A Room Filled with Regret and Rage

(Katerina Maa's POV – The Man She Can't Control Anymore)

The hotel room was silent, but inside her mind, a storm raged.

Katerina paced back and forth, her high heels clicking against the marble floor. The city lights outside the window did nothing to calm her frustration.

Her fists clenched, her jaw tight.

Henry.

Or rather, Liberty.

The man who had once worshipped her, who had once been hers, was now moving through the world as if she never existed.

And tonight?

He had the audacity to dance with Windy Zhong.

Windy Zhong.

The woman Katerina despised the most.

How dare he?

How dare he talk to her? Laugh with her? Touch her?

She had seen it all—every step of their dance, every glance exchanged between them.

And it had felt like a direct slap to her face.

She grabbed a bottle of wine from the counter, pouring herself a glass with shaky hands.

She gulped down the drink, but it did nothing to drown the bitterness inside her.

Katerina slammed the glass down on the table, gripping the edge as her reflection stared back at her from the mirror.

"How can he push me away for one mistake?" she whispered, her voice filled with frustration.

"One mistake."

That was what she told herself.

But deep down?

She hated to admit the truth.

She hadn't just cheated.

She had been searching for comfort in another man's arms.

And worse?

She had planned to deceive Henry if she got pregnant.

She had been ready to lie to his face, to make him believe the child was his—because at the time, it had seemed easier than losing him.

And now?

Now he was moving through life as if she was nothing.

"Damn you, Henry."

She wanted to scream.

To tear apart this entire room just to release the rage clawing at her chest.

How could he erase his past so easily?

How could he act as if she never existed?

Her mind flickered back to that day in Norway—his art exhibition.

She had gone there, still believing she had control over him.

Still believing that Henry Hans belonged to her.

But what had he done?

He had humiliated her.

He had acted as if he didn't know her.

And then, with that damn smirk, he had whispered something that had broken her completely.

"If you need a bedwarmer for one night, I can satisfy you, Ms. Maa. But don't mistake me for someone, I don't know anyone named Henry."

She had never felt such humiliation in her life.

And now, here she was, watching him move on while she was stuck in the past.

Katerina's hands trembled as she poured herself another glass of wine.

She would never admit it—never say it out loud.

But deep down?

She knew she had lost him.

Henry wasn't coming back.

Not after everything she had done.

Not after betraying him.

Not after breaking him.

Her eyes burned, but she refused to cry.

Because Katerina Maa didn't cry.

She fought.

She would find a way.

She had to.

Because if Henry was truly gone…

Then what was left of her?

The wine glass in Katerina's hand trembled slightly, her grip tightening as she stared out at the city lights.

Her mind was spinning, replaying everything.

Henry.

Liberty.

Windy Zhong.

The humiliation.

The way he looked at her as if she was a stranger.

The way he danced with Windy, showing the world that he had moved on—while she was left here, drowning in her own rage and frustration.

Katerina slammed the glass down on the table, her breath heavy.

"No," she muttered, shaking her head. "I won't let it end like this."

Henry was her man.

Her husband.

It didn't matter if he was calling himself Liberty now, didn't matter if he erased every trace of his past.

She knew who he was.

And she would make sure he remembered.

She turned sharply, grabbing her phone and dialing a number.

A few rings later, her assistant answered.

"Ms. Maa?"

"I want a full report on everything Liberty has been doing in the last six months. His business, his contacts, his movements. I don't care if he's changed his name—he can't erase himself completely."

Her assistant hesitated. "Ms. Maa, are you sure? Mr. Hans—"

"I said Liberty." She cut her off coldly. "And I don't need your opinion. Just do it."

A pause. Then, "Understood."

The call ended, and Katerina exhaled slowly.

If Henry wanted to play this game, she would play too.

And she didn't care what it took—

She would make him hers again.