Everything Is a Lie

That was the first time I had blown up on her.

"No. I will never give up on this child, our child, no matter what you say. I don't care if you're going to leave me to raise the baby alone after you've given birth to him. I will never abandon him!"

Alas, Jessica insisted on going to the hospital for an abortion.

I cried and begged her not to, but I tumbled down the stairs during our argument. When I woke up, I was lying in a hospital bed with one leg broken.

The doctor told me that Jessica had already undergone the abortion procedure. She hadn't even stayed through the required observation period before leaving. It seemed that she'd gotten an urgent phone call and prioritized that over her health.

As expected, the only thing she left me was a message saying she had an important overseas business meeting and needed to travel abroad for a few days.

Back then, I genuinely believed that she had some urgent matter so important that she had no choice but to leave despite her condition. I even gave her an out for abandoning me when I was at my lowest.

Only now did I finally understand that she had gone back to her hometown with Christian and the child to pay respects to her ancestors, to tell everyone that he was her rightful husband.

The child in the photograph probably wasn't even hers. Yet, she had easily chosen to give up our baby while placing that child into the family tree.

The moment I pieced everything together, my heart felt as though it were being carved apart, and tears slid silently down my face.

I dazedly made my way back to Tylen City. Instead of going home, I went straight to the immigration office, intending to transfer my identity registration back to Cinea and withdraw the savings I had accumulated through years of work.

However, the clerk looked up at me suspiciously when I entered my information.

"Mr. Thomson, this Tylen ID card you have is fake. Your registered identity has always been tied to a Cinea ID. Also, you've only been staying here on a tourist visa all these years. As for this bank card, the account holder isn't you, but a man named Christian.

"In other words, you'll need his authorization if you want to withdraw any money."

In that split second, my mind went completely blank.

On my very first day in Tylen, Jessica had personally handed me this ID card. She told me she had arranged long-term residency for me so I wouldn't have to worry about visas anymore.

I had never once doubted her.

As for the bank card, the finance department had given it to me as my payroll card during my second month at the music studio.

I had always lived frugally, wanting to save up some sense of security for myself. I thought I wouldn't be left with nothing and nowhere to go if Jessica decided to leave me one day.

Jessica knew better than anyone how much stability this job meant to me, so I didn't know why she would do this to me.

I nearly stumbled as I rushed out of the immigration office, flagging down a taxi straight to the music studio where I had worked for the past five years.

The studio owner was a local middle-aged man called Jason. He had always treated me politely enough.

When I burst into his office, he was organizing a file containing the studio's award-winning works over the years. He had never allowed me to look through them in the past, always saying that artists shouldn't be influenced by outside opinions.

This time, I threw my manners aside and snatched the file straight from his hands.

The moment I saw the name listed under the awards, my breathing stopped.

It was Christian's name.

Every single award-winning piece that I had created over the past five years had been credited to Christian.

At that moment, my legs gave out, and I nearly collapsed.

"Jason, why are my payroll card and competition entries registered under Christian's name? The copyrights to those songs, the honors from those awards… How did they all become Christian's? What exactly were all my years of hard work worth?"

When Jason heard me, he gave an awkward chuckle and deliberately avoided my gaze. "Mr. Thomson, this matter was handled according to Ms. Sullivan's instructions. She said it was for the convenience of management. Mr. Christian is her family, so registering everything under his identity would avoid a lot of trouble and save him the effort of personally creating anything himself."

Confrontation

"We're just a small music studio. There are many things we don't have the power to decide for ourselves. Please don't make things difficult for us."

As I listened to Jason's words, the very last trace of hope in my heart shattered completely.

Jessica had been using me from the very beginning.

She had turned everything that belonged to me into stepping stones for Christian, while I had been moved by her supposed devotion and making excuses for why she kept postponing marriage like a fool.

Now that I had connected all the dots, I practically rocketed out of the studio.

There was only one thought in my mind. I wanted answers from the woman herself.

…

By the time I arrived at the company, I ignored the secretary's alarmed attempts to stop me and charged straight toward the CEO's office.

"Mommy, I want ice cream!"

A child's voice made my footsteps come to an abrupt halt.

Inside the office, Jessica sat in the chair with a little boy cradled in her arms. Christian, who was dressed in a tailored designer suit, stood beside her with one arm affectionately around her shoulders.

Judging by the tilt of his head and the smile on his lips, he was speaking to her in a low, intimate voice.

Even though I had already learned of the child's existence, seeing him in person still struck me so hard that my chest tightened with unbearable pain.

Christian noticed me first.

His expression stiffened instantly. He hurriedly rose from the sofa, causing the child in his arms to wobble unsteadily.

Jessica sensed something was amiss, so she turned.

When she saw me, surprise flashed through her eyes before she instinctively stepped in front of Christian and the child protectively. "Why are you here?"

I tugged at the corner of my lips into a stiff smile, but there was no hiding the despondent look in my eyes. "You're right. I shouldn't have come and interrupted a wonderful family time. It really was unnecessary of me."

When Jessica heard my words, she frowned and snapped in irritation, "Christopher, what are you up to now? Do you have to ruin a perfectly good day?"

Christian quickly stepped forward and grabbed Jessica's arm. "Jessica, don't be angry at Mr. Thomson. He's just misunderstood things. I'll explain it to him."

"I wasn't talking to you." I shot Christian a cold glance.

The gentle look on Christian's face slipped. He even had the audacity to look at me as though I'd pointed a blade at his neck.

The little boy wriggled out of his arms and toddled toward me. Then, he raised his hands and shoved me hard. "Bad guy! Stop bullying my daddy!"

The child was too young to possess much strength.

The moment he pushed me, he lost his own balance and fell onto the floor with a thud. His nose immediately scrunched up as if he were about to cry.

Christian cried out in alarm and rushed over, scooping the child into his arms. When he looked up at me again, he was already on the verge of tears.

"Mr. Thomson, if you're angry, take it out on me. My child is still young. How could you bear to hurt him?"

Jessica strode forward and tightly shielded Christian and the child in her embrace. The look she gave me turned stone cold.

"Christopher, that's enough! How can you argue with a child?"

I stood there motionless, watching the fiercely protective way she guarded them. All I felt was absurdity and heartbreak.

Everyone had ditched Jessica at the curb when the Sullivan Group went bankrupt. Still, Christian, who was her fiancé at the time, had been the first to tear up the engagement, seize their assets, marry someone else, and flee overseas.

He had even joined forces with outsiders to crush the Sullivan Group completely, driving Jessica into despair.

It was I who stayed by her side.

I gave up my future, left my home, and followed her across the ocean to Tylen when she had nothing. I lived with her in a basement apartment, surviving on instant noodles soaked in cold water.

I handed over all my savings to her and stayed by her side as she slowly rebuilt everything from the ground up.

However, I now understood that all those years of companionship could never compare to her childhood sweetheart.

At that moment, every question I had wanted to ask suddenly felt ridiculous.

I slapped the payroll card down in front of Jessica. "Fine. Since you are so kind-hearted, I won't stop you from taking care of them."

Being Taken Away

"Give me back all the income from the works I created at the music studio over these years. From now on, we owe each other nothing."

Jessica froze for a moment before her expression darkened even further.

"It's only a bit of money. As long as you stay with me, you'll never have to worry about such things for the rest of your life. Why are you making such a big deal out of this? Christian has a child to raise. It hasn't been easy for him.

"Just treat it as taking pity on him and stop obsessing over this matter." As she spoke, she pulled a checkbook from the drawer and tore out a blank check. "Write whatever amount you want yourself. Just stop causing trouble for me."

"I don't want your charity." I refused to take the check. "I only want what belongs to me. My copyrights and the honors I earned from those awards, I want all of it back."

Jessica looked at me with a sinister gaze.

"How dare you! Don't forget that I was the one who gave you food and shelter. Right now, half the business industry in Tylen City answers to me. If you insist on tearing things apart, don't blame me for forgetting our past."

At that moment, my entire body stiffened, and my heart finally turned cold.

I had witnessed her ruthless methods countless times in the business industry before, but I had never imagined that one day she would use that same cruelty against me.

…

Just as the tension in the room reached its breaking point, Christian suddenly let out a startled cry, "Jessica, something's wrong! Our baby's asthma is acting up!"

In that split second, Jessica's face changed instantly.

I was no longer at the forefront of her mind. Instead, she hastily scooped the child into her arms and rushed outside.

When she passed by me, she even hollered for security.

"Throw this lunatic out. Don't let him set foot inside the company ever again."

I stood frozen in place as I watched them disappear into the distance, feeling as though every ounce of strength had been drained from my body.

Now that I was thrown out onto the roadside, I couldn't help but look at the city I had lived in for five years with hollow eyes. Suddenly, the familiar streets looked like yawning monsters instead.

Only one thought remained in my mind, and that was to leave this place as soon as I could.

…

Then, I returned to the house I had shared with Jessica for five years and quickly packed my belongings, carefully placing my parents' keepsakes at the very bottom of my suitcase before pulling it toward the door.

The moment I opened it, two police officers were standing outside.

"Don't move! Who are you, and what are you doing here?"

I froze.

"My name is Christopher Thomson, and I've lived in this house for five years. I'm just packing my things and leaving."

The officers pulled out a copy of the property ownership documents and placed it in front of me.

"The registered owner of this house is Christian Wyven. He personally reported that you entered his property without permission and attempted to remove valuable items. Please cooperate with our investigation and come with us."

My mind went blank.

I had never imagined that even the house I'd lived in for five years belonged to Christian.

I wondered how many things Jessica had hidden from me.

It didn't matter how hard I tried to plead my case; the officers insisted on treating me like a thief and taking me away.

During the struggle, my suitcase fell to the ground. It had burst open after being dragged roughly across the floor, scattering everything inside. My parents' photograph crashed onto the ground, and the glass shattered everywhere, scratching the photo beyond recognition.

Even the bracelet my mother had never once taken off fell and snapped cleanly into two pieces.

"That's mine!"

I tried to bend down to pick it up, but the officers restrained me.

"Don't move. All of these items are considered stolen property until the matter is clarified. You're coming with us!"

I had no way to defend myself.

Once we got to the precinct, the officers followed standard procedure and took my statement. Afterward, they called Jessica to verify my identity.

"Ms. Jessica? This is the local police department. We currently have a man named Christopher Thomson here who is suspected of stealing items from property belonging to Christian Wyven. We'd like to verify his identity with you, as well as clarify the relevant circumstances."