—TWO YEARS AGO — FLASHBACK —

“I told you, Jace! He kissed me...he kissed me!” Ariel yelled, voice cracking.

“And you just stood there?” Jace’s voice boomed as he turned on her, his hands clenching into fists. “You let him put his filthy hands on you and didn’t even slap him?”

“I pushed him away! Right after he did it!” she cried. “I didn’t kiss him back! I would never, how could you even think that?”

“I saw it, Ariel! I saw his lips on yours! And you—you were just standing there like—like it didn’t even matter!”

“Because I was shocked! I didn’t expect it—God, Jace, do you seriously think I wanted that? That I wanted him?”

Jace raked his hand through his hair, his jaw clenching so tight it looked like it might crack. “You’re mine. Do you understand that? Mine. And no one—no one touches what’s mine.”

“That’s the problem!” Ariel shouted, her voice high and trembling. “You treat me like I’m your property! Like you own me instead of loving me!”

“I do love you!” he shouted back. “And because I love you, I can’t fucking breathe when I see another man near you!”

She stepped back, her expression cracking. “No, Jace. That’s not love. That’s obsession. And it’s killing us.”

He was quiet for a moment, breathing heavily, chest rising and falling. Then he muttered darkly, “Maybe you like the attention. Maybe you liked being kissed.”

Her eyes widened in betrayal. “How dare you.”

“If you didn’t want it, you would’ve punched him! You’ve always been fire, Ariel. You don’t freeze unless something stops you.”

“I didn’t freeze. I panicked,” she whispered. “Because I knew exactly what this would turn into with you. And I was right.”

“You should’ve thought about that before letting him get close!” Jace spat, his voice like poison. His eyes were blazing with something darker than jealousy—hurt, betrayal, fear. “You think just saying it wasn't your fault makes everything okay?!”

“I did everything I could to prove I love you, Jace!” she shouted, tears falling freely. “But you don’t want love. You want control. You want a puppet, not a person!”

He stepped back like she’d slapped him. His face twisted—whether in anger or pain, even he didn’t know.

“You know what?” His voice dropped cold, sharp like broken glass. “We’re done.”

Ariel's breath caught.

“What...?”

“You heard me.” He pointed back at the parked car. “Figure your own damn way home.”

“Jace—” she gasped, stepping toward him. “Please, don’t—”

But he had already turned.

He got into the car. Slammed the door. Engine roared to life.

And without another word, without a backward glance, he drove off into the night.

Leaving her standing on the shoulder of the highway, sobbing in the cold, abandoned by the only person she thought would never leave.

— THE NEXT MORNING —

A call came in. A lifeless body had been found near the cliffs on the east side of the island.

It was Ariel. She had jumped and her body broken on the rocks below, and the last thing she ever heard from the man she loved was:

We’re done.

— BACK TO PRESENT —

The candle on the cupcake had melted halfway, wax dripping into the frosting like silent tears.

Jace sat hunched on the edge of the bed, the photo frame still in his hands.

His cigarette burned down to the filter, forgotten.

His chest rose and fell in ragged sobs, and for once, the cold billionaire, the ruthless master, shattered into nothing more than a man drowning in guilt.

“I’m so sorry, Ariel…” his voice broke. “I’m so sorry…”

Jace dropped the picture frame and continued smoking, his eyes vacant as the memories rolled in like a storm he couldn’t stop.

Ariel was the only one he had ever truly loved. The only one who ever saw through the cold, ruthless surface of Jace Callahan.

He was obsessed with her—her voice, her fire, her touch, and now all he had left was a haunting echo that never left him.

He groaned, his jaw tightening, before ripping the cigarette from his lips and flinging it across the room. It hissed faintly as it hit the floor. Without thinking, he grabbed the picture frame again, staring into her eyes one last time before rage overtook him.

The frame shattered against the wall, the glass exploding into pieces. He stood there, chest heaving, fingers curled at his sides. It felt like the madness inside him had nowhere else to go but out.

“Why the hell did you have to kill yourself?! Why?!” he screamed, his voice cracking with the weight of everything he’d buried for two years.

He backed away, running both hands through his hair as he paced in uneven steps. His breathing grew louder, harsher, as if the walls were closing in on him.

He stopped in the middle of the room, staring at the broken shards glinting on the floor like fragments of her memory. His fists clenched, not out of a desire to hurt something—but out of helplessness.

“You were supposed to fight me!! Argue with me, stay mad. Just don’t—don’t leave like that,” he whispered, voice low and strangled.

He jammed his hand against the wall and in an instant, his fists landed against it in a fatal blow. Then another! And another! His fists now bloody from punching the wall.

He walked to where the picture frame was picked it.

He walked to where the picture frame was and took it, his fingers trembling as he picked up the photo, ignoring the shards of broken glass around it.

"Why'd you make me fall deeply in love with you," his voice cracked, “Only for you to leave me like this?! You're so unfair, Ariel! You're so unfair!" he shouted, squeezing the frame against his palms, knuckles white and blood trickling down his palm.