James Ashton clenched his teeth as he peered out the carriage window.

At this very moment, he should have been seated on the fourth floor of Roycobs Bank, charming nobles and wealthy clients. Instead, he was tailing his own wife.

When his wife, Eliza, glanced around cautiously and slipped into a jewelry shop, he closed his eyes and took a slow, steady breath, trying to suppress the surge of emotion.

But a deep crease soon formed between his brows. Breathing like that was useless.

Where had it all gone wrong? When, exactly, had things become like this…?

He had been a perfect man.

A banker who had grown Roycobs Bank into one of the most prominent institutions in Athern through his exceptional analytical skills and sharp judgment. Some even believed—quietly, half in jest—that he must have noble blood, given his striking looks and well-built, upright physique.

He had also been a flawless husband, never once letting his eyes wander.

And yet, he had been betrayed by his wife.

James could not understand what was happening to him. More accurately, he refused to believe it.

He should have noticed sooner, he reproached himself.

Perhaps when the stand where his shirts were always laid out each morning began to sit empty. Or when she started sleeping in from time to time.

When the first faint cracks had begun to form in his perfect routine.

Self-reproach gave way to anger, consuming him whole.

How could anyone possibly realize something from such trivial signs!

It was impossible to suspect that his timid, obedient wife had been plotting something like this behind his back. Only a paranoid man would think that way—and he was not paranoid.

So this was not his fault.

But neither could it be his wife’s fault…

Because that would mean Eliza had truly intended to betray him.

A low, growling groan escaped James. His heart felt ready to burst, as though scalding steam were boiling up from his chest and through his throat.

Just then, Eliza emerged from the jewelry shop.

She glanced around once more, cautious as ever, then began walking toward the eastern district.

The moment she turned the corner, James stepped out of the carriage and headed straight for the shop.

He crossed the street in haste, not even realizing he had collided with a woman carrying a basket full of goods. Her curses were swallowed by the noise of the street.

At the chime of the door opening, the jeweler instinctively broke into a wide smile.

“Welcome, sir. What kind of jewelry are you looking for? A gift for a beloved lady, perhaps?”

Only then did James come back to himself. Without thinking, he adjusted the collar of his suit.

He was keenly aware that he was the face of Roycobs Bank—and he wanted to prove that he was not some pitiful, disheveled man trailing after his wife.

But his throat felt dry and tight.

So he answered with a nod instead—yes, it was a gift for the woman he loved.

A cold, arrogant smile—one he wore like armor—settled over his face.

“Do you have something in mind, sir? Or would you like a recommendation?”

“The woman who just left… My wife seems to have a similar taste in clothing. Show me the jewelry she was looking at.”

“That young lady didn’t come to buy—she came to sell.”

The jeweler’s expression shifted in understanding before she continued,

“If you’re looking for something to suit her taste, would you like to see the pieces she brought in?”

“….”

James tried to respond, but the moment he opened his mouth, it felt as though the surge of emotion rising in his throat would burst out. He pressed his lips tightly together.

In the meantime, the jeweler stepped into the back room and returned with a box.

“A diamond necklace and a ruby bracelet. Both are of the finest quality. According to the lady, each was worn only once. They’re practically brand new.”

‘Of course they’re the finest quality. I paid a fortune for them.’

James clenched his fists as he looked down at the birthday gifts he had given his wife—last year and the year before—now resting in a stranger’s hands.

His arms trembled with the force he held back, and he tightened them further to keep from shaking. For a fleeting moment, he found himself wanting to drive his fist straight into the jeweler’s smiling face—the very face that seemed so pleased with the jewels in his possession.

Would that bury her betrayal in darkness forever?

The thought alone shocked him.

He had lived his life by cold logic and precision. He was not some street thug who lashed out with his fists.

And yet—he realized that his wife, Eliza—fragile, delicate Eliza—was the one dragging him down.

It was humiliating.

The more furious he became, the more wretched he felt.

‘No… that can’t be. It’s all just your suspicion.’

Forcing himself to listen to reason, he managed to regain a sliver of composure.

With that same practiced social smile—one that conveyed politeness yet carried an unmistakable chill—James spoke.

“How much for all of it?”

The jeweler, as though narrowly spared from danger, brightened immediately and named her price.

“It’s an excellent deal. You won’t find jewelry of this quality anywhere in Athern at this price.”

Should he be relieved that she hadn’t sold his gifts for a pittance?

James let out a faint, hollow chuckle as he stared at the box.

If the gifts from the past two birthdays were here, then where were all the others?

“…I see.”

His blood pressure surged again, tightening the veins in his neck, forcing him to swallow the words he had intended to say.

Even so, he spoke on with effortless composure—calm enough to deceive the merchant without a hint of suspicion.

It was a strength he had been born with.

“But for a young lady to sell her jewelry… is there some unfortunate story behind it? I’d hesitate to give such items as a gift.”

“Oh, not at all. We’re well aware that customers care about such things, so we always make sure to verify.”

“Then?”

“She said she’s planning to buy a house. Some of my other clients also sell their jewelry to purchase property. It’s nothing unusual at all.”

“A house…”

James stared blankly at the jeweler’s moving lips as she went on about the difference in value between jewelry and real estate. He didn’t hear a single word. His vision blurred.

She had been selling her jewelry behind his back, securing money.

…To buy a house.

“….”

“Sir? Sir?”

James shoved the door open as if crashing through it and stumbled out of the shop. He turned into an alley between buildings and emptied everything in his stomach.

Bracing himself against the wall, wiping away tears forced out by sheer physical strain, James finally reached a conclusion.

“Eliza is trying to leave me.”

***

Her name was Lim A-young.

An ordinary office worker who couldn’t get through the day without an iced Americano.

No—had been.

Because she was dead.

The tragic end of her twenty-eight-year life could be summed up simply: Worked herself to death like a fool.

While she was alive, Lim A-young endured a grueling work life while supporting her boyfriend for four years as he prepared for the civil service exam.

She even skipped ordering food deliveries just to give him pocket money. Watching her, her friends would sigh and call it true love.

When he finally passed the exam, what she felt wasn’t joy—but relief.

‘It’s over now. No more living off nothing but kimbap. No more dates in the park with canned coffee from vending machines. It’s time to get married.’

Her heart even fluttered with anticipation, certain that he would bring up marriage when they met that day.

While waiting for him, Lim A-young read a novel on her phone—one she’d recently become obsessed with, featuring a notoriously toxic male lead.

Ding.

A message arrived.

It was his mobile wedding invitation.

As if possessed, she pressed the call button. On the other end, that b*stard spoke in an awkward, troubled tone.

“Ah… so you got it too? Well, um… my mom had already settled everything. It’s her friend’s daughter. I just passed the exam, and she keeps saying she wants to see me married before she dies. What was I supposed to do? You know about her illness. You understand, right?”

Lim A-young hung up, her vision turning white.

With only one thought in mind—to get away from that place—she stepped into the crosswalk without even looking at the signal.

The last thing she remembered was the deafening blare of a truck horn.

***

What filled the pitch-black void was Lim A-young’s sorrow.

That was the shape her death had taken.

[You’ve thrown away your chance once again. You could have changed everything.]

The dry reprimand only deepened her sense of injustice. It was unbearably unfair.

“I….”

[Even after I showed you your previous life, you chose the same path—and the same ending, Lim A-young.]

“When did you ever…? A previous life—what are you even talking about?!”

[Eliza Ashton.]

“…?”

Her soul sank in shock.

Then she remembered.

The name of the female lead from the novel she had been so obsessed with in life.

Ah… so that was it.

A hollow understanding settled in and her sorrow doubled.

[How foolish. If that is the limit of your soul…]

She knew, instinctively.

If not now, there would be no second chance.

“No—that’s wrong! You’re wrong!”

[…]

Summoning every ounce of strength she had, Lim A-young cried out,

“Give me a chance. Just one last time! I won’t live like a fool again! This time, I’ll live my life—”

She didn’t stop.

But no answer came.

Only a suffocating, blood-drying void.