Viviane stared out the window, watching as the leaves spun in the air before drifting gently to the ground. Her coffee, once hot, had long since gone cold.
All day, Cyril hadn't spared her a single glance. Even at breakfast, when she handed him the warm milk, he had pushed it away without a word.
It didn't make sense. Just two days ago, they had been on the rooftop, celebrating with a passionate kiss. He had lovingly placed the Teardrop necklace around her neck.
So what had changed? How could he turn so cold so quickly?
No, it wasn't just coldness—it was worse. It was indifference, even disdain.
Her phone rang, breaking her thoughts.
It was Mirea.
"Viviane, I can't believe it! That bastard... he cheated on me!"
Mirea's voice was choked with emotion. Viviane furrowed her brows, her own worries mome……
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