The moment my words fell, the air in the entire lounge froze.

“Roger, have you completely lost your mind?” Albert was the first to react. He stepped in front of Betty, his handsome face twisted with rage. “What gives you the right to say that? You’re nothing but a worthless piece of trash kicked out of Roger's Group. You’re only here today because of Betty—and you dare insult Betty’s Family Group?”

Betty’s face went deathly pale. She stared at me, eyes wide with disbelief, already rimmed with red. “Roger, how could you say that? Have you forgotten everything I’ve done for you? For you, I endured the pressure to cancel the marriage alliance with Stellar Group. I chose you—a man with nothing!”

“With nothing?” I laughed, the sound tearing from my chest. “Betty, search your conscience. Ask yourself: back then, did you really choose me because I had ‘nothing’—or because I bear the surname ‘Roger,’ the rightful second son of Roger’s Group?”

Her lips trembled. No words came.

Yes. Even cast out, my father Brian is a man who values face above all. As long as I remained his son, Betty’s Family Group could leverage my name to secure countless advantages in Riverbend’s business circles. That calculation—the shrewd members of the Betty family understood it better than anyone.

“Enough!” Rebecca shrieked. “Roger, don’t be ungrateful! Betty choosing you was your good fortune! Apologize to Albert right now, then go up on stage and smooth things over! Otherwise, Betty’s Family Group will make you pay!”

Apologize?

I looked at Albert’s hypocritical face, at the glaring boutonniere pinned to his lapel. A fury suppressed for over three years, mixed with endless humiliation, surged straight to the crown of my head.

I didn’t speak. I simply turned, pulled a pair of eyebrow scissors from the tool jar on the nearby vanity.

The sharp metal tip gleamed coldly under the lights.

“What are you doing?” Albert’s face changed. He took an instinctive step back.

I walked toward him, step by step, my eyes cold enough to devour a man.

“You like to make bets, don’t you?” I stared into his eyes, my voice hoarse. “I’ll make one more with you. I bet I have the guts to cripple you today.”

Fear finally crept onto his perpetually calm face.

“Madman! You’re a madman!” he blustered, turning to flee.

He was fast—but I was faster.

The moment he turned, I lunged, pinning him hard against the vanity. Without hesitation, I drove the scissors toward his arm.

“Ah!”

Albert’s piercing scream ripped through the room. Blood instantly bloomed across his expensive white shirt.

Betty and Rebecca shrieked, their cries nearly lifting the roof.

I seemed oblivious to everything. My mind held only one thought: destroy him. Destroy this pair of snakes.

In the end, security guards rushed in and subdued me.

The scissors clattered to the floor. With that sound, my sanity returned.

Looking at the wreckage, at Albert’s mangled, bloody arm, I felt a wave of dizziness.

The police arrived quickly.

I was taken away in a patrol car, charged with intentional assault.

In the interrogation room, I sat alone for a long time.

The cold metal chair gradually cooled my anger-heated mind. I thought of my mother.

She had jumped from the rooftop of the Roger family villa on a rainy night.

Everyone said it was depression. Only I knew it was despair.

Despair at my father’s indifference. Despair at that woman’s relentless pressure.

After my mother’s death, I became an extra person in the Roger household.

My father soon married that woman. My older brother Michael saw me as a thorn in his side.

Then Betty entered my world like a beam of light.

She said she would stay with me forever.

I believed her. I made her the sole pillar keeping me alive.

For her, I gave up my inheritance rights to Roger’s Group, left with nothing but the clothes on my back, and started from scratch.

I thought I had found a harbor where I could finally dock. I never imagined it was a deeper abyss.

The interrogation room door opened.

It wasn’t a police officer. It was Betty.

Her eyes were red, tear tracks still visible on her cheeks—a picture of pitiful fragility.

“Roger,” she walked up to me, her voice choked. “You severed tendons in Albert’s arm. The doctor says it might affect his ability to do delicate work in the future. He… he’s a world-class chip designer.”

I looked at her. Silent.

“I know you were wronged today,” she softened, reaching for my hand, cuffed to the table. “But you were too impulsive. Only you can save him now. Only you can save yourself.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Albert said if you’re willing to go to the hospital, kneel and apologize to him publicly, and swear—swear on your mother’s soul in heaven—that you’ll never trouble us again, then he’ll sign a letter of understanding. He won’t press charges.”

Swear on my mother’s soul in heaven.

*Boom.* The last thread in my mind named reason snapped completely.

I stood up violently. The handcuffs slammed against the table with a deafening crash.

Betty took an involuntary step back, startled by my stare.

“Betty,” I said, word by word, my voice squeezed from between clenched teeth. “Say that again.”

My expression frightened her. Her lips trembled, but she forced herself to continue. “This… this is Albert’s demand! You hurt someone, you have to pay the price! What’s wrong with an apology? Your mother’s been dead for years. What does mentioning her matter?”

What does mentioning her matter?

Looking at this face that once enchanted me—that I was once willing to die for—I felt a bone-deep nausea for the first time.

I laughed. I laughed until tears streamed down my face.

“Fine. ‘What does mentioning her matter?’ What a line.” I nodded, stripping away all expression, leaving only numb calm. “Tell Albert I accept his terms.”

I was released on bail.

Stumbling out of the police station, I found the world had already gone dark. Betty hadn’t waited. She was already at the hospital, “caring for” her beloved Albert.

Alone, I walked the empty street—a ghost haunting his own life.

From my pocket, my phone buzzed. A message from my older brother, Michael. Short and to the point: *Dad wants you home tomorrow.*

Home? I hadn’t set foot in that place for nearly three years.

I didn’t reply. Instead, I turned into a pitch-black alley.

I’d taken only a few steps when rapid footsteps closed in from behind. Before I could turn, something heavy cracked against the back of my skull—and consciousness vanished.

***

I woke in a private hospital room. The sharp sting of antiseptic hit me first, making me grimace.

A doctor in a white coat entered. Seeing me awake, a flicker of surprise crossed his face. “Mr. Roger, you’re awake. How do you feel?”

“Did you save me?” I tried to sit up, but a wave of pain shot through my body.

“Miss Kimberly brought you here,” the doctor said, helping me adjust. “You were attacked. Mild concussion, multiple soft-tissue contusions. Nothing vital, thankfully. Miss Kimberly has handled everything, including the police report.”

*Kimberly.*

The name flowed through me like a warm current, seeping into a heart long frozen.

After finishing his checks, the doctor left. I was alone again, lying there, staring blankly at the ceiling.

Time lost all meaning. Eventually, the door cracked open. Two nurses peeked in. Seeing my eyes closed, they assumed I was asleep and began whispering as they changed an IV bag.

“Poor guy, right? He’s the fiancé of that Betty in the private suite next door?”

“Tell me about it! I heard the bride ran off with her assistant at the wedding today. He snapped, stabbed the guy, got out of jail, and then got jumped. What a mess.”

“Serves him right, if you ask me. How stupid can you be? I overheard Dr. Rowan from Cardiology yesterday—he let it slip. That ‘car accident’ Betty had three years ago? Total scam. Her kidneys were fine. It was all a setup to trick him into donating one. Apparently, he was too healthy. She wanted to weaken him first, make him easier to control.”

“Oh my god, seriously? That’s evil.”

“Who knows? The things that go on in these rich families… it’s all dirty. And that’s not even the worst of it.”

“What?”

“His mother’s suicide… the jump from the balcony? Word is Betty had a hand in that, too. Tampered with her meds, made her depression worse, deliberately provoked her. All to get her out of the way faster. So she could become his sole emotional anchor, have him completely in her grip.”

“No way… that’s murder. That’s terrifying.”

Their voices faded into murmurs I could no longer make out.

But those few sentences were enough. They were branding irons, white-hot, searing themselves permanently onto my heart.

*My kidney… stolen by her.*

*My mother… killed by her.*

The light I’d clung to for life, the one I thought was my salvation… was a meticulously crafted lie from the very beginning.

She hadn’t come to save me. She’d come to drag me into a deeper hell.

I lay perfectly still on the bed. Inside, the dam broke. Tears flooded out—a silent, violent torrent. I didn’t make a sound. I just bit down on my lip until I tasted blood.

That metallic tang, sharp and coppery, was the only thing keeping me tethered, holding the last shred of my sanity together.

Hate.

A tidal wave of it, like fast-growing vines, wrapped around my heart, squeezing, choking the air from my lungs.

With shaking hands, I pulled out my phone and dialed Kimberly’s number.

She answered on the first ring.

“Roger? You’re awake? How are you feeling?” Concern laced her voice.

I took a deep, shuddering breath, forcing every tremor, every sob, down into the pit of my stomach. When I spoke, my voice was the sound of ice cracking over a frozen lake. Ancient. Implacable.

“Kimberly.”

“Yes?”

“I want Betty’s family wiped from the map of Riverbend.”

Silence stretched on the other end of the line—long enough for me to think she’d refuse this insane demand.

Then her voice returned. Clear. Unwavering. A promise forged in steel.

“Alright. You decide how they disappear. That’s exactly how it will happen.”

The next day, seismic tremors rocked Riverbend's business community.

Without warning, Kimberly's multinational conglomerate, Genesis Capital, announced a comprehensive assault on every one of Betty's Family Group's operations.

The news sent the Betty family's stock into a nosedive, erasing nearly three billion in market value before the closing bell.

Every company with an eye on partnering with the Betty family chose to wait and see; those with existing contracts began scrambling for excuses to tear them up.

The Betty family was in chaos.

I watched it all unfold from my hospital bed, the financial news flashing across the screen.

Beside me, Kimberly peeled an apple with serene detachment. "Consider this just the appetizer," she said. "The Betty family's foundation was hollowed out long ago. They're a rotten shell now. One good shove, and the whole structure comes down. Within a month, there will be no Betty family left in Riverbend."

Her tone was as casual as if she were discussing the weather, yet the absolute confidence in her control of the situation filled me with a profound sense of security.

"Thank you, Kimberly," I said, and meant it.

She handed me the peeled apple. My own reflection was clear in her cool eyes. "Don't thank me. I'm just helping you take back what was always yours."

I was about to say more when the hospital room door burst open violently.

Betty stormed in like a whirlwind. She looked haggard—hair a mess, eyes bloodshot—a far cry from the untouchable goddess she pretended to be.

"Roger!" She rushed to my bedside, grabbing my arm, her voice a hysterical shriek. "It was you, wasn't it? You told Kimberly to destroy my family! How could you be so heartless? Were all those years between us just a lie?"

I watched her coldly, not pulling my arm away, letting her nails dig into my skin.

"Feelings?" I echoed. "Betty, are you even qualified to talk to me about feelings? Did you think of feelings when you tricked me out of a kidney? Or when you killed my mother?"

My words hit like a knockout punch.

All the color drained from her face. She swayed, staring at me in disbelief, her lips trembling. "You... how could you know..."

"What's done in the dark always comes to light."

Kimberly, silent until now, stood up. She stepped in front of me, shielding me, and looked down at Betty with ice-cold eyes. "Miss Betty, I suggest you leave. Now. Otherwise, I can't guarantee my security won't throw you out the window."

"Kimberly! You bitch!" Betty, provoked beyond reason, lunged at her like a madwoman. "This is all you! You seduced Roger! You ruined everything!"

Kimberly sidestepped neatly and delivered a stinging slap across Betty's face.

*Smack!*

The sound cracked through the sterile room.

Betty stumbled from the force, collapsing to the floor. Clutching her cheek, she looked utterly stunned.

"That slap," Kimberly said, shaking out her hand, her voice frosty, "was for Roger. The game has only just begun, Betty. Enjoy the ride."

Looking utterly broken, Betty was hauled away by security who had arrived at the commotion.

Silence settled back over the room.

Kimberly returned to the seat beside me. Noticing the red marks Betty's nails had left on my arm, her brow furrowed slightly. She took a tube of ointment from the bedside table and began applying it in silence.

Her movements were gentle, almost careful.

Watching her focused profile, a tumult of emotions churned inside me.

Kimberly and I had been engaged once.

It was arranged by my mother when she was still alive.

But back then, my heart and eyes held only Betty. I'd resented that business-alliance marriage with every fiber of my being.

At the engagement party, I’d even publicly humiliated Kimberly and her family, calling off the engagement on the spot to run after Betty.

Yet she never blamed me.

Three years ago, when I was at my lowest—kicked out of my own family's company—she found me. "Roger," she’d said, "if you just say the word, I'll marry you anytime."

I refused.

I took Betty and left for another city, determined to prove my choice had been right.

I couldn't have been more wrong.

"Kimberly," I said, my throat tight. "I'm sorry."

That apology was years too late.

Her hand, applying the ointment, paused for a fraction of a second before resuming. She didn't look at me, her voice quiet. "Let's not talk about the past. We have to look forward now."

The more detached and unbothered she seemed, the heavier the guilt weighed on me.

Just then, another knock sounded at the door.

This time, two police officers entered.

"Mr. Roger," the lead officer said in an official tone. "Regarding the assault case from the night before last, we've apprehended the suspects. They've confessed they were hired."

My heart jumped. "By who?"

"Albert."