Chapter 257

Chapter 257

Victoria slid into the back seat of Edward's black Maybach.

The car had a faint smell of leather, mixed with that cool woody scent he always wore.

The atmosphere was quiet.

She pressed herself as close to the door as possible, keeping her head turned to the window, her eyes following the passing streetlights and building outlines, unwilling to speak first. Her heart hadn't recovered from that bold decision she'd just made, still racing out of control.

Edward gripped the steering wheel, not disturbing her. He occasionally glanced at her through the rearview mirror, as if confirming something he couldn't quite believe. His gaze lingered greedily on her profile reflected in the window—that face, peaceful and whole, without a single scar.

At that moment, memories from reality came crashing through his mind like a dull knife cutting back and forth.

In his awakening reality, he had also shoved Victoria into a car. But that car hadn't held this kind of quiet intimacy, only the heavy stench of blood and her desperate pleas.

He had grabbed her by the hair, ignoring the wounds still bleeding on her body, forcibly dragging her to that filthy underground casino, making her win that million dollars while injured and bleeding.

In that reality, her face had been covered in tear tracks and clear red marks from being slapped.

But now, in this illusion, she was so beautiful it hurt to look at her, like a rose in full bloom.

The car came to a smooth stop in front of a quiet Italian restaurant.

The place was on a secluded street in Varellia, far from the noise of the main roads. The street lamps cast a soft glow on the sidewalk, warm light spilling from the windows—completely different from Asteria City's cold, tense bustle.

Edward walked around to her side, opened the car door for her, then led her straight into the restaurant.

After the waiter seated them, Edward barely glanced at the menu before ordering a table full of dishes he remembered she would like.

When he got to the last dessert, he looked up, his voice low but his tone firm. "For the Italian cheesecake, replace all the blueberries with raspberries. Don't let any blueberry juice touch it."

He remembered her severe blueberry allergy, and he remembered she preferred the sweet-tart taste of raspberries.

Victoria had been fiddling with her napkin when she suddenly looked up at those words. A flash of shock crossed her clear eyes, her heart beating fast and tight.

She felt an unexpected warmth. She hadn't expected someone as proud and cold as Edward to remember such small preferences, or that life-threatening restriction.

Edward caught that touched look in her eyes, and his expression softened involuntarily.

But the real him was simultaneously dragged back into another memory.

In that true past, he had never been any kind of considerate gentleman. On their wedding night, he had personally brought her a plate of blueberry pie, forced her jaw open, and shoved those things that could kill her into her mouth.

He had watched her break out in hives, watched her throat swell, watched her collapse on the floor convulsing and suffocating. He had even cruelly mocked her, saying this was atonement for Anne.

In his heart, he wanted to tear himself apart. I deserve to die.

If he could, he would destroy the hands that had once hurt her right now.

In the illusion, the food arrived quickly, filling the table completely.

During the meal, they talked about recent events. From her words, Edward gathered that she often stayed up late at her studio working on jewelry designs, sometimes skipping dinner entirely.

Edward's hand holding the knife and fork froze. His expression darkened immediately, his gaze locking onto her, his tone turning stern.

"Victoria, if I hear you treating your body like this again, I'll start bringing food to your place every day starting tomorrow. I'll also arrange for someone to watch you all day to make sure you finish every meal on time."

Victoria muttered back, "You're too controlling!"

But her face was slightly flushed. She lowered her head, hiding a softness in her eyes she hadn't even noticed herself, and quietly picked up her utensils, eating more seriously than before.

Watching her obediently eat, Edward's eyes stung and even felt hot.

In reality, what good health did she have left?

He had locked her in an airless room full of poisonous snakes, letting her suffer endless torment. David had once pointed at her festering burns and severe malnutrition, angrily saying that everything most important to her as a designer was destroyed.

He had also burned down the garden her grandfather left her, pushing her to a mental breakdown, making her run into the street where she was hit by a car, leaving her permanently disabled.

He had personally crushed her life force, yet now in this fabricated illusion, he was pretending to be the perfect boyfriend who cared about her health.

The atmosphere at the table grew tense again with her silence. Edward took a deep breath, pushing down the regret that was nearly driving him crazy, trying to break the silence.

He used a half-joking tone, though it held affection. "Coming to Varellia, why have you gotten so quiet? Back in Asteria City, didn't you love arguing with me?"

In his memory, the teenage Victoria had been proud and radiant, like a thorny red rose.

This time, she didn't play along with his joke.

Victoria set down her silver knife and fork, the shyness and warmth draining completely from her face, leaving only an unsettling seriousness. She looked straight into Edward's eyes, asking directly and sharply, "Edward, why did you come all the way to Varellia to find me? What do you really want?"

She didn't wait for his answer before her tone grew urgent, her hands clasped tightly together on the table.

"Does Anne know you're here? Leaving her behind to come find me, she must be so upset! Edward, I never wanted to steal my sister's happiness, and I don't want to affect your relationship with her!"

She bit down on every word with worry and heavy guilt.

Hearing Anne's name, the smile on Edward's face froze completely. He slowly set down his utensils, his expression becoming unprecedentedly serious, even carrying a kind of solemn restraint.

In that horrifying reality, Anne was already dead. She had died at her own wedding. Victoria had been branded with the crime of 'killing her sister' and was trampled and tortured by him for years, eventually driven to develop split personalities.

But in this dream where he desperately wanted a happy ending, he couldn't let tragedy happen again.

"Victoria." He looked at her, his voice soft but every word clear. "Anne and I have already broken up."

Victoria froze completely, her mind feeling like something had exploded inside it, going blank.

A few seconds later, guilt and panic surged up together.

Broken up?

Was it because of her?

It must be because of her.

She thought of their embrace at the airport she hadn't refused. She thought of Edward's special attention toward her. She suddenly became certain that she had destroyed Anne's love.

Pain, conflict, and self-loathing reached their peak in this moment. She felt like an unforgivable sinner.