Julius stood face-to-face with Aiseline on the balcony, the cold night breeze brushing past them. He held out an entire champagne bottle toward her.

"Would you like a drink, Miss Aiseline?"

"...When did you get that?"

"It’s a politician’s skill to steal in front of the public without them even realizing it."

Aiseline stared at him for a moment, unsure whether to be impressed or concerned, then sighed.

"I don’t understand what you’ve been up to these days," she began. "First, you call off our engagement, then you start appearing on live television... now you’re going around marketing whatever endeavors you’re up to. Do you even know what people are saying behind your back?"

"Are you concerned?" Julius asked.

"T-that’s not it..." Aiseline stumbled over her words. "It’s just... we’ve been together for quite a long time. I can’t just turn a blind eye to whatever you’re doing. It’s—it’s just really weird, Mister Schneider."

"Long time, yet you’ve always refused to call me by my first name."

"...."

Aiseline froze for a heartbeat, realizing he had a point. She closed her eyes and let out a slow breath before speaking again.

"This is my last night in Berlin."

Julius’s brows raised. "What?"

"I’m moving to the States," she continued. "I received an offer for my music career, and Father has expansion plans in Seattle. You no longer need to provide us with any support. We’ll stand on our own two feet."

She kept her eyes on the city below.

"When are you leaving?"

"Tomorrow morning."

Julius nearly choked on his drink. "That’s... sudden."

Before regression, Aiseline had lived and died in Germany. She had never moved to the States, not even when countless offers came her way. But that was likely because, in that life, their engagement had never been annulled.

This... her decision to leave... must have been the ripple caused by breaking things off in the present.

"Yes," she said. "So, if you don’t mind, I’d like to say everything I’ve been bottling up all these years."

Julius swallowed, then set the champagne on the ledge. "...Go ahead."

"I hated you, Mister Schneider," she said with a frown. "I still hate you. I hate how you ruined my life, my father’s life, and my friends’ lives. I hate how you act so nice to me and pretend you’ve done nothing wrong. I hate how you treat my father like he’s insignificant, despite how much he respects you, despite everything you did to him. I hate how you walk around thinking nothing touches you."

"...."

"I hate how people say your name with admiration even though they don’t know what you’re really like. I hate that you get to smile in public like you’re some hero."

Julius stayed silent.

"I hate that you think saying sorry is enough," she continued. "And I hate that I waited so long for that apology. I kept expecting you to be someone you never were. That’s my fault, I know. But it still hurts."

She pressed her lips together, emotions welling in her eyes.

"I hate that you’re so untouchable. That no matter what you do, no one can hurt you back. I hate that you ruined my father’s company just because you could. I hate that you crushed his spirit and then had the nerve to ask him to keep smiling beside you. Do you know how much it hurt watching him pretend nothing happened?"

"...."

"I hate that you looked at me with pity. Like I was some kind of child that would get herself in trouble if you weren’t looking. I hate that I stayed. I hate that I let myself believe you cared."

She took a shaky breath.

"And the worst part? I hate that even now... even after everything... a part of me still cares about you. And I don’t know why."

She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, turning away slightly.

"You ruined so much. And I just kept letting you take more. My time, my dignity, my dreams. Because I thought maybe... just maybe... you’d look back one day and say you were wrong."

The wind blew across the balcony, scattering her words into the night.

"And you did."

Whoosh——

"Yet you did it only when it was convenient for you. When you realize it wasn’t worth keeping me anymore after everything."

"...."

"I know you’ve changed. Or maybe you’re just pretending again. I don’t know anymore. And I don’t want to know. What I do know is... I’m done holding on to something that only ever gave me pain."

She walked past him.

"That’s all."

Julius turned, reached out, and caught her gently by the wrist.

"...I loved you."

"...."

Aiseline stared at his hand holding hers. She didn’t pull away. She didn’t answer right away either. When she finally spoke, she didn’t even look back at him.

"You don’t know what it means to love, Julius."

He said nothing. His grip loosened, and Aiseline gently pulled her wrist free. She turned and walked back inside. Julius didn’t stop her this time.

As the balcony door closed, he stood alone in the cold night air.

From that exchange, he finally understood why she had come. The only reason she accepted the commission to perform tonight was to see him, just to speak, to say the things she had been too afraid to voice before.

She had carried those feelings of resentment and pain for years. Leftover affection she couldn’t quite uproot. Tonight was her farewell, not just to her motherland, but to him.

Julius let out a breath and leaned against the railing, downing a bottle of champagne.

He took out his phone and scanned the message.

[Waiting for client. Please wire €500,000 to proceed.]

Attached to the message was a photo of Leo Roland Deutschmann.

Julius transferred the funds, moving the money through an underground channel on the deep web. The fixers handled everything from routing to laundering until the payment reached its destination without a trace.

Such were the services of the deep web.