Zara pushed through the swirling snow, her coat dusted white by the storm. At the entrance of a bar, neon lights buzzed and laughter spilled into the night. Just as she shook off the cold, a voice rose above the noise—sharp, insistent.

"Hey, bro. Landon!"

The name stopped her in her tracks. Zara's stomach instantly twisted.

"I heard Zara’s pregnant. Congrats!"

Before she could even register what was happening, she heard the familiar clink of glass, followed by Landon's scoff.

"You mean Zara? So what if she’s pregnant? I don’t want the child."

A heavy silence followed.

Even Ryan, Landon's best friend, hesitated before speaking. "What about Zara? She's your fiancée. Did you even bother asking her what she wants?"

Landon Winston let out a dry chuckle, swirling his whiskey. "Didn’t Cassidy just lose a baby? She’s still grieving. If Zara has this kid, how do you think Cassidy’s gonna feel?"

Ryan’s face tightened. "That’s not Zara’s responsibility, man."

"The kid has to be aborted," Landon said, his voice unwavering. "Cassidy needs time to heal, and maybe this will help her get pregnant again. I couldn’t marry her back then, so at least I can do this for her now."

——

Zara felt her heart stop.

The wind howled around her, but the chill she felt had nothing to do with the weather.

She couldn't move, couldn't breathe.

Landon didn’t want their baby. Not only that—he was willing to erase their child like it was nothing more than a problem to be solved.

Tears pricked her eyes before they started falling freely. She wanted to turn away, but her feet remained rooted to the ground.

Ryan spoke again, his voice quieter now. "And what about Zara?"

Landon exhaled sharply, his expression turning cold. "Didn’t I already agree to marry her? She got pregnant before marriage. Besides, she brought this on herself. She was the one who eagerly took her clothes off. So how is that my fault, Ryan? I’ll marry her, but the kid’s not staying."

Zara squeezed her eyes shut as his next words cut through her like a blade.

"And she’s had miscarriages before. This won’t be her first or second. If Cassidy’s still uneasy, I can just have her uterus removed. Problem solved."

He said it so casually, so easily, as if he were discussing a business deal. As if she were nothing more than a pawn to be sacrificed.

Zara’s stomach twisted violently. She staggered backward, barely registering the snow that clung to her lashes and hair.

All those miscarriages—had they been his doing all along?

A suffocating wave of pain crushed her chest, making it impossible to breathe. And then there was Cassidy.

The love of his life. His so-called 'unreachable love.'

The woman he had spent seven years worshiping while Zara had been nothing more than her shadow.

Blindly, she turned and walked away. Her steps were heavy, dragging her deeper into the pit of despair.

By the time she reached the Riverside Estate, she was soaked, frozen to the bone, and completely shattered.

Her phone buzzed. It was from Landon:

[I’m coming home tonight. Have the hangover soup ready.]

Zara stared at the screen, her vision blurred with tears. Her fingers trembled as they hovered over the keypad of the phone before she finally typed out a single reply.

[Okay.]

Her answer was hollow, distant, even to herself.

She sat on the floor, her body curled in on itself, her hair tangled, her cheeks stained with the remnants of heartbreak.

Landon’s voice on the other end remained as indifferent as ever as if she were nothing more than a convenience.

Then, her phone lit up again.

Another call.

The ringtone snapped her out of her daze.

"Zara, are you coming back?" The voice on the other end was warm, steady—like a lifeline in a storm.

Julian Hayes.

Unlike Landon’s sharp, careless tone, Julian’s voice carried an effortless sweetness. It wasn’t forced or demanding.

It simply existed, waiting for her to take hold of it.

"Zara, come back to Westfield, won’t you?"

Her throat tightened. She hadn’t been back in years.

Julian’s voice softened, almost teasing. "Hey, come on, please? It’s my twenty-fourth birthday this year. You’re really not coming back?"

A small, breathy chuckle slipped through.

He sounded almost… pouty. "If you’re not coming back, that’s fine. I’ll just spend it alone."

His words trailed off with a dramatic humph, but she could hear the hint of a smile behind them. He wasn’t mad. He was just waiting.

Waiting for her to say yes.

Zara swallowed hard. The weight of her pain, her regrets, her exhaustion—it all pressed against her, but Julian’s voice was like a crack of light in the darkness.

Her lips parted, her voice barely above a whisper. "Then how about you come pick me up in half a month?"

On the other end, she heard the softest inhale—then a burst of quiet, genuine joy.

Julian grinned, the light of a nearby sparkler reflecting in his eyes.

Beside him, the river stretched out under the city’s glow, shimmering with endless possibilities.

"Alright. You've got yourself a deal," he said simply.

For the first time in a long while, Zara felt something shift. A tiny sliver of hope.

Maybe, just maybe, there was still a way out of the darkness.

Julian’s call ended, and Zara sank deeper into the couch, letting the quiet darkness of the night wrap around her. She felt drained—physically, and emotionally—like she was carrying the weight of a world that no longer belonged to her.

It was much later when Landon finally stumbled through the door.

The sharp scent of whiskey clung to him, his shirt wrinkled from a night spent indulging in whatever pleasures the city had to offer. Landon's smirk was lazy as he took in the sight of her curled up on the couch.

"Baby, did you miss me today?" he teased, kicking off his shoes. "Why are you just sitting here all alone, huh?"

His words were playful, but his eyes—those cold, distant eyes—were already elsewhere. Landon flicked on a lamp, casting the room in a dim glow as he leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss against her cheek, his breath warm and heavy with alcohol.

"Didn’t you make me some hangover soup?"

Zara didn’t answer right away.

"No," she finally muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.

There was a time she would’ve jumped up to take care of him, eager to cater to his every need, desperate for his affection. But not tonight.

Tonight, the only thing she felt was exhaustion. The kiss that used to make her heart race now felt cold—like a blade pressing against her skin.

Then his phone buzzed, shattering the silence.

"When are you coming to pick me up?"

Cassidy Martin.

Landon stiffened for half a second before his expression smoothed over.

He turned to Zara with a low chuckle, his lips brushing against her ear. "Baby, my mom's been on my case about getting married, but don’t worry, it’s just a marriage of convenience. You’re still mine, alright?"

The arrogance in his voice made her stomach turn. He said it like it was some grand favor like she should be grateful for whatever scraps of attention he decided to throw her way. But even as he spoke, she could see it in his eyes.

His heart was already gone.

On any other day, she might’ve fought. She might’ve screamed, begged, demanded answers.

But not today.

Zara just looked at him, numb.

Then she shrugged, her tone flat. "Alright. Whatever you say."

And with that, she turned and walked away, the weight of his indifference pressing against her like a stone.

The man who once swore he’d give her the world now smelled like another woman’s perfume.

She picked up her phone, dialing a number she knew by heart. "Boss, I’ll submit my resignation later. I'll leave it on your desk."

Zara had built her career from the ground up, earning a reputation as a top designer. She had worked harder than anyone else, but in a world full of rivals, her departure was bound to make waves.

Her boss hesitated before sighing. "Stay a few more days. I’ll discuss it with the higher-ups."

"Okay." Her voice was steady, emotionless.

The decision had already been made.

Outside, fireworks exploded in bursts of color, painting the night sky with streaks of gold and red. The streets were alive with celebration—families, lovers, laughter. But behind all that warmth, Zara stood alone.

Landon was with someone else.

Her phone vibrated again. This time, with a notification from Instagram.

[Oh my God, so this is Landon’s first love? She’s gorgeous and way more beautiful than I imagined.]

The video showed Cassidy, radiant under the glow of the city lights. She was effortlessly charming, her porcelain skin flawless.

In the background, Ryan laughed, and Landon, ever the gentleman, draped his coat over her shoulders.

"Why’d you take so long to come back?" he asked, his voice soft, affectionate.

Cassidy’s smile was teasing as she pouted. "Wasn’t I waiting for you?"

It was perfect.

A picture-perfect romance, something out of a dream.

A dream Zara had never experienced with Landon.

Her phone buzzed again.

Cassidy’s name flashed on the screen.

[Hey, Zara, why don't we catch up tomorrow night? After all, I’d love to see if the little side character by his side is even worth looking at.]

Zara stared at the message, reading it slowly. Cassidy’s words dripped with cruelty, but for the first time, they didn’t sting.

She placed a hand over her stomach, feeling the faintest hint of life growing inside her. It was a painful reminder of everything she stood to lose.

She typed out a single word in response:

[Okay.]

Then, she set the meeting place at the Emerald Lounge at Clearwater Bay. She knew the owner. Getting a private room on the second floor wouldn’t be a problem.

...

Finally, Zara's long-awaited meeting with Cassidy arrived. By the time she stepped into the lounge, Cassidy's voice was already cutting through the walls—condescending, and unmistakable.

"Landon, you still haven’t broken up with that woman? You’re still keeping Zara around?"

Zara stood outside the door, her hands clenched at her sides.

Cassidy’s voice was laced with amusement. "She's just a mere substitute! How could she compare to me? Landon, don’t you agree?"

Zara closed her eyes, inhaling slowly. The pain, the anger, the years of being treated like a second choice—it all burned inside her.

Zara knocked on the door, her hand steady, her expression unreadable.

From inside, a voice rang out, casual and amused. “Come in.”

As she stepped inside, Cassidy slid off Landon’s lap with a lazy smirk. She let out a light chuckle, eyes gleaming with mischief.

“So, this is Zara? Cute name. Doesn’t really suit you, though.” Her voice was drenched in sarcasm, her gaze sweeping over Zara like she was nothing more than a cheap imitation. “She kinda looks like me, but honestly? She looks like a clown.”

For a split second, Zara hesitated, caught off guard by Cassidy’s sheer audacity. The chandelier overhead cast a warm glow on Cassidy’s flawless features, accentuating her striking presence.

With every move she made, she seemed to command attention. When she finally locked eyes with Zara, it wasn’t curiosity or interest. It was pure condescension.

Dressed in a sleek black pearl gown, Cassidy was a vision of elegance. Her long, wavy hair cascaded over her shoulders, a silky frame to the smug satisfaction in her expression.

She tilted her head, her smirk deepening.

“That kid in your belly,” she mused, her voice sugary sweet, but dripping with bitterness, “do you think it’ll even turn out decent? You’ve never been able to keep a single one all these years, so why bother trying now?”

Her soft chuckle that followed was anything but kind.

“A hen that can’t lay eggs,” she added, stretching lazily in her seat, clearly relishing the tension she was stirring.

Landon’s jaw tightened at her words. His sharp gaze cut toward Cassidy as his temper flared. “Watch your mouth. She’s my girl.”

But Cassidy wasn’t the least bit intimidated. She rolled her eyes, tossing a bored glance his way before shifting her attention back to Zara. Her playful smirk never faltered, even as she delivered the next blow.

“So tell me, Landon,” she drawled, “since you left, why’d you come back?”

She sighed dramatically, then let out an amused chuckle. “Felt bad for you, that’s all. But I’m over it now. I’ll be leaving.”

As she passed Zara, she reached out and tapped her lightly on the shoulder, her smile as arrogant as ever.

“Hey, side chick, if you know what’s good for you, you should just disappear.” Her words hung in the air like smoke, but she didn’t wait for a response from Zara.

She turned on her heel, her radiance filling the room one last time before she disappeared into the crowd, leaving behind only the lingering scent of her perfume.

Flustered and still reeling, Landon barely had time to speak before his eyes landed on Cassidy’s new companion—a man whose hand was now resting securely around her waist.

His gaze was anything but casual, lingering on Cassidy with possession and amusement. Landon’s hands curled into fists at his sides, his expression darkening.

Seeing Cassidy, confident and untouchable, set something off inside him. The anger that had been simmering beneath the surface finally boiled over.

“Fine! You’ve got guts! You really do!” he snapped, his voice low with fury. “If you’re that capable, then don’t ever let me see you again!”

Cassidy barely spared him a glance. Her smirk widened, her expression cool and dismissive as she intertwined her fingers with the man beside her.

Landon’s fury deepened, his chest rising and falling in sharp breaths, but he didn’t look back—not at Cassidy, not at Zara.

With one last glare, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the Emerald Lounge, leaving Zara standing alone in the middle of the room.

Zara’s lips pressed together in a tight line.

But in this world, if you didn’t fight back, you got trampled.

No one crossed a line without consequences.

Cassidy, draped in her designer gown, was a striking figure of power and cruelty. She picked up a glass of red wine, swirling it leisurely before raising it to her lips. Her eyes flickered with something wicked as she turned toward Zara.

Then, without hesitation, she tilted the glass forward.

The deep crimson liquid splashed over Zara’s white dress.

A slow, satisfied grin stretched across Cassidy’s face.

“Clown, get lost,” she sneered, voice laced with condescension. “If I ever see you with him again, I won’t let you off so easily.”

Laughter erupted around them, murmurs of amusement rippling through the room as onlookers delighted in Zara’s humiliation.

The whispers were like sharp daggers, cutting—mocking her for being the woman who couldn’t even hold onto her title as Landon's girlfriend.

Zara stood still, feeling the warm liquid seep into the fabric of her dress. She could feel the weight of their stares, their amusement at her expense.

But she didn’t flinch.

Instead, with a slow, deliberate motion, she lifted her hand and slapped Cassidy across the face.

The sound echoed like a crack of thunder, cutting through the laughter, and silencing the room.

Cassidy’s face turned red with shock and fury. Before she could react, Zara’s voice sliced through the tension—calm, steady but deadly.

“You’d better keep your mouth shut,” she said coldly. “I don’t want that man anymore. If you love picking up trash, then take good care of it.”

Cassidy’s fingers trembled near her cheek, but Zara didn’t wait for her to recover.

She turned on her heel and walked out, stepping into the freezing night air. The cold wrapped around her instantly, but it was nothing compared to the ice in her heart.

She was done.

But the night wasn’t done with her.

As she made her way home, a Maserati sped past, splashing dirty water all over her.

Zara barely had time to react before the passenger window rolled down. Cassidy was leaning lazily against the frame, that same smug smile playing on her lips.

“Side chick,” she called out, voice laced with amusement, “consider that your punishment for slapping me.”

Her eyes gleamed as she tilted her head, feigning curiosity. “Oh, and this car—do you recognize it?”

Zara blinked, wiping the water from her face as Cassidy continued, her tone dripping with satisfaction.

“I heard that on your birthday, he gave you a Maserati, right?” Cassidy let the words linger before delivering the final blow. “Well, let me break it to you. On your birthday, he wasn’t even there. He was in the U.S. with me.”

She let that sink in before her lips curved into a smirk. “As for this car? He bought two. Mine’s the top-spec model.”

She let out a slow breath, watching Zara with barely concealed mockery. “Yours? Just a sponsor’s hand-me-down.”

With a final, triumphant glance, Cassidy rolled the window up and sped off, her laughter lingering in the night like a cruel echo.