M Suthend hadn''t even turned around when her phone was snatched away.


    Out on the balcony, Lysander Montgomery stood behind her chair, casually scrolling through her phone until the call was disconnected.


    Unperturbed, he redialed the number.


    The phone rang a few times, but no one answered, nor did they hang up. It just disconnected automatically, and each time he called, it was the same.


    "How rude," Lysander chuckled, tossing the phone aside without a second thought.


    "What do you think you''re doing?" M had risen from her chair, her eyes zing with anger as she red at the man who seemed to have no concept of personal space.


    "I''m just trying to protect you, darling. Can''t have you being misled by others," he said nonchntly, taking a step forward. M instinctively stepped back, her retreat halted only when her back nearly touched the ss window. In one swift move, Lysander wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her against his chest. The familiar scent of jasmine surrounded her as their bodies pressed together. Ignoring her struggles and protests, he buried his face in her neck, inhaling deeply, his eyes half-closed with a smirk ying on his lips.


    M shivered at the contact, her anger ring even more. Despite the pain in her injured hand, she balled it into a fist and pounded against his shoulder. But her efforts were quickly thwarted when Lysander seized her wrist, forcing her back into the chair with a firm grip, standing behind her to keep her hands immobilized.


    The morning sun was warm, casting a golden glow over the balcony. The sunlight painted the entangled shadows of the two in vivid hues, making the scene both mesmerizing and unsettling.


    Lysander, tall and imposing, stood behind the wooden chair, one hand firmly holding M''s pale wrists, while the other lifted her chin. He leaned over her, his lips brushing against hers, his eyes clouded with a drunken haze.


    "p!"


    Taking advantage of a momentarypse in his focus, M finally managed to break free, though her strength was waning. She delivered a not-so-gentle p across his face.


    Silence enveloped the balcony.


    After a moment, Lysander, unfazed, moved closer again, lifting her in his arms and depositing her onto the sofa. As her temper red, he retrieved a tube of ointment, applying it to her reddened palm from the p.


    "I told you, hitting only hurts you," he murmured.


    M trembled with anger. "If it weren''t for your shamelessness..." she began, her voice shaking.


    Lysander smiled slightly, discarding the ointment as his fingers intertwined with hers. "Where''s the ring?" he asked suddenly.


    "I threw it away," M replied coldly, trying to pull her hand free. "Let go!"


    Lysander''s grip momentarily ckened, but he shrugged it off. "Fine. I''ll get you a better one."


    "Ha," M couldn''t hold back a derisiveugh. "Lysander, you''re absurd. Wasn''t the original ring just some cheap trinket you threw together? Don''t pretend to care now. It only makes me despise you more."


    Lysander remained silent, then inquired, "And Red Hat? I didn''t see it in your luggage."


    He had searched her suitcase but found no trace of the Red Hat robot he had gifted her on their wedding night. She hadn''t taken it with her when she left the country.


    "That''s gone too," M said with the same dismissive tone.


    She had left the ring, the Red Hat robot, and the suit she had painstakingly sewn for Lysander back at their vi in Bamboo Grove. From the moment she decided to leave the country, those items became relics of a past she intended to bury.


    She never imagined Lysander would be so possessive, so extreme in his actions. It was as if he had be a stranger to her, aplete madman. For the first time, M found herself unable to understand the man standing before her.