The house was in the opposite direction of the venue and if Vivienne had to walk back, it would take her at least seven or eight hours without a single break. By the time she finally reached home, her body was drained and completely worn out.

But there was no time to rest. Vivienne wasted no moment and immediately contacted her financial advisor, instructing him to liquidate all her assets.

These funds were hers, earned from writing novels and selling their rights. They had nothing to do with Cassian.

Years ago, Cassian cleared her debts, paid her mother’s medical bills and supported her through school. She had kept meticulous track of every expense he’d made for her and now, she intended to return every cent, severing all ties with him once and for all.

After two or three hours of sorting her finances, she collapsed onto the bed, exhausted. But before she could rest, Cassian returned home as if nothing had happened.

"Vivienne, make me a bowl of hangover soup," he ordered.

Vivienne’s breath caught in her throat, but she steeled herself and forced her legs to move. She couldn't risk showing weakness until she was completely free from Cassian’s hold.

With his family’s influence, she wasn’t sure she’d even be able to escape the villa.

Staring into the flickering flames of the stove, she was lost in thought when Cassian’s voice cut through her reverie.

"What are you doing, so lost in thought?"

The soup had long since boiled over, spilling out of the pot in a bubbling mess.

Startled back to reality, Vivienne quickly turned off the heat, but the boiling water seared her hand.

She jerked her hand back with a sharp cry, the pain searing through her skin.

Cassian’s voice, sharp and commanding, pierced through her daze. He grabbed her hand, placing it under cold running water.

"How could you be so careless? A grown woman and you still manage to burn yourself just making soup? Quite the talent," he scolded, urgency slipping into his tone.

Suppressing her urge to pull away, Vivienne let him hold her hand beneath the cold water.

Noticing her lack of response, Cassian’s gaze darkened, his impatience evident.

"Why aren’t you saying anything?"

"Still angry?"

"Vivienne, I’ve warned you time and time again, don’t harbor any foolish thoughts about me."

"If you weren’t hoping for something, why would you have been so eager to wear that wedding dress? Were you thinking you could use that to secure a title from me?"

"I’ll tell you this, you’re not fit to be Mrs. Tucker. Someone like you, with no status or power, will never deserve it."

"Consider this your lesson. If it happens again, you’ll suffer a hundred times more."

"Did you hear me?"

Once, Vivienne would have flinched at his words, but now, she concealed the cold resolve within her, bowing her head in apparent meekness.

"I heard you. I’ve learned my lesson. I won’t covet things that aren’t meant for me anymore."

The words hit their mark, but instead of satisfaction, Cassian froze. His breath caught for a moment and then a rush of anger swept over him. Without warning, he flung her hand aside, storming out of the room.

She was caught off guard by his sudden movement and her already injured hand slammed into the hard edge of the table, drawing a stream of blood.

Cassian immediately turned, panic flashing across his face. "I’ll take you to the hospital!"

Vivienne didn’t protest, simply nodding. "Alright."

As he started the car, the navigation system chimed and Freya’s sweet voice echoed through the speakers.

"Are you ready, Cassian? Let’s head towards happiness together!"

Cassian’s expression shifted and he quickly tried to explain, "Freya took an endorsement for this navigation software. She was worried she wouldn’t get it right during the recording, so she decided to test it out in my car first."

He added, "If it bothers you, I can switch it."

Vivienne suppressed the sting of pain in her hand and responded with a calm composure, "There’s no need."

Cassian studied her, a flicker of surprise crossing his face as he checked her expression for any hint of discomfort. "You’re not upset?"

Vivienne pressed her lips together, the words hanging between them.

Being angry required caring and that was something she no longer felt for him.

In the past, Freya had hurt her because she had still held on to some attachment to Cassian.

Now, she had nothing left to lose. Why would she bother herself with the women in his life?

"It’s just a navigation voice. I’m not that petty."

Cassian suddenly grew animated. "Why couldn’t you have been this way before?"

"I promise, no matter who I marry in the future, you’ll always have a place in my heart and our relationship will never change."

"Vivienne, you're the one I truly love."

In the past, hearing Cassian confess his love would have made Vivienne’s heart soar.

But now, all she felt was disgust.

"Let’s go. My hand really hurts."

Vivienne and Cassian lived in a secluded villa in the suburbs, a quiet haven far from the bustle of the city.

The neighborhood boasted excellent security, but its remoteness was a constant reminder of how disconnected it was from the life Vivienne once knew.

The pain in her hand had intensified, leaving her with a numb, dull ache that seemed to spread through her entire arm. Leaning against the car window, her face pale, she fought the dizziness creeping over her.

After a ten-minute drive, just as they reached the city's edge, Cassian’s phone rang.

"Cassian, what are you doing? Freya misses you!"

The familiar, personalized ringtone of Freya echoed in the car.

Vivienne turned her gaze to the window, desperate to avoid the suffocating reality of it all.

To her surprise, after glancing at Vivienne’s face quickly, Cassian ignored Freya’s call and pressed the gas pedal harder.

When the car came to a stop at the next red light, Freya’s call rang through again.

Cassian fidgeted awkwardly. "Freya called twice; she might need something urgent..."

"Go ahead, answer it," Vivienne said flatly, cutting him off.

Sweat beaded on her forehead from the pain and the skin on her burned hand felt as though it were still being scorched by fire. Every fiber of her being screamed to claw at it, but she held herself back.

Cassian answered the call and a soft, genuine smile spread across his face as his fingers tapped the steering wheel in a rhythmic pattern. "Cassian, I’m really craving that strawberry cake from the dessert shop in the south part of town!"

The mention of the familiar shop made Vivienne’s eyes snap open. She couldn’t help but glance at him, a bitter taste rising in her chest.

It was the same cake he had bought for her all those years ago when he’d rescued her from the clutches of her debt collectors.

And whenever he had angered her, he would show up with that cake, hoping to win her forgiveness. And each time, she had given in.

Vivienne had once thought it was a special little understanding between them. But now, it had twisted into nothing more than a way for Cassian and Freya to flirt, an inside joke she had never been a part of.

The taste of the cake, sickly and sweet, lingered in Vivienne’s throat, bringing a wave of nausea that made her stomach flip. Her face drained of color as the feeling threatened to overwhelm her.

“Freya asked for some dessert,” Cassian explained, as though the reason was perfectly reasonable. “Her manager’s always watching, so she finally gets a break. I can’t disappoint her.” He added quickly, “I’ll call Remiel to pick you up. Wait by the corner for a moment.”

Without missing a beat, Cassian pulled over, clearly eager to leave.

Suddenly, a deafening clap of thunder split the air, rattling Vivienne and making her shiver uncontrollably. The rain began to pour in torrents as if the sky had cracked open.

Vivienne tightened her grip on the seatbelt, curling up in her seat, trembling uncontrollably.

The storm brought with it memories she couldn’t escape. When her father had failed in his investments and jumped to his death, the debt collectors always seemed to show up during storms like this, demanding what they were owed.

Her mother, always out working, left Vivienne alone at home and the sounds, the wind howling, thunder cracking, the shouting, the relentless pounding on the door, had struck her young heart like a hammer, imprinting a deep-seated fear.

Ever since that night, she had been terrified of thunder.

In the past, Cassian had discovered her fear and would hold her close, covering her ears as he spoke in a raspy, soothing voice, "Don’t be scared, Vivienne. I’m here."

“It’s just thunder. If you’re still afraid, you can hide in my arms, alright?”

But now, Cassian simply frowned, his gaze cold as ice, with a faint hint of concern furrowing his brow.

Vivienne knew all too well that his worry wasn’t for her. "Freya, are you scared again?"

"Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll be there soon."

Once he ended the call with Freya, Cassian’s patience snapped and he clicked his tongue in irritation. "Hurry up and get out of the car."

"Can you stop being so dramatic over a minor injury?"

Vivienne’s fingers trembled as she gripped the seatbelt, doing her best to mask her unease as she replied, "The rain’s coming down so hard. I’m worried my wound might get infected."

Cassian’s face darkened at once and he sneered, his disdain palpable. "Vivienne, what are you pretending for?"

"Freya was coddled like a princess, so of course she’s afraid of thunder. But you, afraid of thunder?"

"Don’t play the pity card here. Get out of the car, now!"

Before Vivienne could even open her mouth to defend herself, Cassian had already stepped out into the relentless rain, swiftly circling to her side. With a firm grip, he yanked her from the passenger seat, effortlessly undoing her seatbelt and pulling her out without a second thought.

"See that? A bus stop just a hundred meters away. Wait there for Remiel to pick you up."

"I know you're upset. Call me when you're done at the hospital and I’ll come get you."

The car sped away like a shadow, splashing filthy water across Vivienne, though the torrential rain quickly rinsed it off.

The raindrops stung like tiny daggers against her skin as she cradled her injured hand to her chest and stumbled toward the bus stop.

The open shelter at the stop barely shielded her from the deluge and the pain in her hand gradually numbed.

Her body burned with fever, her thoughts were muddled and her lips, cold as ice, began to turn an unnatural shade of purple.