The atmosphere in the room was thick with an ambiguous tension, yet Jaylyn inexplicably caught a hint of coldness and indifference in Haiden's words.

She raised her head and met his gaze.

The room fell deadly silent; the others seemed stunned by his remark, not daring to make a sound. Only Evie, the young woman standing beside Haiden, turned visibly pale.

In the seven years they had been together, no one knew the true depths of Jaylyn and Haiden’s private entanglements. This was the first time Haiden had ever brought such a scandalous, intimate detail out into the open.

Was he lingering on the past? Evie peeked at him nervously. Sensing her unease, Haiden gently squeezed the girl's hand.

Jaylyn took the entire exchange in stride. Her expression didn't so much as ripple.

"No need," Jaylyn said, her voice steady and clear. "If you like it that much, keep it as a collectible."

When it came to the messy ledger between her and Haiden, neither owed the other. The break was clean. Since he didn't care about saving her face, she certainly wasn't going to compromise her own dignity.

Jaylyn left the Sovereign Tower and brought her belongings back to her own apartment. The things she had left at his penthouse were just a random assortment of clothes, daily necessities, and some gifts he had bought her. Neither she nor Haiden were sentimental people; these trivial items held no special weight in her heart.

She had just finished unpacking and was changing into a fresh outfit for an evening gathering when her Aunt Annelise came into the room. Annelise frowned at her and asked flatly, "Have you cut ties with Haiden completely?"

"Yes," Jaylyn replied, unfazed.

"Good. You're not getting any younger. You've passed the age of playing around, and a man like Haiden was never someone you could afford to provoke." Annelise let out a breath of relief, her tone turning earnest. "Jaylyn, don't forget the trust fund. Do you want the Brennan family to remain in ruins forever?"

The Brennan family had fallen from grace seven years ago—bankruptcy, severe illness, and a domino effect of ruin. The only real asset Jaylyn possessed now was a trust fund, originally intended as a dowry from her late mother.

The condition for its activation? She had to get married.

"Men are unreliable. You know your own situation better than anyone. Finding someone stable to marry and propping up the Brennan family isn't a bad thing..."

Jaylyn remained silent.

She had heard these words countless times over the years. Before she graduated college, she had nothing to her name but a pretty face. Then she met Haiden. She had worked herself to the bone, fighting ruthlessly to stand as an equal by his side.

Outsiders called her the most vicious attack dog at Holland Enterprises. She was highly capable, unapologetic, and known for returning favors tooth for nail. Her specialty was relentless, aggressive persistence. Words like "gentle," "graceful," or "submissive" had absolutely nothing to do with her.

Yet, despite fighting her way through the mud for seven years, all she had earned was Haiden's cold finality.

She remembered the day she had unabashedly brought up marriage. The man had merely looked at her with chilling detachment.

"Marriage?" he had scoffed softly. "What exactly is our relationship? Don't cross the line, Jaylyn."

He was right. Throughout their seven years, she was his secretary, his bedmate, his lover. Everything but his actual girlfriend.

After a long silence, Jaylyn finally spoke, her voice calm and resolute. "I know, Aunt Annelise."

Satisfied, Annelise handed her a sleek business card. "Take some time to meet him. Julian Kensington. I don't want to rush you, but if it's a good fit, give it a try."

Jaylyn didn't refuse. She took the card.

She was never one to turn back until she hit a brick wall. But now that the wall had been hit, she was pragmatic enough to accept reality and move on.

Later that evening, her phone rang. It was her friend Cora,Chloe and Paige, calling to say she had booked a table for a celebratory dinner to welcome Jaylyn back to the single life.

An hour later, Jaylyn found herself seated in a warmly lit, upscale bistro downtown. The soft hum of jazz and the crisp clink of champagne glasses offered a refreshing contrast to the suffocating tension she had left behind at the Sovereign Tower. They had spent the first portion of the evening toasting to her newfound freedom, the conversation light and unburdened.

But the celebratory mood didn't last. Halfway through their dinner, Cora suddenly stopped mid-sentence. She glanced toward the other side of the restaurant, hesitating for a moment before speaking. "Jaylyn, isn't that Haiden? Why is that scumbag eating alone?"

Jaylyn calmly lifted her gaze. It was indeed Haiden.

He seemed to have had a bit too much to drink. His dark, heavy eyes were half-closed as he leaned back against the leather booth. Yet, even in his slight inebriation, there was no trace of dishevelment; he still maintained that same cold, untouchable, and impeccably handsome aura.

Jaylyn said nothing, her expression completely unreadable.

Sitting across from her, Cora felt a surge of anger just looking at him. She let out a cold scoff and cursed, "Doesn't this jerk have a new favorite? Where is she? I heard his mother set them up—an Ivy League graduate, sweet-tempered, comes from a modest background but has some serious family connections. Haiden treats her like an absolute treasure. That snob... Jaylyn, do you want me to go over there and teach him a lesson?"

Jaylyn’s mind wandered for a fleeting moment as she listened.

Highly educated, sweet-tempered, solid background.

She was, indeed, very different from Jaylyn.

During the seven years she had been by Haiden's side, Jaylyn had always been ruthlessly pragmatic. To survive, she had learned to be thick-skinned, doing whatever it took to get things done—whether it was tearing down her boundaries to negotiate business deals, or catering to him in bed. Pride and dignity were luxuries she simply hadn't had the right to demand.

But that was in the past.

"There's no need. We had an amicable breakup," Jaylyn replied, her voice cool and entirely unbothered. Feeling a sudden wave of boredom toward the whole situation, she stood up gracefully. "Keep eating. I'm going to the restroom."

Just as she was about to head back to her table, a strong scent of alcohol wafted from around the corner, and a tall shadow suddenly loomed over her.

Before Jaylyn could even react, Haiden’s kiss crashed down on her.

It was urgent and ferocious. He pinned her forcefully against the cold marble wall, biting her lip and kissing her with a punishing intensity, as if he wanted to devour her whole.

After a brief moment of shock, a wave of fury washed over Jaylyn. However, there was no panic, no trembling.

With absolute composure, she pressed her hands against his chest and shoved him away with all her might. In the next smooth motion, she raised her hand and landed a sharp, echoing slap across his face.

Her voice was ice-cold and impeccably steady: "Mr. Holland, you have the wrong person. I am not Evie."

In the dim light of the hallway, the stinging pain on his cheek finally snapped Haiden out of his drunken haze.

He frowned deeply, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. Leaning back against the wall, he looked at her with an impatient scowl. "Why are you here?"

"None of your business," Jaylyn replied, her tone freezing over.

Just as the words left her mouth, Evie appeared from down the hall.

Catching sight of Jaylyn, a brief flicker of awkwardness crossed Evie's sweet face. But she quickly recovered, walking over to wrap her arm intimately around Haiden’s. She smiled—a perfectly obedient and sweet smile that clearly carried the intention of marking her territory.

"Miss Brennan," Evie said softly. "What a coincidence."

Jaylyn didn't spare them an ounce of unnecessary emotion. She smoothed her dress and explained with polite indifference, "Mr. Holland mistook me for someone else. Miss Evie, I have things to do. I won't interrupt you two."

Without a second glance at the man she had spent seven years with, Jaylyn turned on her heel and walked away, her back straight and her steps unwavering.

The moment she left, Evie nervously stared at the red mark on Haiden’s handsome face.

"Haiden, what happened to your face?"

Haiden lowered his eyes, taking a drag of his cigarette before replying with a flat, indifferent tone. "Got scratched by a cat."

Evie bit her lip, her eyes instantly rimmed with red.