The day the Labarres declared bankruptcy, everyone assumed I would break off my engagement to Zach Labarre.

In the middle of a torrential downpour, I abandoned my umbrella and helped the disheveled Zach into the car.

"I'll give you ten million dollars. If you succeed, come back and marry me. If you fail, I'll marry you instead."

Five years later, Zach returned, leading three publicly listed companies.

In front of all the media, he announced, "Leah Chandler and I ended our engagement five years ago."

The day the Labarres declared bankruptcy, everyone assumed I would break off my engagement to Zach Labarre.

In the middle of a torrential downpour, I abandoned my umbrella and helped the disheveled Zach into the car.

"I'll give you ten million dollars. If you succeed, come back and marry me. If you fail, I'll marry you instead."

Five years later, Zach returned, leading three publicly listed companies.

In front of all the media, he announced, "Leah Chandler and I ended our engagement five years ago."

-

For the past five years, there had been another woman by his side.

She offered him her shoulder when he was tired, comforted him when he was down, and celebrated his successes.

They supported each other through thick and thin, sharing their triumphs and sorrows. Their relationship was harmonious, a bond formed in adversity and strengthened by mutual affection.

And me? The woman who had invested ten million to help him rebuild his life? I had become a joke.

"This is 30 million," Zach said, handing me a card. "It's my way of repaying the favor from back then."

The once impulsive and brash Zach had transformed into a mature, composed man exuding confidence and sharpness.

Back then, I had been utterly bewitched by that face. I had begged my father—pleaded, really—to help him one last time.

And even now, with just one glance at him, a flicker of possessiveness stirred within me.

How pathetic.

I picked up the card and handed it to my secretary without a hint of emotion.

Looking directly at Zach, I ordered coldly, "Check this thoroughly. Not a cent less."

As the secretary took the card, Zach let out a long sigh of relief, as though a massive weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

I admired my freshly manicured nails, my tone indifferent. "Do you think this clears your debt to me?"

Zach straightened his back, his expression solemn. "Ms. Chandler, if you ever need anything in the future, don't hesitate to come to me. I will do whatever it takes to help."

Then, after a brief pause, he added, "Except marry you."

He said it with such earnestness, as though trying to present himself as a man of integrity.

But too bad, I wasn't impressed.

"Those diamond earrings you bought at the auction yesterday—I like them. Have them delivered to me by tomorrow morning."

The earrings, which Zach had splurged a fortune on, were reportedly meant as a gift for his fiancée, Wynona Fletcher.

I wondered how certain people might react if they saw them dangling from my ears.

Zach hesitated.

I rose from my seat, heading upstairs without looking back. "Mr. Labarre, if you're not a man of your word, consider my words just now a joke."

The next morning, the earrings were placed on my vanity by my secretary.

I held them up, studying their brilliance. Stunning, just as I'd thought.

That evening, I attended a banquet in a vintage gown, perfectly complemented by the earrings.

Zach arrived with Wynona by his side, while I had no one accompanying me.

The murmurs around me grew louder. Everyone was speculating why the earrings Zach had intended for his fiancée were now adorning my ears.

Wynona approached me, her smile polite but tinged with condescension.

"Ms. Chandler," she said, her voice sweet, "Zach explained everything to me. These earrings are his way of repaying your kindness."

I sipped my wine, deliberately turning away without acknowledging her.

Women who lacked sense weren't worth my time or energy.

But she wasn't done. With a mocking lilt in her tone, she continued, "Ms. Chandler, I guess you don't know much aside from how to amass wealth—for example, how to love someone. If you did, Zach wouldn't have chosen me."

I glanced at the half-full glass in my hand, finding the wine insufficient to quench my frustration.

So, I picked up a cake from the table and smashed it into her smug face.

"Ah!"

Her sharp cry instantly drew everyone's attention.

Zach rushed over immediately, pulling out a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe the cream off Wynona's face.

His tone was cold and accusatory as he addressed me. "Ms. Chandler, why would you embarrass my fiancée like this?"

I tossed the cake tray aside and dusted my hands off disdainfully. "She ruined my appetite."

Wynona clung to Zach's chest as tears welled up in her eyes, her delicate demeanor resembling that of a frail flower.

"I just came over to tell Ms. Chandler that I don't mind her taking the earrings. If it helps her vent her frustrations, I'm willing to do whatever it takes."

The moment those words left her mouth, my nemesis, Quinley Scott, crossed her arms and sneered, "Leah's bullying people again. She's always flaunting her family's wealth, taking whatever she wants from others."

The crowd quickly chimed in, their voices uniting in condemnation. To them, I was nothing more than a spoiled heiress—arrogant, self-centered, and utterly insufferable.

I kept my smile perfectly poised, my lips curling just enough to maintain an air of grace. My gaze, however, remained fixed on Zach's dark, unreadable eyes. I stared at him for what felt like an eternity.

"Let's go," Zach finally muttered, carefully guiding Wynona away. Watching their retreating figures, I couldn't help but feel a sharp pang of irritation.

Zach and I had been engaged since we were eighteen. Back then, Zach had been a brash yet reserved young man. His pale cheeks would flush pink at my teasing, a telltale sign of his youth and innocence.

I had enjoyed toying with him, having for him the kind of affection a woman might have for a man.

But the day his family declared bankruptcy, he seemed to grow up overnight. His gaze turned sharper, filled with a tenacity that refused to bow to fate.

I had known he'd rise again someday, but what I hadn't anticipated was that his success wouldn't necessarily include me—or the promises we once shared.

Did I regret it? Regret had never been my style.

I could lift him out of the dirt, but I could just as easily throw him back into it.

From that day forward, every time Zach showed up at an event, so did I.

If he bid on a plot of land, I'd outbid him by double.

If he competed for a project, I'd undercut his price by half.

If Zach wanted to compete with me in wealth, I wanted him to realize he wasn't even close to my league.

When I was dominating Breskland, he was barely scraping by with the ten million I had given him, struggling in some small corner of the world.

Eventually, Zach couldn't take it anymore. He came to my home alone, clearly intending to make amends.

Standing before me, he held himself steady, his voice calm and unwavering. "Ms. Chandler, this isn't doing you any good. Even the Chandlers' fortune can't sustain this kind of wastefulness."

I raised an eyebrow, sensing the subtle condescension in his words. Was he... lecturing me?

I glanced over his shoulder, noting the absence of someone. "Where's your fiancée? Shouldn't she be apologizing to me too?"

His lips pressed into a thin line, and he bent slightly at the waist, his posture a careful balance of humility and pride. "I'm here on her behalf. I apologize for what happened that day, but Ms. Chandler, you were the one who struck first. Both sides bear responsibility."

I scoffed. If that was his version of an apology, he might as well not have bothered.

Feigning disappointment, I rested my hand against my temple and sighed. "I'll admit I went too easy on her. You'd better keep her out of my sight. Next time, it won't just be a cake."

Seeing that I was unmoved, Zach's patience wore thin. His expression darkened as he straightened his back. "If you insist on making life difficult for Wynona, then there's nothing more to discuss. I suppose we'll settle this in the business world."

Leaning back on the couch, I crossed one leg over the other, exuding confidence. "Fine by me. Don't keep me waiting."

After leaving my place, Zach went on a spree, reaching out to all the major players in various industries, trying to forge alliances.

But in Breskland, my word carried weight. A single phone call from me, and no one dared work with him.

Besides, when the Labarres went bankrupt, they had dragged plenty of others down with them. I wasn't the only one who didn't want to see Zach rise again.

Then Wynona, ever the opportunist, posted a tearful video online. With millions of followers at her disposal, she accused me of monopolizing industries and targeting Zach out of spite. Her sob story about their struggles to rebuild their lives as entrepreneurs struck a chord with countless viewers, who showered her with sympathy.

When my secretary showed me the video, I couldn't help but laugh. It was pitiful, really.

Without hesitation, I called Zach. "Tell your fiancée to take down that video. She has two minutes."

On the other end of the line, Zach's voice was calm, almost indifferent. "Everything she said is true."

"True?" My tone turned icy. "Are you sure you're willing to sacrifice even the last shred of your dignity?"

There was a pause, the silence stretching between us. Then Zach spoke, his voice resigned, "I'll have her delete it."

The fact that I had given him that money was known only to a select few in our circle. If word got out online, the one truly humiliated would be him.

Zach was a businessman, after all. When it came down to it, what was a fiancée compared to his reputation?

Colton Maurus, my childhood friend, had grown up with me. On the night of my engagement to Zach, he had clung to the statue at my front gate, crying until dawn.

The day the Labarres went bankrupt, he spent over a million dollars setting off fireworks all night in Breskland.

He had said, "It wasn't for you. I just can't stand Zach."

That was how the two of us ended up as partners in crime, with no romantic affection for each other.

That night, he invited me to a bar to relax and even thoughtfully arranged for eight male hosts.

A few glasses of wine later, my true nature emerged. With one macho man in my left hand and a pretty boy in my right, I was having the time of my life.

The door to the private room swung open, and through my drunken haze, I thought I saw Zach's annoying face.

Sure enough, it was him.

"Who invited him to ruin the mood?" I asked irritably.

Colton, ever so considerate, tugged at the hem of my dress, which was dangerously close to riding up my thighs, and smugly said, "It was me. We needed someone to pour drinks."

I glanced at Colton, who looked as pleased as a cat that just caught a mouse, and didn't quite follow his logic.

Colton wasted no time yelling at Zach, who stood awkwardly by the door like a bouncer, "Why are you just standing there? Hurry up and pour the drinks!"

Leaning close to my ear, he added gleefully, "He's asking my dad for a favor right now. He wouldn't dare disobey me."

So, this was all about humiliating Zach. Was it Colton's way of standing up for me? I decided to interpret it that way, though not without some skepticism.

While I was lost in thought, Zach had already picked up a bottle and bowed halfway before me, filling my glass with precision.

It appeared he knew when to be firm and when to bend when necessary.

Under the shifting lights, his chiseled face looked impassive, his eyes revealing nothing, as though he had transcended all worldly desires. It was laughable that, even in this situation, he still clung to his pride.

Deliberately, I tipped my glass over, spilling wine onto his pristine white shirt.

His brows furrowed slightly, a clear expression of displeasure.

"Oops, my bad. Pour me another one, would you?"

The veins on his hand gripping the bottle bulged, his jaw tightening as if to suppress a retort. Every slight movement betrayed his frustration.

When he refilled my glass, I took a sip of the sharp liquor and, emboldened, grabbed his collar, pulling him closer.

At this proximity, I could feel his warm breath against my face.

I suddenly leaned forward, and he instinctively turned his head, avoiding me.

The gesture ignited my temper. Unable to resist, I spat a mouthful of wine right into his face.

Droplets slid down his sharply defined features and disappeared into his collar, leaving behind an oddly charged atmosphere.

Calmly, I grabbed a tissue, wiped my mouth, and casually tossed it at his face.

"Sorry, couldn't help myself."

Zach shot to his feet, hurling the bottle to the ground with a loud crash. The shards flew everywhere, one slicing into my exposed calf.

"I've already paid you back. If you keep humiliating me, it'll be crossing a line."

"Am I crossing a line?" I turned to Colton.

Colton quickly shook his head. "How could it be? If it weren't for you helping him back then, he'd probably be begging under some bridge."

I turned my gaze back to Zach. "Did you hear that? You owe me more than just money. You owe me your life."

Lifting my injured leg, I showed him the blood trickling down in a thin line.

"Lick it clean, or I'll make sure you're carried out of here on a stretcher."

Colton let out a disgusted sound, scrunching up his face. "That's gross."

I shot him a glare. "You don't get it. Saliva's antiseptic."

While we bantered back and forth, Zach turned to leave.

Colton's bodyguards blocked the door, clearly unwilling to let him off so easily.

A commotion erupted outside, and then Wynona burst through the door, right on cue.

Positioning herself protectively in front of Zach like a mother hen shielding her chick, she declared, "If you so much as lay a finger on Zach, you'll have to deal with me."