Seeing the situation spiraling out of control, Mr. Smith feared Isabella would be completely corrupted by Christopher, so he hastily arranged our marriage.

Originally, after earning my Ph.D., I had already signed a contract to join a national research lab. But because of this sudden turn of events, I had to abandon that opportunity.

For the next thirty years, I poured all my knowledge and effort into the Smith family’s pharmaceutical research, single-handedly elevating their business from a top-ten enterprise in Jiangcheng to one of the nation’s top three.

Yet in the end, I was left with a body broken by overwork, burned alive in flames, dying without a proper burial.

To Isabella, this marriage had torn her apart from her beloved Christopher. But for me, wasn’t it also a sacrifice made out of gratitude?

With that thought, my decision was firm.

I looked up at Isabella, whose face was still twisted with hatred, and calmly opened the door.

"Since your heart isn’t in this, our engagement is canceled. You’re free to go."

Isabella’s eyes widened in disbelief.

"After scheming for so many years, wasn’t your goal to become the Smith family’s son-in-law?"

"Now that you’re on the verge of success, how could you suddenly be so generous?"

Seeing the suspicion and wariness in her eyes, a wave of exhaustion washed over me.

In the past, out of gratitude to the Smiths, I had always obeyed Isabella’s every whim, tolerating her behavior to the point of self-degradation.

Thanks to Christopher’s deliberate smear campaign, Isabella and the entire upper-class circle of Jiangcheng saw me as a gold-digging opportunist—using my status as a foster son to curry favor with the Smiths, desperate to marry into wealth.

As long as Isabella’s heart remained with Christopher, any explanation from me would be futile.

I shook my head with a bitter smile.

"No matter how despicable you think I am, I’ve always considered you family. Even if we can’t be husband and wife, I don’t want to be your enemy."

Isabella froze, staring at me with hesitation.

For the first time in years, I caught a glimpse of the innocent expression she once wore as a child.

"Fine, I’ll believe you this once!"

Isabella got up, changed into casual clothes, and with my help, slipped past the Smith family’s tight security into the night.

By the time Mr. Smith realized what had happened, Isabella had already reunited with Christopher. She even posted a video of the two of them locked in a passionate kiss on a hotel bed.

Furious, Mr. Smith smashed his phone on the spot and could only announce that the wedding was postponed.

It wasn’t until noon the next day that Isabella returned hand in hand with Christopher.

The low neckline of her dress was covered in telltale red marks, leaving little to the imagination about what had happened the night before.

"Dad, Christopher and I are deeply in love. What’s done is done—I might even be carrying your grandchild now. You might as well give us your blessing!"

Without regard for my presence, Isabella clung to Christopher, flaunting their affection.

"Isabella, you’re completely blinded, throwing yourself into ruin!"

Mr. Smith’s face darkened, but there was nothing he could do. He could only warn Christopher, "From now on, clean up your act. No more of your past recklessness—don’t embarrass the Smith family!"

Isabella was overjoyed that her father seemed to relent.

But Christopher remained as insolent as ever. He shot me a sidelong glance.

"Now that Isabella and I are getting married, there’s no reason for an outsider like you to stay with the Smiths, is there?"

Mr. Smith’s expression stiffened. Even Isabella looked surprised, tugging at Christopher’s sleeve.

"Christopher, that’s not necessary..."

"Of course it’s necessary! Every time I see his face, I’m reminded of how shamelessly he tried to climb his way into your life. Just the thought makes me sick!"

Christopher shook off Isabella’s hand and pointed at me mockingly.

"Or you could get on your knees right now, bark like a dog, and swear you’ll be the Smith family’s obedient mutt. Maybe then I’ll let you stay and beg for scraps!"

The moment I heard those words, my gaze locked onto Christopher.

I had stepped back earlier only to avoid repeating my past mistakes—not because I feared him.

My stare seemed to sting Christopher.

Gritting his teeth, he sneered, "What? You’re just an outsider. You wouldn’t dare lay a hand on the Smith family’s future son-in-law right in front of the patriarch, would you?"

But Mr. Smith immediately cut in with a cold snort.

"Hmph! If you hadn’t said that, I would’ve thought you were the one running this family! You sure sounded comfortable giving orders just now."

I understood—Mr. Smith was still on my side.

Humiliated twice in a row, even Christopher’s shamelessness had its limits.

"Come on, baby, say something for me!"

He immediately grabbed Isabella’s arm, shaking it pleadingly.

Though hesitant, Isabella finally turned to me. "Matthew, the choice is yours."

"Either do as Christopher says, or—"

"No need for the ultimatum. I never planned to stay."

My words made Mr. Smith rise to his feet.

"That’s out of the question!"

He gripped my shoulder.

"You’re the Smith family’s chief pharmaceutical expert! If you leave, what happens to the unfinished drugs? Those are your life’s work!"

Mr. Smith smiled bitterly.

I knew he wasn’t worried about the company’s profits being affected if the research failed.

He was just looking for an excuse to make me stay.

"Mr. Smith, all the finalized drug data has already been recorded. The Smith family’s expert team will assist you in completing the remaining research."

I smiled, completely devoid of the anger one might expect from being cast out. If anything, I felt lighter than ever.

"As long as professionals handle the follow-up, there won’t be any issues."

"It’s just a shame I won’t be able to help you anymore. I hope you find a true successor soon."

I made sure to emphasize one thing—the Smith family’s experts were competent enough to finish my work, but only if meddlers like Christopher were kept far away.

"What the hell do you mean by ‘true successor’? Are you implying that Isabella and I aren’t fit to inherit the family?"

Christopher was fuming.

But I didn’t even grant him a glance in response.

"Mr. Smith, I take my leave."

With that, I turned to walk away for good.

"Stop!"

Christopher spread his arms, blocking my path.

"If you’re really leaving, then do it clean!"

"However you came to the Smith family, that’s how you should leave!"

"The clothes on your back, the watch on your wrist, even the car you’ll drive out—which of these wasn’t bought with the Smith family’s money? How shameless are you to take them with you?"

Christopher raised his chin defiantly.

Clearly, he was just nitpicking now.

"If you’ve got nothing better to say, shut up."

I shot him an icy glare.

"Let’s not even talk about the past. Just in the last two years, I’ve developed three commercialized drugs for the Smith family, each averaging over a billion in profits."

"Thirty billion—isn’t that enough to cover these things?"

I stared straight at Christopher, watching his lips twitch in frustration.

He had lost again.

I wanted him to know—I was leaving of my own will, not because some worthless fool had driven me out.

But what I didn’t expect was for Isabella to suddenly bite her lip and step in front of me.

"Matthew, everything you just mentioned was merely repayment for the Smith family raising you all these years."