Liam Winston had been pampered since childhood and never endured such brutal punishment. Though Mr. Winston Sr. had just been discharged from the hospital, his aged body remained sturdy—each strike of his cane landed precisely on the most painful joints.
Liam's face paled with pain, his forehead beading with cold sweat. Sophia Sullivan stood nearby, her expression detached, as if the entire spectacle had nothing to do with her.
"Get out! Both of you, get the hell out!" Mr. Winston Sr. roared, shoving them out the door before collapsing into a chair, panting heavily.
Sophia handed him a glass of warm water and gently patted his back. "That snakewood cane has been with you for years. It'd be a shame to break it over something like this."
Liam, still scrambling to his feet, nearly stumbled again at her words. In her eyes, was he worth less than a piece of wood?
"I just hate seeing you like this," Mr. Winston Sr. murmured, his eyes reddening. A man who had weathered decades of ruthless business battles without shedding a tear now felt nothing but shame for raising such an ungrateful wretch.
Not only had Liam betrayed the woman who once saved his life, but he had also disgraced the Winston family's most honored benefactor.
"Once you leave... will you ever come back?"
Sophia gazed at the old man's silver-streaked hair, a pang of sorrow flickering in her chest—but it was quickly replaced by relief. She had never believed the Winstons owed her anything. A life saved, a debt repaid. That was all.
"You know me," she said carefully, choosing her words to soften the blow. "I despise loose ends."
"Though my ties with Liam are severed, you will always have my respect. If you ever need anything, don't hesitate to reach out."
That promise—"don't hesitate to reach out"—was both an assurance and a farewell.
The old man knew her too well to argue. With a heavy sigh, he let her go.
After exchanging a few more pleasantries, he insisted on walking her to the gate. Watching her emerald-green figure fade into the twilight-drenched garden, he whispered to himself:
"What a damn tragedy..."
Outside the estate, Chloe Evans clung to Liam's arm, her eyes brimming with tears. "Liam, this is all my fault. If it weren't for me, Grandpa wouldn’t have been so furious..."
"Don't blame yourself," Liam murmured, stroking her hair before pulling her into an embrace. "Grandpa's stubborn. Once he gets to know you, he'll see how wonderful you are."
His long-lost first love was finally back in his arms—he should have been overjoyed. Yet Sophia's indifferent silhouette in that green dress lingered in his mind, an unwelcome ghost.
The woman who used to be there whenever he turned around was now walking away without looking back. An inexplicable panic gripped him, as though something vital was slipping through his fingers.
No. Chloe was his true love.
He tightened his hold on her and took her hand. "Let's go back to Green Lake Villa. Your old room is ready."
But when they arrived at the villa's entrance, they froze. Several burly men in black were hauling out furniture and belongings, clearing the place as if preparing for an exorcism.
"Last load!" the foreman barked.
Liam stood rooted to the spot, watching helplessly as every trace of Sophia was systematically erased. The blue-and-white porcelain vase she adored, the custom-tailored shirts she had sewn for him, even the wallpaper she had painstakingly selected three years ago—all gone.
The villa, once vibrant, now stood hollow—a soulless shell.