Chapter 685

"I won't fall apart."

Vivian Bennett stood before the floor-to-ceiling window, her voice soft.

Sunlight streamed through the glass, casting a faint halo on her pale face.

"Coming to see you proves at least one thing—I still want to live."

Matthew Klein sat on the sofa behind her, holding a cup of tea that had long gone cold.

He watched her slender back, his expression complex.

"Vivian, what you're doing is still running away, at its core."

"What's wrong with running away?"

Vivian turned around, her face expressionless.

"If I don't forget all this, I'll never be happy. Those memories are like knives. Every time I remember, they cut my heart again."

Matthew sighed.

He set down his teacup and stood, walking to her side.

"You loved him so deeply once, loved him to your very bones. That's your knot. You can't untie it, and you can't let it go."

He paused, his voice softening slightly.

"But at least for now, we need to move forward. When you can feel the warmth of life again, when you taste happiness once more... perhaps then you'll learn to make peace with the past."

"Peace?"

Vivian's lips twisted into a bitter smile.

"I don't need peace. I just need to forget."

She walked to the coffee table and picked up a file.

"Is everything ready?"

Matthew looked at her, silent for a few seconds.

"Are you absolutely sure?"

"I'm sure."

Vivian opened the file, her fingertips tracing the pages.

"The original plan was to use the opportunity with my enemy to stage an explosion. Make everyone believe I died in the blast, with no remains left."

She lifted her head, her eyes terrifyingly calm.

"This way, it won't raise too much suspicion, and it will make him give up completely."

"He'll think you're dead. He'll suffer for the rest of his life."

Matthew said quietly.

Vivian shook her head.

"I don't want to use death to punish him. I just... don't want any more ties."

She closed the file, her voice very soft.

"A clean break is best for everyone."

Matthew looked at her and suddenly smiled.

The smile held understanding, and also helplessness.

"I see."

He took the file, his tone turning firm.

"If this is your resolve, I'll help you. Everything has been arranged. We're just waiting for the right moment."

Vivian nodded.

She walked back to the window, gazing at the distant skyscrapers.

The sunlight was blinding, yet she felt cold all over.

This time, she must not fail.

She had come this far. There was no turning back.

Liam Sullivan lay unconscious in his bedroom.

He was usually a light sleeper, alert and easily awakened by the slightest sound.

But this time, it was as if he had sunk into the deep sea. His consciousness was blurred, his body weak and heavy.

He slept until the afternoon.

His phone on the nightstand vibrated wildly, its ringtone sharp and piercing.

He forced his eyes open, his head splitting with pain.

He reached for the phone and answered.

"Mr. Sullivan, the meeting has been postponed twice already. You..."

His secretary's anxious voice came through the receiver.

Liam frowned, his voice hoarse.

"I know. I'll be there soon."

He hung up and pushed himself up.

His forehead was covered in cold sweat. His pajamas were damp and clung unpleasantly to his skin.

His throat burned with pain. His head felt heavy, his steps unsteady.

He touched his forehead. It was frighteningly hot.

A fever.

He stumbled into the bathroom, turned on the cold water, and splashed his face vigorously.

The man in the mirror was pale, with heavy dark circles under his eyes.

The knuckles of his right hand were badly swollen, an unnatural red.

He ignored it, took a quick shower, and changed his clothes.

When he went downstairs, the living room was empty.

He looked around. The familiar figure was nowhere to be seen.

A wave of disappointment washed over him.

Of course. Knowing he was home, she would avoid him.

The old butler emerged from the kitchen and hurried over when he saw him.

"Young Master, you're awake? Would you like something to eat?"

Liam shook his head.

"Did she... call?"

As he asked, he held little hope.

If she wouldn't even come home, why would she call?

But the butler nodded.

"Madam called around two, asking if you were home. She said she needed to speak with you. I told her you were resting."

Liam froze.

His heart gave a violent thump.

"Why didn't you wake me?"

His voice was urgent, tinged with frustration.

"That was two hours ago!"

He turned and ran back upstairs, grabbed his phone, and dialed Vivian's number.

The call connected quickly.

"Vivian."

His voice held unconcealed eagerness.

"I heard you called me at noon. What did you need?"