It was late.
A Rolls-Royce came to a silent halt in front of the Jenson residence. One of the windows rolled down to reveal Lucas' handsome face staring at the villa, his eyes dark and undecipherable.
He didn't know which room belonged to Chelsey, but the warm light from the villa's windows calmed his heart.
Chelsey had returned to the place where she supposedly belonged. Now, they were two lines parallel to each other and would never cross paths again.
His mind kept replaying the words she had last said to him.
"Lucas, I won't love you anymore," she had said.
"Things have ended between us, so stop harassing me. You've caused me a lot of trouble. Let's not see each other again. Goodbye!"
She'd loved him for ten years, yet he'd hurt her the entire time.
She left him. He had no one but himself to blame. He deserved it.
Suddenly, his phone started ringing. It was Timothy.
Lucas answered the call.
"What is it?"
"You're here in Westine already?"
Timothy's tone was l
