Kate arrived, but she was accompanied by Vincent.

She was as stunning as ever, the kind of beauty that drew every man's gaze like a magnet.

I was no exception.

When Kate saw me on the track, her beautiful eyes widened with surprise.

Strangely, though, I felt an unexpected calm inside.

I thought, "I know her well, but does she really understand me?

Does she grasp that I am this wild, stubborn, and impulsive person?"

I didn't linger on her face; it seemed to unsettle her.

But I didn't turn back.

The starting gun fired, and I took off like an arrow from a bow, leaving Vincent far behind.

Rebecca had told me that Vincent was the favorite to win, but I just smirked.

The record I set ten years ago still stood unbroken.

Vincent and I charged towards the finish line, neck and neck.

I braked in time, but Vincent came speeding at me full throttle.

What a lunatic.

After a deafening crash, I felt a searing pain. The crowd gasped and screamed around me.

My vision blurred with blood, but I fought to open my eyes, searching for her.

Finally, I saw her by the side—Kate, holding Vincent's hand, her face etched with worry.

At that moment, I remembered her sitting by my bedside when I was sick, holding my hand and saying, "If we hold on tightly, I can share my health with you, and you'll get better sooner."

That was the young Kate, the one who loved me.

But where did she go?

No matter how hard I tried to find her now, she seemed to have vanished.

I thought, "Heaven, if you can hear me, please bring her back."

I lay in the hospital bed, awaiting the doctor's final verdict.

"Mr. Moore, the fracture in your leg has damaged the nerves. You might never be able to stand again."

As I realized I couldn't control my legs, a creeping fear began to set in.

But I'd been raised with the belief that men should never shed tears easily, so I urged myself to stay strong.

Yet, when the doctor delivered the final blow, my mind went blank.

I still wanted to stand up.

I had spent my life mastering horseback riding, skiing, skydiving, and racing—better than anyone else.

I was always the most celebrated heir among all the families.

I couldn't accept the idea of never standing again.

My emotions surged uncontrollably, and I finally broke down.

I swept everything off the table in a fury, sending fruit rolling everywhere.

I tried to get out of bed but crashed to the floor, the IV needle tearing from my arm and blood spilling out.

I just sat there, numb.

Then, a familiar, comforting scent filled my nostrils. I looked up to see Kate.

She wore no makeup, her hair tied back in a simple ponytail, and her eyes were puffy from tears.

She gently embraced me, and I felt her warmth, which brought me a measure of calm.

With the little strength I had, I clung to her tightly.

I pleaded, "I've got nothing left. Please don't leave me."

Yes, I was begging.

I had given up on pride.

Kate looked at me quietly, her eyes filled with a sadness I couldn't quite grasp.

She said, "Clark, I won't leave you. I'll stay with you through rehab until you're better.

"I've postponed all my work.

"No, I won't be a star anymore. We'll be just a regular couple.

"I'll be with you forever."

My heart warmed at her words.

But then, her next words felt like a dagger to my heart.

"Clark, I just hope you won't hold Vincent responsible. He's powerful, and we can't afford to cross him."

And with that, my heart shattered.

The love I had for her, so deep and self-sacrificing, was crushed by her own hands.

I gently pushed her away, trying to reclaim my shattered pride.

My expression remained impassive as I stared at her beautiful face, which was now filled with shock.

I thought, "Has she never considered that I might reject her embrace?"

I forced a smile. "Sorry, Ms. Winslet, but I have to refuse."

At this moment, I was a wreck, both physically and emotionally.

Words were all I had to mask my humiliation.

"Why? It's just a matter of not pursuing the case. All you need to do is sign the settlement agreement. We'll get you the best treatment," Kate implored, her disbelief palpable.

She hadn't expected me to be so stubborn.

"Did he send you to persuade me?" I asked, keeping my gaze lowered.

My fingers curled slightly, trying to reposition my deformed leg into a somewhat normal shape.

After a long silence, it dawned on me.

She was here for Vincent.

I had been nothing more than a pawn.

I thought, "Vincent must be delighted, crushing me under his heel."

Seeing my calm demeanor, Kate suddenly seemed rattled, as if something she had tightly held onto had slipped away.

The door to the room burst open.

Vincent entered with members of the event committee.

Standing by, they watched me with cold, dispassionate eyes.

"Have you made up your mind? Will you sign the papers?"

Their tone was a mix of cold authority and intimidation.

I threw the pen at their faces.

They threatened me, saying I couldn't afford to cross the young master of the Moore family and I was merely a disgraced agent.

They even forced my hand, pressing it down to leave a fingerprint.

Inside, I scoffed at their arrogance, seeing them as fools.

But I had to thank them for making me realize how crucial power really was.

Just then, the door flew open again, and an imposing elderly man entered, flanked by a group of sharply dressed individuals.

Rebecca followed behind them, her face grave.

The old man's voice was commanding. "Who here acknowledges that he is the young master of the Moore family?"

As I recognized the newcomer, tears welled up in my eyes.