One night before our engagement, Darren Finch insisted on throwing a singles party aboard a cruise ship. He made it clear I wasn't invited.

But in the middle of the night, I got a call saying he'd fallen overboard.

Panic overtook me. Feverish and disoriented, I stumbled to the deck and dove into the sea without a second thought.

The night waters were icy, sapping the strength from my limbs. As I was pulled back onto the deck, shivering and soaked, I heard laughter ring out from the crowd.

Carrie Specter, Darren's childhood sweetheart, stood above me. She gave a soft, lilting laugh.

"Seeing how far you're willing to go for Darren... I can finally hand him over to you without worry."

At that, Darren wrapped an arm smugly around her waist. "Carrie, you really do know me best."

"I told you," she beamed, "Paula would pass your test."

I let out a cold laugh, slipped the engagement ring from my finger, and flung it at his face.

"No, thanks. I wish you two eternal bliss. Just don't ever drag me into your drama again."

"Damn, Darren's got his girl on lock."

"Seriously. A catch like Carrie as his soulmate, plus an obsessed girlfriend? Dude's living the dream."

"Yo Darren, drop the game—how do you train 'em so good?"

The laughter that followed was rowdy and indulgent.

Darren Finch, grinning smugly, pulled Carrie Specter closer by the shoulder. The two stood intimately side by side.

At a glance, they looked like the couple about to get engaged.

Meanwhile, I—the actual girlfriend—stood there soaking wet amid the glitzy crowd, looking nothing short of pathetic.

I was already unwell, and after half an hour in the ocean, my body was on the verge of collapse.

Carrie smiled sweetly and said, "Seeing how hard you're willing to fight for Darren, I can finally hand him over to you with peace of mind."

I let out a laugh. My head spun, but I forced myself forward a step, steadying my gaze on her.

"Are you his mother? What gives you the right to say that to me?"

Carrie froze, caught off guard. The contempt in her eyes deepened.

Darren's face darkened. Feigning patience, he reached out to pull me closer. "Paula, how could you say that? Carrie and I grew up together. She's just worried I might end up with the wrong person—"

The wrong person?

Heh. We've lived under the same roof for over ten years. What does that make me?

His voice trailed off, as if he realized just how ridiculous he sounded.

I stepped back, avoiding his hand.

Then, slowly, I pulled off the ring from my fourth finger and hurled it at Carrie's face with all my strength.

"No need to test me anymore. I wish you two everlasting happiness. Just don't drag me into your mess again."

The ring struck her cheek. She shrieked and clutched her face.

"Are you insane?!"

Darren quickly stepped in front of her, glaring at me.

My left hand trembled as I forced myself upright. Without another word, I turned and walked away, ignoring Darren's voice shouting my name behind me.

Once off the ship, I barely held it together long enough to flag down a cab and make it home.

I threw myself into the bathtub. Even the scalding water couldn't warm the chill that had seeped into my bones.

My phone, left carelessly on the sink, lit up with a message. It was from Carrie.

Carrie: [Paula, do yourself a favor and stop clinging to Darren.]

Carrie: [You saw it yourself. He'd gladly torment you just because I hinted at it.]

She even attached a photo of Darren, sleeping peacefully beside her.

I stared at the image, a wave of nausea tightening in my chest.

I didn't feel anger; just a bone-deep exhaustion that made me feel hollow.

I picked up my phone, blocked her, and deleted every trace of her from my contacts.

Silence, at last.

Not long after, the doorbell exploded into a frantic ringing.

I didn't need to guess who it was.

When I opened the door, Darren stood there, face still twisted with anger.

He barked at me, "Paula! What was that attitude back on the ship? Do you know how much embarrassment you caused me?!"

As if completely blind to his own actions, he had the nerve to blame me first.

"You threw the ring. What's that supposed to mean? You don't want to get engaged anymore?!"

I looked at him. My gaze was calm and expressionless.

"That's right. I don't. Darren, let me go."

"Let you go? Are you serious, Paula?"

His eyes widened in disbelief, his voice rising. "You're an orphan! If my father hadn't taken you in out of kindness, where would you be now, huh? Eating our food, living in our home—and now you think you've grown wings and can just leave? I'm telling you, not a chance!"

Orphan.

The word pricked lightly at my heart, like a thorn. But it no longer stirred much inside me.

Darren didn't know yet—my biological parents had found me years ago. They lived abroad, successful in their careers, with a comfortable life. They'd been waiting for me to return.

The only reason I'd stayed behind, cleaning up the wreckage of the Finch family, was to repay my debt to Darren's father, who had raised me for ten years.

I promised him I would keep the Finch Corporation steady, and keep a watchful eye on Darren. Until the day he could stand on his own, or until he found someone truly dependable.

After his father's death, I exhausted myself filling the holes left in the company. I endured Darren's arrogance and whims, endured the petty humiliations he engineered with Carrie just to spite me.

But now… I was tired. And I had done enough.

"Darren, just leave."

"Paula! You dare kick me out? Don't forget, this house—"

Darren was shaking with rage.

"This house was bought with my own money," I cut him off. "It has nothing to do with your family."

"You—" Darren choked on his words.

He probably never imagined that I—Paula, who had always obeyed without question, who gave without asking for anything in return—would ever speak to him like this.

He froze for a moment, then, as if something occurred to him, let out a cold laugh.

"Fine, Paula. Just wait. Let's see how well you do without me and the Finch family. I hope you enjoy your downfall."

He threw out his threat and slammed the door on his way out.

I leaned against the doorframe and slowly slid to the floor, coughing violently.

It took a long time to catch my breath. Then, with trembling fingers, I picked up my phone and dialed a familiar number.

"Paula? Why are you calling this late? Did something happen?"

The sound of my mother's voice brought tears to my eyes.

Choking back a sob, I whispered, "Mom… I want to come home. I'll take care of things here, then go abroad… and be with you and Dad again."

Joy poured through the phone. "That's great news! Paula, we've been waiting for you. Your father will be so happy when he hears this!"

The next day, despite burning with a fever, I began preparing the handover for Finch Corporation.

What I promised Darren's father was to keep the company afloat, not to raise a son who refused to grow up.

That afternoon, Darren called.

I hesitated, then picked up.

"Paula, where are you?" His tone had softened, if only slightly.

"Is something wrong?"

"Carrie said what happened last night was her fault." He paused, then added, "She wants to apologize to you. We booked a private room at Nightfall Bar. Come meet us there."

Carrie wanted to apologize to me?

A bitter laugh rose in my chest.

Most likely, it was just another one of their little games.

But then again—fine. It was time to put an end to this, once and for all. No more blurred lines. No more entanglements.

"All right. I'll come." I agreed.

I changed clothes, tidied myself up, and drove to Nightfall Bar.

When I opened the door to the private room, Darren was seated at the head of the table. Carrie sat beside him.

All eyes turned to me the moment I walked in.

Carrie raised her glass with a falsely sweet smile.

"Paula, you made it. About last night—I wasn't thinking clearly. Things may have gotten a little out of hand."

Her tone was breezy, devoid of remorse. "But it was only to test your feelings for Darren. Don't take it so personally."

She lifted her glass. "Drink with me if you forgive me."

And with that, she took a sip, calm and composed, as if the whole thing had been nothing more than a joke.

I stood where I was, unmoving.

Darren's brows knit together, his voice laced with open irritation.

"Paula, what are you standing there for? Carrie already apologized. What more do you want? Come sit down and talk this through."

He patted the empty seat beside him, as if doing me a favor.

I drew in a deep breath, forcing down the emotions rising in my chest, and replied evenly, "I didn't come here to hear an apology. I came to hand over the Finch Corporation's affairs."

From the briefcase at my side, I pulled out a neatly organized set of documents and resignation I had written long ago. I placed them on the table.

"These are the financial reports from the past three years, the contracts for all active projects, and the company's strategic plan for the next twelve months. And this is my letter of resignation. As of today, I will no longer be involved in Finch Corporation's operations.

"Darren, take care of it as you see fit."

The moment my words fell, the room fell into stunned silence.

All eyes turned toward me, their gazes tinged with disbelief.

Darren's expression darkened immediately. His face flushed, and he shot to his feet.

"Paula, what the hell are you saying? You're leaving?!"

"Yes," I answered calmly. "This company was your father's legacy to you. It should be yours to manage. How you manage it is no longer my concern."

"Paula! Have you forgotten? If it weren't for my father, you'd still be begging under some bridge! And now that you've grown wings, you want to cut ties? Let me tell you—if I don't give you permission, you're not leaving Finch Corporation!"

Carrie, now catching up, jabbed a finger toward my face, her tone sharp.

"Paula, don't be ungrateful! Darren gave you a chance to work at his company. That's more than you deserve! Who do you think you're fooling with this little act of playing hard to get? Apologize to Darren now, or you're going to regret it!"

The others joined in, talking over one another.

"Yeah, Paula, don't be like this. Just say sorry to Darren."

"We're all friends here—why make things ugly?"

"Darren treats you so well. How can you turn your back on him like this?"

Looking at the faces around me, I could only feel how absurd it all was.

"If what you call 'treat me well' is treating me like a servant at your beck and call, then I sincerely hope each of you finds someone just as 'good' to love."

The room fell completely silent.

Only the sound of Darren's ragged, furious breathing remained.

"I've said what I came to say. Enjoy the rest of your evening."

With that, I turned and walked out, ignoring the shouts behind me.

Glass shattered.

Darren's voice followed, hoarse with rage, "Paula! If you walk out that door today, don't even think about coming back! I order you to apologize right now—and go through with our engagement!"

I didn't slow down, didn't even look back. Some people never learn.

With Darren, I had already done more than enough.

I packed my things that night, listed the apartment for sale, and moved temporarily into a hotel near the office to handle the final stages of my departure.

Darren's calls and messages came in a relentless barrage—blame, accusations, commands.

"Is this how you repay my dad for raising you?

"Do you remember what you promised me? How you swore to him you'd stay by my side?

"Ungrateful wretch. Don't think for a second that I can't survive without you. The company will be just fine without you!"

I stared at his messages, and couldn't help but laugh.

He hadn't changed. Still perched above everyone else, convinced the world revolved around him.

I didn't respond. I simply blocked his number.