"Julian, I... I mentioned before, they’re constantly hounding me about that debt now. I truly don’t know what to do." She frantically clutched his hand, her eyes bearing a glimmer of hope. Julian Sterling’s face brimmed with mockery as he swiftly pried her hand away. "You expect me to repay that eight hundred million for you? Yvette Jacobs, why should I pay your debts? Do you even grasp how much eight hundred million is? Most people in Serenford can’t earn that in a lifetime. And now you expect me to casually hand over such a sum to someone who’s irrelevant to me? Do you think I’m running a charity here?" Yvette Jacobs’ face turned even paler as she tightly gripped his hand. "Julian, I know I was wrong in the past, but I..." "As long as you understand, now get out. I don’t want to see any part of you." Yvette’s hand paused, tears began to fall. "I’m not leaving! If they find me, my life will be ruined! I’ll repay you slowly, Julian, just help me one last time, please?" Yvette cried out, nearly collapsing to her knees. Julian looked up, suddenly realizing he must have been blind to ever like such a woman! "Pay me back? Oh sure, should we tally up your stay in Serenford? I gave you buildings, jewelry worth tens of millions. Pay me back those first, then I might consider trusting you." His words felt like a scorching slap across her face, hitting Yvette hard. Yvette’s body turned weak; if Julian demanded those back, she’d suffer a hefty loss in the millions. Clearly, it wasn’t worth it, which made her panic further, hurriedly leaving. Julian watched her frantic figure depart, feeling irony—and he laughed. But the laughter ended with nothing but desolation. That’s the person he once treasured, only now did he truly see her true face. Those wasted years suddenly felt like a joke. Julian downed another bottle, feeling increasingly irritable. ɴᴇᴡ ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴜʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ ᴏɴ 𝕟𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕝•𝖿𝗂𝗋𝖾•𝘯𝘦𝘵 He took off his jacket; after five bottles, he was just slightly tipsy as he left. "Best Actor Sterling?" A woman’s voice rang out, surprised. Julian frowned, looking up to see her. Recently, headlines buzzed with rumors about them. But though she always hinted at intimacy, he wasn’t interested—often just using her. He suddenly realized he was getting worse. "Best Actor Sterling, are you drunk? Let me take you home." Her eyes sparkled brightly. Julian looked at her, his mind blurring. Gloria Galloway had the same sparkle when they first met, but now it’s overshadowed by a deathly dullness, hidden to him. He grumbled, displeased, entering a nearby car. The woman stood in place, clenched fists, eyes reddening. She worked hard, climbing from a small celebrity to where she was now. Why can’t he see her? She bowed her head, full of unwillingness—the Best Actor Sterling probably doesn’t love his wife, nor does his wife love him. That’s why he drinks away. She needed to seize the chance, quickly attach herself to him. Climbing the ranks if possible, he was her life’s goal! Julian’s mind was on Gloria Galloway; however, Gloria was in a coma, only waking slowly after two hours. It was the familiar doctor standing before her. She looked at the stark white ceiling, her lips twitching. The doctor shot her a look. The doctor was a middle-aged woman, aware the young girl didn’t cherish her body much, unsure what to say, just advising. "Miss Galloway, stay the night here. Start chemotherapy tomorrow, as your comas are increasing. At this rate, you may not last three months—and seeing you neglect yourself hurts my heart. My daughter also died from leukemia; we couldn’t afford surgery so she jumped to her death. I still remember it. You have money, a chance to live—why squander it?" Gloria heard the doctor speak of these matters for the first time. No wonder the doctor cared so much—she felt guilty, but sighed as she thought of something. "I’m fine, don’t worry. Maybe for me, death is an escape, I know what I’m doing." The doctor saw persuasion was futile, said little more, gave some meticulous advice, then left. Gloria stared at the ceiling, suddenly recalling a message she sent Julian. Checking, she saw no reply, only missed calls from him. She slightly smiled, sent another text. —Tonight was wild, I won’t make it home, you take care. In truth, she wished to return, to hold him and sleep—yet could do nothing now. Julian received the message upon arriving home. He wandered the streets only to inexplicably drive back here. Yet stepping out, he hadn’t got Gloria’s message soon, as he’d smashed his phone earlier, just now went and bought a new one. Sitting on the couch, he inserted the sim card. As his phone booted up, Gloria’s message instantly arrived. His heart jolted harshly, only to read her words. His risen heart suddenly plunged to the depths. Not even returning home now. He agitatedly typed three words. —Suit yourself, to me it doesn’t matter if you come home or not. Gloria saw the message, her eyes flashed, leaving it unread, quietly tucking her phone under the pillow. She needed rest, an early rise to meet Eleanor Hollis and Samantha Sullivan, never revealing anything. Eleanor was still unaware; early next day, she sent the dining address to the pair, heading over to wait. Samantha was the second to arrive, noticeably pregnant, though concealed by thick clothes. Gloria arrived last, with a polished look, no trace of paleness, her demeanor unchanged. Eleanor eased, glad her friends seemed fine. Hugo Quinn likely spoke out of wanting her more out and about. Fully assured, she took the menu, ordering their favorites. "Samantha, have you decided on the baby’s name yet? I want to be the godmother."