Chapter 1Tethered to His Heartbeat

Since I was a kid, I’ve been a golden retriever in human form—blessed with a rare, relentless brand of optimism. A walking dopamine machine.

That was until Wyatt Landry, a billionaire worth hundreds of billions, signed me to live in his sprawling estate. My daily allowance was one hundred thousand dollars. My sole KPI? Just stay happy.

You see, Wyatt suffered from severe, treatment-resistant clinical depression. He lived perpetually on the edge of a precipice, always one bad day away from the roof.

But somehow, our emotions became linked.

As long as I was giggling, he felt the world was worth living in. The moment my mouth curved downward, he was looking for a rope.

Last month, the male lead in my favorite TV drama died, and I let out a couple of genuine, heart-wrenching sobs. At that exact moment, in the middle of a high-stakes board meeting, Wyatt broke down in uncontrollable tears. The terrified executives spent three hundred million dollars overnight just to force the production team to shoot an alternate resurrection ending.

From that day on, my happiness became the company’s highest classified secret.

Until Wyatt went on an overseas business trip. That was when Isabel Caldwell—who fancied herself his rightful fiancée—marched into my walk-in closet with a flock of bodyguards.

"What kind of garbage are you to spend Wyatt's money just to keep yourself amused? It's time someone taught you some manners!"

She sneered, snatching a rare, limited-edition figurine from my hands and smashing it to pieces. Then she reached for the front-row concert tickets of my favorite artist, preparing to rip them to shreds.

Staring at the broken pieces on the floor, I broke down and sobbed.

The second my tears fell, I could almost hear the heavy, exhausted sigh from across the ocean—Wyatt stepping onto the ledge of a skyscraper, completely done with this world.

Oh, God. This woman wasn’t just destroying my toys. She was about to destroy her future husband's life.

* * *

I forced myself to stop crying.

As soon as the first tear escaped, my entire body went rigid. Wyatt was wishing for death again.

I reached down and clamped my nails deep into the flesh of my inner thigh, hard enough to draw blood. I gritted my teeth and forced a stiff, unnatural grin onto my face.

"What are you smiling at?" Isabel demanded.

She ground her designer stiletto heel into the shattered remains of my collectible figurine, the plastic crunching under her weight.

"I smash your things and you laugh? Are you mocking me? Laughing because you think I don't have the authority to put you in your place, or because you think I can't touch you?"

I’m trying to save your fiancé’s life. But I couldn't say it. I just kept up my stupid, vacant smile.

The emotional link was a Tier-S classified secret, a clause baked into my contract with Wyatt. If the public found out, the entire Landry corporate empire would implode overnight.

"Miss Caldwell, you’ve got it all wrong," I squeaked. "Wyatt and I... we don't have that kind of relationship."

"He lets me live here because—"

"Because why? Because you're cheap?" Isabel spat, stepping closer. "Wyatt and I grew up together. Our families have had an understanding since we were children. Who do you think you are? A nobody with no family name, living in his mansion and spending his money?"

She waved a manicured hand toward the closet.

"Pack up everything she owns. Every single thing. Throw it in boxes and get it out of here."

"Don't leave a trace."

Four hulking bodyguards in dark suits pushed past her, tearing through my drawers and cabinets.

I didn't try to stop them. Clothes could be replaced. A life couldn't.

"Miss Caldwell, I strongly suggest you stop this," I said, my voice barely a whisper. "If you make me unhappy, something terrible will happen to Wyatt."

Isabel blinked, stunned for a fraction of a second, before bursting into a harsh, mocking laugh.

"Oh, please! Listen to yourself. He’ll get hurt if you get upset? Who do you think you are? You think you control his heartbeat?" She rolled her eyes. "Unbelievable. The lies you gold-diggers spin get more pathetic by the day."

I thought back to a company retreat last year. A vice president named Mr. Gallagher had made a snide remark, calling me a useless trophy ornament. It was a single sentence, but it made my eyes sting with tears for all of three seconds.

Just three seconds.

Wyatt had smashed his glass in his office, stormed out, and confronted Gallagher directly. By that evening, Gallagher was committed to a psychiatric facility, stripped of every asset and title. His entire family spent two days kneeling in the rain outside the Landry headquarters, begging for mercy.

"Cut the act," Isabel said, snatching the concert tickets from my hand and ripping them down the middle, letting the confetti-like pieces flutter down onto my face. "I am the sole heiress to the Caldwell Group. My father holds fifteen percent of Landry stock. You think a creature like you can compete with me?"

She leaned in, her breath cold against my ear.

"I’m cleaning house for Wyatt today. If you have any sense left in that empty head of yours, you’ll pack up and crawl out of here on your own. Otherwise, I will make your life a living hell."

Suddenly, the sound of frantic, heavy footsteps echoed from the hallway.

"Miss Caldwell! Stop! Please!"