That single glance nearly stopped Molly’s heart.
She quickly looked away, her hands trembling as she snapped open a decorative folding fan and held it in front of her face as if fanning herself.
Inwardly, she prayed—please, don’t let him recognize her.
This was too embarrassing. Nothing could be more humiliating than seeing the pitiful, useless ex-boyfriend from ten years ago now standing far above her, completely reversing their positions and crushing her with overwhelming superiority.
What would he think if he recognized her?
The once arrogant, untouchable noble lady who had deceived him from beginning to end—and then, after the truth was exposed, abandoned him without a word.
Ten years had passed without a single meeting. And now, when they finally saw each other again, he had transformed from a useless fool into a man who could command everything with a single gesture.
Meanwhile, the ex-girlfriend who had once bullied him had fallen from grace, struggling alone in society for years, nearly losing even her dignity. She had only just gained a chance to rebuild herself and lead her family to success—only to discover that he was already standing at the very peak she was trying to reach.
If she were him, just imagining it would feel incredibly satisfying.
But the problem was—she was the ex-girlfriend who had abandoned him.
Just thinking about being looked at with pity, sympathy, or mockery by him made it hard for Molly to breathe.
Absolutely—absolutely—she couldn’t give him the chance to humiliate her!
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the brown-haired man walking in her direction. Her whole body tensed. Without hesitation, she stood up, ready to leave.
“Miss Molly, what’s wrong?” William asked, concerned. “You’re sweating a lot. Are you feeling unwell?”
“Yes, that’s right. I feel a bit stuffy—I need some air.”
Cold sweat trickled down her back. Still hiding half her face behind the fan, she didn’t wait for William’s response. She moved gracefully yet quickly toward the exit of the banquet hall.
Calm down.
There were so many people here—he might not have been looking at her at all.
And even if he had been, there was no way he would recognize her. It had been ten years.
Besides, someone in his position only needed a single glance to attract countless women. Maybe he had already forgotten someone like her entirely.
Like a silver butterfly, she slipped through the crowd toward the doors.
Her head was slightly lowered, silver hair veiling her eyes, concealing her expression.
But her pale face and tightly pressed lips betrayed her inner turmoil.
A playboy, captivated by her, deliberately stepped into her path. They nearly collided.
He was about to apologize and strike up a conversation—when the beauty he had almost knocked over steadied herself, then lifted her gaze.
Her emerald eyes were cold—icy, merciless, brimming with killing intent.
“Move.”
Molly had never been patient, and especially not now. She had no reason to be polite to a stranger.
But instead of backing off, the man grew irritated at her refusal. He grabbed her wrist, refusing to let her go.
“Let go—this is annoying—”
“Miss, there’s no need to be so tense. I just want to get to know you.”
Driven by a desire to conquer, he smiled smugly and began introducing himself.
“I’m Aaron, head of the Ferdi—”
Molly lowered her eyes, irritation plain on her face. She was about to drive her elbow into his abdomen—but hesitated. Causing a scene might draw even more attention from the one person she wanted to avoid.
Just as she wavered, a voice sounded from right behind her—both unfamiliar and familiar at the same time.
“Aaron. Long time no see.”
The brown-haired man smiled as he placed a hand on Aaron’s shoulder. But his gaze was fixed on the silver-haired woman whose wrist was being held, his eyes dark and unreadable.
“This lady doesn’t seem to be feeling well. It would be best not to trouble her.”
His tone was gentle—but carried an unmistakable authority. The hand on Aaron’s shoulder tightened with undeniable force.
“S-sorry, Boss…” Aaron broke into a cold sweat and immediately released her.
Molly’s wrist was finally free.
But she felt no relief.
Because the one standing before her—the one who had helped her—
was the very person she least wanted to see.
Being seen by him like this filled her with unbearable shame. Her chest tightened painfully, as if it might explode.
She didn’t dare meet his eyes. Still hiding behind her fan, she gave a small nod of thanks—then turned and left without hesitation.
“Molly.”
His voice came from behind her.
A faint sigh threaded through it.
“After all this time… you don’t even want to say a word to me?”
Her steps faltered.
What was there to say? So he could mock her?
She wasn’t a masochist.
“I’m sorry, sir,” she said coldly, her voice utterly devoid of emotion. “You’ve mistaken me for someone else.”
“…”
Only then did Aaron realize that the woman he had tried to flirt with was someone the Vongola Boss knew.
From just a few lines of conversation, it was obvious their relationship wasn’t ordinary.
His heart nearly leapt out of his chest, his back turning cold.
Looking at the brown-haired man’s gaze—fixed entirely on the silver-haired beauty—and his brief moment of stunned silence at her denial, Aaron felt a storm of emotions.
What kind of noble lady was she? How could she be so ungrateful?
This was the Tenth Vongola Boss!
Handsome, wealthy, powerful, kind, and self-disciplined—he had ranked number one among the Italian Mafia leaders women most wanted to marry for years. Any other woman would have fainted from excitement at his attention.
And yet this woman—walked away even faster.
The brown-haired man immediately moved to follow her.
But just then, a maid—seemingly lacking any sense of timing—stepped in his path with a tray.
“Would you like a drink, sir?”
“No, thank you.”
Without sparing her a glance, Tsunayoshi Sawada stepped around her and hurried after the silver-haired woman.
Aaron, feeling thirsty, called out for a glass of wine.
But the expressionless maid only gave him a cold look—then walked away without a word.
Aaron: “?”
What was that about? Were Vongola maids always this arrogant?
Molly knew nothing of what happened behind her.
Her breathing grew uneven, her throat tight, her vision slightly blurred.
It must be too hot.
Once she stepped outside and got some air, she would feel better.
The exit was only a dozen meters away.
Almost there.
She let out a quiet breath of relief.
But just as she was about to step out—just one second before her escape—
her left wrist was seized again from behind.
The same spot as before.
But this time, the grip was hotter. Burning.
And accompanied by the voice she hated most.
“Molly. There’s no way I could mistake you.”
…So what was he trying to say? Showing off his memory?
His grip was even stronger than before. She couldn’t break free.
Stubbornly, she stood with her back to him, refusing to turn around.
Her voice was cold, distant.
“Mr. Sawada, does it really matter who I am or what my name is—to you now?”
“…”
His hand stiffened.
After a few seconds of silence, he spoke again.
“You’re right. It doesn’t really matter.”
There was a faint trace of self-mockery in his voice.
“I just saw an old acquaintance and wanted to catch up.”
She had prepared herself for this.
But hearing him actually say it—
still made her heart ache.
Just like before, she still hated him.
Her throat tightened painfully. After a long silence, she replied coldly:
“Everyone’s busy. Let’s not waste time here.”
“…”
Another suffocating silence followed.
Then a faint sigh.
“Molly… today is my birthday.”
He didn’t say the rest.
He knew she would understand.
It was a promise they had made long ago.
But Molly wished she didn’t understand.
“I’ve already forgotten.”
She forced her tone to sound light.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Sawada. I didn’t prepare any gift.”
“But someone like you doesn’t lack gifts or friends. Someone like me isn’t worth remembering.”
“…”
His grip tightened. It hurt.
And trembled.
“I actually—”
She cut him off.
“Can you let go?”
She tried to suppress the tremor in her voice.
“It wouldn’t look good if someone saw.”
That seemed to provoke him.
“What wouldn’t look good?”
He yanked her back.
She stumbled, forced to turn and face him.
She stood just outside the banquet hall, her figure swallowed by darkness.
He stood inside, bathed in dazzling light, surrounded by noise and brilliance.
The light was too bright—her vision blurred. She couldn’t clearly see his expression.
Only those brown eyes—
filled with suppressed anger and pain.
“You really don’t want to see me that much?”
Molly lowered her gaze, avoiding him.
She must have been mistaken.
Seeing her like this—trying to escape, trembling—he should have felt satisfied.
How could he possibly feel pain?
“That’s right,” she said flatly. “I don’t want to see you at all.”
She pried his fingers off, one by one.
Her expression was cold, mocking.
“Let go. I wouldn’t want my boyfriend to misunderstand.”
This time, he froze completely.
Tsunayoshi Sawada let go.
He straightened, his hand falling to his side, fingers trembling slightly.
Head lowered, bangs shadowing his eyes—he smiled.
“…After all this time, he still hasn’t been dumped by you?”
“…?”
Molly blinked, caught off guard.
She didn’t even have a boyfriend—she had just said that to provoke him. What did he mean?
Still confused, she suddenly felt like she had regained the upper hand.
So she went along with it.
“That’s right. I love him very much. We’re planning to get married soon. I’ll send you an invitation—you must come.”
She smiled smugly.
“I see. Then I’ll wish you happiness.”
He looked up, smiling. Even his eyes curved into a smile—though the emotion behind them was unreadable.
But his voice was cold.
“What a coincidence. I’ll be getting married soon as well. Molly, you must come and witness it.”
Witness it?!
Molly’s smile froze instantly.
Who invites their ex to their wedding?!
He had definitely changed over the past ten years—talking like that, deliberately trying to provoke her!
She had already forgotten that she started it.
But why was she angry?
Because her “boyfriend” and “marriage” were lies—
while his seemed real.
It felt like she had completely lost.
Her throat was dry. Her heart throbbed painfully.
She forced herself to maintain composure.
At some point, a maid had appeared nearby with a tray of wine.
Molly gestured for her to come closer. She took two glasses, handed one to him, and raised the other.
“I’ve just taken over my family, so I’ll be busy. I won’t attend your wedding—but I wish you a happy marriage.”
The red wine swirled.
Their glasses clinked.
Molly tilted her head back and drained hers in one gulp.
It tasted sour and bitter.
But cold.
Cold enough to momentarily suppress the chaos in her chest.
When she finished, she realized Tsunayoshi hadn’t moved—just standing there, staring at her in silence.
“You’re not drinking?”
She tossed her empty glass back onto the tray—then grabbed his glass and drank it too, right from his hand.
She didn’t see the maid’s widened eyes.
A faint flush spread across Molly’s pale cheeks.
“That’s it. I’m leaving.”
She turned.
This time, he didn’t stop her.
Her silver hair swayed as she paused briefly—then walked away.
In the air, barely audible—
“…Happy birthday.”