Choose Her, Forfeit Me and All You Have

As the sole heir to the Thorne family in Mistwick City, Liora Thorne had made two fatal mistakes. First, she had dared to develop real feelings for her arranged marriage partner. Second, she had kept offering her heart to Killian Pierce, only for him to trample it again and again. The first time, doubled over in pain from acute gastritis, she had struggled to call him, only to hear his cold reply: "Go see a doctor. I'm busy." The thirty-sixth time, dazed after a car accident, she had barely whispered, "I've been in a crash," when he cut her off. "Liora, stop with the desperate attention-seeking—it's pathetic." Then he hung up. The fifty-second time, she was overjoyed about her pregnancy—until she overheard him telling a friend, "Liora and I? Purely business. You know I only love Lila." Five years of marriage had been reduced to "purely business." She had believed even an arranged marriage could blossom with enough care. Now, she finally saw the truth. Without hesitation, she instructed her assistant to schedule an immediate abortion. As soon as she recovered, she marched back and reclaimed the billion-dollar project she had handed to Killian. The moment she acted, he burst into her office. "Keep your hands off this project!" No greeting. No pretense. His intentions were crystal clear. Liora leaned back in her leather chair, casting him a frosty sidelong glance as she spoke to him with undisguised contempt for the first time. "Oh? This has always been my family's project. Why don't you explain who you think you are to stop me?" Killian's phone buzzed. His face darkened as he read the message, his voice edged with threat and anger. "Stay out of this project, or you'll regret it!" Then he spun on his heel and stormed out, slamming the door so hard the windows rattled. Liora followed him. His car led her to a suburban villa. A slender, pale-skinned woman stepped out. Something about her felt familiar. Then Liora saw her face. She clamped a hand over her mouth, biting down so hard she tasted blood as she stifled a gasp. Lila Pierce—the adopted daughter of the Pierce family. The woman who supposedly owned Killian's soul. Eight years ago, Killian had abandoned his family for her. He had worked as a food courier, then as a street vendor. Two years later, he returned alone. No one knew why. Some said Lila was dead; others claimed she had betrayed him. After that, he never mentioned her again. Liora had never expected to run into her like this. Lila stood in the wind, her thin dress fluttering. Killian hurried forward, shrugging off his coat and draping it around her shoulders with gentle care. "Listen to me," he murmured, his tone soft with concern. "Go rest. I'll handle the project. Don't worry." The stark contrast to the icy cruelty he had shown her made Liora bite her lip until it bled. Her nails dug into her palms, drawing crescents of blood. She had never known he could care for someone this deeply—nor that someone could occupy his heart so completely. She had spent five years trying to win that heart. She had failed. The wind stung her eyes as she tilted her head back, forcing her tears into a brittle smile. She staggered home in a daze, exhaustion weighing heavily on her. The chill of the afternoon seemed to seep into her bones—her fever rose in waves, her consciousness flickering like a weak signal. "Killian… so cold," she murmured. "Water… please…" Suddenly, warmth enveloped her. Someone pulled her upright and pressed a steaming mug into her hands. She gulped it down greedily, choking as tears streamed down her face. "Easy. Feeling better?" That voice. Her blurred vision slowly cleared—and there he was. Killian. She nodded, about to ask why he was there, but he spoke first. "You wanted to watch that movie with me, right? I'll get tickets. We'll go tomorrow." His sudden attentiveness made her stomach churn. "Killian," she rasped, "what do you really want? Besides the north district project?" "Liora!" His expression hardened. "You know Lila is back, don't you? My men saw you lurking around her villa. Stay the hell away from her! That project means nothing to you—why the sudden obsession? Are you after the business, or just using it as an excuse to hurt Lila?" His words grew sharper as he grabbed her jaw. Pain shot through her. Tears welled up as she threw her weight against him to break free. "Killian!" A bitter laugh tore from her throat. "You can keep a mistress, but I'm not allowed to expose your cheating? That project belongs to my family! I gave it to you because I wanted to—and I can take it back whenever I please! Get out. Now." Her trembling finger pointed at the door. He stared at her coldly, unmoved. Then he turned and left without a backward glance. Liora grabbed a pillow and hurled it at the door. Thirty minutes later, she dialed a number she hadn't contacted in a long time. "Rowan, I've made up my mind. Starting today, you're my man." If Killian could have a mistress, then she could have another man. She wanted to see who would be the first to wear the cuckold's crown.