By midnight, Victor still had not returned.

I couldn't fall asleep the whole night. That was when I heard noises from the kitchen downstairs.

Victor was back. His shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, showing off his strong forearms. He was putting the already cold steak I had made for him last night back into the pan.

He said, "I'll make up for Valentine's Day with you today."

Then, he cut off a small piece of steak and ate it without looking the least bit bothered by it.

My eyes widened.

Victor was extremely picky about food. He never touched leftovers, much less a steak from the night before.

I took two steps toward him before meeting his smug gaze.

Realization dawned on me, and the hope vanished from my eyes.

I finally understood.

To him, making an exception for me was enough to coax me, and I had no right to be upset anymore.

In the past, this trick had always worked. Now, I only shook my head and replied, "There's no need to."

The damage to me was already done. No matter what he did, it would never mend the wound in my heart.

Victor frowned slightly. Then, he pushed a velvet box toward me and said, "This is your Valentine's Day gift. Last night's matter ends here."

I looked at the box but didn't touch it.

Victor opened it himself, and inside was a pair of sparkling diamond earrings.

He had given me countless pieces of expensive jewelry over the past seven years, but he never understood what I truly cared about.

I merely stared at the earrings in silence and said nothing.

I could see the impatience grow in his eyes, but he softened his tone as if soothing me from a tantrum.

"That's enough, babe."

He shoved the box into my hand and said, "Take it and stop looking like you've been so wronged. The price of this is enough to make any woman smile.

"Queenie told me to get this to cheer you up, yet you're still jealous of her for no reason. So don't say that kind of thing again, okay?"

So that was it.

Even this belated attempt of his to make amends had only come because Queenie told him to.

"Victor, I'm serious," I said slowly. "We—"

I wanted to say, "We should just break up. Let me go."

But the rest of my words were cut off by his phone ringing.

"Queenie?" His tone turned gentle at once, and he shifted his attention away from me. "Alright, I'm on my way."

He hung up the phone and lingered for a moment, studying me.

Then, he said, "Be good and stop being upset. There's an urgent matter at Queenie's. I'll be right back."

As he had so many times before, he left me with empty promises and walked out.

This time, I didn't watch his back as he departed.

I took out another phone and dialed a number. The call connected quickly, and a voice I had not heard in ages came through.

"You've made up your mind?" the person asked.

"Yes," I said softly as I looked out the window. "Come take me away."

After hanging up, I changed my clothes. In the evening, I went alone to the most hidden private club in the city.

The people sent were already there waiting for me. They would help arrange everything, so I could break away from the Blackwood family cleanly.

But as soon as I stepped into the passageway meant for VIPs at the back, I saw Victor and Queenie through a half-open door.

They were sitting very closely next to each other on a velvet couch.

The table was full of Queenie's favorite dishes. Smiling, she lifted a spoonful of soup to Victor's lips.

"This is good, Vic. Try some," she said.

Victor didn't refuse as usual.

Seeing it in person hit harder than any photo. I stumbled into the door beside me, feeling as though all strength had been drained from me.

Hearing the noise, Queenie looked up and saw me standing there. She nudged Victor with a smile.

There was mockery in Queenie's expression, as if she were enjoying a show.

She was waiting for me to break down like before, which I had done many times in the past because of her.

On our dating anniversary, one phone call from her was enough for Victor to abandon me and go car racing with her.

Once, I was injured in an ambush and was lying in a hospital bed. Victor said he was going to deal with the traitor for me, but he flew to Glorian to watch a fashion show with her instead.

I had screamed at him in anger and even begged him to stay without a shred of dignity.

But he always had the same cold answer for me.

"Stop it. Queenie and I are just siblings."

Now, I took a deep breath to steady my roiling emotions, then turned to leave.

But Victor frowned and grabbed my arm.

There was a hint of displeasure in his eyes as he said, "You clearly followed me all the way here, but now you're leaving without eating something first?

"Are you throwing another fit because you misunderstood me and Queenie again?

"I've already tried to comfort you and even gave you a gift. Vivienne, don't push your luck just because I've been patient with you."

He rarely said so much to me in one breath.

It wasn't because he cared, but because he sensed that things were slipping out of his control.

But none of that mattered anymore.

"I'm just here to see someone," I said, trying my very best to keep my tone even. "Besides, we've already broken up. Whatever both of you do now has nothing to do with me."

Queenie's eyebrows rose. My reaction was clearly not what she had expected.

"Vivienne, don't say things out of spite," she said slowly as she looped her arm around Victor's flashily. "I was in a bad mood today, so I had Vic come to keep me company.

"Don't read too much into it. Although he and I are not related by blood, we really are just family."

Queenie was enjoying the privilege of a lover while hiding behind the title of family.

It was shameless, but it no longer had anything to do with me.

I didn't bother to defend myself and merely nodded. Then, I walked toward the neighboring private room I had reserved to meet my contact.

But before we could start our discussion, voices from the room next door slipped through the crack of the door.

It was Queenie's voice, full of hurt and complaint.

"Vic, why are you so bad at coaxing people now? You can't even soothe Vivienne, and now she has come all the way here to pick on me.

"You never used to be like this with me before. When I was 16 years old, you gave me a private island just to make me happy.

"On my 18th birthday, I wanted to play the piano, and you invited a world-class musician to accompany me.

"So why have your comforting skills gotten worse now?"

Every word she uttered was dripping with showy pretension.

Victor was silent for a moment, then he said petulantly, "Of course, she can't compare to you."

I felt a sharp pang of pain in my chest. Then, I dug my nails into my palms as I forced my attention back to the matter at hand.

I had devoted seven years of my life to him, only to get that one sentence in return.

I had wondered countless times before—why did the man who once cared for me in every way become so cold and distant after Queenie's return?

I understood it all now.

No matter how deeply I loved and devoted myself to him, I wasn't Queenie.

And it was time for me to quit Victor once and for all.

After that day, Victor did not come home.

It was a usual tactic of his. He would use silent treatment to wear me down with endless self-doubt and suspicion.

Then, he would show up, say a few affectionate words, and we would reconcile.

In the past, I used to give in, because I still loved him.

But now, I no longer cared.

I started packing my belongings.

His private villa was filled with various luxury items he had bought, and the only things that I truly owned were just a few changes of clothes.

It was then that I realized I had been revolving my life around Victor for far too long.

The next day, I returned to the family's headquarters and carried out the task handover.

I wanted to leave and give up all my current positions and power.

My close friend, Lynn Monroe, was in charge of the handover.

When she saw my resignation letter, she looked shocked.

Then, she laughed.

"Vivienne, you're handing over your tasks because you'll be busy preparing for your wedding, right?"

I looked at her in confusion. "What do you mean?"

She patted me happily on the shoulder and exclaimed, "Don't hide it from me! A few days ago, I heard the Underboss say he had already booked the most luxurious banquet hall. Victor's planning the grandest wedding for you.

"Congratulations, Vivienne. After all these years, your wait has finally come to an end!"

I froze, and my mind was a complete mess.

So Victor did remember the wedding I had waited seven years for.

But I didn't know if I should feel happy or sad about it.

I said nothing and merely signed all the handover documents.

The news of the wedding left me unsettled, so I invited a few of my closest friends to our usual bar that night.

As we wrapped up, I stumbled tipsily through the corridor. Suddenly, I heard a familiar voice.

From the half-open cigar room came the incredulous voice of Victor's Underboss.

He asked, "Don Blackwood, are you really going to have a wedding with Ms. Stone? What about Vivienne?

"She's been with you for seven years and done so much for you. She has also been waiting for you to marry her.

"If she finds out about this…"

Victor held a cigar between his fingers, and his voice was heavy with mixed emotions.

"I know that Vivienne has suffered a lot," he said. "But Queenie was attacked by our enemies yesterday.

"She said she was terrified and worried that she wouldn't even get to experience her dream wedding if something really happened to her.

"I cannot deny her this wish."

Victor paused, then spoke with a hint of unwavering resolve in his voice.

"Let Vivienne wait a little. We'll postpone the wedding she wants for a while longer."

I stood frozen on the spot and felt my chest tighten.

So that wedding was never meant to be mine.

To him, I would always be second to Queenie.

As I stumbled out of the bar, I ran straight into Queenie.

"Vivienne? With that look on your face, have you found out about the wedding?" she asked.

She finally revealed her malicious side and mocked me mercilessly. "Were you really expecting to be the bride? Don't make me laugh!

"Someone like you is only good enough to be a mistress, not Victor's wife."

"Yesterday, I just lied that some enemies frightened me, and I wanted a wedding with him as soon as possible. He agreed immediately," she continued. "Do you see now? As long as I ask, he'll give me anything I want.

"Pampering me has become second nature to him. What could you possibly compete with?"

My face was pale. But I forced my chin up and held back my tears.

I said, "You win. I'll tell Victor I am leaving immediately. You can have him."

Queenie sneered. "That won't do. If you left feeling all hurt, you would still be on his mind. You bitch! I didn't expect you to have such vile thoughts."

As soon as she finished speaking, she suddenly pulled out a gun from her purse and shot at a nearby car's fuel tank.

With a loud boom, the fuel tank exploded in an instant. The deafening explosion shattered the decorative wall outside the bar, sending debris and smoke swirling everywhere.

I fell to the ground as flying pieces of concrete hit me. Suddenly, she forced the gun into my hand.

The next moment, Queenie flung herself to the ground and began sobbing hysterically.

"Vivienne, please don't kill me! I won't fight you for Vic's affection anymore. Don't hurt me, please! I'm begging you!"

Victor rushed out almost instantly.

He saw me holding the gun, with the flames still burning behind me.

On the ground, Queenie trembled as she clutched her bloody arm.

Victor's expression turned dark, and he knocked the gun from my hand.

He snarled, "Vivienne, what the hell are you doing? Have you lost it? You actually tried to kill her just to compete for affection?"

"It wasn't me!" My voice trembled. I was on the verge of tears from panic. "Queenie shoved the gun into my hand. She's framing me!"

But against the backdrop of flames and blood, my defense seemed meaningless.

Queenie screamed at the top of her lungs, "I told her she could have the wedding, but she still tried to kill me! Vic, she really wants me dead!"

Victor's eyes were full of pain and disappointment as he said in a low voice, "Vivienne, I thought you would always be the one who made me feel safe. But now, I don't know how I can trust you anymore."

With that, he carried Queenie and walked away.

Shards of debris had cut several gashes into my skin, the pain sharp and searing.

But compared to the tearing, excruciating pain in my heart, it felt like nothing.

I tried to speak but only managed to squeeze out a few broken words.

"I didn't… I really didn't…"

Tears blurred my vision, and everything in my life seemed to collapse around me. It all pressed down so heavily on me that I could barely breathe.

Then, I summoned the last of my strength, staggering as I turned and walked in the opposite direction.

A cab to the airport stopped in front of me. I dragged my exhausted body in and leaned back against the seat, closing my eyes.

The driver glanced at me in the rearview mirror. Then, he asked hesitantly, "Miss, you're today's 50th lucky passenger, and you get a discount voucher for your next ride. Would you like it?"

I shook my head. My voice was hoarse but firm.

"No, thank you. I won't be returning to this city ever again."