The Storm Came Before You

“Nobody in this world can remain dependent on one party forever. My parents aren’t well, and I need to go back to my hometown for a blind date and get married. Since Mr. Quinn has approved it, I’ll carry through with the proper handover process. I’ll be leaving in a month. Thank you.”

After hanging up, Yara Summers went back to packing her things.

She had lived in this villa for three years. She did not have many belongings, but they had piled up over time. She kept only the essentials and got rid of the rest.

As the room slowly emptied, she froze for a moment. A flood of memories came back to her.

Eight years ago, Yara, a girl from a modest family in a small town, got into Highton University. There, she became best friends with Yelena Quinn, the heiress of a wealthy family in Jadewood.

Despite coming from very different worlds, the two girls clicked instantly. They went to class together, ate together, shopped together, and spent every day together.

Gradually, Yara was drawn into Yelena’s world. She met her family and fell in love with her brother, Marcus Quinn.

But she kept her feelings to herself and never told anyone.

After graduation, Yelena went abroad to study.

Yara remained in Jadewood and applied for jobs. She became Marcus’ secretary just so she could see him often.

One day, something unexpected happened. Marcus was drugged.

Yara was about to call the hospital when he lost control and pushed her against the wall. He kissed her fiercely.

After a night together, she woke up and saw him sitting by the window. His strong features were shrouded in a cloud of smoke. He seemed calm and lonely.

When he heard her move, he turned and asked one question.

“Do you like me?”

Yara instinctively wanted to deny it, but he spoke calmly.

“You blush every time you see me. You remember all my rules and preferences. The moment you graduated, you came to work as my secretary.

“Don’t tell me it was all a coincidence.”

Every word made her face flush. It was impossible to tell if the feeling came from embarrassment or guilt.

As the silence hung in the air, he suddenly handed her a card.

“Last night was an accident. I have someone I like. I won’t return your feelings, and I can’t be responsible for you. Yelena told me you came from a middle-class family. The money on this card is enough to support you for the rest of your life. Forget all of this.”

Yara froze. Last night, she remembered him calling a name over and over in bed.

Quiana. Quiana Xanthe.

According to Yelena, Quiana was Marcus’ first love. He could never forget her.

He loved her so much that even after she broke up with him and moved abroad, with one rumored boyfriend after another, he still waited for her to come back.

Yara remembered Yelena once complaining about something.

“Everyone in the Quinn family is cold and detached. How did my brother become such a lovestruck fool? He has waited for her for years. He says anyone else would be settling for less, and he refuses to do that.”

Yara felt those words deeply. The memory suddenly gave her the courage to call out to Marcus before he walked out.

“I don’t want the money. I only want a chance. Mr. Quinn, please give me a try. If she never comes back, please be with me. Or… if she returns and you still can’t let her go, I’ll leave.”

Marcus paused for a few seconds at the sight of the love in her eyes. He said, “Do as you wish,” and walked away.

From that day on, she was his secretary by day and his lover at night.

They left traces of their reckless nights everywhere: the office, his car, the villa’s floor-to-ceiling windows.

Four years passed. No one knew about their relationship, and she accepted it without complaint.

A few days ago, on his birthday, Yara prepared many surprises. She wanted to celebrate with him.

But by midnight, he still had not shown up. Instead, she saw a post on his social media.

[The best birthday gift is getting back what was lost.]

Marcus, who never posted anything online, shared a photo of himself kissing Quiana under a sky of fireworks.

Seeing the photo, Yara’s face went pale, and her chest tightened.

She clung to one last shred of hope and called him.

Quiana answered the phone. She said hello several times, but Yara did not respond. Quiana called out to Marcus.

“Marcus, who’s this Yara? She called you and isn’t saying a word.”

A moment later, Marcus’ low, indifferent voice came through the speaker.

“She’s no one important. Don’t worry about her. Be good and go back to sleep.”

At that moment, Yara knew it was time for her to leave.

She packed her things and was about to leave when she ran into Marcus at the doorway.

Since they had been sleeping together, Yara stayed at his villa every night to make things easier. But she could no longer stay.

He saw her holding her things. His gaze lingered for a moment, but he did not stop her. “Have you found a place?”

“Yes. The same apartment as before. I told the landlord I would rent it for a month.”

Marcus frowned at her words. “A month? Why only a month?”

Yara was about to explain it, but Marcus did not seem interested. He said in a low tone, “I’ll drive you.”

She wanted to refuse, but he insisted.

“The snow is coming down hard, and it’s late. If something happens to you, Yelena will be upset.”

Yara had no choice but to get in the car.

They had done countless reckless things in this car before, but she could hardly recognize it anymore.

The seats had been replaced with cute covers. Plush toys were everywhere, and snacks filled every corner.

She could hardly imagine that someone as decisive and restrained as he would decorate a car like this.

Marcus saw her looking at him and explained, “Quiana likes these things.”

Yara understood what he meant. After a long silence, she said softly, “You finally got her back. Mr. Quinn, I’m happy for you.”

Marcus had not expected her to say that. His eyes darkened slightly, and he said nothing.

Halfway through the drive, Quiana called and said she wanted to build a snowman with him.

He pulled the car over. He wanted to head there right away, but he glanced at Yara and hesitated.

Yara understood what he was hesitating over and opened the door herself.

“Mr. Quinn, I’ll take a cab back.”

Marcus hummed in acknowledgment and got out to help carry her things.

Her hand slipped, and a suitcase fell to the ground. He bent down, and when the streetlight revealed the scattered items, he froze.

There were love letters addressed to him that she had never sent, photos she had secretly taken of him, and little things he had tossed that she had kept.

Her heart pounded as she frantically picked everything up.

“Sorry.”

Marcus said nothing. He got back in the car alone and sped off.

Yara waited alone in the snow for a long time, but no cab came.

She tried to carry her suitcase home, but a motorbike hit her.

A deep gash about 10 inches long ran down her lower leg, and blood flowed onto the ground.

She watched the motorbike speed off. Pain shot through her, and she stayed on the snow for a long while, unable to recover.

When the pain finally eased, she limped through the snow for four hours to reach her rented apartment.

After tending to her wound, she checked her phone and saw a message from Marcus sent after he left.

[Don’t throw yourself completely at someone again. There are plenty of men out there. Don’t pin all your hopes on me.]

Yara stared at the message for a long time.

At dawn, she went downstairs and set the entire suitcase on fire.

The burning love she had carried for eight years also turned to ashes.

Yara only had one thought.

‘Marcus, I’ll do as you wish.’