Harry Pate fails in his plan to secure a fortune from my family. He tries to drug me, hand me over to his friends, and even film it to control me.

Luckily, a kind netizen overhears him plotting with his mistress at a restaurant. The netizen posts a missing person alert online. "Please share widely. Looking for Freya White. Her boyfriend is trying to drug and assault her."

I see the post and quietly pour the drug into the pot they are about to drink from.

My inbox was flooded with messages warning me to watch out for my boyfriend, Harry Pate. My hands trembled as I opened one of the messages. It was an alert post from a woman who went by "SmallTownGirl".

"Please share. We're trying to find a woman named Freya White, a wealthy heiress from Syrinth. Her boyfriend was taking her back to his hometown in Quenvale.

"He had gathered several friends to drug and assault her and even planned to film a gang assault to blackmail her family and secure a fortune. Please help this woman!"

At first, I didn't believe it, but in the last photo of the post, I immediately recognized Harry from behind. Every piece of clothing from head to toe was something I had bought for him. I couldn't deny it.

I stared at him in the living room, making calls and setting up meetings, furious and in disbelief that I had wasted seven years of my life on him.

We had been together since college and had been planning our wedding for seven years. This had been a careful, deliberate decision. I wasn't someone who couldn't live without a man, and I wasn't with him to fix my life.

Harry had just played the part too well. Even my parents had been fooled. He pretended to be ambitious despite his poor background, never asked me for anything, and even worked part-time so that the gifts he gave me matched my standards.

From a 2-dollar americano to a 2,000-dollar handbag, he had said, "Just because we are together doesn't mean you should change your lifestyle."

He knew his family couldn't provide much. He worked relentlessly to earn the approval of my parents. I had never seen anyone work harder. He had given me everything he could, with all his heart.

But now, was any of it ever real?

I bit my lip and messaged SmallTownGirl, "Hi, I am Freya. I saw your post. Thank you."

"No need to thank me. As long as you saw it. You haven't gone to Quenvale, right?" she responded.

"I'm already here. I'm at his house, listening to him as he calls people to come over. Can you help me? I'll send the address. Can you come get me?" I replied.

"Sure, I'll be right there," she answered immediately. "By the way, did you see the hand in the photo? You know whose it is, right?"

"Yes, I know. Don't worry," I replied.

I could never have mistaken that hand. The gold bracelet on it was the one I had accidentally lost six months ago. It turned out that Harry had stolen it and given it to his female friend, Sharon Bell.

I had met Sharon five years ago. She had a red birthmark on her left hand, and I remembered it clearly. At the time, she had pressed it in front of me just to provoke me.

"Harry says this birthmark is a sign that only beauties have. Freya, you should keep an eye on him. How can someone so slick be trusted?" she said.

I ignored her and just gave Harry a cold laugh. "She's your childhood friend?"

Harry quickly shook his head. "Just a friend."

I asked again, "A female friend?"

He understood. Not only did he send her away, but he also apologized to me. "I'm sorry, Freya. Back then, we all hung out together, and I didn't even realize she was a manipulative vixen. Now I know. I'll stay far away from her."

He kept his word. For five years, I never heard the name Sharon again, and I never saw her. He stayed faithful. I was the only woman in his life. He played the part so perfectly that I had not noticed a single flaw.

Last month, he had gone to my house with his parents to discuss our wedding. No matter how much they promised that they were only interested in me and not my family's money, Dad insisted that Harry sign a prenuptial agreement before agreeing to the marriage.

"Whether it is property before marriage or earnings after, everything belongs to each of you individually. No shared property. Sign it, and I can confidently marry Freya off to you," Dad said.

For a moment, Harry's smile faltered, but he quickly recovered and agreed.

He had spent seven years carefully setting a trap and playing his part, enduring everything. In the end, he got nothing.

That was why he had gone mad, colluded with his female friend to destroy me in the cruelest way ever, and driven my parents to desperation so he could claim everything he had coveted.

There was no way I was going to let him get away with it. A mudball should stay in the bottomless swamp where it belonged.

"Freya, tonight I want to introduce you to my childhood friends. You have no idea how jealous they are that I have you as my girlfriend," Harry said.

He held me close and then pretended to be worried. "By the way, do you remember Sharon?"

I stifled a cold laugh. "I remember. Is she coming too?"

Harry scratched his head awkwardly. "You know I don't really keep in touch with her. But we invited everyone we know. If we didn't invite her, people would gossip."

He hugged me and tried to coax me. "Don't be mad. I won't talk to her. Let's just treat her like she's not even there, okay?"

I felt disgusted. I pushed him away without expression and stared at him for two minutes, catching the tiniest flicker of guilt on his face. Acting against someone so skilled wasn't easy.

I pretended to be annoyed. "Fine, let her come. I can't embarrass you in front of your friends."

While he made calls to gather people, I secretly searched all the pockets and luggage. At last, I found a one-fluid-ounce bottle of drug tucked inside a shoe cover in his suitcase. One fluid ounce was enough to take down ten people.

I poured the drug into an empty cosmetic bottle, filled it with water, and returned it to its place.

Harry was in the yard speaking softly with his parents. I saw his mother cover her mouth as she laughed, telling him not to worry. She assured him that no matter what happened upstairs, they would be fast asleep and wouldn't hear a thing. Perfect. That put me at ease.

I took the tea from the luggage and brewed a pot in the old, yellowed teapot, preparing the finest tea for them.

Soon, nine people arrived. Sharon was the only female. They all acted without manners, grabbing cherries from the table without greeting. This was my first time dealing with these brats.

I raised an eyebrow and asked Harry, neatly dressed, "Are these all your old friends?"

Sharon felt insulted and lifted her chin. "We grew up playing together with Harry. You're an heiress from Syrinth, so it is normal to look down on people like us from the countryside."

A man named Ronald Mills glanced at me while holding a cigarette. "City women are all fake. Don't come crying and begging us later."

Several of them could barely hide their excitement, sizing me up as if I were standing naked before them. Their looks were raw and disgusting.

I looked at the empty plate of cherries and finally saw Harry for who he really was. A pile of rotten mud might cling to a wall for a while, but in the end, it still sank into the stinking sludge. He was rotten to the bone.

I turned cold eyes on Harry. "What do your friends mean by that? I actually wanted to treat them well. I made gold Earl Grey tea that costs 20 thousand dollars per pound. Who is looking down on whom now? Since they all look down on me, I'm leaving. Don't let me block your view."

I grabbed my bag and headed for the bedroom. Harry rushed to stop me and said, "Freya, don't listen to them. People from the countryside are harsh with words. They're not targeting you."

He turned to Sharon and said, "Hurry and pour tea for Freya to apologize. If you don't calm her down, no one's going to have a good time!"

Sharon pouted and poured tea for everyone. She reluctantly said, "Sorry, Freya. We're always blunt. I'll drink mine first."

After all nine of them drank, I handed the teapot to Harry. "I don't drink tea. You have it."

I picked up the empty teapot and pointed at the whiskey on the table. "You guys go ahead. I'm going to wash this."

Harry asked with a smile, "You're not mad anymore, right?"

I punched his chest and took their cups in my hand. "Fine, I'll wash the teapot and then get some snacks for you."

Sharon hurriedly stopped me. "Freya, you haven't had any tea. Can't you at least drink water?"

She didn't realize I could see the drug bottle at my feet. I smiled, picked it up, and drank it. Once they were relaxed, I headed downstairs.

Sharon laughed arrogantly. "Everyone, let's try something new. Harry won't mind."

I walked into the kitchen expressionless, set down the teapot, and immediately climbed out of a window.

The drug would take effect in ten minutes. The GoPro I had hidden in the corner would automatically send me footage of the chaos inside. I couldn't wait to watch them reap what they had sown.