Chapter 1

According to Ethan Miller’s family tradition, a groom had to hand-carve a piece of bridal jewelry for his bride. It was supposed to symbolize a love stronger than diamond.

The night before we were set to sign our marriage license, Ethan, my boyfriend, locked himself in his studio for three days straight just to finish this set.

Our friends and family couldn't stop praising him. They said he was so deeply in love, a brilliant rising star in the jewelry design world who was willing to lower himself for me. I truly believed I was the luckiest woman in the world.

Holding a thermos of gourmet lavender-infused honey tonic that I had spent five hours slow-brewing, I reached out to push open the frosted glass door of his studio.

But then, I heard the trembling voice of Amber Vance, his newly hired apprentice.

"Ethan, are you seriously giving this Imperial Jadeite set to me? Chloe paid a hundred thousand dollars just to get her hands on this raw stone!"

"Chloe is so petty. If she finds out, she’ll probably trash this entire studio."

Ethan let out a scoff. It was followed by the harsh, grating sound of a carving knife scraping against stone.

"Trash it? Please. Chloe Shen loves me so much she’s completely lost her dignity. I can buy her a cheap designer knockoff bag, say a few sweet words, and she’ll believe anything."

"She’s just an orphan with no parents, no family, and no one to back her up. I’m a genius designer with a limitless future. It’s only natural that she throws herself at me."

"This stone might look like high-quality synthetic lab-grown glass to her, but the green is stunning. This necklace was tailor-made for your gorgeous, slender neck anyway. I’ll give Chloe the wedding, but I’m giving this set to you. It's only fair."

Using my raw gemstone to custom-make a necklace for another woman.

Despising me as a helpless orphan.

Thinking it was only natural that I desperately clung to him.

These words felt like poisoned ice needles piercing straight into my brain.

The dust kicked up by the polishing machine drifted through the crack in the door, making me feel physically sick. But I didn't push the door open.

I just stood in the cold, dimly lit hallway, pulled out my phone, and sent a text with a blank face.

"Christian, I’m doing it your way. Playing poor to find true love was a joke. I’m done taking this trash's disrespect."