Chapter 1 You're Not Supposed To Be Here

"Janice, you're fresh back from overseas. This place must still feel unfamiliar. I'd never want Bryson to let you down," Brianna Mills said warmly, patting Janice Sutton's hand with a caring tenderness, her eyes crinkling in gentle concern.

Bryson Mills's lips curled into an easy smile, a flicker of genuine warmth brightening his normally distant eyes. "Grandma, I treasure her. I wouldn't let anything-or anyone-hurt her," he declared, his voice casual but carrying a note of quiet promise.

Madelyn Dixon stepped inside just then, clutching a file to her chest. The warm atmosphere in the room wrapped around her like a vice.

When they first began dating, Bryson had promised her that their secrecy was for her own good-he wanted to protect her reputation, to make sure no one questioned her competence at work.

So Madelyn poured everything she had into her job. She stayed late night after night, mingling with clients until exhaustion blurred her vision, and gave up any hint of special treatment. She never once let herself grumble.

Yet now, in this moment, she felt raw and ridiculous, as if all those years of loyalty had been nothing but a one-sided joke.

Bryson's father was the unchallenged heavyweight in Zrerton's political sphere, while his mother-the only daughter of the wealthiest man in Ewriron-stood next in line to inherit the sprawling fortune. Together, they embodied an unbeatable alliance: authority and affluence intertwined in one marriage.

Their union had produced only two children-a son and a daughter-making their legacy feel all the more exclusive.

Bryson himself was the absolute center of attention in elite circles, like the moon surrounded by stars-it was nearly impossible for ordinary folks to even get an audience with him.

Madelyn's fingernails bit into her palm, the pain snapping her back to reality. She forced her gaze across the living room.

Janice perched quietly on the couch, the very picture of modesty and restraint. Barely out of her early twenties, she radiated a delicate, youthful beauty.

Soft curls cascaded over her shoulders, wispy bangs falling just right to frame her gentle features.

There was something so unassuming about her-she hardly spoke, yet her purity and understated elegance seemed to glow in the soft light.

Bryson settled in next to Janice, the two of them sharing soft, private words that drew them even closer.

Laughter colored Janice's face, her cheeks glowing with a gentle, unbroken flush.

A quiet unease flickered across Madelyn's expression.

The Mills family had played matchmaker for Bryson more times than she could count, but he'd always treated those arrangements as mere formalities-never bothering to keep up appearances for long. After a day or two, each would fizzle out as if nothing had happened.

But this time, something was off. Something had shifted.

A fluffy, white, curly-haired puppy lay sprawled across Bryson's lap, dozing with utter contentment.

Bryson's hand rested on its back, his fingers absently combing through the silken fur-a sight that left Madelyn stunned. He despised animals, especially anything with long hair.

On his birthday in their third year together, Madelyn had spent weeks picking out a sweet, gorgeous ragdoll cat, hoping to surprise him. He'd recoiled at the sight, his expression turning frosty.

Without even touching the cat, he demanded she take it away at once, warning her coldly that if she ever brought a pet home again, she'd be packing her bags right along with it.

Now, Janice's puppy sprawled across Bryson's lap, tail thumping lazily, while he absentmindedly ran his elegant fingers along its back.

Madelyn's eyes narrowed, a calculating edge creeping into her expression as she studied Janice.

In all those years at Bryson's side, never once had she witnessed him bend for anyone-let alone tolerate a pet in his arms. It was almost unthinkable.

For a moment, the realization hit her so hard it felt as though her heart had been pricked by a thousand invisible needles. Still, she forced herself to focus.

Composing herself, she stepped forward, offering Bryson the document. Leaning closer, she murmured, "The supplier needs this signed. If we wait any longer, it's going to throw off the whole delivery timeline."

Bryson leaned away, glancing at her with the faintest flicker of irritation. "You're not supposed to be here."

Madelyn's grip tightened imperceptibly on the papers, but her tone remained steady. "You ignored my calls and messages. I didn't have another option."

"Bryson, who's she?" Janice leaned forward slightly, her bright eyes sweeping over Madelyn with open curiosity. "She's gorgeous."

Madelyn met Janice's gaze with composed politeness. "Thank you, Miss Sutton. I'm Madelyn Dixon-Brennan Group's head of PR."

She managed a small, professional smile, then smoothly turned her attention back to Bryson, her voice shifting into business mode. "Saturday evening, Murphy Group's chairman's only son is hosting his wedding at..."

Bryson cut her off, his tone sharp and impatient, "Handle it for me. I have other plans."

Brianna's voice followed quickly, tinged with reproach. "Bryson, you really shouldn't bring office matters into the house. Letting outsiders come and go in the Mills Mansion just isn't appropriate. If your father hears about this, you know he won't be pleased."

Draped in an elegant dress and jade jewelry that radiated regal confidence, Brianna spoke with quiet command, every word weighted by her natural authority.

Bryson dipped his head in agreement. "I understand, Grandma. The staff made a mistake-I won't let her inside again."

Madelyn's balance faltered for a split second. Bryson was the one who'd told her, in urgent situations, she could come straight to the Mills Mansion to find him.

Before his trip, he'd been gentle, warm-yet now he silently sided with Brianna, letting her be dismissed as just an "outsider."

Without glancing at her, Bryson scrawled his signature on the final page, tossed the contract back toward Madelyn, and snatched up a wet wipe, scrubbing his hands with practiced indifference. "If you need me in the future, leave any documents with the security. Don't come up."

Madelyn paused, her voice barely above a whisper. "What about confidential documents?"

Bryson didn't bother replying right away-he just glanced up, fixing her with a cool, unreadable stare before delivering a quiet rebuke. "You seem especially talkative today."

Across the room, Brianna observed the exchange with a thin, knowing smile. She'd never warmed to Madelyn. There was always something guarded and restless in Madelyn's gaze-a quality Brianna instinctively distrusted.

With effortless poise, Brianna shifted the conversation, her words lilting with gentle authority. "Bryson, don't let work eat up your whole evening. Janice needs your attention, too."

Bryson responded by turning to Janice, his demeanor instantly softening. He reached for a delicate pastry, offering it to her lips with a gentle coax.

"Here, have a little snack. Dinner will be ready soon," he murmured, his tone warm.

Watching the scene unfold, Madelyn felt her face drain of color. The simple, tender gesture cut through her composure, and for a fleeting moment, she looked every bit like an intruder-utterly dwarfed by the mansion's cold, imposing luxury.