Page 73 of Possessive Billionaire's Twisted Hunt

"Christian?" Larry broke the tense silence. "Do you think that her depression was because you left the country overnight without telling her?”

Larry watched as Christian stood abruptly, his fingers trembling as he closed the file.

"She wrote behind my photo that she loved me," Christian repeated, his voice hollow. "I did that to her."

The weight of guilt crushed him from the inside. If he had known she loved him too—if he had just realized it back then—he wouldn’t have left her like that. Even if he hadn’t wanted to drag her into his broken life, with his broken body, he could have at least told her he was leaving and why. He could have done something to take care of her, even from a distance.

But he had assumed she didn’t have feelings for him. That she would move on.

He was wrong. At every step, he had been wrong.

He never got over her. And she had been in love with him just as much as he was.

He had broken down—and he had taken her down with him.

"Christian—" Larry started, but Christian shoved his hand aside and stormed out of the office.

***

At home, Christian paced back and forth, glancing at his watch impatiently.

The sound of the door unlocking made him turn instantly.

Ivy walked inside, surprised to see him waiting.

He rushed to her, grabbing her hand and leading her to the couch. Gently, he made her sit down before offering her a glass of juice, and taking a seat next to her.

She took it with a confused expression, drinking under his watchful gaze. Finally, she frowned. "What’s going on? Why are you looking at me like that?"

Christian took her hand in his, and before she could react, he suddenly lifted her into his arms, pulling her onto his lap.

She gasped, landing against his chest. His arms wrapped around her, his head burying into her neck. His head rested against her neck, his breaths heavy. He pressed soft kisses along her skin, his arms wrapped tightly around her, as if he needed to feel her warmth to breathe properly.

He held her like that for a long time. She could feel his heartbeat, rapid and unsteady.

"Christian?" she whispered.

Finally, he pulled back, looking into her eyes.

There was immense sadness in them, a sorrow so deep it looked as if he could barely breathe.

"I’m sorry," he murmured. "I disappeared five years ago without telling you. I left the country without a word."

Ivy gave a small shrug. "It’s alright. It was a long time ago. I don’t even remember it anymore."

She had spent years trying to forget it.

For an entire year, she had relived that nightmare—showing up at work only to discover that he was gone. Seeing the news that he had left the country without a single goodbye to her.

But after therapy for a long time, she had gotten better.

And after learning that Christian hadn’t abandoned her without a reason—that he had been sick—her pain had dulled, giving her the clarity she had searched for all these years.

So she told him softly, "Christian, don’t worry. It’s fine."

But Christian shook his head and buried his face in her neck again.

Without warning, he stood and swept her into his arms, her body pressing flush against his chest as he carried her toward the stairs with effortless strength.

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