Everyone feared the billionaire’s fiancée… until the new employee changed everything.
At the Cross Mansion – a super-luxury villa of tempered glass and black marble nestled on Lake Washington in Seattle – there was a life-or-death rule that every servant had to remember: Never look directly into Vivian Blackwood’s eyes.

Nathaniel Cross, thirty-five, was a brilliant billionaire, the founder of the largest renewable energy corporation on the West Coast. Unlike other billionaires who enjoyed partying, Nathaniel was a quiet, warm, and generous man.

But his life took a dark turn when he became engaged to Vivian.

Vivian, thirty-two, was a former mergers lawyer. She possessed a striking beauty with short black hair, lips always painted in bold red lipstick, and Louboutin high heels clacking on the marble floor like deadly hammer blows.

In the eyes of the public and all the servants, Vivian was a gold digger, a true tyrant.

Since Nathaniel contracted a mysterious neurodegenerative disease six months ago that left him frail and confined to a wheelchair, Vivian has seized complete power at the mansion.

She dismisses a host of long-serving servants for spilling a single drop of water. She throws elaborately prepared trays of fine food against the wall, shouting derogatory remarks about them as “salty rubbish.” She absolutely forbids anyone from entering the master bedroom, isolating Nathaniel from his family and friends and keeping him under her suffocating control.

Harper Hayes, twenty-six, is the latest to enter this “hell.”

Harper, a medical student forced to defer her studies due to debt, takes a lucrative job as a nutritionist at Cross Manor. On her very first day of work, Winston—the old, kind butler who had served the Cross family for twenty years—pulled Harper aside into the kitchen and whispered:

“Be careful, little girl. Miss Vivian is a venomous snake. She’s isolating Nathaniel to manipulate the will. Just keep your head down, do your job properly, and never disobey her.”

Harper quickly saw the warning in her mind.

At dinner on the third day, Winston personally prepared a delicious bowl of shark fin soup and brought it to the dining room. Nathaniel, pale and weary, was about to pick up his spoon when Vivian snatched the bowl away.

She took a spoonful, tasted it, and then her sharp eyes widened.

CRASH!

Vivian tossed the entire bowl of hot soup against the marble wall. The soup splattered all over the multi-thousand-dollar Persian rug.

“Mr. Winston! You call this soup?! It’s bitter and full of cheap herbs!” Vivian hissed, pointing directly at the trembling old butler. “Take this rubbish out immediately! Nathaniel won’t eat anything today! Anyone who dares bring him food, I’ll fire them!”

“Yes… ma’am,” Winston bowed his head, meekly backing away.

Harper stood in the corner, her hands clenched into fists. She looked at Nathaniel. The billionaire just closed his eyes, coughing violently, with no strength left to defend his loyal butler. Harper felt her blood boil. This woman was so cruel and vicious! She was deliberately starving a sick man!

That night, unable to stand by and watch Nathaniel suffer, Harper decided to break the rules.

With her medical knowledge, she sneaked into the kitchen and personally brewed a warm pot of honey chamomile tea, adding a little ginseng to restore his vitality. As she was fumbling around, Butler Winston entered.

“Are you bringing this to Nathaniel?” Winston smiled kindly, patting her shoulder. “You’re so brave and kind, Harper. Let me add some of this herbal pollen; it’ll help him sleep better. Don’t let that witch Vivian see it.”

Harper nodded, cautiously carrying the tray of tea up the side staircase towards the library, where she knew Nathaniel was resting.

But just as Harper touched the library doorknob… a cold, vise-like hand gripped her wrist.

Harper jumped. It was Vivian.

The woman’s eyes, sharp as razors, stared at the tray of tea. Without a word, Vivian roughly dragged Harper down the hallway, shoved her into the soundproof laundry room at the end of the second floor, and locked the door.

“She’s going to kill me!” Harper thought in panic, backing away from the washing machine. “I… I just wanted to bring him some water! He’s exhausted!”

Vivian didn’t yell. She tossed the tea tray into the sink.

And then… The greatest and most shocking twist in the Cross Manor was officially revealed!

The moment the soundproof door closed, “Ice Queen” Vivian completely collapsed. Her always proud, stoic shoulders slumped. Vivian took off her high heels and threw them aside. She covered her face with her hands, sliding down onto the cold tile floor.

And… Vivian cried.

Not crocodile tears, but the choked sobs, the desperate and utterly exhausted cries of a person carrying a mountain on her shoulders.

Harper was stunned. The air seemed to freeze. “Miss… Miss Blackwood…?”

Vivian didn’t…

She replied. She pulled a small, cigarette-pack-sized chemical testing kit from her expensive vest pocket – the kind used by federal agents. With trembling hands, she drew a drop of the tea Harper had just brewed and dropped it into the test solution.

Just three seconds later, the solution turned from white to a thick, dark black.

“Thallium,” Vivian whispered, her voice hoarse and filled with grief. She looked up at Harper, her eyes red and swollen, staring at the frozen Harper. “A colorless, odorless heavy metal. Who gave you this to put in Nathaniel’s tea?”

Harper staggered back, her face drained of all color. “It… It was Butler Winston… He said it was pollen…”

“Winston,” Vivian laughed bitterly, a bloody laugh. “The man worshipped like a saint throughout this mansion, the one who held Nathaniel from birth. He received ten million dollars from Nathaniel’s uncle and the board of directors. They’re poisoning him with heavy metals, little by little each day, to induce symptoms of neurodegenerative disease. When Nathaniel falls into a deep coma, they’ll use that as an excuse to seize control of the corporation.”

Harper’s brain exploded. A bolt of lightning shattered all the preconceived notions she’d held for days.

It turned out Nathaniel wasn’t terminally ill! He was being poisoned by those closest to him!

And Vivian… Vivian was never a devil!

“Why didn’t you call the police?! Why didn’t you take him to the hospital?!” Harper asked in panic.

“Where’s the evidence?!” Vivian wiped away her tears, her eyes becoming sharp, filled with extraordinary forbearance. “If I report to the police before I have the complete list of my uncle’s network in my hands, they’ll stage a car accident, or hire a sniper to kill Nathaniel in his hospital bed. I can’t risk his life! I have to keep him in this mansion, within my sight!”

These pieces of information slammed into Harper’s mind.

Vivian’s dismissal of the long-time servants wasn’t because she was cruel. She was trying to weed out the planted spies and protect the innocent from becoming “scapegoats” in this bloody war!

Her throwing away the shark fin soup, criticizing the food, forbidding others from touching Nathaniel’s drinking water… it was because she knew it was poisoned! But to avoid alerting Winston and her enemies that she knew the truth, Vivian had to play the role of an “Ice Queen,” a crazy, gold-digging, bossy woman to justify throwing away the food every day!

“I’ve been up almost 20 hours a day for the past six months,” Vivian sobbed, rolling up her sleeve to reveal bruises from pinching herself to stay awake. “I had to cook nutritious soup myself from ingredients I secretly bought outside, forcing Nathaniel to eat it in the middle of the night to keep him alive. I endured all the insults, the hatred of the media, the servants, and sometimes… even Nathaniel himself, when he couldn’t understand why I was so cruel to the butler he considered his father.”

Harper’s heart ached. She knelt beside Vivian, tears welling up. She had almost become a murderer, killing Nathaniel because of her naivety.

This woman, cursed by the world, was, in reality, a great steel shield, using her honor and body as a shield, fighting alone in the shadows to protect the man she loved!

“Why are you telling me this today?” Harper choked out. “Aren’t you afraid I’m one of them too?”

Vivian looked deep into the young woman’s eyes. “Because when you looked at Nathaniel in the dining room, there was no feigned pity or greed in your eyes. There was genuine rage in your eyes. And because… I’m exhausted, Harper. I can’t protect him alone anymore. His uncle has started to suspect Nathaniel hasn’t completely fallen. Today they tripled the Thallium dose. I need an ally.”

Harper clutched Vivian’s cold hands. At this moment, the impoverished medical student felt no fear.

“Tell me,” Harper said resolutely, “What do we need to do?”

The next three days were the most suffocating drama Harper had ever been a part of.

Outwardly, Vivian continued to play the tyrant. She screamed and cursed Harper terribly in front of the butler, Winston, making the old man certain that Harper was seething with anger at his “fiancée.”

That night, Winston secretly called Harper aside.

“My dear girl, I know you’ve suffered a lot. Nathaniel is in great pain. This is a special herbal medicine,” Winston handed Harper a small glass vial, his eyes flashing with a cruel glint hidden beneath his gentle exterior. “Mix it in his milk and secretly give it to him. It will help him sleep a long, painless sleep.”

“I understand, Mr. Winston,” Harper bowed her head, taking the vial and hiding her trembling in her clothes.

But Harper didn’t take the milk to Nathaniel. She took it straight into the soundproof bathroom and gave it to Vivian. That vial of pure poison was the undeniable physical evidence (the smoking gun).

At the same time, Vivian had secretly set up a network…

A network of cameras and miniature recording devices in the library. While handing Winston a fake report stating, “Nathaniel has taken the drug and is in a coma,” the butler fell into the trap.

Thinking the plan had succeeded, Winston immediately pulled out his disposable phone and called Nathaniel’s uncle: “The new girl gave him the drug. The boy is finished. Tomorrow, you can bring our lawyers and doctors to declare him unconscious and take over the corporation.”

The entire call was recorded and encrypted, transmitted directly to FBI headquarters in Seattle.

The next morning.

Nathaniel’s uncle, along with a team of lawyers and doctors, entered the main hall of the Cross Mansion with a triumphant expression masking feigned grief. Butler Winston, waiting, bowed and opened the door.

“Where’s Vivian?” the uncle asked, a smirk on his face. “It’s time to get that crazy woman out of here.”

“I’m here.”

A cold, authoritative voice echoed from the top of the marble staircase.

But Vivian wasn’t alone.

Beside her wasn’t a dilapidated, wheelchair-bound billionaire.

Nathaniel Cross – impeccably tailored in a navy blue suit – stood tall on his feet. Though his face still bore the lingering effects of the poison, his eyes blazed like the fire of a king who had just awakened. Over the past three days, thanks to the heavy metal detoxification protocol Harper had secretly brought in, Nathaniel’s body had eliminated most of the toxins.

Winston staggered back, dropping his handkerchief. “You… Master?!”

“Disappointed, aren’t you, Winston?” Nathaniel descended the stairs, his usually deep voice now tinged with the rage of a drawn sword. He knew the whole truth. He had seen the vial of poison, listened to the tape recording, and understood the profound injustice his fiancée had suffered.

Just as his uncle was about to flee, the deafening sirens of police cars blared from all directions around the mansion.

Armed FBI agents burst through the front door.

“Winston and Mr. Cross. You are arrested for first-degree conspiracy to commit murder and corporate fraud,” the chief agent coldly declared, handcuffing the two culprits and dragging them to the car.

The grand hall was filled with the stunned silence of the remaining servants. They stood frozen, watching Winston’s back as he was led away.

And then, Nathaniel turned. Before dozens of servants and FBI agents, the powerful billionaire knelt on one knee. He grasped Vivian’s cold hand, pressed his face against it, and hot tears streamed down his face.

“I’m sorry, Vivian. I’m sorry for ever doubting you. I’m sorry for leaving you to be the lone villain in the shadows,” Nathaniel sobbed, kissing the scratches on her hand. “You used your very soul as a shield for me.”

Vivian, the “Ice Queen” who never shed tears in front of outsiders, now burst into tears, embracing her man. The icy coldness crumbled, revealing a heart burning with love that had perfectly fulfilled its great mission.

One year later.

Cross Manor was no longer gloomy and oppressive. The glass doors were wide open, welcoming the breeze from Lake Washington.

Vivian’s reputation had been completely restored. The media, once calling her a devil, now praised her as the bravest warrior. Nathaniel and Vivian’s wedding took place in the manor’s garden, without extravagance or ostentation, just those who truly considered each other family.

Harper Hayes no longer wore her assistant uniform. Thanks to Nathaniel’s full financial support, she had returned to medical school and was preparing to graduate. Today, she wore a stunning bridesmaid dress, standing with a glass of champagne, smiling at the billionaire couple.

“Hey, Doctor Harper,” Vivian approached, a radiant and sincere smile on her lips. “If it weren’t for your chamomile tea that day, I don’t know how much longer I could have lasted.”

Harper laughed, embracing Vivian.

Sometimes, to defeat demons disguised as angels, one must don the guise of a devil. The harshest, most arrogant exteriors can sometimes be the armor of great love, riddled with scratches. And when the darkness passes, the truth will always speak for itself, restoring the most glorious honor to the angels who accepted the role of villain to protect those they love.