After several days apart, the man who had once been refined, dignified, and full of confidence was now gone without a trace.

Sitting before her was Christopher, his complexion dark and tired, his usually meticulous hair slightly messy, and his once sharp eyes filled with red bloodshot lines.

The former Chairman Iverson, once noble and poised, was now nothing more than a fallen, destitute prisoner.

But even in this state, upon hearing that Bella had come to see him, Christopher still made an excuse to visit the restroom, combing his messy hair and quickly washing his face.

The pride of being the Iverson family's young master had been thoroughly shattered in his first year in Sentania when he was still young.

From that moment on, the world no longer had Young Master Iverson, only Christopher, who climbed up over the bones of countless people, corrupted by evil and driven only by hatred.

He cleaned himself up because he was going to see Bella.

Yes, he still loved her.

But he had come to fully understand that, from the beginning, he was never worthy of her. Forcing something that was not meant to have harmed both of them.

by the glass, Christopher and Bella locked eyes. He looked at her quietly, silent

the bruise on his lip and the wound on his forehead. Indifferently, she asked, "Did you get

briefly, the

many strangers who hate me. I'm ruthless, cruel, and

at fighting. There's no reason you should be

smiled weakly but was still sincere in every word he said to

had nightmares night after night. When I woke up in the morning, all

my shortsightedness isn't severe. Wearing them made me feel like I

wouldn't just surrender quietly. I

and face judgment?" Christopher's dim eyes

gentle and lingering as if

it could not erase the endless pain and resentment in

"Bella, you've lost weight.

tracing her features again and again, greedily wanting to imprint this final image of her into his memory and take it with him to

emotion inside her. "I know asking you is likely in vain

consider

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