Chapter 68

Chapter 68
Elise's POV

"Liam." I called his name. My voice was soft.

"That party, whether you wanted to hurt me or not—it doesn't matter anymore."

His mouth opened, but no sound came out.

"What I mean is," I looked at him, enunciating each word carefully, "we're finished. Completely finished. We ended when you pushed me toward Alexa to pour water. We ended when you knew that woman would make things difficult for me and you just stood by. We ended when you treated me like a display piece to show your family. We ended when your mother said 'orphan children don't deserve this' and you stood there without saying a single word."

With each sentence, his face grew paler.

But I felt no satisfaction. No sense of vindication at all. It was simply like reading through a checklist—one that should have been read long ago but had been delayed until today.

"I can change." He interrupted urgently. "I know I did many things wrong before. But I know now. I'll change. Elise, give me one more chance—"

"There won't be a next time."

As those words left my mouth, I felt a strange sense of relief, as if a stone I'd been carrying on my back for years had finally been set down.

"Liam, listen carefully. No matter what you say now, what you do, what you sacrifice—I won't turn back. Not because I don't forgive you. But because—"

I paused.

"Because I never loved you."

His face went white.

The entire face lost its color within two seconds. His lips moved, but produced no sound. Something shattered in those eyes—something he had always believed in without question.

Perhaps I shouldn't have been so blunt. Perhaps I should have left him some dignity. After all, he did come looking for me, he did say those things, he did—

No.

No need for dignity.

He never gave me any.

"You might not believe it," I continued. "But that doesn't matter. What matters is I'm leaving now. Either you step aside, or I'll walk around you."

I picked up my suitcase and walked past him toward the campus gate.

Hurried footsteps sounded behind me.

"Elise!"

He called out from behind.

I didn't stop.

"Where are you going? You've taken leave—you have nowhere to go, right? Come back with me—"

I stopped. Not because of his words, but because I needed to make this response clear.

Then I turned around.

The sunlight was blinding. I squinted, watching him standing a few meters away, chest heaving violently, that face filled with expectation—waiting for me to give the answer he wanted.

"I have somewhere to go."

The sentence was short. Light.

But I saw his expression collapse instantly.

He knew what place I meant.

"Are you serious?" His voice began to tremble. "You'd rather choose him than give me one chance? He's my uncle! More than ten years older than you! He works for the church! Do you know what this means? If this gets out—"

"Liam."

I interrupted him. This time I used the same method he'd used on me earlier—calling the name, pausing, then saying the cruelest words.

"Even now you're still talking to me using words like 'the Sterling family,' 'heir,' 'family rules.'"

The sunlight fell on my face. I knew he could see every expression clearly.

"Do you think these things can move me? Do you think I'll change my mind because of them?"

I shook my head.

"I won't go back to beg for your charity. No matter how difficult my current situation is. This is my own business. I'll handle it myself. It has nothing to do with you. Nothing to do with Victor either."

I turned around, picked up my suitcase, and continued forward.

Before the wheels could complete one rotation, hurried footsteps sounded behind me—not the kind of pause before shouting from before, but a direct sprint without any warning.

A hand grabbed my wrist.

The force was tremendous. So strong my bones made a crisp sound, my entire arm was yanked backward and twisted, the suitcase flew from my hand and crashed to the ground, rolling twice before stopping three meters away.

"Liam!"

I tried to break free from his grip, but his other hand came up too, both hands clamping around my arm, dragging my entire body toward him. My feet scraped two trails across the ground, my heels nearly twisting off.

"You think you can just leave?"

His voice had changed.

Not the anxious, pleading, even somewhat pitiful tone from before. But something squeezed out from deep in his throat, crushed by something and reassembled—low, rough, carrying a madness I didn't recognize.

"You think you can end everything with a few harsh words? Five years! Elise! We were together for five years!"

He pulled me in front of him. Our faces were less than ten centimeters apart. I could see the bloodshot veins in his eyes, could smell the alcohol on him—he still carried the lingering scent from last night's bar.

"You think choosing that man means you can throw me away? What can he give you? Huh? What can he give you that I can't!"

Each sentence came with sprays of saliva. His hands tightened more and more, my wrist beginning to go numb.

"Look at me!"

He roared, his other hand gripping my chin, forcing my head up.

I looked at him. Looked at this face I once thought handsome now twisted into an unfamiliar shape. Features squeezed together, eyes bulging as if about to fall from their sockets, veins protruding on his neck.

This wasn't the Liam I knew.

Or rather, this was the real Liam—a Sterling family young master who'd gotten everything he wanted since childhood, who would use violence to take back control the moment he lost it.

"You're coming with me right now." His teeth ground together audibly. "No matter where you go—Victor's house, a hotel—I'm following you. If you won't go willingly, I'll tie you up and take you back. I've already gone crazy anyway. I don't care anymore."