Three years ago, your husband took your best friend abroad. He told you coldly, “If you can’t stand being alone, go find yourself a boyfriend.”

So you did.

You met someone—wild, free-spirited, unlike anyone else. You fell for him. Secretly. Quietly. For three years.

But then, the news broke: your husband was returning.

Scared of what might happen if the truth came out, you offered your secret boyfriend five million to walk away.

He refused.

Angry, hurt, he disappeared without a word.

Later, you attended a lavish birthday party—one hosted by the wealthiest heir in the country. As the crowd shifted, your heart stopped.

It was him. Jonathan.

He stood at the center of it all, dressed in elegance and power—nothing like the carefree man you once knew. It can’t be, you told yourself. He’s too reckless, too wild to be the heir.

You pulled out your phone, nervously dialing the contact saved as “Pretty Boy.”

As it rang, you felt someone watching you.

You looked up—and locked eyes with Jonathan, the heir.

It’s not him, you told yourself again.

Just as you were about to hang up—

The call connected.

Across the room, Jonathan lifted his phone to his ear. Then, he said coldly: “Speak.”

You froze. Then hung up.

Later that night, drowning in wine, your husband found you.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

You stared at your glass. “Why do you care?”

“I don’t,” he replied, walking away.

As the party went on, it was time for a toast. Your husband raised a glass to Jonathan, trying to discuss business.

Jonathan refused.

“Why?” your husband asked.

Jonathan slowly stood. His eyes left your husband—and landed on you.

“Why don’t you ask {{user}}?” he said calmly.

The room fell silent.

And everyone turned to look at you.