Matthew dragged his exhausted body back to his room and copsed onto the bed, not even bothering to take off his clothes or shoes.


    In a hazy daze, he dreamed of his time with Yvonne.


    He dreamed of the days after the Gonzalez family went bankrupt, when life was a constant struggle. But Yvonne had been there, by his side, never leaving, always supporting and encouraging him.


    He remembered the day he signed their first major contract. They had held each other tightly,ughing and crying at the same time.


    It was the dead of winter, so cold that the air felt like ice, but their hearts were on fire.


    Later, delicate snowkes began to fall, dusting their hair and shoulders. She had looked up at him, her face radiant, and smiled. "They say if you walk in the snow with someone, your hair turns white together."


    Back then, he had genuinely wanted to grow old with her.


    So why... why had everything changed?


    Suddenly, the dream shifted, morphing into the nightmare of Yvonne''s kidnapping.


    She was being dragged away by her captors, her cries tearing through the air. "Matthew! Matthew, help me! Save me!"


    "Yvonne, don''t be afraid! I''ming! I''ming to save you!"


    In the dream, unlike in reality, he didn''t stand by and watch. He ran, desperately sprinting toward her, but he was toote. He could only watch in horror as they shoved her into a car and sped away.


    "Yvonne! YVONNE!" Matthew screamed, jolting awake from the nightmare.


    He sat bolt upright in bed, drenched in sweat, gasping for breath.


    "Matthew, are you awake? Dinner''s ready." A soft knock on the door was followed by his mother''s voice.


    "I''ll be right there,” he called out, wiping the sweat from his forehead before slowly getting out of bed.


    The household staff had all been let go, and therge vi felt empty and hollow on the dining table was a simple meat of four dishes and a soup, all prepared by Mrs. Gonzalez.


    The family of three sat around the table, eating in silence.


    As Matthew reached for a dish, his right wrist was exposed. It was bare.


    "Matthew, where''s your watch?" Mrs. Gonzalez asked, puzzled.


    met


    With thepany''s finances in ruins, they had sold almost everything of value. Even the vi they were living in was likely to be auctioned off soon. The only luxury item they had left was the watch on Matthew''s wrist. It had been a gift from his father for his eighteenth birthday. Even when the family had hit rock bottom after the first bankruptcy, Matthew had refused to sell it.


    “I sold it,” he said, his gaze falling on his empty wrist. His voice was t. "Yvonne''s birthday is next week. I used the money to buy her a gift."


    "You have money for Yvonne''s gift but not for my handbag? You y favorites, brother," Verna muttered under her breath. A sharp re from her mother silenced her.


    "Yvonne and Queena share a birthday," Mrs. Gonzalez said, her voice devoid of emotion. "What did you get for Queena?"


    Matthew''s grip on his fork tightened. "We broke up," he said, his voice heavy.


    Mrs. Gonzalez didn''t say anything, but a small, derisive scoff escaped her lips, making Matthew feel a wave of shame wash over him.


    For the weekend birthday party, the Spencer estate was once again filled with guests.


    Yvonne and Queena were both


    turning neen. While not yet on et


    legal age to marry in their elite


    time


    social circle tonces.


    to start arranging strategic