My Reborn Admirer Wins Over My Heart Free Preview

“Ms. Sterling, your flight to Jindiwood departs in fifteen days. Upon arrival, a representative will escort you directly to city hall to process the paperwork,” a respectful voice announced over the line.

“Alright,” Oriana Sterling replied with a small nod.

—

Oriana set her phone down and lifted her gaze to the hundred-inch screen in front of her. On it was a man whose presence struck like a blow to the heart.

His hair was trimmed short and neat, his brows sharp, his eyes clear and commanding. A perfectly tailored suit traced the lines of his tall frame. He walked with calm elegance, and the gilded leopard-headed cane in his hand was nothing more than an elegant accessory.

Grant Holloway, young and accomplished, was the rising star who had pushed domestic AI technology to new heights. Earlier that year, he’d dazzled at an international tech conference, and within two months, he had become one of the most sought-after names in the field.

As he strode calmly out of the conference hall, reporters surged forward. “Mr. Holloway, you named your first independently developed AI software Aurora. Will there be a follow-up series under the same name?”

“No,” Grant answered.

The proud man fixed his eyes on the camera, his striking features softening with a rare trace of warmth. “Countless stars form the aurora. It comes from the name of someone important in my life.”

Applause broke out.

A ripple of gasps swept through the crowd.

No one had expected the genius of the tech world to reveal such devotion to a woman.

But before the reporters could press further, Grant stepped into his car and disappeared.

Oriana sat transfixed long after the screen went dark.

Everyone knew about her infatuation with Grant.

She had chased after him relentlessly, undeterred by his indifference, his cutting remarks, his constant dismissal.

Then came the car accident. Grant was left crippled, drowning in self-loathing. Oriana stayed. She endured his cruel words, his cold fury, his violence, never wavering as she helped him rise again, one painful step at a time.

But when the Sterling family brought home its biological daughter, Luna, everything changed. Learning that Luna had suffered for years, the family turned on Oriana overnight. They claimed she had stolen the privileged life that never belonged to her.

Her world collapsed. The parents and brother who had once cherished Oriana cast her aside without hesitation.

When no one else would stand by her, it was Grant, limping, bitter Grant, who carried her home on his back. He guarded the fragile spark of hope in her heart with careful hands.

And now, it was also he who had snuffed it out.

—

“Oriana, what’s got you so lost in thought?” a voice sounded.

The man she’d just watched on television now stood in front of her. Grant’s hand brushed gently against the back of her head, his deep-set eyes full of concern.

“Sorry, I wasn’t there for you right away,” he murmured. “Zara told me your grad school application didn’t go through.”

As always, he reached to pull her into his arms.

But Oriana raised a hand and stopped him.

Her lips were pale, her eyes clear and steady as they dropped to his cuff.

The cufflink was a black pearl, her gift to him back in freshman year, bought with six months’ worth of wages from a part-time job at the campus diner.

And right beside that pearl gleamed a bold, unmistakable lipstick mark.

Grant followed her gaze, his brows tightening. “Ivy tripped while shielding me from the press earlier. I helped her up; that’s when it happened.”

“I’ll have her reassigned. I don’t need a female assistant,” he added quickly.

Then, catching the look on Oriana’s face, he tried to tease. “What’s this, Oriana? Jealous?”

She swallowed down the ache in her chest and forced her eyes away. “No.”

Grant chuckled, unconvinced.

She cared for him too much; of course, she was jealous.

She was just too shy to admit it.

He tapped the tip of her nose playfully. “You say no, but your heart says yes.”

Oriana’s lips curved faintly. And then, without warning, she asked, “I’m twenty years old now. Doesn’t that mean I can stop depending on the Holloway family?”

Oriana had nowhere to go after the Sterling family threw her out. Her birth parents had long since passed away. It was Grant who stepped forward, offering to take her into the Holloway family and become her legal guardian.

Grant didn’t seem to care. He even chuckled, “Once we get married, you’ll still be part of the Holloway family. Changing labels over and over again seems pointless, doesn’t it?”

Married?

Oriana could only think he had gotten far too deep into his act. By now, after three years, Grant was fluent in deceiving her with words that rolled effortlessly off his tongue.

The graduate school admissions list was already finalized. Everything had settled. He no longer feared she might cause trouble.

Grant tapped her nose lightly before rising and walking toward the master bedroom. “Tonight I’ll make your favorite chicken wings and roasted lamb chops. And I’ll even let you have ice cream,” he said.

He had always forbidden her from eating too much dessert, warning that sweets and cold treats were bad for her health.

Tonight, he was granting her a rare indulgence—like tossing a small pet a treat for good behavior.

He returned a few minutes later, his bespoke suit replaced with comfortable sleepwear, his steps uneven but steady. This time, he didn’t give her the chance to refuse. He pulled her forcefully into his arms.

He breathed in the scent of her hair, clinging to it as though it were an addiction.

His low, husky voice brushed her ear. “Losing the graduate spot doesn’t matter. You’ll ace the exam next time. Don’t be upset; I’ll help you prepare.”

He rubbed her head gently in comfort, then let go and slipped into the kitchen.

The sliding door closed behind him. A single tear welled at the corner of Oriana’s eye, trailing slowly down her pale cheek, leaving behind only bitterness.

Lost?

No, her place hadn’t been lost. It had been stolen.

Grant had once sworn under a shower of falling stars that he would cherish and protect her for life. Yet under the authority of being her legal guardian, he had stolen Oriana’s graduate school quota and handed it to Luna.

He knew her dream; ever since she’d watched her grandmother suffer and die of cancer, Oriana had vowed to become an oncologist, to save others from that pain.

He knew how hard she had worked, finishing at the top of her class, skipping two grades, all for the chance to study under Jindiwood University’s Medical College’s famed oncologist, Professor Cormac Flint, who accepted only one student every four years.

The day Oriana submitted her application documents to Kirk Locke, the program coordinator, she overheard familiar voices from inside the office.

“Mr. Sterling, are you certain Mr. Holloway really intends to withdraw Oriana’s application? Shouldn’t we at least ask her opinion?” Kirk’s voice wavered.

Her father, Bramwell Sterling, the man who had raised her for seventeen years, answered in a steady tone. “That’s right. There’s no need to consult her.”

Grant, the same man who had promised to make her the happiest woman alive, was there too.

“I’m her legal guardian,” he said firmly. “I can make this decision for her.”

Kirk inhaled sharply, struggling to protest. “But Oriana has spent the last two years in the library every evening without fail. Rain or shine, she’s been working toward this. Why would she suddenly give it up?”

Bramwell chuckled coldly, “There’s only one slot. Professor Flint has already agreed to take my daughter. Kirk, surely you wouldn’t embarrass Professor Flint by refusing him this favor, would you?”

Two years ago, Bramwell’s daughter had meant Oriana.

Now, his daughter was only Luna.

Grant spoke again, his voice low and calm. “Oriana has the ability. She can test in. And even if she fails, I’ll take care of her.”

Bramwell snapped, his voice sharp and hostile, “Grant, don’t forget. I was the one who paid for your expensive treatments back then. I let you take Oriana away so she wouldn’t have a claim on her grandmother’s inheritance. And now Luna begged me to secure you funding—funding that made your reputation soar. And you still talk about taking care of Oriana? Where does that leave my daughter?”

Grant’s voice grew heavy. “Mr. Sterling, don’t worry. Everything I promised her, I will keep.”

Bramwell narrowed his eyes. “And what do you plan to do with Oriana?”

“I have my own arrangements,” Grant replied curtly.

“Hmph. You’d better keep your word,” Bramwell warned.

Outside the door, Oriana’s eyes burned red as disbelief crashed over her. Her blood turned to ice; her chest ached so violently she could barely breathe.

All those times she had begged her father not to abandon her, he hadn’t refused out of principle, but because he was afraid she’d claim part of the inheritance.

When Grant appeared and carried her away, it wasn’t God answering her prayer; it was a deal struck between two men.

The two people she had trusted most in this life were standing side by side, carving at her with the sharpest blades, stripping away her flesh, her heart, her soul.

—

Her phone buzzed. Oriana, her cheeks wet with silent tears, unlocked the screen with trembling fingers. Instagram refreshed. At the top was a post from Luna, uploaded just a minute ago.

Luna posted, “Secured my graduate spot! Thanks to my amazing dad, mom, and Owen. A pity he couldn’t be here.”

Attached was a family photo, gifts piled high around her, everyone beaming.

And beneath it, it was a selfie of Luna’s delicate face glowing under dim lights, her eyes hazy with drunken delight.

The location tag marked a bar.

Oriana instantly recognized the shade of Luna’s lipstick—exactly the same as the mark she’d seen on Grant’s shirt.

Suddenly, the clatter of pots and pans burst from the kitchen. Grant emerged, face drawn tight, forcing his injured leg to steady as he walked out.

He glanced at her, not noticing the tears she had just wiped away.

His voice was full of apology. “Oriana, I’m sorry. Something urgent came up at the office, and I need to head out. You don’t know how to cook; just leave the ingredients. I’ll have dinner delivered from the hotel. Be good and stay home.”

After fussing over the details, he grabbed his cane and rushed out the door.

In his haste, he even forgot to switch off the kitchen vent.

Oriana lowered her eyes to the glowing phone screen. A new message had popped up.

Grant texted, “Don’t drink anymore. I’m coming to you.”

Five seconds later, it was deleted.

So, the sharp, composed leader of his programming team did lose his grip sometimes. He had nearly slipped.

Oriana’s eyes burned again, the ache in her chest pressing hard, threatening to spill over.

When had it started between them?

Grant, with his near-obsessive cleanliness, never even allowed the housekeepers to stay overnight. Yet he had welcomed Luna into their small, private world, given her the passcode, and let her spend the night whenever she wished.

Grant, who loathed taking photos, had made an exception when his breakthrough in AI architecture sent the country into a frenzy. He had allowed Luna to record him, posting a video of her feeding him food.

There were too many exceptions and too many signs of favoritism, more than Oriana could count and enough to erase her place entirely.

Grant always claimed to be her guardian, the one with authority over every part of her life.

If he had the power to decide she should give up her graduate slot, then she would decide to give him up—hand him over to Luna.

Oriana created a profile on a matchmaking site, and within two days, she had arranged her marriage.

The man was a stranger she had never met. But as long as it got her out of Grant’s world, she would pay any price.

Soon after, her flight confirmation arrived. She saved the departure time in her calendar.

Fifteen days left. Alone, she would pack what little she had. It was enough.

Grant didn’t come home that night.

For the first time in three years, Oriana slept until her body woke naturally.

In the past, Grant had been consumed with building his company. Even though she wasn’t much of a cook, Oriana always woke early on her free days, picking up breakfast from the café downstairs so he would never start his day hungry.

Now, when she unlocked her phone, she found several missed calls from him and two unread messages.

The first came at 2 a.m. “It’s too late. I’ll stay at the office tonight and head back tomorrow morning. Good night, Oriana.”

The second had been sent an hour ago. “Sorry, Oriana. There are still a few loose ends to handle. I’ll wrap things up this afternoon and come back to keep you company.”

Just then, her best friend, Zara Radcliffe, popped up on a video call.

Oriana answered, and Zara’s face nearly filled the screen, eyes sparkling with excitement. “Big gossip, Oriana! Luna’s dating! She’s livestreaming on TikTok right now, strolling along the beach with her boyfriend. She even showed off a hickey on her neck, bragging that her man was so worn out he had to rest today.”

The words detonated in Oriana’s mind. Her body reacted faster than her thoughts; her stomach lurched, bile rising.

Clamping a hand over her mouth, she trembled uncontrollably.

“Oriana, you’re disgusted, too, aren’t you?” Zara teased.

But seeing Oriana’s color drain, she quickly sobered. “Wait? You don’t look good. Are you sick? Where’s Grant? Isn’t today your birthday? And he’s not even here?”

“I’m fine. Probably just low blood sugar,” Oriana murmured.

She bit down hard on her lip, copper filling her mouth.

A deep breath, a forceful swallow, and she steadied herself again.

Her blood-tinted tongue brushed her lips as she rasped, stopping Zara before she could dial Grant. “Zara, don’t. He’s busy with work.”

Zara’s face darkened. “Busy? Typical. Men chase success and forget the woman who stood behind them. Doesn’t he know what day it is? Back then, no matter how packed your schedule was, if he needed you, you dropped everything and ran to his side. And what about him? That ungrateful—”

She froze, hand flying to her mouth.

Damn. She hadn’t meant to say that part out loud.

Oriana adored Grant; she hated hearing anyone insult him.

But before Zara could backtrack, Oriana beat her to it. “Yes,” she muttered hoarsely. “He’s a jerk.”

Zara blinked, stunned.

For a second, she wondered if her ears were playing tricks.

“Oriana, did you just call Grant a jerk?” Zara said.

Oriana didn’t deny it. “Yes.”

“Holy hell. Did pigs just sprout wings? I actually lived long enough to hear you curse—and at Grant of all people!” said Zara.

Her best friend knew better than anyone just how deep Oriana’s feelings for him ran.

When Grant dismissed her, mocking the spoiled heiress who had nothing better to do than play at love, Oriana never gave up.

Oriana had endured every slight, every bruise, until she finally broke through his armor.

Now, he adored her, shielded her, and their life together seemed golden. Yet here was Oriana, the one turning away from him first.

It was surreal.

Then Zara remembered something—the other day, she had glimpsed Oriana searching on Aurora for how to leave a family. Her sixth sense as a woman blared like a siren.

“Wait a sec. Oriana, that search for leaving a family? Don’t tell me something’s wrong between you and Grant?” Zara said.

A self-deprecating smile tugged at Oriana’s lips.

Even through a screen, Zara could sense that something was off.

Yet Grant, who lived with Oriana every day, hadn’t seen a single crack.

“Don’t overthink it, Zara,” Oriana said softly.

Zara wasn’t tall, but she was all firepower. Fiercely protective, she had been Oriana’s champion from the very start.

When the Sterling family brought Luna home, Zara had stormed into their house to defend Oriana. Owen Sterling had shot his mouth off, and Zara had floored the tall man with one punch, knocking out a tooth. The grudge between them still hadn’t cooled.

Oriana didn’t want her best friend worrying, and she dreaded Zara picking another fight with Grant.

Zara, sensing her silence, figured Oriana was still reeling from losing her grad school spot. She let it drop.

She finished the call with a warm, “Happy birthday, Oriana. I’ll bring your gift and cake in a few days.” Then the screen went dark.

Left alone, Zara opened Aurora and looked up ways to cut ties with a family. Two results appeared.

She should own a property or get married.

Oriana hadn’t even graduated yet. The Sterling family had long since cut off her allowance. Buying a house was out of the question.

As for marriage?

Grant was her first boyfriend. She had never dated anyone else. Was Oriana supposed to suddenly grab some stranger off the street and tie the knot?

It was impossible.

Oriana’s love for Grant ran bone-deep.

Zara sighed, shaking her head. A hollow ache pressed against her chest.

She had never liked Grant.

He was arrogant, self-centered, always above it all.

Even three years ago, when Oriana had finally won him over and he started protecting her, Zara hadn’t warmed to him.

Compared to everything Oriana had sacrificed for him, what Grant had done for her wasn’t even a drop in the bucket.

After washing up, Oriana had no appetite. She changed her clothes, ready to head out.

Grant had only rented the new apartment after the Aurora got popular, just to avoid reporters camping outside.

One unit per floor had a facial recognition entry, absolute privacy.

On the very first day they moved in, Grant had taken her around the nearby mall for an entire day, buying her new clothes, handbags, and jewelry in bulk.

Oriana thought it was a terrible waste, but Grant’s eyes sparkled as he held her close and promised, with deep affection, “No, it’s not enough, Oriana. Trust me, I’ll give you the very best this world has to offer.”

Back then, Oriana had smiled so sweetly, nodding again and again, her heart bursting with so much happiness she felt dizzy.

Now, staring at the closet where her clothes were pressed against Grant’s, she nearly gagged.

It was filthy.

Her knuckles went pale as her fingers clenched unconsciously.

After a long pause, she pulled out a suitcase and began packing up all her own belongings, leaving behind the things Grant had bought for her.

She even abandoned the few pieces of her clothing that had been stored right next to his.

They felt tainted. She didn’t want them anymore.

She carried her packed luggage to her dorm at school before heading out to see Kirk.

“Oriana, you’re not planning to continue with grad school?” Kirk asked in surprise.

He looked stunned, clearly ready to talk her out of it. “It’s really a shame to lose your guaranteed admission. But Oriana, with grades like yours, you’d easily get in through the regular exam—”

“Kirk, I don’t want to pursue grad school anymore. You asked me before if I’d consider applying to be a teaching assistant at Jindiwood University’s Medical College. I’d like to give it a try,” she said.

She paused, her gaze earnest as she looked straight at him. “Kirk, please don’t tell my family about this.”

Something seemed to click for Kirk. His brows relaxed, and he nodded in realization. “Alright, I promise. Fill out the form, and I’ll turn it in for you.”

“Thank you, Kirk,” Oriana said softly.

She picked up the pen and carefully filled in each line.

When she reached the section on marital status, her pen froze for two seconds. Then, with firm strokes, she wrote, “Married.”

By four in the afternoon, Oriana arrived at Season Coffee Shop, a trendy hotspot in the city center.

She changed into her uniform, applied a light layer of makeup as required, then put on a mask and protective glasses before starting her shift.

“Welcome,” she greeted politely.

Following her coworker to the front, Oriana bowed slightly when a young couple, their arms linked, walked in.

When she looked up again, her gaze collided with the man’s—an unintentional glance that caught her completely off guard. She froze.

“I told you, the staff here are all gorgeous. Grant, even you can’t take your eyes off them,” a teasing voice chimed.

Luna laughed with reckless delight, her spoiled voice dripping with possessiveness.

Grant’s eyes lingered on Oriana’s face for three seconds before turning away, calm and indifferent.

Oriana slowly lowered her gaze. He hadn’t recognized her.

She’d kept her part-time job at Season Coffee Shop a secret from him. In the spare hours she had left from preparing for her graduate recommendation, she wanted to save enough money to buy Grant a new laptop bag as a gift for their third anniversary.

He had been using the same bag from two years ago, one that no longer matched his current status. Lately, Grant simply carried his laptop in his hand.

But now, spotting the familiar corner of that very laptop peeking out of Luna’s Dior tote, Oriana’s fingers tightened uncontrollably around the menu. Her knuckles turned pale.

“Happy birthday, Luna,” a voice chimed.

The shop owner, Nina Reed, came over with a warm smile and pulled Luna into a hug.

When they separated, Nina caught sight of the cold, striking man standing beside her. With a teasing lift of her chin, she asked, “So this is the guy who left your neck covered in hickeys?”

A flush crept across Luna’s face as she sneaked a glance at Grant. Still, she managed to say coyly, “Grant already has a girlfriend.”

Nina’s sharp gaze flicked between the two of them, obviously catching on but choosing not to expose anything. She hooked her arm through Luna’s and led her toward a table.

On the way, Nina pointed at Oriana. “Come serve them.”

Oriana’s throat felt parched. She swallowed hard, even though it did nothing to ease the dryness, and followed them numbly.

She handed over the menu, about to speak, when Luna cut her off with cheerful enthusiasm.

“Nina’s cakes are all amazing. Remember the one at our company celebration? Everyone polished it off in no time,” Luna gushed.

Grant remembered and asked, “How far in advance do we need to order?”

Nina assumed he was scrambling to make up for not preparing a cake. “Luna’s birthday cake is already waiting in the back. Mr. Holloway, it’s too late for you to order one now.”

Grant’s brows drew together ever so slightly, but he said nothing more. He selected their drinks and handed the menu back to Oriana.

His expression remained distant, yet his words carried quiet thoughtfulness. “Matcha milk, no ice.”

Grant never drank milk. That drink was for Luna.

When Luna was a child, she’d once fallen ill after being caught in the rain. Afterward, Evelyn Sterling, her mother, pampered her endlessly.

Oriana remembered a night when she and Grant had gone to the movies. He showed up half an hour late, sweating and breathless, with two iced colas in hand. “Picked them up on the way. We can drink while we watch,” he’d said.

Seeing him so exhausted, Oriana had only felt sorry for him. She never blamed him, even though he knew she had a stomachache and still handed her a cold drink.

She used to tell herself that with everything on his plate—building a company, juggling endless responsibilities—it was already rare for him to make time for her. Forgetting small details was perfectly normal.

Only now did Oriana realize the truth. He had always been sharp enough to remember.

He just never cared to remember when it came to her.

Her lips curled into a bitter smile. She placed their order without showing an ounce of emotion.

When she later delivered the drinks, Nina was busy prying for gossip. “So, birthday girl, what did your boyfriend get you?”

Luna’s smile was radiant. “A necklace.”

“Don’t tell me you’re talking about that string of hickeys?” Nina teased.

“Nina, stop it,” Luna giggled.

Blushing, she gave Nina a playful slap, then reluctantly tugged down her turtleneck under Nina’s insistent stare, revealing a sapphire wave necklace.

A lace-style chain with a large sapphire at its center was extravagant and stunning.

“Whoa, that’s huge. And it sparkles like crazy!” Nina exclaimed.

She gave Grant a big thumbs-up. “Looks like he’s got deep pockets. Big spender.”

Luna quickly adjusted her collar back into place, her delicate face now tinged pink.

With a shy smile, she added, “He always says giving me the best in the world still isn’t enough. And tonight, he promised to stay up with me till midnight to watch the fireworks.”

“You’ve got a strong family background, impressive skills, and you’re about to start grad school at Jindiwood University. Who wouldn’t want a girlfriend like you? No wonder he spoils you,” Nina praised her loudly.

Customers and staff alike shot Luna envious looks.

“They’re such a perfect couple—handsome guy, gorgeous girl. Talk about lucky,” someone said.

Everyone naturally assumed Luna and Grant were together.

Luna’s smile deepened, her damp eyes shining as she looked at him, sweetness impossible to hide.

Grant, still replying to work messages on his phone, offered no clarification.

Clearly, this was routine for him.

Oriana forced a smirk and set down the matcha milk in front of Luna. “Didn’t you just say Mr. Holloway already has a girlfriend? Then why are you showing off your boyfriend while staring at him like that, Ms. Sterling? You’re trying to make people misunderstand?”

Gasps rippled through the crowd. “What? They’re not actually together? Then why are they glued at the hip like that?”

“I literally saw them walk in holding hands. This isn’t some formal banquet. Guess rich people have their own etiquette I’ll never understand,” another one chimed in.

Luna’s expression changed instantly, her eyes reddening with grievance. “W-What nonsense are you spouting?”

Nina’s face darkened, fury flashing across her features. “How dare you say something like that? Starting tomorrow, don’t bother coming back to work.”

Oriana calmly removed her badge. “No need. I quit right now.”

Grant’s head jerked up in shock as he watched the woman turn and walk away. A sudden wave of unease churned in his chest.

She looked like Oriana—yet at the same time, nothing like her.

The Oriana he remembered was gentle, soft-spoken, never one to argue or fight.

Three years ago, when she had been cast out by the Sterling family, she had only cried until her eyes were swollen, fragile, and helpless—not like this woman who had questioned him coldly, with unwavering strength.

Something clicked in his mind. He pulled out his phone and realized his two unread messages to Oriana had both gone unanswered. His expression shifted.

“I have something to take care of. I’ll ask Owen to drive you back,” Grant said flatly.

“Grant—” Luna called after him.

But Grant was already on the phone, striding out without so much as a glance back.

Whispers rippled through the café, growing louder. Luna’s face went pale as she bit down on her lip in anger and humiliation.

—

After collecting her paycheck, Oriana removed her makeup, changed clothes, and headed home—only to find Grant already back, earlier than usual.

The moment he heard the door, he shot up from the couch, abandoning his cane, his uneven steps quick and heavy as he rushed toward her.

Before she could say a word, he wrapped her tightly in his arms.

“Where were you? Why didn’t you answer my messages?” he demanded.

The expensive cologne clinging to him made her stomach turn. Oriana pressed against his chest, pushing him away.

Grant’s face reflected both shock and hurt. “Oriana?”

She clutched at her chest. “I was at school, cleaning up my dorm. I’m just tired.”

His eyes flicked down to her sleeves, smudged faintly with dust. The tension in his brow eased.

Right—she couldn’t have been that woman. Oriana never made scenes, never embarrassed him in public.

“Why clean the dorm? You don’t even live there,” he asked.

“I’ll be staying there for a while to review for exams. Figured I’d tidy up first,” she answered casually.

Sidestepping him without drawing notice, Oriana added, “I’m exhausted. I’ll head to bed.”

Grant’s suspicion had vanished. “Alright, rest. I’ll call you when dinner’s ready.”

“Okay,” she murmured.

Oriana truly was exhausted—drained in every possible way.

She drew the curtains closed and quickly fell into a deep sleep.

When she woke again, faint rustling sounds drifted in from outside.

Rising from bed, Oriana opened her door and froze at the sight before her.

“Geez, did we just wake Oriana up?”

“Good evening, Oriana.”

“Happy birthday, Oriana!”

“Wishing Oriana a wonderful twentieth birthday—may you bloom brighter than any flower, and may you and Grant grow old together, blissfully in love.”

Grant appeared before her, holding a birthday cake. His eyes, filled with tender devotion, focused solely on her. “Oriana, happy birthday.”

For a long moment, Oriana was stunned by the explosion of confetti and the chorus of cheers.

Grant had brought along his college roommates, now rising stars and partners in the tech industry, to celebrate her birthday.

“Look, Oriana is completely mesmerized by Grant again.”

“Well, who wouldn’t be? Grant’s handsome and charming. Back then, Oriana was head over heels—couldn’t escape him even if she tried.”

“Oriana went through a lot over the years. Grant, you better cherish her.”

“Don’t worry, Oriana. We’ve got your back—won’t let Grant get spoiled by other women,” Alaric Moss, Grant’s closest friend, promised, patting his chest.

Grant shot a sharp glare at the teasing crowd, then gently reminded Oriana, “Oriana, make a wish and blow out the candles.”

Her gaze fell on the flickering flames as she slowly closed her eyes.

The room quieted, everyone waiting patiently for her wish.

After a long moment, she opened her eyes and blew out the candles.

“What took so long? Were you wishing to spend your whole life with Grant or something?” Alaric teased, looping an arm around Grant’s shoulder.

“Alaric, enough,” Grant warned, though his expression betrayed a faintly pleased pride.

“Look at him, all serious and protective,” Alaric joked.

Grant ignored him, slicing a piece of cake and holding it up to Oriana’s lips with a possessive, indulgent smile. “Don’t tell anyone your wish—then it won’t work.”

Oriana didn’t eat. Instead, she lifted her eyes and fixed her gaze on him, suddenly asking, “You also think my birthday wish is to be with you forever, don’t you?”

Grant paused, sensing a test, and pretended to ponder before teasing, “Oh? So, Oriana, you didn’t include my name in this year’s birthday wish?”

His playful tone carried certainty; he knew her heart belonged entirely to him.

The woman who had poured her youth into chasing him could be no one else.

Oriana smiled faintly but said nothing.

She did have a wish this year.

And it still involved Grant.

But Oriana didn’t wish for a life by his side or hope for his happiness.

She wanted a clean break with Grant—completely severed, no ties left.

“Okay, wish made. What’s next?” she asked casually.

“Oriana, Grant has been pestering us every day for gift advice. Honestly, we’re all sick of it,” his friends teased.

Under their coaxing, Grant, the usually calm and reserved man, blushed.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a velvet box. Opening it, a platinum bracelet rested inside, set with a tiny sapphire the size of a mung bean.

Even his hands—so skilled with programming languages—trembled slightly as he helped her fasten the bracelet.

Oriana’s smooth skin made the cool-toned sapphire shine brilliantly on her wrist.

She curved her lips in a small smile.

Had she not seen Luna’s sapphire necklace, she might have been deeply touched.

Now, she felt only calm, even amused—aware that he had chosen this gift for Luna, and this bracelet was merely an afterthought.

Grant’s gaze was full of admiration. “It suits you. Looks perfect.”

Alaric and the others cheered even louder, egging him on to plant a kiss.

“Oriana?” Grant said softly.

His eyes darkened, and he slowly leaned in.

At the last moment, Oriana turned her face just enough; Grant’s lips brushed only her cheek.

“Oh? Oriana’s shy now,” a voice teased.

Grant frowned; this was the second time she had avoided his intimacy today.

He found it strange. She bit her lip, looking shy, her side profile delicate.

“Stop teasing. Let’s eat.” His voice lowered.

After several hours of preparation, they had a table full of dishes.

Everyone presented Oriana with birthday gifts and filled their glasses with cola for a toast.

Throughout the meal, Grant hardly touched his food, focusing almost entirely on taking care of her.

He carefully removed the bones from the fish for her.

He helped her extract crab meat from the legs and portioned it neatly.

He noticed a few vegetable dishes were too oily, so he quickly whipped up a salad in the kitchen.

After the feast, the men rolled up their sleeves and cheerfully helped clear the tableware.

Oriana returned to her room and carefully removed the bracelet, placing it at the very bottom of her jewelry box.

Grant walked in and caught sight of it, his brow furrowing. “Why aren’t you wearing it? Don’t like it?”

Oriana opened the box to show him. “It’s too valuable. Not practical for school. It’s safer stored away.”

Inside were all the pieces of jewelry he had given her over the years—everything from multi-thousand-dollar luxury items to the simple silver ring fashioned from a soda can he gave her when he was struggling the most.

The care she had put into preserving them was evident.

Grant exhaled in relief and shook his head with a wry smile, chiding himself for getting so worked up.

How could she not like them? Anything he gave her had always been treasured in her heart.

“Then you can wear it after you graduate,” Grant said, handing her a cup. “You just ate a lot of crab—want some milk?”

“Thanks,” Oriana replied.

“When did you start being so indifferent to me?” Grant murmured, gently running his fingers through her soft hair, his fingertips entwining. “Taking care of my girlfriend is the least I should do.”

Oriana lowered her gaze, using the act of drinking her milk to avoid his touch.

His fingers found nothing but air; the soft sensation was gone, and somewhere deep inside, it felt like a small piece of his heart had fallen.

He didn’t like that feeling.

Just as he was about to say something, Alaric and the others finished tidying the kitchen and came over to say goodbye.

“Oriana, the company has some things to handle tonight. We won’t disturb your time with Grant,” Alaric said.

Oriana blinked in surprise. “You still have to work tonight? Did I hold you up?”

Grant explained calmly, “It’s just a small meeting. They can handle it.”

Alaric blurted out, “Small meeting? That’s a collaboration invitation from the CEO of Claire Group in Meradin. Tonight’s meeting is critical.”

The moment he spoke, Grant shot him a sharp look.

Alaric immediately rubbed his nose and turned away, sheepish.

Oriana pressed her lips together. “Company matters are important. You should go with them.”

“Oriana, don’t listen to him,” Grant said.

Oriana turned toward the closet, soon returning with a gray jacket.

She draped it over him, her soft tone carrying an unmistakable authority. “It’s my birthday. You listen to me. Go take care of work; don’t worry about me.”

Something flickered in Grant’s deep eyes. “Oriana, I—”

“Enough, Grant. Oriana is considerate and focused on the bigger picture. Stop fussing and go with us,” Alaric said.

“Yeah, this meeting needs you in charge, Grant,” another added.

Ultimately, Grant relented. He put on the jacket, his gaze warm. “Oriana, I’ll come back as soon as I’m done. Happy birthday.”

He accepted the cane Alaric handed him, glancing back every few steps as he left.

The room that had been lively and festive a moment ago fell utterly silent once the door closed.

In the past, Oriana would have felt lonely, even abandoned, in moments like this. She didn’t want to interfere with Grant’s career but still longed for him to stay by her side.

Now, she savored the quiet.

She settled into the hanging chair on the balcony, opened the recording app on her phone, and let the familiar voice begin to play.

“Grant, how’d we do with our acting?”

“Honestly, I almost laughed at my own performance; it was that good. Good thing Oriana’s so innocent, she didn’t notice a thing.”

“If I hadn’t come up with a smart excuse, how would Grant have made it out here in time to celebrate Ms. Sterling’s birthday countdown?”

“Grant, you’re amazing. Oriana’s gentle and thoughtful, Ms. Sterling’s fiery and passionate—you’ve got the best of both worlds.”

“Women are like clothes. At home, they should feel comfortable. Out in public, they should look impressive.”

Grant’s voice dropped, sharp and warning. “Don’t ever say that again. I don’t want Oriana hearing any gossip.”

“Yes, understood, Grant.”

Not long after, a soft, girlish voice came through the phone—it was Luna.

Alaric and the others, quick to go along, immediately joined in, wishing Luna a happy birthday and long-lasting love with Grant.

Alaric cheered the loudest, “Grant, what are you waiting for? Kiss her!”

“Grant, you can’t. Luna just took the initiative—”

“Wow, it’s getting messy already. Luna’s awesome!”

Bang! Bang!

A deafening roar erupted from the phone, mirrored by countless fireworks lighting up the nearby night sky.

Through Oriana’s tear-blurred vision, the fireworks appeared black and white.

She drank the last sip of her cooled milk numbly, but her stomach rejected the taste—bitter, acrid, harsh.

Just like the once-proud youth in her life, dashing, arrogant, chasing dreams, now decayed and corrupt, making her feel disgusted.

—

The extravagant fireworks celebration lasted more than an hour.

As it neared midnight, Oriana got up to return to her room. Her phone, dark until now, suddenly pinged with a video call invitation.

The unfamiliar name on the screen made her heart skip a beat.

Micah Caldwell was her soon-to-be husband, whom she had never met.

Flustered, she accidentally hit accept, then immediately remembered her messy, tear-streaked face and hurriedly pressed her finger over the camera.

A chaotic image flashed briefly, and Oriana froze as she looked at the man on the other end, who hadn’t turned on his camera.

Neither of them spoke. If it weren’t for the faint sound of his breathing confirming he was real, Oriana might have hung up from embarrassment.

After a long moment of awkward silence, she forced herself to speak. “Hello, Mr. Caldwell?”

“Hello.” His low voice responded instantly, as if he had been waiting for her to speak first.

Oriana froze.

She recalled how their quick marriage arrangement had gone—questions answered only as needed, no extra words. She took a deep breath and mustered courage again.

“Mr. Caldwell, is there something important that made you call me so late?” she said.

Their marriage had been arranged quickly, with mutual agreement to register immediately, maintain the appearance of a married couple, and divorce two years later.

Oriana assumed Micah had called to discuss some detail of their agreement.

But after a pause, his cold, emotionless voice spoke words that were unexpectedly tender. “Happy birthday.”

Oriana couldn’t believe it. Her face, streaked with dried tears, relaxed as she felt the tug of the skin where her tears had dried.

She stared at the black screen, the flashing digits of midnight glaring.

On her twentieth birthday, it was her unfamiliar soon-to-be husband delivering a punctual birthday greeting.

She stared for a long moment. “All for this?”

“Yes,” Micah said, still impassive.

Oriana’s feelings were complicated. “Thank you, Mr. Caldwell.”

“When you arrive at Jindiwood, I’ll give you a gift,” he promised.

“No—” she instinctively refused.

“It’s late. Go get some rest.” Micah cut her off. “You can turn off the camera, but you don’t need to hold it the whole time. And, you didn’t even cover it properly.”

With that, as if mindful of her predicament, he ended the call.

Oriana froze.

She quickly turned on her camera and took a selfie, seeing her swollen, red eyes and tear-streaked cheeks. She felt mortified, wishing she could rush to Jindiwood and erase Micah’s memory of this moment.

It was so embarrassing.

Oriana could only hope Micah would forget by the next morning.

Still, having him interrupt her made the sticky, melancholy feeling in her chest dissipate somewhat.

—

Grant didn’t return that night, either. He had sent a perfunctory message reminding her to eat breakfast.

Oriana ignored it, instead rising to finish tidying what she hadn’t managed the day before.

That day, she went through Grant’s bedroom and study, gathering all the gifts she had given him.

She had saved for the alien-themed computer, penny by penny.

She had painstakingly bought the men’s razor, cologne, suit, and shoes with after-school wages.

And she had knitted the black-and-gray scarf last winter, when the library’s heating was insufficient and her fingers were red from the cold, all while preparing for finals.

The day she left the Sterling residence, Bramwell had given Oriana 200 thousand dollars for living expenses, but she had handed it all to Grant to help with his startup.

She had less than 10 thousand dollars left for herself, yet every gift she gave him had been the best she could afford.

Once, Grant had been considerate, grateful for her sacrifices, and had promised her a bright future.

Now, with his career soaring and prospects radiant, these cheap, low-status gifts were useless to him.

Oriana photographed each item and uploaded them to a secondhand platform, pricing them low for a quick sale. Orders came in almost immediately.

She called the courier, packed everything, and sent it off in one go.

After tidying up, she had a simple lunch and returned to her dormitory, where she had evening classes.

With some free time, she opened her laptop to continue editing her speech for next week’s Seabar School SAT mobilization meeting.

As an outstanding student from Seabar’s top universities, she was supposed to represent her peers on stage.

Two hours later, the speech was finalized. Oriana sent the document to the student council vice president.

Oriana texted, “This is the fifth revised draft. I’ll make further edits if needed.”

Ten minutes later, Evander Swift, the vice president, replied, “The speaking representative has been changed. You don’t need to present.”

Oriana’s brow furrowed, and she asked, “What does that mean?”

This time, Evander didn’t respond.

After waiting thirty minutes, Oriana gave up.

With a blank expression, she went to the student council office and knocked on the door. Inside, Evander was on his phone, flattering someone. “Luna, don’t worry. This draft is already fantastic; it’s definitely going to inspire everyone at the mobilization meeting.”