Feather Drifting in the Wind

After Caesar Shepherd went overseas with his lover, Florence Lane, about a month passed with no news about Ivy Rivers. Only then did Caesar realize something was wrong. When he had time, he gave his secretary, Morgan, a call. "How's the wound on Ivy's leg? Is she still angry at me for taking her skin for Florence's skin graft?" The opposite side of the line was quiet for a long time. Then, Morgan said softly, "Ms. Rivers was discharged from the hospital and left the residence a month ago." Caesar finally remembered Ivy's eyes full of despair and determination on the day he protected Florence in his arms when the hotel collapsed. That wasn't sorrow. No. That was goodbye. Chapter 1 In her tenth year under Caesar's sponsorship, Ivy got a job offer from an overseas company based in Weissland. Her friends' voices still rang in her ears, the chatter full of disbelief as they tried to change her mind. "Ivy, are you serious? You'll leave as soon as your visa is ready? Why?" "Yeah, why? Mr. Shepherd treats you so well. It's been ten years! He's so attentive to your every need!" "We all saw those ninety-nine proposals! They were unbelievably romantic! You never said yes, but Mr. Shepherd never gave up! If that's not true love, what is?" "Is it because of Florence? Come on, she's just a new girl Mr. Shepherd's sponsoring. I heard her background is pretty tragic. He's just being nice. How could she possibly compare to you?" "That's right, Ivy, don't be stupid. That's a decade worth of love! Mr. Shepherd cares about you so much! There's no way some clueless young woman could change that." Love? Ivy raised her eyes, looking past her chattering friends to the street across from them. A familiar black car eased to the curb. The man behind the wheel leaned over and tucked a strand of hair behind the young woman's ear, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Caesar Shepherd. Florence sat beside him, looking at him with a smile, her eyes crinkling. From that perspective, she really did look like Ivy when she was at that age. Caesar wore a relaxed, almost indulgent smile; one Ivy hadn't seen in a long time. When he looked at her lately, there was more exhaustion and impatience than anything else. Her friends noticed too as they looked in the direction she was watching. Their voices faded, and the air at the table turned awkward. "Maybe it's just a coincidence." "Mr. Shepherd, he..." Ivy looked away without an expression on her face. She took a sip of coffee and let the bitterness spread across her tongue. "I'm a bit tired," she interrupted them. "I'll head home for now. I've already decided to go abroad." She stood up and picked up her purse, forcing a faint smile. Before they could add another word, she left. The afternoon breeze was warm, but it felt cold against her skin. A decade… She still remembered the day Caesar took her out of that run-down, moldy place she once called home. She had curled into a corner, barely daring to lift her head. He taught her manners with endless patience, showed her prosperity, and gave her the best of everything. He spoiled her to the point she felt like a princess, almost forgetting who she had been. Each of those ninety-nine proposals was grand and meticulously planned, like straight out of every girl's dream. It wasn't that she felt nothing. She just never stopped feeling uneasy, like this happiness was a fragile dream. She told herself to wait, to become worthy of him, to make sure their love became indestructible. When did it start to change? It might have been a year ago, when he brought Florence home. He had ruffled Florence's hair and said half-jokingly, "Ivy, look! I found your little substitute. Funny, right?" Or was it the first time Florence broke her music box on purpose? Ivy got angry, and Caesar frowned at her instead. "Ivy, she's just a kid. She doesn't know any better. Let it go. It's just an old music box. If it's broken, I'll buy you a better one." Or was it the times Ivy caught unfamiliar perfume on his shirt and saw ambiguous messages on his phone? He never explained it. He just tried to buy her off with expensive gifts, then snapped out of irritation. "Can you be reasonable once? I'm tired. I don't have the energy to comfort you every day." Or was it during the ninety-ninth proposal, when he held her hand, but his eyes seemed far away under the stars? "Ivy, it'll be a hundred soon. You'll say yes then, right?" But the hundredth never came. Instead, one night after he drank too much, he slung an arm around her and laughed. His tone had been dismissive and cruel. "Ivy, I'll be honest with you. Even the best dishes will get boring after ten years. Just listen to me and wait. Once I'm done with this fresh experience, then we'll get married." Boring. The word drove straight into her chest. Her last hope was shattered on her twenty-fifth birthday, a week ago. Ivy had waited all night, but he never showed up. All she got was a set of blurry photos from an unknown sender. Outside a hotel, Caesar had an arm around Florence's waist as they walked in together, too close to be mistaken. For the first time in ten years, Caesar missed her birthday. In that moment, something in her broke for good. Ivy stopped. She drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. She looked up through the leaves. The sky was so high, so blue. She pulled out her phone, opened the email with the offer from the overseas company, and typed a single word in the reply box. "Received." It's time for her to wake up from this decade-long dream. Chapter 2 Ivy slid the last stack of documents through the window at the visa center. The staffer flipped through them quickly and said, "All set. Everything's complete. The result will be out in a month. You'll get a text when it's time to pick your visa up." Ivy nodded. "Thank you." She turned around and was just going to leave. "Where do you think you're going?!" The shout cracked through the room, sharp with suspicion and surprise. Ivy stopped and turned around. Caesar stood a few meters away, face dark. Florence was holding his arm tightly. When she saw Ivy turning around, she shrank behind him like she was scared. But Ivy caught the spark in her eyes, like she was watching a performance. Ivy opened her mouth, but Caesar cut her off. His voice was cold and impatient, like her plans were his to decide. "Good timing. Saves me from telling you later. There's an overseas auction at the end of the month. I'm taking Florence." He glanced at Florence, his tone softening. "She hasn't seen much of what this world has to offer, so I'll take her along to widen her horizons. You've been to those events too many times, and you're probably tired of them. So, don't go this time." Ivy was stunned. Just a week ago, he had his arms around her from behind in the study, his chin resting on the top of her head as he flipped through the auction catalog. He had even tapped a pink diamond and said, "This suits you. I'll use it for the hundredth proposal." He had forgotten that fast. Ivy looked at his distant face. Everything she wanted to say jammed in her throat. She simply nodded, showing that she heard him. "Wait." Caesar's tone was hoarse, and the way he talked to her sounded more like an order than anything else. "We'll leave together. The car's outside." The familiar black Bentley waited at the curb. Out of habit, Ivy reached for the front passenger door. Caesar's movement obviously slowed, and his brows furrowed. "Caesar!" Florence cried, pointing at the bright pink Hello Kitty sticker on the back of the passenger seat, the one that used to mark that spot as hers. "Look, it's still here!" Her voice was sweet, with a hint of showing off. Ivy's hand froze in midair. She stared at the childish sticker, how it screamed against the car's calm luxury. It felt like something was gripping her heart. Heat surged into her nose and eyes. She had sat in that seat for almost a decade. Caesar glanced at Ivy, looking uneasy for a moment. However, his voice left no space for argument. "Florence gets carsick, and sitting in the back makes her uncomfortable. Just bear with it for a while and sit in the back." Bear with it. The words landed like numb pain spreading through her chest. Ivy said nothing. She only nodded, pulled her hand back, and opened the rear door. The inside was unrecognizable. Pink wool cushions. A sweet, dizzying scent hanging in the air. The seat pocket, crammed with Florence's snacks. Every trace of Ivy had been erased, replaced by another girl's bright, irritating taste. The Bentley slipped into traffic. From the front, their quiet conversation carried back to her. "Is it cold in Northvia right now?" "It is. I brought you that white mink coat. It'll be just nice." "You're the best! Then we have to stay somewhere where we can see the snowy mountains." "Alright. Whatever you want." Each line was a knife, stabbing deeper and deeper into her heart. Ivy turned her head and fixed her eyes on the streets sliding past the window, her nails cutting into her palm. In her heartache, the present seemed to blur into the past. Years ago, it had been this same car. The first time Caesar took her abroad, he had pointed excitedly at the unfamiliar scenery. He held her hand tight and shoved the plane tickets, hotel details, and itinerary into her hands. "We'll go wherever you want in the future, side by side." Back then, Ivy had been the only one in his eyes. Screech! Bang! A brutal impact smashed into the car from the rear. The world spun. A howl swallowed everything. The Bentley lost control, spun, and slid sideways before stopping. Ivy was trapped in the mangled back seat. Pain tore through her. She couldn't move, and every breath intensified the pain in her chest. Dense scent of blood flooded her nose, thick and metallic. From the front came groans and frantic movement. Then Caesar's voice, raw and shaking with fear. "Florence? Florence! Answer me! Where are you? Don't be afraid, don't be afraid! Look at me, I'm here! An ambulance! Yes, call an ambulance!" He had forgotten. Someone was still in the back. Ivy Rivers was still there. With what little strength she had left, Ivy shoved herself through the gap at the crushed door, inch by inch, fighting the ripping pain through her body. Blood blurred half her vision. Each movement dragged her closer to a blackout. She finally broke free and collapsed onto the cold, rough road, gulping air, her whole body shaking. She forced her head up. The bright sunlight swamped her vision. Caesar had Florence in his arms, moving carefully, like she was the most precious, fragile thing in the world. Stumbling, panicking, he ran to the ambulance that had just pulled up. He didn't look back once at the car, almost nothing but twisted metal now. He didn't remember that there was someone in the back seat. Ivy lay sprawled on the road, face smeared with blood and dust. She stared as the ambulance doors slammed shut, cutting off those two figures. The siren rose as it sped away. Warm blood slid down her forehead and dripped onto the road. Chapter 3 The hospital was in chaos. Caesar almost roared as he grabbed the department head who had rushed over. "Save her! Save her first! Use the best medicine! The best doctors! Hurry!" His eyes were bloodshot, his hands shook. All his fear and panic locked onto the person wheeled into the emergency room. When things finally calmed down, a single thought slammed into his half-frozen mind. Ivy! His heart seized. He reached for his phone, trying to call his assistant and send him back to the crash site for her, but his fingers were stiff and clumsy. Then, he turned and saw her. Ivy was stumbling toward him from the end of the hallway. She moved slowly, like every step was on broken glass. The blood on her forehead had dried into dark streaks against her pale face as dust covered her clothes. She looked wrecked and weak. Caesar felt a sharp pain in his heart as he almost ran to her, grabbing her arm. "Ivy. Are you okay? Where are you hurt? Just now, I..." The words became jumbled. Seeing how white her face was, a late rush of panic hit him. "Florence passed out! I didn't forget you! I didn't mean to!" Ivy raised her eyes, but her gaze was empty. It landed on his face, but it was like she saw nothing at all. She gently pulled her arm free and didn't answer. That silence rattled Caesar even more. His eyes looked down without thinking, then they froze. A long, ugly gash ripped Ivy's calf. The skin was peeled back in a gory fashion. A whole patch of bruises and scrapes spread around it, with blood and dirt mixed on her bruises. And just above it were older scars, pale against her fair skin. He knew Ivy scarred easily. Even a small cut would leave a mark. For a decade, he had protected her well. He had barely let her get hurt at all. "Doctor! Come here, now!" Caesar's voice snapped as he dragged over a passing doctor. "Look at her! Use the best medicine and the best treatment! You can't leave a scar behind, you hear me?!" He pressed a hand to Ivy's shoulder urgently, trying to steady her. "Don't be afraid. It's alright. Modern medicine has come a long way. It won't leave a scar." Ivy looked at the fear and confusion in his eyes and felt dazed for a beat. The door to the emergency room opened, and a nurse stuck her head out. "Mr. Shepherd! Ms. Lane is awake! She's emotionally very unstable and keeps crying. She says she wants to see you!" Caesar was stunned and turned at once. The worry in his eyes shifted instantly. The nurse added again in a whisper, "The cut on her cheek is deep and badly infected, with extensive tissue damage. Even after cleaning, it will be hard to heal normally… It may leave a permanent sunken scar and could even affect her facial muscles." Florence's broken sobs carried from inside, raw and desperate. Caesar's expression shifted repeatedly. He looked toward the ER, then whipped back to Ivy's leg. Turmoil was in his eyes. Then, he walked over and stopped in front of Ivy like he had made up his mind. His voice came out dry and strained. "Ivy... Florence's face is hurt. The doctor says she needs a small patch of healthy skin for a graft." Ivy jerked her head up, staring at him as if she had misheard. She shook her head and took a step back. "Just a small patch," Caesar said quickly. He couldn't hold her gaze as his eyes kept sliding toward the emergency room, like Florence's sobs were pulling him by the collar. "She's young. If her face is ruined, her life is over! Ivy..." He paused, and the next words seemed to scorch him, but he forced them out anyway. "Just consider it as you returning the favor. I've taken care of you for ten years, after all." Returning the favor. Those three words pierced through Ivy and tore her apart. She stared at the man in front of her, so familiar but like a stranger at the same time. She saw the pain on his face as he worried for someone else. She saw her own torn leg, the wound he had just sworn would not leave a scar. A bitter wave of hurt and despair rose in her chest and swallowed her whole. She opened her mouth, but no voice came out. In the end, she moved slowly and gave one small nod. Caesar seemed to breathe out in relief. At the same time, he looked like something had caused him pain. He turned his eyes away quickly and yelled at the doctor, "Quick! Arrange for the surgery! Use the best anesthetics! Don't let her feel any pain!" Then, he rushed into the emergency room to comfort the crying girl. Ivy was wheeled into the operating room. She closed her eyes, and a tear slipped down her cheek. Before the anesthesia took effect, her last thought was that this was fine. One patch of skin. To give back the decade she owed him. - When Ivy woke up, she could still feel the effects of the anesthesia. Her head felt heavy and thick. A deep ache pulsed in her leg. She turned her head with effort. In the hospital ward, Caesar sat on the couch across from her. However, his attention was fully on the slim figure in his arms. Florence had gauze on her face. She was against his chest, sobbing quietly. Caesar held her carefully, his fingers patting her back in a slow rhythm as he soothed her in a gentle voice. "Don't cry. It's over now. The graft went really well. There won't be a scar. I'm right here for you." His voice was soft, and he was so focused. Florence was his entire world. Ivy slowly looked away. Her fingers trembled as she lifted the edge of the blanket. Thick layers of gauze wrapped her thigh. At the edge, the exposed skin was swollen and red. She had always been terrified of scars. Now, she had one for real. Her heart was in so much pain that she felt like a strip of flesh had been taken away. But that was everything now. One patch of skin. A decade. They were even now. Chapter 4 The wound on Ivy's leg healed slowly. A dull ache pulsed day and night. When the doctor removed the gauze to check on the healing progress, he frowned and warned her repeatedly. "You need to watch what you eat. No alcohol, no spicy food, nothing that could cause inflammation. Not even a little. Otherwise, your wound will get infected easily, and the scar will get even worse." Caesar stood beside her, listening closely and nodding. "I understand, doctor. You can trust me." Back home, Caesar loosened his tie and called Ivy as she started walking up the stairs slowly. "There's an important party tonight. Florence is coming, too. It's her first time at an event like that, and she doesn't know the rules. Keep an eye on her." Ivy didn't stop. Her shoulders stiffened a little. "Sure." The banquet hall was all sparkling, smelling nice, and full of shiny smiles. Ivy wore a simple black evening gown and did her best to blend into the background. Florence wore a bright pink dress and stayed close to Caesar's side, looking around with wide-eyed curiosity. Whispers stuck to Ivy like flies, buzzing around her without stopping. "Look. The original and the replacement both showed up." "It's obvious that Mr. Shepherd is spoiling the younger one lately. He takes her everywhere." "Ivy's probably about to lose her place. A decade or not, men are men in the end." Each line was a blade, slicing a heart that was already bleeding. When Ivy stepped out of the restroom, she barely had time to focus before a hand clamped around her wrist and yanked her into a corner. Caesar's face was dark, impatience and anger set deep in his eyes. "Where did you go? Didn't I tell you to watch after Florence?" His grip hurt. But before Ivy could say anything, he was already dragging her back toward the center of the hall. The air was tight with tension. The burly Mr. Smith had a damp patch spread across his chest. He stank of alcohol as he pointed at Florence, who stood there trembling with red eyes while he yelled angrily at her. "Are you blind?! Do you think you can afford to pay for this suit?" Florence shrank behind Caesar immediately, crying like a frightened child. "Caesar, I didn't mean it. He… He touched me first, so I just..." Caesar's expression sank. He pulled her closer and faced Mr. Smith, saying, "It's just an accident, Mr. Smith. There's no need to make a scene. I'll pay ten times the cost of the suit. I'll apologize on her behalf." "Apologize?" Mr. Smith sneered. He was clearly drunk and in no mood to simply let things ease. "That isn't how you show favor for someone, Mr. Shepherd! Apologies should be sincere! Have her..." He pointed at Florence. "Drink all this wine! Every last drop of it! Otherwise, we're not finished unless that happens!" He was holding a full bottle of hard liquor. Florence let out a strangled scream and held Caesar's arm. "I don't want to! I can't drink that. I'll die!" Caesar's brows turned into a furrow. Mr. Smith chuckled, his filthy gaze sliding between Ivy and Florence. "How about this, Caesar? You choose. One of them drinks." "Either her…" He first pointed at Florence. Then, he pointed at Ivy. "Or her." Every eye in the room locked on Caesar. His jaw tightened. His gaze flicked between them. He hesitated for less than three seconds before pointing at Ivy. He didn't even look at her as he said in a low and cold voice, "She can drink it." Ivy thought her ears were ringing. The doctor's warning was echoing in her head. The unhealed wound on her leg still throbbed. But he had forgotten. Or… He simply didn't care anymore. Ivy looked at Caesar. All of his attention was on the shaking Florence in his arms. He patted Florence's back, murmuring to her, and never glanced Ivy's way. So… This was what it felt like when a heart finally died. Ivy's lips formed a smile, but no one was sure if it was really a smile out of joy or something else. She did not speak. She did not look at anyone. She stepped forward and grabbed the bottle. The first quaff tore down her throat like burning fire. Her stomach lurched. One quaff. Two quaffs. Three quaffs... The sneers around her blurred into noise. All she could see was Caesar's back as he shielded Florence. Ten quaffs. Not a drop left in the bottle. Ivy set the empty bottle down hard on the table. Her throat burned so badly she could barely force any words out. Her chest felt hollow, like someone had dug straight through it and left a void in its place. "Is that enough?" Ivy asked, her voice hoarse. Mr. Smith froze, clearly not expecting her to finish it so thoroughly. He simply snorted and waved it off. Only then did Caesar seem to notice Ivy was done drinking from the bottle. His brows tightened for a moment, but Florence sobbed again, and his attention snapped right back to her. Ivy turned and stumbled away, heading straight for the restroom. She shoved the door shut, braced both hands on the cold sink, and retched hard, but nothing came out. She was in so much pain that cold sweat broke. Her fingers shook as she lifted her skirt to check the wound, searching for fresh blood, for any sign it had split open. She leaned toward the spot that hurt most. Without thinking, she blew on it softly, the way she used to when she was a child and had no one to comfort her but herself. Suddenly, the adjacent stall was filled with the labored breaths of a man and a woman. Caesar's voice, thick and hungry, came first. "You little witch… You really know how to get to me." Florence's laugh was soft, teasing, broken by gasps. "What about Ivy?" "What about her?" Caesar's voice dropped, then turned muffled, followed by the sound of kissing and the rustle of fabric. "Right now, you're the only one that matters." The sounds grew louder. They didn't even care where they were. Ivy froze even as she bent over, the pain hit her so sharply she could barely breathe. Chapter 5 The banquet slowly quieted as it wound down. Someone suggested a group photo, and laughter rose as people drifted toward the center. Caesar found Ivy standing alone in the shadowed corner. There was almost no color in her face. He walked over, his voice softer now, with a faint edge of guilt. He raised a hand like he was going to touch her cheek, but she tilted her head and avoided him. His hand hung in the air for a moment before he let it back down. "Does your leg still hurt a lot?" He lowered his voice. "When we get back, I'll contact Professor Weaver. He has a new specialty drug from overseas. It's supposed to be best for scars. I won't let you end up with one." Ivy raised her eyes. They slid over his face, calm and empty, then drifted past him to Florence, who was lifting the hem of her dress and hurrying over. Both their faces were faintly red from alcohol. Ivy saw it clearly. Bitterness rose in her throat. "Okay," she said softly. Caesar looked surprised by how obedient she was. In the past, she would have fought him, demanded answers, cried, and made a scene. He studied Ivy's excessively calm face. "You seem to have quieted down recently," he commented, his voice holding a curious hint. Ivy didn't answer. Quiet? She had screamed herself hoarse before. She had cried. She had confronted him. All it got her was his cold shoulder and his growing impatience, and then even more tenderness toward Florence. As if her pain was proof she was childish and worthless. Now, she was going to leave soon. The visa approval would come soon. None of this mattered anymore. Even arguing with him in the final moments felt pointless. The crowd pressed in as the photographer called for everyone to look at the camera. Boom! A deep, terrifying blast tore open above them. The crystal chandelier shook violently, then turned dark. The whole banquet hall started to shake. "Aaaah!" Screams, sobs, and the crashing sounds of falling objects swallowed everything around them in an instant. Chunks of the ceiling broke loose and crashed down. People scattered in panic in all directions. They were standing near the center, the most dangerous place to be. A thick decorative plaster slab dropped straight toward them with a rushing whistle. In that split second, Caesar's expression changed. He grabbed Florence almost on instinct and yanked her into his arms. He covered her with his own body as they dove under a heavy dining table, where it was safer. Ivy had been right beside him. She even felt the wind of his movement as he lunged away. She froze, stunned by the sudden disaster as she stared at Caesar and chose to protect someone else without any hesitation. Ten years… Memories flashed before her like a film. Him in his expensive suit, reaching a hand out to her like a beam of light in that run-down apartment building. His clumsy fingers tied up her hair. The sweetness of the first slice of cake he ever bought her. The love that had once existed in his eyes through those ninety-nine proposals. Love and hate knotted together across ten long years. And in the end, there was nothing left. Then, Ivy saw it. Another sharp chunk of debris was falling in a straight line toward the back of Caesar's head. She didn't have time to think, and her body moved before her mind did. She rushed forward and shoved him hard, forcing him out from under the table where he was still curled around Florence. Almost at the same time... Bang! Heavy debris and broken decorations crashed down and swallowed her. Caesar went sprawling. When he turned back, he was shocked to see what had happened. Where Ivy had been was now a mound of rubble. Only one pale hand stuck out, limp, fingers slightly curled. He stared, blank. "Caesar, I'm scared! I'm so scared!" Florence sobbed in his arms, yanking him back to the moment. Rescue workers rushed in and started searching through the wreckage. They were found quickly enough. Medical staff checked through them quickly, voices clipped and urgent. "Stretchers! Two injured here! The ambulance can take two more! Move!" Caesar helped Florence to her feet. She was shaking and crying. Almost without thinking, he pointed toward Florence's face urgently and said, "Take her first! She just had a skin graft on her face. She can't risk an infection. We can't afford to make mistakes." Only then did he look at Ivy on the ground, her breathing faint. His brows turned into a frown as he spoke quickly, like he was trying to calm her. "Ivy, hang in there. I've had them call a second ambulance. Stay with me. You'll be fine!" He paused, tightened his hold around Florence, and added, "Florence scares easily, and she's really shaken. I have to stay with her." Ivy, lying in cold rubble, heard every word as she slipped in and out of consciousness. That was how the last tiny spark in her heart went out completely. Of course. It was always the same. She couldn't even feel disappointment anymore. The only sensation that was left behind was numb, bitter pain. She knew this was coming, right? With the last of her strength, she moved her head in the smallest nod, like she understood, like she agreed. Seeing how "sensible" she was, Caesar seemed to relax. He stopped hesitating, wrapped his arms around the sobbing Florence, and followed the stretcher toward the exit, never looking back once. Ivy lay in darkness and silence, listening to footsteps fade and the ambulance siren rise into the distance. She slowly lost consciousness. Chapter 6 Ivy struggled to open her eyes. It took a while before her vision focused once again. She turned her stiff neck, little by little. The hospital ward was very quiet. No one was there. Her throat was painfully dry. She tried to sit up for water, but the moment she moved, it felt like her body was starting to fall apart. Sharp pain shot through her bones, especially her back and the leg that had been pinned under the debris. The door opened softly. Caesar's secretary, Morgan, walked in with a folder in his arms. "Ms. Rivers, you're awake?" Morgan hurried over. "You've been unconscious for three days. The doctor says you have multiple soft tissue injuries and a mild concussion. You need plenty of rest." Ivy opened her mouth. "Where is he?" Awkwardness flickered across Morgan's face as he pushed his glasses up. "Mr. Shepherd flew out yesterday afternoon and took Ms. Lane to Alpsland in Northvia. The auction was scheduled a long time ago, and Ms. Lane was really looking forward to it. Mr. Shepherd didn't want to disappoint her, so… If you need anything, just tell me. I'll handle it. He has authorized me to do so." Even though Ivy's heart had been dying for a long time, hearing it still felt like someone drove something sharp into her heart. The pain still spread. She had thrown herself in front of falling debris to save him. She had nearly died. And yet, he hadn't even waited by her bed for her to wake up. Pain, when pushed far enough, turned into numbness. She looked at Morgan and nodded slowly and said hoarsely, "I understand. Thank you." Morgan seemed to relax. He set the folder and a few health drinks down on the bedside table, repeated the doctor's instructions, then left in a hurry. The room went silent again. Ivy leaned back against the pillow, staring for a long time before she finally reached for the phone beside her. The bright red notification on Facebook glared at her. She tapped on it without thinking. Her feed was flooded with Florence's updates. Grids of photos appeared. Luxury first-class cabins. A hotel terrace overlooking Skyburg's beautiful lakes and mountains. The inside of an auction house. Florence smiled sweetly, leaning into Caesar's side in every shot. Caesar turned toward her, his eyes full of tenderness Ivy had not seen in a long time. [Caesar says the cheese fondue here is the most authentic.] [The sunset in Alpsland is so beautiful! Of course, it still can't compare to the sunset someone gave me.] The photo showed a massive diamond necklace Caesar had given her. [Ahhhh! I never thought he'd really bid for this emerald jewelry set for me! He said it matches my temperament.] The photo showed a set of masterwork jewelry set studded with emeralds. Each post drove another spike into Ivy's heart, a thorn in her eyes. The last update was from an hour ago. No long caption. Just a close-up photo. Two hands overlapping on a table. The hand underneath was slender and well-defined. Caesar's. The hand on top was delicate and fair. A blazing pink diamond ring sat on the ring finger. The caption was only two words, but it tore straight through Ivy's last line of defense. [I do.] Ivy knew that pink diamond. Back when they had flipped through the auction catalog together, Caesar had pointed at that stone and whispered in her ear, "Ivy, this one's the best. It suits you. When it's our hundredth proposal, I'll use it to propose to you." So the hundredth proposal hadn't been late. He was simply proposing to someone else. Ivy's heart felt like it was being squeezed by an icy grasp and then shattered. It was so painful that she folded in on herself. Tears spilled out, soaking the pillow in seconds. She lay alone in the cold hospital room. On her phone screen, financial and entertainment headlines kept flashing across the headline. [Shepherd Group CEO spends a fortune to please his beloved!] [Expensive pink diamond appears at Alpsland auction! Likely to be Mr. Shepherd's token of engagement!] [A live Cinderella story? Caesar Shepherd has a new love and may be heading for the altar!] Every word mocked the decade she had spent with him, turning them into a cruel joke. Over the next few days, it felt like Caesar had disappeared. Not a text. Not a call. It was like Ivy didn't exist. Florence, though, kept posting more photos, like she was afraid Ivy might forget. The two of them hug at the foot of the snowy mountains. Spoon-feed each other at an upscale restaurant. Hotel selfies with Caesar's sleeping face blurred in the background... - A week later, Ivy was discharged. Her visa approval sat quietly in her inbox. She stood at the hospital entrance and pulled out her phone. After a long hesitation, she still dialed Caesar. It rang for a long time before someone finally picked up. Noise swelled in the background, like he was at some bustling event. "Hello?" His voice sounded distracted, with a hint of annoyance at being interrupted. "It's me." Her voice was hoarse. "Yeah? What is it? The doctor said you can be discharged? Have Morgan pick you up," he said quickly. "When are you coming back?" she heard herself ask. There was a short pause. Florence's soft, coy voice drifted through. "Caesar, who is it? Come on, this is really delicious!" Caesar was pulled away from the phone, but his indulgent tone still leaked through. "It's nothing important. You eat first." Then his voice became clear again, filled with irritation. "Florence isn't done having fun yet. She wants to stay a few more days. There's also a meeting regarding a merger I need to attend here. I'll come back soon. You go home first. If you need anything, tell Morgan." Standing on the crowded street with the phone in her hand, Ivy let out a quiet, self-mocking laugh. "Alright." She ended the call. The last trace of hope went out for good. She went back to the villa. The place she had lived for a decade. The place she had once believed to be her home. She started packing, taking only the documents she truly needed. In the end, she went into the study and sat at Caesar's wide desk. She pulled out a clean sheet of paper and picked up the fountain pen he used most. The pen tip hovered over the page for a long time. There were so many things she wanted to say that were stuck in her chest. In the end, she wrote only a few short lines. She folded the letter, slipped it into a plain envelope with no name, and set it in the most obvious spot on the desk. When she was done, she stood up and grabbed the handle of her old suitcase as she looked around the house one last time. Then, she turned and closed the door. The lock clicked softly. It shut out the past. And shut out everything.