After Love Vanished, He Regretted It

At the auction, Ryan escorted Sophia ahead of me. She wore a champagne-colored gown, glancing back with mocking eyes, while I trailed like a shadow.

As Ryan bid on one extravagant piece after another for Sophia, I felt nothing anymore.

“The next item: the final work of the late painter Edward Lane, Spring Rain Returns, starting bid: fifty thousand.”

The canvas unfurled—stone paths, paper umbrellas, the misty Pacific Northwest rain, every stroke delicate enough to reveal the bamboo ribs of the umbrella.

It was my father’s painting.

Years ago, when Ryan was amnesiac and hunted by enemies, I had no choice but to sell this piece for his medical bills. Crying, I told him, “One day, we must buy it back.” He had held me then, wiping my tears with his knuckles, and promised, “I’ll remember, Evelyn. I’ll bring it back for you.”

“Fifty thousand.” I raised my paddle, my voice trembling.

Sophia’s face darkened. She whispered something into Ryan’s ear, then raised her paddle. “Eighty thousand.”

“This painting means everything to me,” I pleaded softly. But the hundred million in my offshore account was inaccessible, and even if it weren’t, Ryan would block me.

Sophia only smirked, tracing Ryan’s arm with her finger. “Evelyn, it’s an auction. Compete fairly. Ryan said if I want it, he’ll give it to me.”

“One hundred thousand,” I bid again.

“One hundred fifty thousand,” Sophia countered, leaning closer to Ryan. “Ryan, I love this painting too. Won’t you buy it for me?”

Ryan’s gaze lingered on the painting, then on me. For a fleeting second, his eyes wavered, perhaps recalling his promise.

But seconds later, he raised his paddle firmly. “Two hundred thousand.”

A fragile hope flickered in my heart—maybe he hadn’t forgotten.

But then, taking the painting from the staff, Ryan turned and shoved it into Sophia’s arms. “Here, Sophia. It’s yours.”

Sophia’s face lit up. Hugging the canvas, she suddenly smirked at me. In front of everyone, she stumbled against me, gripped both edges of the painting, and ripped it in two.

The sound tore through me.

“Oh no,” she feigned panic, tears brimming. “Evelyn, I didn’t mean to!”

“Sophia!” I lunged, but Ryan yanked me back, his grip bruising my wrist. His eyes burned with anger. “Enough! It’s just a painting! If it’s ruined, I’ll buy another! Stop scaring Sophia!”

“That was my father’s last work! I sold it to save you!” My tears splashed onto his hand. “You promised me—you said you’d bring it back!”

“I’ve made countless promises. How could I remember them all?” Ryan flung me aside, and I stumbled into a display stand. A vase toppled, shattering, shards slicing my ankle.

Before I could steady myself, his palm cracked across my face.

I pressed my burning cheek, staring at his frozen hand and Sophia’s smug smile.

And I laughed.

By the end of the auction, whatever last hope I had for Ryan shattered like that painting.

Back at the mansion, I pulled out the recorder, the DNA report from the pet food, and the surveillance footage Brown had secured. I mailed everything to my lawyer.

Then, I dialed Mr. Warren, Ryan’s rival.

“Mr. Warren,” my voice was calm, stripped of all emotion. “I’d like to make a deal with you. I believe you’ll be interested.”

Hanging up, I held Aaron’s urn and headed for the airport.

As the car left the city, I glanced back once at the glowing skyline.

My phone buzzed. Ryan’s name flashed on the screen.

I switched it off and tossed it into a roadside trash bin.

Aaron, we’re going home.

As for Ryan and Sophia—what they owe us, I’ll make them pay back with interest.