《Where the Moon No Longer Shines》
Every time Matthew Lawrence hurt her, Cassandra folded a star.
One day, Matthew asked her what the stars meant. With a playful tone, Cassandra replied, “When you’ve hurt me 100 times for your dear Julia, Cassey, who loves you, will cease to exist.”
At first, he laughed it off, thinking it was just one of her silly little games.
But the 100th star came faster than anyone expected.
That day, Matthew had gone to a love hotel with Julia, supposedly to retrieve her lost dog. He left Cassandra, still groggy from anesthesia, alone on the cold operating table. Later, when confronted, he had the audacity to smile and say, “Cassey, don’t be upset. Julia’s just a dog—she’ll never be qualified to compare to you. You’re my Mrs. Lawrence. Now and forever.”
Cassandra responded with an indifferent nod, hiding the storm brewing inside her. Only she knew the truth: she had already arranged for her “death.” She was leaving—for good.
Chapter 1
Every time Matthew Lawrence hurt her, Cassandra folded a star.
One day, Matthew asked her what the stars meant. With a playful tone, Cassandra replied, “When you’ve hurt me 100 times for your dear Julia, Cassey, who loves you, will cease to exist.”
At first, he laughed it off, thinking it was just one of her silly little games.
But the 100th star came faster than anyone expected.
That day, Matthew had gone to a love hotel with Julia, supposedly to retrieve her lost dog. He left Cassandra, still groggy from anesthesia, alone on the cold operating table. Later, when confronted, he had the audacity to smile and say, “Cassey, don’t be upset. Julia’s just a dog—she’ll never be qualified to compare to you. You’re my Mrs. Lawrence. Now and forever.”
Cassandra responded with an indifferent nod, hiding the storm brewing inside her. Only she knew the truth: she had already arranged for her “death.” She was leaving—for good.
——
“Cassey, are you absolutely sure you want to fake your death and take on this final undercover mission?” Ban Richard’s voice crackled through the phone, heavy with concern.
“Yes, I’m sure,” she said firmly, standing on a desolate, windy street. Her voice sounded as hollow as she felt.
The decision was made the moment she woke up on that cold operating table and saw Julia’s smug post on social media:
The police had been searching for someone to infiltrate a transnational telecom fraud ring and Cassandra’s clean record made her the perfect candidate. She agreed without hesitation. This mission wasn’t just about justice; it was her escape.
Her way to leave Matthew with a lifetime of guilt.
***
When she returned home that night, drenched from the rain and shivering, Matthew rushed to her side. He dropped an important meeting without a second thought, pulling her into his arms with such desperation it was almost laughable.
“Where’s the driver? How could he let you come back like this?” he demanded, his voice trembling. His usually composed demeanor was in shambles. Even the female executives on the video call couldn’t help but remark on how lucky Cassandra was to have a man so devoted to her.
And it was true, in a way. Matthew loved her—or at least, the version of her he believed he loved. He knew her allergies, cleaned her room daily for ten years and once braved a storm to bring her purple roses for Christmas. When she had an accident, he raced through torrential rain, his cries of “Cassey, wait for me!” echoing through the night.
But that same man had betrayed her three months ago. She had walked in on him and Julia, their intimacy undeniable. From that day forward, every time he hurt her, she folded another star.
***
Now, as she stared at the jar filled with 100 stars, she felt a strange sense of closure. The stars weren’t just a symbol of her pain—they were her countdown. And now, the countdown was over.
Soon, Matthew would lose her forever. Not to death, but to the shadows where she could finally find peace. She wasn’t the naive girl who believed in his sweet words anymore. She was Cassandra: resilient, determined and ready to start over.
Even if it meant leaving behind the love that had once consumed her.
Chapter 2
She found them. Not just anywhere, but in an hotel, barely a kilometer away from her.
At that moment, Cassandra felt her heart break completely. The fragile thread of hope she had been clinging to snapped.
When she returned, drenched in the rain, everyone expected her to break down. To throw herself into Matthew's arms and sob, demanding answers. But she did none of that.
Instead, she hid her wounds deep inside and walked away, silent and alone.
Matthew, on the other hand, had already rehearsed his excuses. He had assumed that Cassandra would react as she always did: throwing a tantrum, questioning him and crying about why he had abandoned her. Perhaps she’d remind him of the time he left her alone at the hospital for "urgent business matters." But this time, she didn’t.
Expressionless, she brushed past him. Her voice was eerily calm.
"No harm done," she said. "I just felt like walking in the rain."
She didn’t even take the towel he offered. Instead, she lowered her gaze and slipped out of her wet, ill-fitting high heels.
For the first time, Matthew was taken aback. Cassandra’s quietness unsettled him. He reached out again, his voice soft, coaxing.
“If you want to get wet in the rain, then let me join you.”
She let out a bitter laugh and sidestepped his outstretched hand. Her words were cold, detached.
“No need.”
Then, she added, as if sealing their fates, “There’s no need… not anymore.”
Her indifference sent a jolt of panic through Matthew. He froze. He’d never seen her like this before. For the first time, he didn’t rush off to his pressing meeting or heed his assistant’s calls. Instead, he stayed by Cassandra’s side, desperate and uneasy. His voice trembled as he whispered:
“Cassey, did I… do something wrong?”
Cassandra’s gaze met his. The man who once treated her like his everything—the man who claimed he couldn’t live without her—now only looked repulsive to her. She clenched her fists, trying to steady her voice.
"Were you with Julia today?"
The question dropped like a heavy stone in a still lake, shattering the silence.
Matthew’s face darkened. His voice, low and defensive, broke the tension.
"Did Julia fill your head with nonsense again? Cassey, listen to me. I was heading to a meeting when she insisted on getting in my car. She said she was looking for her dog… What was I supposed to do? Kick her out?"
He sounded guilty, his words rushed and uneven.
“We’re all in the same circle of friends. You know how it is. It would’ve been rude to refuse.”
He hesitated, then softened his tone.
“Cassey, believe me. There’s nothing between us. It was just a ride.”
Cassandra understood perfectly now.
Matthew’s voice turned tender as he leaned closer. His gaze, full of affection, sought hers.
“Cassey, don’t worry. Julia is nothing compared to you. She’s not worth it. In seven days, we’ll be engaged. Trust me, okay? You’re my Mrs. Lawrence… the only one I’ll ever love.”
Cassandra smiled faintly, but her eyes remained calm, distant. How could someone love her so wholeheartedly with one half of his heart while tearing her apart with the other? His assurances sounded convincing, but to Cassandra, they were just words—empty, meaningless.
She gave no answer.
Chapter 3
Only Cassandra knew the truth: the organization had arranged for her to fake her own death. There would be no engagement, no future with Matthew. Seven days from now, on their engagement day, all he would receive was the news of her "death" in an explosion. There would be no body left to bury.
The next morning, the nanny greeted her with an update.
“Mr. Lawrence worked late into the night after his meeting. He’s worried about you, afraid you’d do something rash. He barely slept on the sofa outside your room and left early this morning to buy your favorite lasagna jars.”
Cassandra stirred her cup of milk, her expression blank. This was just like Matthew. The ruthless businessman, feared in the corporate world, would transform into a doting boyfriend at home—cooking for her, pampering her, rubbing her feet. He was attentive to the point of perfection.
When Matthew returned, carrying the lasagna jars, the nanny couldn’t help but sigh.
“Mr. Lawrence is such a good husband to be. I’ve never seen a man this considerate.”
Cassandra forced a polite smile but said nothing. Even as they sat across from each other during breakfast, an unusual silence lingered between them.
Finally, Matthew broke it. His gaze was intense, his voice low but tinged with vulnerability.
“Cassey, please don’t interact with that punk anymore, okay?”
His words took her by surprise, but he continued, softening his tone.
“Every time I see him giving you something, I’m terrified. I’m scared you’ll leave me for him.”
A bitter smile crossed Cassandra’s lips. The "punk" he was referring to was actually his estranged half-brother, Thomas lawrence. Disguised as a man, Thomas had been searching for his sister while secretly working as an informant for the White Team—a role Cassandra couldn’t reveal to protect her identity.
Three months ago, Matthew had caught her with Thomas. Despite her explanations, he hadn’t believed her. That night, he had drowned himself in alcohol and slept with Julia.
At a party later that evening, Julia arrived uninvited, her entrance drawing everyone’s attention. Her dress clung to her figure, the marks on her skin visible beneath the thin fabric. Cassandra felt Matthew stiffen beside her, his breath hitching as Julia sauntered into the room.
Once, he had scorned Julia, warning Cassandra to avoid her. Yet now, his contradictions spoke volumes. Cassandra’s heart ached as she realized the depth of his betrayal.
Chapter 4
Cassandra couldn’t remember how things had spiraled to this point. When had their lives become entangled enough for her to end up sharing a bed with Matthew? Yet, the moment seemed less like intimacy and more like a cruel joke when Julia walked into the party.
Her arrival sent ripples through the lively gathering, silencing the room. Whispers accompanied knowing glances and some guests were even dragged away by their girlfriends, all too familiar with Julia’s reputation. Julia, with her striking allure and unabashed confidence, thrived on chaos. She had woven herself into the lives of many men in the room, leaving trails of gossip and envy.
Yet, when Julia’s gaze landed on Cassandra, her lips curved into a smile that was more predatory than friendly.
“Cassey, I envy you so much,” Julia cooed, her voice dripping with mock sweetness. “To have a fiancé no one else can steal.”
Her words carried a dangerous edge as she sat down opposite Matthew, her movements deliberately provocative. The party resumed, but Cassandra noticed the tension in Matthew’s demeanor. His usually calm and commanding presence faltered as he suddenly lowered his head, suppressing a grunt.
“What’s wrong?” Cassandra asked, concerned.
Matthew hesitated before raising his face. His composure returned quickly, though a faint redness lingered on his skin.
“I’m fine,” he replied with a forced calmness. But Cassandra caught the way his eyes flashed with anger, shooting daggers at Julia, who was now laughing uncontrollably.
The laughter only grew louder as Julia leaned against her friend, her dress slipping dangerously low. It was then that Cassandra’s gaze fell beneath the table and her blood froze. Julia’s high-heeled foot was shamelessly sliding along Matthew’s leg.
Matthew’s face was a mask of stoicism, but the redness creeping to his ears betrayed his discomfort. Cassandra’s fury boiled over.
“What do you think you’re doing?!” she snapped, her voice sharp enough to draw attention.
Julia’s grin widened, unapologetic. Before Matthew could respond, Cassandra bolted from her seat, her chair scraping loudly against the floor. Her heart was pounding as she stormed into the restroom, splashing cold water onto her face. But no amount of water could cool the searing betrayal she felt.
As she passed the men’s restroom on her way back, muffled voices caught her attention.
“I’m the one who fits you best, am I not?” Julia’s flirtatious tone was unmistakable.
Cassandra froze.
“Someone like her couldn’t handle you,” Julia continued, her voice laced with seduction.
Matthew’s growl interrupted her. “Enough! Shut up, Julia!”
But Julia’s laughter echoed, her words a dagger to Cassandra’s heart. “Matt, don’t deny it. You know I’ll always belong to you.”
The world around Cassandra blurred. She stumbled outside, her limbs numb. Rain poured down, soaking her as she wandered aimlessly. She wasn’t sure how long she walked until the screech of brakes jolted her back to reality. A car had stopped inches away from her.
“Are you trying to get yourself killed?!” the driver yelled before speeding off. Cassandra didn’t respond. Perhaps she was, in a way. For how else could she explain her foolishness in loving someone like Matthew?
As if the night hadn’t punished her enough, a thief snatched her bag, shoving her into a puddle. Drenched and alone, she sat on the shore until dawn, her mind as turbulent as the crashing waves. She felt like a ghost—lost, homeless and invisible.
Chapter 5
When daylight broke, Cassandra was greeted by an unexpected sight. Cabs lit up across the city with glowing messages on their dome lights: [Cassey baby, go home!]
The words followed her everywhere. Giant screens on buildings displayed the same plea:
[Cassey baby, waiting for you to come home!]
Even the radio broadcasted the desperate announcement:
“Dear Ms. Cassandra, your fiancé Mr. Lawrence is searching for you. Please contact him immediately at 156…”
Cassandra’s lips curled into a bitter smile. The rain poured harder as she trudged back, wondering what Matthew’s reaction would be when her “death” was announced in a few days.
As she approached the house, Matthew burst through the door, his eyes wild with desperation. He grabbed her, pulling her into a bone-crushing embrace.
“Cassey! Cassey…” His voice cracked. “Do you have any idea how worried I was? I thought… I thought you’d been taken, or worse!”
His trembling hands cupped her face as tears streamed down his cheeks. The sight of him, this powerful man reduced to a vulnerable state, would have once broken her heart. Now, it only filled her with emptiness.
Two trembling drivers stood in the living room, their relief palpable at her return. Behind them, two beaten thieves lay bloodied on the floor, moaning in pain. Matthew’s voice turned cold as he promised, “Anyone who dares harm you will face my wrath.”
Cassandra’s hollow laughter filled the room. “What if the person who hurt me… is you?” she whispered under her breath, too soft for him to hear.
Half an hour earlier, Julia had sent her a message, her words venomous:
“Cassandra, it must be hard. Even when Matthew sleeps beside me, he calls out your name.”
Attached was a recording—a damning, explicit proof of their betrayal.
Cassandra didn’t cry. She didn’t scream. Instead, she saved every message, every piece of evidence. One day, these would become the knives she would plunge into Matthew’s heart.
***
Four days remained until the engagement. Cassandra accompanied Matthew to the hospital for a routine check-up. He promised her he wouldn’t leave her side this time. But halfway through, his phone began vibrating incessantly.
“Ignore it,” he said, silencing the call. But the phone continued buzzing. Ten minutes later, the hospital staff grew irritated, forcing him to step outside.
When he returned, his face was grave. Cassandra’s heart was already bracing for another betrayal.
Chapter 6
The call came abruptly. Matthew's brows furrowed as he glanced at his phone, a tension tightening around him.
“There’s an issue with the company,” he muttered, his voice unusually low. “I need to go.”
Cassandra barely had time to process his words before he bolted out the door, jacket forgotten on the chair.
She stared after him, the sting of abandonment all too familiar now. Alone in the sterile hospital room, she tried to focus on the doctor’s words: the polyp removal had been a success. Yet, it felt like more than just a surgery. Something else had been severed—her faith, her love, her heart.
Her steps echoed hollowly in the hospital corridors as she wandered aimlessly. But at the far end of the hallway, her world tilted.
Matthew stood there, supporting Julia, who was leaning against him with exaggerated frailty. They emerged from the obstetrics and gynecology department, their connection impossible to mistake.
Julia spotted her first. With a coy gleam in her eye, she wrapped her arms around Matthew’s neck. The tenderness Cassandra thought was hers alone spilled effortlessly into Julia’s embrace.
“Matt,” Julia purred, her voice sugar-coated poison, “I was heartbroken when we lost the baby. But it’s okay—we’ll have plenty of children in the future.”
Cassandra’s breath caught in her throat. Julia’s gaze locked on hers as she pressed her lips against Matthew’s. He didn’t push her away—just stood there, frozen and absent-minded.
Then, like a snap of a whip, he grabbed Julia by the collar, his tone venomous. “If you ever go near another man again, I’ll break your legs.”
Julia’s lips curved into a wicked smile, her voice sickly sweet as she nipped playfully at his ear. “Don’t worry. I’ll be your loyal woman forever.”
It was like being plunged into a glacier. Cassandra’s mind reeled, her body numb. The wind outside howled as she staggered blindly through the halls, feeling as though the universe itself had lost its love.
***
Later that evening, Cassandra met Mr. Ban in a dimly lit corner of the city. The plan for her staged “death” was almost finalized.
“It’s all set,” Mr. Ban said, his tone clipped. “The explosion will take place at the abandoned chemical factory on Mavel Street.”
Cassandra nodded. Coincidentally, Mavel Street was where Julia had once paraded her affair with Matthew. It felt almost poetic to choose that location.
She returned home to find Matthew planning their engagement with feverish dedication. Every detail, from the venue’s decorations to the engraved ten-carat pink diamond ring, was handpicked by him.
At the jewelry store, as the staff fawned over the massive diamond on her finger, Julia appeared, her arrival as brazen as always.
“Whoa,” Julia said, her tone dripping with mockery. “What a beautiful ring. Why didn’t Mr. Lawrence give one to me?”
Matthew’s eyes darkened. “You have no right to compare yourself to my fiancée. Get out before I have you thrown out.”
But Julia only smirked, dodging his attempt to retrieve the ring from her grasp. Her laughter was a dagger, her next words aimed to wound. “It seems Mr. Lawrence’s stamina isn’t what it used to be. Poor Madam Cassey must be so disappointed.”
Cassandra clenched her fists. She smiled coldly, her voice sharper than steel. “You’re right, Ms. Julia. The ring you’re holding is pretty. But it’s superficial—likely to leave scars before it ever feels comfortable. Unlike the timeless piece I have, which endures.”
She turned to Matthew, her voice softening as she addressed him. “Don’t you agree, Matt?”
Matthew froze, startled by the term of endearment he hadn’t heard in months. A flicker of emotion crossed his face, a mix of longing and disbelief. “Yes,” he murmured, his voice barely audible.
That night, Cassandra’s suspicions were confirmed when she saw Julia’s post online: a picture of her flaunting a ten-carat pink diamond identical to Cassandra’s, along with the caption, "Ten-carat diamonds—so ordinary, right?"
But what truly broke her was the engraving on Julia’s ring: Love never fails. Matt Bros will always love Julia.
Matt Bros. The name Matthew had used before they met. The name tied to the darkest chapter of his past.
Cassandra stared at the words, each one cutting deeper than the last. Love never fails? How cruel, then, that hers had been left to bleed dry.
Chapter 7-8
The engagement day loomed closer, yet Cassandra felt like a ghost haunting her own life. Every step she took was weighed down by the growing arsenal of evidence against Matthew. She would endure this betrayal for now, but when the time came, she would strike with precision.
It wasn’t long before Julia found another chance to flaunt her dominance. At the engagement venue, she sauntered in, dressed to turn heads, her every move a deliberate challenge to Cassandra.
“You look lovely today,” Julia sneered. “Though I must say, age doesn’t flatter everyone.”
Cassandra’s smile didn’t waver. “And you’re as bold as ever, Ms. Julia. I do hope you’re enjoying your youth—it fades so quickly.”
The tension was palpable, a storm brewing between them. But Cassandra didn’t care. She had already decided. Soon, neither Julia nor Matthew would have any power over her.
As she watched Julia prance about with her usual arrogance, Cassandra thought of Mavel Street and the explosion waiting to erase her from this nightmare. A bitter smile tugged at her lips.
Just a little longer.
Perhaps Matthew had been bound to Julia long before Cassandra even stepped into his life. Time seemed to freeze as this realization hit her, a crushing weight settling over her heart. It wasn’t pain—no, it was something heavier, something suffocating. If Matthew and Julia had known each other for so long, then what were these seven years between her and him?
A bitter laugh escaped her lips. Seven years... a cruel joke.
On the second-to-last day before the engagement, Matthew took Cassandra to The Lawrence Family residence for an evening of opera with his parents. The melodious singing filled the room, but Cassandra struggled to stay awake. The heavy atmosphere only amplified her restlessness, so she stepped outside to clear her head.
As she checked her phone, her eyes froze on a post from Julia, uploaded just a minute ago: “Boyfriend is so annoying today, insisting on taking me to meet his parents.”
The location? Near The Lawrence Family mansion.
Her fingers went numb as her mind spun. Her breathing quickened as her phone buzzed again. Another notification—this time, a private message from Julia.
“Guess where I am.”
Attached was a photo. The angle was unmistakable; it was taken inside the opera house, from under the same red silk-covered table Cassandra and Matthew were sitting at earlier.
Cassandra’s heart pounded as panic set in. A moment later, she felt a strange sensation—a hand brushing against her leg beneath the table. Her breath hitched as she froze in disbelief. It wasn’t Matthew. Her wide eyes darted to him, only to see his face darkened with anger. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, repeatedly trying to push away the hand that persisted. Julia, bold and unashamed, was under the table.
Cassandra’s body trembled with fury. She slammed the table, her voice breaking the tension in the room.
“Housekeeper! There seems to be a rat under the table!”
Gasps rippled through the audience. The housekeeper approached hesitantly, but before he could lift the tablecloth, an authoritative voice rang out.
“I’ll handle it,” said Aunt Lawrence, stepping forward. Her calm, commanding demeanor silenced everyone.
Aunt Lawrence bent down, her gaze piercing as she lifted the tablecloth. Seconds felt like hours. Her expression shifted subtly, but she quickly straightened, brushing off the incident.
“There’s no rat. Just a few pesky mosquitoes. Nothing to worry about,” she said with feigned composure.
Before Cassandra could protest, Aunt Lawrence pulled her aside, murmuring about leaving early. Cassandra’s confusion deepened as the event unfolded. What game was Aunt Lawrence playing? And why was everyone, even the servants, complicit in covering up Julia’s outrageous behavior?
Later that night, Cassandra stood alone in her room, staring blankly at her phone. A new message appeared from Julia:
“He says I’m not worthy of stepping into The Lawrence Family home. Funny, isn’t it? Because tonight, I showed him exactly what he needs the most: me. Not you.”
Her chest tightened, her grip on the phone unsteady. For the first time, she realized the depth of her isolation. Everyone around her—the servants, Aunt Lawrence, even Matthew—had known. They had all been in on this cruel game, leaving her to play the fool.
Chapter 9
The next day, Cassandra woke with a chilling determination. If this engagement was to end, it wouldn’t be quietly. Her revenge wouldn’t come in screams or tears. No, it would be colder, more calculated.
That morning, she clung to Matthew’s arm, her eyes teary as she begged him not to leave her side.
“Can’t you stay with me today?” she whispered, her voice trembling. It was a rare moment of vulnerability and Matthew, caught off guard, softened instantly.
“Of course,” he murmured, turning off his phone to assure her of his attention.
But beneath her fragile demeanor, Cassandra was already plotting. She returned two texts to Julia while pretending to nap:
“You’ll never have Matthew. Give up before it’s too late.”
“I still love him—like the wind that travels 8,000 miles without asking for a return date.”
The lies tasted bitter on her tongue, but they served their purpose. By evening, Cassandra had set her plan into motion. Matthew, distracted by her uncharacteristic affection, had no idea what awaited him.
***
The final day arrived.
Matthew’s phone buzzed relentlessly throughout breakfast. Cassandra smiled sweetly as she reached out to hold his hand. “Ignore it,” she pleaded.
Reluctantly, he agreed, silencing the device. For a fleeting moment, he allowed himself to believe in her love again. But Cassandra knew better. She had seen through the lies long ago. Her revenge wasn’t just for herself—it was for every moment he had made her feel small, unwanted and replaceable.
As the day wore on, Cassandra excused herself to the garden, her mind racing with thoughts of the engagement. Her phone buzzed, this time with a damning message from Julia:
[Your precious Matthew? He told me he’d rather have no child at all than adopt one with you. Funny how he didn’t mention that to you, isn’t it?]
Cassandra’s vision blurred with rage as she remembered the doctor’s words after her accident:
“Ms. Cassandra, the damage to your organs means you may never have children.”
Matthew’s refusal to consider adoption had once seemed noble. Now, she saw it for what it was—a selfish excuse to keep her bound to his empty promises. Tears stung her eyes, but she refused to cry. If Matthew had stolen her love, her pride and her future, she would make him pay in kind.
And as she stood there, surrounded by blooming flowers, Cassandra vowed that her final act would leave a scar on Matthew’s soul—one he would carry for the rest of his life.
Chapter 10
“Cassey, don’t worry. I’ll stay right here with you in the car. I’m not going anywhere.”
Cassandra allowed herself to relax, her lashes fluttering closed.
At that moment, Matthew didn’t know—couldn’t have known—that he would spend a lifetime regretting those words. Words that would come to haunt him, as they ultimately led to Cassandra’s demise.
He had seen her take the sleeping pills, the smooth, practiced motion of her hand as she swallowed them. But it didn’t alarm him. Lately, she often complained about sleepless nights, so it seemed logical to him—a harmless attempt to rest.
With a sense of misplaced ease, Matthew turned on his phone. Instantly, it lit up with a flood of notifications: messages and missed calls from Julia.
Matt, you’re not going to leave me, are you?
Matt, I’ll be good! I’ll obey you and never look at another man again. Please don’t abandon me…
Matthew! You were the one who sought me out, who begged me to stay! Is this what you wanted?
Matthew’s pulse quickened, his heart pounding as he scrolled through the sea of texts. Then, the most recent message—timestamped just twenty minutes ago—froze him in place:
Matthew, I’ve slit my wrists. If you’re going to leave me, I’ll make sure you spend the rest of your life in agony, knowing you drove me to my death.
Attached was a photo. Julia lay in a bathtub filled with crimson-stained water, her slackened expression framed by bloodied wrists. The bright red cuts were jagged and visceral, searing themselves into Matthew’s mind.
His breath hitched. Heart hammering, he bolted toward the hotel, but something made him stop short. A sense of foreboding gripped him as he turned back toward the car.
Quietly, he retrieved Cassandra’s bottle of sleeping pills. After handing strict instructions to the driver to stay with her and ensure her safety, he ran off toward Julia.
When he found her, she was alive but hysterical. Screaming. Crying. Her emotions were a storm, threatening to consume everything in their wake.
“You want me to go to the hospital? Fine!” Julia shrieked. “But only if you promise to marry me!”
Matthew clenched his jaw, anger simmering beneath his calm façade. Yet, as Julia’s cries grew louder, he relented. He called for an ambulance and even summoned a driver to help.
“This will only take a moment,” he muttered to himself. “It’s just one block away from Cassey. She’ll be fine.”
Together, they lifted Julia into the ambulance. As they secured her, she coughed violently, blood staining her lips.
“The patient is in a critical emotional state,” the paramedic warned. “It’s best if someone stays with her to keep her stable.”
Matthew hesitated, one foot already out of the ambulance. He looked back toward the direction of Cassandra’s car, visible through the small window at the rear. To his relief—or so he thought—he saw the vehicle moving steadily down the street.
But then, his gaze shifted.
Walking in front of the car was a figure with bright yellow hair—Thomas. The man strolled casually, occasionally glancing back toward the car with a smirk of familiarity.
Matthew’s chest tightened, his mind clouded with a sudden, irrational storm of jealousy and betrayal. She didn’t even wait for me to leave before running to him?
The bitterness in his throat burned as he lowered his eyes, suppressing the turmoil within. After a long pause, he gave the driver an order in a voice low and cold.
“Follow them. Make sure she stays safe.”
And then the ambulance sped off.
***
Minutes later, just as they were leaving Mavel District, a deafening explosion shook the ground beneath them. The sound was overwhelming, a monstrous roar that seemed to split the sky. Flames and thick smoke erupted in the distance, rising like an inferno against the horizon.
Cassandra stood outside her car, staring at the towering blaze with an unflinching gaze.
The chemical factory had gone up in flames.
She looked one last time in the direction where Matthew had disappeared, her eyes reflecting neither sorrow nor anger—only a quiet, unshakable resolve.
As the car door closed behind her, it severed the last fragile thread tethering them together.
“Matthew,” she whispered to herself, her voice soft but resolute, “after tonight, the paths we take will never cross again. Yours is a road of endless regret, while mine leads to a place where you no longer exist.”
