At the banquet, crystal chandeliers bathed the grand hall in daylight brilliance. I wore a custom-designed gown, its train trailing behind me like a caged canary released into the spotlight, walking straight toward Dev Singh under countless watching eyes. "You promised me," I said softly—yet my voice stilled the entire room. "We agreed: a fake marriage, three years only. No crossing lines, no falling in love. But now, you don’t even bother pretending anymore?" He lifted his gaze, cold as sharpened steel. In one fluid motion, he pulled a document from his inner suit pocket and unfolded it before all the elite guests. "Miss Ria," he said with a faint smile, "know your place. All we have is this contract. You get paid. I give you access. Mutual benefit. What—is your fee no longer enough? Want more screen time?" Camera flashes exploded around us. I stood still, listening only to the pounding of my own heart. Back at the villa, I hadn’t changed clothes when he walked in, already loosening his tie, dressed for sleep, looking exhausted. "Stop making scenes. I’ve been busy lately." "Too busy even to fake it?" I stared at him. "Then what about that dinner with Miss Lin? Was her leaning on your shoulder just another business meeting? Part of the job?" He frowned. "You're imagining things." That night, I didn't sleep. At two in the morning, his office phone rang. Without thinking, I picked up the extension and silently activated the monitor. "The plan is progressing smoothly. The Twin Towers merger will be signed next week. Once she’s completely out of the picture and public opinion turns, the Dev Group will be mine." A cold laugh came through the line. "Don’t worry—your substitute wife won’t rise again. She’s just an actress bound by contract." My fingers trembled as I listened to his calm reply: "Good. Remember—leave no trace." So that was it. I wasn’t a betrayed wife. I was merely a pawn he intended to discard. Three days later, another gala. He entered arm-in-arm with Miss Lin, smiling with tenderness I’d never seen before. I stood atop the staircase, watching them—and suddenly smiled. Step by step, I descended, heels striking the marble like a ticking countdown. Leaning close to his ear, I whispered, "Dev, our contract… is void." Then, before everyone’s eyes, I tore the agreement into pieces. Paper fluttered like snow. His face twisted. He grabbed my wrist fiercely. "Have you lost your mind? Do you know what you’ve done!" "I do," I met his gaze steadily. "I’m stepping out of your game. And by the way—my office has had a listening system since day one. Three years ago, I installed it myself." The crowd erupted in shock. He staggered back—but then, suddenly, dropped to his knees. "Ria… don’t go." His voice cracked, raw with pain. "Please. Just believe me one more time." I paused, turned my head, and curled my lips slightly. "Your act," I said, "is over." With a swirl of my coat, I walked away without looking back. They thought I was the discarded stand-in wife. But they didn’t know— from the very beginning, I wrote the script. And his downfall? It had only just begun.