Her mother often said, “Noey, us common folks, we just need a house. It doesn’t matter how big it is—even if it’s just one square meter, ten square meters—if it’s ours, that’s enough. Once the stake is driven in, we don’t have to drift anymore!”

Years ago, her father brought just a hundred dollars and her mother from the impoverished Dustland to start a new life in Mirage City.

They were fortunate, and worked tirelessly. In less than a year, they earned their first fortune. At that time, property prices were still low, and with a few hundred thousand dollars, they were able to buy land in North Suburb and build a decent home.

Then came the economic boom, and with it, property prices soared.

In recent years, however, the real estate market became saturated and began to decline. The bubble burst, and prices plummeted.

This downturn gave Noelle an opportunity to buy back the Hartwell family’s villa and allow her family to settle once again in Mirage City.

But...

“Callum Lockridge, what are you doing here?”

As Noelle stepped out of her car, she saw the familiar towering figure in the yard. The moon hung above, and the peach tree her mother and she had planted years ago had withered. The cold, silvery moonlight filtered through the tangled, dead branches, casting a mottled shadow over the man.

He was holding a cigarette.

A warm spring breeze blew, and the long ash from the cigarette fluttered away, sparks scattering into the air.

Hearing her voice, he turned and looked at her.

It was the first time he had truly met her gaze since their encounter in the clinic.

Noelle smiled bitterly. “Mr. Lockridge, long time... no see...”

“It’s been five years, Noelle Hartwell. I thought you were dead.”

His voice was deep, carrying a distinct smoky timbre.

But in Noelle’s painful memories, this man never smoked.

“No disappointment, Mr. Lockridge. I’m still alive. Sorry.” Noelle’s expression remained calm, as if they were mere strangers meeting at an insignificant moment in time.

Silence.

The wind stirred the dry branches, filling the air with a low rustling sound.

In a moment, Callum quickly snuffed out the nearly burned-out expensive cigarette with his bare hands. He didn’t even take a single puff.

He stepped toward her, his large hand rising, stopping just a few millimeters from her face.

Was he going to touch her face? Or hit her?

Noelle stood her ground, her gaze fixed directly into his.

He asked a strange question, “Noelle Hartwell, do you know why I became a negotiation expert, traveling all over the world?”

“No, I don’t.”

Yes, she once thought she understood him completely, like a worm in her stomach, knowing his every thought.

But then, five years ago... until that moment...

Pain!

Excruciating, dense pain! Her whole body hurt!

She deliberately scratched at the butterfly tattoo on her wrist with her long nails, digging into it like a knife through her sleeve.

Was it bleeding?

Noelle instinctively put on her smile, a survival mask she had crafted over the last five years of barely hanging on.

Callum seemed to notice something.

He quickly moved closer, a tense, restrained look on his face.

Noelle didn’t see it.

He grabbed her arm, trying to look at her wrist. Panicked, she impulsively slapped him across the face.

Smack!

The sound echoed sharply through the air.

“...”

The world seemed to go silent.

The dry branches snapped, and the cold moonlight spilled down like water, seeping into Noelle’s heart, leaving nothing but numbness and a desolate void.

Her cracked lips moved several times before a hoarse, almost laughable voice emerged. “Mr. Lockridge, you have a wife and children. Please, show some respect.”

Callum’s eyes were dark, unreadable.

He clenched his fist, the veins on the back of his hand bulging.

Noelle just wanted to finish the paperwork for the house as soon as possible to avoid any further complications.

She was about to contact the agent when he appeared, running with a briefcase in hand, arriving a bit late. "Sorry, sorry, Miss Hartwell, Mr. Lockridge! My car broke down halfway, and the traffic on the Third Ring Bridge was terrible..."

The agent seemed to be going through his usual routine, complaining about the city's overcrowded traffic.

After a few complaints, he got to the point. "Miss Hartwell, Mr. Lockridge is the owner of this villa. If you two can agree on the price today, we can proceed with the contract. Miss Hartwell, you mentioned needing a loan, right? The bank..."

"I’m not selling the house!"

Noelle wanted to say, “I’ll accept any price,” but just as the words reached her throat, they were silenced by Callum.

She frowned slightly. “Mr. Lockridge, this house belongs to the Hartwell family!”

It was a reminder to him—the tragedy from five years ago, the one that had dragged both of them into hell, had happened right here in this villa.

What did he want with this house?

To reminisce about his humiliation and the dark past?

Noelle was about to say something more when Callum interrupted her again. “Faye likes this place. I’ll give the house to her and the child.”

So, this man was truly devoted.

For her, for Faye, just because she said, "I like it," he could let go of his hatred for the Hartwell family and the past that had driven him mad?

And she—five years ago—had knelt before him, her forehead bloody from banging it, letting him trample on every bit of shame and dignity she had left as the Wealthy Miss.

She had begged, “Callum, please, for the sake of the child I carried, for the love I once had for you, please spare my father, spare the Hartwell family this one time. Please, I beg you...”

But the answer had been ruthless, merciless!

The love Noelle had received could never compare to what Faye got.

If a man truly loved a woman with all his heart, offering her his soul, even the deepest hatred—no matter how bloody—could be softened and dissipated by that love.

As Faye had said, she liked this villa, one filled with resentment and hatred for Callum.

He loved her, so for her, he would give up everything and move in.

See? One sentence from true love could easily crush her bleeding heart and the destruction of her family!

The house deal fell through.

Noelle knew this. Anything Callum decided, even if she screamed until her lips blistered, he wouldn’t change his mind.

Before getting in the car, she asked the agent, “Are there any other houses for sale nearby? I’d like to have a look.”

Mainly because her mother had gone mad but kept muttering about coming back here.

Perhaps she couldn’t buy back the original villa, but the surroundings were similar, and it would help her mother’s recovery.

Secondly, if her brother came back, and they still lived here, he’d be able to find them.

The agent nodded and flipped through his phone’s notes. “There are a few further out, but the owners aren’t in Mirage City. Would you like me to...”

“Noelle, stay away from here!”

Callum had also come out of the villa.

He stood beside his limited edition Ferrari. Under the streetlamp, the man exuded a natural, imposing aura. The kingly presence seemed to permeate the cool spring night, almost suffocating.

The agent shivered and quickly took a few steps back, as if wanting to flee.

Callum scoffed. “Faye’s pregnant. It’s inconvenient for her if you stay nearby. Don’t bother her.”

When Noelle heard this, she laughed. “Mr. Lockridge, what exactly are we to each other that makes you think I would bother your wife and your unborn child?”

During those years, Callum had never acknowledged their relationship to anyone.

Perhaps, to him, she was just a convenient outlet for his frustrations, an ex-lover discarded once he’d had enough.

Compared to Faye, the legitimate wife, what was she—just a forgotten, shadowed past?

Callum sneered. “No, you mean nothing to me. I just... don’t want to see you.”

Ah, so he thought she was trying to buy a house nearby just to harass him?

Just like those years when she had chased him?

Noelle sighed. “Mr. Lockridge, I’m married now...”