Chapter 1

“Boss, I’ve decided. At the end of the month, I’ll head abroad to film the reconstruction project as a reporter. Put my name down.”

The words had barely left her lips when a startled voice echoed from the other end of the line.

“Quinn, are you serious? You’ve already won so many awards here in the US; your future is dazzling. If you leave, who knows when you’ll return?”

Quinn Suarez’s fingers instinctively brushed against the safety charm hanging around her neck, and she answered softly, “Hmm.”

The boss hesitated, still doubtful.

“I heard your relationship with President Montero has always been good. Did he agree to let you go to such a dangerous place?”

“I won’t let him know.” Quinn’s voice rasped, heavy with weariness. “Besides, he doesn’t care anymore.”

The call ended abruptly.

Quinn remained seated in silence, her thoughts heavy, until the pale moonlight slipped through the window and fell across the large wedding portrait on the wall.

In the photo, Valerian Montero leaned down slightly, pressing a tender kiss against Quinn’s lips, a smile brimming at the corners of his mouth, his eyes filled with nothing but her.

Anyone who looked at it would have praised them as the picture of a devoted couple.

But Quinn tugged harshly at the safety charm on her chest, hot tears slipping down her face and soaking into its carved patterns.

She had first met Valerian during a business interview.

Rumor had it that he was cold and unapproachable, a man who never entertained interviews. Yet Quinn managed to secure one with her skill and professionalism.

Valerian wore a faint smile throughout their talk, his tone soft and unhurried. Surprised by how different he was from his reputation, Quinn could hardly reconcile the contrast.

Then, at the end of the interview, Valerian suddenly asked, “Miss Suarez, are you married?”

The question left her stunned, her breath caught in her throat.

From that day on, Valerian pursued her with relentless fervor.

He would fly across oceans just to buy a photography piece she admired.

He would reserve an entire sky-high restaurant to celebrate her birthday.

He even lit up enormous city screens with bold declarations of love.

Quinn had long understood the shadows behind wealthy families, playboys everywhere, each carrying their own scandals.

But Valerian ignored every protest from his family. With his own hands, he placed the diamond bracelet, the mark of “Mrs. Montero”, around her wrist. He told her that the first moment he saw her, he knew he would never marry anyone else in this life.

And Quinn chose to believe him.

For three years of marriage, Valerian proved his words true. In their social circle, whispers said Valerian had spoiled her beyond measure.

When Quinn was gravely injured and slipped into a coma while undercover in the mountains investigating abducted women, Valerian’s rage was terrifying; he personally wiped out the entire den.

The man who had never bowed to any god even went to Roseville, kneeling step by step, just to seek a safety charm for her.

A month later, Quinn awoke.

Before her stood Valerian, his eyes red with exhaustion, and Juliette, her chin lifted in pride.

Valerian explained that on his way back he had been caught in an avalanche, and Juliette had been the one to save him. He told Quinn not to let her thoughts wander.

But this same Valerian, the man who once valued her life above his own, disappointed her time and again.

The first time was when she confronted him with a reporter’s article about his affair. He only laughed, pulling her into his arms, murmuring that the title of Mrs. Montero would forever belong to her, insisting he had merely given Juliette some jewelry.

The second time came when she learned he had donated a building to Juliette’s alma mater, and during the speech, his gaze lingered on her with unsettling tenderness. When Quinn pressed him, asking if his heart had shifted, he silenced her by settling her on his lap and kissing her, saying he only pitied the girl for being an orphan.

The third time was the cruelest, when the media filled with reports of him attending banquets at Juliette’s side. Quinn said nothing then. Instead, she threw the divorce papers at him. Valerian panicked, clutching her as if she might vanish, swearing over and over that Juliette was only a naïve girl, unversed in the world.

But Quinn left anyway. She moved out without a word.

For three days and nights, Valerian stood drenched in the rain outside her building, vowing feverishly that such betrayals would never happen again.

Seeing him drenched to the bone, his body burning with a forty-degree fever, Quinn’s heart softened once more.

For several months after that, no more rumors surfaced.

Until one night, when she went to fetch a drunken Valerian.

“Valerian, no offense, but why spend so much money suppressing every piece of news about you and Juliette?” one of his friends teased.

“Yeah, she may have saved your life, but what you’ve done for her has more than repaid the debt. What exactly are your feelings for her?”

Outside the door, Quinn froze, her breath faltering as her hand clenched tight around the doorknob.

Valerian lifted a glass, downing the liquor slowly, his voice deep and husky. “At first, I thought it was only repayment. But over time, the girl kept rejecting every gift I sent, saying saving me had been her choice, that she wanted nothing in return.”

A faint smile tugged at his lips. After a pause, he added quietly, “I think…I might have fallen for her.”

The words struck Quinn’s heart like a merciless hammer, shattering her last thread of hope.

Inside, silence lingered for several seconds before someone finally dared to speak.

“Then… what about Quinn? She never forgives betrayal. If she learns the truth, she’ll leave you without hesitation.”

“She will always be Mrs. Montero.”

Valerian’s grip on the wine glass tightened, his tone cold.

“Then she must never know.”

Outside the door, Quinn felt her blood turn to ice. The truth struck her like a merciless blow, stealing the air from her lungs until her chest burned with pain. She clung to the doorframe, gasping for breath, while tears streamed uncontrollably down her cheeks.

‘Valerian, since you fear so much that I’ll leave, then I will leave you forever.’

The sudden creak of the doorknob snapped her back, and the glow from the computer screen pierced her eyes like knives.

She stared at the full page of work handover procedures and signed her name without the slightest hesitation.

“Baby, why didn’t you come pick me up!” Valerian staggered in, proudly holding up the things in his hands. “Look, I brought your favorite roasted chestnuts and strawberry cake.”

Quinn cast him a glance, her expression untouched.

Valerian leaned his chin on her shoulder, his words slurred with drunken warmth.

“It’s okay if you didn’t come pick me up… I still like you.”

But when she remained silent, he narrowed his eyes, rubbing against her with drunken stubbornness.

“Baby, why won’t you talk to me…”

Then his gaze fell on the bold words glowing on the screen, “Work Handover Procedures.” In an instant, sobriety ripped through the haze. His face changed drastically.

“Baby… where are you going?!”