Chapter 183

Myron held Brandon against the wall with one hand.With the other, he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and shoved it roughly into Brandon's mouth.

He jammed it in again and again.

"Filthy mouth like yours," he said. "Needs proper cleaning."

Brandon struggled violently. The two were evenly matched,but he finally managed to free one arm.

He ripped the handkerchief out and spat bloody saliva onto the floor.

They locked eyes, breath heavy, tension thick between them.Then Brandon laughed.

He lookedat Myron like he was seeing through him."What, that made you angry?" he sneered. "I only said the truth. Everyone in Crobert knows I was her husband. What's the point of all this?"

Myron's voice turned colder. "Everyone also knows you're divorced."

He pressed Brandon harder against the wall. "My feelings for Millie don't change because she was once married to you. If anything, I'm glad you lost her."

Brandon opened his mouth to reply, but Myron didn't give him the chance. He pushed harder, locking him in place.

"I don't talk about her the way you just did. Not to you,not to anyone."

He looked Brandon straight in the eye. "She hasn't agreed to be with me. Yes, it was just a meal. But that doesn't matter."

Myron's voice remained steady. "She walked away from you. And now she chooses to spend time with me. That's the reality-that's what matters. The woman you couldn't cherish, the one you tossed aside like nothing-she's a treasure to me. And not just to me." He leaned in slightly. "You made your choice, Brandon. You don't get to be possessive anymore. Especially not toward someone who no longer belongs to you."

With each word, Brandon's face grew darker.

Finally, he broke free of Myron's grip.

The two stood across from each other, silent in the dim stairwell, eyes filled with mutual contempt.

"She'll come back to me," Brandon said, voice low and raw. His eyes were bloodshot, almost wild. "You don't understand anything. She'll come back.We've been through everything together. You have no idea what that means."

Myron didn't flinch. "Maybe you did go through a lot," he replied. "But you still hurt her. You left her for Vivian. Did you ever stop to think what that did to her?"

He stared at Brandon, unwavering. "Sometimes I can't help but wonder," Myron said. "Did you ever actually love her? If you did, how could you do what you did?"

Brandon looked down. His hair fell over his face,hiding his expression in shadow.

"Don't come back here," Myron said. "Don't showN up at her door again. I'll make sure she's protected.Even if you bring the full weight of the Watson Group against me, I'll still stand right here. I won't let you hurt her again."

Brandon didn't speak. Half his body was hidden in the shadows.

Then, slowly, he lifted his head and looked at Myron.His fists were clenched, and the reopened wounds on his arms were bleeding again.

He studied Myron's face for a long time, as if trying to understand something he couldn't accept. But finally, he shut his eyes.

"You'll never understand," he said. He then turned and walked away.

As he passed Millie's door, he paused. He looked at it for a moment, but then lowered his eyes and walked to the elevator.

The corridor fell silent.

The green glow from the emergency exit sign flickered across his face, painting him in alternating light and dark.

He watched as the elevator descended. Then he bent down, picked up the crumpled handkerchief,and tossed it into the trash.

After a quiet moment, he stepped out of the stairwell and stopped at Millie's door.

He knocked twice, gently.

It opened a few seconds later. Millie stood in front of him.

"It's handled," Myron said with a quiet smile. "He won't come back."

Millie glanced down the hallway, toward the elevator.Then she nodded. "Thank you."

"Get some rest," he told her. His voice was gentle,but he didn't step any closer. "Goodnight."

"You too," she said. "Goodnight."

Then she hesitated and added softly, eyes lowered,"I've said it already, but... thank you again."

This time, hs smile deepened. "You don't have to thank me,silly."

She looked up at him. Under the warm light pouring out from her apartment, he looked calm and steady.Something about it left her feeling unsure of what she was feeling.

"You should go," she said. "Take care on your way back."

He nodded, gave her one more glance, and then turned to leave.

Millie stood at the doorway and watched him en

the elevator. She didn't move for a while.

Only after the doors closed did she slowly turn, step inside, and close the door behind her.

Elsewhere, Brandon sped through the city.

The words Myron had said echoed in his mind, over and over, cutting into him.

Did he love Millie?

Of course he did.

How could he not?

The sound of the car engine felt distant, muffled beneath the weight in his chest.

He drove aimlessly. He didn't know where he was going.

Everything was slipping through his fingers, and he had no way to stop it.

He was in pain-deep, relentless pain-and didn't know how to escape it.

He remembered what he had said earlier, how low he had sunk.

He couldn't stop thinking about her. Her tears. Her laughter. Her shy smile. Her trembling voice whispering his name during long, intimate nights.

How had it all fallen apart?

He didn't even recognize himself anymore.

The city lights faded as he reached the outskirts. The road was empty. He slammed the brakes.

The car skidded to a stop in the dark countryside.Only the sound of insects filled the air.

He leaned forward, forehead pressed to the steering wheel.Tears rolled down his face.

His lowered head brushed the horn. It blared loudly into the empty night.

A long, hollow sound. Like grief, spilling into the void.

"She'll come back," he whispered.

He didn't know who he was trying to convince.

"She hasn't said yes to Myron. She'll come back to me." Again and again, he repeated those words, as if saying them enough could make them true.