The Divorced Heiress’s Revenge

In the hotel's rear garden, Justin stumbled to a halt by the pond, gasping for air as though drowning. For a long time, he could not steady himself.

His body trembled as he bent down, grabbed a handful of snow, and squeezed it tightly. The biting cold seeped into his skin but did nothing to relieve the throbbing pain in his temples. His eyes turned scarlet as he shoved the snow into his mouth, swallowing it all.

No matter what he did, he could not suppress it. He needed his medication.

"Young Master Justin? Why are you here?" Clarice's surprised voice came from behind him.

Justin's breath hitched as he clenched the snow in his hand. Veins bulged along his knuckles as he straightened his back and turned to face her.

"Just getting some air," Justin said hoarsely.

Clarice observed him closely, narrowing her eyes slightly. "Young Master Justin, you look unwell. Are you feeling alright?"

"It's nothing." A bead of sweat slipped quietly down his handsome face.

"Young Master Justin, if you run out of medication, you must let me know right away." Her gaze grew colder as she closed the distance between them. "You need to take it on time and in the right amount, or how else will your condition improve? Over time..."

sharply. "I'm much better now. I don't need

glint flickered in Clarice's eyes before she replaced it with a warm

frowned and turned

apart. Clarice looked up at him with wide, sparkling eyes, so close that the mist from her breath touched his

rock formation, hiding herself. Yet, unable to resist, she peered through a gap between the stones,

like

of her ivory coat, Clarice pulled out a

I wish you a happy

lashes, his voice detached. "I don't

my birthday."

known each other for a while. It's nothing extravagant. Can't you indulge me?" Clarice blinked her large eyes innocently, a hint of hurt in them. "I've already bought it. There's no reason for me to take it back. If you don't want it, throw it away outside, but don't return

almost

Justin's starry eyes flickered.

that moment, her gestures bore a resemblance

always pouting. Yet no matter how she