Angela's eyes fluttered open, only to be greeted by the sharp pain of a headache, as if the weight of the past few days was still pressing down on her. The dull throb in her temples seemed to mirror the chaotic swirl of emotions in her mind. Her stomach churned uneasily, nausea gripping her as she attempted to sit up.
The sterile hospital room felt suffocating, the walls closing in with every shallow breath. She closed her eyes, trying to steady herself, but the image of Jonas's face—his cold, calculating stare—flashed in her mind again.
Why can't I shake him off?
It had been a night , but the memory clung to her like a shadow. His words. His gaze. That damn smirk that had cut through her, leaving her feeling smaller than she ever had before. She didn't want to think about him—didn't want to relive the pain of what he had done. But her mind wouldn't let go. She couldn't ignore the fact that Jonas was no ordinary man, and there was a part of her that feared he would always find a way back into her life, regardless of how much she tried to push him out.
Please, she prayed silently, her voice barely a whisper in her heart, let me never cross paths with him again.
Her thoughts lingered in the silence of the room, until reality crept in again. Today was the day she would be discharged. The thought filled her with a strange mix of relief and dread. It meant she could finally leave this sterile place, but it also meant stepping back into a world that no longer felt like hers. She couldn't keep hiding away forever.
Angela swung her legs out of bed slowly, the movement making her dizzy. She steadied herself, standing shakily as she glanced around the room. The hospital had become a temporary refuge, a place where she could at least forget about the pressure of her real life. But it wasn't home. And it wasn't where she wanted to be anymore.
She moved toward the window and stared out at the blanket of snow falling from the sky, the coldness of winter mirroring the chill in her heart. The peacefulness of the view only served to remind her of how far she had fallen. How much had changed in such a short time.
A bitter smile curled on her lips.
How quickly everything can change.
Her life had once seemed so simple, even though she never really had the luxury of peace. She had been on the fast track to becoming something greater, someone who would matter. But now? Now, she felt like a stranger to herself. Everything she had worked for—everything she had believed in—had crumbled at the hands of the very people she thought she could trust.
But there was one thing that hadn't crumbled.
Angela had always considered her role in the World Alliance Agency as nothing more than a hobby. A diversion. Something to keep her occupied when she felt overwhelmed by the emptiness of her life. But now, it was the very thing that had kept her afloat. Her titles, the work she'd done, had provided her with financial stability. Enough to ensure that, at least for now, she wouldn't have to beg for anyone's help.
And that—though it may not have been the life she envisioned—gave her a sense of control. A sliver of hope.
The villa on West Street, the one she had always loved for its tranquility and privacy, was hers to keep. Not just a house, but a home. It was a reminder that she wasn't defined by the wealth of the billionaires she had once surrounded herself with, especially not Brad . She had earned this on her own. It wasn't just a mansion. It was her sanctuary from the world she didn't belong to anymore.
Angela let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. For once, she wasn't entirely powerless. She was free—free from Lilian's judgment, free from the suffocating influence of her family, and most importantly, free from the expectations that had once bound her.
But even with that sense of freedom, the pain remained. Brad's betrayal had wounded her deeper than she cared to admit. And though she had the strength to walk away, there was still an emotional fracture she hadn't been able to heal. She was no longer the same person she had been before she met him—and she wasn't sure if she could ever return to who she had been before the storm hit.
As she stood there, gazing at the snowfall, she realized something: the past couldn't define her anymore. It was time to stop being a victim of her circumstances. The world wasn't going to wait for her to catch up. And neither could she.
She glanced at the door, her exit just within reach. Her mind raced with possibilities, but one thing was clear. She wasn't going to walk out of here as the same woman who walked in.
The woman who had once lived under the shadow of her family's expectations, the one who had spent so long seeking approval from people who never really cared, was gone. That woman had been replaced by someone stronger. Someone who knew her worth, who didn't need the validation of those who had betrayed her.
The pain from the past would always be there, lurking in the shadows, but Angela would learn to live with it. And maybe, one day, she'd be able to face Brad again—not as the broken woman he left behind, but as someone who had reclaimed her power, her strength, and her future.
She turned away from the window, determined to put one foot in front of the other.
Her life was just beginning.
Angela pulled herself together, the weight of her emotions momentarily set aside. She had a goal—today she would leave the hospital, reclaim her freedom, and start a new chapter. But before she could step out of this sterile environment and into the life waiting for her, there were a few matters to take care of.
As she prepared for her discharge, the reality of what she had to face loomed over her. She had avoided the inevitable conversation with her family and Lilian for long enough. There were no more excuses to be made; it was time to leave the past behind, whether she was ready or not.
She pulled on her jacket, tucking her hair behind her ear, and glanced in the mirror. The woman staring back at her seemed different—her skin was paler, her features sharper, and the gleam of her eyes seemed to reflect a woman hardened by life. The soft, carefree girl she had been before, who relied on the smiles of others for validation, was nowhere to be found.
With a heavy sigh, Angela walked out of the hospital room. The crisp air of the hospital lobby greeted her as she moved toward the exit, her steps slow and deliberate. She knew this wasn't the end of the road, just the beginning of something new.
When she reached the street, she hailed a cab, the familiar hum of the city filling the air. As the cab sped down the road, Angela's mind drifted. She found herself thinking about the villa in West Street again—its luxurious isolation. There, she could breathe without the looming presence of the people who had tried to control her life. The mansion was more than just a symbol of her success—it was her sanctuary, where she could finally live on her own terms.
As she arrived at the villa, she felt a sense of calm wash over her. The tall gates opened with a soft click, revealing the sprawling property beyond. The mansion stood tall and regal, its sleek lines and modern architecture contrasting with the more traditional buildings surrounding it. The place felt like it belonged to a different life, a different person. But in that moment, Angela knew she was meant to be there.
The warmth of the interior contrasted with the chill of the snow outside. She kicked off her shoes at the door, feeling the soft rug beneath her feet. Every corner of the house was a reminder of her strength—of the things she had earned through her own hard work, even if it had been an afterthought before.
Angela took a deep breath, allowing the comfort of the space to settle over her. It was finally hers. She had carved out this little piece of solitude for herself, far away from the people who had tried to manipulate and control her.
Still, something tugged at her heart—an emptiness she couldn't quite explain. Despite everything she had, despite the power she now wielded, she couldn't help but feel like she was missing something.
As the days passed, Angela found herself slowly healing. She threw herself into the work she had put on hold for so long—projects and collaborations that allowed her to utilize her skills in a way that made her proud. But even in her busiest moments, when she was lost in her work, her thoughts inevitably wandered to Jonas.
What does he want from me?
She could feel his presence looming over her, even though they hadn't spoken since their last encounter. There was something about him that unsettled her, something that had yet to be fully understood. She tried to push the thoughts aside, but they resurfaced again and again, as if the universe wanted her to face the man who had changed everything.
Then, as if the world had a twisted sense of timing, the doorbell rang. Angela's heart skipped a beat. Her mind immediately went to the worst possible scenario. Who was it? Are they here to rub salt in her wounds?
She walked cautiously to the door, her steps quiet on the hardwood floors. When she opened the door, it wasn't Brad standing there. It was Lilian.
Lilian's smile was as fake as always, but it was the way she stood that bothered Angela—the smug tilt of her chin, as if she owned the world. Behind her, Brad stood silently, arms crossed, his eyes scanning the space with barely concealed interest.
"We need to talk," Lilian said, her voice syrupy sweet. "I thought it would be nice if we could discuss the family situation. You know, after everything that happened." She glanced at Angela, her eyes twinkling with the faintest hint of malice.
Angela stepped aside, motioning for them to enter. She had no desire to speak to them, but part of her knew she couldn't keep avoiding them forever.
As they walked into the spacious living room, Lilian wasted no time in settling herself on the couch, while Brad lingered by the door, looking disinterested. His presence was barely a comfort to Angela; if anything, it made her feel more uncomfortable.
"So," Lilian began, her tone dripping with sweetness, "I'm sure you've heard by now. Brad and I are getting married. Christmas Eve, in fact."
Angela's heart sank. The words hung in the air like a heavy fog, suffocating her. The thought of Lilian and Brad together was almost too much to bear, especially after everything that had happened.
"Congratulations," Angela said, her voice flat. "I'm sure you'll be very happy."
Lilian smiled like she'd won a prize, completely oblivious to the bitterness seeping through Angela's words.
"Thank you," Lilian said, her smile tight. "It'll be a beautiful ceremony. I'm so glad you're coming. You wouldn't want to miss it."
Angela's eyes narrowed, and she instinctively took a step back. "I wasn't invited," she said, her voice cool. "So, no need to worry about me attending."
"Oh, but we'd love for you to come," Lilian said, her tone shifting slightly. "After all, it's a family event. And you don't want to miss the wedding of the year, do you?"
Angela resisted the urge to snap. Lilian was baiting her, hoping to get some reaction. But Angela wouldn't give her that satisfaction.
"I'll think about it," she replied stiffly, walking toward the kitchen. "But for now, I think it's best you leave."
Angela's lips curved into a cold smile as she leaned against the counter, watching Lilian preen on the couch like a queen in her court. "And also," Angela added, pouting her lips in mock indignation, "always act properly when you're in someone else's house. After all, this isn't one of the Vanghue family properties."
Lilian's smile froze mid-flash, her cheeks twitching slightly as if she were struggling to maintain her composure. The air around her seemed to chill, and for a moment, Angela swore she saw the mask of sweetness slip, revealing the sharp edges of Lilian's true self. But in an instant, the frozen expression was replaced with her practiced smile, though the cheer in her voice now rang hollow.
"Of course," Lilian said, her words measured, as though she were forcing them out through clenched teeth. "How silly of me. You're absolutely right." But there was no mistaking the way her gaze darkened, like a storm cloud rolling in, her happiness visibly deflating.
Angela let her gaze wander to Brad, whose silence had become almost deafening. He stood a little apart from the conversation, his arms still crossed as his eyes darted between the two women. Once, she might have found that brooding silence attractive—a sign of mystery, of depth.
But now?
Staring at his face, Angela felt a pang of disbelief. How could I have been so blind? She thought. This man, the one she had once deemed the epitome of charm and perfection, now seemed utterly ordinary. His sharp cheekbones and piercing gaze, which once made her heart race, now struck her as calculated and cold. There was no warmth, no sincerity behind his sculpted façade. She had been so stupid to think Brad was the most handsome, the best option for her. He was nothing more than an illusion—a perfectly wrapped package with nothing of value inside.
For a brief moment, Angela wondered if this newfound clarity was the result of her recent struggles. Perhaps the betrayal had peeled away the layers of her own naivety, forcing her to see people for who they truly were. Or maybe all this tension and turmoil were leading her toward something far more meaningful. She smiled faintly at the thought. Maybe this was the special Christmas package prepared for me by the goodness of December.
The idea sent a flicker of amusement through her heart, easing the bitterness that had taken root there. She turned away from Brad and Lilian, no longer interested in their presence. They could stay or go—it didn't matter. Angela had more important things to focus on, starting with herself.
What a thick skinned hypocrite, scanning the entire network system just to find her new apartment.
The tension in the room thickened as Angela turned her back to them, feeling a mix of anger and disbelief. How could Lilian be so manipulative? Did she really think she could just waltz back into Angela's life like nothing had happened?
As they left, Angela felt a flicker of something—whether it was anger or sadness, she wasn't sure. But one thing was certain: she wouldn't let Lilian, or anyone else, dictate her life anymore.