"Don't you know that once a man becomes too old, romance loses its charm?" she said in a deadly calm voice. "I don't have any desire to be close to you anymore, so stop trying to kiss me and stop trying to get close to me."
As she spoke, she took a deliberate step backward, increasing the distance between them.
"It's over."
Cassian's expression immediately darkened.
A flicker of frustration flashed across his face.
"Stop making me feel bad about my age," he muttered, his brows furrowing.
Refusing to accept her rejection, he reached out and gently cupped her face, trying to turn her toward him once again.
He tried to kiss her again, lowering his head stubbornly as though refusing to accept her rejection, but before his lips could touch hers, Juliet turned her face away again without hesitation.
Cassian froze.
For a brief second, neither of them moved.
Then his breathing gradually grew heavier. His chest rose and fell unevenly as he stared at her profile, his dark eyes fixed on her lips. Anger, frustration, hurt, and desperation churned violently inside him, making his gaze increasingly turbulent.
Still unwilling to give up, he reached for her chin and leaned in once more.
But Juliet reacted immediately.
Without even looking at him, she raised her hand and firmly shoved his face away.
The force of it made Cassian's head turn slightly to the side.
Juliet didn't spare him a single glance.
As though he no longer existed, she simply walked past him and headed toward the bed.
Her movements were cold, detached, and utterly indifferent. She lifted the quilt and climbed beneath it, pushing aside the countless gift boxes scattered across the mattress with little care. Several expensive boxes toppled off the bed and crashed onto the floor one after another. Ribbons, wrapping paper, and luxurybags spilled across the marble floor, creating a mess throughout the room.
Juliet didn't care in the slightest.
She didn't even look at the gifts.
Nor did she look at him.
Pulling the blanket over herself, she lay down and closed her eyes as though she were alone in the room.
"You don't have to pretend to be generous," she said coldly, her voice devoid of even a trace of warmth. "Now leave me alone. I know you don't want to be around a cheap woman who sleeps around. You might catch a disease if you keep touching me."
The moment the words left her mouth, a deafening crash shattered the silence.
Consumed by rage, Cassian grabbed the heavy metal candle holder from the bedside table and hurled it across the room with all his strength.
It slammed violently against the marble floor.
The sharp sound echoed throughout the entire house.
Candles rolled in every direction, scattering across the floor as the flames that had been softly illuminating the room flickered wildly before dying out one by one, plunging the room into near darkness.
Cassian stood there breathing heavily, his chest heaving violently.
He paid no attention to the sharp edge of the metal that had sliced deeply across his palm during the outburst.
