“It’s almost midnight. I wanted to give you your gift before the clock strikes twelve.”

Just then, the teasing voices of Shindy’s friends echoed through the room.

“Well, well, isn’t this Mr. Reinn?” one sneered. “Better to see once than hear a hundred times—what a cute little white rabbit.”

Shindy’s expression darkened immediately. Without a moment’s hesitation, she grabbed a wine glass from the table and hurled it at the offender.

“Shut your mouth! If you dare to scare him, I swear I won’t let you off!”

The chill radiating from her was palpable, freezing the atmosphere in the private room. Silence fell as everyone registered the fury in her eyes. Her reaction caught me off guard. I stood there, momentarily dazed. Her friends had merely teased Reinn and she flew into a rage, as though he’d suffered a grave injustice.

Yet just moments ago, when those same friends had said far worse things to me, she had merely laughed and scolded them half-heartedly. I lowered my head, a bitter smile curling my lips. The heavy atmosphere lingered, so I picked up two wine glasses and walked over to Reinn, offering him one.

“Mr. Xylo, nice to meet you. I’m Samuel Hund.”

Before Reinn could respond, Shindy swiftly took the glass from my hand and downed it in one go.

“He has a sensitive stomach and doesn’t drink,” she said. “I’ll drink for him.”

In the three years I’d been with Shindy, I’d lost count of how many times I’d drunk for her at gatherings like this. But now, before Reinn could even protest, she had already stepped in to protect him. I opened my mouth to speak, but my gaze caught on something—the pendant around Reinn’s neck. It was an old, faded bullet casing.

Noticing my stare, Reinn clutched the necklace tightly, his voice nervous.

“Is something wrong, Samuel?”

Before I could reply, Shindy spoke up hastily. “It’s special,” she said quickly. “I gave it to him last time we met.”

I looked at her closely. There was a flicker of discomfort on her face. After three years by her side, I knew her too well. She wasn’t explaining for Reinn’s sake—she was afraid I’d question him. But she didn’t understand me. I, Samuel, was never the type to cling or pry.

“Now that your male companion is here, I’ll take my leave.” I spoke calmly. “Happy birthday, Shindy.” Without waiting for a response, I turned and walked out of the private room.

When I got home, my phone buzzed.

A notification popped up—someone had tagged me in a short video.

In the clip, Reinn sat surrounded by a mountain of gifts, a large bouquet of Black Knight roses by his side and a birthday hat perched awkwardly on his head. The caption read:

[Those who love you will spoil you like a child. For the first time, I learned that someone who doesn’t celebrate birthdays can still receive so many gifts.]

The video disappeared and a message followed seconds later.

[I’m sorry, Samuel. I tagged the wrong person by mistake. I’m really sorry.]

I smiled faintly and set my phone down without replying. Reinn’s tactics were transparent to me—child’s play. I resumed packing my things, but tears betrayed me, slipping down my face. I didn’t own much—just a few sets of clothes. Nothing else really.

As I packed, a painful realization struck me. In three years with Shindy, she had never given me a single gift. Once, during the height of our love, I’d cradled her in my arms, playfully entwining her fingers with mine.

“It’s always me pleasing you,” I had teased, “always me giving you gifts. I see other girlfriends surprising their boyfriends, but I’ve never gotten anything from you.”

"Next anniversary, just get me a small gift." Shindy would always nestle against my neck like that, her voice soft with a playful pout.

"My Sam isn’t like those ordinary men. How could you ever be interested in what those wimps like?"

Her words echoed in my mind, but all I could picture was the video I’d just seen—him sitting in the middle of an extravagant mountain of gifts, casually basking in attention.

That's when the realization hit me hard: I was different from them not because I couldn’t do better, but because I’d never even tried. They didn’t have to beg for gifts; they just received them effortlessly. Meanwhile, I’d spent three whole years hoping for even the tiniest surprise—and still, there was nothing.

How could that not be heartbreaking? Those three years with Shindy were solid and real. I truly believed we’d build a home together.

"Why are you packing all of a sudden? Going somewhere?"

Her familiar voice pulled me back to reality. My hands paused mid-motion as I folded a shirt.

"I'm not going anywhere. The closet was too messy, so I’m just cleaning up."

Suspicion flickered across her face, but then again, she probably thought I had no one else in my life but her. So, she let it go. With a soft sigh, she wrapped her arms around my waist and rested her head against my chest, the warmth of her touch familiar but unsettling.

"Don't get the wrong idea. He's just a friend," she murmured. "I'm marrying you."

Her voice grew quieter. "That necklace... he said it was special, so I let him borrow it for two days. If it bothers you, I’ll ask for it back tomorrow."

She tilted her head to look up at me, her eyes shining with feigned innocence. "Don’t be upset, okay?"

Her voice lingered on that last word, rising sweetly at the end—just enough to tug at my heart like it always did.

After three years together, she knew exactly how to soften me, break down my walls. Whenever I was upset, all she had to do was utter that gentle plea and I’d turn into putty in her hands. But not this time.

This time, the faint scent of men's cologne clung to her hair, bitter and suffocating. My chest tightened. Before I could respond, her phone buzzed loudly.

"What's wrong? The car got scraped?"

Her voice instantly filled with concern.

"Don’t panic! I’m coming right over. Are you hurt?"

Her anxiety overflowed as she pulled open the door. "Reinn, slow down. Call the traffic police and your insurance first—"

She didn’t even glance back at me as she rushed out of the house. Silence fell like a heavy blanket. It was as though she'd never been here at all. I forced a bitter smile, brushing away the tears welling at the corners of my eyes.

That necklace she’d carelessly mentioned? It wasn’t just a trinket—it was the very bullet that had once nearly ended my life.

As a top-tier mercenary, my organization often took on hidden, dangerous jobs through the darknet. My encounter with Shindy happened because she was the client for one of those missions.

Back then, she was being relentlessly hunted by her enemies. For three months, I was her personal bodyguard, shielding her from countless threats.

Time after time, I pulled her out of danger. On the last day of our contract, my enemy and I fired simultaneously.

He dropped dead instantly. The bullet meant for me missed my heart by half an inch. Barely alive, I was rushed to the hospital.

When I regained consciousness, Shindy was crouched by my bed, her eyes swollen and red like a frightened rabbit.

"I'm okay," I rasped weakly. "Don't cry. Our deal’s over. That assassin is dead—no one can hurt you anymore."

I thought she was crying because she was scared. After all, she wasn’t like me—a man who had long made peace with the sight of death. She was a girl born into privilege, untouched by violence. Fear was only natural when thrust into a world filled with corpses. Or so I thought.

She shook her head, pressing her forehead against the back of my hand as her voice broke into a trembling plea.

“This world is too dangerous... I want a home with you.”

Her words hung in the air, raw and fragile. She lifted her gaze to meet mine, her reddened eyes glistening with sincerity.

“Sam,” she whispered, her voice cracking under the weight of her emotions. “My heart aches for you. Stay... stay by my side, okay?”

Maybe it was the desperate look in her eyes, or perhaps it was the quiet vulnerability in her voice. Whatever it was, something in me wavered. Against all reason, I found myself nodding as if her words had cast a spell over me.

From that moment on, I became obsessed with breaking free from the organization. I sought an exit, a way to disappear and live under the radar—all so I could stand by Shindy’s side.

I fantasized about building a home with her, about peace.

Even that bullet, the one that had once symbolized violence and death, was transformed into a necklace she wore close to her heart.

“This bullet,” she had once said, her voice soft with conviction, “will always remind me that Samuel is the love of my life.”

But now...

She knew perfectly well what that bullet represented, yet she had given it to someone else. If that was the case, I had no reason to stay.

***

The next day, Shindy finally returned home, carrying the weight of a business reception scheduled for the afternoon.

“I’m here to pick you up,” she said casually, as if nothing had changed.

I glanced at the clock on the wall. There were still a few hours before Boss’s car would come for me. Not wanting to stir up suspicion or unnecessary trouble, I nodded silently and changed clothes to accompany her.

The banquet hall shimmered under soft chandeliers, the air thick with the mingling scents of wine and cologne. Shindy slipped her arm through mine, guiding me gracefully through the sea of suits and cocktail dresses.

We were a picture of effortless elegance—at least on the surface.

Out of nowhere, a woman in a fiery red dress stumbled toward us. The glass of red wine she held wobbled precariously before crashing into me, the dark liquid splashing across my chest and sliding down my collarbone.

Her eyes widened as they shamelessly roamed over my drenched figure.

“Ms. Noel,” she purred with a sultry smile, “this companion of yours is quite the sight.”

Shindy’s expression remained perfectly composed. She took another glass of red wine from a nearby table and handed it smoothly to the woman.

“You’re joking, General Manager Lind,” she said with a polite but pointed smile. “When you go out, it’s only natural to bring someone... presentable.”

Her voice held a subtle edge as she continued, “Since you seem impressed, it just so happens I’ve reserved a table for dinner. Let’s discuss the development of the resort over a good meal.”

Lindsey’s eyes gleamed with interest, her gaze lingering on me like a predator sizing up prey. I’d been in situations like this before—paraded by Shindy at lavish events, used as a shield against unwanted advances or as bait to sweeten business deals.

A charming companion, a capable bodyguard, a convenient prop. But never, never her fiancé. I swallowed the bitterness threatening to rise and forced a polite smile.

“I’m not exactly presentable like this,” I said smoothly. “I’ll head to the lounge to clean up. Please excuse me.”

Shindy nodded faintly, her expression unreadable.

***

It took an hour for the staff to return my freshly cleaned clothes. I changed quickly and made my way back toward the banquet hall, but as I passed one of the lounges, a muffled sound caught my attention. The door was slightly ajar.

A woman's breathless gasps drifted into the hallway, followed by a voice dripping with desire.

“I didn’t bring you here for nothing,” the woman murmured coyly. “The people out there aren’t trustworthy. I couldn’t risk you getting hurt.”

The man’s voice was low, filled with barely restrained lust.

“But seeing him standing next to you—” he growled, “it nearly drove me mad with jealousy.”

Her laughter was soft and teasing.

“Don’t get so worked up,” she chided playfully. “Keep your voice down. Didn’t you say he’s in the lounge too? What if he hears us?”

The man’s hands didn’t falter.

“The soundproofing in these high-class lounges is top-notch,” she reassured him confidently. “And besides... I already closed the door.”

Their voices melded into a salacious symphony of whispers and gasps as the man continued his brazen advances.

“I love you,” he said hoarsely, his breath ragged. “You surprise me every time.”

I stood frozen for a long moment, my jaw clenched. The contrasts Shindy embodied never ceased to shock me. But the realization settled heavily in my chest—none of it surprised me anymore. Not really.

The moment Reinn's words fell, his gaze shifted sharply, locking eyes with mine across the room. In that instant, everything became clear. His appearance here wasn’t a coincidence—none of this was. The entire setup, right down to me witnessing their intimate little act, had been carefully orchestrated by Reinn.

A bitter smile tugged at my lips. Without a word, I broke eye contact and calmly stepped forward to close the lounge door for them.

As I descended the stairs, my phone buzzed in my pocket.

“Samuel, where are you? I’m coming to get you now,” Shindy’s anxious voice filtered through the line. “There’s been a change of plans,” I said evenly. “We need to leave immediately.”

After sharing the address with my boss, I walked straight out of the hotel, never bothering to return to the banquet hall. This was fate, I told myself—God’s will, even.

Shindy... we will never meet again.