A Final Farewell to Love

As I heard his words, I let out a chuckle and asked calmly, "And what does that have to do with you?"

In an instant, the tension in the room became razor-sharp, like a drawn blade ready to strike. Yaron scoffed, his gaze dripping with disdain. "I don't know what's gotten into you lately, but it's obvious you're not behaving.

"Megan, one of the conditions for marrying me is absolute obedience—no exceptions."

His tone was light, but every word carried the weight of a warning.

I, however, acted as though I had not heard him. I suddenly rose to my feet, muttering under my breath, "I can't be bothered to argue with a lunatic like you." Then, I turned around to leave.

Before I could take a single step, Yaron was on his feet, grabbing my wrist and looking down at me. "What's this? Playing hard to get?

"You think that throwing a tantrum, blocking me, and cutting me off will make me give in?" He leaned in close, stopping just inches from my face, his voice laced with anger as he gritted out, "Keep dreaming."

Then, with a sharp motion, he flung my hand away and casually picked up a bottle of liquor from the table. Twisting off the cap, he held it out to me.

"Didn't you want to drink?

"If you finish this entire bottle tonight, I'll marry you tomorrow."

The people around us began whispering. After all, everyone knew I had done plenty of foolish things just for the chance to marry Yaron.

I looked at the bottle he was offering, finding it utterly laughable.

In my past life, I had obeyed his every word without question. Marrying him had been my greatest wish, my most foolish obsession. Still, even if Yaron had a shred of humanity in him, he wouldn't have done something so heartless…

Ever since my rebirth, the memory of my past suffering lingered like a ghost, creeping up on me when I least expected it.

Fortunately, I would not be so foolish again.

With a loud crash, the bottle shattered against his head.

A collective gasp filled the room as shards of glass scattered across the floor. The sharp scent of liquor mingled with the coppery tang of blood. A thin trail of red trickled down Yaron's forehead.

A sharp scream rang out, breaking the stunned silence.

No one had expected me to smash the bottle on him.

I did not even blink. I dropped the remaining half of the shattered bottle and looked at him with utter contempt. "Who the hell wants to marry you?"

Yaron's entire body trembled slightly. His fists clenched so tightly at his sides that his knuckles cracked. His bloodshot eyes darkened, a storm of barely restrained rage brewing within.

I showed no fear. I turned and walked away without hesitation.

As I passed Bryan, I paused, curling my lips into a smirk. "Bryan, the partnership between the Lane and Stone families ends here.

"If this happens again, that bottle won't just land on his head."

Ellie, looking pale as a sheet, immediately stepped aside as though terrified I might come for her next.

…

That night, news of me smashing a bottle over Yaron's head spread like wildfire in our social circle. By the next day, my father publicly announced that the Stone family would no longer do business with the Lane family.

Suddenly, all sorts of people started cozying up to me—the wealthy heiress with a temper.

Looking at those fawning messages, I could not help but find human nature utterly hypocritical. Back then, when I was gentle and hopelessly devoted to Yaron, people saw me as easy to bully and humiliated me at every turn.

Now that I had changed, those same people suddenly wanted to be on my good side.

Time flew by, and soon, it was the day of my departure.

After half a month of preparations, everything was set. However, I unexpectedly received a call from Yaron on the night before I was supposed to leave.

His voice sounded uncharacteristically sincere over the phone. He said he wanted to have a serious talk with me.

I did not say a word. I simply hung up and continued packing my luggage.

Who would have thought that he would show up at my door less than thirty minutes later?

"Megan… we need to talk."

Yaron braced himself against the doorframe, gasping for breath as though he had rushed over in a hurry.

I leaned against the doorway, arms crossed. Finally, I gave in and let him enter.

His eyes flickered toward the neatly packed suitcases in the living room. His brows furrowed as he turned back to look at me with confusion.

"Where are you going?"

I did not want to waste time arguing with him, so I replied casually, "I'm moving to the south side of the city. Just say what you need to say and make it quick."