At City Hall, it only took a few questions before the staff slid two divorce decrees across the counter.

Winter stared at the covers, her vision blurring.

Something she had held onto for ten years had popped like a soap bubble in less than one.

The marriage that felt like a dream was officially over.

Cassian was moved by the tears in her eyes so much that he couldn’t bring himself to meet her gaze. He pulled her into a gentle hug.

"Winter, once the company gets through this rough patch, we’ll definitely remarry. Just wait for me, all right?"

For the first time, she didn’t give him the answer he wanted. She buried her face in his shoulder and whispered, "No."

But his phone rang before he could hear her.

He glanced at the screen and quickly declined the call—but not before she caught the caller’s name. My Princess.

A prince belonged with a princess. She… she was just a Cinderella without the magic.

She turned her face away to force her tears back and lift her head to calm the storm within.

Cassian slipped on the suit jacket draped over his arm and ordered a taxi for her.

"Go home and wait for me. I have to run by the office."

After saying that, he gave the driver a string of instructions to drop her off close to the entrance so she wouldn’t have to walk far and to drive slowly so she wouldn’t get carsick.

He spent ten whole minutes making sure every detail was right before getting into his own car.

Winter kept her head bowed, catching her tears before they could fall. Her throat ached as she swallowed them down before she spoke to the driver.

"Let’s go."

She didn’t care where Cassian was going… until the roads began to overlap.

At a fork, she found herself quietly telling the driver to follow him.

She wasn’t prepared for where he stopped. City Hall, again.

From the backseat of the taxi, she watched Cassian stride up to Yvonne with arms wide open. Then, he pulled her close in a full embrace.

The wedding ring that had once matched Winter’s was gone from his hand. A bright red tie replaced the one he had worn earlier, all to make himself completely belong to Yvonne Harris alone.

She had known he had divorced her to marry Yvonne, but she hadn’t expected it to be the same day.

The ink on the divorce papers had barely dried and the next moment, he and Yvonne had already obtained their marriage certificate.

Seriously, Cassian couldn’t wait even one day?

The clerk’s office had been cleared just for them. In less than five minutes, they walked out holding a fresh marriage certificate.

Cassian took out a bouquet as if from thin air, then bent and scooped Yvonne up in his arms, carrying her bridal-style to the car.

This was how he loved someone. It was the first time Winter had ever seen that light in his eyes.

Her fingers tightened around the divorce certificate in her lap as she rolled up the window.

"Drive."

As the car pulled away from City Hall, she kept her gaze fixed on the blur outside, her eyes heavy with tears that refused to fall.

She didn’t go home. Instead, she headed straight to the office.

The moment she stepped inside, Yohan, one of the senior staff, spotted her and came over with a grin.

"Winter, I thought you were off today. What brings you in?"

Winter offered a faint smile. "I’m here to hand in my resignation."

Since Cassian's divorce with Yvonne, she had come back to work, though her role as Yohan’s assistant was more honorary than anything, so there was never much for her to do.

His smile faltered upon hearing her reason. "Why resign? Does Cassian know about this? He’s not going to agree to this."

Her eyes welled up. She first slid a signed contract and uploaded the digital version to the company system.

"You’re my direct supervisor. I only need your approval."

Yohan could clearly guess she knew something, but was not daring to ask.

He tried to talk her out of it, but she didn’t budge. In the end, he pulled out his phone and dialed Cassian.

The line rang and rang. When Cassian finally picked up, all he said was, "Whatever it is, you decide."

His expression turned awkward as he hung up.

A dull ache spread in Winter’s chest, but she forced a graceful smile.

"Don’t feel bad. I already talked about this to him and he’s fine with it. I just need a break. Planning to take a trip, clear my head. I’ll be back before you know it."

Yohan felt slightly relieved upon hearing she was planning to take a trip.

He told himself that only a handful of people knew the truth and there was no way it could have reached her ears. So, he didn't even think twice before agreeing.

She said her goodbyes, but still didn’t want to return home.

On the way home, she walked the entire way, as if she wanted to take in the entire city where the man he loved was.

She ended up by the river. Sitting down on a bench, she realized she had been here before—with him.

Back then, the land across the water was nothing but weeds and dirt, with rumors that luxury villas would be built on it.

Back then, Cassian had been wearing an old, faded shirt, picking at a flimsy takeout box. When she had taken his hand, the tips of his ears went red and he had covered his shyness with words.

"When this place is developed, I’m buying you the sunniest villa there."

At that time, she had just laughed and called him a liar.

Now, the promise had come true, just not for her.

The villa where Yvonne lived was exactly as he had described, flooded with golden light.

A breeze brushed her cheek, snapping her out of the memory.

She looked down and found her face was already wet with tears.

Her chest ached. She pressed a hand to it, head bowed, breathing heavily. But the tears kept coming, harder now.

Her phone suddenly rang. She swallowed the sobs threatening to escape and answered.

"Hello?"

Her voice was thick, choked with emotion and Cassian froze for a moment.

He strode out of the room and found a quiet place. "What's wrong?"

Winter blinked away the heat in her eyes and forced a few deep breaths. "Nothing. Just yawned. Do you need anything?"

Relieved she wasn’t hurt, he got straight to the point. "I’ll send you an address. Can you bring some things over for me?"

At this point, she had had enough of being at his beck and call, so she immediately refused.

"Why not ask your assistant? I—"

But before she could finish, he had already hung up. A moment later, a text came through with the address and the list.

With that came one final line. [Winter, stop messing around. This is really urgent.]

She didn’t answer. Instead, she forwarded the message to his assistant.

She wanted him to understand that she wasn’t going to say yes every time.

Ten minutes later, her phone rang. It was the assistant.

"Winter, I’m so sorry… my grandma’s sick. I’m back in my hometown for two weeks. I can’t help you since I'm not in Melbourne."

The girl sounded panicked, like she was already halfway to packing her desk.

Winter caught the fear in her voice and sighed, "Okay, take good care of your grandmother. Don't worry about it."

She ended up buying the things herself and taking them to the address of Cassian’s banquet.

She knocked several times, but no one answered. With no other option, she handed the bag to the security guard and asked him to pass it along. He just waved her inside, telling her to deliver it herself.

Left with no choice once again, she pushed open the door.

As soon as the door opened, she stepped into a sudden hush. Then came the whispers.

"Who’s that? Looks like she’s wearing rags."

"Even my tablecloth is better quality than that. Guess we’re getting a little variety in the entertainment tonight."

"I’ve seen her before. Isn’t she the mistress of Yvonne’s ex-husband?"

"Huh. If that’s the mistress standard these days, charity work would be a better use of time."

Winter barely flinched. Years of standing beside Cassian in business had made her immune to insults.

But when she heard them call her a mistress, something in her chest twisted.

Two days ago, she would have snapped back—she was his wife, not some other woman. But today… she wasn’t sure what she was anymore.

Not a mistress, but not a real wife either, because Cassian had never loved her.

She weaved her way awkwardly through the crowd until she spotted him near a sofa.

A glass of wine in his hand, he stood facing Yvonne, who was smiling brightly at him. Together, they looked like the perfect pair, wrapped in their own little world.

Her grip on the paper bag tightened as she stepped forward.

"Cassian, here’s what you wanted."

He glanced at her clothes and frowned.

"Why didn’t you call me? Why just walk in like this?"

His eyes and voice dripped with obvious contempt and in that instant, Winter felt the sting of humiliation.

She had brushed off every cold remark and cutting comment from the crowd earlier, but one sentence from him had knocked down the walls she had built around herself.

Suddenly, she felt ridiculous for even bothering to bring him painkillers.

She tossed the paper bag onto the sofa, jaw tight and met his gaze without flinching.

"I called, but you didn’t answer. Transfer me the money for the meds. Anything else? If not, I’m leaving."

Before he could say a word, she stepped back and turned to go—only to hear someone call her name.

"Don’t take off so fast, Winter. Stick around for a bit."

Winter paused mid-step but didn’t turn around.

"I’m not sure my ex-husband’s ex-wife and me qualify as friends who hang out together."

The words ex-husband that came out of Winter's mouth made Cassian’s hand falter, a knot tightening in his chest.

She wasn’t wrong, but he told himself it was nothing more than the leftover pull of old habits.

He let out a quiet sigh, told Yvonne to drop it, then stepped forward and caught Winter’s hand.

"Winter, Yvonne and I just bumped into each other. Don’t read too much into it. You said you wanted to be friends with her. Well, you’ve met now, so why not stay for a little while?"

His tone was light, almost coaxing, but his grip left no room for her to say no.

When Winter finally turned to look at him, it struck her how much he had changed.

The man who once had that roguish grin, one hand on a cigarette and the other pulling her out of trouble—that man was gone.

In his place was someone polished and composed, the kind of man who fit seamlessly into the city’s upper circles.

And her, in her cheap clothes, like dirt on his tailored suit.

She should have realized long ago that they were living in different worlds now.

Her eyes reddened as she looked straight at him. "Do you really want me to stay and sit with you?"

The intensity in her voice caught Cassian off guard. Before he could answer, she pressed again, "Do you really want me to sit there with them?"

His fingers tightened around hers. Without thinking, he reached up to brush away her tears.

"It’s just conversation. Think of it as meeting someone new."

She turned her face away, giving a flat, "Fine."

Without another glance at him, she walked over and sank into the sofa.

In her heart, she swore this would be the last time. After tonight, whatever debt she owed him for saving her life would be paid in full—and erased from her memory.

Cassian stared at his own hand hanging awkwardly in the air, a strange ache twisting in his chest.

Yvonne caught the moment. A glint of something sharp flickered in her eyes.

She called over a few more friends to the private lounge, then slid into the space beside Winter. Cassian took the other side.

"Let’s make it interesting. Spin the bottle—whoever it lands on either removes a piece of clothing or picks someone else to take a drink for them. If that person refuses to drink, they get a dare instead."

No one protested.

Winter silently encouraged herself. Then she felt Cassian’s hand pat her shoulder quickly to give her a flicker of courage.

After a few spins, the bottle still hadn’t landed on her and she allowed herself to relax. Then it stopped, pointing at Yvonne.

Yvonne leaned over and rested a hand on her shoulder. Cassian wordlessly lifted his glass, offering to drink for her.

Cheers exploded around the table. Winter’s stomach knotted.

The next spin landed on her. The noise around her shifted to taunting voices.

She shut her eyes, ready to say she would drink, but the glass was snatched up before she could touch it. Cassian started to raise it to his lips—until someone cut him off.

"Not how the game works, man. You’ve got to choose one person to drink for."

"Perfect chance—Yvonne or her. Choose."

The room went still. Winter’s nails bit into her palms under the table. She wished him to pick her. After all, he was the only person here she even knew.

But as her eyes met him nervously, he spoke.

"Yvonne."

The moment that one name was spoken, the crowd erupted, shouting so loudly that Winter’s head began to pound.

She turned to Cassian, her eyes dark with disbelief. Her breathing hitched, her jaw trembling as she fought to keep the tears from spilling.

Yvonne was dressed sharply in a tailored women’s suit with a light jacket, while all she had was a single, cheap dress.

Cassian didn't dare to meet her gaze—he kept his head lowered, silent.

There was no time for her to ask why. The crowd’s relentless egging on made her hands clumsy and her thoughts scatter.

She forced a smile, offering awkward apologies, until finally she bargained her way out of stripping by agreeing to down three shots of vodka.

But it didn’t end there. Somehow, it was always her turn again.

The first three shots, then another three...

She lost count of how many she had had. Her stomach burned, her head spun and eventually she slumped over the table.

When her turn came around yet again, she lifted her bleary eyes and reached for the glass, but Cassian’s hand closed firmly around her arm.

"That’s enough."