Chapter 3

Today was my birthday.

In the past, he would start planning weeks in advance, filling the entire day with breathtaking surprises and romance.

This year, I sat alone in this massive, empty mansion. Julian had left for the office early in the morning without leaving a single word behind, treating today like any other meaningless weekday.

I curled up on the sofa, burying my face into my knees, desperately hiding my pathetic state from the world.

Around dusk, the doorbell rang.

A ridiculous, desperate spark of hope flared in my chest. Was Julian home?

I opened the door, only to find a delivery courier standing on the porch.

"Chloe Vance? Birthday delivery for you. Please sign here."

I froze. After signing, I held the massive, beautifully wrapped box in my arms, my hands shaking violently.

It had to be him! He must have arranged this before he vanished!

Tearing through the wrapping paper, I found a breathtaking crystal music box inside. Carved onto the base was an inscription:

To my love, Chloe.

Tears instantly blinded my vision.

It was him. It really was him! He hadn’t forgotten me completely!

Right then, the front door clicked open. Julian walked in.

Seeing the gift box in my arms and the tears streaming down my face, his expression darkened in a heartbeat.

"What is that?" he demanded, walking over with a hostile tone.

"It's... my birthday gift," I whispered, instinctively clutching the box tighter against my chest.

"From whom?" he pressed, his eyes turning arctic.

I bit my lip, refusing to answer.

Understanding dawned on him, and a cruel sneer spread across his face. "Sent by that Tasker?" He ripped the box right out of my arms. "He really doesn't know when to disappear."

"Give it back!" Panicking, I lunged forward to grab it.

"Trash from a con artist doesn't belong under my roof." A wild, possessive rage flared in Julian's eyes. "I told you, he’s never coming back! Why can’t you get that through your thick skull?!"

He seemed to detest this gift with every fiber of his being, disgusted by any trace left behind by the man who had possessed him.

Gripping the box, he turned toward the balcony window, ready to hurl it into the night.

"No! Stop!" I screamed, throwing myself forward to intercept him.

My desperate reaction only infuriated him more. He whipped his arm back, and the box flew out of his grasp—not out the window, but crashing brutally onto the polished marble floor.

CRASH!

A deafening shatter of crystal rang through the cavernous living room.

The delicate music box was completely obliterated. Innumerable crystal shards scattered across the floor, glinting coldly under the chandelier. Nestled among the broken pieces were dozens of tightly rolled paper scrolls.

Trembling, I dropped to my knees and picked up the closest scroll, unrolling it with shaking fingers.

It was covered in his bold, familiar handwriting:

Day 1: She smiled today, showing the sweetest dimples. I think I'm in love.

I picked up another one:

Day 10: She finally called me babe today. I'm over the moon.

Day 30: She whispered that she loves me. In that moment, I felt like I owned the entire universe.

It wasn't just a music box.

It was a memory lamp crafted from countless handwritten confessions of love, documenting every single moment the Tasker had truly fallen for me.

This was my lover’s final birthday gift to me!

And now, it was smashed to pieces.

Shattered beyond repair.

Just like my heart.

Darkness rushed over my vision, and a wave of pure agony swallowed me whole.

Right before I blacked out, I vaguely thought I heard Julian shout my name in sheer panic: "Chloe!"

When I woke up, the air smelled heavily of antiseptic. I was in a hospital room.

An IV needle was taped to the back of my hand.

Julian was sitting by the bedside, his expression unreadable and tense.

"What happened to me?" I rasped, my throat raw.

He stayed quiet for a long moment before speaking slowly. "You passed out. The doctor said... you're pregnant. Six weeks."

Pregnant?

My hand instinctively moved to my flat stomach.

There was a tiny life growing inside me?

His baby!

A flicker of joy barely had time to spark before Julian’s next words doused it in freezing water.

He stared at my belly without a trace of joy. His gaze was full of scrutiny and naked disgust.

"This child..." he said, his voice low but cuttingly clear, "might carry my DNA. But to me, just like that Tasker, it shouldn't exist."

In his eyes, my baby was nothing more than an illegitimate mistake.