Even if he had reasons to protect her, why couldn’t he trust that she could handle the risks and pressures alongside him?
Why did he choose lies and deceit as the foundation of their relationship?
She wanted his honesty and openness, but he never considered giving that to her.
Every promise he made now seemed empty, and each gesture of sincerity felt like just an act to comfort her.
It was the kind of arrogance only those with power could have.
She felt he just wanted to control everything, leading him to fabricate it all.
He had planned everything from the start, manipulating and playing with her at his will.
The pain in Bianca’s heart was overwhelming. She felt the need to drown her sorrows in alcohol.
She stood up and walked to the living room, grabbed a bottle of wine from the cabinet, and poured herself a glass. She drank it quickly.
One glass after another, she emptied the bottle.
Lying on the sofa, she replayed every moment with Dave in her mind: his gentle touches, his thoughtfulness, his concern, his warm hugs, his tender embraces, his tempting lips…
Bianca slapped her forehead, trying to stay calm.
How genuine had his kindness really been?
After being deceived and hurt so many times, Bianca doubted her own judgment.
She felt like she couldn’t tell right from wrong anymore. She built a strong wall around herself to protect herself from more pain.
She had once let her guard down for Dave, but now, because of him, she was even more guarded.
Bianca wasn’t much of a drinker.
After finishing the bottle of wine, she felt fine at first, but soon, dizziness took over, and the room began to spin.
Just then, a waiter approached the door with a tray in his hands.
Seeing Zane standing outside, the waiter bowed slightly and said, “Sir, this is the honeyed water for each guest. It’s great for hangovers. I’m supposed to deliver it to every room.”
Zane looked at the kettle on the tray. The luxury cruise usually served honeyed water to guests who had been drinking.
Noticing Bianca’s empty glass, he figured she had been drinking.
He turned and pressed the doorbell to check if she needed some tea but got no response.
He rang the doorbell a few more times but still got no answer.
Bianca had just entered the room. There was no way she could have fallen asleep that quickly.
Even if she had, the doorbell should have woken her. Thinking back to the night’s events and Dave’s instructions, Zane suddenly felt restless.
Thankfully, he still had the room key Dave had given him.
Worried about Bianca, he couldn’t wait any longer.
He unlocked the door and rushed inside.
After leaving Lucas’s room, Dave walked to Skylar’s room.
He rang the doorbell, and the door opened a little. Skylar peeked out, her eyes red and puffy as if she had been crying.
“It’s me,” Dave said coldly.
Seeing Dave, Skylar felt a rush of joy.
Lucas had called her earlier, saying he would send Dave over.
This was a big chance, and she decided to do whatever it took to keep Dave, no matter the cost.
She had purposely cried to make her eyes look red and swollen.
Tearfully, she asked, “Are you here to mock me?” Instead of opening the door fully, she sniffled and stayed partly hidden, her eyes getting even redder.
Dave frowned and said coldly, “Grandpa told me you’ve been hiding in your room, avoiding everyone. He’s worried you might do something drastic, so he sent me to check on you.”
His cold tone hurt Skylar deeply. She bit her lip, about to speak, but Dave continued, “Since you’re fine, I’ll leave now.”
Without a second thought, he turned to go.
Panicking, Skylar flung the door open and ran after him, shouting, “Dave, stop right there!”
Dave stopped but didn’t turn around.
Skylar clenched her hands, her voice shaking with a mix of bitterness and resentment.
“If it weren’t for your grandpa, you wouldn’t care if I lived or died, would you?” she said, her voice rough with emotion.
Dave slowly turned to face her, and his eyes turned cold, like a knife to her heart.
“Yes,” he said flatly.
That one word crushed Skylar’s hope completely. Her eyes burned with anger as she glared at Dave.
“Dave, don’t forget that I saved your life. I pulled you out of that cold, damp cellar. I sacrificed everything to rescue you, and I still carry the scar!”
Skylar shouted, holding out her hand. A deep scar ran across her palm, a stark and haunting reminder.
Dave’s brow furrowed tightly, a flicker of surprise softening the usual coldness in his eyes.
“Have you forgotten already? I tried so many times to lift you, but I was just a young girl, and you were a boy. Finally, I found a strong stick and tied myself to a pillar with a rope, using all my strength to pull you out. This scar, a reminder of everything we went through, proves what I did, even though I kept quiet so you wouldn’t feel guilty.”
As Skylar spoke, tears streamed down her face. She lowered her head, trying to hold back her sobs, her shoulders trembling with emotion.
Dave remembered the incident clearly. He recalled how she had tightly clenched her right hand afterward, though he hadn’t thought much of it at the time.
“People say a scar on the palm is a bad omen. Maybe that’s why fate has been so cruel to me-why my parents died, why I’ve been ridiculed, why life has always been a struggle, and why betrayal has followed me despite everything. All because of this scar!”
Dave’s eyes darkened with a rare emotion as he looked at the scar Skylar had carried for him, guilt stabbing at his heart.
“I’m so tired.” Skylar pulled her scarred hand back and hid behind it.
She lifted her eyes and looked directly into Dave’s tired eyes. “Anyway, you don’t care about me; my life feels pointless. You can leave now. Let me fade away. If tomorrow’s tide brings my lifeless body, don’t be surprised. It’s my fate, and it doesn’t matter to you.”
With that, Skylar turned to go inside. Dave’s gaze darkened, and he followed her into the room.
When she heard his footsteps, Skylar couldn’t help but smile, quickly hiding her relief. She turned to him and asked, “Weren’t you leaving? Why are you still here?”