This, she believed, was their last encounter.

"I'm leaving. You won't be troubled by me again."

Marcus remained still, the dim light casting shadows across his once tender, now indifferent features. His eyes, once warm, now held traces of animosity.

As Melissa approached the guest room door, Marcus' voice halted her.

“yadt."

Her body tensed.

Approaching, Marcus extended a check from the tea table.

It was for ten million.

He placed it in her hand with a chilling detachment. "Remember to take the pill."

Tears brimmed in Melissa's eyes, but she lifted her head slightly, refusing to let them fall.

After a moment, she steadied her voice and replied, "Mr. Fowler, I'll remember the pill. As for the check, I don't need it.”

With no desire to linger, Melissa hurried away.

The check slipped from Marcus' grasp, fluttering to the floor. Marcus, taking a moment, stooped to retrieve and tear it in half.

He then moved to the bedside table, picking up the ring.

His fingers traced over it, as if feeling the lingering warmth of Melissa's touch. The bed, too, seemed to retain traces of her presence.

But she was gone, driven away by his own actions.

He doubted she would return.

It marked the end of whatever they had shared.

A self-mocking laugh escaped Marcus as he mused on the folly of their relationship. It was a fantasy, a delusion he no longer wished to entertain.

Downstairs, Melissa faced the chill of early summer's dawn. Her clothes, still damp, clung to her as the rain ceased.