Erick gazed at her and asked pointedly, "1008, your door's code. Set it on purpose with my birthday?"

Erick was uncertain about how to confront Elin, feeling slightly frustrated. Their connection would never receive his father's blessing. After all, Elin was merely the daughter of a maid. Even if Elin had never been married before, it still wouldn't be acceptable.

Elin squeezed her palm and responded quietly under his stare, “It's Dayton's birthday."

Erick froze, momentarily taken aback. He couldn't believe he had forgotten that Dayton, the guy he despised, was born on the same day as him.

Initially, their shared birthday had brought them closer than other children of nobility.

But Erick had never anticipated Dayton to be a pervert whose eyes were fixated on Elin, a timid and shy girl. It didn't take long before Dayton proposed to Elin, sparking Erick's jealousy.

Erick admitted to himself that he lacked Dayton's courage. In their world, marriage was a strategic move for advancing family interests, not a matter of personal choice.

Not in Erick's wildest dream did he expect Dayton dared to abuse and torture Elin, the marriage a deliberate move to provide convenience to satisfy his twisted sense of pleasure.

Yet, what truly shocked Erick was Elin's setting the passcode with Dayton's birthday, seemingly a sign of her enduring love despite everything.

Erick's eyes lingered on the old scar on Elin's shoulder, and he asked, “If you loved him so much, why did you run away?"

Feeling his gaze, Elin tensed and hunched her shoulders, betraying her discomfort. Unlike other women, she felt self-conscious about her back, not proud or confident to display it. The scars on her back were the results of Dayton's mistreatment of her.

Elin shook her head, her voice soft. "I don't love him."

A feeling of joy inexplicably stirred inside Erick's heart at her words.

Elin continued, “I've been his wife for two years. I have gotten used to it."

It was similar to the chill that swept over Elin every time she thought of Dayton. She had simply become accustomed to it. In public, she had to act like she adored Dayton, bowing to him and praising him...

Habit was indeed more terrifying than love.

Erick was stunned and didn't expect this. How could Elin have become accustomed to Dayton's wife?

"Go back to sleep." Elin gently pushed Erick away and hurried back to her bed. She feared that if she lingered even a second longer, she would not be able to contain her sorrow and her face would betray her despair in front of Erick. She didn't want his pity.

Erick lingered in the kitchen, lost in thought. When he walked back to the bedroom and saw Elin curled up on one side of the bed, a twinge of pain struck his heart.

The bed was spacious, his own impression from just lying there still visible, yet she had distanced herself so easily.

As the cold wind slipped in, Erick's thoughts sharpened. Even with his naive understanding of love, he could feel Elin's detachment. As for their intimacy, she probably acted out of that cursed sense of gratitude.

Elin's reaction should be seen as a relief, but Erick felt a blockage in his chest, his frustration boiling over. He couldn't quite pinpoint the cause of his frustration.

After a brief pause, his pride wouldn't let him stay here any longer.

He quickly dressed, regaining his composed and distant demeanor. He glanced at Elin on the bed, who seemed to be either asleep or feigning sleep. Without a word, he left, closing the door behind him.

The door made a soft rebounding sound.

Elin's eyes snapped open.