Landon turned and walked out without a second glance.

The cup of warm milk sat in Zara’s hand, its sweetness long gone, replaced by a bitter aftertaste that mirrored the tears she hadn’t been able to shed.

With one last, shaky breath, she drained the cup to the last drop.

A sharp pain knifed through her abdomen, and then—blood.

Zara knew. She didn’t need a doctor to confirm it. She was losing the baby.

Panic seized her chest, but the world around her blurred, dissolving into darkness.

The only thing she could do was close her eyes, the weight of despair pressing down on her like an unbearable force.

...

When Zara woke, daylight had already filled the room.

But the sterile scent of antiseptic and bleach made her stomach turn. The cold air from the hospital vent made her shiver, her body weak, and her throat raw.

Through the window, she spotted a Rolls-Royce parked outside.

'He’s here?'

For the briefest moment, hope flickered inside her. But then—

“You know, Cassidy’s really lucky. She just caught a cold, and her fiancé's acting like it’s the end of the world.”

“Right? I heard he is Landon Winston from the Winston family. They say he’s a playboy, but who would’ve thought he could be so devoted?”

The engagement ring on her finger slipped, tumbling to the floor with a soft metallic clink.

Zara didn’t even look at it.

Her mind was a whirlwind of static. "Landon… tell me, who are you really loyal to? Do you think that little side character won’t be upset? And using nourishment to supplement the body? You actually came up with that?"

Her eyes were swollen, her face raw from crying. Just as she thought she might drown in her misery, the door creaked open.

The nurse stepped in, and behind her was Cassidy Martin.

Their eyes met. Zara could read the message clear as day in Cassidy’s gaze.

Provocation. Amusement. Triumph.

Cassidy didn’t even need to say a word.

Her lips moved silently, taunting Zara: 'Look at you. In the end, you lost to me.'

And Landon?

His eyes never strayed from Cassidy.

Zara coughed, her chest tight, then slowly closed her eyes. As if shutting them could somehow make the disgrace disappear.

...

On the drive back home, Zara saw something that made her freeze.

Landon—her fiancé—who had never once set foot in a kitchen, was now in there, cooking.

“Zara, Cassidy’s going to stay here for a few days. You know that, right?” he asked.

She didn’t respond.

Her body felt like lead.

Her heart? Even heavier.

Exhausted and completely drained, she muttered without thinking, “Do whatever you want.”

From the kitchen, Cassidy’s voice rang out, dripping with a smirk. “Forget it. Since I’m here, I’ll let you try my cooking today. I made dumplings for you. What do you think?”

Zara didn’t answer. She was too tired. Too tired of all of it.

Her thoughts drifted to Julian. She didn’t even know where he was, but for some reason, she wanted to hear his voice.

Just to ground herself. Just to remind herself that there was still something beyond this nightmare.

Landon stepped out of the kitchen, dusting flour from his hands.

His voice was soft, coaxing. "Don’t be mad at me, okay? After a while, I’ll take you on a trip. Just don’t stay angry."

His eyes held that familiar tenderness—the same warmth that had once made her melt.

But now? Now it just felt empty.

To him, this was a cycle. He played, he strayed, and when he was done, he always came back to her. Because he liked her. Didn’t he?

Zara stayed silent.

Before she could even process her thoughts, Cassidy’s voice rang out again, laced with mockery. "Come on, join us! We all know our dear Zara has no clue how to make dumplings, so why not try mine instead?"

Landon shot Zara a nervous look, lowering his voice. “Please, don’t be upset anymore, okay?”

Zara ignored him, her focus entirely on Cassidy. Slowly, deliberately, she picked up a dumpling and took a bite.

Cassidy’s eyes gleamed with amusement. “Well? How does it taste?”

Zara didn’t answer.

But Landon? His face drained of color. He turned to her, his hands trembling slightly.

“Get out of my house,” he said, his voice shaky, like his entire world had just collapsed around him.

But Cassidy wasn’t done.

Feigning to be surprised, she let out a lazy hum before sneering. "Do you know what you just ate?"

The air grew thick, suffocating.

Cassidy leaned in, her smile widening. "You ate the child you aborted yesterday. That’s what’s wrapped inside."

Her grin was pure malice.

“Delicious, isn’t it?”

She was reveling in this—savoring Zara’s pain like a fine wine. Every word was meant to crush, to obliterate, to make sure Zara never crawled back from this.

“How does it feel?” Cassidy cooed, tilting her head. "How does it feel to taste your own flesh and blood?"

Cassidy’s words hit Zara like a slap to the face. The dumpling slipped from her fingers, landing on the floor with a dull thud. Her whole body went rigid like she’d been struck by lightning.

Landon panicked. He reached for her, his arms wrapping around her as if holding her close could erase everything.

His breath came in short, desperate bursts. “Zara, don’t be mad at me, okay?”

But Zara wasn’t hearing him. Her body trembled violently, her fists clenched so tightly that her nails dug into her palms.

Even her lips quivered. Zara controlled her anger, but her mind was screaming to lash out at him. 'Landon… how dare you? How dare you treat me like this?!'

When Zara couldn't contain it anymore, she burst out, “You knew about this from the start, didn’t you? Didn’t you?!” Her chest heaved, her eyes bloodshot, burning with fury. “Landon, tell me, what did I ever do to deserve this? Why are you doing this to me?!”

The weight of it all came crashing down, a tidal wave of grief and rage. It wasn’t just the neglect. It wasn’t just the heartbreak of losing seven unborn children. It was the soul-crushing realization that she couldn’t love him anymore.

Landon’s face twisted in panic.

He reached for her again, his words tumbling over each other in desperation. “I won’t go through with the arranged marriage anymore, okay? Please, don’t be mad at me! From now on, I’ll stay by your side—just you and me, alright? Don’t be mad, please…”

For the first time in his life, he was afraid. His voice cracked. “I’ll cancel the engagement.”

But Zara wasn’t listening anymore.

She was exhausted—down to her bones. The only thing she wanted was to collapse into sleep and never wake up. She shoved him away, her touch ice-cold, then turned and fell onto the bed.

...

When Zara woke, her phone was buzzing.

An incoming call from Julian.

The moment she heard his bright, youthful voice, something in her chest loosened.

He laughed lightly through the speaker, his tone teasing. “Zara, when you come back to Westfield, can you bring me some local snacks? I’m seriously craving them.”

Like a burst of sunshine cutting through the storm, his voice warmed the frozen corners of her heart. She smiled, the heaviness in her chest easing just a little. He kept talking about small, silly things, filling the silence with something that wasn’t hurt.

“Alright,” she murmured, voice softer now. “We’ll talk more when I get back.”

And just like that, the anger and hurt suffocating her lifted, if only for a moment.

...

Later, when she stepped outside, Landon was waiting at the door. He looked uneasy, his usual confidence nowhere to be found. It was the first time she’d ever seen him like this.

Panicked. Hesitant. Unsure of himself.

She met his gaze with indifference. “I’m going to meet some friends. Don’t follow me.”

But his voice came firm, stubborn. “I want to go.”

She laughed, the sound sharp. “I already said I’m going alone. What’s the point of you coming? You really think my friends want you there?” She scoffed, shaking her head. “You’re more full of yourself than I thought.”

...

They climbed into the Maserati. The second Zara saw the Hello Kitty decorations on the passenger seat and the “Princess’s Exclusive Ride” sticker plastered on the dashboard, her stomach churned.

She felt physically ill. She didn’t even hesitate. She slid straight into the backseat.

Landon frowned, glancing at her in the mirror. “Come sit in the front. I’ll have someone clean it up when we get back.”

Zara leaned back, arms crossed.

“My passenger seat is only for you,” Landon coyly said.

She didn’t care about the car. Or about the childish remnants of his past with Cassidy.

With a small, humorless scoff, she answered, “No need. It’s just a seat.”

Landon looked like he wanted to say something else, but she cut him off with a cold finality. “Just drive. There’s nothing to talk about.”

Silence settled between them like a thick fog. He gripped the steering wheel, knuckles turning white, but she stared out the window, detached and unbothered.

The drive was quiet. The tension was suffocating.

When they finally pulled up to the hotpot restaurant, Landon’s phone buzzed.

Ryan.

Ryan’s voice crackled through the phone, filled with urgency and panic.

"Where are you? Do you even know what happened to Cassidy? How could you just leave like this?! She—she tried to kill herself! Do you get it?!"

Landon’s face drained of color. His eyes flickered with guilt and hesitation as he glanced at Zara, clearly caught between duty and desire, unsure of how to navigate this mess.

“I’ve got something to take care of today,” he muttered, his voice strained. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

Zara barely reacted. Her voice was flat, almost indifferent. “Oh.”

Then, with a calmness that even she hadn’t expected, she added, “If it’s too much for her, she can stay at our house.”

Landon’s head snapped up, his face showed shock and disbelief. “What did you just say?!”

“I said,” Zara repeated, her tone unwavering, “she can stay at our house.”

Landon’s jaw tightened. “Don’t worry. I’m just going to check on her. I’ll be back soon. I won’t let her stay at our house.”

“You’re my fiancé,” Zara said, her voice sharp.

“I’ll be right back,” he muttered, almost too quickly, before turning and walking away, practically fleeing like a man running from his own conscience.

...

By the time Zara wrapped up dinner with her friends, it was well past midnight. Fatigue settled deep in her bones as she hailed a cab home, her body still weak from the miscarriage.

Her phone buzzed incessantly. The screen lit up with a string of incoming messages.

[Do you know what he’s doing right now? He’s blow-drying my hair.]

[Look, these are the love letters he wrote me. Want to see them?]

Zara remained silent.

Every single message and every picture revolved around Landon.

The images, taken in what was obviously a hotel room, showed Cassidy draped in nothing but the dim glow of the bedside lamp. Bruises and kiss marks traced her skin in places that needed no explanation.

Cassidy had always been arrogant.

But this? This was just her being excessive.

Zara exhaled slowly, the weight of her exhaustion pressing down on her. She didn’t feel anger—not even heartbreak. Just an overwhelming sense of emptiness.

Her fingers moved swiftly across the screen as she typed back:

[Then keep your dog on a leash and quit letting him run around biting people.]

...

The next morning, as Landon busied himself in the kitchen, another message from Cassidy popped up.

[Come to Starlight Tower tomorrow.]

Zara’s jaw tightened. 'How ridiculous.'

Without a second thought, she closed the message and turned away.

That day, she gathered her things.

Every love letter. Every diary entry she had ever written for Landon.

One by one, they went into the trash.

The carefully folded paper stars. The protective charm she had once prayed over at Everlight Sanctuary. The scarf she had bought but never had the chance to give him. The bag of White Rabbit candies she had intended to share with him.

All of it went up in flames.

Seven years of memories—of pain, of hope—burned away in seconds.

That night, she couldn’t sleep. She tossed and turned, her mind looping through thoughts of Cassidy, of Landon, of every single lie she had swallowed whole.

When she finally managed to drift off, the sharp buzz of her phone jolted her awake.

A message from Landon:

[Be good and stay home. I’ll come see you this afternoon.]

Almost immediately after, another message.

This time, from Cassidy:

[I know you want to go back to Westfield. If you don’t come to Starlight Tower, I’ll tell him about your plans to leave.]

Zara’s fingers tightened around her phone.

'So this was the game now? Threats?' she thought

Zara, then, took a slow breath, forcing her emotions down.

Then, she typed back one word:

[Fine.]

...

Starlight Tower was a historical landmark, steeped in legend. People whispered that it had been built by an ancient emperor for his true love.

They said if lovers prayed there, their souls would be forever connected, bound together in this life—and the next.

Seven years ago, Zara had stood at these very steps, praying for Landon.

She could still hear his voice in her mind—bored, indifferent. “You’re not a kid anymore. If you want something, go by yourself. My time is precious—can you afford to waste it?”

Back then, she had swallowed the lump in her throat, forcing herself to smile, waiting for him to turn around and see her.

Just once. Just for a second.

But he never did.

And that’s when she finally understood.

It wasn’t that Landon couldn’t love her.

He just didn’t love her.

“Well, well,” a familiar voice cooed, pulling Zara out of her thoughts. “So you were waiting here all along.”

Zara turned, finding Cassidy descending the stone steps, her heels clicking against the ancient rock. She looked effortlessly composed, her smirk lazy, her eyes alight with amusement.

But beneath all of that, her cold, calculating malice was unmistakable.

“You actually had the guts to show up here?” Cassidy’s voice dripped with mockery, full of venom. “Aren’t you scared you might not leave alive?”

Zara stood still, letting the weight of Cassidy’s words settle around her. But then, something inside her clicked. She wasn’t afraid of Cassidy. She wasn’t afraid of any of this.

She had nothing left to lose.

With a slow, steady breath, Zara squared her shoulders, meeting Cassidy’s gaze head-on.