ログインSix years later.Time, which many believed could heal wounds, had instead carved Ricardo’s deeper.The world around him had changed in countless ways. New buildings rose where empty land once existed. Businesses expanded and collapsed. People entered his life and left again. Seasons passed in their endless cycle, indifferent to human grief. Yet, despite all the changes, one truth remained constant.Ricardo was still unmarried.The vast mansion he lived in remained as grand as ever, its polished floors gleaming beneath expensive chandeliers, its walls decorated with rare artwork collected over generations. But beneath the wealth and luxury, the house felt hollow.It had never truly recovered from Amelia’s absence.At first, Ricardo had believed he would find her quickly. He had resources others could only dream of. Influence. Connections. Money. Power. There were very few things in the world that he could not obtain if he truly wanted them.But Amelia was the exception.He had searched
Ricardo stood frozen in Amelia’s bedroom, the brown envelope still clutched in his hand. The Divorce Agreement, her signature, the date—it was all too real. It hit him with the weight of inevitability. She had left. She had taken control of her life in a way he had never imagined she could. And now, for the first time in his life, he felt helpless.His fingers tightened around the papers as panic slowly began to rise. He needed to reach her. He had to know where she was and is she was safe. He pulled out his phone and dialed her number instinctively.But it was wasn't going through“Switch off,” Ricardo muttered under his breath, his jaw tightening. A cold sensation spread through his chest. She had made sure he couldn’t reach her, at least not immediately.With a deep breath, he shoved the phone into his pocket and left the room. He had no plan yet, but standing still wasn’t an option. He needed to think, and thinking meant movement.Ricardo made his way outside, into the quiet drive
Amelia stood quietly in the dim light of her bedroom, her gaze fixed on the man sleeping on the other side of the bed. The curtains were only half drawn, allowing a faint silver glow from the moon to spill across the floor. Ricardo’s breathing was steady, deep and unguarded, his face relaxed in a way she rarely had the chance to see. In sleep, he looked younger. Softer. Vulnerable.For a fleeting second, she almost allowed herself to crawl back beside him, to press her face into his chest and pretend that nothing had changed. Pretend that last night had not been born from pain, confusion, and alcohol. Pretend that when morning came, he would wake and look at her with certainty instead of restraint.But everything had changed.Carefully, so as not to make a sound, she slid off the bed. The cool marble floor beneath her bare feet grounded her racing thoughts. She wrapped her robe tightly around herself before walking toward her dressing table.Her fingers trembled slightly as she opened
Amelia sat alone at the dining table, staring blankly at the untouched dishes that still remained. The once warm and inviting atmosphere had long disappeared, replaced by a suffocating silence that pressed against her chest. The faint metallic scent of blood seemed to linger in the air, though she knew it was only in her mind, a cruel reminder of what had happened just hours ago.Ricardo had rushed Stella to the hospital without hesitation.The image replayed endlessly in Amelia’s thoughts—Stella collapsing, Ricardo catching her, the panic in his voice as he called for help. And just before Stella’s body went limp, there had been that smile. A brief, cruel, victorious smile that no one else had noticed.Amelia clasped her trembling hands together on her lap, trying to steady herself. Her fingers felt cold despite the warmth of the room. She inhaled deeply, but the air felt too heavy to breathe properly, as if guilt and accusation had filled every corner of the house.She knew the trut
Stella was visibly shocked by Amelia’s words. For a brief second, her confident expression cracked, and uncertainty flickered across her face. Of course, being on Ricardo’s bad side was the last thing she wanted.She had spent years trying to earn his trust, his attention, and perhaps even his affection. If Ricardo ever found out that she had exposed the truth about the contract marriage to Grandpa out of jealousy, he would never forgive her. The mere thought of him looking at her with disappointment—or worse, disgust—made her chest tighten painfully.Ricardo valued loyalty above everything else. He despised manipulation and betrayal. If he believed she had deliberately hurt him or tried to control him by dragging Grandpa into the matter, he would cut her off without hesitation. Stella knew that. She understood him well enough to predict that outcome clearly.Thinking about it made her even angrier.How dare Amelia use Ricardo against her? How dare she stand there so calmly, speaking
“That witch!” Stella cursed under her breath, her fingers tightening around the steering wheel as jealousy burned fiercely inside her. “I’m sure she has brainwashed Ricardo!” she shouted angrily, her voice filling the car. The thought of Amelia standing beside Ricardo, carrying his name and living in his house, made her blood boil. “Well, I’m going to show her what kind of witch I can be too,” she muttered darkly, pressing harder on the accelerator as the car sped forward.The city lights streaked past her window, but Stella barely noticed them. Her mind replayed recent scenes over and over again. The way Ricardo had defended Amelia without hesitation. The way his voice softened slightly whenever he spoke to her. The subtle warmth in his eyes that Stella had never seen directed at herself. Each memory felt like a sharp needle piercing her pride.She had known Ricardo for years. She had been there during family gatherings, business celebrations, quiet conversations that stretched late







