Love is loyalty wrapped in barbed wire.
The days leading up to their so-called anniversary were anything but romantic.
AiLi wasn't picking out dresses.
She was tracing names.
The names her father had marked in red ink — former allies, double-crossers, puppets in suits. Some were dead. Some were ghosts. And some… were closer than she thought.
One of them worked in Zhou's own security team.
A mole.
Zhou stood in his armory — a sleek room of shadows and steel. Guns, blades, blueprints.
"Li Chen," he said quietly, "pull surveillance on every man we've trusted in the last year."
Li Chen nodded. "You think they've infiltrated us?"
"I know they have."
Zhou turned, gaze hard.
"They were two seconds too early at the restaurant. That's not coincidence. That's intel."
Meanwhile, AiLi was digging into her father's past — and finding secrets that chilled her deeper than bullets ever could.
In one folder was a contract.
Signed in blood.
A pact between her father and Mrs. Deng — twenty years ago.
A trade: silence in exchange for exile.
"They knew each other?" she muttered, heart hammering.
And worse…
They once loved each other.
She stared at the old photo — a younger Mrs. Deng, arm-in-arm with Huang Yifeng. Smiling. Smiling.
It shattered something inside her.
Because it meant her mother wasn't the only woman.
And AiLi might not be the only daughter.
Their anniversary arrived — with rain sharp enough to pierce glass.
Zhou didn't believe in celebrations. But AiLi wore red anyway — not for love, but defiance.
"You dressed up," he said as she walked in.
"You're still breathing," she replied. "I figured that was worth something."
He chuckled. "Romantic."
They ate in the penthouse — candlelight flickering, food untouched.
Then the power went out.
A second later, the glass window shattered.
Gunshots.
Zhou dove over the table, covering AiLi. Li Chen burst in with a tactical team, exchanging fire with the silhouettes scaling the terrace.
AiLi crawled to safety — grabbed the weapon Zhou had taught her to shoot just last week.
One intruder broke through.
She didn't flinch.
She pulled the trigger.
Once.
Twice.
Blood sprayed the marble like spilled wine.
Zhou stared at her as the man fell.
She stood panting, face pale but eyes blazing.
"I told you," she whispered. "They'll bleed before they touch you."
Later, when the lights came back on and the floor was stained with silence, Zhou sat beside her.
"You shouldn't have had to do that," he said softly.
She leaned into him, stained and shaking.
"I was raised to obey. To be sweet. To sit still. But now?"
Her voice dropped.
"I'm done being the girl they married off like a pawn. I'm not their pet. I'm not your possession."
Zhou met her gaze, something flickering behind his walls.
"You're right," he said. "You're my equal. And now… you're my only weapon I trust."