Stella stood in her high heels, looking at once imposing yet bewitching.

In the past, just seeing her like that would send me jumping toward her.

But now, my heart didn't race at all.

She never noticed, and walked closer, her heels clicking in her wake. "You've changed."

I kept my head down so that I wasn't looking at her, and she continued with her holier-art-thou tone, "I know you liked that watch, but you caused so much trouble in just two weeks. Not getting it is your punishment.

"That said, you've been disciplined today and I'm so satisfied I can grant you one wish… As long as it's not too much."

I looked up at her face, suddenly feeling nostalgic.

The first time we had met was at a party—those rich brats from the city who were told by their parents to suck up to me, were instead mocking me because of my choice of clothing.

I was too self-deprecating to fight back, let alone speak out loud.

It was Stella who stepped up, slapping their ringleader across the face and calling them bums.

After those rich brats fled, she turned to me, frowning. "You are the heir to the Sullivans. Don't cringe and cower—show some spine. They're all meant to grovel at your feet."

I stuttered, "B-But they might hate me…"

"Hate?" Stella scoffed. "No. Always remember—your last name alone is reason enough for them to fawn all over you, even if you kick them around. Understand?!"

And I had held on to those words for five years.

But in the end, Stella turned against me too, belittling me in full view of the public, calling me names or snapping at me for making a scene over the little things—even if those rich brats were the ones who had started it.

That protectiveness she showed when we first met had also long since faded, and I couldn't find any sign of it on her face now.

"Have you thought of something yet?" she urged me. "I'm on the clock. Don't be so greedy."

I had to lean against the wall as I felt the faint painful spasms in my left leg, clearing my head.

And she was the reason I was suffering.

I had told the loan sharks who I was, even calling her number—which I had committed to memory, for help.

But what had she done?

"What are you playing at this time?!" she had snapped at me over the phone. "All you do is hang out with your useless friends—won't you ever learn to improve?! The Sullivans could really do without a piece of shit like you."

Not satisfied, she went on to snap at those loan sharks.

Furious, they vented their anger on me, making me slap myself, only stopping me when my cheeks swelled and were barely recognizable, and I could feel my teeth aching.

And because my cheeks were too swollen, even eating suddenly took effort.

I couldn't even chew the buns they threw at me, so they stomped them into tiny pieces caked with dirt before shoving them into my mouth.

My stomach was churning again at the thought, but I fought against the impulse to retch and shook my head. "Sorry, there's nothing I want."

Stella lifted a brow suspiciously, and growled threateningly, "I gave you a chance but you spurned it. Just don't bother me later—I'm not that patient."

"No, I won't," I replied quietly.

All I wanted was for her to leave right then.

"You'd better not," she snorted.

For her part, she didn't insist—perhaps because she was reluctant to reward me in the first place.

She strode off, but paused a few paces away, "And don't bother Uriah anymore. There's nothing between us."

With that, she was gone before I could respond.

I waited until midnight when my father finally returned from the office, and went to see him with a suitcase.

I only brought along the very worn clothes that Grandpa had given me on the day the Sullivans came to bring me home.

Wiping my tears and zipping up the suitcase, I left the suitcase by the doorway and knocked on the door to my father's study, and waited.

"Come in," he finally said.

"Dad," I greeted him as I entered, standing tamely at a corner.

He studied me, pursing his lips when he saw the bruises on my bare skin. "I heard about what happened—it's our fault for confiscating your debit card, and you wouldn't have—"

"Dad," I cut him short, losing composure right then.

But I just can't bear to be reminded of those nightmarish days.

Sighing, I said, "I'd like to move out."

He sighed as he reclined against his seat. "I know you're still blaming us, and it's our fault for not being there for you… but your mother's going to miss you."

I hung my head and said self-deprecatingly, "You'll still have Uriah."

"What about Stella?" He countered. "You love her, don't you? Can you really bear to leave her?"

I was silent.

Indeed, everyone knew that I was in love with Stella—I couldn't stop myself from chasing after her ever since we met.

The rich and the privileged called me her loyal dog, but none of them remembered I tried to make something for myself.

And when I failed and lost millions, she was there, standing firm at my side and telling me tenderly that it was business—there'd always be losses.

She was there for me when I retaliated after being mocked, even telling me I did well.

She was always dining with me, happily receiving my flowers and remembering my birthday.

But she changed when Uriah returned from abroad.

She was the one who told me that a person must always fend for themselves so that they wouldn't be constantly bullied.

That I had the right to defend myself because I was heir to the Sullivan family.

Ironically, she was also the one who told me I had become too thorny, and told me she had to dethorn and tame me.

"I think we should call off our engagement," I said to my father, and to myself. "I won't cling to her anymore."

My father breathed a long sigh, but nodded in understanding and slid the debit card into my palm. "Try to visit us whenever you can."

My fingers tightened around the debit card without knowing it as I bowed my head. "Thank you."

He nodded in turn. "I'll be sending more money from time to time. It's fine if you don't like it here, but you're always our son—you can return whenever."

I turned, resolved not to respond to the concern that came all too late.

"Do you need a ride?" He asked.

I shook my head.

At this point, I understand that the wounds in my heart wouldn't ever heal as long as I stayed in this house or near Stella.

I had to let go of the past and start anew.

My father had to let me leave too, as he understood what happened drove us apart, and making me stay would only make me hate them.

And I couldn't care less about how Stella would react either.