The CEO's Regret: You made me your lie, I become your Loss-Chapter 68: Trouble never ends

The dawn didn’t just break, it bled. A pale, immaterial gold spilled over the jagged mountain peaks, catching the frost and turning the entire world into a blinding field of crushed diamonds.

Amara stood by the window for a long moment, watching the light reclaim the valley. For the first time in what felt like a lifetime, the heavy, suffocating weight of Elara’s bitterness felt like a garment she had finally stepped out of. She felt light. She felt clean.

Beside her, the bed stayed warm. Julian was still submerged in a deep, peaceful sleep, his breathing steady and slow, the sound of a man who finally believed the battle was over. Amara watched the rise and fall of his shoulders, a soft smile tugging at her lips. She didn’t want to wake him. Not yet. This morning, she wanted to offer a silent prayer to the horizon alone.

She stepped out of the villa, the air hitting her lungs like a shock of ice water. It was crisp and thin, scrubbing away the lingering scent of woodsmoke and old secrets.

The path away from the sanctuary was narrow, a winding ribbon of white that led toward the scenic overlook. Amara moved slowly, her boots making a rhythmic, deliberate crunch-crunch against the packed snow. The silence of the mountain was absolute, a heavy, holy sort of quiet that made her feel as though she were the only soul left on earth.

As she climbed higher, the trees began to thin, revealing the jagged lip of the cliff. Below, the world simply vanished into a swirling sea of white mist, a kingdom of clouds that hid the frozen valley floor. It was terrifyingly beautiful.

Amara walked toward the very edge, her heart swelling with a strange, soaring sense of gratitude. She wanted to see it all. She wanted to look over the brink and see the sheer scale of the height she had climbed.

The wind suddenly shifted, picking up speed. It whipped her hair across her face, stinging her cheeks, but she didn’t pull back. She stood at the ridge, her toes inches from the drop, and closed her eyes. She tilted her face up, letting the pale sun soak into her skin, breathing in the freedom she had fought so hard to earn.

Then, the silence broke.

Snap.

The sound of a dry branch yielding under a heavy weight echoed sharply against the stone.

Amara’s eyes flew open, but before Amara could even turn her head, two hands slammed into the center of her back with a violent, desperate force.

The air left her lungs in a sharp gasp. Her boots lost their grip on the slick rock. For one terrifying heartbeat, she clawed at the empty air, her eyes wide as she saw a dark figure standing where she had just been.

Then, there was nothing but the rush of the wind and the terrifying, silent drop into the white void below.

The world spun into a blur of grey rock and blinding white snow before Amara hit the surface of the icy mountain lake below. The impact was like slamming into a wall of iron. The freezing water surged into her mouth, stealing her breath, dragging her down into a darkness so absolute it felt like the end of everything.

Above, on the jagged ledge, Elara stood trembling. Her hands were still held out, fingers clawed, as if she could still feel the weight of Amara’s coat against her palms. She stared down at the rippling, black water where the ice had shattered. Her breath came in ragged, hyperventilating gasps, a plume of steam in the morning air.

"I... I had to," Elara whispered to the wind, her voice shrill and terrified. She didn’t wait to see if a body would surface. Panic seized her, and she turned, sprinting back toward the tree line, leaving nothing behind but the hollow echo of her own madness.

—

In the suite, the sun had climbed higher, casting a warm glow across the unmade bed. Julian stretched, his hand reaching out instinctively for Amara, but his fingers met only cold, empty sheets.

He frowned, his eyes snapping open. "Amara? I tried my best to be a gentleman last night. Thanks for making me stay in your room last night. Actually, it’s the best sleep I’ve ever had."

Julian thought Amara was in the bathroom, but silence answered him. He sat up, his heart skipping a beat. The bathroom door was open, and the lights were off. He stepped onto the plush carpet, calling her name again, his voice rising in concern. "Amara? Honey?"

He walked to the window. The view was empty. He checked the balcony, but there was nothing. A prickle of dread crawled up the back of his neck, a sharp, metallic taste of fear blooming on his tongue. He saw her coat hanging in the closet, but her boots were missing from the entryway.

Julian didn’t wait to grab a jacket. He threw open the suite door, his pulse thundering in his ears. He searched the lobby, his eyes darting from face to face, his movements becoming frantic.

"Has anyone seen my fiancée?" he demanded, his voice cracking. "She went for a walk. A woman in a white coat, dark hair..."

The concierge looked up, puzzled. "I believe I saw a woman heading toward the cliff path about twenty minutes ago, sir."

The blood drained from Julian’s face. He didn’t thank the man; he bolted for the door, his lungs burning as he sprinted toward the cliffside path. The air was deathly still, the only sound the crunch of his own panicked footsteps. When he reached the overlook, he stopped dead.

His eyes swept the ground. There, near the very edge, were two sets of footprints. One set was light and steady, ending abruptly at the brink. The other was deep, frantic, and pointed toward the safety of the trees.

Julian’s breath hitched. He stepped to the edge and looked down. Far below, the dark, churning water of the lake was partially frozen, and near the jagged rocks, a single, pale silk scarf was snagged on a branch, fluttering like a white flag of surrender.

"Amara!" he roared, the sound tearing across the valley, but the mountains only threw his own scream back at him, hollow and cold.