Chapter 3

Theodore bet Willow had forgotten all about that meeting in their youth.

Willow bit her lip. She couldn't see Theodore's face clearly. She asked awkwardly, "Could you help me find my glasses?"

Silence was all that answered her. Theodore didn't say anything.

Willow stood before him, her face red with embarrassment. Her bright eyes had a languid seductiveness. It was too bad they were unfocused, and she wasn't looking at him.

Back then, he'd been forced to leave the country. By the time he returned, she'd already married someone else.

Theodore gave an unfathomable chuckle before finding the glasses and handing them to Willow.

"Thanks." She reached out to accept them. She instinctively retracted her hand as her fingers brushed against his rough ones. "Sorry."

She put the glasses on. Her vision was finally clear again.

Theodore's eyes darkened a little. He looked away and turned to enter the banquet hall.

Willow stood there for a few seconds longer before following him in.

…

"You're amazing, Mr. Strand. You managed to get Strand Real Estate to where it is in just three short years."

"I bet this is the missus standing beside you—she's gorgeous! You two are a match made in heaven."

"That's right. I heard Mrs. Strand is very adept at running the company. I bet she's been a big help to you, Mr. Strand."

As soon as Willow entered the hall, she saw a couple standing underneath the lights. The man looked handsome in his white suit, and the woman matched him perfectly in her cream-colored dress. Indeed, they looked like a match made in heaven.

If only the man weren't her husband.

The people's flattery made Quentin beam. Sonia tucked her hair behind her ear shyly and exchanged a loving gaze with Quentin.

Willow felt a stab of pain in her heart. She grabbed a glass of wine from the passing server and strode toward them.

"Honey," she said to Quentin with a gentle smile. She stepped forward with her wine glass.

When Sonia saw her, she quickly let go of Quentin's arm and said coquettishly, "You're finally here, Willow."

"Willow." Quentin approached her like the tender and loving husband he pretended to be. He wrapped an arm around her waist.

Willow suppressed the disgust that welled up in her and looked at him. "What were you guys talking about?"

"Oh, Mrs. Strand. We've heard plenty about you—all good, of course."

The person who'd mistaken Sonia for Quentin's wife quickly switched tacks. Still, they were all experienced businessmen. They immediately knew what was going on.

Willow held her wine glass up with a smile and greeted them. "Mr. Walsh, Mr. Carlton."

Quentin looked at her tenderly and took the wine glass from her. "Don't drink too much, Willow."

He was so tender and doting. He was the perfect husband.

"You two are such a loving couple, Mr. and Mrs. Strand."

"Why, you're making me jealous!"

The people around them took the opportunity to flatter them. Willow glanced at Sonia, whose expression had darkened. A hint of coldness flitted through her heart, but she went along with the people and smiled. "How about you drink on my behalf, honey?"

Quentin lifted her wine glass to his lips and downed it. The crowd cheered.

Suddenly, Sonia lost her balance and spilled her wine on her cream dress. "Oh, no!"

"Sonia!" Quentin subconsciously released Willow to hold Sonia up.

A trace of smugness flashed across Sonia's face. She looked at Willow apologetically and said, "My dress is dirty, Willow, and I only have a change of clothes in Quentin's car. Can I ask him to take me there so I can get my clothes?"