Chapter 1

The entire upper crust of Los Angeles society knew that Julian Astor kept a beautiful canary.

They were all waiting to see when he would grow bored and when I would be kicked out of his villa atop the Hollywood Hills.

At a private party tonight, as the atmosphere grew hazy with drink, someone took advantage of the wine-induced courage to ask, "Julian, you and Lina have been together for nearly three years, haven't you? When do you plan on getting married?"

The music happened to dip in volume at that exact moment.

Everyone heard Julian's casual, amused drawl.

"Marriage? Lina is just a pet. Have you ever seen anyone put a ring on a canary?"

The crisp clink of colliding glassware rang out.

I stood by the edge of the terrace, gripping my champagne flute with icy fingertips.

Those words were like a blunt knife, carving into my heart stroke by stroke—not fatal, but painful enough.

The primary skill of a caged bird is the ability to force oneself to heal.

I quickly adjusted my expression, turned back toward the ballroom, and sat down beside Julian. He draped his arm around my waist with a natural ease, acting as if those words had never left his lips.

I leaned against his shoulder cooperatively, playing the part of the obedient pet.

By day, in front of the crowds, I played along with his moods, acting cute and offering kisses. By night, in his Hollywood Hills villa, I catered to his nearly predatory passion and met his every demand.

Julian was convinced I would never leave him.

That was why he dared to belittle me so flippantly in front of his friends.

In truth, I had no intention of marrying him either.

...

At the beginning of the month, I had already submitted my final onboarding documents for a highly classified project at the National Institutes of Health. I was preparing to leave this place forever.

After the party ended, Julian's chauffeur took me back to my student apartment at Caltech.

I walked into the dorm, wearing the Harry Winston "Starlight Cascade" jewelry he had just sent over.

My roommate, Laura, was packing her bags. Seeing the diamond necklace around my neck, she couldn't help but sigh, "My god, Lina, Julian Astor is certainly generous to you. Are you really willing to leave such a handsome and wealthy man?"

I looked at myself in the mirror. The diamonds made my neck appear long and elegant.

Julian had indeed spent a great deal of effort on me—holiday gifts were constant, and his black card was mine to spend.

But none of that meant his heart belonged to me.

"It won't lead anywhere," I said calmly, beginning to remove the expensive jewelry.

Laura patted my shoulder and shifted to a lighter tone. "Smart girl. Then enjoy these last thirty days in LA—your future is going to be just as brilliant."

In one month, my onboarding process would be complete, and I would head to the East Coast, to Maryland.

Furthermore, I had signed a top-secret agreement for national biomedical research. For the next five years, I would be unable to contact anyone from the outside world.

That included Julian.

I nodded to Laura, sent my signed non-disclosure agreement and personal files to the project director via encrypted email, then changed into casual clothes and left the dorm.

A light rain, rare for California, was falling. I ran toward the familiar black Koenigsegg and slid inside.

Julian had texted earlier, saying he would have the chauffeur pick me up for a gathering.

Because I had been organizing project files, I was ten minutes later than the agreed time.

If he was displeased later, I would have to find a way to soothe his temper.

Half an hour later, the car pulled up outside an exclusive private clubhouse in Beverly Hills.

I pushed open the door to a private room.

As soon as I entered, Julian reached out his arms and pulled me down onto his lap. His mint-scented breath brushed against my neck. "Why so late?"

Julian never displayed such intimacy in public.

I moved uncomfortably and looked up, only then noticing a group of wealthy young men surrounding a woman of extraordinary beauty.

They were speaking with mocking tones. "If you don't taste the tequila you're pitching first, how will we know if the liquor is any good?"

"What's going on?" I asked, confused.

Alex Chowne, sitting nearby, spoke up. "Don't mind us, Lina. We ran into an old acquaintance. She's a brand ambassador for a new distillery now, and we're just looking to 'take care' of her business."

"This doesn't look like taking care of her..." I watched the woman being forced to drink, feeling a twinge of pity.

I wanted to speak up for her, but just as I opened my mouth, Julian pressed me back into his embrace, his gaze carrying a warning chill.

In this circle, money was everything. My intervention might only make the woman's situation more embarrassing.

I had no desire to play the martyr, so I sensibly leaned against Julian's shoulder and fed a washed cherry to his lips.

But the woman suddenly walked toward us, her face etched with a stubborn pride as she looked at Julian.

"Julian, do you think you can get revenge on me this way? On Victoria Sterling?"

Hearing that name, my pupils contracted slightly.

Victoria Sterling—that name was a forbidden subject Julian Astor never mentioned. She was the one he had loved so much that he nearly broke his heart, the "one who got away."

Years ago, the Astor and Sterling families were both prominent East Coast dynasties of equal standing. The two of them were the golden couple of the Ivy League, sharing a love that was the envy of everyone.

But after only one month of dating, the Sterling family sought an alliance with a European conglomerate, and Victoria broke up with Julian.

It was said that Julian begged her all night in the rain, but he couldn't win her back.

Because of this, Julian became a laughingstock in that circle, known as the "king of the three-week fling."

And now, she was back.