Ten days before the wedding, my fiancée spent over a hundred million to buy Marcus Collins a luxury yacht. So, I silently threw away the matching rings I had once planned to give her.

Seven days before the wedding, she spent 50 million dollars to celebrate Marcus' birthday. Thus, I set fire to the photo album that held every memory of our past.

Three days before the wedding, she wore the ring I had used to propose, and she kissed him deeply by the sea.

Today, I finally chose to step aside.

I notified our families and friends that the wedding was canceled, and I personally returned the engagement tokens to the Yardley family.

Lowering my head, I said softly, "Mr. and Mrs. Yardley…I've always known I'm not worthy of Claire. I hope you can understand."

When he heard my words, Claire Yardley's father, Preston Yardley, cast me a look filled with thinly veiled disdain and said casually, "Shayne, everything was going fine. Why are you calling off the engagement so suddenly?"

Her mother, Miriam Lambert, quickly picked up the conversation, her tone carrying a trace of feigned reproach. "The wedding is just days away. Have you thought about how it'll make us look?"

I lowered my gaze and gently placed the engagement token on the coffee table.

It was a malachite pendant carved with an ancestral dragon motif, its surface glowing softly under the lights.

The matching phoenix pendant was still in Claire's possession.

At last, it could be returned to the Yardley family, reuniting again as a pair.

"Mr. and Mrs. Yardley, please don't worry," I said calmly. "I'll tell everyone that this was my decision. It won't affect Yanko's reputation or the Yardley family's."

The moment I finished speaking, the smiles on their faces were impossible to hide.

Back then, if not for Claire's grandfather, Mr. Yardley's insistence on arranging this marriage, they would never have agreed to let Claire marry me.

In every respect, I was merely adequate. In their eyes, that meant I was not worthy of her.

Since I had taken the initiative to withdraw, they were more than happy to accept it. It saved them from having to play the villain themselves.

They did not even bother asking for a reason. The wedding was canceled swiftly and cleanly.

By the time I returned home, night had already fallen.

Claire still had not returned.

It was not until close to midnight that I finally saw her.

When she approached me, a faint scent of alcohol clung to her. It was a scent I did not like.

She had just returned from her trip with Marcus.

Still believing I knew nothing, she casually pressed a watch into my hand.

"I picked this up for you on my business trip," she said lightly. "Happy wedding. Do you like it?"

The watch looked brand new, but on the back of the dial were two thin scratches: a defect.

She smiled brightly, watching my eyes, waiting for my reaction.

If this were the past, I would have been delighted, carefully storing it away as something precious.

However, not long ago, I had already seen this watch on Marcus' social media post.

The caption had been a complaint.

[Only wore this trash watch for two days before noticing the scratches. What bad luck.]

The photo showed the dial clearly. And on the back were those same two scratches.

It was obvious.

This had never been meant for me.

I rubbed my thumb over the scratched surface, feeling the faint unevenness beneath my skin.

"Thank you," I heard myself say. "I like the design."

Satisfied, Claire reached out to adjust the strap for me.

Her familiar perfume drifted closer. It was the same woody scent that often lingered in Marcus' car.

Calmly, as I pulled my hand away, I said, "But next time, don't give me something someone else has already worn."

The smile on her face froze. A flash of shock crossed her eyes.

"What do you mean by that?"

My expression did not change.

"Wasn't I clear enough? You gave it to Marcus first. Then, you gave it to me. That's not appropriate."

Her patience snapped, irritation surfacing.

"I only gave it to him as a thank-you," she said sharply. "Do you really have to be this petty?"

I smiled, but it did not reach my eyes.

I replied, "Right. You thank him with something new and pass the defective one to me."

Her face darkened instantly.

"Why are you making a fuss about this? I can't exactly give him something worthless."

"So, it's fine to give the worthless one to me?" I asked quietly.

She faltered, then anger bled into her voice. "Shayne Taylor, do you really have to pick a fight with me right before our wedding?"

"You really think I wouldn't dare call off the engagement? If you keep talking like this, then maybe we shouldn't get married at all!"

Just like the countless arguments we had in the past, Claire used the wedding as a threat.

In the past, I was always afraid...afraid she would actually go through with it.

This time, there was no need. I had already ended the engagement.

I was just about to tell her when she turned and walked straight back into the bedroom.

The door slammed shut.

Once again, I was the only one left in the spacious living room.

Every time in the past, this was how it played out. Every time, I would follow her, lowering myself, apologizing softly.

However, this time, there was no need. I was tired of it all.

Early the next morning, I saw Claire already dressed and ready, standing before the mirror as she put on her earrings.

When she noticed me, she glanced at me briefly.

"Marcus and I are going for a meal later. He'll be here soon," she said casually.

"You can handle the wedding arrangements."

I laughed coldly inside.

So, she still remembered there was a wedding coming up, yet she could calmly go out for a meal with another man.

What she did not know was that I had already informed the venue that the wedding was canceled.

Judging by her attitude, she had not asked about the wedding even once.

If she had made a single phone call, she would have known that the wedding had been called off.

Just as I was about to speak, the uninvited guest arrived.

"Claire, are you ready? I've parked downstairs."

Marcus had appeared without my noticing.

"I'll grab my bag. Give me a minute, and make yourself comfortable," she said, turning back toward the bedroom.

She left.

Only Marcus and I remained in the living room.

He looked me up and down, his gaze stopping on my wrist. Then, he let out a soft laugh.

"So that's why Claire still kept that watch. She gave it to you then, Shayne."

He stepped closer and spoke to me in a low voice, saying, "I actually quite like the design."

Then, his tone shifted.

"But it's a shame," he said lightly.

"It's a defective piece, unworthy of my status."

The night before, I had been too exhausted.

After returning to my room, I fell asleep immediately without even taking the watch off.

I had not expected it would become another chance for him to humiliate me.

I removed the watch and placed it on the coffee table.

Just then, Claire came out.

Bag in hand, she called out to Marcus and was prepared to leave.

Suddenly, she noticed the watch on the table, and her expression changed.

Sensing the tension between us, she shot me a sharp glare.

She said coldly, "I'm warning you; behave yourself."

With that, she linked arms with Marcus and left.

After she was gone, I went straight to the company and tendered my resignation.

No one at the company had the faintest clue about my relationship with Claire.

We had been together for five years, yet she had always refused to make it public.

She said the company strictly forbade office relationships, and she deliberately kept her distance from me at work.

However, with Marcus, she showed no such restraint.

The two of them were always together. They were even caught by colleagues having dinner together outside more than once.

Over time, rumors spread through the company. They said Marcus was Claire's younger boyfriend.

There was no way she was unaware of the gossip. She simply had no intention of clarifying it.

HR processed my resignation quickly.

As I packed up my desk, whispers drifted into my ears.

"Why did Shayne suddenly resign?" a colleague asked.

"What else could it be? Marcus climbed into Ms. Yardley's good graces. He probably got jealous and couldn't take it," another colleague answered.

That voice belonged to a team lead from another department, someone who had never liked me.

The team lead continued, saying, "Didn't he use to bring Ms. Yardley breakfast every day? Trying so hard for so long and still getting nowhere... He must be furious. Leaving is the right choice. Otherwise, he'd have to watch them being all lovey-dovey every day. Who could stand that?"

I said nothing.

After packing my things, I left without a word.

What he said was not wrong.

Back when I first joined the company, Claire and I had already been together for two years.

I knew she had a weak stomach and often skipped breakfast. Worried about her, I went online to learn how to prepare nutritious morning meals.

Every day, I woke up an hour early, made breakfast, and brought it to her.

However, she was afraid people at the company would discover our relationship. So, she treated me with deliberate coldness every time.

To others, it looked like I was throwing myself at her, reaching for an impossible pipe dream.

I had brought this up with Claire before.

Back then, Claire had only said, "It's such a small thing. Don't be so sensitive. If you're innocent, then you have nothing to fear. Just ignore that kind of pointless gossip."

At the time, I understood her need for strictness as a CEO.

After that, I never mentioned it again.

However, when similar rumors began to spread about her and Marcus, Marcus cried as he complained to her.

She immediately found an excuse to fire the employee who had been spreading the rumors, using that as a warning to the others.

From that moment onward, no one dared to gossip about Marcus again. They only said things he liked to hear.

After packing up, I went home.

I sat on the sofa in a daze, staring out the window.

Once again, it was past midnight when she returned.

Marcus followed behind her.

The moment he entered, he glanced at me. A provocative smile curled at the corner of his lips.

He deliberately leaned close to Claire and whispered something in her ear, making her laugh softly.

That laughter cut into my heart like a knife.

When Claire noticed me, her tone turned cold.

She said, "The company was busy, so things got delayed. Marcus is staying over tonight. He'll take your room. You'll sleep in the living room."

Marcus added fuel to the fire, feigning innocence as he said, "Claire, am I bothering you two? If so, I can leave."

As he spoke, his eyes were fixed provocatively on me.

"No need," Claire said, reaching out to stop him.

"Sit for a bit. I'll get you some water."

I could not be bothered to respond to his provocation and turned toward the bedroom.

As I passed him, our shoulders barely brushed.

Marcus suddenly and exaggeratedly leaned backward and fell to the floor.

He crashed into the coffee table.

A glass fell and shattered, and his hand slammed straight into the shards.

"Argh!" he cried out.

He quickly added with a trembling voice, saying, "Shayne, if you don't want me to stay, I can leave right now. Please don't hit me."

Claire rushed over and shoved me hard, her voice sharp with fury.

"Are you insane? You'd hit someone right in front of me?"

I staggered back several steps, staring at her in disbelief.

"You believe him? He fell on his own..."

"I only saw you make a move!" she said as she cut me off coldly.

She stood in front of Marcus, her gaze icy as she glared at me. "When did you become this unreasonable?"

Behind her, Marcus wore a smug smile, deliberately raising his bloodied hand.

I had no way to defend myself.

"I didn't touch him," I said hoarsely.

"That's enough!" Claire cut me off, her voice heavy with disappointment.

"I thought you were just petty. I didn't expect you'd actually dare to hit someone in front of me. Apologize to Marcus. Now."

"Why should I?" I forced myself to suppress the anger burning in my chest as I spoke calmly. "He fell on his own. I didn't touch him."

Marcus continued to sow discord between us, saying, "Claire, don't argue because of me. It's my fault. I'll apologize to Shayne."

He bent over and bowed deeply to me.

Seeing his aggrieved, considerate act only further fueled Claire's anger.

To vent it for him, she raised her hand and slapped me.

My face burned as swelling spread instantly across half of it.

"Apologize!" she shouted. "Otherwise, I don't see the point of this wedding anymore!"

She still thought I would lower myself and beg.

Instead, I covered my face and looked at her and said clearly, "Fine. Then, we won't get married."

Shock and disbelief flashed across her face, quickly replaced by anger and contempt.

"So, now you're getting bold, huh? Do you really think I wouldn't dare call this wedding off just because my grandfather arranged it?"

She picked up her phone and put it on speaker, dialing Preston's number in front of me.

"Dad, cancel tomorrow's wedding. Let all the guests know."

After saying that, she stared at my expression, waiting to see regret…panic…or desperation.

She said coldly, "Shayne Taylor, if you apologize now, maybe I can still..."

Just then, Preston's confused voice rang out from the other end of the line.

"Claire, the wedding was canceled a long time ago. Shayne came days ago to call off the engagement. Didn't he tell you?"