Love Disappears Before Dawn

Here, the humiliation and cold indifference felt endless. I was no longer the cherished little princess held lovingly in everyone’s hands. A fallen heiress, a mistress kept in the shadows—I wasn’t worthy of any of it anymore.

Under their stunned gazes, I threw the remaining belongings into the trash.

Everything in this house, along with the memories of old affections—I wanted none of it.

"Lauren, what kind of tantrum are you throwing now? You’ve already ruined this home!"

My brother’s face was livid, but he fell silent when he noticed the photo album lying in the trash.

He had always been a perfectionist. Now, he bent down, picked up the album and carefully wiped it clean.

His tone softened, "I know the family’s situation has been hard on you, but you can’t take it out on Fiona. She’s the one who gave the Hartley Family a lifeline. She’s our benefactor."

"These are just material things. If they’re gone, I’ll buy you new ones when we have money again. But this album isn’t something to throw away out of spite."

He placed the cleaned album in my hands. That thin book chronicled the story of the three of us. From the day I was born to my first words. From playing house to our official engagement. The three of us had grown closer with time, almost becoming a real family.

But love, when too deep, becomes fragile. Too much of anything leads to destruction.

That little bit of difference was the gap that pushed us into becoming strangers to the path of never seeing each other again.

After they left, I lit the photo album on fire. Years of memories and feelings were reduced to ashes.

In the flickering flames, my phone vibrated. It was a message from Davian reminding me that our agreement’s deadline was approaching.

Attached was a link to an article with the headline:

[Sinclair Family Heir Spends Millions on a Pink Diamond Necklace for His Future Mistress.]

In the accompanying interview, Davian exuded arrogance, his expression utterly self-assured.

"If the Hartley Family is willing to offer their daughter as my mistress, the least I can do is treat her well."

The news had gone viral, sparking outrage online. But strangely, I felt calm.

I woke up early on the third day, hoping to say goodbye to my family. I saw Fiona crying in Noah’s arms when I entered the living room.

"I don’t mind suffering but can’t let the Hartley Family’s reputation be dragged down. Besides, I already have someone I love in my heart. Once I’ve helped the Hartley Family through this crisis, I’ll prove my resolve with my life!"

My brother and Noah rushed to comfort her. One swore his undying love; the other vowed to confront Davian head-on.

I didn’t interrupt. Instead, I quietly sat down and began knitting a scarf.

Davian had presented me with such a “gift.” It was only fair that I prepared something in return.

Noah shot me an annoyed glance.

"Lauren, you have time to knit a scarf? Have you seen how the internet is tearing Fiona apart? She’s an innocent girl—how is she supposed to bear this kind of humiliation?"

Fiona was "innocent."

The Hartley and Radford families were proud of each other.

That’s why he cared about the Hartley Family’s future and reputation and cared about Fiona’s well-being. But no one cared about me.

Seeing I didn’t respond, my brother grabbed the yarn from my hands. The thread scraped against my healing wound, reopening it. Blood seeped out, staining the white yarn red.

The scarf I had worked on through sleepless nights was ruined.

Tears I had suppressed for so long finally spilled over. I looked up at them, my voice trembling.

"If I were the one going to the Sinclair Family, would you be reacting like this?"

"What are you even talking about? Stop being jealous! Don’t think that knitting a scarf will make us forgive you for what you’ve done to Fiona. You—"