She didn’t respond, just listened in silence as his voice, laced with urgency, echoed through the door. Without a word, she calmly slid the wedding invitation back into the drawer.

"Ash, how’s your foot?"

Her foot?

She glanced down at the bandage wrapped around her wound. What did it matter? Compared to the ache twisting in her chest, this was nothing. Barely a scratch.

Leaning against the wall, she carefully made her way to the door on one leg. The knocking had stopped. Silence stretched on, as if he had finally given up and left.

Pressing her ear against the doorframe, she listened, waiting. When it seemed like he was truly gone, she slowly turned the handle—

Only for a tall figure to push through the moment the door cracked open, trapping her in his arms.

"You didn’t leave!"

She tried to break free, but before she could, he swept her up without effort and carried her straight to the bed, setting her down firmly.

Max didn’t say a word—just knelt before her, silently and carefully unwrapping the bandage around her foot.

"Tss…"

A sharp sting shot through her as he peeled the dressing away. She flinched, instinctively jerking her leg back—And ended up kicking him square in the shoulder.

Caught off guard, Maz let out a low grunt of pain. But he didn’t let go. His grip on her leg remained firm.

Ashley’s heart trembled. "Knocking on my door in the middle of the night, barging in without a word and now holding onto my foot like this—do you really think that’s okay?"

"Max."

His hands stilled. His jaw tightened, his expression dark and unreadable. He didn’t say a word, but the tension in the air was palpable.

Under the dim glow of the night lamp, she could sense his simmering anger, though she had no idea what had set him off.

What did he have to be angry about?

Ashley was the one who had been abandoned. She was the one who had been hurt. And now, she was the one being cornered in the middle of the night.

If anyone had the right to be mad, it was her. Yet, somehow, he was the one acting like the victim?

Ashley’s chest rose and fell sharply, frustration bubbling beneath her skin. The man in front of her was utterly unreasonable.

"Why is the wound this deep?" Max’s voice came out rough, tinged with something that almost sounded like regret. For a fleeting moment, she wondered—did he actually care? "Just stay home and rest, alright?"

She nearly laughed. What else was she supposed to do? Ran off to work with injured foot?

Instead of saying her thoughts out loud, she forced a small, detached smile and gave a quiet nod.

Seeing her unwillingness to speak, Max assumed she was still angry about what had happened earlier.

"Apologize to Lili when you get a chance. She’s just a young girl—you really scared her."

Ashley’s lashes trembled. In that moment, everything clicked.

Max hadn’t come to check on her injury. He didn’t care how bad it was. He was here to make sure she apologized to Liliana. That’s how much she meant to him now.

A dull, suffocating pain crept through her, wrapping around her like a vice. Tears slipped down her cheeks, silent and unnoticed as they landed on her knees.

Max had been angry before, but the moment he saw her cry, his frustration faded.

And in its place, an unfamiliar panic took root. A gut-deep unease, like something was slipping beyond his control.

"Ash, I promise… I’ll never let you get hurt again."

A bitter laugh nearly escaped her lips. A promise?

Seventeen-year-old Ashley would’ve clung to those words. Would’ve trusted him with her whole heart.

But she was twenty-seven now. And she knew better.

This was classic Max—hitting her with the stick, then offering a sweet lie to smooth it over. He had mastered the art of breaking her down and dressing the wound all in one breath.

Too bad for him. Her heart had already died.

His promises? They meant nothing now.

That night, maybe it was out of old memories, or maybe it was the sight of her silent tears.

Ashley refused to apologize. In the end, Max let it go. But as he left, his eyes held a trace of helplessness.

Ashley figured he was probably stressing over how to explain this to his little girlfriend. Not that it had anything to do with her.

For the next few days, Max didn’t return to the house. Life settled into quiet routine—reading financial reports, spending time with her mom.

With nothing else to do, she started learning to bake with her, their conversations drifting between lighthearted and casual.

"Ash, there’s something I need to tell you."

Her mother’s tone was calm, but Ashley could sense the weight behind her words.

"I’ve decided to divorce Juan."

Ashley’s hand trembled. The dough she was about to place on the baking tray slipped from her fingers and fell to the floor.

It took her a moment to process what her mother had just heard.

"Is it because… Uncle Juan treated you badly?" Ashley spoke carefully.

Meanwhile, Alana assumed her daughter was simply worried about her, didn’t think much of the hesitation in her tone.

Alana patted Ashley’s shoulder gently, her voice warm. “Divorce doesn’t always need a big reason, dear. When two people stop being right for each other, it’s only natural to go their separate ways.”

"Don’t overthink it."

Her mother’s words made something shifted in Ashley’s heart.

She was right. When something no longer fits, you let it go. Just like her and Max. It had taken her ten years to understand that.

“The only thing I still worry about is you and Max. You’re both not getting any younger, yet neither of you is married.”

“And you—how heartless! Running off to another country, leaving your poor mother all alone.”

“Max isn’t much better. He may look well-behaved, but I doubt he’s any less of a headache. At least he has a girlfriend. But you?”

Alana teased, “Maybe it’s time to find yourself a nice foreign boyfriend and finally settle down.”

As they chatted, the sound of footsteps echoed in the hall.

Ashley glanced up—Max was leaning against the wall, idly twirling a small plush toy between his fingers.

He looked… oddly relaxed.

She lowered her gaze, choosing to stay quiet.

Alana, however, greeted him casually, making small talk.

Max responded politely, but his eyes kept drifting toward Ashley.

Alana’s gaze flickered between them, her expression thoughtful. It reminded her of the two’s tense exchange a few days ago. In the end, Alana chose not to say anything.

Sensing the heavy atmosphere, Alana took the initiative to lighten the mood.

“What’s that fluffy thing you’re holding? Looks pretty cute.”

“This?” Max lifted the plush toy slightly, a hint of amusement in his tone. “It’s a limited edition HammyHamzy.”

“Lili loves it. I upset her the other day, so I figured I’d bring a little gift to make it up to her.”

As he spoke, he pressed his lips together, almost sheepish, raising a hand to cover the faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

For a moment, Max looked just like a boy freshly in love—shy, sweet, completely smitten.

Ashley was suddenly reminded of seventeen-year-old Max—back when he was still innocent and unguarded, when just the sight of him could send her heart racing.

She lowered her gaze, slipping her left hand behind her back. No one noticed how tightly she clenched her fingers, her knuckles turning white from the pressure.

She thought of the HammyHamzy keychain she had secretly tucked away in her bag. She had always liked HammyHamzy. But Max had once scoffed at it, calling it childish—something only little kids would care about.

Back then, she had believed him.

She was an executive now. Carrying something so cutesy didn’t fit her image. People would talk.

Yet, she still couldn’t resist. She had bought one anyway. She just never put it on her keys. Never let anyone see.

But because Liliana liked it, Max’s attitude had completely changed now.

The same plush toy he once dismissed without a second glance was now something he cradled carefully in his hands, treating it like a treasure.

Ashley blinked, pushing back the sting in her eyes. A normal, open relationship. Undeniable, unabashed affection.

For just a moment, she envied Liliana. Unlike her, Liliana never had to hide. Not her feelings. Not the man she loved. Not even a simple plush toy.

Ashley suddenly felt drained.

Max’s voice snapped her back to reality. “Oh, right. When I walked in just now, I heard something about a foreign boyfriend? Who’s the lucky one?”

Max raised an eyebrow slightly, his eyes darkening with a hint of curiosity.

Before Alana could mention Ashley’s plans to go abroad, Ashley cut her off.

“Just a friend. I recently started dating someone overseas.”

Max acknowledged her response with a simple sound and didn’t linger downstairs any longer.

Alana, on the other hand, looked at her in disbelief. “You haven’t told Max you’re leaving?”

“Ash, you’re an adult now. Why are you acting like a kid throwing a tantrum?”

“Aren’t you the closest to Max? What happened?”

Ashley’s eyes flickered and her voice was low. “We had a fight… still haven’t made up.”

“Mom, don’t mention my trip abroad to him yet. I’ll tell him when the time comes.”

Alana thought back—it wasn’t the first time they’d argued. She figured it was just another small fight and chose not to press further, letting them work it out on their own.

She agreed. Kids these days were complicated and she had no interest in getting involved.

That evening, as they were getting ready for dinner at the old house, Max received a call from Liliana. Sitting across from him, Ashley vaguely heard a sweet, soft voice from the other end of the line.

The voice said there was a surprise for him.

As Ashley took a sip of water, she glanced at Max unintentionally and noticed the faint smile tugging at his lips. He rubbed his forehead helplessly, looking like he had no way of dealing with whoever was on the other end of the call.

Ashley didn’t react, calmly waiting for dinner. She knew there was nothing between them anymore. She had already prepared herself for the day Max would fall in love with someone else—maybe even get married and have kids.

That thought made her eyes dim slightly. Later that night, as she lay in bed, she found herself tossing and turning for no reason.

She hadn’t expected to hear Max knocking on her door again.

Knock, knock, knock…

The knocking was urgent, but she ignored it. Then, her phone started buzzing nonstop.

It was Max calling. Annoyed by the noise, she picked up in a hushed voice.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Open the door.” His voice was hoarse, firm, leaving no room for argument.

Ashley had no intention of listening. She sat up and shouted through the door, “Max, are you out of your mind? I’m not opening it.”

“Ash, you’re still so foolish…”

Outside, she could hear his heavy breathing. Then, the sound of the lock turning.

Only then did Ashley remember—Max had a key to her room.

Her pupils quivered as panic set in. She tried to brace against the door, but the difference in strength between them was overwhelming. Max pushed his way in effortlessly.

A crisp, cool scent filled the air. Ashley instinctively wanted to escape, but before she could, Max’s strong arms wrapped around her waist, holding her firmly in place.

His brows were furrowed, his sharp features cast in deep shadows under the dim hallway light, making him seem even more unreadable.

The faint scent of alcohol lingered in the air. Just as she thought, Ashley realized. Max was drunk and came to her room with up to no good.

Ashley struggled harder, her voice filled with frustration. “Let go of me! If you’re drunk, go sleep it off somewhere else. Don’t come here acting crazy!”

But before she could break free, Max pressed her against the wall, tilted her chin up and captured her lips in a forceful, domineering kiss.

“Mmph—”

The more she resisted, the deeper he kissed her, as if trying to carve himself into her very soul.

By the time he finally pulled away, his arms had only tightened around her. Ashley felt dizzy, her cheeks burning with heat.

Max’s gaze was dark and intense, filled with an unmistakable desire. His long fingers trailed along the hem of her dress, skimming over the soft skin of her thighs.

Ashley’s body trembled with unease. Sensing her hesitation, Max who was uncharacteristically gentle, lowered his voice and whispered a quiet reassurance.

"Come on, Ash... you want me too, don't you?"

Ashley shoved Max away with all her strength, fury bubbling up inside her.

Caught off guard, he fell to the ground. His once dazed, drunken eyes slowly began to clear.

Ashley was afraid of what might happen next, imagining the household staff walking in and seeing them both, disheveled and tangled in this mess.

Then, they'd notice the strange, forbidden bond between the step-siblings.

Weakly, she reached for the nightlight and turned it on. Sitting at the corner of the bed, she watched as Max’s usual indifferent expression returned.

The room fell into a heavy silence. Her throat tightened before she finally spoke.

"You're sober now."

Max lowered his head and rubbed his forehead, responding quietly, "Yeah."

A wave of frustration surged within her. How could he be so calm after everything that had just happened?

"What's the matter? Did Liliana not satisfy you? Had to crawl out of bed in the middle of the night and come to me instead?"

A bitter smirk curled on her lips as her anger flared. She wanted to tear apart the calm expression on his face. From the past until now, he had always controlled her emotions.

It was like this when they were together and even now, after their breakup, it was still the same. For once, she wanted to make him feel something—wanted to see him lose control.

To Ashley's surprise, he simply furrowed his brow and looked at her with dark, unreadable eyes. "She's very obedient. She didn't want to make move I didn't tell her to."

Max' voice was flat, like a blade cutting into her heart, leaving deep, painful wounds with every word.

"I drank too much and wasn’t thinking clearly. Just forget I came here tonight."

Ashley had no choice but to admit defeat. In just a few short sentences, he had wounded her beyond repair.

Max staggered to his feet and left and her vision began to blur as tears filled her eyes. Downstairs, the sound of a car engine roared to life, Max was finally gone. For good, this time.

This man had finally broken the last shred of attachment she had to him.

Ashley's heart raced and her breathing grew shallow. The air around her seemed thick and stifling and she couldn’t catch her breath.

With a sharp thud, she collapsed to the floor, the suffocating feeling overtaking her. Tears welled up as she slipped into darkness.

When she woke, she found herself in a hospital bed. The housekeeper had heard strange noises downstairs that night, gone up to check and found her pale and unconscious. They had called an ambulance just in time.

Alana was startled by how she found Ashley and couldn't help but lecture her daughter.

Even Juan, despite his busy schedule, took the time to visit Ashley once. Max, on the other hand, never showed up.

His whereabout was obvious. All Ashley had to do was check Liliana’s social media to know where he was. But she wasn’t interested in his life anymore.

The day she was discharged from the hospital was the same day she flew to Puerto Vendaval. She gave Alana a brief goodbye, grabbed her suitcase and boarded the flight.

After getting on the plane, Ashley opened the chat box between herself and Max.

She had thought a lot before sending him the last message. She wanted to ask him why he treated her like this. But now, when it was time to end it, she only typed a short sentence.

[Max, I don't care about you anymore, and I won't love you anymore. We're done.]

The plane took off slowly, and she blocked all his contact information in one breath.