Cassia froze, her mind a sudden, stark white canvas.

She wondered if the fever had truly fried her brain.

Otherwise, how could she recognize every single word in that sentence, yet be completely unable to comprehend its meaning?

She clicked on the photo. In the dim light of the car, only the back of a woman locked in a passionate kiss with a man was visible.

Just looking at the silhouette, even Cassia herself couldn’t be sure if it was her or Vivienne.

Their body types were indeed similar. In school, classmates had mistaken them for each other more than once.

But she and Damian both knew—she had been burning with a fever for two days. It couldn’t possibly have been her!

Or was it precisely because she hadn’t been anywhere, hadn’t left a trace of her whereabouts, that she was the perfect person to take the fall?

Cassia walked barefoot to the study, her face paler than it had been when she’d returned drenched in rain.

“Uncle…”

She couldn’t believe that at this very moment, Damian was on a video call with Vivienne, casually discussing which red wine to serve at the wedding.

Damian looked up at her, his brow furrowing.

He exchanged a few more words with Vivienne before ending the call and turning his gaze to Cassia. “Didn’t I tell you to find the butler if you need something?”

Cassia stiffly held up her phone. “Don’t you have anything to say about this, Uncle?”

There wasn’t a shred of guilt or remorse on Damian’s face, only a cool, dismissive, “Oh, you saw that.”

“Vivienne is at a critical point in her career right now. She can’t have any scandals. Just cover for her this once. It’s no real loss for you.”

As he spoke, his fingers toyed with his prayer beads.

Cassia’s face grew even whiter. She almost spat out the words: *All these years, was he cultivating Buddhism, or a path of heartlessness aimed squarely at me?*

She gave a bitter, broken laugh. “So my reputation doesn’t matter?”

“With a single, careless sentence, you’ve branded me with a stain I can never wash away?”

Damian’s fingers stilled. He stared at her, his gaze deep and inscrutable.

After a few seconds of silence, as if his patience had run out, he pinched the bridge of his nose, his tone laced with a weary exasperation. “Didn’t you want that lavender field back when you were seventeen? I’ll transfer the deed to your name, as compensation.”

Cassia couldn’t help but let out a scornful laugh.

When she was seventeen, Damian had bought a barren piece of land, originally intended for real estate development.

Because she had idly wished to bring a piece of Provence to New York, he had ordered countless lavender seeds to be planted there, promising to give her the lavender field once the flowers bloomed.

Then, they had their falling out.

Things had changed, people had changed, and the original promise was now nothing but a bitter memory.

Cassia’s eyes were red, her disappointment absolute. “Uncle, I’m not that little girl anymore.”

“I can’t be pacified with a sweet treat, and I won’t forget all the pain and sadness.”

With that, she turned and walked away, not bothering to see the sudden coldness that hardened Damian’s expression.

Truthfully, even before she had come to find him, she knew this would be the outcome.

The fact that he could say such a thing meant he would never consider her feelings.

Besides, one was his fiancée.

The other was just an adopted niece with no blood relation.

The choice was obvious. Anyone would have done the same.

Back in her room, Cassia leaned against the door, tilting her head back to keep the tears from falling.

She had promised herself she wouldn’t be sad over him anymore, so she wouldn’t cry for him again.

After that day, Cassia locked herself in her room.

She didn't want to see Damian, she didn't want to see Vivienne, and she certainly didn't want to know how the outside world was slandering her for her supposed "promiscuity."

Damian didn’t bother her. The butler, however, brought her three meals a day, urging her not to be angry with the Master, and that even if she was, she shouldn’t harm her own body.

Cassia had no intention of punishing herself. She ate every meal the butler brought.

Three days later, Damian took Vivienne on a trip.

His social media was filled with their sweet photos from all over the world.

These pictures quickly went viral, and the comment sections were flooded with envy.

【Damian is so in love with Vivienne. When will I ever meet a perfect man like that?】

【Renouncing his vows for love, dedicating his life to her and only her… Isn’t this straight out of a novel?】

【Oh God, if I can’t find a man who loves me like that, please just let me get rich overnight and become a billionaire!】

As she read these comments, Cassia was having the butler clear out all the pink decorations from her room.

The bedsheets were changed to black, the pillowcases to white. The desk was replaced with a solid wood one, and the lamp was the simplest model available.

She put down her phone and turned to the butler, suddenly asking, “When is my uncle’s wedding?”

The butler paused for a moment. “The Master and Ms. Thorne’s wedding is set for two weeks from now.”

Cassia smiled faintly. “What should I get him as a wedding gift?”

“He has everything, and I have nothing to give. For years, he’s been tired of my entanglement. Perhaps my complete departure would be the best wedding gift of all.”