"Why didn't you make a scene downstairs just now?" Wayne asked in a scrutinizing tone.

I met his eyes unflinchingly and said in a flat voice, "Haven't you always complained that I had a bad temper and told me to be more generous? I gave Ingrid both the bracelet and the necklace. Isn't this the outcome you wanted?"

A complicated emotion flashed through Wayne's eyes, and he released my chin. Then, he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me into his embrace.

He carried a faint scent of tobacco mixed with Ingrid's perfume. The combination made my stomach churn.

Wayne lowered his head. As he spoke, his lips brushed against my ear.

He said, "Hillary, I know you feel aggrieved today. Ingie's sister was left disabled after she saved my life back then. So, I have to take care of Ingie.

“As long as you're obedient and stay in line, there will always be a place for you in my home. You'll still be the woman who has stayed by my side the longest."

He was making me a promise. However, he was offering it with the air of someone bestowing a favor. In his mind, he thought I would be grateful for those words.

A rapid knock sounded at the door.

Ingrid's delicate voice came through the door. "Wayne, my chest suddenly hurts so much. Can you come keep me company?"

The arm around my waist loosened instantly. Without the slightest hesitation, Wayne turned and headed for the door.

When he was about to step out, he paused and looked back at me. "There's a charity gala tomorrow night. I'm taking Ingie with me. She just came back and doesn't have a suitable gown. Have the maids take that Stargazer couture dress from your wardrobe and alter it to fit her tomorrow."

I stared at him in disbelief.

The Stargazer gown had been custom-made for me by a top Fairen designer five years ago when we had officially confirmed our relationship. The hem was adorned with 999 diamonds.

That dress was a priceless possession that I treasured. Under normal circumstances, I didn't even allow the maids to touch it. Once, a newly hired maid had secretly tried it on. When I found out, I immediately drove her out of Saphira.

At that time, Wayne had praised me. He approved of my actions and said that no one was allowed to touch what belonged to me.

Now, he was asking me to give that dress to Ingrid.

My fingers dug deeply into my palms, and I nearly drew blood with my nails.

Looking at the matter-of-fact expression on Wayne's face, I nodded gingerly and said, "Okay. I'll have someone send it over tomorrow."

Wayne gave me one long look before pushing the door open and leaving. I heard his gentle voice, drifting in from the hallway as he comforted Ingrid. Next came the sound of a door closing in the room next door.

I turned and walked to my desk. I pulled open a drawer and took out a desk calendar. Picking up a red marker, I drew a heavy X over today's date.

Two days remained before Micah came to take me home.

I took off the champagne-stained gown and walked into the bathroom. Warm water flowed over my body. I looked at my pale face in the mirror.

Seven years ago, Wayne pulled me away from the scene of a gruesome car crash. He gave me a second chance at life.

Over the past seven years, I took knives for him, handled his dirty secrets, and managed the Seyfried household for him. I had long stopped owing him anything after all that I had done.

The next morning, I had a maid deliver the Stargazer couture gown to Ingrid's room following Wayne's instructions.

Ingrid deliberately left the door open. As I passed through the hallway, I saw her twirling in front of a mirror while wearing the dress that didn't fit her at all.

She picked up a pair of scissors. Without hesitation, she cut off the most intricate diamond-studded tulle panel from the hem.

"This design is way too old-fashioned. It'll look better if it's shorter," Ingrid complained to the maid standing nearby.

The maid cautiously glanced at me as I stood outside the door and didn't dare respond.

I didn't stop. Instead, I walked straight to the kitchen.

Wayne had drunk a lot last night. He suffered from a serious stomach condition. Every time he had a hangover, he needed to drink a bowl of the bone broth I made to soothe his stomach.

For the past seven years, I had prepared that broth dutifully for him. Now, I silently stood in front of the stove and watched the broth simmer in the pot.

This would be the last time I made this for him.

I poured the broth into an insulated container and placed it on a tray. Then, I headed toward Wayne's study.

The door to the study was slightly ajar, and voices drifted out from inside. Wayne was talking with his childhood friend, Jimmy Law.

Just as I was about to knock, Jimmy's voice came through the door clearly.

He said disapprovingly, "Wayne, don't you think you've gone too far this time? You took back the bracelet and gave away the necklace. You even let Ingrid wear the Stargazer gown. Hillary has been with you for seven years. She'd even risk her life for you. Are you really trying to drive her away?"

My hand froze before it reached the door.

Wayne's indifferent voice followed immediately after. "Where could she possibly go? She's an orphan who can't even remember her own past. Other than being with me, she has nowhere to go. I've spoiled her too much over these seven years. Her temper has only gotten worse.

"Now that Ingie is back, she needs to learn how to back down. I'm stripping away that arrogance of hers so she'll understand who calls the shots around here. Once she knows her place and learns to behave, I'll still have a room for her in the house and make sure she's provided for."

Jimmy sighed and asked, "Aren't you afraid she'll give up on you after you humiliated her so badly?"

Wayne laughed derisively, not taking Jimmy seriously at all. "Give up on me? Hillary's greatest talent in this life is clinging to me like a stubborn vine. She can't live without me."

The tray tilted slightly in my hands. A few drops of scalding broth splashed onto the back of my hand. Red welts appeared instantly.

However, I felt no pain at all.

I looked at the half-open door with intricate wooden carvings for a moment before setting the tray down on the cabinet to the side. Then, I picked up the insulated container and walked to the end of the hallway.

There stood an extremely rare orchid. Tilting my wrist, I poured the bone broth, which I had simmered meticulously for three hours, into the soil of the flowerpot.

Just then, Ingrid walked over wearing the gown she had butchered with her scissors. When she saw me pour out the broth, she curled her lips into a smug smile.

She said, "Wayne just told me that the sunlight shines in better in the master bedroom. It'll help with my recovery. He said I can move in there tonight. I think you should pack up your things and make room."

I had lived in the master bedroom for the past five years. Every corner of it carried traces of the life Wayne and I had shared.

Looking at Ingrid's triumphant expression, I nodded. "Okay. I'll go pack right now."

And so, I walked into the master bedroom. I didn't take any jewelry, nor did I take any of the designer handbags Wayne had bought for me. I only took a black travel bag and packed a few sets of basic clothing, along with my identification documents.

My phone vibrated, and a message from Micah popped up.

He texted, "I've begun the process of erasing all traces of 'Hillary Waldram.' There won't be any traces of your old identity left."

I zipped up the travel bag, picked it up, and walked out of the master bedroom.

After that, I moved into the most remote guest room in the manor. It was normally used as a storeroom for keeping miscellaneous items, so the air in here carried a faint musty smell.

I placed the travel bag on the single bed in the corner and didn't touch anything else in the room.

Only 12 hours remained before I left.

By evening, snow had begun to fall from the sky. After finishing a meeting with the senior executives of Seyfried Group, Wayne returned to the manor carrying the chill of the winter air with him.

The moment he stepped into the hall, he swept his gaze across the crowd and immediately started frowning.

One of the maids reported nervously, "Mr. Seyfried, Ms. Waldram moved into the storage room in the north wing today."

Wayne's expression darkened right away. He strode down the hallway and kicked the storage room door open.

The wooden door slammed against the wall with a loud bang.

I was sitting on the edge of the bed watching the snow. Hearing the noise, I turned to look at him.

Wayne strode up to me. His gaze swept across the crude room before settling on the wrinkled and flat black travel bag beside my bed.

He demanded, "What kind of act are you putting on now? Ingie just said she wanted the master bedroom. Who told you to move into a place like this? Are you deliberately trying to make me look bad?"

I stood up and met his gaze. "All the other guest rooms have Ms. Bacon's luggage in them. This was the only empty room. It doesn't matter to me where I stay."

My calm attitude only infuriated Wayne further.

He suddenly grabbed my wrist with tremendous force, revealing a vicious scar more than five inches long on my forearm.

I had gotten that scar three years ago while shielding him from an assassination attempt by a business rival. Back then, a military bayonet had pierced straight through my forearm. I had nearly died from blood loss in the operating room.

When Wayne saw the scar, there wasn't the slightest trace of sympathy in his eyes. Instead, he looked irritated at the sight of it.

He sneered, "Do you keep this scar exposed every day to remind me that I owe you one for saving my life? Ingie is timid. After she saw the scar on your arm, she was so frightened that she couldn't even eat her lunch!

"Starting tomorrow, you'll wear long sleeves whenever you're in the manor. If you can't do that, then move into the guardhouse outside the gates for a few days. Stop wandering around in front of Ingie!"

Wayne had used the cruelest words he could conjure in an attempt to hurt me, trying to make me react the way I used to—heartbroken and desperate to defend myself.

He was waiting for me to break down. He was expecting me to lower my head and admit that it was all my fault.

But as I looked at his face that was somewhat contorted with anger, I felt nothing at all.

I didn't argue, nor did I cry. I shook free from his grip and turned to pick up my black bag.

"Okay. I'll move into the guardhouse right now," I said without emotion.

Carrying my bag, I walked past him and headed straight for the door.

Wayne was absolutely taken aback. He hadn't gotten the reaction he expected. In his eyes, my compliance had become an outrageously arrogant form of defiance instead.

He strode after me and snatched my bag from me. Then, he forcefully yanked open the manor's front door.

A flurry of icy wind and snow rushed into the hallway.

Wayne hurled my bag into the snow and pointed outside. "Since you love putting on this act so much, then get out of here! And don't ever come back! I'd like to see how long an orphan with nowhere to go can survive in Saphira's snowstorm without me!"

I stood at the doorway wearing nothing but a thin cashmere sweater. The biting and cold wind cut across my face. I looked at my bag lying outside in the snow.

Without the slightest hesitation, I stepped through the door. I walked into the blizzard without looking back.

Wayne stood inside, watching my back intently. Then, he slammed the door shut.

The heavy bang echoed through the snowy night.

I walked into the snow and bent down. I picked up the bag and brushed the snow off its surface.

My phone screen lit up as a call from Micah came in.

He said over the phone, "Hillary, our convoy has entered Saphira. I'll be there to take you home in half an hour."

The snowfall intensified. The fierce wind carried icy flakes that struck my face relentlessly.

I was wearing only a thin cashmere sweater. The chilling cold seeped through the fabric and into my very bones.

Before long, my legs became numb from the freezing temperature. Every step felt stiff and painfully heavy.

I didn't stop walking, nor did I look back at the tightly shut iron gates of Seyfried Manor.