[Bank Transfer Received.]
And a second later, Jonah's text followed, [When we get married, just rent a dress from the shop. No need to waste money.]
I stared at the message. Six years together and for the first time, I realized—I never truly knew Jonah.
My gaze flicked to the location tracker in our couple's app. He was still at the City Hall.
I thought it would hurt. But I felt nothing at all.
With a quiet exhale, I disabled our shared location.
Just then, the arrival of Jonah's assistant, Zane, broke the silence. Two bodyguards trailed behind him.
Zane, who had once greeted me with warmth and respect, now looked at me with undisguised contempt. His tone remained polite, but it carried a distant coldness.
"Miss Arabelle, as long as you refrain from causing any problems, we won't interfere with where you go."
A warning.
I couldn't be bothered with fair-weather lackeys. Without another word, I drove straight to my office and resigned from my job.
But when I finally returned home, something else was waiting for me.
At the parking garage, my car slowed as the automatic gate failed to lift. I rolled down my window. The security guard checked the system, his brows furrowing.