Olivia followed Carl into a lavish private room.

The clamor inside died the instant he appeared, everyone rising to their feet in respect. He walked in and took his seat on the central sofa, with Olivia hurrying after him.

Carl slammed a check down hard on the coffee table, his voice icy. “You love to debase yourself, don’t you? Fine. I’ll let you.”

“Get on your knees and toast every single one of my employees. One glass, and I’ll give you twenty thousand.”

“Drink until every person here is satisfied—then this money is yours.”

Olivia’s gaze swept the room. There were at least forty, maybe fifty people. And the check in front of Carl was for one million.

One million.

Enough for the heart transplant she desperately needed.

Pamela moved to pull Olivia back. “Carl, don’t do this. Making her kneel and kowtow—it’s too degrading. She still has some dignity left.”

Olivia took a step back, avoiding Pamela’s touch. “I need the money. Compared to money, what’s dignity worth?”

She strode forward, picked up a bottle, filled a glass, and without hesitation, knelt before one of the men. “To you.”

The man was taken aback, then picked up his glass and clinked it against hers.

Then came the second, the third, the fourth…

Under the assault of strong liquor, her stomach churned violently. Every forced swallow scraped like a blade against her raw throat.

But she couldn’t stop.

She needed money. A lot of it.

Gradually, some grew restless. A stream of humiliating remarks followed, accompanied by wandering hands that landed on her collarbone, her chest, even her thighs.

She didn’t resist.

Olivia could feel the heat of Carl’s glare boring into her back.

Finally, she stood before him again.

She filled her glass once more, then dropped heavily to her already swollen knees, the impact a dull thud against the hard floor.

“Mr. Carl. A toast to you.”

She tilted her head back. Just as her lips touched the rim, Carl’s hand shot out, smacking the glass from her grasp.

A loud crash.

Behind her, the coffee table was kicked over violently. Shards of glass exploded, slicing deep cuts into Olivia’s arm.

But Olivia barely felt the pain. She scrambled forward on her knees, raking frantically through the glass until her bleeding fingers found and clutched the check.

“Olivia!”

With Carl’s gritted shout, the room spun. She was dragged bodily out of the door.

In the dark, empty private room next door, Olivia was thrown roughly onto a sofa. Carl pinned her wrists, his eyes bloodshot with raw hatred.

“Olivia! Do you really have to debase yourself like this for money?!”

Olivia lowered her gaze, not daring to meet his eyes. “I don’t want to live in poverty anymore, Carl. In this world, everything is fake. Only the money in your hand is real.”

“So, even the nine years between us… that was fake too?”

Olivia felt the tears rising, but she forced them back, steadying her trembling voice. “Yes.”

“You were just a bet I placed. My luck ran out. I didn’t have the patience to wait for you to succeed.”

“Carl, asking me this… do you still have feelings for me? Honestly, if you just nod, we could keep seeing each other. Secretly.”

*Slap.*

A sharp crack echoed through the room.

Olivia’s head snapped to the side, her cheek burning.

“A woman like you… the sight of you disgusts me.”

The grip on her wrists vanished. Olivia looked up, her eyes fixed on his tall, retreating back.

Cold. And final.

Carl opened the door. Olivia’s heart suddenly hammered wildly. She opened her mouth to call him back, only to see Pamela appear in the doorway.

Slipping her arm through Carl’s, Pamela smiled with gentle triumph. “All done? We should go.”

“The private jet route is approved. I want to see the island you bought for me.”

The words died in Olivia’s throat.

The door closed, plunging the room back into silence.

Olivia clutched the check in her palm. A silent sob escaped, then another, until she could no longer hold back, collapsing into ragged, broken weeping.

The door opened once more. Hurried footsteps approached, and then Olivia was pulled into a warm embrace.

“What happened? Olivia, don’t cry…”

Carol fumbled, wiping Olivia’s tears away.

Olivia pressed the crumpled check into Carol’s hand. “I have money now, Carol. I have money.”

“I can get treatment. I can pay Nancy’s school fees…”

She cried until she was breathless, gasping between sobs. “I didn’t want this. I really didn’t want this…”

If she’d had a choice, she wouldn’t have trampled the last shred of her dignity.

But time was a luxury she didn’t have.

“It’s okay, it’s over now. With this money, you can get better. The worst is behind you, isn’t it?”

Olivia scrubbed fiercely at her tears, but the hollow, suffocating ache in her chest was killing her.

She knew her life would never truly be whole again.

But even a life riddled with holes—she would fight with everything she had to keep living.

Exhausted, Olivia dragged herself home.

A warm light spilled from their tiny rented apartment. Hearing the door, Nancy—in her favorite pink nightgown—ran out in little slippers and wrapped her arms around Olivia’s legs.

“Mommy!”

“My good girl, look what Mommy brought you!”

Olivia smiled, holding up a strawberry cake.

Nancy’s eyes lit up. She clapped her hands happily. “Strawberry cake!”

Carol watched, frowning, as Nancy skipped off to get her little apron.

“Why haven’t you told Carl he has a daughter?”

Olivia’s hand went still, her fingers tightening unconsciously.

Yes. She and Carl had a child together.

At sixteen, she’d made the bravest decision of her life—running away from the group home with Carl, never looking back.

They took a train for over ten hours, arriving in this strange, sprawling city.

Life was lived at the very bottom. At their lowest, they squeezed into a shoebox apartment, splitting a single pack of instant noodles.

Four years later, having saved a decent sum from street vending, Carl started his own business.

But they hadn’t accounted for human treachery. Betrayed by a partner, he was left drowning in debt, wiped out overnight.

The pressure was suffocating. Carl would jolt awake in the dead of night, and Olivia would always find him on the balcony, the cherry of his cigarette burning a solitary red in the dark.

That was when Pamela, her closest friend, introduced her to an upscale nightclub.

Olivia was pretty, with a good figure. Hired as a cocktail waitress, she pulled in a shocking amount in tips her very first night.

If she could ease even a little of Carl’s burden, she thought, it would be enough.

Until one day, for fifteen hundred dollars, she drank the glass a customer handed her.

She woke up naked, pinned beneath a middle-aged, overweight man.

She struggled. She screamed. It was useless.

Afterward, the man threw a wad of cash in her face.

Fifty thousand. A full fifty grand.

She’d never imagined one night of hers could be worth that much.

But when she told Pamela, her friend said, “That’s a *good* thing! Fifty grand—there are plenty of women at the club who’d kill for that and never see half of it.”

“Isn’t Carl desperate for money right now? I heard the bank people came by again, pressing you. Honestly, if this works… maybe you should consider…”

Olivia’s heart dropped.

She thought of Carl these past days, tormented by debt collectors, barely sleeping. Slowly, her hands clenched into fists.

Pamela gently took her hand. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep it secret. If you’re willing… I have some connections. I can help you…”

Olivia bit her lower lip until it bled, then gave a hard nod.

She was already ruined. What did it matter if she was defiled further?

As long as it helped Carl through this crisis, as long as he got what he wanted, she was willing.

And so, she began saving up. Bit by bit.

Ten thousand, twenty thousand…

She shattered herself, trading in the cheapest kind of allure, faking desire for one man after another.

Eventually, Carl found out.

The moment the door opened, she was pinned beneath a burly, middle-aged man.

Their eyes met. In Carl’s gaze, she saw disappointment, fury, agony, despair.

She knew there was no going back.

Facing Carl’s heart-wrenching accusations, Olivia laughed—a sharp, brittle sound, utterly devoid of warmth.

“What did you expect? You’re useless.”

“I’m done living hand-to-mouth because of you! Coming to Ashford showed me money really is everything.”

“Even love isn’t enough to make me suffer in some rented hole with you.”

“Now that you know, I’m done pretending. Let’s break up, Carl. I’m tired of being poor!”

Later, Carl really left.

Completely, utterly—vanishing from her world.

And Olivia? She let herself go completely, moving from one man’s bed to another.

It wasn’t until the day she discovered she was pregnant that she anonymously transferred all the money she’d earned over two months into Carl’s account.

For five years, Olivia prayed every single day.

She prayed Carl would achieve his dreams. A man like him, so talented, shouldn’t be buried by poverty.

Fortunately, he succeeded.

Five years later, he swaggered back into the city, fiancée in tow.

It was fine.

From now on, their lives would return to separate tracks. And this secret—she would bury it deep in her heart.

Until death.

Olivia fished her diagnosis report from her bag and dialed the number on it.

“Dr. Caleb, I’ve got the money for the transplant surgery. I’ll come to the hospital tomorrow to discuss the details?”

A pause on the other end.

“Actually, Ms. Olivia, I was just about to call you.”

“Half an hour ago, someone offered two million and bought the heart.”

“If you can bid higher, there might still be a chance…”

The world went dark before Olivia’s eyes.

“The one million I have… I nearly killed myself to get it. Another million on top of that? How could I possibly raise that…”

“Well… how about this, Ms. Olivia. I’ll give you the contact for the buyer. Talk to him properly. This person… his status is unusual. Two million is nothing to him. See if he might be willing to give up the heart.”

The call ended. Olivia clutched her phone, waiting for Dr. Caleb’s text.

With a *ding*, she opened it immediately.

A string of familiar numbers appeared on the screen.

The realization settled in her gut—a cold, hard weight.

This number… she’d recited it ten thousand times over the past five years. No one knew it better than her.

The one who bought the heart was Carl.

Outside the headquarters of Carl’s Group, Olivia stood staring up.

The office tower loomed, impossibly tall, its peak lost in the low-hanging clouds. She’d looked up at buildings like this so many times before. Carl used to say that once he finally made it, he’d take her all the way to the top—to look down on the city they’d conquer together.

Now, she couldn’t even get past the front door.

Shoved back by security for what felt like the hundredth time, Olivia stumbled and fell to the pavement. A wave of utter helplessness washed over her.

Into her line of sight stepped a pair of designer heels. Pamela stood over her, perfectly sculpted brows furrowed in distaste.

“Olivia. Still clinging to him like a bad smell?”

Olivia pushed herself up, unsteady. “I need to see Carl.”

“You want to see him? Does he want to see *you*?” Pamela’s voice dripped scorn. “He wishes you’d vanished off the face of the earth! Just the thought of the disgusting things you did makes him sick.”

She leaned in slightly. “If I were you, I’d have taken that million and crawled away with my tail between my legs.”

Olivia’s hand shot out before the last word faded. The crack of her palm against Pamela’s cheek echoed across the plaza.

“Pamela,” Olivia said, her voice low and shaking. “Anyone else can judge me. But *you*? You don’t have the right.”

A moment later, a powerful shove sent Olivia sprawling backward.

Carl stood there now, shielding Pamela, looking down at Olivia with icy contempt.

“I gave you the money,” he said, each word a shard of ice. “What more do you want?”

Olivia’s gaze fixed on their intertwined fingers, her own face pale as chalk. She took a deep, ragged breath.

“You secured a donor heart, didn’t you? Carl, that heart… it’s actually—”

“Don’t tell me,” Carl cut in, his voice thick with mockery. “You’re going to claim you have a heart condition too? That you need a transplant, just like Pamela? Olivia, do you really think I’d fall for such a cheap trick?”

Pamela nestled closer against his chest. “It’s true, Olivia. What are the odds? Carl just secured the heart for me last night, and here you are today… Still bitter that I have him now? Trying to get back at me? But you were the one who betrayed him!”

“That’s not true!” Olivia’s control snapped. She pointed a trembling finger at Pamela. “You know it was—”

“Olivia!”

Carl’s voice lashed out again, his eyes filled with undisguised revulsion. “What will it take? What will it take for you to disappear from my life *forever*?”

The fiery anger in Olivia’s chest cooled, hardening into a cold, heavy stone.

She knew it then. He would never give up that heart.

“Money,” she said, meeting his gaze squarely, enunciating each word. “I want money.”

A cold laugh escaped him. “Greedy to the core. A million wasn’t enough to buy your silence?”

“It’s not enough, Carl. A million isn’t enough!” Her voice broke. “Four years. From sixteen to twenty. I suffered with you through all of it. How could a million ever be enough?”

She steadied herself. “Give me another million. This time, I promise you. I will vanish. Permanently.”

Then, with bitter clarity: “Two million, for a lifetime of peace. For you, Mr. Carl, that’s just a drop in the bucket, isn’t it?”

For a fleeting moment, she thought she saw something shift in his eyes—a faint light flickering out.

A crack of thunder split the sky. The bright afternoon plunged into gloom.

Carl’s voice, colder than the coming rain, cut through the air.

“I’ll give you the money.”

“But today, you laid a hand on my fiancée. You will get on your knees. And you will apologize to her.”

Olivia agreed without hesitation.

“Fine.”

Then she knelt. The impact of her knees on the hard ground was a dull, heavy thud.

Pamela’s lips curled into a sneer.

“Olivia. Dignity and self-respect really mean nothing to you, do they?”

“As long as I get the money, dignity means nothing. You taught me that, Pamela. Or have you forgotten?”

Pamela’s face blanched. “You—! You’re lying! I never said any such thing!”

Ignoring her, Olivia looked up at Carl.

“I’m kneeling. Is this enough?”

Carl tightened his arm around Pamela’s waist, his face an emotionless mask as he began to walk past her. “Of course not. If you want the money, you stay right there. On your knees.”

“For how long?” Olivia called after him.

He paused, glancing back over his shoulder. His eyes were utterly devoid of warmth.

“Until I’m satisfied.”

They disappeared into the gleaming tower, leaving Olivia alone on the rain-darkened pavement.

The first fat drops hit her face. Then the sky opened up, the rain falling in a relentless, drenching curtain.

Pedestrians hurried past under umbrellas, their glances—curious, pitying, scornful—flickering over her hunched form.

She knelt there, her slender frame trembling violently in the biting wind, her face so pale she seemed ready to collapse at any second. She slumped over more than once, only to force herself upright again each time.

She wanted to live.

Even if it meant grinding her dignity into dust, she wanted to live.

Now, her only gamble was on the faint, fading chance of Carl’s mercy.

Finally, after an eternity, the rain stopped pelting her head. A black umbrella shielded her.

Wiping the water from her eyes, she looked up.

Carl stood before her, his jaw clenched tight. “How much? Just tell me—how much money will it take for you to stop degrading yourself like this?!”

The shattered heartache in his eyes burned through her, so intense she almost blurted out everything: the desperation, the truth.

She didn’t.

The coppery taste of blood where she’d bitten her tongue forced her mind back into focus.

“What’s wrong, Carl?” she asked, her voice unnaturally light. “Feeling sorry for me?”

“If you want me to stop, it’s simple. Just promise to take care of me. For the rest of my life.”

Carl’s eyes reddened. His breathing grew ragged, fury and agony warring in his gaze.

Suddenly, he flung the umbrella aside. His hand shot out, closing around her throat with bruising force.

“Olivia,” he ground out, his voice raw. “Do you even have a heart?”

“Five years! Have you felt even a shred of remorse for what you did? And you dare… you dare to put a price on what we had?”

Olivia started to laugh, the sound bubbling up hysterically, tears mingling with the rain on her face.

“I knew you hadn’t forgotten me. You want my affection? Fine. Same deal, Carl. Show me the money, and I’m yours. Your mistress. Your dirty secret.”

The pressure on her throat increased. He looked like he wanted to squeeze the life out of her right there.

“Loving you,” he choked out, “was the biggest mistake of my life.”

Olivia didn’t answer. She closed her eyes, her heart turning to ash within her.

She was grateful for the storm. It hid her tears. It hid… the love for him that had never, not for a single day, truly died.

“Stop! What are you doing?!”

Carol’s terrified scream cut through the downpour. She rushed forward, beating her fists against Carl’s arm. “Let her go! You’ll kill her!”

“You only see her asking for money! Do you have any idea why she needs it?!” Carol’s voice cracked with urgency. “She’s sick! If she doesn’t get a heart transplant within a month, she’ll die!”

She glared at him, tears streaking her face. “The first million would have been enough! But you took the heart that was meant to save her! *You* are the one who pushed her to this!”