His glare cut into her like a blade, his teeth grinding so hard she could hear it.
"I understand now…" Elena's lips curved into a broken, tragic smile. "Lucian, I'll repay everything I owe you—every last debt."
Before he could move, she turned and hurled herself over the balcony railing.
"Elena—!"
The wind screamed in her ears, carrying his furious roar down with her.
And she laughed. Lucian, if there's a next life, I never want to meet you again.
For all these years of loving you, thousands of nights and days, my heart has bled without rest.
The pain has been endless, unbearable—every moment a torture.
…
She didn't know how long she had been unconscious.
When Elena finally opened her eyes, the sharp sting of disinfectant filled her lungs.
She knew this smell too well. From the day Sean was diagnosed with leukemia, hospitals had become her second home. She didn't even need to look around—she already knew where she was.
"You're awake."
The low, frosted voice slid into her ear. Elena's body jolted, and she turned her head.
Lucian sat beside her bed in a white shirt, its cuffs rolled with careless precision. His long legs were crossed, trousers pressed razor-sharp. He didn't even glance at her, only lowered his lashes, steadily peeling an apple with a fruit knife.
Sunlight poured in through the open window, gilding the edges of his hair and skin with a faint golden glow. He looked like something carved from light itself—handsome beyond words.
But Elena felt no joy, only regret.
She had gambled. Gambled that if she died, maybe Lucian's hatred would die with her, and that he might, out of mercy for what they once had, agree to save Sean.
If he refused, Sean wouldn't live long anyway. Better she go first than watch her brother fade away.
But she had lost that gamble.
She had failed to die—and now life would be worse than death.
Lucian cut the apple into perfect wedges, his slender fingers moving with infuriating patience. Every slice was immaculate, each curve precise. Anything less than perfect, he discarded without hesitation.
What a waste, Elena thought bitterly.
"There aren't any forks here. Use a toothpick."
He set the plate on the bedside table. His gaze finally lifted, sharp and mocking.
"Next time you want to die, climb higher before you jump."
Elena didn't reach for the fruit. She only stared at him.
His eyes were black as obsidian, long-lashed, the kind of eyes that could have stolen countless hearts when he smiled.
But most of the time—like now—they were cold, merciless, every word from his mouth a knife to her chest.
"You think you can play the victim in front of me?"
Lucian narrowed his eyes, voice flat, merciless.
"Three floors up. You were never going to die from that."
Her gaze dimmed with sorrow.
"Forgive me. I didn't think it through. I must have disappointed you, Mr. Sterling. But don't worry…" Her lips twisted into a fragile smile.
"This time, I'll make sure you're satisfied."
Before Lucian could react, she snatched the fruit knife from the table.
One motion—up, then down.
The blade plunged straight toward her heart.
Pain exploded, sharp and searing.
Through the haze, she saw Lucian's face twist with fury, his eyes scarlet with rage. His voice was a snarl, monstrous with hate.
"Elena—you're insane!"
Yes. She was insane. Driven mad by life itself.
She didn't want to die. She didn't want this. But when every path is blocked, when no one leaves you a chance—what else is left?
Her vision blurred. Blood poured from the wound in her chest, staining her clothes, running over Lucian's hand as he tried to wrench the knife from her grip.
The copper taste of blood filled her mouth.
And yet Elena felt no fear. As her vision dimmed, she fought to stay conscious. Her lips trembled, forcing out one last plea.
"Save… my brother…"
Lucian's hand clamped down, his voice a vicious growl that cut through the air.
"Elena, listen to me. If you die, I'll end Sean's treatment immediately. I'll throw him out of this hospital myself."
"You and your brother can go to hell together."
His voice shook with suppressed hatred. But when her body finally went limp in his arms, it broke into a roar.
"Doctor! Doctor—!"
…
Elena dreamed.
She dreamed of years ago, when Lucian rode his bicycle with her clinging to the back, Ethan chasing them down the street shouting, "Lucian! Wait for me!"
On another bike, Adrian carried Selene, who stood tall, pointing like a general.
"Faster, Adrian! Catch them!"
Elena turned back, sticking her tongue out at them. "Ha! You'll never catch me!"
Then came the exams. She remembered clutching her paper, covered in red crosses, running to Lucian in tears.
"What am I going to do? If this keeps up, I'll never get into South University!"
He scoffed.
"With grades like yours, you should thank the heavens if you manage a mediocre school. South University? Who filled your head with that nonsense?"
He was always cold, but his words could kill. She should have been angry, but she wasn't—she had long grown used to it.
Instead, she clung to his arm, wheedling.
"Lucian, you're a student at South University. Selene said you're one of the top students there. Why don't you tutor me, hmm?"
He snapped his book shut, glaring at her.
"Don't even think about it."
She pounced again, hugging his arm like a stubborn child.
"Come on, Lucian. We've known each other forever. It's just tutoring, not like I'm asking for your life. Help me, just this once?"
He pried her off without a flicker of expression.
"Sorry. We're not close."
The moment he pulled away, she latched on again like a shadow, refusing to let go.
"Lucian, Lucian, please. Just this once! I really want to get into South University. I'm an art student—I get extra points! If you help me, and I work harder, I know I can do it!"
She buried her face against his arm, her voice soft, coaxing.
"My Lucian… I like you. I like you so, so much. I like you more than anything in the world, I—"
"Shut up!"