By the time the cab stopped in front of the Markston family estate, dusk had settled like a slow sigh across the city. The mansion loomed quietly, bathed in the amber hue of the garden lamps, its gates opening at the mere mention of my name. My chest felt heavy — too heavy for the simple act of returning home.

I stepped out slowly, clutching my bag, the truth Adrian revealed still echoing in my mind.

KNT wasn’t behind JB’s collapse.

Vincent wasn’t the one who hurt us. I had blamed him unfairly, spat cruel words without proof, let my anger blind me to reason.

Tonight, I was going to make it right.

But as I climbed the marble stairs and reached the main entrance, something in the air felt wrong — tense, cold, suffocating. The maids’ eyes darted toward me before quickly bowing their heads and retreating, as if afraid to be caught in the storm that lingered inside the mansion.

“Ma’am,” one of them whispered, nervously wringing her hands, “the Master is in his study.”

I nodded faintly and walked toward the corridor. Each step felt heavier than the last. The hall was silent except for the echo of my heels against the marble floor. I could already see the faint glow of light beneath the study door.

I took a deep breath and knocked.

No answer.

“Vincent,” I called softly, my voice barely above a whisper. “It’s me.”

“Come in.”

The sound of his voice — cold, controlled, clipped — made my heart tremble. I pushed the door open.

He stood by the window, his jacket off, his sleeves rolled up, a glass of whiskey in his hand. The dim light of the room painted his face in sharp lines, his jaw tight, eyes unreadable. But I could feel it — something inside him was burning.

“Vincent—” I began.

He turned slowly, cutting me off before I could finish. His eyes were dark, stormy, and filled with something that looked too much like disappointment.

“Enjoyed your little outing?” he asked coldly.

I frowned, confused. “What do you mean?”

He tossed his phone across the desk toward me. It slid to a stop right in front of me, the screen lighting up. My heart sank when I saw it.

A photo.

Me and Adrian. Outside the baby shop. His hand around my waist. My body leaning into his. To anyone else — it looked intimate. Too intimate.

My lips parted, but no words came out.

“Vincent, this isn’t—”

“Spare me the explanation,” he said sharply. “I’ve seen enough.”

“Vincent, please—” I took a step closer, my voice trembling. “It wasn’t what it looked like. I stumbled, and he—he just caught me.”

“Of course he did,” he muttered bitterly, swirling the glass in his hand. “And I suppose the touching, the closeness, the smiles — all of it was accidental too?”

Tears burned my eyes. “Why won’t you just listen?”

He laughed, low and bitter. “Funny. Isn’t that exactly what I asked you the last time we argued about JB Company? For you to listen?”

The words hit me like a slap. I froze, my throat tightening.

“Vincent, I came here because I needed to tell you the truth,” I said quickly, stepping closer. “Adrian told me everything. It wasn’t KNT behind the problem with JB. It was another company—”

“I don’t care anymore, Alice.”

I stopped breathing.

He downed the rest of his drink, setting the glass down with a hard clink. “You’re late. Whatever truth you think you’ve discovered doesn’t matter now. You made your choice — your accusations, your disgust, your indifference.”

“I was wrong,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “I thought you— I didn’t know—”

He cut me off, his tone slicing like a blade. “You said it yourself, remember? That what we had was just a *contract.* Nothing more.”

My eyes widened, tears spilling down my cheeks. “Vincent, I didn’t mean it that way—”

“Don’t lie.” His voice was calm now, dangerously calm. “You meant every word. And now that I finally understand, I’m just returning the favor.”

I shook my head in disbelief, stepping closer. “Vincent, please, I’m trying to fix this—”

“Fix?” He scoffed. “You can’t fix something that’s already dead.”

My knees weakened. “You don’t mean that,” I whispered, trembling.

His gaze hardened. “You’re right, I don’t. Because there’s nothing left to mean, Alice. You wanted distance — I’m giving it to you.”

“Please, Vincent…” My voice cracked as I reached out to him, but he stepped back.

“Leave,” he said quietly, each word heavy with restrained emotion. “Before I say something I’ll regret.”

“Vincent, please listen to me!” I cried, but his jaw only tightened further.

“Enough!” he shouted suddenly, his composure shattering for the first time. “Just go, Alice. I don’t want to see you right now.”

The room fell silent after that — painfully, deafeningly silent.

I stood there for a moment, staring at him, my heart breaking in slow motion. Then I nodded weakly, swallowing the sob that clawed at my throat.

“Alright,” I whispered. “I’ll go.”

I turned and walked out before my tears could betray me further.

The hallway felt colder than ever. Every step echoed louder, emptier. When I reached the guest room, I shut the door softly and collapsed onto the bed, burying my face in the pillow as tears spilled freely.

I wanted to scream, to explain, to make him understand — but what good would it do? He already decided what he wanted to believe.

Maybe I deserve this,I thought bitterly, clutching the sheets. Maybe this is my punishment for not trusting him.

Outside, thunder rolled faintly, followed by the soft patter of rain against the window. It was almost cruel how the world seemed to mourn with me.

Meanwhile, in his room across the hall, Vincent stood by the window, staring at the dark sky. His reflection stared back at him — cold, tired, angry.

“She made her choice,” he muttered under his breath, loosening his tie. “It’s better this way.”

But his hand trembled slightly as he reached for the next drink.

His phone buzzed. A message. From Lilian.

> “I heard about what happened between you and Alice… are you okay?”

He stared at the message for a long time before typing back.

> I’m fine.”

He set the phone down and leaned back in his chair, trying to convince himself he wasn’t lying.

Somewhere deep inside, he knew he wasn’t fine at all.

Because even though he had dismissed Alice with cruel words, it wasn’t anger that kept him awake that night — it was the look on her face when she left.

The look of a woman whose heart had just been broken for the second time by the same man.