Chapter 6

Ivy struggled to open her eyes. It took a while before her vision focused once again.

She turned her stiff neck, little by little.

The hospital ward was very quiet.

No one was there.

Her throat was painfully dry. She tried to sit up for water, but the moment she moved, it felt like her body was starting to fall apart. Sharp pain shot through her bones, especially her back and the leg that had been pinned under the debris.

The door opened softly.

Caesar's secretary, Morgan, walked in with a folder in his arms.

"Ms. Rivers, you're awake?" Morgan hurried over. "You've been unconscious for three days. The doctor says you have multiple soft tissue injuries and a mild concussion. You need plenty of rest."

Ivy opened her mouth. "Where is he?"

Awkwardness flickered across Morgan's face as he pushed his glasses up.

"Mr. Shepherd flew out yesterday afternoon and took Ms. Lane to Alpsland in Northvia. The auction was scheduled a long time ago, and Ms. Lane was really looking forward to it. Mr. Shepherd didn't want to disappoint her, so… If you need anything, just tell me. I'll handle it. He has authorized me to do so."

Even though Ivy's heart had been dying for a long time, hearing it still felt like someone drove something sharp into her heart. The pain still spread.

She had thrown herself in front of falling debris to save him.

She had nearly died.

And yet, he hadn't even waited by her bed for her to wake up.

Pain, when pushed far enough, turned into numbness.

She looked at Morgan and nodded slowly and said hoarsely, "I understand. Thank you."

Morgan seemed to relax. He set the folder and a few health drinks down on the bedside table, repeated the doctor's instructions, then left in a hurry.

The room went silent again.

Ivy leaned back against the pillow, staring for a long time before she finally reached for the phone beside her.

The bright red notification on Facebook glared at her. She tapped on it without thinking.

Her feed was flooded with Florence's updates.

Grids of photos appeared.

Luxury first-class cabins. A hotel terrace overlooking Skyburg's beautiful lakes and mountains. The inside of an auction house.

Florence smiled sweetly, leaning into Caesar's side in every shot. Caesar turned toward her, his eyes full of tenderness Ivy had not seen in a long time.

[Caesar says the cheese fondue here is the most authentic.]

[The sunset in Alpsland is so beautiful! Of course, it still can't compare to the sunset someone gave me.]

The photo showed a massive diamond necklace Caesar had given her.

[Ahhhh! I never thought he'd really bid for this emerald jewelry set for me! He said it matches my temperament.]

The photo showed a set of masterwork jewelry set studded with emeralds.

Each post drove another spike into Ivy's heart, a thorn in her eyes.

The last update was from an hour ago.

No long caption. Just a close-up photo.

Two hands overlapping on a table.

The hand underneath was slender and well-defined. Caesar's.

The hand on top was delicate and fair. A blazing pink diamond ring sat on the ring finger.

The caption was only two words, but it tore straight through Ivy's last line of defense.

[I do.]

Ivy knew that pink diamond.

Back when they had flipped through the auction catalog together, Caesar had pointed at that stone and whispered in her ear, "Ivy, this one's the best. It suits you. When it's our hundredth proposal, I'll use it to propose to you."

So the hundredth proposal hadn't been late. He was simply proposing to someone else.

Ivy's heart felt like it was being squeezed by an icy grasp and then shattered. It was so painful that she folded in on herself. Tears spilled out, soaking the pillow in seconds.

She lay alone in the cold hospital room.

On her phone screen, financial and entertainment headlines kept flashing across the headline.

[Shepherd Group CEO spends a fortune to please his beloved!]

[Expensive pink diamond appears at Alpsland auction! Likely to be Mr. Shepherd's token of engagement!]

[A live Cinderella story? Caesar Shepherd has a new love and may be heading for the altar!]

Every word mocked the decade she had spent with him, turning them into a cruel joke.

Over the next few days, it felt like Caesar had disappeared. Not a text. Not a call. It was like Ivy didn't exist.

Florence, though, kept posting more photos, like she was afraid Ivy might forget.

The two of them hug at the foot of the snowy mountains.

Spoon-feed each other at an upscale restaurant.

Hotel selfies with Caesar's sleeping face blurred in the background...

-

A week later, Ivy was discharged.

Her visa approval sat quietly in her inbox.

She stood at the hospital entrance and pulled out her phone. After a long hesitation, she still dialed Caesar.

It rang for a long time before someone finally picked up.

Noise swelled in the background, like he was at some bustling event.

"Hello?" His voice sounded distracted, with a hint of annoyance at being interrupted.

"It's me." Her voice was hoarse.

"Yeah? What is it? The doctor said you can be discharged? Have Morgan pick you up," he said quickly.

"When are you coming back?" she heard herself ask.

There was a short pause. Florence's soft, coy voice drifted through. "Caesar, who is it? Come on, this is really delicious!"

Caesar was pulled away from the phone, but his indulgent tone still leaked through. "It's nothing important. You eat first."

Then his voice became clear again, filled with irritation.

"Florence isn't done having fun yet. She wants to stay a few more days. There's also a meeting regarding a merger I need to attend here. I'll come back soon. You go home first. If you need anything, tell Morgan."

Standing on the crowded street with the phone in her hand, Ivy let out a quiet, self-mocking laugh. "Alright."

She ended the call.

The last trace of hope went out for good.

She went back to the villa.

The place she had lived for a decade. The place she had once believed to be her home.

She started packing, taking only the documents she truly needed.

In the end, she went into the study and sat at Caesar's wide desk. She pulled out a clean sheet of paper and picked up the fountain pen he used most.

The pen tip hovered over the page for a long time.

There were so many things she wanted to say that were stuck in her chest.

In the end, she wrote only a few short lines.

She folded the letter, slipped it into a plain envelope with no name, and set it in the most obvious spot on the desk.

When she was done, she stood up and grabbed the handle of her old suitcase as she looked around the house one last time.

Then, she turned and closed the door.

The lock clicked softly.

It shut out the past.

And shut out everything.