For ten years, I was Scarlett DeLuca’s human pillow—the only man who could soothe her insomnia. I loved her in silence while she chased other men, then tore apart my diary and called me a paid servant. When my contract expired, I disappeared to claim the identity I’d hidden: the Crane family heir. A year later, Scarlett overdosed on sleeping pills and begged me to return. But her regret came too late. She finally understood what she had lost—just as I learned to live without her.
