Melissa's voice was soft, almost pleading as she called out, "Marcus."

Stepping from the elevator, Marcus fished out his key, his voice icy, "Miss Brown, you seem to be at the wrong door."

As he opened the door, about to enter, Melissa sprang up, clutching his arm. "I need to talk to you. The other day, I said what I did because... because..."

“You thought it was amusing, right? You assumed I'd always tolerate and forgive you, didn't you?

Marcus interjected, his tone biting as he shook off her grasp.

“Look, Melissa, it's over.

This is what you wanted, isn't it?

Do you find it amusing to deceive me time and again?"

Melissa's voice quivered with anxiety. "I didn't... deceive you.

Marcus, I do care for you."

His gaze on her was piercing, devoid of the warmth and playfulness once there. He withdrew a cigarette, lighting it with his head bowed.

A long stream of smoke curled from his lips as he replied with chilling calm, “I don't care about what you feel. If you feel being with me was a loss, I can compensate."

He took a drag on his cigarette, pulling out his checkbook.

Leaning it against the wall, he glanced at her sideways. “Would ten million suffice? If not, let's say thirty million, or fifty."

He ultimately scribbled down eighty million, tore the check, and flung it at her.

Melissa stood frozen, her eyes blinking in disbelief. "So, no matter what I say, you just don't want me back anymore?"

"Yes," Marcus confirmed unyieldingly. "So stop bothering me. I might soon have a wife. Your persistence could complicate things for me."

His words were harsh, reflecting a desire to sever all ties with her.

Melissa's expression betrayed pain, yet to Marcus, this brought a sense of satisfaction.

Did her pain run deep, or was it merely a facade? Perhaps she would soon claim affection for someone else, like Ryan.