6

“Damn you, Lyra!”

Ciara stared angrily at the pre-wedding photos the photographer had just sent. Besides the photos of her with Damien, there were also photos of Lyra with the man she loved.

She had tried to keep Lyra from coming. She had even hoped the session could take place without Lyra’s presence. Yet that woman still came.

And what annoyed her even more was that she had no idea where Lyra had gotten a new dress.

Ciara clenched her hands. She did not like the fact that her plan had failed. More than that, she did not like seeing Lyra standing beside Damien in a wedding dress.

Ciara, who was about to head to Sofi’s room, suddenly stopped when Lyra’s bedroom door opened. She saw Lyra standing near her books. In her hand was a small ceramic figurine. Lyra stared at the figurine for quite a while, then ran her fingertip over its surface before placing it back where it had been.

There was something in Lyra’s gaze that made Ciara know the object was not merely a decoration. Ciara narrowed her eyes. If the object meant so much to Lyra, perhaps it would be satisfying if Lyra could no longer have it.

But ... how?

When a servant approached Lyra’s room, Ciara immediately hid. However, she could still hear what was happening.

“Miss Lyra, Mr. Damien asked you to meet him in the garden. He said there are a few things he wants to discuss regarding the wedding day.”

Lyra sighed softly. She actually did not want to see Damien again after what had happened at the photo venue, but since the conversation was related to the wedding, she finally nodded.

“All right.”

Lyra left her room without realizing that a few moments later, Ciara returned there. Ciara’s gaze immediately fell on the ceramic figurine Lyra had been looking at earlier. She picked it up, then smiled faintly before carrying it toward the garden.

When Ciara arrived, Lyra was talking to Damien. Ciara approached while carrying the figurine in both hands.

“Lyra.”

Lyra turned and was immediately startled to see the object Ciara was carrying. “That ... where did you get it?”

Ciara smiled faintly, ignoring Lyra’s question. “I want to ask you for something.”

Lyra looked at her warily.

“Soon we’ll be getting married, and after that, we may truly go our separate ways. So I want to have one keepsake from you.”

Ciara’s gaze fell on the figurine in her hands. “I want this.”

“But why?” Ciara’s voice began to tremble. “Soon you’ll be getting married, and I’ll have a life of my own too. After that, we may not be able to spend much time together anymore. I just want to have something that can remind me of you.”

Lyra stared at the figurine. There was a reason she did not want to give it away. It was not merely a keepsake. She had kept it because she wanted to hold on to it until the wedding day, then give it to Damien as a sign that she had truly let him go.

But there was no way she could explain all of that to Ciara.

“I can’t give it to you. The figurine is mine.”

Ciara lowered her head. Her eyes began to well up.

“Then it’s okay. I won’t force you.” She wiped the corner of her eye. “I just thought that maybe you’d also want to give me something before we’re no longer the way we are now.”

Damien, who had been silent all this time, finally spoke. “Lyra.”

Lyra turned to him.

“Just give it to Ciara.”

Lyra frowned. “Damien, it’s mine.”

“I’ll replace it with a new one.” Damien’s gaze fell on the figurine in Ciara’s hand. To him, it was nothing more than an old ceramic figurine. “Just give it to Ciara. She’s only asking for one keepsake from you.”

Ciara wiped the corner of her eye. “You don’t have to, Damien.” She looked at the figurine still in her hand. “I think this figurine is very important to Lyra.”

Damien once again had to hold back his emotions because of Lyra’s attitude. “What exactly do you want?” he asked, his gaze sharp as he looked at Lyra. “Why are you acting like this? Can’t you just give in to Ciara?”

Lyra let out a sarcastic laugh. “What else am I supposed to give in on, Damien?” She stepped closer and stood directly in front of Damien. “Do you want me to list all the things I’ve sacrificed for Ciara?”

“Lyra,” Ciara immediately looked at Lyra pleadingly. “Please, don’t act like that with Damien. I won’t ask for anything anymore—”

“No, Ciara,” Damien interrupted immediately. “Give the figurine to Ciara, Lyra. Besides, that figurine doesn’t mean anything to me. You’re the one making too much of it.”

Lyra stared at Damien with an indescribable look. How could Damien say that? When he knew how hard Lyra had tried to make that figurine.

Even the object that held sweet memories of her and Damien was regarded by him as nothing more than an ordinary object. It had no meaning to him, allowing him to so easily ask her to hand it over to someone else.

Especially to Ciara.

“I said no.”

Ciara lowered her head. “Then it’s okay. I won’t force you.” However, when she was about to hand the figurine over, her hand was still holding on to it.

“Ciara.”

“I just want to look at it one more time,” Ciara pleaded softly.

“Give it to me.” Lyra pulled at the figurine, but Ciara did not immediately let go.

“I won’t break it,” she said softly.

“Let go.” Lyra’s tug caused the figurine to shift between their hands. Then, just when Lyra was almost able to take it, Ciara suddenly let go.

Crash!

The figurine fell and shattered on the floor.

Lyra froze.

She stared at the ceramic shards beneath her feet. The object she had carefully kept all this time, the object she wanted to use as a sign that she had truly let Damien go, was now shattered just like that.

“Ciara.” Lyra’s voice trembled with anger.

“I didn’t mean to,” Ciara said quickly. “I really didn’t mean to.”

“You did it on purpose!” Lyra stepped forward and raised her hand in anger. But before her hand could reach her, Damien caught her wrist.

“Lyra!”

He pulled Lyra’s hand and pushed her body away from Ciara.

Lyra lost her balance, and her hand landed directly on the ceramic shards. “Ah!”

Pain immediately pierced her palm. One of the sharp pieces cut her skin, and blood began to flow.

Damien was startled when he saw her. “Lyra, your hand—” He was about to approach, but Ciara pulled his arm first.

“Damien.” Ciara’s voice trembled, her eyes welling up again. “I really didn’t mean to break it. I only wanted to ask her for one keepsake.”

Damien turned to her. “Don’t cry. It wasn’t your fault.”

“But I’m sure Lyra hates me now.” Ciara lowered her head, letting her tears fall. Damien finally sighed and patted her shoulder.

“Forget it. Don’t think about it.” He then put his arm around Ciara and hurriedly left the place, leaving Lyra injured.

Once again, Lyra laughed bitterly. Blood was still flowing from her hand, but Damien had already turned all his attention back to Ciara.

Lyra lowered her head and began picking up the ceramic shards scattered on the ground. Her fingers touched another sharp piece, making the wound on her hand sting even more, but she continued picking them up one by one.

The figurine was indeed already broken, but at least she still wanted to take the remaining pieces home.

“Why are you still picking up something that’s already broken?”

Lyra’s hand stopped.

Before her, the first thing she saw was only the tips of a pair of polished black leather shoes. The shoes looked expensive and well-maintained, standing so calmly among the ceramic shards scattered across the garden floor.

Lyra slowly looked up. Her gaze moved from the shoes, past the neatly pressed trousers, until it finally stopped on the figure of a man standing several steps in front of her.

He was tall and well-built. His face was stern, with a strong jawline, while a pair of dark eyes stared at Lyra coldly. His gaze was sharp, as though he could make anyone feel uncomfortable simply by looking at them.

There was an air about him that suggested he did not like being disturbed, let alone wasting his time on something unnecessary.

Leonel Hastring.

Lyra stared at him without blinking.

“Nothing that’s already broken can be repaired.” Leonel extended a hand toward her. “It’s better to replace it with something better.”

Lyra stared at the hand extended before her, then looked back at Leonel’s face. For several seconds, she even forgot about the pain in her hand.

Leonel looked at her calmly before finally asking, “You ... are the one who will be my bride?”

His gaze remained fixed on Lyra.

“Lyra Hart?”