The Apex I Missed Her Heart Was Never My Trophy

Prologue I spent fifteen years secretly in love with Julian Vance. When I was eleven, he took me from the orphanage and brought me to his home, promising that no one would ever hurt me again. I thought that as long as I stayed by his side, I would one day become his wife. Until he brought home a woman who looked strikingly like me—and announced right in front of my face that she was the one he was going to marry. I finally realized that fifteen years of devotion were nothing more than my own foolish delusion. At one in the morning, I signed an overseas transfer contract to become a core engineer for a top-tier racing team. This time, I was leaving the Vance family. I was leaving Julian Vance behind, and I was going to live a life that actually belonged to me. Elena's POV The living room of the Vance estate was ablaze with light. I stood frozen in front of the coffee table, trembling from head to toe. My eyes were glued to the two people sitting together on the loveseat opposite me. Julian Vance, and right beside him, a woman with her head lowered who looked eerily like me—Nora Sullivan. "Say that again?" My voice cracked, rising in pure disbelief. I pointed at Nora, my eyes burning red. "You want her moving in?! Under what status is she living here?!" Julian was leaning back lazily against the sofa cushions. His brow furrowed slightly as he cast an indifferent glance in my direction. I could clearly feel it—the tender affection that once filled his eyes when he looked at me was completely gone. In its place was nothing but cold judgment and utter impatience. "Elena, lower your voice. Where are your manners?" Julian’s voice was low, yet dripping with authority. "Nora is going to be my wife. She will be moving into the primary suite. The two of you will be living together for a very long time, so you’d better learn to show her some respect." "Your wife? Ha... do you even hear yourself right now?" It sounded like the most absurd joke I had ever heard, and a bitter laugh tore out of my throat. Without thinking, I grabbed the teacup off the table and hurled it violently onto the floor. With a sharp *crash*, porcelain shattered and shards flew across the marble. Tea splattered across the cuffs of Julian’s tailored trousers. The noise sent Nora shrinking into his chest with a terrified gasp. "Julian... did I make Elena upset? If it’s really inconvenient, maybe I should just leave..." Nora’s eyes instantly welled with tears. Her voice was timid and fragile, like a frightened deer. "Don't be afraid." Julian wrapped his arm around Nora’s shoulders, giving her an affectionate, reassuring pat. Then, he looked up, his deep, hardened eyes glaring at me with open fury. "Haven't you thrown enough of a tantrum? Elena, look at yourself. Does this look anything like how a future heir to the Vance family should carry herself?" "How I carry myself?! You bring a random stranger home, step all over me, and announce she’s your wife, and you have the nerve to lecture me about poise?!" My chest heaved violently as I fired back. Fifteen years of secret longing, fifteen years of looking up to him—shattered into dust by a single sentence from his mouth. "Julian, I will not let her live in this house! What right do you have—" "I have every right because I am your guardian! Because this house belongs to me!" Julian shot to his feet, his towering frame instantly casting a heavy shadow over me. He looked down at me, the disgust in his eyes unmistakable. "Who do you think you are? What position do you hold to pry into my personal life? Elena, you’ve crossed the line!" Hearing those words, I froze. It felt as if a sledgehammer had slammed straight into my chest. Seeing how pale my face had turned, Julian drove the final nail into the coffin without mercy: "The way you’re losing your mind right now honestly sickens me. We can only ever be family. I am practically your uncle. If you can’t even show basic respect, then I truly regret having the heart to take you in from that foster home all those years ago!" "Regret..." I muttered the word numbly under my breath. My mind went completely blank, and every sound in the room seemed to drain away in an instant. I stared at the chillingly cold man before me. My vision blurred, and my memories abruptly dragged me back fifteen years into the past. Eleven-year-old me had stood in front of the rusted, broken iron gates of the orphanage, bundled in a faded, worn-out winter coat. The blizzard that day had been vicious, freezing me to the bone. Then, a sleek black Bentley pulled up along the curb. Julian stepped out, wearing a long black overcoat and holding an umbrella as he walked through the swirling snow toward me. His expression had been aloof, yet to me, he looked like a miracle sent from above. The orphanage director held my hand, saying earnestly, "Elena, Mr. Vance will be your guardian from now on. Make sure you behave." I kept my head down, clutching the hem of my coat, and timidly whispered, "Mr. Vance." Those had been the darkest days of my life, but Julian had simply acknowledged me with a quiet hum, reaching down to take the heavy, battered backpack from my small hands. Inside the car, the heater blasted warm air. Julian handed me a steaming cup of hot chocolate. Watching my face flush red from the cold, his voice, though flat and steady, spoke the most reassuring words I had ever heard in my life: "Don't worry, Elena. As long as I'm around, no one will ever hurt you again." Holding that warm cup, I had quietly stolen glances at his handsome profile. Outside the window, a blizzard raged, yet the car felt as warm as spring. For the first time in my life, I realized that a New York winter could actually feel warm. From that moment on, Julian became my entire universe. I studied tirelessly, doing everything in my power to excel. I choked down every ounce of childish rebellion just to be worthy of carrying the Vance name, just to be closer to him. When I went to college, I realized I had fallen in love with him. I guarded that unspoken secret with extreme care, convincing myself that if I was obedient enough, if I just stayed quietly by his side, he would eventually see me. Yet now, he told me I sickened him. He said he regretted ever having the kindness to adopt me... I bit down hard on my lower lip until the metallic taste of blood flooded my mouth, using the pain to force myself to remain standing. Watching how protectively Julian held Nora, a sudden wave of dark irony washed over me. Fifteen years of devotion meant nothing against his blind preference for someone else. He didn’t believe in me anymore, and he didn’t want me around anymore. "Fine." My voice dropped to a barely audible whisper, fragile enough to scatter with the wind. "I understand, Mr. Vance." That formal title, "Mr. Vance," made Julian’s brow furrow sharply. But he said nothing, watching with an icy glare as I turned around. Step by heavy step, I walked up to my second-floor bedroom. The moment the door clicked shut behind me, all the strength drained from my body, and I slid down the wood paneling onto the floor. I didn't cry. I just sat alone on the cold hardwood, letting the storm inside me slowly go numb. A full half-hour later, I finally pulled out my phone. With trembling fingers, I dialed an overseas number.Elena's POV The phone rang three times before an answer came through. A man’s steady, deep voice spoke: "Elena, have you made up your mind?" I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. When I opened them again, every trace of vulnerability had been replaced by pure resolve. "Mr. Hayes," I said, my voice shockingly calm. "The racing engineer position abroad—don't look for a replacement. I'll take it." "That's wonderful! Having you on board is an absolute honor for the team. When can you leave?" "As soon as possible." Hanging up, I stared out at the pitch-black night beyond the windowpane. My heart beat steadily against my ribs, yet it no longer felt any of the warmth Julian had once provided. I knew it was time to wake up. I didn't turn on the main overhead light, leaving only the dim amber glow of a floor lamp casting a narrow halo in the room. Dragging a massive black suitcase from beneath the bed, I opened my wardrobe with an expressionless face. I didn't touch any of the lavish designer dresses Julian had bought for me over the years; I only picked out a few pairs of simple coveralls and casual clothes, tossing them cleanly into the case. The door handle gave a soft click, and someone strolled in without bothering to knock. I didn't stop packing. In this house, Julian had been the only one who could enter my room without knocking. But now, there was someone else. Wearing a pair of sleek leather slippers, Nora strolled inside and leaned languidly against the doorframe. Watching the suitcase on the floor, the corners of her mouth curled into a mocking sneer. "What's this? You're actually leaving? Here I thought you planned on being a leech on the Vance family for the rest of your life." I didn't even lift my lashes, continuing to pack my laptop and several heavy, original-print fluid mechanics textbooks into my backpack. Annoyed at being ignored, a flash of irritation crossed Nora’s eyes. She took two steps closer, her voice laced with blatant venom: "Elena, you didn't actually think Julian raised you for ten years out of some special affection, did you? Have you been living out some Cinderella fantasy in your head this whole time?" My hands paused for a fraction of a second. Finally, I straightened my back and looked at Nora with eyes like ice. Satisfied with my reaction, Nora covered her mouth and giggled. Her face, which looked so much like mine, brimmed with smug satisfaction. "Do you want to know why Julian went to that specific foster home to bring you back all those years ago?" She paused intentionally, leaning forward, her voice dropping into a cruel whisper: "Because when he was young, he was deeply in love with my older sister. Unfortunately, my sister rejected him. Later, she died in an accident, leaving Julian completely devastated. Until one day, he saw a photograph of you. Your face looks remarkably like my sister's." Watching my pupils contract, Nora’s laughter grew even more triumphant. "He went to that home and adopted you just to raise a living, breathing doll. Wake up, Elena. From the very beginning to the bitter end, you've always just been a cheap substitute." The white button-down shirt in my hands slipped and fell onto the carpet. Staring down at it, flashes of Julian’s face crossed my mind—those rare moments when he would look at me with a dazed, hollow expression, as if he were peering straight through me to see someone else. Seeing me frozen, Nora pressed in, her words growing more vicious and provocative: "He treated you well all these years, bought you clothes, paid for your education—it was all just his way of atoning and grieving while staring at my sister's face. Now that I’m here, someone who actually shares my sister’s blood, a cheap knockoff like you naturally has to get lost. You—" "You must be really bad at math, aren't you?" I interrupted her out of nowhere, my voice dropping so cold it sounded forged in ice.Elena's POV Nora blinked, thrown off. "What do you mean?" I bent down, scooped up the shirt, and brushed off the nonexistent dust, my tone eerily calm: "You said your sister was Julian’s childhood sweetheart and that they were the same age, right? Julian is thirty-two this year. I was eleven when he brought me into this house, which means he was twenty-two at the time. So, if your sister had been alive, she would have been in her twenties when I moved in." I tossed the shirt into the suitcase, lifting my eyes to meet Nora’s, my gaze dripping with mockery. "He went to a foster home to find an eleven-year-old kid to act as a substitute for a grown woman in her twenties? Nora, if you’re going to invent lies to disgust me, at least use your brain. Do you take Julian for a predator, or do you just think he's completely insane?" Nora’s face turned instantly ashen, the corners of her carefully painted lips twitching violently. With her lie blown wide open on the spot, shame turned into outright rage. She glared at me maliciously. "You little bitch, you really think Julian will take your side?!" I had no interest in wasting another breath on her. Zipping up my backpack, I brushed past her shoulder to head for the door. The exact second we crossed paths, Nora snapped her hand out, grabbing my wrist with a iron grip. I frowned, about to shake her off, when I caught the bizarre, manic glint of pure malice in her eyes. Before I could react, Nora took my trapped hand, swung it through the air with force, and then— *Slap!* A crisp, resounding slap echoed through the room. Using my hand, Nora had struck herself violently across the face! She put so much momentum into it that she staggered sideways, tumbling directly onto the carpet. I froze, my hand still hanging stiffly in midair. Almost at the exact same moment, hurried footsteps rushed down the hallway. Radiating pure fury, Julian barged into the room. His eyes immediately caught Nora collapsed on the floor, followed by me standing there, frozen in the posture of someone who had just struck her. "Julian..." Nora cupped her rapidly swelling cheek, a faint trail of blood trickling from the corner of her lip. Tears cascaded down her face like a broken dam, her voice sounding utterly pathetic. "I just wanted to apologize to Elena... I know my moving in made her unhappy... but she—she didn't say a single word, she just hit me..." Julian’s face darkened instantly. He strode forward, his sharp glare slicing across me like daggers. "Elena, have you lost your mind?!" Julian’s roar shook the room, thick with profound disappointment and explosive rage. I didn't flinch. Slowly, I pulled my hand back, looking down at my palm. It was completely clean. There were no red marks, no stinging sensation from an impact, because I hadn't used an ounce of force. The entire scene was nothing but her own scripted performance. I lifted my head, staring directly into Julian’s eyes, my voice flat: "If I told you she grabbed my hand and slapped herself, would you believe me?" Julian had already crouched down to help Nora up. He didn't even bother lifting his eyes to look at me, offering only a cold, rigid back and a ruthless reply: "Do you honestly think I would believe that?" I stood in the center of the bedroom. I watched Julian lift Nora into his arms with delicate care. I watched Nora lean against his chest, casting a triumphant, mocking smirk back over his shoulder straight at me. My hand still hung limply at my side. Slowly, I curled my fingers together, forming a tight fist. My palm was empty. There was nothing inside. Just like these past fifteen years. I had thought I was holding onto the light, but in the end, it was nothing more than an illusion. "Right," I murmured, pulling my lips into a pale, bitter smile. "After all, she’s the one you want to protect." Julian carried Nora away, his voice echoing down the hall as he immediately called for the private family doctor. I walked over and shut the bedroom door. Leaning against the cold wood, I slid down to the floor once more. This time, I didn't even feel the ache in my chest. I just kept my head down, staring blankly at the empty hand that held nothing. That night, at one in the morning, I opened my laptop. On the electronic *Overseas Core Race Engineer Transfer Agreement* sitting in my inbox, I typed my digital signature. Send.Elena's POV Morning sunlight poured into the hallway through the estate’s grand floor-to-ceiling windows, yet it did nothing to dispel the suffocating tension in the air. I had just returned from a local specialty auto parts warehouse, still wearing my windbreaker faintly scented with motor oil. The second I stepped onto the second floor, my feet froze in place. The once spacious and pristine hallway was now cluttered in total disarray. Standing out the most was the solid walnut desk from my room—a piece of furniture that had been with me for eight years. It was a massive desk, now crudely shoved sideways across the passage. Piled atop it were my scattered fluid mechanics drafts, engine design schematics, and several broken markers. Julian had specially commissioned a master craftsman abroad to handmake it and fly it over when I was fifteen, simply because I had casually mentioned, *“I really want a huge desk to draw blueprints on.”* And now, it was discarded outside my room like a pile of useless junk. Dressed in a silk robe, Nora stood at the end of the hall like a lady of the manor, directing two housekeepers: "Clear out everything in this room. The wallpaper needs to be changed to warm yellow. Yes, the bed goes too. I'm turning this into a nursery later. Hurry it up, Julian hates clutter." The maids looked uncomfortable. When they saw me coming up, they immediately froze. "Miss Shaw..." My eyes shifted from the desk to the blueprints scattered across the floor, covered in dirty footprints, and finally locked onto Nora’s face. I didn't yell. I simply set down my toolbox, walking step by step toward the decorative console table Nora had carefully arranged in the hallway. A valuable antique porcelain vase sat there, holding fresh white roses that Nora had flown in just that morning. With an expressionless face, I reached out and took hold of the vase’s neck. "Elena! What do you think you're doing?! Julian just won that at an auction for me!" Nora’s face shifted instantly. Before her words faded, I swept my arm. *Crash!* The priceless antique vase smashed violently against the hard marble floor, shattering into countless pieces. Water mingled with crushed petals and sharp porcelain, splattering across the floorboards. A jagged shard even nicked Nora’s ankle. "Ah!" Nora shrieked, stumbling backward in panic. "Touch my things one more time, and next time, it won't just be a vase that breaks." My voice wasn't loud, but it carried a terrifying edge of cold resolve that left Nora completely pale. Once she caught her breath, Nora immediately pulled out her phone, dialing Julian’s number with a tearful, trembling voice. Julian returned quickly. Twenty minutes later, when he pushed open the glass double doors to the second-floor hallway, I was crouching beside the desk, my back to him, picking up the scattered, trampled blueprints one by one. My movements were mechanical, my slender frame looking fragile enough to snap in a strong gust of wind. Julian frowned, taking in the disaster zone before him. The shattered vase, Nora trembling in the corner, and the stubborn figure kneeling on the floor. "Elena, haven't you had enough?!" Julian strode over, standing right behind me, his voice strained with barely suppressed fury. My fingers paused. My fingertips were holding a half-finished intake cross-section diagram. "I let it slide when you laid hands on her last time, and now you’re smashing things? Have I spoiled you so much over the years that you've forgotten every shred of decency?!" Julian looked down at me, his lecture blistering and severe. "Nora is pregnant! Do you have any idea how much your tantrums could endanger her?!" My entire body locked up. The color drained from my knuckles as I gripped the paper, turning them a ghostly white. Slowly, I turned my head, lifting my face to look at Julian. "She's... pregnant?" My voice was raspy, like coarse sandpaper, my eyes hollow with shock and total emptiness. Julian glared down at me, his brow furrowed in cold irritation. "You don't need to know the details. Just keep your hands off her things from now on. This is my final warning: this house doesn't belong to you alone. If you can't tolerate her being here, pack your things and find somewhere else to live." I parted my lips, but my throat felt as if it were stuffed with broken glass, too raw to produce a sound. I looked at Julian’s familiar, hardened features. This was the man who had once shielded me behind his back, telling the entire world that *“no one touches Elena.”* Now, for the sake of another woman’s "child," he was pointing at my face and telling me to get out. Slowly, I pulled my gaze away, lowering my head. "Okay," I whispered softly. Then, I went back to gathering the papers off the floor. One sheet, two sheets. My movements were steady, without the slightest tremble. Watching my tranquil profile, Julian’s hands clenched into fists. With a cold scoff, he turned toward Nora, gently helping her downstairs. The moment Julian descended the steps, I gathered the final blueprint. I stood up, and glancing down casually, I caught Nora standing at the landing of the staircase. She hadn't followed Julian down. She had paused there, looking back up at me with an icy smirk. The helpless, pitiful act had vanished entirely, replaced by pure malice. Meeting my gaze, she deliberately placed her hand over her completely flat stomach. Then, exaggerating her lips, she silently mouthed two words: *"It's fake."* Standing amidst the wreckage of the hallway, I watched Nora turn and walk away. I didn't cry. When a person realizes that anger and grief are a complete waste of time, tears lose all meaning. I stacked the blueprints neatly, brushed away the dust, and set them back in my room. Then, I pulled out my phone, opened my flight app, and changed my ticket—originally scheduled for next week—to depart in three days.Elena's POV At three in the afternoon, I was in my room finishing the last of my packing. I didn't own much. Aside from a few sets of clothes, the most valuable thing I had was a gray, moisture-proof storage box. It didn't hold diamonds or designer bags. Inside were all the hand-drawn blueprints and optimization designs for racing engines I had created over the past ten years. Ever since I decided to become a mechanical engineer at sixteen, I had poured every waking second into this work. In the bottom right corner of every single blueprint, a tiny five-pointed star was sketched. Because Julian had once told me that stars represent good luck. *Thud.* I had left the bedroom door slightly ajar while I went into the bathroom to wash my hands, when I suddenly heard a noise outside. I walked out, and my pupils violently contracted. Nora was standing right over my storage box, holding a tilted French press in her hand. Scalding black coffee was pouring steadily and deliberately from the spout, soaking straight into the half-opened box. The dark brown liquid instantly drenched the top few dozen sheets. Under the heat, the black carbon ink bled and blurred rapidly, turning into grotesque, messy stains. Those were my aerodynamic layout designs, revised over a hundred times. "What are you doing?!" Screaming like a madwoman, I rushed forward and shoved Nora aside. Nora took the momentum and tumbled backward, crashing onto the floor. The French press fell from her grip, shattering against the carpet and spilling coffee everywhere. I dropped to my knees, my hands trembling violently as I tried to salvage the blueprints. It was too late. The specialized paper absorbed liquid rapidly; more than half the sheets were already stuck together. Forcing them apart would only tear them to shreds. Those tiny stars in the corners, meant to bring good luck, were now completely submerged and blackened by murky coffee. "What happened here?!" Julian, who had been working in the study downstairs, rushed up at the commotion. Seeing the spilled coffee and Nora on the floor, he strode in furiously. "Julian..." Nora clutched her stomach, her face pale, though a subtle glint flashed in her eyes. "I just wanted to see how Elena was doing with her packing and bring her some coffee. But... but my stomach suddenly cramped up, my hands slipped, and it spilled... I didn't mean to..." She looked up at Julian, looking utterly defenseless. "Elena pushed me... I'm so scared something happened to the baby..." Hearing that, Julian’s expression shifted drastically. He bent down instantly to check on Nora. Only after making sure she wasn't harmed did he turn his glare toward me, still kneeling beside the box. He cast an irritated glance at the soaked, ruined papers in the bin, his scowl deepening. "Elena, there’s a limit to how unreasonable you can be! Nora brought you coffee out of the kindness of her heart. Not only are you ungrateful, but you shove a pregnant woman?! If anything happens to that baby, how do you plan to make up for it?!" I didn't answer him. Trembling, I gently cradled a soaked blueprint—the very first complete design I had ever drawn when I was seventeen. It had turned into a clump of wet sludge. Slowly, I stood up, holding the heavy, dripping box against my chest. My eyes were terrifyingly hollow as I stared directly at Julian. "Julian, do you have any idea..." My voice was barely a whisper, yet it carried an agonizing, suffocating tremor. "How many years I spent drawing these?" "They're just scrap paper!" Julian snapped impatiently, raising his voice. "It's already ruined. Throwing a fit won't fix it! Do you have backups on your computer? If you don't, then redraw them! You're an adult now, stop acting like a spoiled child over every little inconvenience! Nora is pregnant and weak, yet she's still trying to look out for you. Can't you just behave for once?!" *Scrap paper. Redraw them.* His words were like razor-sharp blades, plunging ruthlessly into my chest and twisting until nothing was left but raw flesh. Ten years of hard work, countless sleepless nights—to Julian, it was all just a pile of dispensable scrap paper. He didn't even care to ask if it was important. All that mattered to him was whether Nora’s nonexistent baby was startled. Looking at the man in front of me, he felt like a total stranger. So unfamiliar that I didn't even know what I had been holding onto all these years. Deep within my soul, something snapped with a sharp *crack*, crumbling entirely. "Alright." I spoke suddenly, cutting off whatever lecture Julian was about to continue. Julian paused, caught off guard. "I'll redraw them." Holding the box, I took a step back, putting distance between us. My face was devoid of expression. No rage, no sorrow, only dead, tranquil silence. Looking at Julian, the faintest trace of a cold smile touched my lips. "Mr. Vance is right. I was being immature. I'm sorry for staining the carpet. Please leave now. I need to finish packing." Julian looked like he wanted to say something more, but Nora tugged gently at his sleeve. "Julian, my stomach still feels a little tight..." Julian pressed his lips together, ultimately wrapping an arm around Nora and turning away. *Click.* The door shut. Holding the box, I walked over to the corner of the room. I didn't try to wipe the coffee away, nor did I try to separate the pages. I simply set the box down quietly, pulled out my phone, and checked my booking details one more time. Departure: the day after tomorrow.Elena's POV The day before my departure happened to be Julian’s thirty-second birthday. The celebration was held at a private Vance club, attended by nearly every high-society figure in the city. I wore a simple black dress, sitting quietly in the shadows of the corner. My fingers gripped a small, black velvet box. Inside lay a miniature carbon-fiber engine model. Every single carbon-fiber plate had been cut and polished by my own hands; every tiny gear had been crafted and hand-assembled to replicate an actual F1 racing engine to scale. I had spent two weeks working on it, nicking and slicing my fingers countless times during the sanding process. It was the birthday gift I had prepared for him—and my final farewell. As the party reached its peak, the gift-giving began. Dressed in a striking red couture gown, Nora stood beneath the crystal chandelier, clutching Julian’s arm. Smiling brightly, she presented an exquisite gift box. Opening it revealed a pair of ice-blue, top-tier diamond cufflinks. "Julian, happy birthday. I flew all the way to Switzerland to bid on these for you." Nora’s voice was sweet and cloying, prompting rounds of polite applause and flattery from the surrounding guests. Julian smiled faintly, allowing Nora to hold the cufflinks against his French cuffs. "What about Elena?" Nora suddenly turned, her eyes locking onto me in the dark corner with a calculated, malicious smile. "Today is Julian’s birthday. As the beloved ward raised by the Vance family for fifteen years, you didn't come empty-handed, did you?" Every eye in the room shifted toward me. I didn't shrink away. Standing up with the velvet box in hand, I cut through the crowd and stopped in front of Julian. "Mr. Vance, happy birthday." Julian looked down at me, his gaze softening for a fleeting second. Just as he reached out to take it, Nora intercepted, her fingers darting forward. "Oh, what's this? Let me help Julian open it and see!" My brow furrowed. Instinctively, I tried to pull back, but Nora’s fingertips had already hooked around the edge of the box. The next second, Nora let out a dramatic gasp, intentionally relaxing her grip. *Smash!* The black velvet box hit the marble floor hard, popping open. The intricate, handcrafted carbon-fiber engine model instantly shattered, scattering tiny gears and splintered carbon pieces everywhere. The banquet hall fell dead silent. "Oh no! I'm so, so sorry! Elena, the box was so slippery, I couldn't hold onto it!" Nora covered her mouth in faux horror, though her eyes brimmed with smug satisfaction. I froze. Staring at the broken pieces on the floor felt like watching my own heart being ground to dust beneath someone’s shoe. Julian glanced down at the pile of unrecognizable black debris, his brow furrowing slightly. Clearly, he had no idea what it had been. "It's fine," he said, looking up. His tone was cold, carrying a hint of irritation toward me for causing such an awkward scene. "It was just a handmade model. I'll have the staff sweep it up later." *Just a model.* Slowly, I crouched down, reaching out to pick up the sharp carbon-fiber shards. "Elena, don't stay down there too long, the floor is cold. Just let the staff clean it up," Nora chimed in from above, her voice dripping with artificial concern. Julian stepped forward, grabbing my arm firmly to pull me to my feet. "Get up. Let someone else handle this. Why are you bothering with it?" His grip was rough. Caught off guard, I was yanked upward while still clutching a jagged piece of carbon fiber. "Ah!" The razor-sharp edge sliced deep into my palm, and bright red blood welled up instantly. Julian froze, his eyes dropping to my bleeding hand. "You..." He reached out to inspect my palm, but right at that moment, Nora leaned heavily into his chest. "Julian, I've been standing for so long... my stomach hurts a little." Julian’s outstretched hand paused in midair. Ultimately, he pulled it back, turning to wrap his arm around Nora’s waist instead. I let my bleeding hand fall to my side, allowing the crimson drops to splatter against the pristine white marble, one by one. I didn't cry out in pain, nor did I look at Julian. I simply watched him escort Nora back toward the center of the hall to receive congratulations from the crowd. It looked so warm, so lively. But none of it had anything to do with me anymore. That night, after the banquet ended, the estate sank back into a dead silence. I sat in my dark room. My suitcase was already packed, resting quietly by the door. An old tin box sat on the floor before me. I used a tissue to haphazardly wipe the blood from my hand, then placed the collected engine fragments into the box, piece by piece. Burying fifteen years of unspoken love along with them. Finally, I tore off a sticky note, picked up a pen, and under the dim moonlight filtering through the window, wrote my final words in this house: *Mr. Vance, thank you for taking me in for fifteen years. I'm leaving. Don't look for me.* I pressed the note over the broken pieces, shut the tin lid, and slid the box into the deepest, darkest corner beneath the bed. The night breeze stirred the curtains. The early summer in New York had finally come to an end.