The cuffs of the shirt were rolled up, and the collar was opened very low. That was the spare shirt I kept in the office lounge for emergencies.

"Mr. Keaton, you're here."

But Emmett didn't get up. Instead, he just flashed me a brilliant smile. "Ms. Carrington said you weren't feeling well, so she asked me to help organize your files first."

As he spoke, he deliberately waved the cup in his hand. "This cup is really pretty. Ms. Carrington said I can have it. You won't mind, right?"

I stared at him, the suffocating pressure from my mysophobia making my fingertips go numb.

"Put it down," I said, my voice icy.

As if startled, Emmett's hand jerked. The scalding coffee poured straight onto the financing proposal I'd just printed out last night. The brown liquid instantly spread across the papers, ruining three consecutive all-nighters' worth of my work.

"Oh, no! I'm so sorry!"

He jumped up in a panic, babbling apologies, but his eyes sparkled with provocation.

Colleagues around us peeked in, whispering among themselves. Among the looks they were giving us, few were of sympathy, while most were simply delighting in the drama.

Ruby walked in at that moment. She didn't even glance at the ruined papers. Her first reaction was to grab Emmett's hand.

"Did you get burned?"

Emmett's eyes reddened as he sidled next to her.

"Ms. Carrington, it's all my fault. I accidentally ruined Bruno's files."

Ruby turned to me, her brows furrowed deeply.

"It's just a document. You can redo it. Why are you being so harsh?" she snapped. "Look at yourself right now. You're like a bitter old man."

I stared at the mess on the floor. That was the final push I'd made to secure Series C funding for her. But she only had eyes for that delicate young man who knew how to act cute.

Emmett hid behind her. While she leaned in to comfort him, he mouthed something at me. "Old man."

In that instant, something inside me shattered completely.

"Ruby, get this intern out of my office right now," I said, suppressing my anger and trying to keep my tone calm.

Ruby bristled instantly. To preserve her authority in front of her new boy toy, she made an announcement right on the spot.

"Starting today, Emmett Stone is promoted to the position of executive assistant. His office will be right next to yours.

"And over the next few days, you'll personally train him on core business."

She phrased it as mentoring, but in reality, she was planning on siphoning power from me to the useless kid.

I looked at her and asked coldly, "Are you sure?"

"Bruno Keaton, don't talk to me in that tone."

With that, she left with Emmett in tow.

…

That night, back at the house, that sense of intrusion only worsened.

When I went to the bathroom to shower, I noticed that my electric toothbrush had been used. The head was wet, and it still carried the rich smell of cinnamon-flavored toothpaste from a certain brand—a brand I never used.

Back in the bedroom, my pillow smelled of cheap cologne. It was Emmett's scent.

My mysophobia flared completely out of control at that moment.

I grabbed the sheets, comforter, and pillows off the bed and furiously threw them all into the trash.

Ruby happened to walk in right then. When she saw the naked mattress, she exploded.

"Bruno Keaton! Have you lost your mind? I only brought Emmett back to grab a file, and he rested here for a little bit. Is all this seriously necessary?"

I looked at her and found the person in front of me was utterly foreign.

"You brought him into our bedroom?"

"This is my house! I can bring whoever I want!"

With that, she stormed out and slammed the door behind her, not even sparing a glance back.

Ten minutes later, I saw her social media post. The photo showed her mixing drinks for Emmett at a bar, the lighting deliberately intimate.

The caption read, "Younger ones are still better. Less rigid rules."

I sat on the living room floor, staring at the sheets in the trash. The love in my heart was being stripped away bit by bit by this unbearable disgust.

I took out my phone and dialed the headhunter's number.

"Help me get in touch with that investment bank that's been trying to poach me. I'm ready to jump ship," I told the headhunter.

At the same time, I started going through all the assets we held jointly. Since everything was already tainted, I might as well destroy it all.

…

The company's semi-annual team-building dinner was held at an upscale seafood restaurant.

Ruby insisted on bringing Emmett along and had him sit to her right. Meanwhile, I—the so-called soon-to-be fiance—was squeezed into a corner at the far end of the long table.

Throughout dinner, Ruby's attention never left Emmett. She peeled shrimp for him and tended to him with meticulous care.

No one mentioned me. I might as well have been an extra on the scene.

Suddenly, Emmett looked up, his eyes landing on one of the restaurant's signature dishes on the table—shrimp croquettes coated in thick, fruity sauce.

He spooned one up himself and, in front of everyone, placed it onto my plate.

"Mr. Keaton, this is the restaurant's signature dish. Give it a try."

He smiled innocently, but his eyes gleamed with malice.

The entire company knew that I had a severe allergy to mango and certain types of seafood. This was especially true of mango, where even the slightest trace could cause my throat to swell shut and be potentially fatal.

And the main ingredient of that dish's sauce was none other than mango puree.

Ruby had always been extremely cautious about this. Even when eating out, she'd always warn the chef in advance. But now, she merely glanced at my plate and spoke as if it didn't matter.

"Em served it to you. Just eat one. Don't embarrass him in front of everyone. You're just being a baby. Eating one won't kill you."

The colleagues around us started to egg me on, saying I should at least do her the courtesy. Their noisy clamor stabbed into my ears like sharp needles.

To prevent the scene from turning completely awkward—and to see exactly how heartless Ruby could be—I took a small bite right in front of her.

Within three short minutes, my neck began to burn. A suffocating sensation rushed over me like a tide, and I could feel my throat swelling rapidly.

"Ru… Ruby…"

I barely managed to squeeze out her name, pleading for her help.

But Ruby happened to be whispering something in Emmett's ear, and my interruption made her visibly annoyed.

"What now? Do you really need to put on an act over just one shrimp croquette?"

Just then, Emmett suddenly let out a yelp, clutching the back of his hand.

"Ouch! That hurts. I think a mosquito bit me. Look, there's a little red bump."

Ruby's expression changed instantly as she anxiously cradled his hand.

"How could you be so careless? Is it an allergic reaction?"

She frantically blew on the barely visible red spot, her eyes overflowing with concern.

"Don't worry. I've got imported ointment in the car. We'll go put it on now."

She shook off my hand, which I had stretched out in desperation, not even sparing me a glance. With Emmett pressed to her side, they walked out of the private room, leaving me behind.

Under everyone's stares, I gasped for air like a fish out of water. My vision began to blur, and my consciousness slowly slipped away.

In the end, it was a passing waiter who noticed something was wrong with me and called 911.

…

The lights in the ER were blindingly harsh. Medication was pushed into my vein by the doctor, and my oxygen mask fogged with every breath.

In that moment, while I listened to the steady beeping of the monitors, I found my heart strangely calm.

Ruby, the woman who had sworn she'd love me and honor me for the rest of her life, had abandoned me while I was on the verge of death… all for a mosquito bite.

…

It was three days later before I was discharged.

That was when Ruby finally called, and the first thing out of her mouth was a complaint.

"Bruno, where have you been the past few days? I couldn't get through on your phone either. Em is having trouble with a proposal. Hurry back to the office and help him fix it.

"And you really overdid the whole 'sick act' at the team-building dinner, too. You ruined everyone's good time."

I gripped the phone, listening to that entitled tone of hers.

My throat still ached faintly—an aftereffect of intubation.

"Ruby, I nearly died," I said, my tone low and flat, without any inflection.

There was a pause on the other end of the line, followed by Ruby's scoffing laugh.

"Enough already. Stop playing the victim. That trick gets old when you overuse it.

"There's a meeting at 2:00 pm. If you're not there, I'll deduct your year-end bonus."

I calmly hung up the phone. No anger, no making a scene. Then, I called the moving company and told them to be at the house at 2:00 pm on the dot.

…

I went back to the office, but it wasn't to help Emmett with his proposal. No, it was to wait for the real show to begin.

Today was the signing ceremony for a multinational project, one that was very important to the company.

When I walked into the conference room, Emmett was smugly presenting his so-called "accomplishments"—a data report that he had altered on his own. To show off his capabilities, he'd lowered several cost items, making the profit margins appear sky-high.

But that was illegal and would inevitably lead to a cash flow rupture down the line.

Martin Lidell, the representative from the investment side and a shrewd old fox, noticed this right away.

"Ms. Carrington, these numbers are off, aren't they? This looks like potential fraud," Martin said, slamming the folder down hard on the table.

Ruby froze. She hadn't even looked at the report because she trusted Emmett completely. She turned to him in a panic.

Meanwhile, Emmett had turned pale and was shooting a pleading look in my direction.

"It… It was Mr. Keaton who told me to make the changes!" Emmett said, suddenly pointing at me. "He said newbies need to make a splash and that numbers have to look impressive so investors will sign.

"Bruno, I didn't dare disobey you! How could you put the company at risk like this?"

Ruby, as if seizing a lifeline, whirled on me and roared, "Bruno Keaton! Why would you do this? Just because I've been a little indifferent to you lately, you decide to toy with the company's future? You're actually so jealous of an intern that you'd destroy my hard work?"

She called me a lunatic in front of all the executives and accused me of being twisted and malicious. She was trying to dump all the blame on me to protect Emmett.

I stared at the two of them, clearly colluding against me, and found the whole thing absurd.

"Ruby, every edit to this report is logged on the cloud server. It only takes one check to see exactly who did it," I calmly refuted.

However, that only enraged the already out-of-control Ruby even further. She grabbed the glass ashtray from the table, intending to smash it to vent, but she used too much force, and the ashtray arced through the air, flying straight toward my face.

I instinctively raised my hand to block it.

A loud crash sounded, and searing pain exploded across the back of my right hand.

The ashtray shattered. Razor-sharp glass shards embedded deep into my flesh. Blood gushed out instantly, soaking the white documents on the table.

I came from a design background—these hands were my life.

Ruby froze. A flash of panic crossed her eyes as she stared at my bloodied hand. But she quickly hardened her expression again and waved her hand irritably.

"It was just an accident. Who told you to block it? Stop acting so dramatic."

Emmett seized the chance to fan the flames. "Bruno, even though your hand is injured, you still have to compensate for the losses."

Ruby nodded. "I'll freeze your dividend shares to cover this hole. Also, I'm suing you for embezzlement. You can wait to receive a letter from my lawyer."

I stared at the gaping wound on the back of my hand, blood dripping onto the floor in bright, spreading blooms.

A burst of laughter escaped me.

With my left hand, I pulled a blue folder from my bag.

"Ruby, this contains evidence of your tax evasion over the past two years and the transaction records of you embezzling company funds to buy a house for Emmett.

"This hand—I'll consider it payment for the seven years we spent together.

"From this moment on, you're the one who owes me."