Chapter 17

After hanging up the emergency call, I muted my phone and collapsed into bed.

When I opened my eyes again, my phone screen was flooded with missed calls and messages. Vivian’s chat window kept lighting up with new notifications.

"You actually called the police?" The first message was laced with shock.

"Heartless bastard! All you care about is money!" The second one burned with fury.

"Why are you doing this to me..." The last one trembled with tears.

She’d only made a small mistake—it wasn’t even cheating. Why was I pushing her to the brink?

Before I could finish scrolling, her call came through again.

My finger hovered over the decline button, but in the end, I swiped to answer. Some things couldn’t be avoided.

"Ryan..." Her voice was hoarse, as if scraped raw. "I’ve thought it over."

"You win. I surrender."

"Half the shares, the assets... Just come back, okay?"

I glanced at the calendar and chuckled. "The three-day deadline passed long ago."

"Now, I make the rules."

A violent coughing fit erupted on the other end of the line. When she finally caught her breath, her voice was even rougher. "How... did you become like this?"

I didn’t answer. Hadn’t she done the same when she withheld my bonus and handed my project to Ethan?

People never understood pain until the knife cut their own flesh.

She suddenly laughed, the sound hollow and broken. "I get it now... You never cared about the money."

"Ryan, I barely recognize you anymore."

Another round of coughing, this time mixed with labored breathing. I tightened my grip on the phone, swallowing back the concern that rose in my throat.

"I have a fever..." she murmured abruptly. "In our old house."

"I just bought it back... Now I finally understand how awful it must’ve been for you, sick and alone..."

The sound of drawers being yanked open and shut echoed in the background.

"Those paintings you did... They’re all gone..." Her voice shook. "Did you take them?"

"Or... did you throw them away?"

Like a child who’d lost her favorite toy, she sounded on the verge of tears.

I stared at the darkening sky outside the window and answered softly, "Burned them."

The night the flames swallowed those canvases, I’d buried every last memory myself.