.

"Mr. Carson, you were sleeping? My dad has passed away."

…

Carson arrived at the hospital soon after, his expression grim. "Make yourself clear, when did I ever tell Emmanuel to come pick me up?"

Paige quickly recounted her exchange with Emmanuel earlier that evening before her emotions broke loose.

"If it wasn't for your orders, why would he have gone out at midnight? He only ever followed your instructions, didn't he?"

Her words faltered. The truth was, others in the Lancaster family could have commanded him as well.

Catching the shift in her expression, Carson pulled out his phone and instructed someone to investigate what had really happened that night.

A nurse hurried over and pressed a phone into Paige's hand. "This belonged to the deceased. Someone's been calling nonstop."

Paige snatched it up. The moment she answered, her face drained to a ghastly white.

Britney's arrogant voice crackled through the line. "If you don't hurry over, I'll have to call your precious daughter. What a poor thing. The wound on her head hasn't even healed, and now she has to go through all this chaos."

Paige's chest tightened with pain. She shouted into the receiver, "Britney Meyer! You're the one who forced my dad to go out!"

There was a two-second silence on the other end of the line.

Britney, clearly not expecting Paige to answer, snapped in irritation, "I waited at the door for several minutes, and your dad never showed? Paige, you'd better get over here immediately, or—"

"My dad… is dead."

Paige's voice trembled. "He died in a car accident! Are you satisfied now?"

A burst of curses crackled through the phone.

Paige distinctly heard Britney snarl, "Damn it. What bad luck do I have? I barely returned, and my parents will probably ship me off again. Reagan…"

Carson's expression darkened, his expression downright terrifying. He had clearly heard every word. "You are supposed to be Reagan's fiancee. What the hell was he doing with Britney in the middle of the night?"

Paige dropped her gaze, her voice breaking. "When Reagan regained his vision, he wanted nothing more to do with our engagement. Mrs. Lancaster decided I wasn't worthy of him either. My dad and I tried to leave, but Mrs. Lancaster wouldn't allow it.

"If we had gotten away sooner, he never would've had that accident… I still don't understand why Mrs. Lancaster won't let me off the hook."

Carson let out a cold laugh.

Others might not see it, but he knew his so-called "good wife" all too well.

"Of course, it's all about her reputation, for the world to think she's magnanimous, virtuous, kind," he explained. Everyone knows you devoted three years of your life to care for Reagan.

"If you had walked away from the Lancaster family the moment his eyesight returned, people would call her calculating—someone who uses others and discards them once they've served their purpose.

"I should never have listened to her back then. I never should have brought her into the Lancaster family just to spare Reagan from being mocked as a bastard."

Paige suddenly understood.

No wonder Quinn had flown into a rage when Emmanuel tried to resign. She had been hiding her schemes from Carson all along.

…

After locking the hospital room door and pulling the curtains tight, Paige turned her back to Carson and slipped off her clothes.

Carson's pupils narrowed sharply as his gaze fell on Paige's back, densely covered with scars, each one stark and jarring to the eye.

After dressing up, she turned to face him. "You understand it now, don't you? Why Reagan only listen to me during those three years? It was because I was obedient, compliant, and beneath him.

"When he lost his eyesight, his mind twisted. He couldn't bear anyone else witnessing his madness, so he took it out on me. His mood would improve once he vented his rage. Then, he'd take his medicine."

Carson's chest heaved unevenly. "You could have refused. You could have come to me—"

However, before he could finish, Paige dropped to her knees with a heavy thud. "No, Mr. Carson. I don't want to dwell on the past. My only wish now is for you to let my dad and me leave. And please… don't let Reagan or Mrs. Lancaster know about this."