This man was not only skilled; he was a master of his craft. His reflexes were razor-sharp, cat-quick, and honed. It was obvious he had been trained from the cradle, just like her. Reflexes like his weren't just taught in a classroom or dojo; they were forged in the fire of life-or-death confrontations—battles that tested one's mettle and made the survivor that much more dangerous. He was the kind of man who didn't just fight to the end; he would drag you down into the abyss with him. That kind of cruelty ran deep, like an ineradicable stain. You could see it in his eyes: he took risks, even when the odds were astronomical. The best way to deal with a man like that? Simple: avoid lighting the fuse. There's no point in asking for more trouble than you can handle.

As these thoughts flitted through her head, Allison's phone buzzed like a swarm of angry bees. At first, she ignored it, but it wouldn't stop. Finally, she swiped the screen, revealing a flood of missed calls. It was already half past eight. She was meeting Colton for their divorce.

Looking at herself, Allison let out a long, tired sigh. Her clothes were a mess: buttons were missing, the fabric torn, as if she'd been caught in a hurricane. If she went out like this, people would think she'd just crawled out of a street fight. She rummaged through her closet and quickly put on a clean shirt. As she dressed, she sent a quick text to her friend: "I'm fine, don't worry. I'll tell you later."

Before leaving, Allison paused at the bedside, her eyes narrowing as she spotted the nightstand. She grabbed a piece of paper and some money, placing it under the gun. She wrote, "Your performance was appalling. Consider this your tip after a deduction."

It wasn't just the torn clothes; he'd left her to pick up the pieces of a night he'd rather forget. Generous? Perhaps. But that didn't mean she had to be a fool.

As she headed for the door, Allison straightened her shirt and smoothed her hair, dialing the cruise manager's number with one hand. "Make sure every trace of my presence is erased. Clear the surveillance, too." "Understood, ma'am. We'll take care of it," came the respectful reply.

He sped to the courthouse, but arrived half an hour late. Curiously, the sadness I expected to feel that day never came. After three long years of false hope, the well seemed to have run dry. All that remained was a silent emptiness, a void where feelings once resided.

Colton was outside, leaning against his car like a statue, checking his watch every few seconds. Melany had her arm around him, whispering in his ear, her eyes shining with adoration. Melany said, "Colton, don't go against your grandfather's wishes."

As soon as Colton saw Allison, his expression hardened, his brow furrowing in anger. "If you're thinking of dragging your feet or backing out at the last minute, don't bother. I've already decided to marry Melany. Save yourself the trouble of playing games." His voice was thick with impatience, as if he could already see through what he perceived as her latest ploy. "I already told you yesterday," she added coldly, "not even tears will change my decision."

Allison stepped out of the car just in time to hear his words. Her stomach churned—not just from hunger, but from nausea. She'd always known Colton to be cold, but this was something else entirely. She stared into his eyes. "I have no regrets. Neither then nor now."

The truth was, Allison had known for years that the man before her wasn't the same man who'd once promised her the world. But she'd clung to the hope—however foolish—that maybe, just maybe, he would remember the past, that the boy he once was would re-emerge. But now, with the curtain about to fall, she saw it. Colton wasn't just different; he was a stranger, someone she barely recognized, someone she no longer liked.

With a calmness that surprised even her, she said, "Instead of wasting time accusing me of playing games, how about we just get this over with?"

Allison didn't wait for a response. She pulled out her papers, including the divorce papers, and headed for the courthouse doors, her expression unreadable.

"I have no intention of dragging this out any further, either," Colton replied coldly.