Chapter 1

For five long years, I clung to Wesley Grant.

I dove into the sea for him. I had an abortion for him. I even took a bullet for him.

Everyone called me his lapdog, but little did they know that he had saved my life from the brink of death five years ago. From that moment on, I swore that my loyalty would belong only to him.

But at the Grant family dinner, he got me to kneel and lick the shoes of his childhood sweetheart. It was only when his uncle, Joseph Grant, entered and stopped him that I realized the truth.

The man who saved me five years ago had never been Wesley. It was Joseph all along.

Without hesitation, I called the patriarch of the family, Albert Grant. "I've changed my mind," I said. "The heir of the Grant family should be Joseph, or I'll withdraw my investments at once."

…

When the bullet lodged in my shoulder, Wesley Grant was lowering his head, adjusting his cufflinks. When I bumped into him and some blood splattered onto his expensive suit, his first reaction was a frown.

"Watch out. Don't dirty my suit."

How it hurt.

It wasn't the injury. His words were like a dagger driving into my heart.

I had been with him for five years. I had taken multiple blows and attacks on his behalf, yet in the end, his suit was more important than me.

I went to the hospital alone, sitting in the emergency room while the doctor stitched me up. The nurse unwrapped my old dressing and sighed, saying, "You, again?"

Yes. Me again.

My entire body was covered in wounds. Beneath my left rib was a scar from the knife I took on his behalf. Across my lower abdomen was a surgical scar from the abortion I got because of him. At that moment, I had a new gunshot wound on my right shoulder.

I had treated these scars as medals earned in the name of loving him, but in his eyes, I was probably just a lapdog who didn't know her place.

When the stitches were done, it was already two in the morning.

My phone rang. It was from Wesley. My heart skipped a beat, thinking that he finally remembered to call to check up on me.

When I picked up, all I heard was his tipsy voice saying, "Get me something to drink. Quatre Saison Hotel. Room 1808."

My fingertips grew white from how hard I was gripping my phone. It was raining outside, and my wound was still bleeding, but I was used to obeying his every command. From the day he rescued me from the sea five years ago, I vowed to him that my life was his.

…

I took the cab to the hotel. I was completely drenched by the time I arrived at Room 1808. I rang the doorbell.

The person who answered was his secretary, Janine Leigh. She was in Wesley's white shirt, showing off her two long legs.

The love bites on her neck were jarringly obvious.

"Wesley had one too many to drink. He had just slept." She looked at my shoulder, seeping with blood, and smiled. "Oh no, you're hurt again? What a loyal lapdog."

I handed the hot tea, yet she wouldn't take it. "Come in and pour me some water. I can't reach the cups."

I knew she was humiliating me, but Wesley was in the room, and I wanted to look at him, even just for one glance.

The room was still reeking of alcohol. Welsey was asleep on the bed, his tie loose, showing off his collarbone.

How long had I not seen him close up like that? For five years, I had been like a moth attracted to flames, revolving my entire world around him, yet he wouldn't even bat me an eye.

My hands were trembling hard when I poured the water.

Janine deliberately toppled the cup, spilling hot water on my hand. "Oh, no. I'm sorry," she apologized half-heartedly. When she bent down, the collar of her shirt opened, showing more love bites around her body.

I fled the room in a fluster.

…

Seeing the mess I was in through the elevator mirror, even I would look down on myself.

When I arrived at the parking lot, I bent down in the corner and retched.

Five years ago, on that rainy night, I had knelt the same way on the docks, fighting the same nausea. That night, I had just learned that my family had gone bankrupt. My father had jumped off a building, while my fiance fled with the remaining money.

Despair swallowed me whole, and I jumped into the sea. A pair of hands rescued me. Before I saw black, I noticed a blue cufflink.

Someone whispered to me softly, "Live."

…

When I woke up, I saw Wesley. He was standing by the window with the blue cufflink on his sleeve. From that moment on, I immediately knew that he was the one who gave me a second chance at life. I decided that my loyalty would belong to him for the rest of my life.

Yet at that moment, kneeling on the cold parking lot ground, I asked myself for the very first time, "Sophie Scott, is this how you want to pay him back? You made yourself so cheap and lowly. Is this the loyalty you think it is?"

The phone rang once more. It was still Wesley. He said impatiently, "Is everything ready for tomorrow's bid? Don't let some minor injury delay real business."

I suddenly laughed as tears fell.

"It's ready, but Wesley, this is the last time I'll do this for you."

He got quiet for a while, then he replied with his usual sarcasm, "What? Are you throwing a tantrum now?"

"No." I wiped away my tears and slowly stood up. "You don't need me anymore."

Wesley sighed softly. "Sophie." He suddenly softened his tone. "You know that I'm under a lot of pressure recently."

I gripped my phone tightly as my nails dug into my palm.

"My family's keeping a very close eye on me. Those elders in the company are waiting for me to make a mistake."

He paused before saying even softer, "Only you. You're the only one who would never betray me. I only trust you."

The lights in the parking lot grew dim. I heard my heart thumping loudly.

"Did Janine make things difficult for you just now?" He asked cautiously. "I was out unconscious from drinking too much."

This was the first time he ever checked in on my feelings for five years.

"I'll…" I felt my throat tighten. "I'll send the materials over early tomorrow morning."

"Take your time," Wesley replied gently. "Go and deal with your injury. I've wired you some money. Get yourself to a better hospital."

I was stunned. This wasn't him at all. It was always me who was spending money on him. I was the one managing everything for him.

"Sophie." It felt as if he was breathing directly into my ear. "Do you remember what you promised me? You said that your life was mine."

Of course, I remembered.

"I really need you right now." He enunciated slowly. Every word was like a knock on my heart. "After the bid tomorrow, I'll take you to Moldivas. Just the two of us."

Chapter 2

Moldivas?

Wesley had promised to take me there three years ago, but ended up taking Janine there instead. His voice at that moment was so seductive and tempting that one couldn't help but fall for it.

"Alright." I heard myself say. After hanging up, I stood in the parking lot for a long time. He said he needed me.

Perhaps it was real this time.

Perhaps he finally saw the sacrifice that I had made.

Perhaps…

We won the bid with a landslide success. The materials I had prepared throughout the night, while injured, let Wesley win against our opponents at the very last minute.

When he went on stage to accept the applause, he swept his gaze at me, stopping only for a short moment. I thought that it was a thank you from him.

The celebration was held at a rotating restaurant on the top floor of a skyscraper. I had deliberately changed to a gown that could cover the bandages on my shoulder.

When I entered, the server led me to the most corner seat. "Mr. Grant's orders," he said softly. "He said that you're injured and you need some quiet."

I looked at Wesley, laughing and chatting at the main table. He was lowering his head and whispering into Janine's ear with a grin.

That seat should have been mine.

The lighting where I was was dim—enough to hide all of my humiliation.

Halfway through the party, Robert Lowe raised a glass, fumbling to get up. "It's such a happy occasion. Why don't we get Ms. Leigh to drink with us?"

Janine immediately looked troubled. She hid herself behind Wesley.

Wesley furrowed his brows, but immediately looked at me in the corner. "Sophie, take Janine's place."

I was completely baffled. All eyes were on me.

"I…" My injury was still hurting. I hesitated for a while before biting my lip and explaining, "I don't feel too well."

"Don't be such a party pooper." Wesley's tone turned cold. "Mr. Lowe here is an important client."

I got up with difficulty and walked toward the main table. Robert smiled mischievously as he wrapped his arm around my shoulder, pressing right on my wound.

I was in so much pain I gasped, only to see Wesley helping Janine get some food. He completely did not notice my pain.

…

After three rounds of drinking, my stomach started to churn. I excused myself to head to the ladies', but Janine stopped me in the corridors.

"What a good dog," she snickered. "Wesley said that from now on, you'll be the one attending all the business social events."

When I returned to the venue, Janine walked over to me with a glass of wine in her hand. "Sophie, thank you for drinking on my behalf," she said sweetly. "Here's to you."

When I was about to clink glasses with her, her hand suddenly turned. Red wine spilled onto my light-colored gown, staining a large patch.

"Oh, no!" Janine yelped. "I'm sorry my hand slipped."

The commotion attracted some attention, together with some snickers and comments.

Wesley walked over. I looked at him, thinking that he might show some concern. Yet, he furrowed his brows and looked at me. "How could you be so careless? You don't even care about your image in public."

Janine huddled up to him and flashed an innocent gaze. "It's all my fault."

"It's not." Wesley patted her on the back of her hand before turning to me. "Go to the washroom and get it clean. Don't embarrass me here."

Embarrass him?

Turns out, he thought that I should drink on his behalf, but if I was humiliated openly in public, I'm the one causing him embarrassment.

I got up, feeling the wet dress sticking to my skin.

When I walked past the main table, I saw the date and suddenly remembered that it was our fifth anniversary of knowing each other.

Five whole years.

I stopped and turned to him, saying, "Wesley, do you remember what day it is today?"

He was busy helping Janine, so he replied without looking up, "What day? Enough fooling around. Go get yourself cleaned up."

At that moment, my heart completely sank.

In the ladies', I looked at the wretched state I was in through the mirror. For the past five years, all I did was prove that I was one big joke.

I collected my thoughts before heading to the parking lot when I was stopped by three men. They were from our business opponents who had lost the bid that day.

"Hand over the document." The leader of the group flashed a gleaming knife. "How kind of Wesley Grant to let you go alone."

I tightened my grip on the briefcase.

There was an important agreement in it that was going to be signed the next day.

"Dream on."

When they attacked, I defended myself through all the years of training from defending Wesley. However, my shoulder injury limited my movements, and soon I was overpowered.

…

When the knife came stabbing toward me, I swerved and hit the other person's wrist with the briefcase.

We heard footsteps coming down. It was Wesley and Janine.

"Wesley!" I yelled, "Help me!"

When he saw what was happening, the first thing he did was to place Janine behind him, protecting her.

"Where are the documents?" he asked me.

While fending for myself, I threw the briefcase to him. He grabbed it and pulled Janine along to the car. He said, "I can't put Janine in danger. Stall them."

He sped off, leaving me alone with three thugs.

The injury on my shoulder split open as blood seeped through my clothes.

I leaned against a pole and slipped to the ground. As I saw the tail lights turning around in the corner, vanishing from my sight, I suddenly lost the will to fight.

When the knife stabbed into my waist, I didn't feel pain at all. Perhaps because my heart was completely dead, I no longer felt pain.

A second stab, a third stab… I lost count.

Blood splattered from my body. I was slowly losing consciousness. All I could hear was my heavy breathing.

Right when I was about to see black, I heard scurrying footsteps.

Did Wesley return?

Chapter 3

"Quickly copy all of the surveillance footage." Wesley's voice echoed in the parking lot. "This is proof of Brian Walton's doing. We'll have leverage over him in the future."

He didn't even look at me.

"Wesley, Sophie is terribly injured…" Michael Charleston said with hesitation.

"She won't die," Wesley curtly interrupted him. "We'll deal with her once we finish this. Now that Brian is in my hands. Let's see if he would dare to fight with me again in the future."

Another subordinate of Wesley said, "Truth be told. We see how much Sophie has done for you over the past five years. She had taken knife attacks for you. Drink on your behalf, and clean up after you mess. Don't you feel a thing for her?"

Wesley snickered. "Feel for her? For that lapdog?" He finally glanced at me, albeit filled with disdain. "I only care for Janine. Sophie? She's nothing but a useful tool."

Michael sighed. "But she dove into the sea for you. She even got an abortion. Today, she even…"

"That's because she's delusional," Wesley interrupted.

After copying the surveillance footage, Wesley was about to leave when Michael stopped him. "Hold up. Are you going to let her die here?"

Wesley was silent for a moment before waving his hands impatiently, "Just dump her at some clinic. Don't let her die."

I was brutally stuffed into the trunk of the car. Before completely losing my consciousness, I heard Wesley saying on the phone, "Janine, don't be mad. I'll be there right away."

At that moment, I finally understood.

For the past five years, I have fallen for a monster. If I were to survive this ordeal, I would surely stop loving him. I had paid him back everything with my life.

When I opened my eyes once more, all I saw was the hospital ceiling. My entire body hurt.

I turned and was surprised to see Wasley sitting on the chair by the side of the bed. He looked messy.

His suit was crumpled up behind his chair. His collar unbuttoned. A five o'clock shadow shaped his jaw, and his eyes were bloodshot.

When he heard movements, he suddenly looked up.

When our eyes met, I saw a complex of emotions that I didn't understand. It seemed like worry, yet also… relief?

"You're up." His voice was completely hoarse. "The doctor said that you lost too much blood. If we were half an hour later, you would have…"

I looked at him quietly. Looking at the man who stood by the side and cruelly watched me die, pretending to be a devoted, loving man at that moment.

How ironic.

"Did you get the footage?" I asked quietly.

His expression stiffened for one split second before resuming normal. "What footage? You were seriously injured. You must have hallucinated."

He always did this. Just when I thought he might have some conscience in him, he would always destroy my fantasy with his lies.

"Mr. Walton…" I continued.

"He has been dealt with," he interrupted me and reached his hand out to me, trying to touch my forehead, but I swerved.

His hand hung awkwardly in mid-air. His gaze dimmed.

He said, "Sophie, you knew I had to ensure the safety of the documents. I can't let Janine be caught up in danger. She's innocent. Those men were coming for me. You—"

"Wesley," I cut him off in a voice so calm I even surprised myself. "I heard your conversation with Michael while I was lying in the parking lot."

Silence hung thick in the room.

He went through a flurry of emotions before saying, "You've misheard. You had lost a lot of blood back then. You must have hallucinated."

I snickered. "What is my life worth to you…"

I looked him dead in the eye.

Chapter 4

Wesley took a deep breath and held my hand. His warm hand was trembling a little.

"Sophie, a lot of things are not how you think they are. In this position… there are simply a lot of things that I can't choose for myself."

I asked in retort, "So, calling me a lapdog in front of your men is one of those things out of your control?"

His grip tightened, causing me pain.

"Those words?" He gulped. "I wanted them to hear it. The Grant family politics are rather complicated, so I can't let anyone know that I truly care for you. It will become leverage over me."

What a perfect explanation. If I hadn't heard him smirking and being condescending, I would have almost believed him.

The nurse entered to change my dressing, breaking the eerie silence in the room.

Wesley stood up and resumed his usual regal self. He helped me adjust my pillow. His actions were so gentle that it was as if I were his precious lover.

"Have a good rest," he whispered in my ear. "Once you're discharged, I'll take you somewhere."

…

After he left, I turned to look at the grey skies out of the window. Sometimes, I truly wonder whether Wesley had multiple personalities.

He could watch, expressionless, as someone drove a knife into me. And yet, he could also sit by my hospital bed throughout the entire night, keeping watch over me.

However, I soon got rid of this idea. It was not that he had multiple personalities. I was just too naive.

So naive that every time he showed me just an ounce of charity or concern, I would completely forget what a selfish and cruel man he was.

My wounds were still hurting.

This time, I was not going to be lied to again.

…

On the day I got discharged, Wesley came to pick me up. He opened the car door for me and gently protected my head as I got into the car.

Watching the car heading into the suburbs as the journey became more and more unfamiliar, I asked, "Where are we heading to?"

I looked at the tall trees outside the window.

"Home." Wesley looked ahead. His side profile was awfully tender. "To meet my mother."

I was stunned. It had been five years, yet this was the first time he had offered to show me his family.

The Grant residence was a historical building halfway on top of a mountain. Vines sprawled across its outer walls, making it seem rather haunted.

Wesley took me up the spiral staircase to the room at the end of the corridor. By the door, he stopped and said, "My mother's situation is rather special. Be prepared."

As he pushed open the heavy wooden doors, I saw a woman being tied up on a bed. She was emaciated. Her hollow gaze was looking up at the ceiling as she muttered something quietly to herself.

"Hey, Mom." Wesley bent down beside the bed, speaking with a tenderness I have never once heard before. "I brought Sophie to see you."

"Monsters! You're all monsters! You will all die!"

I subconsciously retreated, bumping into Wesley. He held my shoulders and said softly, "See? This is what happens to those who were driven mad by the Grant family."

He unrolled his mother's sleeve, showing the scary scars on her wrist. "When I was ten, she slit her wrist right in front of me. All because my father brought home an illegitimate child."

"What happened to the child?" I asked softly.

Wesley replied with a snicker, "He survived under my father's protection. I can't find him at all. I must become the heir to the Grant family to avenge my mother. Sophie, you love me. You will surely help me, right?"

As we left the room, I turned to look at the figure curling up in bed. At that moment, I almost believed that all of Wesley's cruelty must have its reasons, that it was born out of pain.

…

That night, the family dinner was held in the main building. At the family dinner, Wesley seemed to have changed into a different person. He entered with Janine around his arms and didn't even look at me.

"Why is Sophie here?" Janine pretended to be surprised. "Today's the Grant family dinner."

I stood in the corner as I watched Wesley help her get into her seat.

Turns out, the gentle persona I witnessed just a mere few hours ago, the one who brought me to see his mother, was nothing but a delusion.

Chapter 5

During the family dinner, Janine accidentally spilled some wine.

"Oh, no. These are my favorite pair of shoes." She cast me a coy glance and said, "Ms. Scott, would you help me wipe my shoes clean?"

The entire table turned quiet.

Wesley swirled his glass of red wine, asking, "Didn't you hear her? Kneel and wipe Janine's shoes."

I looked at him in disbelief.

Three hours ago, he held my hand to introduce me to his mother.

"Wesley…" I was trying to find a hint that he was just putting on an act. All he did was sneer. "What? Do you really think you're in any position here?"

My legs felt as heavy as lead. This man, who had shown me his past scars earlier that day, was carving a new one in my heart.

Seeing me not moving, he ordered the house staff. They pressed me down on my shoulders, trying to force me to kneel.

Just when I was resisting, the door suddenly opened.

A tall, slender figure quickly entered, backlit by the glare.

When he drew near, I finally saw his face. He looked strikingly similar to Wesley.

"Has the Grant family fallen so low that we resort to humiliating women to establish authority?" He held my wrist, helping me stand tall and firm.

Wesley suddenly sprang up as his glass of wine fell to the floor. "Uncle Joseph, what brings you back?"

Joseph Grant ignored Wesley's rage. He merely lowered his head to check on the wounds that had not healed on my wrist.

When he looked up, I gasped. Those deep soul-barring eyes were oddly familiar.

Joseph looked at Wesley. "You've completely embarrassed the Grant family! You made a woman fend off attacks for you. Now, you're humiliating her in public. This is how you were brought up to behave?"

Wesley fumed. "Uncle Joseph, this is my private affair."

Joseph snickered while he rolled up my sleeves, showing the still-healing wounds.

"Since it's your private affairs, why did you bring her here? You made her handle Grant Group's affairs for you. You made her take a knife for you. She was all alone in the parking lot, attacked by a rival company, and ended up hospitalized. Is this still a private affair?"

He swept a gaze across the room, his voice sharp and commanding. "All of you here are elders of the family. Are you just going to sit here and watch Wesley humiliate someone like that? Don't tell me you don't see what Ms. Scott has done for the family for the past five years?"

The others lowered their heads. No one dared to face his gaze.

Wesley, forcefully suppressing his anger, said, "Uncle Joseph, you're rarely in the country. There are a lot of matters that you don't understand—"

"I understand enough!" Joseph interrupted him, his gaze as sharp as a hawk. "Do you think I really don't know what you have been doing all these years? You took advantage of Ms. Scott's feelings for you, getting her to deal with all of your troubles, yet you wouldn't even give her the basic respect that she deserves!"

I looked at Joseph in a daze. How could his voice sound so similar to Wesley's?

Wesley noticed me focusing on Joseph. His gaze darkened. "Sophie, come here."

I stood in the same spot. My gaze was still fixed on Joseph. Those eyes. The voice. Why was everything so familiar?

"Sophie!" Wesley yelled once more. "I said, come here!"

He strode over to me, about to pull me over, when Joseph stopped him, saying, "Can't you see that she doesn't want to?"

Wesley clenched his fists tightly.

"This is our business. You have no right to interfere."

"No right?" Joseph smirked. "You're part of the Grant family. I'm part of the Grant family. Of course, I have the right to deal with anything that pertains to the family."

"Sophie, I'm going to give you one last chance." Wesley glared at me. "Come right next to me, and I'll let this matter go."

I slowly shook my head, replying to him firmly, "But Wesley, you already have someone with you!"