Chapter 1

My husband's secretary decided to "test the company's materials management system" by taking advantage of my nap. She slapped a QR code sticker right onto my forehead and scrawled a note beneath it in black marker.

*"Near-expiry inventory. Clearance sale."*

When I confronted her, Eva Harding laughed so hard she trembled. "Lily, don't be mad. I listed you on the secondhand market for fifty cents. Let's see if any scrap collectors want a spoiled heiress who only knows how to burn money."

1

The heavy crystal ashtray was in my hand before I could think. I hurled it at her head.

*Bang.*

Crystal exploded against the wall. Before the shards hit the floor, Nathan Butler had already yanked Eva behind him, shielding her with his own body.

"Lily! Eva worked all morning testing the new system. She was just joking with you. Is this worth getting so angry over?"

I didn't answer.

My gaze locked onto his collar, pulled askew in the commotion. The movement exposed the skin beneath his shirt. There, in the hollow of his collarbone, someone had written a crooked *"Eva"* in blue ballpoint ink.

It sat there, radiating a nauseating intimacy. That spot was a restricted area—he wouldn't even let *me* touch it.

"And what about this?" The words scraped out of my throat. My finger trembled as I pointed at the name. "Is this part of the system test too?"

Nathan froze. His gaze dropped. Discomfort flickered across his features, and he raised a hand to cover the ink.

"I drew it."

Eva's voice sliced through the tension—fast, crisp, dripping with coy innocence. She poked her head out from behind Nathan's back and stuck out her tongue.

"Last time Nathan had that four-hour multinational video meeting, I was waiting for signatures and got bored. So Nathan donated his collarbone for me to practice my calligraphy."

The rigid line of Nathan's shoulders dissolved. His furrowed brows relaxed. He reached back, helplessly tapping Eva's nose.

"Only you have so many tricks," he murmured. Indulgent. Fond.

The air conditioning blasted arctic cold, but scorching heat flooded my skull.

Nathan Butler was a man with severe mysophobia. His standards for appearance bordered on pathological—his shirts couldn't bear a single crease, let alone ballpoint scribbles on his skin. In the past, if I accidentally left a smudge of lipstick on his collar, he would frown and change immediately.

But now?

Now he treated this sloppy graffiti like a flirtatious game.

The office door, left ajar, swung open. Several female interns walked in clutching documents, their voices bright with gossip.

"I heard Mrs. Butler came to the company today? I really envy Mr. Butler. After being married so many years, his lock screen is still their proposal photo..."

The chatter died.

They saw Nathan shielding his secretary like she was made of glass. They saw me—the wife—with a QR code plastered to my forehead and *"Clearance sale"* scrawled across my face.

Silence. Absolute silence.

The envy in their eyes curdled into stunned scrutiny. Then naked pity. The weight of their stares landed like a silent, stinging slap.

*Pfft.*

Eva couldn't contain it. She covered her mouth and giggled.

Only then did Nathan snap back. His expression darkened. He barked at the employees to leave, then turned to Eva, his voice dropping.

"Eva, you took this joke too far. Apologize to Lily."