Beneath the dim illumination of the room, a single tear slipped from the corner of Clara's eye, dissolving into the sheets.

The following morning.

"Mr. Ethan? Mr. Ethan?"

Harvey's lowered voice snapped Ethan out of the light slumber he had fallen into on one of the corridor bench seats.

Before his conscious mind could fully recover, his body had already reacted instinctively, moving over to the observation window to check on Clara's status.

She was still lying there undisturbed, and a nurse was currently swapping out an empty IV bottle.

The light in his eyes dimming slightly, Ethan reached up to rub his temples. "What is it?"

Harvey extended a document explicitly detailed with a "Handwriting Forensic Analysis" label. "The results from the analysis are back. The text inside that letter does not belong to Mrs. Ethan's handwriting."

Hearing the statement, Ethan's face froze.

Pulling the forensic report from the folder, his eyes locked onto several magnified comparison charts displayed at the top.

On the left side was Clara's handwriting copied from her academic lesson plans, while the right side displayed the characters from the love letter.

With the characters magnified, the distinct differences became glaringly obvious. Compared to the script on the love letter, the handwriting on her teaching materials was far more fluid, sharp, and confident.

His brows tightly knit, his mind began to clinically dissect the events surrounding their high school graduation.

The love letter had been slipped into his backpack on the literal day they left the campus after the college entrance examinations. And as he passed through the school gates, he had crossed paths with Melanie, who resided in the exact same neighborhood.

Claiming she needed to rush to the hospital to visit her ailing grandmother, she had proactively offered to carry his backpack home for him...

Melanie?

The light in Ethan's eyes turned lethal.

Verifying that Clara's current status remained relatively stable, he turned on his heel and strode forcefully toward the hospital exit.

Harvey scrambled to keep pace with his steps.

"Instruct Melanie to meet me at the villa within one hour."

Hearing the command, Harvey's expression shifted slightly. "Mr. Ethan, Director Melanie submitted her official resignation papers first thing this morning. I hadn't found the opportunity to inform you yet..."

Ethan pulled to an abrupt halt, his freezing gaze radiating an absolute pressure that felt thoroughly suffocating. "One hour from now, I want her standing before me."

Meeting that razor-sharp stare, a cold sweat broke out down Harvey's spine. "Understood, right away..."

The snow blanketing the roadways had been largely washed away by the overnight torrential rain, and the icy frost remaining on the tree branches steadily dripped water.

Inside the airport parking structure, an exceptionally striking red sports car slowly pulled into a stall.

Clad in a face mask and dark sunglasses, Melanie stepped out of the vehicle, hurriedly pulling a suitcase from the trunk before turning to rush toward the terminal entrance.

But the moment she spun around, her path was completely blocked.

Two men dressed in sharp, identical business suits stood squarely in front of her.

Melanie froze in her tracks. "Who are you? What do you think you're doing?"

"Someone wishes to speak with you. Please come with us quietly."

Before she could even attempt to offer a defense, a hand clamped tightly over her mouth, and she was forcefully dragged into a parked Maybach waiting nearby.

Chapter 15

The villa.

A stray beam of morning sunshine filtered into the immaculate bedroom, illuminating the absolute desolation of the space as Ethan surveyed his surroundings.

Throughout the entire structure, there wasn't a single shred of Clara's belongings remaining.

Only the box of stomach medication resting on the nightstand—something he had completely disregarded—served as a remaining proof that a woman who cared for his well-being had once existed within these walls.

The increasingly heavy void filled his chest, compressing his thoughts into a tangled, chaotic mess.

Suddenly, his phone vibrated.

It was Harvey.

Ethan accepted the call immediately, only to hear Harvey report, "Mr. Ethan, the target has been secured. We will arrive momentarily."

Hearing the news, the rare trace of sorrow lingering in the depths of his eyes was instantly replaced by a brutal frost. "Understood."

He was highly curious to hear her explanation for whether she had laid hands on that love letter years ago, and why exactly she was attempting to flee the city in such a desperate hurry.

The late-winter wind felt as though it carried literal blades, whistling through the barren branches of the trees lining the streets.

Staring at the scenery blurred outside the vehicle window, Melanie felt her heart leaping straight into her throat.

This was the explicit route leading back to Ethan's private residence.

Her internal panic climbed to a peak, and she felt a wave of intense regret for carrying out such a clumsy, panicked flight.

Yet the moment she recalled the man's horrific, lethal stare, her body instinctively commanded her to hide.

Her face entirely bloodless, Melanie forced a tight, unsightly smile onto her lips. "Gentlemen, could you perhaps do me a favor and let me out of the car right here? No matter how much money you want, I can pay you!"

However, her attempt at negotiation was met with absolute detachment from her captors.

Moments later, the vehicle pulled to a smooth stop outside the gates of the villa.

Without uttering a single word, the two men gripped Melanie by the arms and forcefully dragged her through the front door.

"Thud!"

She was violently thrown onto the hard floor, and her phone slipped from her pocket, skittering across the tile.

Before she could even register the physical ache, the sharp scent of mint-flavored cigarette smoke entering her nostrils felt like a powerful hand, clamping tightly around her throat.

Lifting her head, her racing heart instantly plunged into a dark abyss, her voice trembling violently: "Ethan..."

The man sat on the sofa with his back to the windows, his features completely obscured by the heavy shadows of the room.

The burning tip of the cigarette clamped between his fingers glowed like an orange flower. He exhaled a ring of smoke, his dark pupils gleaming with absolute frost amidst the haze.

Even while remaining completely motionless, the aura he radiated was enough to strike pure terror into a person's soul.

"I am exceptionally curious as to what critical matter could possibly demand such a frantic departure, to the extent that you failed to even seek authorization from your CEO."

Ethan's tone remained as flat and clinical as it had always been.

A wave of sheer panic flashed through Melanie's eyes, though she desperately tried to mask it with an act of innocent confusion. "Something happened with my mother's health, and I simply didn't have the time to explain it to you beforehand. That's why... that's why..."

The pathetic excuse caught awkwardly in her throat. Ethan simply sat in absolute silence, his relaxed posture making it look as though he were leisurely admiring a criminal's desperate struggles before an execution.

Seeing Melanie stuttering for several long moments without delivering a coherent explanation, Ethan offered a slight tilt of his head toward Harvey.

Harvey nodded, stepping forward and tossing the pink love letter squarely in front of her face.

Catching sight of the familiar text on the paper, Melanie's gaze violently fractured.

Ethan crushed the cigarette out in an ashtray, standing up to close the distance between them step by step. "Years ago, when you carried my backpack home, you secretly swapped out Clara's original confession letter, didn't you?"

Melanie fought to stabilize her erratic breathing. "No..."

Ethan's eyes narrowed slightly, his thin lips pressing into a hard, linear mark.

As if finding a potential breakthrough, Melanie scrambled to her feet, tears swimming in her wide eyes. "I am fully aware that you and Clara were high school classmates, but weren't the two of us childhood friends as well? Just because something tragic happened to Clara, are you truly going to turn around and blame your own internal misunderstandings on my name?"

Reaching the end of her speech, her tone softened into a pleading whine, and she reached out with a trembling hand to lightly pinch the fabric of Ethan's sleeve. "Ethan, I know you don't love me, but I would never carry out a single act intended to cause you grief. I desire your happiness and joy more than absolutely anyone else—including Clara. I sincerely treated her as a true friend."

An absolute silence claimed the air.

Melanie watched the quiet man standing before her with extreme tension, fighting to maintain her facial expression while frantically calculating the most persuasive words to offer next.

Suddenly, the phone resting on the floor began to ring loudly, instantly drawing the gaze of everyone in the room.

The caller ID displayed a single character: Lee.

Melanie's hands shook violently, her absolute terror exposed to the light.

Receiving a nod of confirmation from Ethan's eyes, Harvey reached down and scooped up the device.