After the meeting with Miss Shera, which went smoothly despite Damian's chaos, Elena chose to sit for a while in a small restaurant not far from the previous café. The place was quiet, the music soft, and the aroma of coffee mixed with vanilla soothed her foggy mind.

She sat in the corner, staring blankly out the window. Her hand stirred the jasmine tea without really intending to drink it. Her mind still returned to Damian's pleading face—the face she once fell in love with, now inviting only disgust and anger.

"Even if he kneels in front of the whole world," Elena thought sharply, "I won't forgive that bastard. Everything...