---- Chapter 8 The city lights glimmered coldly before dawn arrived. Lars had just stepped out of Pearl's bedroom when he saw the message. (Lars, it's over between us.] Bianca would never suggest a break-up lightly. Lars immediately called her back, but a system. notification popped up instead. [You have been removed from the contact list.] His heart jolted. He stood up abruptly, ready to leave. "Are you going to leave me?" Pearl's voice drifted over from the staircase, weak and hurt. She stood in the hallway, looking just like the girl from ten years ago, tearful and trembling in the closet after being threatened by her stepfather. That night, Lars had kicked down the door and pointed a gun at that man. From then on, Pearl saw him as her only safe harbor. Lars sighed, halting in his steps. "Don't be afraid. I'm ---- here." Pearl's eyes were red as she whispered, "If I had agreed to be with you back then, you wouldn't be so tired now." If Pearl had been his girlfriend, everything truly would have been easier. She wasn't like Bianca... Too strong, too sharp, and too hard to handle. But Lars knew that Bianca was the cornerstone of his entire career. She was the pillar that supported his rise in Eastwind City's financial world. He patted Pearl's head gently, comforting her. "Don't think too much about it. Bianca's just throwing a tantrum. She'll be fine after I calm her down." "Is she really serious this time?" Pearl asked. "She wouldn't," Lars said. "Are you sure she still loves you?" Pearl asked again. Lars fell silent. He remembered the night Bianca stayed at the negotiating table through her gastric. That stubbornness and drive had carried him all the way to ---- where he was now. "She can't live without me," he said, his voice full of certainty. Pearl laughed softly. ''Then let her stew for a while. See if she panics this time." While Pearl was wrapped up in Lars's arms, I had already arrived at Wolven International Airport in Botolph City. I wasn't expecting him to pick me up during such a stormy morning. Him, being Royce Farrell. Royce wore a black cashmere coat, standing in an elegant and composed pose, his driver and assistant trailing behind him. "Traveling so light?" "Most things aren't worth bringing," I replied mildly. Royce took my suitcase and opened the car door for me. "Let's get you home." I got in, and the warmth of the car gradually dispelled the cold around me. Catching a glimpse of Royce sitting beside me, an unexpected calm settled over ---- me. As soon as I relaxed, I began to feel drowsy. "Finally decided to come back to Botolph City?" Royce asked. His sudden question caught me off guard, as I was half -asleep. I was too tired to open my eyes, and just mumbled, "I'm back because I felt like it." A soft laugh drifted through the air. When I opened my eyes again, my head was resting on Royce's shoulder. "Sorry," I said hastily, "I got your coat wet." "It's fine. We're here." Discover our latest featured short drama reel. Watch now and enjoy the story!