After saying this, he didn't leave immediately. He stood there, as if waiting for my response. I didn't say a word, keeping my head slightly lowered, letting the tears flow as though trying to drain a lifetime's worth of sorrow.

After about thirty seconds, Clint finally walked away with Rachel. As he turned, I spoke softly:

"Fine. I swear, I'll never appear before you, Rachel, again in this lifetime."

Clint's tall figure paused briefly, but he quickly resumed walking forward, never looking back. Rachel, however, glanced back at me. Her eyes were still teary, but her lips curled into a small smile. I slowly lowered my hand.

"It's over," I thought to myself. Five years of entanglement, of a love and hatred deeply rooted in my heart, severed in that moment. I felt completely numb, bewildered.

When I got home, I received a barrage of messages from Rachel's social media. The centerpiece was her engagement announcement. I texted the app without replying. My face was still swollen; I lacked the energy to soothe it.

When I returned, there was a new notification of a bank deposit. I opened it, only to be startled by the sum. The caller ID displayed two words that saved me: Mr. Andre. It was his first call since our marriage was arranged. My heart raced as I took a deep breath and answered.

"Miss Frida, did you receive the funds?"

"Yes," I replied. "But, Mr. Andre, you've already sent—" I said softly, wondering if someone on his end had made a mistake.

"Before was for your family," he replied calmly. "This money is for you."

I clutched the phone, stunned into silence for a moment, then spoke softly. "Mr. Andre, there's no need for this. I—"

"You've had a prior engagement, and your reputation isn't perfect. I know," he interrupted. "It doesn't matter."

His voice was deep and soothing, carrying an unexpected sense of reassurance. I recalled the rumors about him—his ruthless methods, his unpredictable temper, his violent tendencies. But at this moment, none of that was evident in his tone.

"As you said, that was in the past," he continued. "Leave it behind, Miss Frida. It's irrelevant now. You're about to marry far away. Buy yourself whatever you like to take with you to Washington."

My eyes grew warm, tears threatening to fall again. But this time, I smiled slightly. "Thank you, Mr. Andre."

The marriage arrangement with the Koch family was kept entirely under wraps, at Andre's request. The Koch family's representatives had already arrived in New York. With them here, my family dared not stir any trouble. As a result, no one in New York knew I was about to leave.

Three days before my departure, all my belongings were packed. On my vanity sat an exquisitely crafted treasure box and a yellowed, blank wish card. The treasure box was a gift from Clint during his courtship. It had nine layers, filled with jewelry and trinkets. The blank wish card was his thank-you gift to me when he was twelve. Of course, he had long forgotten.

I'd thought about using the card to make him marry me. In the end, I couldn't bear to waste my time on someone like him. The jewelry was far too valuable, so I packed it to return to him. The wish card bore his personal seal, so it too had to be returned. After carefully packing both, I called Clint's assistant.

"These are valuable items. Please ensure he receives them personally," I emphasized repeatedly.

Though polite, the assistant's tone carried impatience. "Miss Frida, let me offer you some advice: don't waste your time. Clint is about to get engaged. Let's all move on." He thought I was scheming to reconcile with Clint. I wanted to explain, but he had no interest. Tossing the box into the car trunk, he drove off without another word.

I quietly left New York with the representatives of the Koch family. Two days later, I met my future husband for the first time: Andre, the heir of the Koch family. He wore a neatly pressed black suit, impeccably dressed and handsome. Although he was sitting in a wheelchair, with a thin blanket covering his legs, he had an upright posture, broad shoulders, and an aura of strength that made one forget his disability. He pronounced my name in a deep, steady voice. I took a deep breath, quickly walked up to him, and slowly crouched down. Our eyes met. I must have looked extremely nervous and shy.