Behind me, her shrill voice rang out again, persistent as ever. I swallowed down the urge to snap back and quietly left with the security guard.

In the rearview mirror of my electric scooter, I caught one last glimpse of that old woman spitting as she complained to the neighbors, a smug look painted plainly across her face.

That night, when I returned to the cramped rental room, Milo was already home.

Seeing my pale expression, he rushed over and began massaging my shoulders, eager to please.

“What happened? Who dared to upset our Vespera?”

I turned my head, meeting his cheerful eyes and recounted everything that had happened at noon with a bitter heart.

But in the end, Milo only laughed it off with casual disdain.

“Vespera, didn’t I already say? Delivering takeout isn’t a great idea. Everyone’s doing it these days and let’s be honest, the quality of delivery workers is pretty low and they are always flying down the streets like maniacs...”

“Why argue with an old woman? Just quit in a few days. That job’s exhausting and embarrassing anyway...”

“Enough. Don’t say another word.”

I cut him off coldly and he froze in place.

“I earn my living through honest labor, delivering food. There’s nothing shameful about that.”

“Nowadays, the meals are sealed and the platform has proper rules. Is this job really as disgraceful as you make it sound?”

Because I was angry, my tone came out a little too sharp. Milo stood there, dumbfounded.

He clearly hadn’t expected such a fierce reaction from me. For a moment, he just froze, then hurriedly waved his hands.

“No, no, that’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean? I was being humiliated right to my face and instead of standing up for me, you’re telling me to switch jobs?”

“Vespera, why let someone like that get to you?” His voice started to carry a hint of irritation.

“She’s old, probably just hard to get along with. You should be more understanding toward the elderly.”

“And don’t take your work stress out on me; I didn’t do anything to you!”

Listening to him speak with such self-righteousness, I suddenly found it laughable.

I had met Milo two months ago on the street.

He’d approached me while I was eating and since I happened to be beginning my research on the food delivery market, I told him I was working as a delivery driver.

Back then, he wasn’t like this at all.

“I think being a delivery worker is great. It has flexible hours and decent pay, but it's just a bit tough.”

Now, all of it felt ridiculous. I gave up arguing and walked straight into the bathroom.

After dinner, Milo came into the study to find me.

His voice was gentler this time, admitting he had been wrong and shouldn’t have said those things.

He said he wanted to take me home to meet his mother, an official introduction.

Though I was still upset, I figured since he had already told her about me, I might as well go along with it.

But the moment I stepped into his neighborhood, I froze on the spot.

I stared at the familiar streets and the familiar building, unable to take another step.

Turning to him in confusion, I asked, “Which floor is your place?”

“401. I told you before, didn’t I?”

Milo looked back at me and when he saw my expression shift, it seemed to hit him all at once.

“The delivery you mentioned that day, was it my house?”

His face darkened instantly, but only for a second. He quickly smoothed it over, pretending like nothing happened and reached out to take my hand.

“It’s fine. My mom’s easy to talk to. You’ll see once you meet her.”

With unease weighing on me, I followed behind Milo, my mind scrambling for a plan.

But just then, the door swung open.

“Milo! You’re finally back!”

Along with that exaggerated greeting, a familiar voice rang out again.

Right, I'd heard it before, back when Milo had called his mom. No wonder it sounded so familiar.

The next second, she stepped out of the room, her eyes lighting up eagerly, but the moment she saw me, she froze.

“Where’s your girlfriend? Tell her to come in—”

That face, blooming like an old peony a second ago, instantly collapsed into something cold and stony.

“It’s you!”

Without another word, she spun on her heel and marched back inside.

Milo’s face turned stiff with embarrassment as he tugged me in by force.

She stood at the doorway, eyeing me like an X-ray, her mouth almost hanging open.

Milo forced a smile and said, “Mom, this is Vespera Harper.”

“Vespera, this is my mom.”

My throat tightened, I could barely get the words out.

“Hello, Auntie.”

She let out a sharp laugh, shrill and unpleasant.

“Oh, so it’s you,” she said, dragging out every word with dripping contempt.

Then she turned to Milo, her voice rising without warning.

“Milo, what kind of girlfriend is this? A food delivery girl?”

“Are we starving at home now? You had to go out and find someone like…”

She paused and said, “…someone this shameless and disgraceful?”

The air turned to ice.

I felt the blood rush to my head and my face burned hot.

Milo’s expression shifted, awkward, helpless. “Mom! What are you saying!”

His mom sneered. “I’m telling you, Vespera, our Evans Family will never accept a daughter-in-law like you! Break up with my son immediately. Do you hear me?”

Seeing things spiraling out of control, Milo quickly pulled me into the bedroom, saying I should wait there while he talked to her.

Even with the door shut, I could still hear her voice, sharp, vicious.

Words like “lowly” and “filthy” pierced through the walls. But slowly, it began to quiet.

I didn’t know how much time had passed before Milo came in again, wearing a strained smile and calling me out for dinner.

Before we left the room, he leaned in and whispered, “My mom has a sharp tongue but a soft heart. Don’t take it to heart, okay? Just be sensible tonight, don’t lose your temper.”

At the dinner table, the tension still hung thick in the air.

Milo did his best to lighten the mood while I kept my head down, not saying a word and I definitely avoided her gaze, which felt like it could tear me apart.

Just when I thought I had finally made it through the worst, something utterly unexpected happened.

Milo’s mother walked out of the kitchen with a bowl of steaming hot soup and as she passed by me, the scalding liquid poured down without mercy, drenching my hand and thigh.

A large patch of skin turned red in an instant.

“Ah! Ah!” I cried out in pain, instinctively shoving her away.

“Oh heavens!”

She shrieked theatrically as she toppled to the ground, but I caught the flicker of smugness in her eyes.

“What are you doing?! Trying to take revenge on me?!”

Milo’s mom slapped her thigh and wailed from the floor, “Milo! Look at the girlfriend you’ve chosen; she’s practically a demon!”

I could hardly believe what I was hearing. Rage boiled up in me like a volcano about to erupt.

I snapped my head up and glared at her.

“What did you just say…”

Slap. Before I could finish, a sharp, stinging slap landed on my face. The skin instantly burned hot.

I turned back slowly, stunned, watching as Milo rushed over to his mother.

“Mom, are you okay?” he asked in a panic, checking on her with care without sparing me even a glance.

The scalding pain surged again. I gasped, my breath catching.

“Call an ambulance…”

The moment Milo heard that his expression was twisted in anger.

“What? It wasn’t me, it was your mom who—”

“Shut up!” he snapped.

“So now you’re saying my mom poured soup on you on purpose?”

“I clearly saw you shove her just now!”

I tried to speak, but the pain was so overwhelming I could barely breathe.

“Stop pretending! That soup’s been sitting for a while; it wasn’t even that hot! Don’t act like you’re dying!”

His mother, still sprawled dramatically on the floor, continued hurling insults.

Milo’s gaze turned cold.

“Vespera, apologize to my mom. Now.”

The burns hurt, but his words hurt more. The man who used to say he loved me now looked like a stranger.

I couldn’t even catch my breath. My vision spun.

And then, everything went dark.

When I woke up, I was already in the hospital.

"Can you believe it? The one lying here has actual burns and no one showed up. But that old woman who’s perfectly fine? She’s getting a full checkup."

"Shh, she’s waking up."

I blinked slowly. Two nurses came rushing over to check on me.

My voice was faint.

"Please help me contact someone…"

I gave them Lennox Mitchell’s name, who was my assistant. He was the only one I could rely on now.

Seeing that I’d be stuck in the hospital for a while, I made a call and settled everything with him. Only then did I feel a small wave of relief.

My whole body was wrapped like a mummy, barely able to move. The searing pain covering every inch of me nearly drove me mad.

What I didn’t expect was that from that day onward, Milo would never come again.

Not a visit. Not even a single message.

Day by day, the coldness in my chest deepened.

Luckily, with Lennox’s quiet care, I recovered fairly well.

Eventually, I pulled through and was discharged.

Despite Lennox’s objections, I insisted on returning to the field to continue my research on the food delivery market.

But strange things started happening; complaints flooded in for no reason, especially from the residential complex where Milo’s mother lived.

Someone even reported me for stealing.

Milo had completely vanished. He never returned to the rental room we once shared.

I suspected it was his mother stirring up trouble again, so I chose to turn a blind eye.

That afternoon, the sunlight was a little too harsh. I was riding my small electric scooter, humming a song, on my way to deliver some spicy chicken.

As fate would have it, I passed by that same complex, the one that now made my stomach churn just at the sight of it.

I couldn’t help but wonder if Milo’s mom would come up with another trick to report me this time.

And just as that thought flashed through my mind, a figure suddenly darted out from the roadside shrubbery without a single warning.

It was an old lady.

My pupils shrank as panic surged through me. I instinctively yanked the handlebars and slammed the brakes.

But that figure charged at me and shoved me hard.

The impact knocked both me and the scooter to the ground.

Pain shot through my elbows and knees, scraping against the pavement like sandpaper.

The thermal box flew out of the rack, flipping mid-air. The food burst from the containers, scattering across the asphalt.

It was over; this delivery was completely ruined.

I struggled to get up, still dazed.

Then, I heard that sharp, venomous voice again, “Oh my god! The delivery girl hit someone! She’s killed someone!”