"Is that so? If you're having trouble, Mr. Hawk, feel free to have a chat with my assistant. Given our past, I won't just ignore you."

I understood Nicholas's sarcastic tone perfectly. I lowered my voice and added, "Even if it's a 30-year case, I'm confident I can handle it."

He chuckled coldly and fell silent. I truly didn't hope for anything good for him.

A 30-year lawsuit would mean countless deaths tied to his name, assuming he had been killing continuously for three decades.

But Nicholas knew full well that I could do it. Everything I had now had nothing to do with him, and he couldn't accept that fact and just let it go.

He couldn't bring himself to wish me well, especially after how ugly their parting had been. My decisiveness had been brutal. Even now, I hadn't uttered a single "sorry" since we met again.

His heart felt as though two invisible hands were tearing it apart, pulling him in opposite directions-half agony, half relief. It twisted his face in the dark.

"You should leave now."

care to know. The only thing I needed to understand was that

pouring out the water, hoping he'd get

covered mine,

my posture was anything but graceful. When I lifted my head to

icy pit. The chill crept up from where he held my wrist, freezing me like a hard

out a worn agreement

he finished. The thin papers fluttered to the

had been forcing nearly shattered. Why did every encounter with him have to be laced with humiliation?

didn't listen to a word I said.

mark on the paper. He stood up and walked toward the door, kicking the papers under the couch as

abruptly and wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me close. He looked down at me with a smile, his thumb deliberately brushing against my

shiver ran down my spine, spreading from where he touched me. I raised my hand to slap him, but he caught

"Don't touch me!"

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