Sebastian ignored them. With trembling fingers, he opened the video vault. He navigated to the hidden folder, only to find it completely empty. Every single video had been deleted.

Even the trash folder had been purged!

His mind let out a loud roar, as if something had violently collapsed within him. He finally understood why her behavior had been so off lately. Why she was always silent, and why her smiles had become rarer and rarer.

It turned out she had known all along. That day at the club, she had overheard the entire conversation. The date she had circled was not just her birthday, but the day she had decided to leave for good.

"She knew," Sebastian’s voice was hoarse, as if forced from his throat. "She’s gone."

The friends exchanged glances, their faces filled with shock and unease.

Someone whispered, "Holy shit, now that the videos are gone, isn't the plan completely ruined? If Weston finds out, he’ll kill you! He’s just as much of a lunatic as you are!"

Another shook his head. "Not necessarily. She’s so soft and obedient; she might not tell him. After all, so much time has passed and she never said a word, she just quietly deleted the videos. It’s... she’s so well-behaved it actually hurts to think about."

Sebastian said nothing. He stared fixedly at the phone screen, as if he could still see that breakup text. His mind was a chaotic mess, and Chloe’s words kept echoing in his ears—

"You’re pathetic—you’re head over heels in love, yet you’re still telling yourself you’re getting revenge!"

The friends were still talking over one another, but Sebastian seemed unable to hear them. Meanwhile, the guests in the gala hall began to murmur. They didn't know what was happening and were speculating about why the party hadn't started.

Left with no choice, the group of friends began to dismiss the guests. They apologized to each one, their faces full of embarrassment and frustration.

When they returned after clearing out the hall, they saw Sebastian suddenly stand up.

He walked step by step to the center of the hall, picked up an exquisite vase from a table, and hurled it against the floor. With a sharp crash, the vase shattered into a thousand pieces, shards scattering everywhere.

Next, Sebastian grabbed a chair and slammed it into the wall with all his might. The collision let out a deafening boom, leaving a deep gash in the wall.

Just like that, Sebastian began to systematically smash everything in the hall. He grew increasingly frenetic. Expensive decorations and fine chinaware turned into heaps of broken wreckage under his fury.

Sebastian didn't stop. He smashed priceless items one by one, his eyes red as blood, his movements frantic and violent, as if he wanted to level the entire building.

The friends finally snapped out of it and rushed to stop him. "Seb, stop! Don't do this! It’s just one revenge plan gone wrong! It’s not worth this much rage!"

Sebastian stopped. His eyes were bloodshot as he looked at them and said, one syllable at a time, "Who told you I’m angry because the plan failed?"

"Then what are you so angry about?" someone couldn't help but ask.

Sebastian’s movements faltered, a flash of daze appearing in his eyes. He opened his mouth but said nothing. His mind was a blur, and his heart felt as though it were being squeezed by iron claws, the pain making it nearly impossible to breathe.

He grabbed the very last item—the necklace worth hundreds of millions—and slammed it into the ground.

The sound of the diamonds fracturing felt like a final proclamation, a declaration that everything he had meticulously planned had utterly collapsed.

The gala hall was a ruin. The friends held their breath, not daring to speak. Sebastian stood in the center of the wreckage, his eyes hollow, as if every ounce of life had been drained from him.

Chapter Thirteen

The moment Natalia walked out of the airport dragging her suitcase, the cold wind hit her face.

She instinctively tucked her chin and pulled her scarf tighter. Winters in the north were always piercingly cold, while winters in the south, though also chilly, carried a touch of damp tenderness.

She looked up, searching the crowd of people waiting at arrivals, and quickly spotted the familiar figure.

Weston stood not far away in a long black coat that accentuated his tall, lean frame. In his hand, he held a pink doll-shaped hot water bottle, a stark contrast to his usual cold and stern demeanor.

Natalia felt a wave of warmth and quickened her pace. Seeing her, a smile broke across Weston’s face as he stepped forward to meet her.

She threw herself into his arms, her voice carrying a hint of a pout. "Brother, didn't I tell you not to come because it’s too cold?"

Weston ruffled her hair, his tone gentle. "But I wanted to come."

Natalia said nothing more, just held him tightly. She knew Weston had always doted on her. Since they were children, he would find a way to get her anything she wanted. Even if she was temperamental or stubborn, he never lost his temper with her.

Weston took her suitcase and led her toward the parking lot. Once in the car, he leaned over to buckle her seatbelt, bringing them very close. Natalia caught a faint whiff of a woody scent—the cologne Weston always used.

She looked up and met his eyes. In that instant, she froze. In Weston’s gaze, there seemed to be a trace of an emotion she had never seen before. It didn't look like the way a brother looked at a sister; instead, it looked like... love.

Natalia was startled by her own thought and quickly looked down, whispering to herself, "It must be because I haven't seen him in so long. How could I think that? This is clearly just a brother’s affection."

But Weston didn't move away immediately. His fingers lightly brushed her cheek, his voice low. "What’s wrong? Your face is so red. Did you catch a chill?"

Natalia stammered, "No... I'm fine."

Weston smiled and handed her the hot water bottle. "Hold this to warm your hands."

Natalia took it, the warmth touching her fingertips and spreading to her heart. She looked down at the pink doll and couldn't help but laugh. "Brother, why did you buy something so cute?"

Weston didn't answer, merely letting a smile play on his lips as he started the engine.

On the way, Weston asked about her life in the north over the past few years. Natalia answered each question with a light tone. "My roommates were great in college, and my boss was very kind when I started working. I even choreographed a few dances; I’ll show you when I get the chance."

Weston nodded, his tone carrying a hint of a probe. "And what about the boyfriend? How old? What did he do? How did you meet? And why did you break up?"

Natalia was taken aback; she hadn't expected Weston to be so detailed. She looked down, her fingers absentmindedly stroking the hot water bottle. "Brother, you never used to ask about these things."

Weston’s voice remained gentle but carried a firm resolve. "If I had asked before, would you have told me?"

Natalia went silent. She knew Weston was worried about her. But she couldn't say Sebastian’s name, nor could she let him know about that shameful past. It was all over; she didn't want him to worry.

So, she made up a story. "We met at a friend’s gathering. He’s three years older than me and he’s a... a designer. We got along well at first. He treated me quite nicely, bought me little gifts, and accompanied me to movies and shopping—that’s why I didn't come back for three years. But later, we developed differences in our values. He wanted to settle down, get married early, and have a quiet life. I still wanted to work hard at my dance career for a few more years. We argued about it many times, and the relationship eventually faded. In the end, we both felt it wasn't good for either of us to continue, so we had a peaceful breakup."

Weston said nothing, only glancing at her through the rearview mirror with an inquisitive look.

Chapter Fourteen

Natalia’s heart tightened, fearing he had seen through her lie.

Fortunately, Weston didn't press further, saying only, "It’s for the best that you broke up."

Upon arriving home, Natalia found her parents waiting for her. The moment she walked through the door, her mother rushed over, tears in her eyes. "Natalia, you’re finally home."

Though her father didn't speak, his eyes were full of concern. Natalia’s heart warmed as she hugged her mother. "Mom, I’m back."

Over the next few days, Natalia was surrounded by the family’s affection. Her mother cooked different meals for her every day, and her father constantly checked in to make sure she was comfortable. Every morning she woke up, there were countless gifts piled at her door.