Chapter 2

Liam replied quickly.

He was relieved that I'd finally let go of the mysterious man I'd liked for years.

A year ago when Liam completed his revenge and called me back to his side, I'd used that as an excuse to refuse him.

To this day, Liam doesn't know that the person who made me suffer so much in love is his best friend—Nathan.

After ending the call, the next thing I needed to handle was the mark Nathan had left on me in bed.

It wasn't a formal mark, after all we'd never held a bonding ceremony.

Black market witches had ways to solve all kinds of problems, so I found one and paid her a large sum of money.

In the end, I obtained an ancient contract.

The witch told me, "Have him sign his true name here. When the ink dries, the mark's connection will be severed. But remember, he must sign willingly. Any coercion will cause the contract to backfire on you."

Holding the contract, I felt a deep pain in my chest.

Nathan. Him again.

Even my final departure couldn't avoid him.

I gripped my phone tightly and walked to the end of an empty corridor to dial that familiar number.

The phone rang for a long time. Just when I thought no one would answer, the call connected.

A strange, satisfied and lazy female voice came through: "Hello? Looking for Nathan? He's in my bed right now... worn out and asleep. Do you need me to wake him?"

Nathan, in her bed.

Those words pierced my heart like needles laced with wolfsbane, densely packed.

So I hadn't been heartbroken about leaving him just now.

It was his betrayal that brought me pain.

Yet my voice was exceptionally steady: "No need. Thank you."

Without waiting for her response, I hung up directly.

The phone screen darkened, reflecting my bloodless face.

But less than two minutes later, the phone vibrated urgently again.

I stared at Nathan's name for a few seconds before swiping to answer.

"Did you need something?"

On the phone, his voice carried a businesslike coldness.

But just last night, he'd been pressed against me, calling my name over and over.

I gripped the contract tightly, my knuckles turning white:

"Nathan, there's a document that needs your signature."

Nathan made an acknowledging sound, then seemed to remember something and said:

"Oh, and go back to the house later. Pack up all your things, she's moving in. But I have an empty apartment in the western suburbs—you can move there. After all, I promised Liam I'd take care of you."

Four years ago, he drunkenly pulled me into bed and gave me the status of "bedmate."

Four years later, he's giving me a place to live in the name of being a good friend.

His thoughtful handling of the situation seemed both laughable and utterly meaningless.

I smiled: "No need, Nathan. I can take care of myself."

Besides, once he released the mark on me, these absurd four years would all be over.