Four Loveless Years, One Unforgettable Goodbye

Bryan's voice hit Willa like a bolt of lightning.

Her shoulders stiffened as she spun around, hastily scooping up the pills and curling them into her palm.

Bryan's voice came lazy and edged. "What is it? Something you don't want me to see?"

Her pulse fluttered. Meeting his chiseled, composed face, she forced her tone steady. "It's nothing important."

His brows drew together, disbelief darkening his expression.

"That's the emergency contraceptive," he stated flatly. "So tell me, are you sneaking around with another man behind my back? Or should I be generous and stock your drawer with condoms next time?"

The chill in his voice sliced through the air, his eyes cold and unrelenting as they pinned her in place.

For a split second, Willa stood frozen, thoughts spiraling in every direction. The pills weren't just for contraception—combined with misoprostol, they could induce an abortion.

Bryan had clearly misunderstood the situation.

Willa forced a composed smile and said lightly, "Yeah, they're birth control. I was going to use them with you—but since you've got Miss Wall, should I still bother?"

Her tone was airy, and her fingers brushed his chest with a feigned playfulness, the movement clumsy.

Bryan didn't stop her. He simply watched, eyes narrowing with faint amusement, as if testing how far she'd take the act.

Catching the curl of mockery at his lips, she knew the charade had run its course. Pretending any longer was useless.

"You look like you're expecting something," she said with a brittle laugh. "Too bad—I was only teasing, and you actually believed it."

Her bravado faltered when she caught the chill in his gaze. Weighing her chances, Willa lowered her head, her voice softening into reluctant apology.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, forcing a calm tone. "You should stay loyal to Miss Wall. It was out of line for me to disrespect your relationship."

With quiet precision, she dropped the pills into the trash.

Bryan's lips curved into a faint, mocking smile. "You fed me poison last time," he sneered. "When does it take effect? When it does, I'm dragging you down with me."

Her lashes lowered, hiding the turmoil in her eyes. Now, she felt a sharp regret for her recent provocations. One careless move from Bryan could bankrupt Fletcher Group. One word from him could open the doors to the hospital ward her grandmother so desperately needed.

Forcing a gentle tone, she said, "They're not poison—just vitamins. You've been low on trace elements lately, judging by those dry lips. Wouldn't want Miss Wall tasting dead skin the next time you kiss her."

Then Willa handed him a small tube of lip balm.

Bryan's gaze hardened in an instant, his face turning to ice.

Realizing the shift in atmosphere, she quietly stepped aside, keeping her head low.

Outside, Jarrod hurried up with a stack of folders and greeted Bryan just as he came out.

"You've already signed the partnership with Fletcher Group. Should we keep the project running?" he queried, testing the waters.

Bryan's irritation lingered, his eyes cold as he ignored the question entirely.

"Mr. Scott, did your wife rough you up again? Lucky for you, I've got some miracle ointment—let me dab a little on. Works like a charm." Trying to sound casual, Jarrod slipped out a small tube from his pocket.

Bryan exhaled sharply through his nose. "If your eyesight's failing that badly, schedule an ophthalmology appointment before you embarrass yourself further."

Jarrod thought bitterly that if anyone needed an eye exam, it was Bryan himself. Still, he kept the remark buried, knowing one wrong word could pierce Bryan's fragile pride. Even he could tell—Willa's gaze held a raw tenderness no act could fake. Only someone hopelessly in love would look at a man that way.

Bryan's phone buzzed, drawing his focus back. He glanced down at the screen, his expression softening as he typed a reply.

Caylee held a special place in his life, one steeped in guilt and obligation; after all, he owed her more than he could ever repay. Watching over her forever didn't seem excessive.

Meanwhile, Caylee lay weak and pale against her pillow, her fingers tracing the edges of a photo on her phone.

She and her brother, Felix Wall, had grown up in the Scott household—half-servants, half-companions—bound to Bryan by years of shared youth.

Felix had once thrown himself into danger to protect Bryan, and when he drew his final breath, he'd clutched Bryan's hand, pleading for him to look after Caylee.

From that moment, Caylee had believed she was destined to become Mrs. Scott.

Yet Cody's interference had ruined everything, forcing Bryan into a marriage with Willa and crushing every hope she'd nurtured.

Gripping her phone, she called Caitlin, her voice trembling with barely contained desperation. "My belly's getting bigger every day. What am I supposed to do when it shows? When will Bryan and Willa finally get divorced?"

Caitlin let out a sharp breath, masking her irritation. "It looks like we'll have to wait a little longer. No need to stress. I'm with you all the way."

But even as she said it, Caitlin knew it wouldn't be simple. She loathed Willa, that thorn in her side, and feared she might claw her way into the family fortune. Whether Caylee's unborn child truly belonged to Bryan didn't matter to her at all.

When the call ended, a dark gleam flickered in Caylee's eyes. She composed herself, typed out a carefully worded message to Bryan, and invited him to dinner.

...

Willa scoured rental listings online until she found a trustworthy agency and secured a modest apartment near the hospital, convenient for looking after her grandmother.

The agent soon called. "Mrs. Scott, the lease is ready. Could you meet the landlord at the café to sign? He's catching a flight overseas in a bit."

Willa agreed without hesitation, gathered her papers, and hurried out.

The landlord turned out to be a courteous middle-aged man with kind eyes, preparing to move abroad with his wife to join their son, who had settled down with a family in Ustrijan. He wanted to lease out the apartment before leaving, and the rent was surprisingly fair.

Willa uncapped her pen, poised to sign, when the café door swung open. A noisy group of young men and women swept in, bursting with loud chatter and playful banter.