Elizabeth York sat in her luxury SUV, scrolling through her phone with little focus.

Online articles were multiplying rapidly, nearly eclipsing the scandal surrounding Samuel Mitchell and Sophia Mitchell.

She finally arrived at Levine Manor. Stepping out of the vehicle, she spotted Ethan Parker waiting by the grand entrance.

Elizabeth walked straight past him, pretending he was invisible.

"Elizabeth," he called out softly.

She continued ignoring him.

"Elizabeth," he tried again, reaching for her arm.

She swiftly pulled her wrist away, turning to face him with an icy glare. "Don't touch me. I don't want your filth on me."

Ethan's fingers curled into fists as he lowered his hand. "Have you decided how to handle the media situation?"

"My agency is managing it. Don't worry about your precious television series."

"That's William in the photo, isn't it? From my father's seventieth birthday celebration."

His tone was certain, but Elizabeth offered no confirmation. He continued, "I could speak with him on your behalf. Perhaps he could arrange a media blackout."

Though William disapproved of Elizabeth's acting career and rarely offered assistance, he shared a close bond with Ethan. Being William's uncle, Ethan usually held some influence over him.

But Elizabeth wanted none of it.

"Just stay away from me, Ethan Parker," she snapped.

He swallowed hard, remaining silent.

"I've been doing everything to avoid you," she continued, her voice trembling with suppressed emotion. "I wouldn't even be staying here if William hadn't insisted. I certainly wouldn't have taken a role in your production. Can't you just leave me alone when I'm clearly not fighting back?!"

Tears welled in her eyes despite her composed expression.

For eight long years, she had struggled to forget and restrain her feelings.

The effort had been excruciating, tearing her apart inside.

And here he stood, offering pity and creating more confusion.

"I'm sorry," he murmured.

Another apology.

It was all he ever gave her.

"I thought we—"

"You thought I don't love you anymore?" Elizabeth finished his sentence bluntly.

Ethan pressed his lips together. "I'm not worthy of your love."

"Absolutely not. I feel like such a fool." A bitter smile touched her lips. "But it doesn't matter anymore. After all these years, I've grown accustomed to the pain. Just stop bothering me, and I can pretend I never loved you at all."

As Ethan stood speechless, she brushed past him. "Goodnight, Uncle Ethan."

She walked away calmly, showing no trace of heartbreak or misery—as if she hadn't been the one rejected all those years ago.

She never saw how Ethan was fighting to control himself, his knuckles white from how tightly he clenched his fists.

Meanwhile, hidden in the shadows, a paparazzo slipped away quietly, satisfied with the photos he had captured.