Emma hadn't slept a wink.
The aftermath of alcohol and the weight of guilt split her head like a vice. But worse than the physical pain was the psychological pressure. Gu Liang's closed door felt like a boulder pressing against her chest. That cold, omnipresent silence was more lethal than any accusation.
She paced the master bedroom like a caged animal. Her cedar whiskey pheromones spilled uncontrollably, thick with agitation. Though her rut had passed, the lingering bond from the mark—and Gu Liang's deliberate rejection—triggered her Alpha instincts, making peace impossible.
She couldn't go on like this.
This stalemate, this silent torture, was worse than a clean cut. She needed to end it. Whatever the outcome, she needed closure.
At dawn, as the sky turned pale, Emma stepped out of the bedroom. She splashed cold water on her face, trying to look less wrecked, but the red veins in her eyes and the exhaustion etched into her brow betrayed her.
She sat on the living room sofa like a prisoner awaiting judgment, eyes locked on the guest room door.
Time crawled. Every second tugged at her nerves.
Finally, at exactly seven o'clock, the lock clicked.
The door opened.
Gu Liang stepped out in a crisp white shirt, collar buttoned to hide his gland. Pale gray pants. His figure was slender and upright, like a poplar in morning dew. His face was still pale, but his eyes had regained a sharp clarity.
He saw Emma sitting there but didn't pause. He walked straight to the kitchen, as if she were just furniture.
"Gu Liang," Emma called, her voice hoarse from tension.
He stopped, didn't turn, just tilted his head slightly, catching her in his peripheral vision. Detached. Like a stranger being sold insurance.
Emma took a deep breath and summoned the courage to say the words that had haunted her for days.
"We… should break up."
The moment she said it, she felt hollowed out. Drained. But also, in a twisted way, relieved. It was finally out.
Silence fell.
Even the birds outside sounded too loud.
Gu Liang slowly turned to face her. No surprise. No anger. No sadness. Not even a ripple. His eyes, once warm, now looked like bottomless wells of ice, quietly reflecting Emma's unease.
"Okay."
One word. Clear. Calm. Without hesitation.
Emma froze.
She had imagined every possible reaction—tears, accusations, breakdowns, even hysterical rage over the mark. She was ready for anything.
Except this.
This quiet, almost surgical agreement. As if he'd been waiting for it.
Her carefully built defenses cracked. A strange feeling of being outplayed crept in.
"You…" She opened her mouth but had no words.
"Any other questions?" Gu Liang's tone remained polite, almost formal. "If not, I'll find time today to move out."
"Move out?" Emma echoed. The apartment was jointly owned. She'd expected at least a discussion about assets.
"Yes." He nodded. "It's too far from my studio. Inconvenient. And—" his gaze swept the room, voice light, "the atmosphere here is unpleasant. I doubt you'd want me lingering."
His words pierced her like a needle. That boredom she thought she'd hidden—he'd seen it all along.
Emma flushed with discomfort, and a flicker of anger at being so thoroughly read.
"I'll have my lawyer contact you about the property," Gu Liang continued, his logic precise and chilling. "As for everything else, I don't believe we have any shared assets worth dividing."
He turned and entered the kitchen, preparing breakfast as if they'd just discussed the weather.
Emma stood frozen, watching his indifferent back. A wave of emptiness swallowed her.
It was over.
Just like that.
She had her "freedom." But why did it feel like something had been ripped from her, leaving a gaping hole?
She thought she held the knife. That she was the one cutting ties.
But now, she realized—Gu Liang had held it all along. He'd simply waited for her to lean in.
And he hadn't flinched.
His quiet acceptance, his lack of emotion, hurt more than any outburst could have.
Gu Liang walked past her with a bowl of cereal and milk. Not even a glance.
"I'll take the day off to pack. I'll be gone before you get home," he said, disappearing into the guest room.
Click.
Another lock. This time, sealing not just a door—but everything they'd ever been.
Emma stood alone in the living room. The faint scent of white tea still lingered.
She'd won. Gotten the ending she asked for.
So why did she feel like the loser?
—
Inside the guest room, Gu Liang leaned against the door, listening to Emma's unsteady footsteps fade.
He closed his eyes and exhaled.
When he opened them again, the last flicker of emotion was gone. Only ice remained.
He picked up his phone and dialed.
"Attorney Li? It's Gu Liang. Please prepare a full equity transfer agreement. I'm handing over all shares of First Heart Perfume Studio to Miss Lin Wei."
"Yes. All of them."
"And the proxy-held shares in NewSprout Biotech—start absorbing scattered market shares."
He hung up and walked to the window, watching Emma's familiar sports car speed away like an escape.
His lips curled into a cold, decisive smile.
Emma, you think breaking up is the end?
No. It's just the beginning.
Now that I've shed the identity of 'Gu Liang,' I can truly play this game.
Let's see—will you tire of revenge first, or will I destroy everything you're proud of?