Natasha became visibly irritated. Her fingers tapped impatiently against the nightstand as she snapped, "Stop being sarcastic. My parents have been nagging me about getting married lately.

"Since there are already rumors that Connor and I are together, I decided to just let him help me out to placate them. What's the big deal? Must you make life harder for me at a time like this?"

Sneering, I got out of bed and grabbed a pillow.

"Did you need him to help placate your parents? Couldn't you have just let your parents meet me instead? It's been seven years, and you're not even willing to tell them about me," I reminded her.

My words completely infuriated Natasha. She grabbed my arm forcefully, her nails digging into my skin. "You want me to officially introduce you as my boyfriend? Who do you even think you are?"

She exploded, coming up with all sorts of excuses to defend her actions and attacking me with all manner of accusations. Soon, she'd raised her voice so high that she was practically shrieking.

"Do you even get it? It's because you're a bum without any ambition! All you do is laze around the whole day. What else can you even do, besides writing a few lines of code and drawing a few sketches?

"How could I ever admit in public that I have a boyfriend who has to leech off his girlfriend? That's humiliating! What would my fellow designers, clients, and investors think of me?

"If you had even half of Connor's abilities or career potential, we'd already be married! He brings me resources and opportunities, unlike you, who just take and take!"

The moment Natasha finished her tirade, it suddenly hit her that she'd gone too far. She immediately froze. When our eyes met, she looked away. Even her lips started to tremble.

A dead silence fell over the room. Even the sound of our breathing could be heard. The occasional noise from a passing car outside the window only seemed to emphasize the heaviness of the silence.

I felt as if I'd been stabbed in the heart. Only now did I realize just how pathetic she thought I was. My seven years of devotion and sacrifice were worthless in her eyes.

After what felt like ages, Natasha finally said to me in a much softer tone, "I got you a new desktop computer. It's in the study. And don't take what I said seriously. I'm just far too exhausted right now."

She swiftly exited the bedroom, the sound of her heels fading down the corridor.

How could I not take what she said seriously?

Words spoken in anger often revealed how one truly felt. The tender affection she usually showed me only existed because she needed me.

The next day, I went to check the desktop computer Natasha had given me. It was the model I'd always wanted, perfect for design work.

I didn't really want it right now. I was just curious to see how genuine her "sincerity" was. After all, over the last seven years, she had almost always ignored all of my wishes and desires.

I turned on the computer and saw a video file right on the desktop. It had been created at 3:00 am, shortly after Natasha and Connor had returned last night.

When I played the video, Connor's face appeared on the screen. I could tell from the background that the video had been taken in this study.

Connor was dressed in a bathrobe, his hair slightly damp. It was clear he'd just come out of the shower.

"Hey, Simon. This computer was a birthday gift Natasha gave me last year. I was going to throw it out. The system's too old, and the specs can't keep up with my work. Since she wants to give it to you, you can have it. You don't need a top-of-the-line machine anyway, right?"

There it was. This was Natasha's so-called sincerity—an outdated, secondhand computer she didn't even bother to upgrade first.

The video was still playing. Connor's tone dripped with contempt as he said, "It's bad enough that you're sponging off Natasha, but you even want her to acknowledge you as her boyfriend in public? Don't you have any self-awareness? What makes you think you're worthy of her?

"Do you know how much a single design of hers is worth? What else are you capable of, besides mooching off her and using her money? How can you be so shameless? If I were you, I'd have left without being told years ago!"

I was used to Connor's attitude. Whenever I ran into him at the studio, he would always eye me as if I were some pathetic leech.

After turning off the video, I started clicking on the folders to see what else was there on the computer.

A hidden folder caught my attention. It was labeled "Private". The moment I clicked into it, however, my heart sank.

I was greeted with intimate photos and videos of Natasha and Connor—an astonishing number of them that had been taken over a span of three whole years.

In one photo taken in a dim hotel room, they were curled up intimately on a bed, the sheets in disarray. Natasha was looking at the camera with a sultry expression, her gaze brimming with love. I'd never seen that in her eyes before.

What broke my heart even more was the date of one of the videos. It'd been taken during my business trip last year, when I was working my butt off contacting suppliers for her new project.

Natasha's voice came through the speakers. "You're the only one who makes me this happy… I love you. I love no one but you."

She had never said that to me before.

I turned the computer off. It all became clear to me now.

In Natasha's eyes, our seven-year relationship was utterly worthless. I was nothing more than a pawn she utilized in her career pursuits, disposable at any given moment.

…

With my resignation letter in hand, I made a beeline for Natasha's office. My seven-year tenure as her production consultant was finally coming to an end today.

Upon opening the door, I saw Natasha and Connor going over some documents with matching frowns.

"How are we going to handle this lawsuit? We can't afford the damages," Connor said anxiously.

Natasha's gaze turned sharp the moment she spotted me. "What the hell, Simon? How dare you show yourself here after stealing our designs?"

Oh. So they were fretting over the patent infringement lawsuit. I knew the studio was currently caught up in some legal trouble, but I never expected the blame to fall on me.

"I haven't taken any designs."

"Then who's this in the security footage?" Natasha pushed a tablet toward me. "Isn't this you?"

The video simply showed the back view of a person wearing a shirt similar to one that I owned.

"That's not me," I said before looking at Connor. "Someone's trying to set me up."

Connor immediately flew into a rage. "What are you trying to imply? Are you suspecting me? Natasha, don't you know just how loyal I am to the studio?"

Snorting, Natasha declared, "I'm so disappointed in you, Simon. All these years, you've been using my equipment and drawing a salary from me. I've never mistreated you.

"Now that I have a lawsuit on my hands, it's bad enough that you're not helping me out, but how can you go so far as to frame an innocent man?"

I wanted to stand up for myself, but she had already used her desk phone to make a call. "I need security to come to my office."

Two burly men came walking in.

"Hold him down."

Before I could react, they pinned me to the floor.

Natasha walked over and slapped me across the face. "Hand over the designs. Or else, I'll make your life a living hell."

"I didn't take any designs!" I growled, my teeth clenched.

All I got in response was a punch in the face. I tasted blood in my mouth, my vision blurring.

"You think I won't dare to do anything to you?" Natasha said as she stared down at me.

More blows rained down on my body. I curled into a ball on the floor, my consciousness fading.

"Maybe you should tell them to stop hitting him, Natasha," Connor said, pretending to persuade her. "I'm sure he has already sold off the designs. I'll get in touch with Mr. Wagner and see if he can help us resolve this issue."

Natasha nodded. "See this, Simon? See how much Connor cares about the studio. Meanwhile, look at you. You're the worst!"

Connor made a call. "Hi, Mr. Wagner. We've run into some trouble and—"

"Not interested," Michael responded curtly. "My boss has already decided to pull all of the investments in the studio."

"What? Why?" Connor panicked. "If there are any issues, we can fix them!"

"You want to know why? You can ask my boss himself," Michael replied before giving Connor a number.

Connor's fingers trembled as he dialed the number and made the call.

My phone started ringing in my pocket. With great difficulty, I pulled it out and took the call. "What do you want?"

As I took in Connor and Natasha's shocked expressions, my bloodied lips curled into a faint smile.