"Believe me or not, Celine, I don't care. I can't live without you anymore. I'll wait for you, as long as it takes for you to give me a chance to make it up to you, to love you."

Dante knew she wouldn't forgive him now. But as long as she was still around, as long as he could see her, he was willing to wait. He'd wait for her.

Celine wasn't exactly the forgiving type, especially not for a guy with a rep like his.

She offered a small, tight smile, looking him dead in the eye. "Dante, you were head-over-heels for Isabella. You waited three whole years for her, and all that time, you were basically using me as your emotional punching bag. So, what did Isabella give you in the end?"

"Newsflash, Dante: I'm Celine Evans. I don't do leftovers. Just because Isabella didn't want you, does that mean I'm supposed to jump at the chance?"

"What makes you so scoop-worthy?"

"Don't you get it? The second I paid off that debt for your parents, I just wanted to be done with you. So if you think you love me, then stay the hell away from me."

Dante was floored. He had nothing to say. What he'd done and said to her back then was a thousand times worse.

He opened his mouth, but the agony of being speechless left him shaking.

He’d thought he was numb after his breakdown a few days ago, that he'd cried himself out. Facing Isabella, he'd felt nothing.

But turns out, he could still feel pain. It wasn't numbness; it was just that the person mattered more than the circumstances.

"Celine, I..." He wanted to defend himself, but as he opened his mouth again, he realized there was no defense. These were his mistakes, after all, weren't they?

"Dante, I told you before I left. I'm done taking care of you. I just want to live my own life. I've even gone through hypnosis to try and erase those unbearable memories. Don't you understand? How much I detest those three years."

"So from now on, please, just stay away from me. For my sake. Give me a way out. Stop making me feel sick."

With those parting words, Celine walked out of the office.

Only when she stepped outside the corporate building, feeling the warmth of the winter sun and the crisp air, did the weight in her chest lighten.

She was finally completely free, wasn't she?

The truth about Dante's parents' car accident was out, and Isabella and Archer Reynolds were out of her life.

She could finally just be herself, no longer forcing herself to do things she didn't want to.

This was the true liberation she craved.

Three Years Later, Williams Group CEO's Office.

"Mr. Williams, Mr. Reynolds' wedding is tonight at 7 PM. Will you be attending?"

The man, buried in a mountain of documents, looked up. The slight glare on his glasses hid his eyes, making his emotions impossible to read.

"What's today's date?" he asked after a beat, addressing the assistant standing respectfully before him.

"The 18th, sir. Shall I book your flight?"

The assistant understood and asked proactively.

The 23rd was the birthday of their former mistress, Celine Evans.

Ever since Celine had jetted off abroad, Dante's schedule around this time every year was non-negotiable.

He'd head out a few days early, prep birthday surprises, deliver gifts from his grandfather, and bring her some goodies from home.

The first year, he didn't just go for her birthday. He couldn't help himself; he visited her every couple of months.

But she wanted nothing to do with him. When she did see him, she'd give him the cold shoulder, shut him down, and tell him to leave.

If he waited outside her place, she'd just slam the door.

If he showed up at her university, she wouldn't even glance his way.

Until that winter, her birthday. He’d started learning to cook her favorite dishes and bake cakes way in advance.

He practiced daily until the housekeeper swore the flavors were spot on.

Then, he rented an apartment near her university and hounded her every single day. Finally, one time, she stopped.

Her face was still etched with impatience, but she was at least willing to listen.

"Dante, you keep showing up. What do you want?"

Honestly, Celine didn't want to talk to him. At first, seeing him daily was just incredibly annoying.

But that year, she was alone in a foreign country, facing completely unfamiliar faces and a strange language every day. Sometimes she hit roadblocks and experienced discrimination. While she could handle it, it made her feel down and lonely.

And then Dante would pop up. Even though seeing him inevitably dredged up those painful memories, sometimes she’d get this weird sense of comfort, that in this strange land, a familiar face brought an indescribable kind of happiness.

So she thought, maybe she should hear him out.

If he wanted to get back together, she'd shut him down.

But if it was just a friendly chat, maybe she was open to it.

"Celine, I..." I miss you so much. I want to hold you, he desperately wanted to say.

But Dante knew if he said those things, Celine would turn and walk away in a heartbeat.

"Your birthday is in a few days. Could we have dinner together? Grandfather sent a gift for you, too."

"Grandfather? Is he here?"