Mila's face darkened instantly. The air turned heavy, charged with her fury.

Finn Mason froze, eyes wide with genuine shock. Clearly, he had no idea about our arrangement—that Mila paid me a salary to play her devoted admirer.

Her glare could have drawn blood.

I didn't flinch. I kept my expression pleasant and detached—the perfect mask of a contract employee finishing his shift.

"Liam," she hissed through gritted teeth. "Do you have any idea how many men are desperate for my attention? How many would kill to take your place?"

She stepped closer, voice dripping with disdain. "That contract? The monthly payments? That was charity. You should feel honored I let you breathe the same air as me."

Her eyes narrowed. "Even without a cent, standing by my side is the greatest privilege of your pathetic life. Yet here you are, talking about money?" She scoffed. "You've disappointed me, Liam."

She pointed at the door. "Get out. I never want to see your face again."

Her chest heaved with indignation. In her twisted logic, money was irrelevant—I was supposed to be captivated by her charm, a slave to her beauty, not a contractor demanding a final invoice in front of her new toy.

I met her murderous glare calmly. Forget it.

She had been prompt with payments for three years. I could write off this last month as a parting gift.

We were done. No debts, no ties.

I had saved enough for the orphanage and the elderly neighbors' medical bills. Greed had no place here.

I offered her one last polite nod. "Understood, Ms. Pruitt. I wish you wealth and health in the future. Goodbye."

I turned and walked away without waiting for a dismissal.

As I crossed the threshold, a flicker of panic cracked Mila's icy facade. She stepped forward, hand reaching out as if to stop me.

She likely didn't understand her own reaction. To her, I was just a paid admirer, a jester for her amusement. Yet three years of constant presence had etched me into her life deeper than she realized.

My sudden departure left a vacuum—a suffocating emptiness she hadn't anticipated.

Just as her lips parted to call me back, Finn scrambled up from the floor. He moved close, voice dripping with false sympathy. "Good riddance to that ungrateful dog."

He placed a hand on her shoulder. "Don't be upset, Mila. I'm here now. I'll take care of you a thousand times better than he ever could."

Mila seemed dazed. She ignored Finn's intense stare, her eyes still fixed on the empty doorway where I had disappeared.

A flash of pure malice darkened Finn's eyes, but it vanished instantly, replaced by his mask of gentle concern.

By noon, the internet was ablaze with rumors about me.

Paid trolls flooded the forums, branding me a soulless gigolo who preyed on wealthy women. The stories were elaborate—claiming I scammed heiresses to fund a lavish lifestyle and manipulated their emotions for cash.

The harassment wasn't just digital.

Vandals tracked down my rental apartment, splashing red paint and filth across my front door.

Through it all, I remained silent.

When I sold my dignity to become Mila Pruitt's lapdog, I knew what I was signing up for. The cold shoulders, the disdain, the looks of absolute disgust—I'd mentally prepared for all of it.

The online witch hunt had Finn Mason's fingerprints all over it.

I didn't have the energy to waste on him. Once I finished my final arrangements, I was leaving this city. And I wasn't planning on coming back.

Over the next few days, Mila's number kept flashing on my screen.

When I finally answered, her tone was the same as always—imperious, demanding. She wanted her emotional punching bag back. She wanted me at her feet, soothing her ego just like before.

Service without the paycheck?

Not a chance.

I blocked her number and deleted the contact.

Word was that Mila had been spiraling at the office, throwing tantrums and publicly dressing down Finn. I wondered if he could handle her twisted temperament.

Not that it mattered to me anymore.

On the fifth day of the online crusade, Finn and Mila showed up at the urban village. They found my rental.

Red paint splattered the walls of the dilapidated building. Insults scrawled in jagged letters screamed my name.

Finn smirked. "I heard Liam hasn't been back for days. Who knows where he's hiding? A gigolo living off women tends to make enemies. He's probably already latched onto his next sugar mommy."

Mila stared at the crumbling facade, her expression unreadable. "He lived here? The whole time?"

She murmured, "I gave him a fortune. Why didn't he take better care of himself?"

Sensing her pity, Finn's expression darkened. A flash of malice crossed his eyes before he masked it with concern. "Don't be fooled, Mila. I've seen the posts. Liam frequents high-end clubs with different girls. That kind of lifestyle burns through cash fast. The money you gave him is long gone."

He shook his head theatrically. "Thank god you woke up and kicked him out. Otherwise, that leech would still be clinging to you. Rumor has it he knocked up a few girls and ghosted them. They're out for blood."

As he spoke, Finn signaled to a spot nearby.

On cue, a group of women with caked-on makeup marched over, carrying paint buckets and shouting obscenities. They reached my door and splashed fresh paint against the wood.

"Liam Gilbert, you scumbag! I was blind to trust you!"

"You promised to marry me! You stole my savings and vanished!"

"I know you're in there! I'm pregnant! Take responsibility!"

"Open the door! Stop playing dead!"

As the women screamed and cursed, Mila frowned, her face twisting in distaste.

Finn shot the women an encouraging look. Emboldened, they screamed louder, hurling the filthiest curses at my door.

Mila sighed, disappointment etched into her features. She turned and walked away.

Finn Mason watched Mila's despair deepen, his grin widening. He could see it in her eyes—she had finally, completely given up on Liam Gilbert.

Just as he opened his mouth to twist the knife further, a roar erupted from the alleyway.

A crowd surged out of the urban village like a tidal wave. Men, women, elderly, young—they stormed onto the street and encircled the painted women Finn had hired.

These were the village residents. And they were furious.

The accusers flinched at the sudden hostility but remembered their script. "We're looking for Liam Gilbert, that heartless bastard!"

"He got me pregnant and abandoned me!" one wailed.

"That liar swindled me out of my savings!" another screamed.

Before they could spew more lies, an elderly woman in a red volunteer armband stepped forward. Mrs. Redband's presence was commanding, her eyes blazing with righteous fire.

"Grab these liars!" she ordered. "They're slandering Liam. Drag them to the police station!"

The women tried to struggle, but the neighborhood matrons were faster and fiercer. Sharp slaps silenced the protests instantly. Within seconds, the accusers were cowed and trembling.

Finn's blood ran cold.

He had brought these women here. If they were interrogated, they would crack. They would confess he hired them. He would be finished.

"Hey!" He feigned outrage. "This is lawless! These are victims! Liam cheated them—just because you're his neighbors doesn't mean you can cover up his crimes!"

Ptoo!

Mrs. Redband spat directly in his face.

"Biased?" Her voice shook with rage. "We know exactly what kind of man Liam is. Better than you ever could!"

She stepped closer, forcing Finn to recoil.

"That boy was lonely and helpless since childhood. The community raised him. We fed him." She pointed a trembling finger at the village behind her. "And for the last three years, every cent he earned was spent on us. He built the kindergarten. He built the orphanage. When us old folks got sick, it was Liam's money that paid for our surgeries!"

Agreement rippled through the crowd.

"Those people smearing his name online? Black-hearted beasts." Mrs. Redband spat again. "Liam never went drinking. Never chased women. Lived like a monk—didn't even date! His only goal was to keep this village alive."

Finn's face turned gray. His carefully constructed narrative was crumbling.

Mila took a shaky step forward. Her voice was barely a whisper. "Ma'am... is that true? Everything you said?"

Mrs. Redband scoffed. "Of course it's true. Ask anyone here. Who hasn't received Liam's kindness?"

She softened slightly, shaking her head. "That child has suffered so much. If anyone showed him even an ounce of kindness, he'd dig out his own heart for them. The people slandering him are just jealous rats who can't stand the light."

Mila's eyes rimmed red. "Where is he now?"

Mrs. Redband straightened with pride. "Liam has great abilities now. He went out of town with his boss to make a fortune! His boss is a formidable big shot—pays him very generously."

She smiled warmly, oblivious to the devastation her next words would cause.

"Liam always tells us how wonderful his boss is. He says she treats him very well. Kind and fair..."

Mila buried her face in her hands and broke down.