The light rain outside dampened my face, making me look even more disheveled. I wiped the water from my forehead and kept walking, my mind cloudy with frustration. Suddenly, a limited edition Rolls-Royce pulled up beside me, its sleek black exterior shining in the rain.

A maid stepped out, holding an umbrella.

“Mr. Nicholson, I’m Ms. Livingstone’s housekeeper. She would like to invite you for a drink,” she said.

Ms. Livingstone... She was seventy years old and still insisting on being called 'Miss?'

Ridiculous!

Before I could even speak to refuse, several burly bodyguards rushed over, covered my mouth, and forcefully dragged me into the car.

I struggled, but my vision began to blur, and shortly after, I lost consciousness.

When I finally woke up, I realized I was completely naked.

Panic flooded through me, my heart pounding in my chest.

Standing in front of me was a seventy-year-old woman, her wide smile as she assessed me. She looked just like the rich old woman from the intimate photos that had circulated in the media.

A cold shiver ran down my spine.

'It’s over. Don’t tell me… it happened again. What a damned miserable life!'

“Not bad! Not bad at all!” she chirped. “You’ve got a fine, strong body, young man.”

Then, she gave me a thumbs-up and turned to the maid and instructed, “Get this young man a new outfit and send him to his new place."

After that, the old woman added, “And make sure the Nicholsons know. The engagement party’s happening the day after tomorrow. I’ll be inviting all the local elites.”

With that, she turned and walked off.

The maid rushed to get me dressed and pushed me into the car.

Through the tinted windows, I caught a glimpse of the old woman and a young girl in the living room, both looking at me. I couldn’t help but let out a sigh.

"Unbelievable," I muttered. "A woman her age still trying to seduce younger guys, and right in front of her granddaughter, no less?"

The car suddenly came to a stop. The bodyguards in the front and passenger seats turned to look at me, their faces showing shock and uncertainty.

I froze, instinctively shutting my mouth.

I didn’t want to end up in the ocean, feeding the fish, simply because of their impulsiveness.

When we finally arrived at the place, I was stunned.

It was a huge manor, ten times larger than my family’s villa.

Everywhere I looked, I saw gardenias—my favorite flower—planted all around.

I hadn’t been there long when Irene arrived, walking in with a frown of disgust.

“Well, Gregory,” she said, her tone tinged with dissatisfaction, “You looked like you were on the verge of death earlier, but now you’re living in a manor prepared by the old woman. I can’t believe I wasted my time trying to come up with a plan to help you avoid all this.”

I honestly couldn't believe she had the nerve to say such things.

She spoke as if she were the one who had been wronged, as if I hadn’t been humiliated, betrayed, and forced into this nightmare.

“What kind of plan did you come up with?” I asked, my curiosity piqued despite my anger.

“As long as you’re willing to stay by my side without any title,” Irene began, her voice lowering, “I can hide you away. I’ll erase your identity, and no one will be able to find you.”

Then, she narrowed her eyes and smiled, that familiar, calculating smile. “But the condition is, you must transfer your company shares to Chester.”

A dull ache formed in my chest.

So, that was her big plan to keep me locked up and owned, with nothing of my own. Or this was another way to help Chester get the company shares.

“How about it? Are you satisfied?” Irene’s smile grew wider as she handed me an agreement. “Sign this, and the three of us can live happily together.”

Her eyes revealed no guilt, only a desire for control.

I took a deep breath, raised my hand, and swiped the agreement off the table, knocking it into the air.

Under Irene’s surprised gaze, I said clearly, word by word, “I’m willing to marry the rich woman."

“What?” Irene was stunned, her mouth opening and closing as she processed my firm response.

Then, a knowing smile spread across her face, as if she had seen through everything.

“Oh, come on. I know you better than that,” Irene said. “You only get one chance. Don’t throw it away out of spite.”

Her confidence was nearly laughable. She still believed I was stuck deep in my love for her and still saw me as her obedient fool.

But my heart was already dead. I had nothing left to lose.

Before I could respond, my father and Chester arrived.

“You ungrateful bastard!”

My father’s face contorted with anger as he delivered a hard kick to my stomach.

I collapsed onto the ground with a heavy thud, cold sweat dripping down my forehead as pain shot through my body. My mind, clouded with confusion, struggled to make sense of the chaos.

I had no idea what was going on.

Then Chester spoke up, his voice cutting through my haze.

"Gregory," he said with a wounded tone, "this morning, seven old women came looking for you. They all said you needed to ‘take responsibility.’”

He sighed dramatically as he added, "They even slapped me, thinking I was you."

I caught the sly glint in his eyes.

Only then did it hit me that I’d been framed again.

Before I could say anything, Irene grabbed her purse and slammed it into my chest.

"Gregory!" she yelled. "You bastard, you’ve lost your mind! I used to feel sorry for you, but now I see that marrying you off to that seventy-year-old rich woman is exactly what you wanted, to feed your fetish!"

Her voice rose, shaking with fury. "All these years, I had no idea you were into this kind of thing. You’re so damn hypocritical! And now, you’ve dragged Chester into this mess! You deserve everything that’s coming to you!"

She didn’t ask for proof or question a single word. Her fury blinded her to the truth, and her belief in Chester’s one-sided story strengthened her conviction.

I swallowed the blood in my mouth, glaring at both my father and Irene.

"Chester is lying!" I said through clenched teeth.

Before I could get another word out, my father punched me hard in the stomach, knocking the wind right out of me.

"From now on," he yelled, "I'm taking back your shares, and we're done. You’re no longer my son!"

Then he threw a disownment letter at me, his voice ice-cold and emotionless. "Sign it!"

It was basically official proof that we would no longer have any connection as father and son.

Meanwhile, Irene crossed her arms, shooting me a cold stare. "Someone like you doesn’t deserve shares, and you sure as hell don’t deserve to be Uncle David's son! Chester's way better than you. He’d never lie! Don’t even think about trying to flip this on us!"

Seeing their unwavering loyalty to Chester, he smiled smugly and looked at me with clear provocation.

Realizing this, a lump grew in my throat. Feelings of rage and grief washed over me, perhaps both at once. I tried to speak but couldn’t find the words. Instead, I responded with a bitter, self-deprecating smile, the only thing I could manage.

Then I took the pen and the disownment letter and signed my name.

None of this useless, fragile love or this family mattered anymore.

I didn’t need them.

"Our engagement party and yours with that old rich woman are happening on the same day," Irene added, her tone ice cold. "When the time comes, just go to the hotel yourself."

Then she turned and walked away with my father and Chester.

After that, I didn’t hear from any of them again.

I thought about running away, but every time, I’d be caught within minutes and dragged back.

...

The moment I walked into the hotel on the day of the engagement party, I was greeted with sneers and whispers.

"Did you hear? Gregory’s a player, always sleeping with a bunch of old women," one guest said, barely trying to keep their voice down.

Another one chimed in, "He’s a freak. Worse than his brother Chester. At least Miss Irene saw through him early and picked a better guy."

"Ugh, look at him. He’s disgusting," the other guest snickered, throwing a disgusted glance in my direction.

Irene, my father, and Chester were chatting and laughing nearby.

When they saw me, their eyes shot daggers.

Each look hit harder than the last.

I tried to find a quiet spot to sit, but the maid and butler were on me in an instant, dragging me to the dressing room. Eight big guys stood behind me, like they thought I might try to make a run for it before the wedding.

After they finished putting me in the tuxedo, my dad stepped forward to share the big news. Irene and Chester moved into their spots and greeted everyone with their impressively perfect smiles.

Thunderous applause filled the hall.

Everyone praised them as a perfect match, like they were made for each other.

Then, the rich old woman I saw earlier appeared in a red evening gown, smiling as she took the stage.

Right there, the crowd stifled their laughter.

They knew the wealthy woman had significant financial influence because she invested in many businesses, so no one dared to offend her. Still, they couldn’t help but find the idea of an old woman marrying a young man ridiculous.

"Gregory Nicholson, please come up to the stage!" she announced.

Right then, the maid pushed me forward.

Under the crowd’s gaze, with Chester’s mocking expression burned into my mind, I forced myself to walk to the old woman’s side.

Once again, applause erupted.

Not out of joy, but in mockery.

It felt like needles stabbing my skin. There was no place to hide.

And then, over the noise, her voice cut through the air.

"What are you clapping for? Dear me, I’m not the one getting engaged to this young man!"

The old woman glanced at the crowd, her eyes filled with disdain, before continuing, “Now, please welcome my granddaughter! She is the one who will be marrying Gregory Nicholson.”