?Chapter 1317:


    “Let you go?” He repeated the words, tone like ice cracking.


    That phraseing from her mouth—sent something bitter washing through his chest. Anger, yes. But also a strange, hollow ache he didn’t have a name for.


    But for once, he didn’t explode. He just looked at her—this trembling, tear-streaked version of the woman he used to know—and asked calmly, “If I let you go right now… would you run straight back to Marc?”


    His gaze didn’t leave her face. He caught every twitch, every flicker of hesitation.


    He wasn’t even sure what answer he was hoping for.


    Ste blinked, stunned into silence. The fog in her mind parted for a moment. Marc’s soft, gentle smile shed in her memory. The wedding. The ring. The promises.


    Then William’s cold, unforgiving face shoved its way in. The chaos. That night.


    Her breath hitched. Shame surged up from her chest and strangled whatever words she was about to say.


    Tears started up again, hotter now, streaking faster down her cheeks. And still, she didn’t speak.


    Just when William thought her silence was going to stretch forever, she shook her head. It was almost imperceptible. But it was a no.


    She whispered through broken breaths, “No… I won’t go back.”


    William froze, a flicker of surprise breaking through his guarded expression. “Why?” he asked, voice low. “Why not?”


    Ste curled back into herself, burying her face against her knees like a child. Her voice came muffled and small, but it hit like a punch. “Because… I’m dirty. I’m not the woman he thinks I am anymore. I’m not good enough for him.”


    To her, Marc was still the wless gentleman—the one who smiled kindly, who never raised his voice, who made her feel safe.


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    She didn’t remember the twisted pieces of truth hiding underneath that polished surface.


    William’s expression darkened. The temperature in the room seemed to drop a few degrees, and Ste shrank further into herself, as if she could sense the shift.


    He stared down at her, jaw tightening.


    She thought she was “dirty” because he had touched her?


    That this made her unworthy of Marc?


    An ugly surge of rage boiled beneath his skin. His patience snapped. In one sudden move, he stepped forward and grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. His grip was firm but not cruel—just enough to make her meet his eyes.


    “Ste,” he said, voice sharp as ss, “listen to me. You’re not dirty. And I’m not dirty either. But Marc?” His eyes burned with something far darker. “That perfect little prince in your head? That’s not who he is. That man is the dirtiest of us all. And let me remind you—he’s the one who owes you. Not me.”


    The air shifted. His words didn’t feel like insults—they felt like truth. Truth he’d been holding in far too long.


    He leaned closer, close enough that she couldn’t look away. “Don’tpare me to him,” William said, voiceced with venom. “He doesn’t evene close.”


    Ste stared, stunned. Something in her heart wavered. The alcohol haze disappeared from her eyes, reced by a keen consciousness.


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