The thunderous roar of helicopter blades echoed above the city skyline.

Genevieve Whitfield had just finished a secret operation in Section A and was piloting the helicopter back to base.

As the aircraft cruised steadily over downtown, her gaze drifted downward when it passed Lambert Group's tower—the city's most recognizable landmark.

One glance was enough to make her pupils constrict.

Through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the CEO's office, Genevieve saw a man and a woman clinging to each other with fierce intensity.

The man had his back to Genevieve, but she recognized him instantly. It was her husband, Zachary Lambert.

And there, pressed against the glass, was a woman with an alluring side profile and a smoldering gaze.

Genevieve clicked her tongue. Zachary's childhood sweetheart, Regina Sloane, had just returned, and she was already handing Genevieve a "gift" like this.

With a straight face, she pulled out her phone and aimed her camera at Zachary and Regina before zooming in.

She could clearly see Regina's pitiful face, flushed with an unnatural red, pressed against the cold glass. Her half-hearted resistance only made things more heated.

A dry laugh escaped Genevieve's lips, swallowed by the deafening rotor noise.

Without hesitation, she tapped on the button to record.

"Perfect," she thought.

Genevieve lifted her gaze, her expression calm and unreadable.

She and Zachary had been married for only a year. The honeymoon phase was barely over, and she was already on the verge of having an ex-husband.

Before Zachary's father, Malcolm Lambert, died, he had left a will stating that his children could inherit the family empire only after they got married.

Yet, almost immediately after Malcolm's passing, his illegitimate son appeared. He had been born to a former bar hostess and was eager to claim his share of the inheritance.

Zachary's grandfather, Raymond Lambert, flew into a rage. To protect his grandson's sole claim to the inheritance, he immediately forced him into marriage.

However, Zachary had refused to marry anyone but Regina, his childhood sweetheart.

Raymond immediately ordered an investigation, only to uncover Regina's hidden past. He acted decisively and sent her away. To spare Zachary the heartbreak, he even came up with an excuse to hide the truth.

As for Genevieve, she had agreed to marry Zachary out of gratitude to Raymond for saving her mother's life.

That same night, her devoted husband sped off in a frenzy to chase after Regina, only to crash along the way.

It was only when Raymond begged on his knees that Genevieve intervened, bringing Zachary back from the brink of death.

Over the next year, she softened her edges and played the part of a dutiful Mrs. Lambert.

Zachary, too, had treated her with courtesy. He gave her just enough respect to maintain appearances.

At one point, he had told her that the accident had caused lasting damage and that he could no longer perform in bed.

Hearing him speak with such defeat, Genevieve had been overwhelmed with guilt. She had believed that her surgery had gone wrong, leaving Zachary with an impairment at such a young age.

To her surprise…

Genevieve watched Zachary on her phone, brimming with vigor, and the cold smile on her lips deepened. It wasn't that he was incapable. It just depended on who he was with.

With that, she stopped recording and saved the video.

The helicopter blades slowed, the roar fading like a retreating tide. For a moment, the entire city seemed to fall silent.

On the rooftop, only the howl of wind remained.

Genevieve stepped out of the cockpit, her expression calm, her movements crisp and decisive. She quickly stripped off the heavy flight gear, then tossed it into the helicopter.

After all, if she was going to catch Zachary in the act, she had to look the part. Showing up like this would only make his supposed condition seem all too real.

Genevieve headed for the door leading to the stairs, her mind still replaying the sensual images from earlier.

Her expression remained icy as she pushed the door open, a hint of menace in her movements. Betrayal was unforgivable to her.

A dim stairwell stretched ahead, the faint light barely reaching the bottom.

Genevieve was distracted. All she could think about was how she wanted to slap Zachary.

She stepped forward and suddenly tripped over an unseen obstacle. In an instant, she lost her balance and tumbled forward uncontrollably.

"Damn it!" Genevieve cursed inwardly.

Instinct took over at once. Her core tensed, and her hands shot out, trying to steady herself before slamming into the wall.

Yet, the expected cold impact never came. Instead, her palms pressed against a warm, firm chest. Through the thin fabric, she could feel the solid muscle beneath.

The next moment, her lips crashed squarely into something soft. It was warm and carried a metallic tang.

Genevieve's mind went completely blank. She had lived through gunfire and bloodshed, through blades and explosions, yet nothing this absurd had ever happened to her.

She recoiled instantly, stumbling back until her back slammed against the cold doorframe before she finally steadied herself.

Moments later, she lifted her gaze and finally took in the scene before her.

In the shadows of the stairwell, a tall, lean man slumped against the wall. Even in such a compromised position, he radiated a commanding presence.

The dim light traced the firm line of his lips. It was the spot Genevieve had just kissed.

Her heart skipped a beat as a strange heat rose to her cheeks.

Genevieve drew in a deep breath, ready to speak. "I'm so—"

But when her gaze fell on the man's abdomen, the words caught in her throat. Blood seeped uncontrollably through his fingers, soaking his white shirt in a horrifying red.

Zachary's mess could wait. This man, however, didn't have that luxury. One glance at the savage wound told her that any delay would be fatal.

She had already taken advantage of him, so she wasn't about to let him die here.

Without saying another word, Genevieve turned to leave. She needed to retrieve the military trauma kit from the helicopter.

Meanwhile, Tristan Hale leaned against the cold wall in the dim stairwell. His consciousness drifted between searing pain and rising waves of heat.

He couldn't stop thinking about how he had just been used as a human cushion and taken advantage of in the process. Yet, after seeing him in such a sorry state, the woman hadn't even apologized before running off.

The corners of his lips curled into a sneer as he said, "What a heartless woman."

As soon as the words left his mouth, Genevieve returned.

It wasn't until she crouched in front of Tristan and set down a dark green trauma kit that he forced his eyes open.

In fact, she had clearly heard him call her "heartless".

Genevieve glanced at him coolly, not bothering to react. Picking a fight with a man on the verge of death was beneath her.

She unzipped the kit with practiced movements, quickly slipped on sterile gloves, then pulled out a pair of scissors.

"Tough it out if you want to live," she said, her voice icy.

The moment she tore open Tristan's white shirt, a deep wound came into view.

Even then, Genevieve didn't flinch. She cleaned the wound, disinfected it, and stopped the bleeding with smooth precision.

But the instant her fingers touched his skin, her movements faltered.

Tristan's body burned with an alarming heat, far beyond what any normal infection could cause.

Genevieve looked up and met his intense gaze. It was charged with aggressive desire.

All at once, she knew that he had been drugged.

The thought flashed through her mind, and she stepped back instinctively. But Tristan was faster.

Before she knew it, a searing hand clamped her wrist. Pain shot through her as he yanked her down hard beside him. The distance between them closed in an instant.

Tristan's hot breath brushed against the side of Genevieve's neck. He loomed over her, casting her entirely in his shadow. His nose almost touched her skin, as if he were trying to confirm something.

This was the scent. It was the same one that clung to the person who had fought him earlier—the one who had gravely wounded him.

Tristan's gaze darkened, and the desire in his eyes vanished instantly.

Then, he gripped her chin and forced her to look up. "Who are you?"

With her face tilted up, Genevieve met his scrutinizing gaze. And suddenly, everything became clear.

She recognized him. This was Tristan, the illegitimate son of the Lambert family. The very man whose existence had made her ridiculous marriage possible.

Life truly had a twisted sense of humor.

A faint smile curved Genevieve's lips as she held Tristan's gaze.

"I'm your sister-in-law," she answered.

Chapter 2

At those words, Tristan loosened his grip on Genevieve's chin.

Genevieve flicked her wrist, a smirk tugging at her lips. "Not bad. You behaved yourself."

Then, she lowered her head and tied off the final stitch with efficiency. The bleeding had stopped, and the wound was neatly bandaged.

Genevieve rose to her feet, tossed the used gauze into a trash bag, then said, "Don't move around. If you want to stay alive, do as you're told. Also, keep it dry. If it gets infected, you won't survive it."

Having said her piece, she picked up the trauma kit and turned to leave.

After all, that despicable pair downstairs was still waiting to be dealt with. She had no time to play along with the Lambert family's illegitimate son and his self-pitying act.

To Genevieve, a cheating man was no different from rotting garbage. She wouldn't tolerate it even for a second.

She had just pushed open the door and barely taken two steps when Tristan's hoarse voice came from behind her. "Take me home."

But she didn't slow down, giving him nothing but a cold sideways glance. "I don't have time."

"I was drugged. Are you really going to leave me here to die?"

Tristan's voice was calm, yet unyielding.

At that, Genevieve laughed out loud, her eyes filled with mockery. "Drugged? Then I should stay even farther away."

With that, she strode toward the elevator without a backward glance. The wind whipped across the rooftop and carried her words off into the air.

But a second later, footsteps followed close behind.

As the elevator doors slid shut, a tall shadow slipped into the cramped space with her.

Genevieve turned sideways and leaned against the wall, deliberately putting distance between herself and Tristan. All the while, she treated him as if he didn't exist.

Suddenly, the cramped space felt suffocating.

The moment the doors closed, Tristan moved in.

Without warning, he crushed his lips to Genevieve's in a kiss so fierce it stole her breath—pure heat and madness.

Tristan trapped her against him, his hand gripping her waist. His body was so hot that it felt like it could set her on fire.

The sudden kiss left Genevieve gasping for air.

"Tristan Hale!"

She reacted instantly and drove her knee up on instinct. But he was ready. His hand pressed firmly against her knee, rendering her struggles useless.

Tristan's breathing grew ragged. Genevieve twisted her head away with all her strength, only for him to seize her chin.

"Look at me!" she yelled.

Genevieve clenched her teeth and shoved his shoulders with everything she had. "I'm Genevieve! Your brother's wife!"

However, reason meant nothing to someone who had already lost it.

Tristan drew in a deep breath at the crook of her neck. That familiar, addictive scent nearly drove him mad.

Genevieve couldn't believe how absurd this was. She could take down a dozen grown men without breaking a sweat, yet she had been successfully ambushed by this lunatic.

Both her hands were pinned above her head against the icy metal wall, her body entirely at Tristan's mercy.

She could feel it all—his heat, his racing heartbeat, and the unmistakable hardness pressing against her through their clothes.

"Let go!" Genevieve shouted, her eyes blazing with deadly intent.

The world had gone mad.

But of course, her threat did nothing. Tristan only tightened his grip and refused to let go.

Right then, the elevator dinged, and the display lit up. They were about to reach their floor.

Genevieve huffed. She had come to catch Zachary cheating and get a divorce. Yet, here she was, being kissed by Tristan, her brother-in-law.

…

Meanwhile, in the CEO's office, a lingering tension hung in the air.

Regina lay on the couch. Her cheeks were flushed, and her fingers were still clutching the corner of Zachary's shirt.

He lowered his head and pressed a light kiss to her collarbone, his eyes brimming with satisfaction and indulgence.

"Zach…" Regina called out softly. "I'm sorry. You're married now. We shouldn't be doing this. If Genevieve finds out, she'll be furious."

Zachary replied, "It's not your fault, silly. You're always thinking about everyone else and hurting yourself in the process. That's what hurts me."

Just as he was about to lean down for a kiss, the sudden vibration of his phone interrupted him.

He frowned and glanced at the caller ID. It was his mother, Sylvia Jenkins.

The moment he answered, her anger came through loud and clear. "Where are you? Your grandfather collapsed and has been sent to the hospital. Get Genevieve here immediately! Do you hear me?"

Zachary massaged his temples, irritation flashing across his face.

This wasn't Raymond's first hospitalization. Every time, he would demand that Zachary bring Genevieve along, only to wake up perfectly fine and immediately start pressuring them to have children.

Zachary was sick of it. He wasn't interested in Genevieve at all, thinking she was an unsophisticated woman. In his eyes, she was just a maid the Lamberts could summon and brush off whenever they wanted.

Besides, he had finally gotten back together with Regina and couldn't bear to be apart from her.

Zachary's gaze swept over Regina, who was in his arms.

"Got it," he replied curtly. "I'll call Genevieve and tell her to go herself."

Sylvia's anger flared up at once. "Tell her to go by herself? I don't care what you're doing. Just get to the hospital now!

"Zachary Lambert, if you don't show up, that brat Regina will be on the first plane out of the country tomorrow!"

Before he could respond, Sylvia hung up, leaving only the shrill dial tone.

His grip on the phone tightened, and his heart sank.

Zachary hadn't expected Sylvia to have already uncovered his secret. He had gone to great lengths to bring Regina back, hiding her every step of the way. But now, she had become someone else's leverage.

He believed that it was all Genevieve's fault. If she hadn't interfered back then, and if she hadn't gotten Raymond to step in and force the marriage, Regina would never have been sent abroad.

On the couch, Regina picked up on the tension. She tugged at his sleeve cautiously and asked, "Did something happen?"

"It's nothing," Zachary gently reassured her, brushing the loose strands of hair from her forehead. "It's just a minor issue at home. I'll be back soon."

With that, he stood, straightened his clothes, and bent down to kiss the corner of her lips. "Don't go anywhere, okay? Have a good rest. I'll deal with things and come back as soon as I can."

Regina pulled the blanket higher, obedient as ever. "Be careful. I'll wait for you."

No matter how reluctant he was, Zachary finished dressing and headed out. He glanced back at her several times before finally turning away.

But the moment the door closed, the smile on Regina's face vanished.

"That idiot is still as easy to fool as ever," she muttered.

…

As he headed for the elevator, Zachary called Genevieve, yet no one answered.

Irritation surged, and he quickened his pace. He had just reached the elevator when he dialed her number again.

As the elevator doors slid open, he heard a phone vibrating.

Zachary looked up and directly frowned at what he saw inside.

Chapter 3

The moment the elevator doors slid open, Zachary saw Genevieve and Tristan standing at opposite corners of the elevator.

Genevieve's breathing was still uneven, and a faint flush lingered on her cheeks, vivid against her pale skin.

When Zachary's gaze landed on her, a glint of admiration flashed in his eyes.

Genevieve was usually dressed in loose clothes and wore thick black-rimmed glasses, her appearance plain and forgettable. But now, the fitted clothes outlined her curves.

Her hair was pulled back, and a few loose strands damp with sweat stuck to her flushed cheeks. She didn't look disheveled at all. If anything, it made her more alluring.

It was the first time Zachary had truly noticed her figure and how beautiful she was. Even her waist seemed slimmer than Regina's.

Zachary's Adam's apple bobbed involuntarily, and a ridiculous thought flashed through his mind. Was she softer, too?

He found himself staring at Genevieve, unable to look away.

Noticing his gaze, Genevieve spoke up. "Zachary, we need to talk."

All at once, Zachary returned to his senses. He furrowed his brow, then said, "Something happened to Grandpa, and he was taken to the hospital. You're coming with me now. Whatever you want to say can wait."

Then, he glanced at Tristan.

"Did you come here to look for me?" he asked in a hostile tone.

But Tristan didn't spare Zachary so much as a glance. He walked straight out of the elevator and deliberately bumped into the latter's shoulder as he passed. It was a blatant challenge.

Zachary caught a faint scent coming off Tristan and sneered. "Try not to screw around. You don't want to end up like your mother, who died in disgrace."

Tristan didn't respond. Within moments, his figure disappeared down the hallway.

Zachary's mood soured even more after being completely ignored.

Wearing a grim expression, he stepped into the elevator and stood beside Genevieve. That was when he caught the same scent on her that had lingered on Tristan.

He frowned at her. "What are you doing here?"

"What? Am I not allowed in my husband's building?" Genevieve shot back.

Zachary thought of Regina, still hidden away in his office. In an instant, a flicker of unease crept into him.

He sidestepped the topic, his voice edged with warning as he said, "Stay away from Tristan. He's no good."

Genevieve couldn't help but find it amusing. If Tristan wasn't a good man, then what did that make him?

Her indifference unsettled Zachary for reasons he couldn't name, yet he quickly dismissed it as overthinking. She had gone to such lengths just to marry him, after all. There was no way she'd ever go against him.

…

The ride passed in silence as the driver took Genevieve and Zachary to the hospital.

By then, Raymond had already been moved into a private ward.

When Sylvia saw them arrive, her expression hardened. She told Genevieve to go inside and tend to Raymond, then pulled Zachary aside.

In the ward, Genevieve walked to the bedside and checked Raymond's pulse. Gradually, her expression turned grim.

One look at her face, and Raymond could guess what was going on. He sighed. "Gen, you've been through a lot."

Genevieve withdrew her hand, her voice soft as she remarked, "I'll prepare a few herbal tonics for you. You'll need to take them for a while."

Raymond clasped her hand, gratitude filling his eyes.

"Gen, thank you for everything you've done for this family. As long as you're here, I can rest easy."

Genevieve thought about the divorce she wanted. But when she looked at Raymond, the words wouldn't come.

She owed Raymond her life. Without him, she wouldn't even have been born.

When her mother had been pregnant with her, enemies had staged a car accident on a rainy night. Raymond happened to pass by and saved her mother, allowing her to be born safely. That was why she had agreed to marry Zachary in the first place.

Right then, Zachary returned to the ward with Sylvia.

The instant he stepped in, Raymond struggled to sit up and urged, "Gen, Zachary, I'm not trying to rush you, but you've been married for almost a year. It's time to have a child. I won't be able to rest until I see my great-grandchild."

As Zachary had expected, Raymond had brought up the subject of children again. He was more convinced than ever that his grandfather was just using his hospital stay as a ploy to pressure them into having a child.

"Grandpa, that's enough!" Zachary snapped. "I know you're eager for a great-grandchild, but stop using these tricks to pressure us."

Nearby, Sylvia's expression darkened. "Zachary, how dare you talk to your grandfather like that!"

Raymond's chest heaved in fury. Then, he turned to Genevieve, who had remained silent the whole time.

Guilt was etched across his face as he said, "Gen, our family has let you down. You've suffered because of us."

Even though Zachary had spoken rudely, seeing Raymond defend Genevieve only made Sylvia feel more resentful.

"Suffered? She's just an orphan with no parents! Marrying into the Lambert family is a blessing. Why should she feel wronged?"

The more she spoke, the angrier she became.

"If we hadn't been in such a rush back then, do you really think she'd become the Lamberts' daughter-in-law?" Sylvia added, her voice rising sharply.

At that, Zachary followed up coldly, "If she calls this suffering, then hardly anyone in the city would be happy."

Seeing her son take her side only emboldened Sylvia further.

She sized Genevieve up and spat, "Since you married into this family, you should fulfill your duties as a wife. Go to the hospital tomorrow and get a full checkup. Get your body sorted out. If a woman can't have kids, how is she supposed to hold onto her husband?"

Genevieve glanced at Raymond, who was lying in bed. Eventually, she decided to endure it and swallowed the retort that was on the tip of her tongue.

However, Sylvia saw her silence as a sign of weakness and submission. She pressed further, her words laced with insinuation, "You'd better pull yourself together. There are plenty of women out there willing to have Zachary's child. If you can't, someone else will gladly do it in your place."

So, this was how it went. The more Genevieve endured, the more she'd be made to suffer. Did Sylvia really think she was that easy to push around?

"How am I supposed to have a child on my own?" Genevieve retorted, smiling.

Sylvia froze at once. She could hardly believe it. Genevieve, who had always silently endured everything, had actually talked back.

She processed her words, then turned to Zachary. "What does she mean by that?"

Zachary's heart skipped a beat.

He remembered their wedding night. To avoid sleeping with Genevieve and to crush any hope she had, he had told her outright that he couldn't perform in bed.

Genevieve remained composed as she continued, "It's exactly what it sounds like. Your son can't—"

Before she could finish speaking, Zachary cut her off. His expression softened, and his voice became gentle. "Genevieve is pregnant. Don't worry about it."

Chapter 4

The moment Zachary finished speaking, the mood in the ward shifted.

Sylvia blinked in surprise, then her face lit up with a smile. "Really? Zachary, are you serious?"

At the same time, Raymond struggled to sit up in bed.

"Gen's pregnant? That's wonderful!" he exclaimed. "Our family finally has an heir!"

Genevieve had to give it to Zachary. He could lie without blinking. In the past, she might have played along. But now, she couldn't care less.

Without looking up, she replied decisively, "Not true."

All at once, tension hung thick in the air.

Both Sylvia and Raymond went rigid, while Zachary frowned. He hadn't expected Genevieve to call him out like that.

Still, he suppressed his anger and forced a stiff smile. But when he reached for Genevieve's shoulder, she sidestepped him effortlessly.

Awkwardly keeping his stance, Zachary coaxed, "Don't make a scene, Gen. Mom and Grandpa aren't strangers. We don't need to hide anything from them."

On the surface, it sounded like an explanation, but it was really a warning.

Raymond's eyes darted between them before settling on Genevieve. He sighed. "Gen, tell me the truth. What's going on? I've got your back. Don't be afraid."

Genevieve met Zachary's murderous glare head-on, yet she wasn't the least bit terrified.

"I'm not pregnant." She paused deliberately. "Because Zachary can't perform."

Sylvia's anger flared instantly. "What are you talking about? It's you who can't have kids, and now you're slandering Zachary? You're shameless!"

Zachary's veins bulged with fury, and he dropped the act altogether. "Genevieve Whitfield! I covered for you in front of Grandpa, and this is how you repay me? Have you no conscience?"

He actually made it sound heartfelt.

Genevieve smiled, unfazed. She then turned to Sylvia, who looked ready to lash out.

"You say I'm lying? Fine. Make him swear on it—that he told me on our wedding night that he couldn't… you know… Then let's see if he'll ever have kids."

Zachary swallowed hard, but no words came out. He had, after all, actually said it.

However, he couldn't understand why Genevieve, who was always so compliant, was acting like this that day.

Sylvia's heart lurched when she noticed his reaction, but she pressed, "Swear on it, Zachary! She's accusing you. What are you afraid of?"

"What's the point of that?" Zachary replied impatiently.

With him acting like that, there was nothing left to argue about.

Furious, Raymond slammed his hand against the edge of the bed, feeling utterly disgraced. He trembled as he pointed at Zachary. "Y-You ungrateful brat! You've embarrassed this family!"

He then turned to Sylvia and ordered, "Tomorrow, make sure he sees the best doctor and receives proper treatment!"

This was basically a public confirmation that Zachary really wasn't capable in that department.

Sylvia wanted to defend her son, but under Raymond's utterly disappointed gaze, she couldn't say a single word.

Raymond glanced at Genevieve, whose expression remained calm. A beat later, he waved them off. "You can all leave. I want to rest."

…

In the hallway, Zachary said nothing as he gripped Genevieve's wrist, dragging her along behind him.

She let him pull her all the way to the hospital entrance before finally stopping and trying to shake his hand off.

"Let go," she demanded icily.

Instead of letting go, Zachary's grip tightened. He fixed his gaze on her and barked, "Get in the car!"

Genevieve raised a brow, then slipped her free hand into her pocket. Her tone was unhurried as she asked, "Where to, Mr. Lambert? The show's over. I'm off the clock."

"Go back and cook!" Zachary ground out. "Grandpa's sick, and we can't rely on anything from out there. Make something and bring it here right away!"

His tone was commanding as he tried to regain some of his lost pride.

Genevieve let out a chuckle and lifted her gaze. "So, you know better than to trust anything from the outside, huh?"

In an instant, the image of pinning Regina against the glass flickered through Zachary's mind, sending his heart skipping a beat. But the thought vanished just as quickly.

There was no way Genevieve had figured anything out. He figured that it had to be a coincidence.

With that in mind, he regained his confidence.

Zachary couldn't be bothered to argue further. So, he reached out with his other hand, yanked Genevieve by the arm, and tried to shove her into the car nearby.

She didn't resist. Instead, she twisted her body slightly, using his momentum to send him stumbling.

In a flash, the tall Zachary lay sprawled in the middle of the bustling hospital entrance.

The passersby froze for a split second before bursting into unrestrained laughter. One commented, "What was that? Did his girlfriend just take him down in one move?"

"He's a big guy, but he's completely useless!" another added.

Zachary stiffened, utterly dumbstruck. He worked out religiously and took pride in his strength. Yet, against the slender Genevieve, all his effort counted for nothing.

He braced himself against the ground and looked up, shock and fury etched across his face.

The instant he met Genevieve's calm, indifferent gaze, she drew her foot back slowly and bent toward him. "Zachary, touch me again, and I'll make sure you really can't perform."

Dust and grit clung to his mouth as he stayed on the ground, utterly humiliated. Around him, people pointed and jeered, and his face turned ashen.

By the time he scrambled back to his feet, Genevieve had already gotten into a cab.

…

In the car, Genevieve made a call. But before she could say a single word, Hannah Brooks' frantic voice burst through the line.

"Gen! Something happened! The studio's been robbed!"

Genevieve furrowed her brow.

"All your unreleased works are gone! And they took almost all the valuable materials!" Hannah cried out.

Some of those materials had taken Genevieve ages to source. She felt a surge of anger and hissed, "They've got a lot of nerve stealing from me."

Frowning, she added, "Don't panic. Take inventory of what's left and make a list. I'll be there in an hour."

After ending the call, Genevieve tapped rapidly on her phone and pulled up the studio's surveillance footage.

But the screen was pitch black. Every surveillance line had been precisely cut at the time of the break-in.

"Idiots, you messed with the wrong person," she cursed under her breath.

…

Meanwhile, Zachary drove back to the office, seething with anger.

The moment he stepped into the office, Regina—who had been sorting through documents—came over to greet him. She noticed that he was rubbing his lower back and quickly stepped closer.

"What's wrong, Zach? Is your back hurting?" she asked gently.

Zachary went rigid. There was no way he could admit he had been tripped to the ground by Genevieve. His pride wouldn't survive it.

So, he brushed it off. "It's nothing. I just bumped into something at the entrance."

Sensing his reluctance, Regina changed the subject. After all, she wasn't genuinely concerned in the first place.

She lifted her slender wrist and held it beneath Zachary's nose. Her eyes gleamed with anticipation as she said, "Take a whiff. What do you think?"

Chapter 5

A crisp, cool fragrance filled Zachary's senses, instantly easing the irritation gnawing at him. The gloom in his eyes faded, and he exclaimed, "Regina, did you create a new scent?"

Seeing his reaction, Regina nodded lightly, a trace of pride gleaming in her eyes.

"You're a genius!" Zachary said without hesitation.

Then, he reached out, clasped her wrist, and leaned in to smell it again. "This is incredible. Let's make it our signature scent for next season!"

But Regina shook her head, smiled, and pulled her hand back.

"That won't do. There's only one bottle."

She looked up at Zachary, her eyes brimming with affection as she added, "I created this especially for you. It belongs to you alone. If you want something for the release, I can make an entirely new fragrance."

As soon as she finished speaking, he bent down and wrapped her in his arms. Pressing a kiss to her forehead, he muttered, "Thank you, darling."

Zachary continued, "By the way, the owner of URI Corporation just got back, and they're hosting a gala. My family received an invitation as well. Come with me. Your talent and your perfumes deserve to be seen by all."

Regina paused for a moment before delight and excitement washed over her.

"Really? I can go with you?" she asked softly.

Zachary nodded. "Of course. The gala is tomorrow night. It would mean everything to us if we could secure a partnership with URI Corporation. I believe that you can help me make it happen."

Regina bit her lip, feigning concern as she asked, "But… if Genevieve finds out, won't she be upset?"

At the mention of Genevieve, Zachary's expression darkened instantly. The memory of the humiliation he had suffered at the hospital earlier that day surged back, leaving him with nowhere to vent his anger.

"Don't talk about that unsophisticated woman!" Zachary scoffed, his voice edged with disgust. "How could she ever compare to you? It's settled. I'm taking you to the gala tomorrow."

With his answer confirmed, Regina stepped closer, rose onto her toes, and leaned toward his ear. Then, her voice softened into something seductive. "Zach, I sprayed some on my neck too. Smell it again. Doesn't it smell even better?"

The cool fragrance mingled with the warmth of her body made his nerves tingle.

Before Regina could react, Zachary's hand clamped around her waist. He lifted her effortlessly and pressed her down against the wide mahogany desk.

"Alright, you naughty little thing."

…

The moment Genevieve pushed open the studio door, a dense mix of fragrances rushed toward her.

Hannah was directing several employees as they inventoried the losses. When she saw Genevieve, she hurried over.

"Gen, you're finally here. Everything's a mess. But it's strange. Aside from the premium raw materials and the cabinet where you keep your semi-finished formulas, nothing else is missing."

Genevieve's gaze passed over Hannah and swept the room, noting the mess and how carefully someone had gone through it.

She clicked her tongue. It was obvious that whoever did this had her in their sights.

"Any suspects?" she asked calmly.

Hannah thought for a moment, then answered, "There were no signs of forced entry, so it had to be an inside job. Five employees resigned this week, but they've been with us since the beginning. I don't even want to think about it."

Genevieve lowered her gaze, her expression still as composed as ever. "I understand."

"Oh, right. URI Corporation reached out. They're interested in working with us," Hannah added, her gaze fixed on Genevieve. "They said they'd send someone tomorrow to take us to their gala to talk things through. Gen, are you going?"

But as soon as the question left her lips, Hannah already knew the answer.

For almost a year, Genevieve had stayed out of the public eye for Zachary's sake, afraid of causing him trouble. This time would probably be no different.

"I'm going. Why wouldn't I?" Genevieve met Hannah's gaze, and the corner of her lips curled into a smirk. "I like the sound of a partnership with URI Corporation."

Hannah froze. For a moment, she couldn't believe her ears.

"You're not afraid of Zachary anymore?" she asked instinctively.

Genevieve let out a scoff and sidestepped the question. "Get Jonathan back here immediately. I want him to handle the divorce."

"Who's getting divorced?" Hannah blurted.

A beat later, she finally understood. Her eyes widened in disbelief as she exclaimed, "You're divorcing him?"

When Genevieve looked at her blankly, Hannah finally recovered from her shock. She grabbed Genevieve's arm, and her voice shot up. "Oh my gosh! Genevieve! Are you finally getting a divorce?"

"How badly have you been hoping for this?" Genevieve asked, raising her brow.

"I've been wishing for it day and night!"

Hannah launched into a rant. "Zachary looks good on the outside, but he's rotten to the core! How was he ever worthy of you? Did he ever really understand you? Did he have any idea how much you gave up for him? He's completely oblivious!"

"You're right." Genevieve nodded in agreement. "So, get Jonathan back here immediately.

"I've put up with the Lambert family for a whole year—enduring emotional distress, losing my youth, and working myself to the bone. Asking for half the assets isn't too much, is it?"

Hannah nodded vehemently, her expression more serious than ever. "Not at all! How could it be? In fact, you're being far too generous!"

With that, she pulled out her phone and gritted her teeth as she dialed a number. "Just wait. I'm calling that brat Jonathan right now. I'll make him drop every case he's handling and come back to fight this for you. We're stripping the Lamberts down to the bone!"

…

It was late at night, yet Genevieve was still in the studio.

A strange yet perfectly balanced scent hung in the air. In her hands, the finest ingredients seemed to come alive, colliding and blending within the narrow test tubes.

Nearby, Hannah sprawled on the couch, yawning as tears welled at the corners of her eyes.

"Gen, is this really the gift you're giving the owner of URI Corporation for your first meeting? This scent… It feels aggressive. Are you sure he won't want to throw hands the moment he smells it?"

In fact, it was the most overpowering scent she had ever smelled.

Genevieve added the final drop of essential oil into the beaker. "A first meeting calls for a grand gesture. That's my way of showing sincerity."

The fragrance was called Regalia.

…

At exactly 9:00 am the next day, someone knocked on the studio door.

Hannah, sporting dark circles under her eyes, went to answer it. A man in a well-tailored suit stood outside.

"I'm Liam Palmer, assistant to the CEO of URI Corporation," he introduced himself. "I'm here on my boss' behalf to escort you to the gala."

Hannah stepped aside to let him in. All the while, she studied him discreetly.

Genevieve, on the other hand, was already prepared. She slid an elegant black velvet box toward Liam. It was the result of an entire sleepless night.

"This is a small token to commemorate the start of our partnership. I'd appreciate it if you passed it along, Mr. Palmer."

Liam's gaze lingered on the box for a moment. Then, he smiled, retrieved something from his briefcase, and slid it across the table. It was a USB drive.

"What a coincidence," he said pleasantly. "My boss prepared a gift for you as well. He said you'd definitely be interested."

Hannah's heart skipped a beat. She hadn't expected this to turn into a battle of equals.

With a straight face, Genevieve accepted the USB drive and immediately inserted it into the nearby laptop.

She then opened the folder. The screen lit up, and a video began to play.