For the past three months, I've slept only three hours every day just so my team and I can create an app. Thanks to our hard work, the app goes absolutely viral to the point we've garnered over 100 million registered users on the first week of its launch.

At the afterparty, my wife, Stacie Woodward, announces that her godbrother, Tory Frost, who's the PR manager, will be the one receiving the million-dollar bonus. She then tosses me a few 50% discount coupons that can be used in shopping malls as my bonus.

"You're just a code monkey—why do you need that much money anyway? You can have these discount coupons. Use them on anything you want. At least buy some nice clothes for yourself. Don't go around wearing these rags. You'll just end up humiliating me more."

I plead to her in a low tone, "Have you gone crazy, Stacie? My dad needs the money for the best medication in order to save his life! Can you please stop joking around?"

But Stacie clings to Toby's arm, looking high and mighty.

"Your dad's dying, isn't he? He might as well stop wasting the public resources! I can always choose him a better grave and hold a nice funeral for him when his time comes!"

As I look at Stacie's smug face, I just smile at her instead of getting mad at her.

She must have forgotten that the app's core algorithm and the user growth model are built using my private, undisclosed technology stack. That means the copyright is mine and has nothing to do with the company.

I just smile while nodding at Stacie. That night, I activate the technology stack's self-destruct and migration protocols.

Stacie Woodward's words had barely left her mouth when I knocked over my wine glass right there and then.

Her expression darkened at once. "It's such a wonderful day, and you just have to ruin it for me, don't you?

"Your dad's condition has been the same for years. He's managed with cheap meds, why can't it stay that way?

"Stop being so selfish, Reuben Holt. Do you think my money grows on trees?"

With that, she shoved a few discount coupons straight down my collar. "Today's Tory's celebration party, so I suggest you don't start trouble. Now, apologize to him, give him a toast, and we'll forget this ever happened."

I almost laughed at the absurdity of her words and grabbed her wrist tight. "I wrote the algorithm and every line of code in the app by pulling all-nighters.

"Tory's just a PR manager who doesn't know anything about tech development, yet you're making me apologize to him. He isn't even worthy of my apology."

The next second, Stacie slapped me hard across the face. "Shut up!

"Even if Tory didn't code, he put in the work by managing connections and protecting Frostward Corporation's image. That takes hard work!

"You have no idea how much publicity and effort he poured into getting the app launched."

She raised her hand to strike again, but Tory Frost rushed over and caught her arm. "Calm down, Stacie. Reuben isn't entirely wrong either… In his eyes, I guess a small PR manager like me can't compare to a core tech guy like him.

"You should take this one million dollars back. Consider it an early birthday gift from me."

Stacie was visibly moved by his words. She took his hand and intertwined their fingers. "Don't worry, Tory. No one can take away what's yours."

She turned and gave me a sidelong look before sarcastically continuing, "See? That's what real class looks like.

"He's always thinking about giving me gifts and money, be they big or small, unlike some people who only know how to reach out and ask me for cash.

"Tory's your junior, Reuben. How can two students from the same college turn out to be so different? You're nowhere near as driven or considerate as he is."

Stacie's words broke me.

To build that app and push Frostward Corporation toward an IPO, I had spent three straight months barely sleeping more than three hours a night.

After pulling all-nighters daily like a night watchman, I had landed myself in the hospital more than ten times. But to her, all of that meant less than a man who talked pretty and took credit for other people's work.

Just as I opened my mouth to argue, my phone suddenly rang. When I picked up, Mom's desperate pleas came from the other end of the line.

"Reuben, your dad's asthma has flared up again, and he's back in the hospital. The doctors say that if he doesn't switch to that best medicine soon, he may not make it much longer.

"You know how it is at home. I don't have a job, and our savings are completely tapped out from all these years of medical bills for your dad.

"You mentioned that you'd get a huge bonus once the development project has succeeded. Could you… get an advance just to save his life? Please… I'm begging you."

I went cold.

I thought of the 4,600-dollar medicine and glanced at the 0.99-dollar balance in my bank account after topping up my phone credit. My fingers clenched around the phone as I swallowed every argument and explanation at the tip of my tongue.

After forcing a smile, I lowered my voice and begged, "You heard the call, Stacie. My dad's asthma has relapsed. He's back in the hospital and urgently needs the medicine to survive.

"Could you lend me five thousand dollars? I'll pay you back the moment my paycheck comes next month."

Stacie flicked her curls back and didn't bother to hide the contempt in her eyes. "Can't you even come up with a new excuse when lying for money?

"Last week, you told me that your dad was stable, but now you're urgently asking for five thousand dollars for the medicine. Your little schemes can't be any more obvious, Reuben."

My knuckles paled from gripping the phone too hard, and my face burned. My throat felt stuffed with cotton, and I couldn't even muster the strength to argue.

I should have figured. To her, I would always be the useless loser who only reached out for money.

She had totally forgotten that I had handed over all my savings and my monthly paycheck to her after we got married. Even when I needed to top up my phone credit, I had to file an application request with her.

There was no way I could possibly own five thousand dollars.

"Stacie."

Tory suddenly spoke up and reached out to gently pat Stacie's back. "Reuben probably won't joke about his dad's illness.

"Besides, five thousand dollars isn't exactly a huge amount, so let's just help him out with the emergency. If the old man actually dies, the funeral would have to cost way more than that."

Sure enough, Stacie softened at his words. She affectionately pinched his cheek and said, "You're too kind, Tory. Anyone else would have stopped indulging his clumsy act."

She unlocked her phone, but her finger hovered over the transfer button and abruptly stopped. Her eyes, which once looked at me with smiles, now held only cold calculation.

"If you want money, you should at least show the right attitude when you're asking for a favor, shouldn't you?"

My heart clenched as I had a feeling of what was coming, but at the thought of the money, I could only grit my teeth and wait for her to continue.

"You were acting pretty arrogant a minute ago, weren't you?"

She raised her chin and pointed to the glass in front of Tory. "Apologize to Tory, give him a proper toast, and finish this entire bottle of tequila. Do that, and I'll give you the five thousand dollars."

With that, she casually grabbed an unopened bottle of high-proof tequila from the table and slammed it onto the table in front of me.

"If you're too chicken to drink, that's fine, too. Get on your knees and beg him. Every time you apologize to him, I'll give you 500 dollars. Ten apologies for five thousand dollars sounds like a good deal, right?"

The room erupted in mocking laughter. Someone even whistled and egged me on.

"Do it, Reuben! Ten apologies for five thousand dollars is easy money!"

"Yeah! Why should you fight money? It's not like you've got any dignity left anyway!"

The laughter lashed at me like a whip on my back, which hurt so much that I could feel my blood boiling with fury.

I didn't do anything wrong. Why should I apologize?

He pretentiously tugged at Stacie's sleeve, though smugness was hidden in his eyes. "Just forget it, Stacie. Reuben didn't mean it, so there's no need to take it this far…"

"No way!" she snapped, shaking him off.

Her gaze turned vicious as she continued, "He embarrassed me in front of all these people, so he has to apologize to you today! Either drink or apologize, Reuben. You choose."

I looked at the message from Mom on my phone, which read "Medical bills overdue". As I pictured Dad gasping for air on the hospital bed, my heart felt like it was being crushed by an invisible hand. The pain was nearly suffocating.

Five thousand dollars was Dad's life on the line, so I couldn't afford to bet anything on it.

"I'll drink."

When I grabbed the bottle of tequila and twisted the cap off, the sharp scent rushed into my nose. Without hesitation, I tipped my head back and chugged it down.

The tequila burned down my throat like molten knives and ignited my stomach in searing pain, instantly setting my insides on fire. The jeers around me slowly faded until all that remained was the sound of my desperate gulps.

My stomach churned violently, and my vision darkened, but I dared not stop. Instead, I kept my eyes glued to the phone screen, waiting for the money transfer alert.

When the bottle emptied, the ping of a notification finally broke the silence. "Payment of five thousand dollars received."

As I let out a shaky breath, my hands shook so badly that I could barely hold the phone. With my last shred of consciousness, I transferred every penny to Mom.

Once the bank transfer went through, everything went dark, and I collapsed heavily to the floor.

The last thing I heard was Stacie's impatient voice. "What a buzzkill. Now we have to get him out of here."

…

I woke up to the smell of disinfectant filling my nose.

The doctor held a medical chart and sternly snapped, "Do you have a death wish, young man?

"Your stomach lining is severely damaged from continuous all-nighters, and you chugged an entire bottle of high-proof tequila on an empty stomach, so it triggered a gastric perforation. You wouldn't have made it if you'd arrived a minute later."

Gastric perforation…

I smiled bitterly and pressed a hand to my still-cramping stomach, but I felt no regret now that, at the very least, Dad's medicine was paid for.

In the next second, my phone buzzed with a message from Stacie.

"If you're awake, get back to the office ASAP! There's an issue with the app backend, and Tory says only you can fix it. Don't delay the company's IPO!"

As I read the text, I suddenly burst out laughing. The movement sent a sharp spasm through my stomach as tears slipped uncontrollably down my face.

She probably had no idea that just before I passed out last night, the self-destruct protocol for the tech database had entered its final countdown. The app's core functions would crash completely within 24 hours.

Instead of replying to her message, I contacted a lawyer and drafted the divorce papers. Then, I started sending out résumés.

Halfway through my job applications, there was a sudden knock on the door of my ward.

"Come in."

When I noticed who the visitor was, I sat bolt upright in shock.