The moment Mira was thrown into the sea, freezing water rushed into her nose and mouth, and the salt, the suffocating pressure, and the pain exploding in her lungs gradually dragged her into unconsciousness.
Mira stopped struggling and let her body sink.
That night, Julian Cross was patrolling by boat when he saw someone fall into the water not far away, while another vessel sped off.
He rushed over and pulled her out.
When Mira was taken to the hospital, the doctor shook his head and said, "The nerve damage is too severe, she may never be able to walk again."
Three full years later, a miracle happened and Mira woke up, but she could only spend more than a thousand days and nights confined to a hospital bed.
After countless surgeries and endless rehabilitation, she finally regained the ability to walk, but her body had already been completely ruined.
What was even worse were the psychological effects, as darkness, enclosed spaces, and even the smell of seawater could trigger intense panic.
She developed severe PTSD and claustrophobia.
At night, Mira often dreamed of sinking into the deep sea, while Lucien stood at the bow, watching her descend with cold indifference.
From the moment she sank into the sea to her recovery, Mira spent a full five years.
After being discharged, Mira worked as a consultant at a top-tier art auction house in Northhaven.
Mira deliberately chose this job to stay away from the harbor, away from the underworld, and away from anything connected to Lucien.
She even moved to Eastborough, trying to seal that past away forever with a new job, a new identity, and a new life.
A few days later, she attended a private gallery opening on behalf of her company.
Mira wore a sharply tailored dark green silk gown, with flawless makeup and a composed, confident demeanor.
But the moment she turned and caught sight of the man standing before the painting Sea of Night out of the corner of her eye, her entire body went rigid.
It was Lucien.
He wore a custom black suit, his figure more imposing than five years ago, his profile sharp as if carved, and when his gaze swept across the crowd, the air around him seemed to freeze.
But when his eyes landed on Mira, his pupils shrank sharply, and the glass in his hand was nearly crushed.
Time seemed to stand still.
He walked toward her, each step feeling as if it landed directly on her heart.
He stopped in front of her, his gaze darkening, and said in a low voice, "Mira."
Mira's fingers trembled as she tried to step back, but her heels felt rooted to the ground.
Her throat tightened, and she could only manage to whisper, "Lucien…"
"You disappeared without a trace, not even leaving a single explanation." He stepped closer, his presence burning yet cold, and said, "And now you're back, do you think I'll just let you go?"
Mira shook her head desperately, her eyes stinging, and said, "I didn't mean to disappear like that..."
"Oh really?" He sneered and grabbed her wrist, his grip so tight it hurt to the bone, and said, "Don't tell me you didn't betray me. You didn't treat me like something you could throw away whenever you wanted."
Curious glances from the surrounding guests turned toward them.
Mira felt those stares like needles pricking her back, a ringing slowly building in her ears. She tried to pull free, but his grip was like iron, completely unyielding.
At that moment, a waiter pushed past with a cart, the crowd shifting and forcing her into a curtained display alcove in the corner. Heavy velvet curtains dropped, enclosing the space on all sides as the lights dimmed abruptly.
The moment darkness swallowed her vision, her world collapsed.
The sharp, salty scent of seawater seemed to flood her nose again, while the pain of chains dragging at her ankles flared through her nerves.
"No… don't… let me out…"
She curled up on the ground, trembling all over as tears slipped down silently, like a trapped animal stripped of all defenses.
The curtain was pulled open.
Lucien stood in the light, looking down at her as she fell apart. His chest tightened sharply, and for a moment he almost bent down to help her.
But the next second, anger overwhelmed any sympathy, remembering how she had fled five years ago. And now she was putting on this pitiful act, for who to see?
"Have you finished your act?" His voice turned cold, yet he still grabbed Mira's wrist and pulled her out of the alcove.
Mira lifted her face, and through her blurred, tear-filled vision, she saw nothing but the hatred surging in his eyes.
She simply shook her head over and over, as if trying to cast out all the grievance, fear, love, and hatred of the past five years.
Lucien looked at her despairing eyes and pained expression, feeling as if something inside his chest had been torn open.
But he couldn't allow himself to soften.
She had been the one who walked away first.
She had no right to regret it.
Lucien stared at her despair, a dull ache spreading through his chest, yet he still said coldly, "From today on, you're not going anywhere, anyone who betrays me will pay the price."
Mira fled the gallery halfway through, stumbling back to her apartment and immediately booking a flight to Frosthaven.
She couldn't stay here any longer, not even for a second.
But the moment she stepped out of the elevator with her suitcase, two black SUVs pulled up in front of her.
The doors opened, and bodyguards stepped out, respectful yet firm, "Ms. Winslow, Mr. Yates requests that you return to the estate."
She struggled, "I'm not going, let me go!"
"Sorry," the man said calmly, "Mr. Yates said that this time, you won't be given another chance to run."
