Chapter 5

The moment those words left Zoey's mouth, the whole room went silent. Everyone's eyes widened, as if they couldn't believe what they had just heard. Zoey, the woman who'd used to act like she'd die for Yves, was now saying that she didn't like him anymore? All eyes were on Zoey, shocked. However, Yves stood there in his perfectly tailored suit, his expression unreadable, and his gaze as indifferent as ever. "How many times are you going to play hard to get?" His voice was low and laced with sarcasm. "I told you before. No matter what you do, it won't work." He leaned in slightly to crush her last bit of pride. "I don't like you. Get that in your fucking head!" As soon as his words fell, the guests finally snapped out of their shock, and whispers swept through the room like a tide. "I knew it. There's no way Ms. Zoey would just stop loving Mr. Pearce all of a sudden!" "Exactly, she tried to kill herself 108 times just to get Mr. Pearce to notice her." Someone clicked their tongue. "She's so sad and pathetic…" Zoey clenched her fists. Her nails dug deep into her palms, but she couldn't feel a thing. She parted her lips to repeat herself. She wasn't playing games; she genuinely didn't love him anymore! But before she could utter a word, Bryant seethed, "My apologies, everyone! We've failed as her parents. We never taught her any manners, which is why she's done something so disgraceful!" He then beckoned for the bodyguards. "Guards, take her to the hotel's cold storage and leave her there overnight to sober up!" Zoey's eyes widened, and she snapped her head up. "I said I didn't steal—" But no one listened to her explanation. Two bodyguards stepped forward and roughly grabbed her wrists. Zoey fought back with all she had until a sharp pain shot through the back of her neck. Her vision went black as she staggered backward after being struck by the bodyguard's metal baton. Before she passed out, her eyes met Yves'. He stood there watching it all unfold, with not even a flicker of emotion crossing his face. Later on, Zoey jolted awake from the biting cold. Her lashes were crusted with frost, and every breath came out in pale clouds. Her body was so numb, it felt like her blood had turned to ice. The cold storage was -22 degrees Fahrenheit, and all she had on was a thin satin slip. Her bare skin was already turning blue and purple from the cold. "I can't die…" she muttered, forcing her limbs to move. "I can't die…" Her immigration documents were almost ready. She still had to get out of there. Soon, she could start a brand new life. Summoning all her strength, Zoey slowly crawled toward the door. Her fingers were stiff and purple from the cold, but she still pounded on the heavy metal door. "Help… please… someone… help me…" Her voice was hoarse and weak, but no one answered. It wasn't until an overly sweet, almost cheerful voice came from the other side, "Don't bother." Zoey froze. It was Wendy. "Everyone's busy celebrating my birthday right now. Who'd have time to check on you?" Wendy giggled, unable to hide the smugness in her tone. "Oh, right. I just remembered something funny… It's your birthday too, isn't it? Too bad no one remembered!" Zoey bit her lip so hard she tasted blood. "I'm the center of attention in a grand banquet hall while you're freezing half to death here…" Wendy sneered. "So what if you're the real heiress? So what if I'm just an orphan from a welfare home? In the end, you're still beneath me!" Zoey closed her eyes as a metallic tang crept up her throat. Just then, Wendy's phone rang. She deliberately put it on speaker so Zoey could hear the caller's voice clearly. "Wendy, where are you?" It was Yves. His voice was low and gentle, filled with a tenderness Zoey had never heard before. "My head feels a little fuzzy…" Wendy's voice immediately weakened. "I'm in the lounge." "Hold on. I'll be right there!" The call ended, and the cold storage fell silent again. After listening to the tenderness in Yves' voice toward Wendy, Zoey gently closed her eyes. For some reason, memories of the long nights she had poured her heartbreak into her diary flooded her mind. The yellowed pages were stained with tears, every letter a testament to her suffering. She wrote about the time Yves rented out an entire revolving restaurant just so Wendy could watch the snow on her birthday. She wrote about how Yves stayed by Wendy's bedside all night when she had a fever and even missed the company's stock market listing ceremony for her. She also wrote about how his gaze was gentle and warm when he looked at Wendy, yet cold and sharp as frost when he looked at her. Night after night, day after day, Zoey had lurked in the shadows as she watched their love grow. Fortunately, she no longer loved him. This realization brought a faint curl to her lips as the darkness pulled her under once more.