Sweetheart Scheme

I'm a wedding dress designer, and one day before the finals of the Bridal Queen Tournament, explicit photos of me are posted all over the internet.

Countless people accuse me of defiling the concept of love. They say I don't deserve to make wedding dresses, and in the end, I'm disqualified from the tournament.

The photos can only come from one person—my boyfriend, Felix Evans.

On the verge of a breakdown, I seek him out for answers. But right before I walk through the door, I hear him having a conversation with his twin, Leon Evans.

"As expected, the netizens sank their teeth into Dahlia the moment the photos were posted online. I'm guessing that she's going to be blacklisted by the entire fashion industry too. There's no way she can compete against Sylvia for the title of Bridal Queen anymore."

"Does this mean I can't pretend to be you and sleep with her anymore? Truth be told, she's pretty good in bed. She's pure, but she's also seductive."

"You should take advantage of the situation and sleep with her as much as you want then. Once Sylvia wins the title of Bridal Queen, I'm going to cut ties with Dahlia completely and officially pursue Sylvia."

Listening to their casual conversation, I feel like a sharp blade is being ruthlessly stabbed into my heart.

I don't know how I got home. After sitting in a daze the entire night, I call a studio overseas and tell them, "I'll be joining you in three days."

Dahlia's Point of View

My phone was filled with headlines such as "Dahlia Ferguson Doesn't Deserve to Make Wedding Dresses" and "Kick Dahlia Ferguson Out of the Fashion Industry".

They were like sharp blades being ruthlessly driven into my heart.

Meanwhile, my boyfriend, Felix Evans, and his twin, Leon Evans, were clinking glasses and celebrating on the other side of the door.

"Your plan worked perfectly, Felix. A wedding dress designer exposed for having a promiscuous private life—there's no way Dahlia can make wedding dresses anymore, let alone compete with Sylvia for the title of Bridal Queen."

"You deserve some credit too. You taught her all those poses, and only her face was visible in all those photos too."

They exchanged glances and smiled at each other.

I clapped a hand over my mouth, my nails digging into the tender flesh of my palm. The stinging pain reminded me that I wasn't dreaming.

The love that I had been willing to sacrifice everything for turned out to be nothing more than a cruel farce. The tender nights had merely been poison wrapped in honey.

Tears streamed down my face as I staggered outside. Everything in my vision turned blurry and warped.

Truth be told, I used to distance myself from love because of my parents' failed marriage. I was only brave enough to pour my passion into my wedding dress designs, using them as an outlet to channel my feelings.

All of that had changed when