I followed her around like a pathetic, groveling dog.

Gave up my career overseas for her.

Poured her tea, fetched her water, did whatever she needed.

All so I could hear her say those words: I do.

She'd said them, once.

“Jack, I see everything you do for me. From now on, we're family. No one gets to bully you.”

But I didn't love her anymore. And without love, there was no reason left to swallow any of it.

I ignored them both, turned away, and called Noah to have my things moved out.

This house. I'd bought it in secret, built to Rebecca's exact taste, five hundred million spent to make it hers.

Since she had no loyalty, she didn't deserve to live in it either.

“Pack your things and get out. Neither of you deserves this house.”

Rebecca and Val doubled over laughing：

“Have you lost your mind? You actually think this house is yours?”

Rebecca reached over and pressed her hand to my forehead：

“Did the fever fry your brain? You really think you could afford this place?”

“Don't forget, this house was Val's reward for winning first place at the international equestrian championship!”

Val's nostrils flared toward the ceiling the moment she finished, like he was the household's biggest hero.

Hero?

Watching them state it with such unshakable certainty, I laughed.

They clearly had no idea who organized that competition in the first place.

I was about to tell them the truth.

Then the servants, who'd been clustering around the commotion, suddenly fell into a neat line and went silent.

Ken Henson and Marcia Henson appeared, flanked by an entourage.

The old man looked me over head to toe, displeasure flashing across his face, then thumped his cane and sat down.

I'd crossed paths with Old Mr. Henson a few times before, but only as passing acquaintances at business functions. Nothing that would leave an impression.

Seeing me looking this wrecked, he had even less chance of recognizing me.

Marcia smiled warmly and asked Rebecca what had happened.

Rebecca faltered, eyes darting, and the lie spilled out before she could think：

“Oh, you know, some thug who had a run-in with Val a while back. Must've lost his mind, because he showed up today to start trouble. We were just about to throw him out.”

Val chimed in right on cue：

“That's right. Just some clueless nobody. We'll have him gone in a minute.”

I was so angry I almost laughed. I opened my mouth to set the record straight, but what Ken said next stopped me cold.

“Becca, I know you look out for Val because you two have been close since you were kids. But you never date anyone. As your father, that doesn't sit right with me.”

Rebecca opened her mouth, then closed it. So that was it. Eight years, and she had never once acknowledged me to her family.

I'd brought it up with her more than once. I wanted a real place in her life.

But she never gave me so much as a chance to visit, never invited me to a single family dinner or gathering.

When I asked why, she gave me the flimsiest excuse imaginable.

“My family's strict. I've always been the obedient daughter. I'd never dare go against my father.”

I believed every word. Promised myself, silently, that I'd love her twice as hard.

Now I could see it for what it was. Just an excuse she made up because she never wanted to claim me.

My fists clenched so tight the knuckles ached, and still none of it made sense.

I graduated top three Ivy League overseas. Height, looks, family background—none of it was lacking. Not a single thing.

What exactly wasn't good enough for Rebecca Henson?

Beside her, Val's gaze on Rebecca deepened, like a man staring at an angel he wanted but could never have.

I saw it clearly. I was about to call them out, expose whatever it was between them, but before I could get a word out—

Val's eyes shifted, and he turned the blade on me：

“Sir, I'll just say it straight—this guy's a creep. He's been all over Becca, won't leave her alone. That's the whole reason she won't date anyone. You think we'd come down on him this hard otherwise?”

The moment those words landed, Ken Henson's expression shifted. He narrowed his eyes and studied me.

“Is this true?”

Before I could get a word out, Val kicked me to the ground.

“Absolutely true. I even have proof he's been stalking and harassing Becca.”

He handed Ken a thick stack of photographs. Every single one showed me and Rebecca mid-argument, caught in moments of conflict, all taken in secret.

None of it was one-sided harassment.

I opened my mouth to protest, but Val flicked a glance at someone nearby, and a filthy rag was shoved hard between my teeth.

Ken's face turned ugly. The veins on his hand bulged as he gripped his cane like he meant to snap it.

I knew his only weakness was Rebecca, his one and only daughter.

She'd come late in his life, and Mrs. Henson's frail health had kept them from having another child.

So they'd spoiled Rebecca into the untouchable creature she was now.

Marcia looked ready to skin me alive, teeth clenched so tight the muscles in her jaw twitched.

“Becca, you tell me right now — is this true? And even if it is, don't you dare be scared. Mom's got your back!”

Rebecca's voice caught. She glanced at me, guilt flickering across her face：

“Mom……it's not really……”

Then she saw Val's brimming, wounded eyes, and the words died in her throat.

Just like that, even a lie became the truth.

Something in Rebecca seemed to surrender. She nodded.

My face was ground into the floor. Rebecca looked away from me, unable to hold my gaze.

Something ripped open inside my chest, a pain so raw I couldn't breathe, couldn't speak. My heart didn't break — it just died.

Ken's face was locked tight, every line carved with the kind of stillness that comes right before a sentence is passed.

“I've always been a fair man. Since there's evidence, I'll give you one chance to explain yourself.”

He tilted his chin, signaling a servant to pull the rag from my mouth.

I gulped air like a drowning man breaking the surface, gasping, wrecked.

Val laughed at the sight. His eyes were pure contempt：

“Look at you. Like a dog dragged out of a gutter.”

I met Ken Henson's razor-sharp gaze and forced my thoughts into order.

I'd heard the rumors. On the surface the Hensons were just a well-off business family — not some empire that could blot out the sun. But they'd clawed their way to where they stood now through means nobody talked about openly.

When I was investing overseas, I'd learned that any industry or

company the Hensons set their sights on would multiply in value several times over.

That kind of track record was built on ruthlessness.

If Ken decided I'd been stalking his daughter, I wouldn't live to see tomorrow's sun.

I clenched my jaw：

“Mr. Henson, Rebecca and I are in a relationship. I have proof!”

I scrambled for my smartphone, the one full of intimate photos of us together.

Every pocket came up empty.

I looked up at Val's smug face and understood. He'd stolen it.

“You……!”

But this wasn't the time to fight him over it. Ken's patience was already more than half gone.

Then I remembered. Rebecca had given me a pendant necklace carved from the Henson family's heirloom sandalwood, even stamped with the vermilion seal of the Hensons' ancestor, a painter famous the world over.

I'd worn it close to my skin ever since she gave it to me. I fumbled for it now：

“The Henson family's heirloom sandalwood necklace — Rebecca gave it to me herself! Doesn't that prove we're together?”

I tore it from my neck, held it up, and then my mind went blank.

This wasn't sandalwood. After years pressed against my skin, the back of the pendant had turned black.

Real heirloom sandalwood doesn't rot.

And the seal—looked at closely—wasn't the Henson ancestral mark at all. It was a fake. Some no-name counterfeit.

Cold sweat broke across my skin. I stared at Rebecca, unable to believe it.

“How is this possible……You told me it was real.”

Rebecca had already shut her eyes completely, choosing not to look at me.

All these years. Her so-called love—just stringing me along, letting me fool myself into thinking she actually cared.

I'd never been worth a single thing to her.

I clenched my teeth until my jaw ached, and the blood in my veins went cold.

The woman I'd loved and protected for eight years had given her heart, completely and without reservation, to another man.

Old Mr. Henson's gaze turned vicious：

“Nothing to say for yourself? Good. Then take your punishment.”

He clapped his hands, and a ring of men in black closed around me.

Fists came down like a storm, slamming into my gut.

I doubled over and coughed up a mouthful of blood.

Val's face twisted into something grotesque with how much he was enjoying it. Only Rebecca turned her back, conflicted.

“Dad, maybe just—he didn't even do anything to me……”

She didn't finish. Val cut in, his voice wounded：

“Becca, did you forget what he did to me? What he did to you? Are you feeling sorry for him now?”

Rebecca shook her head immediately. Then, as if steeling herself, she walked up to me.

She slapped me across the face—once, twice, three times, her palm cracking against my skin until my vision swam and the room tilted sideways.

I thought I caught a flicker of guilt in Rebecca's eyes.

Impossible. I laughed bitterly at my own delusion.

Old Mr. Henson saw that I was barely clinging to consciousness and called off the beating.

“That's enough. We'll leave it here. There's an important guest arriving today. Drag him out, clean him up, and get this place spotless before the visitor shows.”

Rebecca looked confused：

“Dad, who's coming?”

Ken was already barking orders for the finest wines and tonics to be brought out for the guest.

“I told you about this before. At an investors' summit, someone introduced me to a young prodigy. A lot of the people at those gatherings know him. I only ever saw him from behind, but I can tell you he's good-looking.”

“Top-tier education, sharp eye for business. Young as he is, he's already invested in a string of wildly successful projects. Word is he's taken a liking to you and wants to pay us a visit!”

Rebecca's mouth pulled into a frown：

“Just because he likes me, I have to meet him? Besides, I already have someone I like!”

But her eyes didn't turn to me. They went to Val, who stood to the side, silent and seething.

Ken patted her on the head：“Silly girl, you might end up liking him even more. He might not even look twice at you! But if our family locked him down, nobody in this city could touch us!”

Rebecca pouted hard：

“So where is he? What's his name? What does he like? I don't know a single thing about him and you're just inviting him over?”

“The introducer called him Jack, if I remember right. Around your age, too. And you won't believe this, but the gifts he sent ahead for you are already here!”

On cue, the servants brought out piece after piece of dazzling jewelry, the kind of brilliance that nearly blinded Rebecca.

“Jack! That name sounds kind of familiar. What's his last name?”

“Something like… started with an S, I think. Can't remember the rest.”

Rebecca's head snapped toward me. A flash of unease crossed her eyes.

“It couldn't be……”

My vocal cords were damaged from the beating. I couldn't get a single word out.

Ken couldn't wait any longer and asked a servant when the guest was due to arrive.

“Sir, Mr. Sanchez arrived quite early. He glanced at me once, and now he's simply vanished!”

The color drained from Rebecca's face：

“It can't really be him……”

My assistant arrived late and out of breath, frantic as he addressed Old Mr. Henson：

“Mr. Sanchez is missing. He came today to propose to Miss Henson. There's no way he would have just left on his own!”

Rebecca's face went rigid, her voice shaking：

“His full name……what's his full name?”

“Jack Sanchez……”