Chapter 3

"Enough! Stop talking about him, alright? Naomi, don't you realize he's already taking over your mind?" I barked, looking at her with sheer helplessness.

Naomi froze. A flicker of panic crossed her eyes, slowly giving way to a dazed look.

But her tightly pressed lips told me that she, too, realized that Bryson was slowly seeping into her mind, like a gentle spring rain.

Suddenly, Naomi dug her nails hard into her own arm, leaving bloody scratches behind.

As beads of blood welled up, the confusion in her eyes hardened into resolve.

"That won't happen again, Kenneth," she said. "This is the last time."

With bloodshot eyes, I painfully reached out to cover her wounds, but Naomi threw her arms around me and promised, "I won't mention him again, Kenneth. I won't. I'll keep my distance from him from now on."

The desperate madness in her devotion made me believe neither of us would ever let go of the other.

After that day, I never heard Bryson's name from Naomi again.

But fate was a stubborn thing.

Naomi wasn't about to abandon a research project she was halfway through. She was the type to never let go once she committed to a goal or a person.

As a fellow member of her group, Bryson was constantly in her orbit.

When they went out of town for a research seminar, it just so happened that some issues flared up at my company's overseas branch. I had to fly abroad to handle the business.

By the time I saw Naomi again, she seemed like a completely different person. She was locked in Bryson's embrace under a streetlight.

Something inside me snapped. Rage surged through me, making my heart pound so violently it felt like it would burst from my chest. It felt as if I could hear the heavy ticking of destiny correcting its course.

The biggest weakness of 20-year-old me was that I could never stay calm when it came to Naomi.

My hands curled into fists, and I threw a punch right into Bryson's eye, forcing him back a few steps.

Naomi shoved me away and immediately rushed over to support him.

There was no longer any room for me in her eyes.

Even breathing brought a sharp pain to my chest.

Naomi pressed her hands together, frantically apologizing to Bryson. The latter just offered her a helpless smile without a word and turned to leave.

The moment he was gone, Naomi snapped at me, "What is wrong with you? How can you just hit him without even asking what happened?"

I looked at her and asked, "Naomi, have you fallen for him?"

She looked blank for a second before saying softly, "Kenneth, don't overthink this. Bryson's grandmother just passed away today, and he was grieving."

I let out a bitter laugh and gripped her hand.

Refusing to give up, I went to confront Bryson. I demanded fiercely, "You know Naomi and I are together. Why do you keep throwing yourself at her?"

The usually gentle Bryson shed his smile, and his gaze turned ice-cold.

He stared at me with a disdainful smirk. "Because I'm the male lead. I get whatever I want. Naomi's life will only reach perfection if she's with me. You, on the other hand, are doomed to love her in vain."

As his words fell, my eardrums felt as if they were pierced. A deafening ring drowned out the world.

At 21, I was still a short-fused wealthy heir who had never been provoked like this before.

So, I hired some guys to corner Bryson, wanting to threaten him into leaving Naomi. The first thing I got in return was a biting warning from her.

By the second time, all traces of love for me had vanished from Naomi's eyes, replaced entirely by an icy disgust.

She resolutely took Bryson's hand, then had her bodyguards corner me in an alley and beat me down into a corner with batons.

She handed the baton to Bryson and said softly, "Bryson, give him a taste of his own medicine."

Bryson acted the part of the reluctant gentleman. He tossed the baton aside and took her hand. "Naomi, we shouldn't sink to his level."

Naomi let out a cold sneer at me, then turned away and left hand in hand with Bryson.

Hearing her blatant disgust felt like a thousand knives tearing through me.

It was our family butler who eventually found me curled up in that alley later that day.

That night, as I drifted in and out of consciousness from the pain, I thought I saw Naomi sitting by my bedside.

Frowning, she brushed her hand against my cheek with absolute heartache. She muttered, "Kenneth, this isn't right. This is all wrong."

But I was too exhausted to open my eyes.

When I woke up again, the room was empty, leaving me to believe it had all been a dream.

After that, I became unhinged.

I tried every desperate measure to win Naomi back.

But all it got me was her drifting further and further away and her memories of our past growing dimmer by the day.

She began to view me as a control freak, claiming she couldn't breathe under the weight of my possessiveness.

When Naomi finally demanded a breakup, I tried to threaten her with my life.

Naomi, who used to hate seeing me with even a scratch, handed the knife to me that day. The words that left her mouth filled me with sheer terror.

She smiled cruelly as she gave me the knife. "Fine by me. You'd better die thoroughly and stop appearing in front of me and Bryson."