Chapter 4@@@

Ethan Carter didn't return until the next day.

When he came back, he said he wanted to take me to a "special place."

When the car stopped in front of the brightly lit winery, I paused.

This private winery in the suburbs was discreetly luxurious, a favorite retreat for many elites.

He thoughtfully opened the car door for me, smiling: "I remember you always liked quiet environments. This place should suit you."

I smiled and replied softly: "Thank you."

The hall was filled with the scent of wine and oak barrels. A server respectfully approached: "Welcome back, Mr. Carter."

"Welcome back."

My heart tightened slightly, but my expression remained gentle.

Entering a private room on the second floor, the window overlooked the vineyard at night, candlelight creating an utterly romantic atmosphere.

Ethan personally pulled out my chair, saying softly: "Tonight it's just us."

I nodded with a smile, my hand quietly gripping the napkin.

When ordering, the server eagerly recommended a wine: "This is the one you and the young lady loved most on your last visit."

"The young lady."

I lowered my head, concealing the coldness in my eyes.

Ethan's expression froze for just a moment before he smiled smoothly: "Ah yes, that was for wine selection. I brought a colleague."

I looked up, my smile gentle: "Is that so? Seems you come here often."

A flash of panic crossed his eyes, but he quickly recovered, grasping my hand: "No matter how many times I've been here, I only want to be here with you."

In the candlelight, his expression was tender, seemingly sincere.

However, when the server brought the wine, I saw a handwritten card tied to the bottle label.

The scrawl was in French:

"À Mila, toujours. (To Mila, forever.)"

My heart clenched, but I smiled and raised my glass: "Thank you, Ethan. This place is beautiful."

He relaxed and clinked glasses with me, his eyes still gentle.

Throughout dinner, he talked about wedding preparations as if nothing had happened.

And I simply listened quietly, occasionally nodding, like a fiancée completely immersed in happiness.

Until we left the winery. While he went to get the car, I quickly walked to the bar and quietly asked the server: "Could I see that card again?"

The server hesitated, then retrieved another copy from the archives and handed it to me.

It clearly read: "Ethan & Mila—99th visit."

My fingertips were ice-cold, but my lips curved into a faint smile: "Thank you."

I quickly photographed it and saved it to my phone.

When Ethan approached, I'd already resumed my gently smiling appearance, taking his arm and saying softly: "Let's go home."

The headlights turned on, night spreading out.

He squeezed my hand, his eyes full of devotion: "Vivian, I want to give you the best future."

I turned my head, looking at the darkness outside, my heart ice-cold.

But I don't want a future with you anymore, Ethan.