The one I've loved for ten years hates me to his core. He comes up with various ways to hurt and belittle me. He even deliberately lets me hear him having a steamy night with someone else.

"You're the unsightly blemish that marred my otherwise perfect life," he says.

The thing that he regrets the most in his entire life is getting to know me.

In the end, I die. However, he regrets it dearly.

Sounds of intense arguing pulled my consciousness out of the haze bit by bit.

The next second, I saw Hadrian Sinclair.

"Hadrian, you're finally willing to see me! You believe me, don't you?" I exclaimed.

Excited, I rushed toward him, only to pass straight through his body.

As my memories slowly returned, I remembered with a jolt that I was already dead.

Percy Lawson's voice interrupted my thoughts. "Mr. Sinclair, Scotty has been missing for more than half a month, I…"

"Get out. I told you his business has nothing to do with me. Just hearing his name disgusts me," Hadrian spat out.

The loathing in his voice was unmistakable. It seemed as if even the sound of my name would dirty his ears.

These days, I had heard far too many cold, cutting words from his mouth. I instinctively clutched my chest, but the familiar ache didn't come.

Oh, right. I was dead. It turned out there was no more pain after death.

"Mr. Sinclair, aren't you even a little worried about him?"

Percy finally lost his temper after hearing Hadrian's words.

This man, who always smiled and played the peacemaker, was getting into a heated argument with Hadrian for my sake.

Hadrian's hand, which was holding a pen, paused. He lifted his head and looked at Percy.

"Worried?"

He gave a brief laugh, and the tone of his voice became even more icy. "Why would I worry about that piece of trash? Whether he's missing or dead, it has nothing to do with me."

"You—"

"Why are you so worked up? Don't tell me… you're one of his bedwarmers too?"

Percy stared at Hadrian in disbelief. The muscles in his face twitched as fury overtook him.

He slammed his palm hard on the desk and bellowed, "You'll regret this, Hadrian!"

Hadrian picked up the phone on his desk. "Send security in."

The office door opened the next moment. Several security guards rushed in and dragged the furious Percy away.

Hadrian sat behind his desk with his fingers interlaced as he watched Percy struggle with icy detachment.

He said, "The thing I regret the most is ever being with him. He's the blemish in my otherwise perfect life."

A blemish?

I smiled bitterly. We had been together for ten years, yet what he thought of me could be reduced to one single word—a blemish.

"Hadrian, you son of a—"

Percy's furious curse was cut off as he was hauled out of the room.

Worried he might get hurt, I tried to follow him. However, I found I couldn't leave Hadrian's side.

"Hadrian, don't hurt Percy!" I shouted in panic.

But Hadrian couldn't hear me, so of course he didn't respond.

He opened a drawer and took out a photo frame. It was a picture of us. In the photo, we were wearing our high school uniforms, smiling as brightly as the sun on a summer sky.

Back then, he'd kept that frame in the most prominent spot on his desk. Whenever anyone asked, he would proudly say, "This is Scotty, the person I love the most."

He never feared other people's judgmental gazes and never hid his love for me. But after that incident, he had put our photo away.

As I looked at the picture, the dying spark in my heart was reignited once more. "Hadrian, you kept this photo around. You still love me, don't you? You…"

Before I could finish, Hadrian let out a cold, mocking laugh and tossed the frame into the trash.

He sneered, "Scott Sterling, you think you can fool me by pulling a disappearing act? Even if you're dead, it's nothing but your own damn fault!"

The shattered glass scratched across the photo, as if wiping out our youth along with it. I stared at the ruined picture, feeling nothing but endless desolation.

I thought in dismay, "I'm not pretending to be missing, Hadrian. I really am dead. Do you hate me so much that you wish me dead? Well, you got your wish."

Hadrian and I were classmates in high school. He had excellent grades, while I was always at the bottom of the class. It wasn't because I was stupid, though. I simply had no time to study.

My dad, Aaron Sterling, was a drunk. My mom, unable to endure poverty and domestic violence, left us after giving birth to my younger sister, Christine Sterling.

From the time I entered middle school, I had to pay my own tuition and buy baby food for Christine. I took on every job I could find and anything that paid me. As long as there was money involved, I did it.

Hadrian and I had little to do with each other in and out of school until the night he saw me serving drinks at a private club.

That evening, Hadrian was there to negotiate a business deal on behalf of his dad, Enrique Sinclair, who had been called away at the last minute. He had only been a teenager then, and though his face was youthful, it already carried an air of understated authority.

When Hadrian spotted me, he froze for a moment. He didn't say much and ordered a few bottles of expensive liquor.

I shot him a grateful look. Those few bottles earned me enough money to sustain Christine and my living expenses for a month.

Hadrian didn't drink. He just sat there quietly and kept his clients company.

But one of Enrique's business partners drank too much and staggered over, reeking of alcohol. He grabbed me by the waist and tried to kiss me.

Terrified, I dodged and said, "I'm sorry, sir. I only pour drinks."

"Well, you came here to work, didn't you? Stop pretending. Kiss me, and I'll give you ten thousand dollars!" the man insisted, his putrid breath making my stomach churn.

I'd had enough and was about to fight back when Hadrian reacted first. He smashed a bottle over the man's head and dragged me out of the club without a second thought.

Unsurprisingly, that business deal fell through, for him and for me.

The next day at school, I saw the unmistakable handprint on Hadrian's face.

After class, I bought a chilled bottle of mineral water and approached him. "Why did you help me?"

Hadrian pressed the cold bottle to his cheek and replied, "That's not a place you should be. Don't go back there again."

As I looked into his eyes, the refusal got stuck in my throat. After a while, I murmured, "Okay. I promise."

I quit the high-paying job at the club and started handing out flyers and delivering food. However, I wasn't alone anymore because Hadrian worked alongside me.

This wealthy young scion fought for delivery orders even more fiercely than I did. At the end of the month, he handed me all the money he'd earned.

"I know you won't accept it if I just give it to you. But this is money I earned myself. Take it. From now on, what's mine is yours."

Back then, when I was holding the money, I felt for the first time that I had someone I could depend on.

Before long, Hadrian and I were admitted to the same college. Neither of us confessed to the other. We simply progressed naturally into a relationship.

Two boys being together inevitably attracted gossip, but he didn't care. Every time we went out, he openly held my hand.

To make money, Hadrian began investing and trading stocks. He said he needed to be financially independent because his parents would never accept us, and that he wanted to give me a future free of worries.

Thanks to my looks, I picked up some modeling jobs. Life slowly began to improve. No one blessed our relationship, but we lived happily every day.

At that time, I believed we would stay that way forever.

My life was perfect until Dad, drunk as usual, injured someone and was thrown into jail. Rumors had it that the victim had powerful connections. I was at a loss.

I could have turned my back on Dad, but Christine cried and begged me to help. My heart softened.

Hadrian was abroad with his mentor for a competition that he and his team had prepared for over half a year. I didn't want to distract him or burden him with my family's mess, so I kept it from him and went to face the victim myself.

The man was middle-aged. He sat amid a crowd, watching me like how a butcher would eye a lamb for slaughter.

"Drink all the liquor on this table, and I'll spare your father," he said.

The table was lined with bottles of hard liquor enough for ten men to drink the night away. If I drank it all, my stomach would be ruined.

But I had no choice. Amid the jeers and laughter of the onlookers, I lifted the first glass.

I didn't know how much I drank. When I woke again, I was lying on an unfamiliar and large bed.

"Are you awake?"

I turned toward the voice and saw that it was the middle-aged man.

"What are you trying to do?" I asked warily, trying to sit up, but found myself unable to move.

It was then that I realized the liquor must have been spiked.

He rose slowly and stripped off his clothes as he loomed over me.

"Let me go!"

I struggled with all my strength, but I couldn't make him budge at all.

Panic consumed me, and a despair I'd never known before wrapped itself all over me securely.

"Get away from me, you beast! Let me go!"

I clawed my way toward the edge of the bed, only to have him seize my ankle and drag me back.

I didn't want to give in, but the thought of Hadrian and how devastated he would be if he found out about this made me drop my pride.

I begged, "Please let me go. I'll do anything you want. Please!"

The man laughed at my words. "Anything?"

I nodded frantically.

"You hear that? What are you all standing around for?" he called out to the darkness.

Only then did I realize we weren't alone. There were others in the room. They grinned as they approached me, eyes gleaming like predators closing in on trapped prey.

I kept retreating until I grabbed the bedside lamp. Then, I hurled it with all the strength I could muster.

Someone knocked it aside effortlessly and clamped a hand hard around my throat.

"This kid doesn't know his place," one of them sneered.

"Fine. Let's teach him."

A chill shot up my thighs as someone yanked down my pants.