Chapter 4

It wasn't until Logan had disappeared from view that Ivy Brooks sensed something was wrong.

Panicked, she ran back into the banquet hall, wanting to tell Vivian. But Vivian was nestled in Julian's embrace, her eyes brimming with affection, too wrapped up in the moment to notice anyone else.

Ivy told herself it was nothing—that Logan was just pulling another stunt to get her sister's attention.

He loved Vivian that much. Would he really be willing to leave?

She turned to glance at Vivian again. Seeing her sister resting so intimately against Julian, Ivy hesitated. The words never made it out.

The banquet didn't end until late. Only then did Vivian finally notice that Logan was missing.

With her grandmother present, she hadn't dared to leave openly with Julian. And after Logan had embarrassed her in front of everyone, she was determined to have a serious talk with him.

She couldn't risk upsetting Julian again.

She called him repeatedly, but no one picked up. Her brows knitted tighter with every unanswered ring. A strange unease crept up her spine.

What was going on? Logan had never dared ignore her calls before. But tonight, he'd vanished—completely.

Fuming, she rushed home—only to find that every trace of Logan had been erased. His clothes, his belongings, even the faint scent of him that used to linger in the room—gone.

It was as if he had never lived there at all.

For the first time, a flicker of panic lit up in Vivian's chest.

…

Meanwhile, at a hotel, Logan's mother sat weakly at the edge of the bed, dabbing her eyes with a tissue.

"This is all my fault," she said, her voice trembling. "If I hadn't gotten sick, you wouldn't have agreed to marry Vivian. Now you've suffered so much humiliation… it breaks my heart."

Two people. Three suitcases.

Logan suddenly felt like a weed adrift in the wind—rootless, without a home.

He had once made Vivian his entire world. Now, stepping away from her, he felt like a stray dog that had lost its owner.

But he couldn't afford to collapse. His mother still needed him.

For years, she had lived in a property arranged by the Brooks family. Logan had savings of his own, but his sights were set on Marlon City.

Grace had already begun the arrangements.

In twenty-nine days, he would leave this place for good.

"Mom, I'm not suffering," he said gently. "It's just… we'll have to manage in the hotel for now."

Tomorrow, he would go to the Brooks Corporation to submit his resignation.

…

Vivian stayed up all night waiting, but Logan never came home.

She stormed into the office next morning, only to be handed his resignation letter. The suddenness left her stunned.

Overnight, Logan had become someone new—a stranger in a black overcoat, expression sharp, demeanor icy. His tone was all business, as if their three-year marriage had never happened.

"Vivian," he said crisply. "All handovers are complete. Here's my resignation. Please sign."

Vivian didn't even glance at the document.

Her beautiful eyes locked onto his, disbelief curdling into scorn. "What game are you playing now, Logan? Of all days, you pull this today?"

Each word cut deeper.

He thought he was numb. But seeing that look in her eyes—the woman he'd loved—still felt like a knife twisting in his chest. His breath caught. His scarred heart bled fresh.

"Sign it," he said at last, voice low and strained. "Let's end our working relationship."

'Just like this sham of a marriage,' he thought silently.

For the first time, Vivian felt cornered by him. Her eyes swept over his face, now void of warmth, and she sneered. "Fine, Logan. Don't come crawling back later."

She signed with a flourish.

Logan exhaled—finally able to breathe.

Would he regret this?

Logan had lost count of how many times he had been enamored by her face, from its youthful innocence to the kind of beauty that could make countless men's hearts race.

Yet all these years, no matter how hard he tried, Vivian had never truly seen him.

He was exhausted.

Sometimes he wondered: If they'd never met, would his heart hurt this badly?

But there was no way to know the answer.

Their marriage had seemed fated. That resemblance to Julian had saved his mother's life.

The gratitude he'd once felt now burned as hatred.

"Vivian."

Just before leaving, Logan's voice finally softened.

She thought he'd come to his senses, that he was ready to admit fault—so she prepared to scold him triumphantly.

But Logan simply looked at her, calm and composed, and said quietly, "I wish you happiness."

Four words.

Four words that carried the weight of their entire relationship.

Vivian's mouth opened. Nothing came out. The light seemed to dim around her as Logan—who'd once worshipped her—finally shut her out of his gaze.

It wasn't until he walked out of the Brooks Corporation building that Logan finally tasted what freedom felt like.

He'd lost the love of his life.

But at last... he was free.

…

That night, Vivian came home unusually early.

But the house—once warm—felt even darker, emptier than the day before.

Because of her strict cleanliness, she'd never allowed a housekeeper. Every meal, every chore, every detail of the home had been handled by Logan.

Now that he was gone, the space felt hollow.

She clung to one fragile hope: maybe this was just another one of his moods, a temporary absence to test her. Surely he'd come crawling back once he cooled off.

Just then, her phone chimed.

[Viv, I'm outside your door. I miss you so much.]

Vivian tapped on the message hurriedly.

It was from Julian.

A flicker of disappointment crossed her face before she opened the door. There he stood in a fitted shirt, black suitcase in hand. He pinned her against the wall immediately, kisses hot and demanding.

"I heard you two split up. From now on, let me take care of you."

His words moved her to tears.

But when Julian carried her to bed, Vivian instinctively pushed him away.

She froze.

She didn't know why, but something about his touch repelled her. It didn't feel right.

She opened her mouth to explain, but Julian beat her to it, gently patting her back as he spoke.

"It's okay, Viv. I know you're hurting right now. I'll wait. However long it takes, I'll wait."

His words were gentle, but in the darkness, his eyes glinted coldly.

By dawn, Vivian's phone was flooded with missed calls—eighteen in total—and over thirty voice messages.

She was fully awake now.

[Ms. Brooks, we have a problem. The partner is demanding that Logan personally oversee the project before they sign. They said they've only worked with him from the start and won't accept anyone else.]

[Ms. Brooks, they said if we don't respond today, the deal is off. Accounting ran the numbers. We're looking at seven-figure losses...]

Vivian stared blankly at the screen.

What was going on? Hadn't the project already been handed over? Had Logan sabotaged her? That bastard!

She dialed frantically—call after call—but every one went straight to voicemail. Only then did the truth hit: this wasn't a ploy. Logan was really gone. Really... leaving her.

"What's wrong?" Julian asked, wrapping his arms around her from behind.

Vivian's palms had begun to sweat. "I need to find Logan."

At the mention of that name, Julian's arms slipped away.

"We're together now," he said coolly. "Why are you looking for that substitute? Have you fallen for him?"

"No! It's not like that!" Vivian quickly explained, "Something happened at the company. I need him to come back and take care of it. Just wait here, okay?"

She scrambled to get dressed, barely combed her hair, and rushed out the door.

But as she rushed out, a cruel realization struck: she didn't know where to look. She barely knew Logan at all.

The company was pressuring her relentlessly. In the past, no matter what happened, Logan had always shielded her, taking the brunt of every storm.

But now, with the mess laid bare before her, she realized she couldn't fix any of it on her own.