The wind outside cut to the bone. Aria didn't call a car, walking a full ten kilometers home in high heels that had already rubbed her heels raw.
Back at the villa, Aria opened her mobile banking app, ready to transfer the deposit for the Edelmark hospital's advance payment.
The screen lit up. There wasn't a single cent left.
She thought it was a system error and refreshed the page three times. Still zero.
Her hands shaking, she called customer service. The response on the other end was polite and professional. "Ma'am, the two million dollars in your account were transferred in full yesterday. The recipient was Mr. Julian Lawson."
Two million.
Five years ago, during her first internship at his company, she'd been ostracized for being an orphan and had cried as she said she wanted to quit.
Julian had pulled her into his arms and transferred the money into her account, his voice gentle. "Take it. What's mine will be yours from now on."
She never touched that money.
Even after she got sick and only dared go to a community clinic, she gritted her teeth and held on, treating that money as the last proof of whatever "affection" remained between them.
But now, Julian had taken it back.
Aria's head buzzed violently, her vision going dark as nausea churned in her stomach. She had to brace herself against the wall to keep from collapsing.
She had five days left before her flight. Without that money, her visa would be revoked, and her chance at treatment would vanish completely.
She took a taxi to the Lawson Group headquarters.
The receptionist stopped her. Aria gave Julian's name. "I'm Julian's… I—I'm here to see Julian."
The receptionist's expression turned subtle. "Mr. Lawson is in a meeting… but Miss Bennett is inside."
Aria ignored the comment and walked straight toward the top-floor office.
The door wasn't fully closed. She heard intimate laughter drifting from inside.
"Julian… stop it…" Lila panted softly. "It wouldn't look good if someone saw…"
"What are you afraid of?" Julian chuckled quietly. "Who would dare come in without my permission?"
Aria pushed the door open.
In front of the desk, Lila was straddling Julian's lap, her shirt half open, lipstick marks smeared across her skin.
Seeing Aria, Lila shrieked and ducked behind Julian like a startled fawn.
A spasm twisted through Aria's stomach, and she nearly vomited.
But she bit down hard on her tongue and forced herself to speak. "Julian, the two million in my account, did you transfer it?"
Julian adjusted his cufflinks unhurriedly, looking at her the way one looked at a beggar. "What, does it hurt now?"
"That was my money!" Aria's voice trembled. "That was for my treatment!"
"Yours?" Julian scoffed. "Who was it who said, 'As long as you're here, money doesn't matter'? And now you're keeping accounts with me so carefully?"
He stood up, pulling Lila tightly against him, his voice turning icy. "You made Lila cry more than once. That money counts as compensation. And a warning."
The blood drained from Aria's body.
Compensation? A warning?
For a new lover, Julian was actually saying something like this to her.
"If there's a next time," Julian stepped closer, his gaze vicious, "get the hell out of my house. Don't make me throw you out myself."
Aria's lips trembled. She wanted to say something, but no sound came out.
Shame, unease, fear… a mess of emotions swallowed her whole.
She couldn't leave.
She was an orphan, raised in an institution. The apartment Julian had bought for her was her only shelter.
Without that place, she wouldn't even have somewhere to wait for death.
She had always believed that even if he didn't love her, he would at least remember their ten years together.
Reality slapped her hard in the face. In his eyes, her life wasn't worth even a single tear from Lila.
Julian took Lila's hand. As they passed Aria, he dropped a cold remark. "Remember your place. Don't even think about comparing yourself to Lila. As long as you behave, I won't throw you out."
The door closed. The sound of high heels faded away.
Aria stood alone in the empty office, then slowly crouched down.
She wasn't crying. It was her body curling in on itself by instinct, like a hedgehog stripped of its spines, too weak even to protect itself.
Just then, a message popped up on her phone from the company's art director. "Aria, there's a model exhibition in three days. The pay is one million dollars."