The day before the new software was set to launch, I was dragged into an alley by more than a dozen burly men.

By the time I was rescued, my intestines had prolapsed, and my limbs were twisted beyond recognition.

Clara, my sister, pulled every string she could, vowing to bring those who had harmed me to justice.

Her fiancé, and my closest friend, Wyatt, arranged for the country’s top medical team to fly in overnight to save me.

Yet, as I lay outside the emergency room, I overheard Wyatt’s hesitant voice.

"Honey, don’t you think we went too far? Hiring all those men to violate Jayce just so we could steal the software and get Henry’s version out first?"

Clara cast a complicated glance at me before gritting her teeth and replying, "Jayce is too selfish. He’s already the eldest heir of the Evans family, yet he still refuses to yield. He bullies Henry at every turn. Henry has always been fragile and sensitive because of his status as an adopted son. The only person he can rely on is me, his sister. I won’t let anyone stand in his way."

"As for Jayce, he carries the title of my biological brother. Even if he's been sullied, no one will dare say a word, . Once Henry wins this software award and secures his future, I will make it up to Jayce."

But, sister—you’ve already destroyed me.

How can there be a future for me?

The warmth in my heart faded into nothingness.

This home, built on lies and favoritism, meant nothing to me anymore.

——

The doctor hesitated, then confirmed again, "Ms. Evans, are you certain you don’t want to proceed with the surgery? If we delay any longer, Mr. Evans won’t just be crippled—he may end up paralyzed for life, permanently reliant on a catheter."

Without hesitation, Clara replied, "No surgery!"

Wyatt hesitated before attempting to persuade her. "Honey, look at him. His body is already in ruins. There’s no way he’ll be able to attend the software launch tomorrow. He’s your biological brother. Do you really want to watch him become a cripple?"

"So be it!" she snapped. "If he loses his limbs, he’ll finally stop trying to steal Henry’s spotlight. He doesn't have to worry. I’ll take care of him for the rest of his life."

With careful hands, she wiped the sweat from my forehead, her voice brimming with indulgence and affection.

"I promised Henry that he would win this award in glory. Only if Jayce is completely crippled will Henry have peace of mind."

Wyatt let out a heavy sigh and gave instructions to the doctors. "Give Jayce the best painkillers you have. Make sure he doesn’t suffer."

No one noticed how my body trembled uncontrollably. No one saw the silent tears rolling down my cheeks.

It was never an accident.

The sister I had trusted the most had orchestrated it all—just to eliminate me, the obstacle in Henry’s path.

Even the brother I had treated with sincerity was complicit.

The agony of betrayal shattered me.

Wyatt noticed the damp pillow beneath my head and with red-rimmed eyes, he tried to comfort me. "Jayce, it’s me, Wyatt. Did the pain wake you up? Don’t worry. I’m here with you."

Then, he turned and furiously snapped at the doctors. "What kind of pain management is this? Can’t you see how much he’s hurting?!"

Clara, usually cold and composed, clutched her face, tears streaming uncontrollably. She looked as if she wished she could take my suffering upon herself.

Through clenched teeth, she spat out, "How dare they hurt my brother like this?! Just throwing them in jail is too good for them! I should have had them torn to pieces and fed them to the sharks!"

Then, her tear-filled eyes turned to me. "Jayce, I’ve already called in the best specialists in the country to treat you. But... there was an accident on their way here. The soonest they’ll arrive is tomorrow."

"Don’t worry, even if it costs me everything, I’ll make sure you recover and continue developing your software."

I stared at her flawless performance, feeling numb.

My voice was weak as I asked, "Sis, will I really get better?"

"Yes," she assured me, "You will. Definitely."

Clara spoke loudly, but her eyes flickered with guilt, refusing to meet mine.

She knew all too well—after personally driving the knife into me, how could she possibly expect me to breathe again?

To pave the way for Henry, the sister who once stood before our parents’ graves, swearing to protect me for life, was the very one who pushed me to the brink of death.

And the best friend I once trusted with my life? In the end, he too chose to betray me for that manipulative adopted son.

At this moment, I couldn’t even tell—who was truly Clara’s flesh and blood? And who, after twelve years of unwavering loyalty, was Wyatt’s real friend?

Even their marriage was something I had helped arrange. Yet in return, they chose to destroy me with lies and deceit, slicing me apart with their betrayal.

My heart was dead. I had no more words to say.

A doctor approached, carrying antiseptic solution. He looked at my grotesquely twisted limbs and the horrifying wounds on my lower body, his face filled with pity.

"Mr. Evans, the specialists haven’t arrived yet. We can only disinfect your wounds for now. You’ll have to endure it."

No amount of anesthesia could numb the agony. I bit down so hard that I tasted blood in my mouth. Yet the physical pain was nothing—nothing compared to the torment in my heart.

Wyatt clenched his fists, veins bulging, and his eyes were bloodshot.

Clara staggered out of the room, her body trembling.

Their concern looked so real.

And yet, I felt nothing.

—

When I woke up again, it was the next day. Outside the hospital room, I could hear Clara and Wyatt talking.

"Honey, Jayce is already in this state. Are you sure we should still invite reporters to expose his... twisted sexual orientation and reckless promiscuity?"

Clara hesitated for a moment before responding firmly, "Yes! He’s already ruined, a little more filth won’t make a difference. Those software competition judges despise personal scandals. This will be a good opportunity to break his spirit—it’s for his own good."

Then, she added carefully, "Make sure the specialists are ready. The moment the reporters leave, they can start treating him."

Wyatt nodded repeatedly.

I lay motionless on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling.

Silent tears streamed down my face, burning hot.

Clara knew—she had always known.

She knew that I was switched at birth, that I suffered endless hardships growing up, that I had to work ten times harder than anyone else to become a software developer.

And yet, with a single sentence, she erased everything I had built.

If I had known that returning to my biological family would be worse than death, I would have rather been beaten to death by my adoptive father back then.

—

An hour later, a swarm of reporters suddenly burst into my hospital room.

They came armed with cameras, microphones—men and women alike—rushing toward me like a pack of bloodthirsty bats.

Panic seized me. My face turned deathly pale, and my broken body couldn’t even flinch.

"Mr. Evans, rumors say you prefer men and deliberately sought out muscular partners, landing yourself in the hospital. Would you say this is karma? How do you feel about it?"

"With such promiscuity, did you use your ‘skills’ in bed to secure your position as a software developer?"

"Mr. Evans, you can’t even move now—have you been left completely crippled? Do you have unirary incontinence?"

As they spoke, one of the reporters suddenly reached out and yanked away the thin blanket covering me.

I wasn’t wearing anything—my injuries made it impossible.

Humiliation crashed over me like a tidal wave. My chest tightened. My breath came in painful gasps.

"Oh god, how disgusting! So many wounds!"

"Tsk tsk, his limbs are completely deformed. Pretty face, but a total freak. Quick, take as many pictures as you can—pure gold for the headlines!"

Their sneers and contempt cut into me like knives, stabbing straight into my chest.

I wanted them to leave. But my throat felt clogged—thick with the taste of blood.

"Mr. Evans, are you refusing to answer because we hit the mark? Were you born to do this?"

Seeing my panic, a cameraman shoved the lens in my face and began a live broadcast.

"Renowned software developer Jayce Evans has a promiscuous lifestyle, and twisted sexual orientation. Let this be a warning to the public—treasure your bodies. Don’t end up like Jayce, crippled from reckless indulgence."

I was nothing more than a stripped-down clown, unable even to curl up in humiliation.

The relentless camera flashes immortalized my most wretched, disgraceful moment.

"What the hell are you doing?! Who let you in here?!"

Wyatt burst in, his voice thunderous as he ordered them out.

Clara rushed forward, shrugging off her coat and wrapping it tightly around me. Tears streamed down her face as she scolded the guards.

"Where the hell are the bodyguards? Are they dead?! How could you let the press in? Fire them all—get them out of my sight!"

Their performance was flawless—so flawless that it made me sick.

I couldn't stop trembling.

Clara gripped my freezing hand, her eyes filled with guilt. "Jayce, I’m so sorry... It’s my fault for not protecting you, for letting these reporters take advantage of the situation. Don’t be afraid—I’ll suppress the news. I swear, I won’t let anyone tarnish your name. I promise, I will never let you suffer again."

How laughable.

The same sister who swore to shield me from suffering had inflicted the greatest humiliation of my life.

She knew—better than anyone—that those reporters had already captured everything they wanted.

My reputation was ruined. I would forever be branded as a disgrace, shunned like a rat in the streets just as she wished. Trampled into the dirt.

For Henry’s sake, the two people closest to me had destroyed me completely.

The shock was too much. My battered body couldn't take it anymore, and I passed out.

Just before losing consciousness, I heard Clara's panicked screams as the specialists, who had been waiting just outside, rushed in.

"We’ve delayed too long. His intestines have started to rot—we need to remove the damaged sections. Even if we repair his limbs, he might never regain full function. He’ll likely be wheelchair-bound for life. The situation is critical—we've already missed the optimal window for treatment. The success rate of the surgery is only fifty percent."

Clara’s voice trembled with disbelief. "No... How could this happen? You must save my brother, no matter what it takes!"

She never let go of my hand, sobbing as she whispered, "Jayce, you have to hold on. I can’t lose you."

Wyatt’s voice was hoarse with emotion as he said, "Jayce, we promised each other—we’d be each other’s best men, standing together on our wedding days. I won’t allow you to leave me behind."

I closed my eyes, feeling the barren emptiness in my chest.

—

When I woke up, I was back in my hospital room.

Aside from my slightly less-injured left hand, my entire body was wrapped in bandages.

Wyatt sat beside the bed. The moment he saw me awake, his face lit up in relief. "Jayce! You’re finally awake! Do you feel any pain? Are you hungry? Do you want some water?"

His usual concern was laced with careful, uneasy guilt.

I suddenly wanted to laugh.

They were the ones who had ruined me, left me less than human. And now that they had gotten what they wanted, they dared to act remorseful? Who were they trying to fool?

I forced a weak smile, my cracked lips barely moving. "Get some sleep. Those dark circles—how are you supposed to be a groom like that?"

Wyatt visibly relaxed at my attempt at humor. He lay down on the bedside cot and soon drifted into a steady sleep.

Watching his even breaths, I slowly reached for the phone he had left on the nightstand.

The moment I unlocked it, the screen lit up with his wallpaper—a photo of the three of them.

Henry stood in the middle, grinning widely, an arm slung around each of them.