Lina realized that not everything in her life went as expected. When she was a child, she wanted to live in a cozy house with a loving husband with rooms dedicated to her hobbies. She didn't picture the glamour of skyscrapers, the people that relied on her, or the crazy people trying to break up their relationship.

  "You act like a discarded mistress. Grow up." Lina's own voice surprised her. In fact, the entire room was stunned.

  They expected her to shout. To storm out. Or to fight her way inside. Instead, she remained by the doorway. Her lean silhouette was straight. Her shoulders back. Her eyes disapproving.

  Lina was hurt. Priscilla's words felt too accurate. She could feel the thorns of doubt twist into her heart. She couldn't show the pain. Not here. Not in this office. Not when it was what Priscilla wanted to see.

  "You know, I actually liked you," Priscilla snarled, her tone like venom. "When you corrected my data tables the first time we met, I thought I had finally met a formidable woman for the first time in my life."

  Lina didn't even blink. She was used to it. Used to people creating an image of her inside their head. An image that was just an illusion. People always viewed her in the way they wanted to. They didn't account for what she truly was.

  In Priscilla's case, she saw a friend. A partner in crime, perhaps.

  "Who would've thought you were just the trophy wife from a good background, picked from an even greater family with an even larger wealth?" Priscilla continued.

  Lina realized what Priscilla was doing. Whilst the Director was losing her mind, she was also hurt.

  Lina slowly shifted her eyes to meet Priscilla's. "Leave whilst you still have your dignity intact."

  Lina stepped into the room with an alarmingly collected expression. A serene, understanding smile appeared on her face.

  "What? Did that hit a nerve?" Priscilla scoffed with a roll of her eyes. "You think you know everything about this man?"

  Kaden watched the scene unfold. Not because he couldn't stop Priscilla. He could. But it was because he only wanted his wife to see beautiful things. And the words he'd say to Priscilla could destroy her for good.

  "That ugly ring on your finger is just a copycat! Your husband couldn't even get you House DeHaven's heirloom!" Priscilla screamed, for her frustration had finally bubbled to the surface. The bubble popped.

  Lina's hand suddenly felt heavy. The stone became a boulder. She slowly glanced down at the ruby ring. Is that why so many people did a double-take? Is that why Atlantis looked at her with sympathy and at Kaden with hatred?

  Everyone else knew the truth before she did. Damn them for being nosy.

  "Are you done throwing tantrums?" Lina asked, tilting her head like a parent shunning a screaming child.

  Priscilla's breath hitched. Her eyes watered from angry tears. She hated this part about her. She reacted to stress by having tears of hatred. Her throat felt like it was being squeezed shut. She could barely continue this argument.

  Priscilla was ranting her head off, but Lina handled the situation with a single line. Priscilla knew, deep down, that she could not win against this woman. They lived worlds apart, from different backgrounds and families.

  "Don't say you weren't warned, you idiot," Priscilla snapped.

  Priscilla yanked away from Kaden's violent grip. She bit down on her tongue, expecting pain. There was none. Her skin was still pale, albeit blue from the lack of blood. There was no bruise. No pain.

  Kaden DeHaven didn't hurt women physically. Instead, he collected hearts, sliced them into shreds, and minced them into nothingness.

  Priscilla's agony was not visible. It was on the inside, where she felt herself crumble with disbelief. All her screaming. All her venting. It led nowhere. In the end, she jutted her chin in the air and sauntered past Lina.

  Only then, did Lina speak again. "We're all idiots in love."

  Priscilla's eyes burned. This time, a lone tear slipped out. "You're the idiot for staying with him. Not me."

  "Yet you discarded your dignity to get nothing."

  Priscilla's head snapped to Lina.

  Lina glanced at the letter on the desk. A forced resignation. A promotion to a different company but with a higher position. A scorned woman.

  The two said nothing, but their silence spoke volumes. Eventually, Priscilla shoved past Lina.

  "Come."

  Kaden stared at his wife. The sheer softness of his voice made Priscilla freeze by the doorway.

  Priscilla slowly turned around like the victim in a horror movie where the ghost was chasing her. Priscilla had never once, in the 7 years she worked for him, heard him speak like this. Much less, she realized a heart-shattering truth.

  Whilst Priscilla was shouting at him, doing everything she could to hurt him, doing everything she could to make him feel an ounce of guilt, he wasn't even looking at her. The entire time, he was watching his wife.

  Priscilla didn't know what killed her more. The sudden realization of where his heart laid or the gentleness he never showed to her.

  And without another word, Priscilla left the room with a loud slam of the door. She left her heart bleeding on the ground and her resolution tight in her hands. She decided to never look back. She would not love again.

  "I warned you," a low, cool voice murmured.

  Priscilla's head snapped in the direction. Who dared to remain in their seats? Who dared to continue their job when she had screamed for everyone to get the hell out?

  Of course, it would be him.

  He, who doomed their relationship from the very start.

  "What are you here for?" Priscilla snarled at him. "Hoping to get the last laugh?"

  Sebastian's expression was solemn. He glanced at the disheveled woman. Her eyeliner was smudged. Her waterproof mascara held on. Her hair was a mess. She went through trouble, but rained hell on a budding couple.

  Impressive. But crazy. And stupid.

  "No," Sebastian calmly said. He held out a grey handkerchief.

  Priscilla blinked towards the material in disbelief. Grey like his heart. His hands. His suits. He never wore color. He was always a neutral shade of white and black, the perfect color—grey. She was reminded of the grey smoke of Kaden's cigarettes, the storm clouds that rolled over the city, and the ashes that fell to the ground.

  "Collect yourself," Sebastian reminded her. "And depart with the small pieces of dignity you have left. You're now a Senior Vice President. Behave like one."

  Priscilla was fuming at his words. She glared at him deeply.

  Priscilla didn't need him to tell her that. Even so, she snatched the handkerchief from his fingers, blew her nose into it, and then stormed to him. He didn't flinch despite her sharp and swift actions. Staring into his eyes, she saw he was just a walking shell. His face was blank, but his gaze appeared defeated and hurt. Like she had done something to offend him. But she didn't understand what it could be.

  Priscilla's breath hitched. Sebastian looked like he had gone through all seven stages of grief at once. But his stare was hard. And centered on her.

  "Screw you," Priscilla snarled. Then, she shoved his dirty handkerchief upon his chest and stormed off.

  Sebastian was left standing before the crumbled handkerchief. He stared at it with disapproval for himself. He should've turned a blind eye and left. He should've let her cry her way out of this office. Instead, he came back for her.

  What an idiot he was.

  So, Sebastian bent down and picked up the discarded fabric, and pretended their exchange did not happen. For the hundredth time, he denied the sparks between them. And for the hundredth time, he said what he always said to her.

  "You're an idiot."