The rain continued to fall, each drop a tiny hammer blow against the glass of the Lu mansion's conservatory. Xia inhaled, the scent of jasmine almost overwhelming, trying to anchor herself to the present. Zhenting’s words echoed in her mind: 'My mind tells me I owe Belle, but my soul belongs to you. This engagement is a lie.' How could she reconcile such a declaration with the ring on Belle's finger, the charade they were both forced to play?
Xia moved with deliberate slowness, pruning a wilting jasmine bloom. She snipped the stem, the sharp scent of the cut flower a bittersweet reminder of their shared secret. The storm outside mirrored the turmoil within her—a tempest of forbidden desire and impossible realities. She knew, with a bone-deep certainty, that indulging in her feelings for Zhenting would only bring ruin, not just to her, but to everyone involved.
Across town, in her opulent penthouse, Belle paced like a caged tiger. The news of Zhenting's canceled business trip gnawed at her. Her 'pregnancy' was becoming an increasingly precarious performance, and Zhenting's growing detachment threatened to expose her lies. 'That little tramp,' she hissed, the cloying scent of her expensive perfume filling the room, 'she thinks she can steal what’s mine?' Belle’s manicured nails dug into the plush velvet of her chaise lounge. She knew that Zhenting was increasingly obsessed with Xia, and she also knew that he seemed to have something that was hard to get from him. As time passed, Belle started to think about doing something more about Xia.
Back at the Lu mansion, Zhenting finished a call with his head of security, his voice a low growl. He’d doubled the guards around Xia’s suite and increased surveillance on Belle. He knew, with a chilling certainty, that Belle would not relinquish her grip on the Lu fortune without a fight. He ran a hand through his hair, the scent of sandalwood clinging to his skin, and thought about going to Xia, but remembered that it was a sensitive time for woman so he decided against it.
Later that evening, during dinner, an uncomfortable silence settled between Zhenting and Belle. The Lu matriarch's presence did little to ease the tension; the woman’s disapproval of Belle was becoming increasingly apparent. Madam Lu had always valued bloodline and genuine class, qualities she clearly felt Belle lacked. 'Zhenting,' Madam Lu said, her voice sharp as shattered glass, 'the engagement party is next week. Have you finalized the guest list?'