He treated Cleo so well, so well that I couldn’t help but feel jealous.

Whenever I showed the slightest hint of unhappiness, he would come over, teasing me with a grin, “Hehe, jealous? That’s adorable.”

Then he’d gently coax me, “Don’t be mad, okay? I only see Cleo as a little sister. Our professor specifically asked me to take care of her. How could I refuse?”

I could never tell if he truly meant it, or if it was just another excuse, because I’d heard the same line far too many times.

And every time after comforting me, he’d treat Cleo even better.

He started spending more time with her than with me. His social media was filled with pictures of the two of them, smiling, side by side.

He would get her messages in the middle of the night, then rush out without a word, only to return at dawn.

Though he always had some perfectly logical explanation afterward, the unease in my heart only grew deeper and darker. The only thing keeping me from falling apart was my love for him.

My mother’s death had opened my eyes and forced me to see the truth for what it was.

Just because he couldn’t bring himself to reject a professor’s request, he felt justified treating Cleo better than his own girlfriend, better than his fiancée?

What a pathetic excuse. What a cruel lie.

If his heart had already shifted, why was I still holding on?

I saw Dyrroth again half a month later.

He greeted me outside the company with a light smile. “Didn’t I tell you? The wedding wouldn’t be delayed. I wasn’t lying, was I?”

“Hmm,” I answered flatly, my eyes drifting to Cleo standing beside him and to the snarling dog she held on a leash.

Cleo shot me a smug, provocative look before crouching down to stroke the dog’s fur. The creature bared its teeth at me, snarling like it sensed the tension.

Dyrroth frowned and looked at me with a hint of blame. “You scared it.”

Then, without another glance in my direction, he squatted beside Cleo and began petting the dog with her.

That scene dimmed the light in my eyes.

“Oh, right!” Dyrroth suddenly stood up, his tone casual. “I’ve been thinking about what happened. Whether your mom was teasing the dog or not, the fact remains that she was bitten and ended up in the hospital. As the owner, Cleo owes her an apology.”

I looked at him calmly. “So you waited for me outside the company… just to ask me to take her to apologize to my mother?”

“Not just her. I’ll go too,” he added, as if that made it noble. “I admit, I said some harsh things that day at the hospital.”

My eyes dropped to the dog at my feet, still baring its teeth. “Is this beast coming along, too?”

At that, Cleo snapped without hesitation. “President, you’d better watch your mouth! Browny isn’t a beast, he’s my best friend.”

I nodded slowly, my voice cool. “You’re right. After all… dogs are a dog’s best friend.”

“You—!”

Cleo pointed at me, her face flushed deep red with anger.

“Carmela, you’re being unreasonable,” Dyrroth said coldly, his expression darkening. “After my persuasion, Cleo already acknowledged her mistake and genuinely wants to apologize to your mom. If you won’t accept it, fine, but do you have to be so aggressive?”

His words struck me like a slap.

Even if my mom had survived and was only lying in a hospital bed, wouldn’t I, as her daughter, be allowed to vent a little anger toward the one responsible?

Why was I the villain in his eyes?

Was Cleo so important to him that she couldn’t be held accountable, not even a little?

Cleo lowered her head, tears brimming. “Senior, since President Pittman won’t forgive me, let’s just forget the apology. I don’t want to cause you any more trouble.”

“I’m leaving.”

She turned, but Dyrroth reached out to stop her. Then he turned to me, his gaze sharp, utterly unfamiliar.

“Apologize to Cleo.”

“In your dreams.”

“Carmela Russo!”

He barked my name for the first time, his voice raised in fury. It was the first time he’d ever shouted at me, and the first time he used my full name with such coldness.

“Why have you become like this? If you’ve said something wrong, shouldn’t you apologize?”

“Then since a life was lost, shouldn’t it be paid with another life?”

Dyrroth froze, stunned. “What did you just say?”

“Nothing.”

I turned around and walked into the building, the resignation letter already tucked neatly in my pocket.

The process went smoothly. As the vice president of the group, I applied and signed off on it myself.

That night, I didn’t go home. I checked into a hotel instead.

Dyrroth’s messages came flooding in.

[Where did you go? Why aren’t you home?]

[Still angry? I only said those things out of frustration. Come back, I brought you something from abroad.]

[Alright, alright, I was wrong. Please come home. This house feels too empty without its hostess.]

Frustrated, I turned off my phone without a second thought.

The next day, I timed it perfectly, just when Dyrroth would be with the group. I checked out of the hotel and headed home to pack.

What I didn’t expect was to open the door and find Dyrroth sitting coldly on the sofa, with Cleo crying beside him.

“Why did you kill Browny?” Dyrroth demanded the moment he saw me.

I blinked, confused for a second, then remembered. Browny was Cleo’s vicious dog.

A laugh escaped my lips. “That beast’s dead? Whoever did it deserves a medal. They really did the world a favor.”

“Carmela!”

“You did it, and now you won’t even admit it. With that attitude, you….”

“Hold on.” I cut him off sharply. “You’re saying I killed that dog?”

“Who else could it be?” Cleo snapped, her red-rimmed eyes full of accusation. “Browny was always gentle. Except for biting your mom when she teased you, it never hurt anyone.”

“You did it,” she hissed, pointing straight at me. “Because it bit your mom, you killed it!”

I looked straight at Dyrroth. “Is that what you think, too?”

His expression was cold, his eyes stripped of all warmth. “Carmela, I didn’t expect you to be so heartless. Just because your mom was hurt and hospitalized over something minor, you killed Browny?”

I stood there, stunned.

So that was what he believed.

My mother, attacked and hospitalized, was just a “minor” matter. But the death of that vicious dog? That was the real tragedy.

In his eyes, dogs mattered more than people.

How laughable. How cruelly ironic.

My heart completely shattered at Dyrroth’s words. I couldn’t even summon the will to explain. My voice was calm, numb. “So what if I did?”

“You killed my Browny! I’ll fight you to the death!”

Cleo screamed and lunged at me from the sofa.

“Get lost!”

I shoved her to the ground without hesitation.

The very next second, a heavy slap struck my face. My vision blurred.

Dyrroth pointed to the door, his voice thunderous with rage. “Get out! Get out now!”

I stood frozen in place.

Dyrroth actually hit me.

Over Cleo. Over a dog.

He rushed over and helped her up gently. “Are you okay? Let’s get you to the hospital.”

Watching him support Cleo as they walked away, I stood still, my voice calm and even. “You’re the one who forced me out today. I hope you won’t regret it.”

Dyrroth paused and turned his head, his eyes sharp and unforgiving. “You have one day. Apologize to Cleo. Attend Browny’s funeral. Confess sincerely. If not… the wedding is off. Don’t even dream of marrying me.”

I smiled faintly and nodded. “Alright, then.”

After that, I packed immediately, hailed a taxi to the airport, and boarded the flight I had booked long ago.

As the plane lifted into the sky, far away in the hospital, Dyrroth felt a wave of unease wash over him. He pulled out his phone and typed hurriedly:

[What I said was out of anger. You don’t need to repent. Just apologize to Cleo.]

He hit send, only to be met with a glaring red exclamation mark.