Chapter 868: Chapter 868



Michael responded earnestly, “You were intoxicated last night and showed up at my doorstep.”

“Really?” Dulce rubbed her temple, puzzled. “I guess I’m still coming to terms with things. But why did you let me in?”

Caught off guard by her question, Michael cleared his throat and retorted, “What do you suppose?”

After a pause, Dulce’s expression hardened. “Michael, I’ve decided it’s time to move on. If you don’t love me, stop doing things that might make me fall for you again. I understand you’re trying to be kind, but it leads me to read too much into your actions.”

A twinge of jealousy hit Dulce as she remembered how often Lacey used to end up drunk. People with heart issues shouldn’t drink, yet Lacey might have used it as an excuse to seek Michael out. Lacey had adored Michael deeply. How could she ever compete with Lacey?

Perhaps Michael had taken her in last night because she reminded him of Lacey in her drunken state. She felt like a mere stand-in once more.

While Dulce was engulfed in her thoughts, Michael sat down beside her on the bed. “Don’t you recall anything from last night at all?”

Fragmented memories flooded Dulce’s mind as she clutched her throbbing head, the hangover’s grip tight upon her. Abruptly, a phrase she didn’t recall uttering flashed through her thoughts: “I’ll pay you for three days. What’s your price?”

She hadn’t expected herself to utter such daring words.

She looked at Michael with a blank expression, half-recalling the presence of a male escort resembling him the day before. She had dismissed it as a dream.

Noticing her pallor, Michael tenderly caressed her cheek and whispered, “Do any memories come back to you?”

His touch sent a shiver through Dulce, raising goosebumps on her skin. She instinctively recoiled, her mood turning somber.

“I’m sorry, I had too much to drink, I need to go now.”

Dulce flung off the blanket and dashed toward the door, as if racing toward a finish line.

Michael sprang up to intercept her, calling out, “Dulce.”

She halted but lacked the courage to face him.

“What are you going to tell me? That you can’t forget Lacey, yet you don’t want me to go either?”

Michael paused, his resolve faltering, then bowed his head, his eyes brimming with remorse.

“Dulce, we don’t have a way forward.”

Dulce knew that unless he could move on from Lacey, he was incapable of loving anyone else, including her.

Resolute, she turned her back to him. “If you truly care about me, you’ll hold back. I promise to keep my distance.”

Continuing this charade would only lead to more pain for both of them. After realizing this wasn’t what she truly wanted, Dulce knew it was time to let go.

As she exited the estate, a car pulled up nearby, and the person stepping out spotted Dulce, tears streaming down her face.

“Dulce?”

Hearing her name, Dulce turned to see Fiona, draped in a shawl, her expression weary and worn.

Though Fiona had not yet healed from the loss of her son, she had remained resolute in her quest to see Crowell and Cara face justice. Dulce hesitated, unsure of how to respond, but quickly composed herself and greeted Fiona with polite restraint.

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