?Chapter 997:


    Even now, he was pretending he didn’t know.


    And that—that broke something in her. She let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding. Exhausted. Hollow.


    She had waited. She had given him time. She hadn’t pushed. And every time, he looked her in the eye and acted like she was imagining things. Like he had nothing to hide.


    Fine. No more exining. No more hoping he’de clean.


    She pulled the nket over her head, shutting him—and everything else—out.


    In the morning, she would pack her things and leave.


    There was no fight left in her, and no point in staying if it only meant feeling suffocated in silence.


    Even if going back to her own ce meant risking being hunted by Erebus, it still felt better than living like this with William.


    Outside, William stood frozen as her silence stretched on. He had lifted his hand to knock again but slowly let it fall to his side.


    He knew her. He knew what this meant. If she was shutting him out like this, there was no getting through—not unless she decided to open up first.


    Otherwise, he was just wasting his breath.


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    He stood there for what felt like forever,pletely drained, before finally turning around and heading back to his room. How did it get to this point?


    Later that night, in the VIP lounge at Mystic Night bar…


    A line of empty whiskey sses cluttered the table in front of William. He slouched back on the leather couch, his tie loose, shirt wrinkled, eyes dark and distant. His whole demeanor practically screamed Stay away.


    When Steven walked in and saw the mess, he raised an eyebrow. He slid into the seat across from William, poured himself a drink, and downed it in one go with a loud exhale.


    He had rushed over and was parched. He had thought something serious had happened to William. But from the looks of it, nothing was wrong.


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    “Let me guess,” Steven said, eyeing him, “rtionship drama with Ste?”


    Every single time William hit him up for a drink, it was because of Ste. Over time, Steven had learned that whenever William wore this expression, it definitely meant a fight with her.


    William shot him a look but said nothing. He just downed another shot and winced as it burned down his throat.


    Steven’s smirk faded. He let out a sigh. “So it is about her. What happened this time? Another fight?”


    Usually, by now, William would be unloading—ranting, questioning, trying to understand. But the fact that he was this quiet? That was a bad sign.


    Finally, William’s voice came out low and rough, barely above a whisper. “She wants to move out.”


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