Chapter 1

Winona Nander was known in her circle for her untamed, radiant charm.

She'd watched lions bare their teeth on the Alencan savannah, danced until dawn in the underground clubs of Bolund, and switched boyfriends as casually as changing outfits. There was hardly a reckless thing she hadn't done.

But fate had other plans. She was arranged to marry Caleb Solt, the most disciplined and restrained gentleman in their circle.

At their first meeting, Winona deliberately arrived five hours late, determined to put him in his place. But her father's men dragged her straight out of a bar and delivered her to an exclusive teahouse.

When she arrived, Caleb was seated by the window, quietly sipping tea. Afternoon light filtered through the lattice, tracing soft shadows across his refined profile. He sat with calm grace, as if he had been waiting not for five hours, but mere minutes.

Frank Nander looked embarrassed as he nudged Winona forward. "Sorry, Caleb. It took us some time to make her presentable."

Caleb's gaze drifted past Winona and settled on her ankle, reddened from the strain of high heels.

Settling down his teacup, he rose and fetched a brand-new pair of soft-soled slippers. Under everyone's shocked gaze, he crouched before her.

After removing her torturous heels, he slipped the comfortable slippers onto her feet. He didn't forget to retrieve a Band-Aid and carefully placed it over the blister on her heel.

When everyone was done, he got to his feet and gazed at Frank, his voice calm. "Mr. Nander, my fiancee doesn't need to be presentable."

Turning to Winona, his deep eyes seemed to hold the vastness of a starry sky. "She just needs to be herself."

In that moment, Winona heard her heart pounding wildly.

She knew she was done for.

The wildest, most untamed wind had fallen for a mountain that seemed immovable.

It was only after their marriage that Winona finally understood what it meant to be living in restraint.

Caleb lived like a precisely programmed machine—waking at 7:00 am, sleeping at 11:00 pm, eating each meal at the same time and in the same amount. He even scheduled intimacy for the 15th and 30th of each month. His meticulousness drove Winona mad.

She tried everything to stir his emotions. This included a series of incidents—losing her license after a speeding ticket, starting a public argument at an auction, and intentionally making the daughter of a disliked business partner burst into tears.

She tried seducing him by wandering around his study in her sexiest nightwear, deliberately straddling his lap to cause a scene during his meetings, and teasing him by blowing softly in his ear.

Yet, no matter what she did, Caleb's handsome face remained utterly expressionless.

She had never seen any trace of ordinary emotions—joy, anger, jealousy, or even helplessness—on his face.

One day, Winona set fire to a cafe she despised and was promptly taken to the police station.

She sat idly on the bench, bored out of her mind, until steady footsteps approached from outside.

Cleared quickly by his bodyguards, a man in a sharp black suit entered. He possessed an intense, almost searing authority that compelled everyone to keep their distance.

He walked straight to her and extended his hand. "It's settled. Let's go home."

Winona remained seated, tilting her head back to look up at him. Her eyes carried a faint, almost imperceptible flicker of hope. "Caleb, why is your expression always the same, no matter what you're dealing with? Can't you smile?"

Caleb looked at her. "Do you think this is funny?"

"Are you mad I caused trouble again? Will you punish me?" With a seductive gaze, she finally rose from the bench. She deliberately reached for his hand and firmly placed it on her hip.

Caleb's gaze remained calm, his breathing steady. "This is hardly worth punishing. Even if you raise hell, I could handle it."

Winona felt a surge of fury constricting her chest, nearly unable to speak. "Aren't you going to ask why I set the cafe on fire? I'll tell you why! Someone ogled me and tried to harass me! Look, he even touched my hand! Aren't you at least a little jealous?"

Caleb's gaze lingered on her hand for a moment, his expression still unreadable. "Next time something like this happens, just have the bodyguards handle it."

Winona clenched her jaw, her anger rising at how stubborn he was. "Caleb, you clueless old man! You're boring and stubborn!"

Hearing her words, Caleb replied solemnly, "You're only 24, and I'm five years older than you, so yes, I am a bit old."

A wave of fury crashed through Winona. He was always the same. Every time she gave her all to stir things up, it felt like punching a pillow, with nothing but helplessness bouncing back at her.

Wordless with rage, she yanked her hand free from his attempt to hold it and stormed ahead into the waiting Cullinan.

Caleb followed her into the car and instructed his chauffeur, Wesley Sinclair, "Back to the mansion."

The car was about to drive away when Winona suddenly cut in. "Wait. Get out for a while and come back later."

Wesley glanced at Caleb through the rearview mirror.

Caleb gave a slight nod, so Wesley hastily got out of the car and hurried away.

"What do you want?" Caleb gazed at her.

Winona inched nearer, her deft fingers sliding to his waist to unbuckle his expensive belt. A sly smile lit her lips. "Mr. Solt, have you been so busy that you forgot that today is the 15th, the day we're supposed to have sex?"

Caleb's gaze lingered on the bustling street outside the window, his voice calm as ever. "You want to do it here in the car?"

"Can't we?" Winona teased, giving him a sultry look as her fingertips traced circles over his tense muscles. "Isn't it good to stimulate an old machine like you?"

Caleb looked at her silently for a few seconds, his gaze dark.

Without another word, he lifted a hand to cup the back of her neck and bent down to kiss her.

His kiss carried his signature scent, cool and intense.

Winona responded with ferocious force, trying to ignite his desire. Her nails raked across his back as a sultry murmur escaped her lips by his ear. She was using every tantalizing, teasing trick she knew.

Alas, no matter how hard she tried, he remained the most precise musician following a set composition; his breathing did not even falter in the slightest.

Winona was about to give up when Caleb's phone, left aside, rang suddenly.

He froze in mid-action and reached for his phone.

Winona had no idea what was said on the other end, but Caleb's eternally calm expression suddenly shifted. Though it was only a faint frown and a slight darkening of his eyes, to her, it was nothing short of earth-shattering.

He pulled away and smoothed his slightly disheveled clothes.

"Winnie, I have something else to take care of. You should leave."

Winona's eyes widened in disbelief. "Caleb! I haven't…"

"Behave," he interrupted, his tone softening slightly yet still distant. "I'll make it up to you later."

He then pushed the door on her side open, signaling her to get out.

Winona trembled with rage as she watched him slip into the driver's seat and start the engine. The black vehicle shot off like an arrow, leaving her standing by the curb in front of the police station.

"Caleb Solt, you clueless bastard!" she screamed, stomping her foot.

Yet, a strong sense of unwillingness and curiosity rose deep within her.

What kind of billion-dollar project would make him lose composure and walk away from someone as beautiful as her?

She immediately hailed a cab and gave the cab driver Caleb's car license plate number. "Follow that Cullinan ahead!"

The car sped all the way and came to a stop in front of a bar named Maze.

Winona was stunned. Caleb never touched a drop of alcohol. He was damningly self-disciplined. What on earth was he doing here?

She paid her fare, quickly exited the cab, and began sneakily following him.

At the bar entrance, she spotted a young woman in a white dress being harassed by a few drunkards. The woman's face had gone pale with fear as she stumbled backward, trying to get away.

Following that, a scene that would forever be seared into Winona's memory unfolded right in front of her eyes.

Chapter 2

The always composed and disciplined Caleb suddenly lunged forward, driving his foot hard into the stomach of the leading thug.

He unleashed a flurry of punches and kicks, his usual calm elegance completely gone. His movements were raw, almost primal, his eyes blazing with a fierce menace Winona had never seen before.

The thugs were quickly overwhelmed, screaming and begging as they fled in panic.

Caleb didn't bother going after them. Instead, he turned sharply to check on the young woman. "Did you get hurt?"

The woman looked up, her reddened eyes glaring at him. "Caleb Solt! You said you wouldn't get involved with me anymore. Why are you even here?"

Without a word, Caleb wrapped his arms tightly around her.

Still visibly angry, the woman struggled against him. Then, tilting her head, she bit down on his neck.

Winona watched as Caleb winced in pain, yet his arms around the woman didn't loosen.

He looked down at her, and in his eyes, Winona saw something she had never witnessed before—a storm of pain, sorrow, helplessness, and an overwhelming, inescapable depth of affection.

Rooted to the spot, Winona felt a chill crawl from her feet to the top of her head, freezing every muscle in her body.

In just 15 minutes, she had seen a torrent of emotions on his face—anxiety, fury, tension, pain, sorrow, love, and deep affection—emotions she had never been able to stir in him, no matter how hard she tried.

All the feelings she longed for but could never claim surged forth, directed entirely at the woman in his arms.

That rigid, silent iceberg, frozen for years, had erupted violently for another woman.

What was Winona to him, then?

She didn't know how long she stood there, surrounded by rowdy music and hazy lights. It wasn't until Caleb carefully escorted the woman out of the bar that she felt as though she had awakened from a nightmare.

Her hand trembled as she pulled out her phone, texting her well-connected childhood friend and attaching the photo she had hurriedly snapped earlier. "Find out who she is, and what her relationship with Caleb Solt is."

By the time she arrived home in a daze, her friend had already sent the information.

Sitting on the couch, Winona read slowly. With every line, her heart sank deeper into an icy pit until her heart felt torn apart and crushed.

The woman was Miranda Granger, Caleb's junior by two years in university.

Back then, she had pursued Caleb relentlessly, enduring countless hardships before finally winning his heart.

Once they began dating, Caleb became a different man. He would skip important meetings to drive across half the city just because she wanted a cake from the west side. He booked an entire amusement park for her birthday, opening it just for her. He carried her on his back down long tree-lined paths whenever she pouted.

Everyone who knew Caleb said he had finally come alive, brimming with energy and vitality.

But when they were madly in love, the Solt family looked down on Miranda's ordinary background and fiercely opposed their relationship. To everyone's shock, Caleb gave up his inheritance and eloped with her.

They kissed passionately beneath sunlit, snow-capped mountains, watched the sunrise hand in hand at a lakeside inn in Erhal, and galloped freely across the vast Galburn Desert in the northwest. He joined her in every reckless, wildly romantic escapade. Their love story became a whispered legend among their circle.

In the end, the Solt family's men found him and dragged him back.

His family used Miranda's life and safety as leverage to force him into submission, warning that if he refused an arranged marriage with a family of equal standing, she would be in danger.

He had no choice but to submit.

That was why he waited for Winona at the teahouse for five whole hours.

That was why he bent down to help her change into slippers, telling her his fiancee only needed to be herself.

It wasn't because Winona was special to him. He simply wanted to marry quickly, to appease his family and protect the woman he truly loved.

Winona shivered, as though stripped bare and thrown into the snow, every pore filled with biting cold and despair.

She could accept that he was cold and rigid by nature. She was willing to wait patiently, to warm him slowly in her own way.

But she couldn't accept that all his warmth and emotions belonged to someone else. To him, she was nothing more than a tool to shield his beloved.

As a Nander, she had lived freely and boldly for 24 years. Why should she become a stepping stone for him to save his beloved?

Her love wasn't that cheap.

That very night, Caleb didn't come home.

…

The next day, Winona waited until daylight filled the sky before heading to the bathroom at 9:00 am. Before the mirror, she carefully applied her finest makeup and slipped into a dazzling red dress. Then she drove to Nander Mansion for the monthly family gathering.

When she arrived, Frank immediately noticed she was alone and frowned. "Where is Caleb? Why isn't he here? Did you cause trouble and upset him again?"

He pointed at Winona, his tone sharp with frustration. "Look at you—married to a great husband, yet still unsatisfied! Caleb is capable, handsome, and even indulges you. If I'd known you'd be this ungrateful, I would have had Cecilia marry him instead! What a waste of a perfectly good match!"

Winona's gaze swept across the living room, landing on her mother, Martha Patterson.

Martha was doting on Winona's younger sister, Cecilia Nander, asking whether she was tired from her new job at the company and piling her plate high with her favorite food.

That kind of genuine, natural affection was something Winona hadn't felt in years. She gave a cold snort, cutting off Frank's tirade. "Good, then."

Everyone turned to stare at her.

Winona lifted her chin proudly. Despite the pain tearing through her, she kept her composure. "I came here today to tell you that I want a divorce. Tell the Solt family to finalize it as soon as possible."

Chapter 3

The living room fell silent instantly.

Frank and Martha exchanged a look of shock.

"What did you just say?"

"I said, I want to divorce Caleb," Winona repeated slowly.

At once, Frank slammed the table in anger. "Nonsense! You're becoming more outrageous by the day! With a family like the Solts and a man like Caleb, what could you possibly be unhappy about?"

Martha chimed in, listing all of Caleb's virtues.

Winona merely listened, her face devoid of emotion.

Seeing her stubbornness, Frank nearly choked on his rage. He grabbed the teacup on the table and hurled it to the ground.

"If I don't teach you a lesson, you'll never know your place! Someone, drag Winona to the punishment room and discipline her until she agrees to stay married!"

Two household staff stepped forward and seized Winona.

In the punishment room, the icy rod struck her back and legs repeatedly, each blow searing with pain.

She clenched her teeth, cold sweat streaming down her carefully made-up face. Her red dress darkened, stained with blood.

"Tell me, do you still want a divorce?" Frank demanded.

"Yes." Winona's voice trembled from the pain, yet it rang startlingly clear.

The rod fell again.

"Do you still want a divorce?"

"Yes!"

…

After countless blows, Winona was on the verge of blacking out. Barely conscious, she still forced the words through clenched teeth. "I want a divorce…"

Frank trembled with rage. "You insist on a divorce, huh? Fine, then give me a reason! How has Caleb wronged you?"

Winona lifted her head abruptly, her face streaked with sweat and blood, yet her eyes remained sharp and unwavering. "Because he doesn't love me! He loves someone else, alright? I'm not some beggar who'll settle for just anyone!"

She expected her parents to look shocked or furious. Instead, after a brief silence, Frank and Martha exchanged guilty glances.

Martha sighed. "Y-You found out about it?"

Winona felt her heart shatter, the pain nearly stealing her breath.

They knew?

They knew Caleb was in love with someone else.

That was why they married her off—the eldest daughter they no longer cherished was sacrificed to Caleb. They never failed to remind Winona that she was living a life that rightly belonged to her sister, Cecilia, and that she must be forever grateful for the opportunity Cecilia missed.

A soft, broken laugh escaped her lips, slowly rising and building into a loud, bitterly sorrowful, self-mocking sound.

When she was little, her parents doted on her.

Later, when they asked if she wanted a younger sibling, she innocently replied, "If I have a brother or sister, would you still love me the way you do now?"

Their answer had been, "Of course. You'll always be our darling."

But everything changed after Cecilia was born.

They always told her, "Winnie, you're older, so you need to put Cecilia first."

Her toys, her room, her parents' attention and love—all were taken away bit by bit until nothing remained.

That was why she became arrogant, defiant, and reckless, causing trouble wherever she went—not out of malice, but simply to be noticed, even if only to be scolded, the way they fussed over Cecilia.

Looking back, it all seemed like a cruel joke.

"Why are you laughing?" Frank snapped, irritated by her laughter.

Winona was about to reply when a timid voice came from the staircase. "Dad, Mom, stop forcing Winona."

It was Cecilia, descending slowly in an ivory-white dress.

"Ceci, why are you downstairs? You're not needed here. Go rest," Martha said quickly, her voice full of worry.

Cecilia shook her head and walked over to Frank. She spoke softly, "Dad, Mom, since Winona wants a divorce, just let her be. I actually quite like Mr. Solt, so I'm all for it for their divorce."

Frank and Martha exchanged a look, doubt and contemplation flickering across their faces.

Winona felt as though her heart had been stabbed again, blood gushing from the wound.

She had endured hundreds of blows without swaying her parents, yet Cecilia's casual remark carried unbelievable weight.

Cecilia turned to Winona, her eyes clear, though a faint trace of ambition lingered in her voice. "Maybe Winona just isn't enough to win Mr. Solt's heart. If I step in, things could be different. After their divorce, I'll do everything I can to capture his attention."

Silence ensued.

Moments later, Frank sighed heavily. "Fine. Since you've made up your mind, we won't stop you. We'll head to the Solt family to discuss the divorce."

He waved, signaling the household staff to release Winona. "Go back and wait for our news. Don't linger here and upset us further."

The entire scene felt absurd to Winona.

She forced her aching body to stand, unsteady but resolute. Gazing at her family, she flashed a mocking yet dejected smile. "Don't worry. I'll never come back to this house again."

Frank and Martha looked visibly startled.

"What do you mean?" Frank demanded angrily.

"I mean it literally." Winona stood tall, her words cutting. "I can survive without a husband, without my parents, and without my sister. This divorce is the last thing I'll ever ask of you. From now on, consider me dead."

Chapter 4

After saying that, Winona didn't so much as glance at them as she dragged her wounded body away.

Summoning the last of her strength, she drove herself to the hospital.

After wounds were dressed, she remained there drowsily for a few days.

On the day she was discharged, Caleb called. "There's a business party tonight. I need you to be my plus one."

Winona was about to refuse when Caleb seemed to read her mind and cut her off. "You must come. I have something to tell you."

Gripping her phone, Winona fell silent for a few seconds before flashing an icy smile. "Fine."

She was curious to see what else he could say.

The party was held in a five-star hotel ballroom, filled with the scent of fine perfume, stylishly dressed guests, and the clinking of glasses.

Winona showed up in a floor-length, backless gown of striking sapphire blue, her makeup flawless.

Her radiant, captivating look quickly drew admiring glances from many men.

Winona, already used to the attention, ignored them all.

Just then, a suit jacket carrying the scent of cedar was draped over her bare shoulders.

Caleb had appeared by her side without her noticing. "I remember you loathe gowns and heels. What happened?"

He paused, then continued, "I told you that you can be yourself with me. Even if you showed up in pajamas and slippers, no one would dare say anything."

Winona's body froze. His words immediately transported her back to the teahouse where they first met, the man kneeling to help her slip into slippers. What once made her heart flutter now felt like the cruelest irony.

She shrugged off the expensive suit jacket, letting it fall to the floor, and lifted her chin, a teasing, self-mocking smile playing on her lips. "Are you joking, Mr. Solt? Why would I hide my curves in pajamas? Look at those men openly admiring me. Consider it my good deed for the day."

Another man might have simmered with jealousy after hearing his wife say that at a public event. But Caleb remained calm. He bent to retrieve his suit jacket, draping it over his arm. Then, glancing at her, he changed the subject.

"You sent your father to my house to talk about divorce? Is this your way of acting out because we didn't have sex in the car that day?"

Winona felt as if an ice pick had stabbed her heart, making her shiver in pain.

She laughed coldly. "Acting out? Caleb, do you think the world revolves around you? Can't I want a divorce for real?"

Caleb stared at her calmly, his dark gaze seemingly reading her mind.

His voice was quiet but certain. "No. You're in love with me, so you won't want a divorce."

Winona narrowed her eyes in shock, feeling as though her heart had been crushed. The pain sent her reeling.

It turned out he had known all along that she was in love with him.

For years, she had endured joy, sorrow, love, hatred, and struggle alone, refusing to give up. In the end, it was her own chaos—a one-woman show.

As for Caleb, he simply watched her futile struggle from a distance, devoid of emotion.

Overwhelmed by shame and heartache, she shivered violently. She dug her fingers hard into her palms just to keep herself composed.

She was about to retort, "Just you wait!" when she noticed Caleb's gaze locked intently on a corner of the ballroom.

Winona followed his gaze, and her heart sank again.

It was Miranda, wearing a white gown and looking every bit like a princess, laughing and chatting with a gentleman in a casual suit.

Caleb's gaze remained fixed on Miranda, and an unmistakable coldness radiated from him, sharp enough to be felt.

For the rest of the party, Miranda remained steadfastly by that man's side.

They danced, speaking in hushed voices. The man said something that made Miranda cover her mouth and giggle. She then suddenly stood on tiptoes and pressed a quick kiss to the man's cheek.

A sharp, sudden crack echoed through the air.

Winona whirled around and saw that Caleb had completely crushed the champagne glass he was holding.

Shards of glass sliced into his palm, blood mixing with the spilled champagne, yet he barely flinched, his eyes locked on Miranda. The intensity in his gaze was terrifying. Winona had never seen him consumed by such jealousy and rage.

Caleb quickly discarded the shattered glass and grabbed Winona's wrist, dragging her out of the ballroom.

"Caleb, what are you doing? Release me!"

Winona staggered as he pulled her, wincing as a sharp pain shot through her wrist.

Caleb ignored her and led her to an open-air balcony connected to the ballroom, his expression frighteningly dark.

"Caleb, are you nuts? What do you want?"

Shoved against the cold railing, Winona bristled in shock and anger.

Caleb said nothing. His gaze was feral, completely bloodshot. He seemed like a completely different person.

With a swift, brutal movement, he flipped the hem of her gown and yanked her flimsy underwear down, then barged into her without warning or a shred of foreplay.

Chapter 5

The sudden intrusion made Winona gasp in pain. Her eyes widened in disbelief as she cursed, "You bastard! Let me go! Someone will show up any second!"

Caleb seemed to have lost all reason. His grip on her waist was vice-like, every thrust deep and heavy. His voice was hoarse as he growled, "Don't move. I'll make it up to you for our interrupted session back then."

Winona could barely breathe from his thrusts. Pain tore through her body, and her chest felt so tight that it was as if all the air had been stolen from her; it felt like Caleb was branding his anguish into her bones and her heart through this violent intrusion.

Just then, the handle of the balcony's glass door twisted from the outside.

A moment later, the door creaked open, revealing a narrow gap.

Under the dim light, Miranda's face appeared pale with shock.

She gazed at the entangled couple on the balcony, her eyes locking on Winona, whose clothes were disheveled beneath Caleb. Covering her mouth, Miranda's eyes reddened with devastation before she turned and fled the scene.

However, Caleb didn't stop. He merely stared in the direction Miranda had gone, his gaze filled with pain, reluctance, and complicated emotions that Winona couldn't even begin to comprehend.

Winona felt as though a bucket of ice water had been poured over her, drenching her from head to toe.

She finally understood everything.

After witnessing Miranda kiss another man, Caleb had completely lost control. Blinded by jealousy, he used Winona's body to lash out, hoping to hurt Miranda and make her feel the same burning envy that consumed him.

Could this truly be Caleb—the man who was always calm, disciplined, and composed?

What did he think Winona was? A tool to provoke his beloved? Someone to humiliate publicly just to vent his anger?

Did he think she was a prostitute?

Fury and humiliation washed over Winona. Summoning all her strength, she shoved him away and slapped him across the face.

Caleb's head snapped to the side, a clear imprint of her fingers burning on his cheek. The slap seemed to jolt him back to reality. The madness in his eyes faded, replaced by bewildered emptiness.

Winona's body trembled. Her legs were weak as she tugged her gown back into place, forcing her near-shattered frame upright. Staggering, she rushed out of the balcony.

She left the ballroom behind and arrived at the entrance of the hotel. Just as she was about to hail a cab, a figure appeared before her.

It was Miranda. Her earlier shock and sorrow had vanished, replaced by arrogance and hatred.

"You must be Caleb's wife, Winona Nander, right? Let me introduce myself. I'm his first love, Miranda Granger."

Winona's eyes burned red, her heart heavy with exhaustion and rage. She just wanted Miranda out of her way. "Get lost!"

But Miranda only smiled. "There's no rush, Ms. Nander. Since this is our first meeting, I should give you a proper welcome gift."

Before Winona could react, Miranda brought out a beer bottle from behind her and swung it at Winona's head.

With a loud crash, pain exploded at her forehead. Warm blood blurred her vision, trickling down her face. Fire ripped through her skull, and her world went black as she collapsed onto the cold floor.

Winona woke to a pounding, relentless headache.

Struggling to open her eyes, she saw two figures standing at the ward's door.

"Caleb, I didn't mean to. I had too much to drink. When I saw you both on the balcony, I was jealous and lost control…"

"Jealous? Aren't you involved with another man? You were chatting happily with him at the party and even… kissed him."

"It was all an act for you to see!" Miranda cried, clutching his sleeve. "I only wanted you to notice me. You married Winona, the famed beauty of your circle, with her perfect family and stunning looks. I was afraid you'd only see her and forget I even existed."

Caleb fell silent. After a long pause, Winona heard him sigh helplessly. "No matter how great she is, she's not the same as you."

His words cut into Winona's heart like a blunt knife, reopening her wound again and again.

Not the same?

Of course. She was nothing but an ornament he had been forced to marry, while Miranda was the love of his life. Naturally, they weren't the same.

Chapter 6

Miranda seemed comforted by his words and began sobbing softly. "But I just hit Winona. You know how hot-tempered she is. She won't let this slide. What should I do?"

"Don't worry. I'll handle this."

With that, Caleb pushed the ward door, only to meet Winona's gaze head-on.

He walked to her bed and said calmly, "Miranda got drunk last night and mistook you for someone harassing her. That was why she accidentally hurt you. It was just a misunderstanding. She's my junior, so for my sake, just let it slide."

Hearing him twist the truth felt like thousands of needles piercing Winona's heart.

"A misunderstanding? Caleb, do you think I'll believe that? Or do you think I'm stupid?"

Caleb's brows furrowed slightly.

Winona sneered. "If this isn't resolved, I'll call the police. The Solt family might be powerful, but my family—the Nanders—isn't that weak. I'll keep suing, and you can keep bailing her out. Let's see who runs out of patience first."

Caleb closed his eyes, massaging his temples. "What do you want?"

Winona glared at him, then pulled out her phone and made a call. Moments later, a bodyguard entered carrying a cooler filled with bottles of hard liquor.

Pointing at the box of liquor, Winona fixed her gaze on Miranda. "Drink them all."

Miranda paled. "I-I can't drink them."

"You can't?" Winona raised a brow and snorted coldly. "If you can't drink, then why did you go on a drunk rampage last night? Or does your talent for mistaking identities depend on your condition? Should I find a few thugs to help you get in the right state?"

Miranda's face turned ghastly with mortification. She clenched her jaw, picked up a bottle with trembling hands, and was about to uncork it when Caleb took it from her.

Caleb met Winona's eyes, his expression unreadable. "I'll drink on behalf of her."

"No, Caleb! You're allergic to alcohol!" Miranda cried, rushing to stop him.

Yet, Caleb merely glanced at her calmly. "Be good and step aside."

Winona watched as he downed bottle after bottle of liquor. Her heart burned as though seared by flames, the pain so tormenting that her body trembled uncontrollably. To keep herself composed, she gripped the bedsheet so tightly her nails nearly pierced her skin.

Caleb's allergy flared almost immediately. Red rashes spread across his neck and cheeks, his breathing rapid and uneven. Yet he didn't stop until he finished the last drop. Slamming the bottle down, he swayed and had to brace himself against the wall.

He quickly pulled out his allergy pills from his pocket and swallowed them dry. Despite his flushed face and labored breathing, he looked at Winona calmly. "Is this enough?"

Just then, a nurse entered. "Ms. Nander, it's time for your brain CT scan."

Winona fought down the pounding pain in her temples and the ache in her chest, stumbling slightly as she left the bed.

Passing by Miranda, her hand darted out, snatching two discarded beer bottles. She brought them down in a swift, brutal arc against Miranda's head.

A sickening pair of thuds was instantly followed by Miranda's shrill, tearing scream and the sound of splintering glass.

"No!" Winona flung the broken necks away, her eyes cold as ice. "If you wrong me, I'll make sure you pay twice the price!"

With that, she turned and followed the stunned nurse out of the ward.

"Winona Nander!" Caleb's voice rang out behind her, shouting her full name in a rare show of composure. Chaos erupted as he rushed to Miranda, scooping her up and calling for a doctor.

Winona didn't look back.

During her examination, she overheard the nurses whispering amongst themselves in the corridor.

"Oh, the young woman Mr. Solt brought in is badly injured!"

"Mr. Solt is frantic—carrying her around the hospital, finding her blood type, summoning specialists…"

"I've never seen him lose control like that. He's always so calm and composed. He must love her deeply."

Lying on the cold examination table, Winona bit her lip hard, her eyes reddening. Her tears flowed unchecked, tracing paths down the sides of her face and disappearing into the strands of her hair.

For the next few days, Winona remained in the hospital, recuperating alone. Caleb never visited—angry, perhaps, at her attack on Miranda.

Winona wasn't bothered. Once her wound had healed slightly, she discharged herself.

The moment she left the hospital, she called her best friend, Olivia Markham—wild and free-spirited—and headed straight to the most exclusive private club in town.

Swaying her hips to the beat, Olivia leaned close and shouted over the music, "Winnie, are you seriously thinking about divorcing Caleb? You're so into him!"

Winona took a sip of hard liquor, the fiery burn sliding down her throat. She grinned widely. "Tell me, what kind of person do you think I am?"

Olivia thought for a moment. "Pretty, untamed, and free-spirited. You take things in stride."

"Exactly." Winona's smile was bright but fragile. "I love him, but when it's time to let go, I will."

Olivia gave her a long look.

Winona arched her brow. "What are you staring at?"

Olivia sighed. "Nothing. It's just that… It's a shame Caleb let you slip away. Once you walk away, you never look back. If he regrets it later, it won't be easy to win you back—even if he resorts to ending his own life."

Winona gave a self-deprecating smile. "Ending his life for me? That will only happen when the world ends."

She quickly perked up. "Enough of that. Get me some cute guys. I'm going to have fun tonight!"

Olivia chuckled and nodded. Then, she called over a line of tall, handsome hosts, their bare chests showing off toned, sculpted muscles.

Winona reached out, her fingers about to brush across one host's abs, when a hand shot out and grabbed her wrist.

Chapter 7

Winona went rigid and pivoted her head, her own stare immediately clashing with Caleb's icy, unyielding gaze. What on earth was he doing here?

Before she could react, he yanked her off the couch in one swift motion and slung her over his shoulder as if she weighed nothing.

"What the hell are you doing, Caleb? Put me down!" she screamed.

Caleb didn't even flinch. Striding straight for the door, his voice cut like glass. "I told you—you can do whatever you want, but you're not allowed to come to places like this and hire a male host!"

"Why do you care?" she snapped, fury spilling out. "Who the hell do you think you are?"

"I'm your husband."

She laughed, as though he'd told a ridiculous joke. "Husband? You mean the husband who drinks for another woman?"

Caleb's steps faltered. He went quiet for a moment before replying, "I told you that wasn't her fault. Besides, you smashed two bottles over her head—she's hurt. What more do you want?"

Without giving her a chance to argue, he shoved her into the waiting Rolls-Royce at the curb.

Fuming, Winona reached for the door handle, ready to leap out of the moving car, but Caleb caught her in time. His arm locked around her, unyielding.

"Stop it, will you?" he warned, exhaustion simmering beneath his calm. "Be good."

The car was already in motion. Struggling was pointless. She turned her face to the window, refusing to look at him.

Caleb looked worn out. Leaning back against the seat, he soon drifted off. His head tilted unconsciously, resting against her shoulder.

Her body stiffened.

Winona was about to push him away when Wesley cautiously piped up. "Mrs. Solt, please don't be mad at him. He's barely slept these past few days because of that international merger. He's just finished an all-nighter this morning.

"When he heard you were here, he came straight over—didn't even stop for a drink of water. He was worried you'd get too wild. He didn't want Mr. Nander to find out and lecture you…"

Winona listened silently, but a bitter ache bloomed in her chest. What was that supposed to mean? He could care enough to protect her from her father, but only as a convenient tool, never as a woman in his heart.

Then, as if mocking her thoughts, Caleb's arms tightened in his sleep. He pulled her closer, murmuring a name against her shoulder. "Miranda… Don't go…"

That one word hit Winona like a thunderclap, shattering the last fragile hope she had clung to. Pain ripped through her chest. She couldn't take it anymore.

With a burst of strength, she shoved him hard, sending him sprawling across the backseat. The jolt woke him. He rubbed his temples, his expression quickly settling back into its usual cold composure.

Without so much as a glance at her, he reached for the tablet beside him and began skimming through the stack of financial reports.

The silence in the car was suffocating.

When they returned to the cold, cavernous house, neither spoke a word.

Winona didn't want to sleep. She went straight to the study, opened her laptop, and began editing the photos she hadn't had time to post.

Before she could even get through the first batch, Caleb walked in, shut her laptop, and scooped her up again. "It's late. Go to bed."

Too tired to fight or argue, she let him carry her back to the bedroom.

The next morning, Winona woke and instinctively reached for her phone. A headline caught her eye.

"Rising Photographer Miranda Granger's Solo Exhibition Opens Today—Stunning Work Captivates the Public!"

Beneath it were photos from the event—enlarged shots of her so-called original works. Winona's eyes widened. She shot upright in bed.

Those were her photos, the ones she had kept on her USB drive, unpublished. Miranda had stolen them and hosted an entire exhibition.

Rage surged through her veins. She jumped out of bed, threw on her clothes, and stormed toward the stairs, only to find Caleb already waiting.

Calm and unruffled, he stood at the top of the stairs, as if expecting her.

"Don't go looking for trouble with her," he said evenly.

Winona froze mid-step, staring at him in disbelief. Her voice trembled as she asked, "You… knew?"

Then, it hit her. Last night, when she had been editing those very photos, he had come in, taken her USB drive, and forced her to rest early.

A chill spread through her chest like ice.

"It was you, wasn't it?" she whispered, hoarse with disbelief and hurt.

Caleb didn't deny it. "Miranda's been preparing for her exhibition for months, but all her original files were lost when her hard drive crashed.

"The opening date was already set, the invitations were out—canceling it would've been devastating for her. Besides, she's seen your previous work and admires your style. So, she asked if she could… borrow some of your photos."