Chapter III

It was no wonder Chloe could be heartless enough to forge medical records and even stage a studio fire to frame me.

It turned out that the so-called terminal illness and depression were nothing more than a scam to keep a man.

I sent an encrypted email to Liam: "Chloe isn't sick. The truth is in the attached medical records and surveillance video."

As for whether he read it or not, that was no longer my concern.

The flight path for the private jet was approved for three days later; Damon had arranged it personally.

When Liam came back to get his passport, he saw me directing the maids to pack things up.

Half of the haute couture gowns in my walk-in closet were boxed up, with only a small portion being prepared for shipment to our vacation villa in the Hamptons.

"Why have you started packing clothes?" Liam asked with a confused look.

I answered casually, "Seasonal organization."

He was silent for a moment, sensing nothing amiss, and continued on his own train of thought:

"The Vance family has property in the Hamptons. It wouldn't be bad to go there for our honeymoon after we marry; it's good to pack early."

After saying that, he stared at me sternly.

"Apologize to Chloe as soon as possible. Don't make things difficult for me. How about at the dinner reception on the wedding day? What do you think?"

He tossed his phone onto a Louis Vuitton travel bag and began rummaging for his documents. Today was the day he and Chloe were going to the church for that absurd "ceremony."

He didn't return until late at night. I opened my phone, and a message from Chloe popped up.

In the photo, Liam and she were wearing matching white outfits, lying on a bed in some five-star hotel.

I closed my eyes. Even though I was trying hard to restrain myself, my heart still ached faintly, as if pricked by a needle.

I suppressed the nausea and turned off my phone.

Throughout the night, the phone on my pillow vibrated every hour. Each vibration was a video from Chloe showing her intimacy with Liam, demonstrating her power over me.

It wasn't until the next morning that I received a message from Damon.

"Ms. Vance, the trap is set."

Attached was a photo of a freshly signed marriage certificate and a bottle of 1982 Lafite.

I was surprised. Years ago, I had casually mentioned my favorite vintage at a wine tasting, and he had actually remembered it all this time.

Inexplicably, a strange emotion welled up in my heart.

I replied with a single word: "Good."

Putting down the phone, I went to organize the merger files on my computer. I didn't notice when Liam had returned.

He was packing daily necessities. "I'm going to stay at Chloe's for a few days. The psychological drop for her after the ceremony is too great to face alone. Remember to attend our wedding on time the day after tomorrow. Don't be late."

After that, he launched into a long-winded explanation, saying he was just helping take care of a patient normally and telling me not to cause any more trouble.

"Mm, I won't go," I said, lowering my eyes to look at the fountain pen in my hand.

After last night, the last shred of my lingering affection for him had completely dissipated.

Liam looked at my calm demeanor, and an inexplicable panic seized him. He suddenly became hesitant.

But thinking of Chloe's cloying entanglement and her so-called "illness," he loosened his grip on his phone.

Scarlett loved him so much; what could possibly happen? She couldn't live without his talent.

Thinking this, he breathed a sigh of relief, stopped pestering me, and disappeared from my sight.

Watching his retreating figure, I dialed a number.

In the evening, a helicopter landed on the helipad of the penthouse apartment.

A man in a black suit walked toward me. "Ms. Vance, the helicopter reserved by Mr. Wolfe has arrived. You will be safely delivered to his estate on Long Island in thirty minutes."

I nodded, then handed him a thick manila envelope.

"Deliver this envelope to the wedding venue tomorrow. It is my wedding gift to the bride and groom."

The next day, I sent Liam a message right on time:

"Happy Wedding!"

At the wedding venue, Liam kept looking toward the entrance of the banquet hall, asking his secretary:

"Why hasn't Scarlett Vance arrived yet? It was agreed that she would publicly apologize to Chloe today."

The secretary was flipping through news on a Bloomberg terminal, brows furrowed, cold sweat streaming down his face:

"Boss, she probably can't make it. She is currently busy with her own wedding."

Hearing this, Liam froze in the center of the banquet hall, the champagne in his hand nearly spilling.