On the day we were supposed to register for our marriage license, Rufus abandoned me in the wilderness to care for his feverish sweetheart.

In the pouring rain, I nearly lost my life to a gang of thugs, while he was at home making chicken soup for his precious girl.

From outside the open kitchen, I could hear him patiently soothing her on the phone, "I didn’t register my marriage with Emilia and I won’t marry her. The one I love is you, only you."

He went on, "When you left, I didn’t have the ability to keep you. But now, I'm the CEO of one of the top 500 companies in the country. I can give you a life of luxury, so please don't let insignificant people stand in our way, okay?"

"Aileen, let me take care of you," he added at the end.

After hearing all this, I lost all hope and had my wealthy grandpa, Duke Sieghart, remove Rufus from his CEO position.

Alright, let’s see how long their happiness lasts.

Part 1

"Grandpa, I want Rufus removed from his position as CEO of Prospera Holdings."

Rufus had just reached the pinnacle of his career by becoming the CEO of Prospera Holdings. If my grandpa stripped him of that title, it would be a crushing blow.

"Millie-Bean, are you feeling unwell?" he asked, his calm tone laced with barely contained rage.

Then, in a voice that trembled with fury, he added, "That damn bastard Rufus had the nerve to secretly keep another woman! Watch me tear him apart!"

Though I’ve always kept my identity hidden and stayed on the periphery of Prospera Holdings, my grandpa knows exactly what I’m capable of.

Hearing the full extent of the situation, my grandpa’s anger flared immediately.

"Grandpa, I’m fine. I’ll handle this with him myself."

My voice was hoarse and trembling, thick with congestion.

Knowing how stubborn I could be, Grandpa Duke sighed deeply, gave a few instructions and then hung up.

There I stood, disheveled, outside the open kitchen, glaring at Rufus as he calmly cooked chicken soup. The saddest part? He didn’t even care about me.

Rufus was my junior back in school.

It was during our sophomore year, at the school’s radio station recruitment interviews, that I fell for him at first sight. His looks were striking and his low, soothing voice completely captivated me.

Unfortunately, he didn’t make the cut. When I found out that he needed to work part-time to support himself, I secretly used my influence to ensure he passed the selection process. In the end, he even became the head of the radio station.

At the club's social event that night, I confessed to him, only to be met with a cold, indifferent rejection.

But I didn’t back down. I stubbornly pursued him, despite his continued distance and indifference.

Then one day, he nearly drowned in a valley. Without hesitation, I jumped into the river to save him, pulling him out even as my feet were cut and bleeding. I carried him all the way back to the guesthouse.

It was after that that he began to soften. He started to show concern for me, taking care of me in his detached way—yet, somehow, it made me feel as though I was being protected.

I thought that this was the dynamic he liked, that in his eyes, I was the exception and that exception was the beginning of love. At that time, I truly believed it.

Just as I thought our relationship might be warming up, he suddenly announced he was dating the most attractive senior in school.

Looking back now, I realize I was nothing more than a love-struck fool.

It was precisely because of his push-and-pull, that fickle attitude of getting close only to pull away, that stirred my heart, making my feelings so intense and confused.

It wasn’t until the club's end-of-year retreat before graduation that he suddenly sought me out, feeling down and asking me to talk with him.

He had drunk a lot. He told me his "campus beauty" girlfriend had betrayed him, complaining about his poverty and using underhanded tactics to steal the chance for a study abroad opportunity. He said he hated her!

Despite accusing her of all these hurtful things, there was only love in his eyes.

And from that day on, I silently vowed to show him, through my actions, that someone who truly loves you would never want to see you so heartbroken.

After graduation, he struggled to land a job, repeatedly failing interviews. The reasons varied—either he was too qualified for the position, or the salary wasn’t right, or the work itself wasn’t worthwhile.

After hitting rock bottom and ending up homeless, he watched with envy as others from his social circle thrived. Once again, he drank heavily at the bar, breaking down and confiding in me.

During his darkest times, with my companionship, he gradually pulled himself back up. Finally, he agreed to let me be his girlfriend.

I knew he dreamed of joining Prospera Holdings, one of the top 500 companies in the country and had even submitted his resume, only to be swiftly rejected. But that company was a part of my family’s conglomerate. So I secretly asked my influential grandfather, Grandpa Duke, to pull some strings and pave the way for him.

Three years passed and he rose from an entry-level employee to general manager with rocket-like speed.

On the day he received the promotion notice, I proposed to him in the office.

He agreed. I knew he was in high spirits.

I thought that finally, we had reached our happy ending.

Who would have thought that all of this was nothing more than a fleeting illusion? I was merely his toy to pass the time in his lonely, empty hours—love had nothing to do with it.

Rufus was so focused on simmering chicken soup that he didn’t even notice when I turned and left.

Not long after, I saw a post from Aileen on her social media. [Someone was so busy making chicken soup for me that he missed our appointment to pick up the marriage license—so spoiled!]

Attached was a selfie of Rufus and Aileen on a giant swing ride.

I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. Who goes on intense amusement park rides when they’re supposedly bedridden with a fever?

That night, Rufus came home very late. He didn’t care about leaving me behind halfway through our day, nor did he show any concern for our plans to register our marriage.

After he fell asleep, I used his fingerprint to unlock his phone. I had never looked through his phone before, but I noticed he’d never posted a single picture of us together.

In that moment, I realized he did post frequently on social media and he did share photos—but he’d just hidden them from me.

Soon enough, I came across a photo he’d posted with Aileen. Around her neck was the “Starlight” necklace—a piercing sight.

Just a few days earlier, I had seen that necklace in his desk drawer.

I thought it was a surprise he’d meant for me, to gift me personally after we registered our marriage.

But he’d given it to someone else.

It turned out he wasn’t lacking in romantic gestures; it just depended on the person.

Exhausted and emotionally drained, my cold worsened.

Rufus hadn’t noticed, nor did he seem to care. I was about to head to the hospital when my phone suddenly rang.

“Emilia, get over here quickly—Rufus is in serious trouble; he’s at the police station.”

On the other end, I could faintly hear Rufus’s furious voice in the background.

“You old fools, you owe my girlfriend an apology!”

My heart jolted hard.

I wasn’t there, so the girlfriend he was defending so fiercely… definitely wasn’t me.

I skipped going to the hospital, driven by a need to understand what could make him lose his composure like this.

As I tossed the painkiller box aside, I noticed the brown prayer beads I had once begged for at the temple a year ago, praying for his safety. They lay broken and discarded under the edge of the coffee table.

I gave a bitter smile—those beads had taken nearly everything from me, a prayer I had nearly sacrificed myself for.

Yet he didn’t care for them in the slightest.

I stooped down, picked up the worn-out prayer beads and without a word, threw them into the trash.

Then I stepped outside and hailed a cab to the police station.

The moment I stepped into the police station, I spotted a woman softly coaxing him, her eyes full of tenderness.

Around her neck was that extravagant "Starlight" necklace.

Part 2

“It started when someone from our company’s HR team, under the guise of a work discussion, started harassing Rufus’s friend—and even threw dishes at them. Furious, Rufus couldn’t hold back and got into a fight with them.”

“To make things worse, everyone had been drinking a bit and after Rufus ate that exotic wild mushroom, he started acting strange. No one could restrain him—I was afraid something serious might happen.”

A colleague of his, also a close friend, hurried over to me, offering a rushed explanation.

So this was why he’d lost control. I couldn’t help but let out a bitter laugh.

I remembered the times I had dined with other company leaders; once, when we disagreed, they deliberately dumped food on my head.

He hadn’t shown a shred of anger then. Instead, he’d turned the blame on me, accusing me of failing to read the room and saying I was ruining his chances of advancing in the company.

Maybe he really had eaten a bad mushroom, because now he was hallucinating, grabbing the nearest officer as if to start a fight. His colleague quickly held him back, saying, “Rufus! Enough already. Your career’s taking off, you’re about to get married—if you keep causing a scene, you’ll ruin everything!”

Rufus shook off his friend, gritting his teeth, "Who said I'm getting married?!"

"This bunch of old fools actually had the nerve to hit on my girlfriend in front of me, thinking they're so important! Next Monday, when I officially take over, I’ll fire every last one of you!"

"I don’t care how many of you there are—no one leaves here until you all kneel down and apologize!"

His righteous, yet completely out-of-place words left my colleagues who knew me feeling uncomfortable.

Feeling the weight of everyone's gaze on me, I coldly curled my lips into a faint smirk.

"Long time no see, Emilia." Aileen’s voice was full of familiarity. She looked at me with an air of superiority, her eyes filled with disdain and provocation.

My expression turned cold and I pressed my lips together in silence.

"You two know each other?" a colleague asked, surprised, then added excitedly, "What a coincidence! Emilia Shen is Rufus’s fiancée, they..."

"We’re just colleagues! Fiancée?!" Rufus snapped, his voice rising in anger, cutting off my colleague’s words.

His sudden denial made my whole body freeze.

The situation felt strange and the atmosphere grew painfully awkward.

After a moment of silence, one of my colleagues noticed my change in expression and quickly poured me a glass of water.

"Here, sister. Drink this, you’ll feel better."

I reached out to take the cup, but Rufus forcefully knocked it out of my hand, splashing water everywhere.

He was seething, shaking his head in frustration as he snapped, “What’s the point of giving her a drink? Don’t you know your sister-in-law took antibiotics with cephalosporins this morning? And now you’re trying to give her alcohol—what’s your game here?”

It seemed the mushrooms' effects weren’t too strong; Rufus’s rationality and memory hadn’t been clouded yet. A small part of me still felt a sense of relief.

But what happened next completely caught me off guard.

"Rufus, you misunderstood," Aileen said, trying to explain. "Luca was handing the water to Emilia, not me. And it’s just warm water, you fool. Why are you worrying about me when she’s the one poisoned?"

Once Rufus heard the first part, his expression softened.

"Alright, fine. If it’s water, then she can drink it. She could drink a thousand cups and still be fine!"

"At the company, no one can outdrink her—she’s the best at it!"

Without realizing it, I clenched my fists, the pain in my chest so intense that it left me struggling to breathe.

I remember two years ago, on the birthday of the company’s vice president. That day, I had accidentally injured my leg and went to the hospital for a bandage and some cephalosporin painkillers, planning to sleep it off. But he dragged me out to join the festivities.

It was a massive pool party and he knew the vice president was interested in me, so he used me to set up a connection.

Dizzy and out of it, he pushed me toward that old man, making me toast him, even forcefully pouring alcohol down my throat.

That day, I ended up in the emergency room. He blamed me for embarrassing him, saying the vice president would surely make things difficult for him and that his promotion was now out of reach.

He didn’t care that I’d nearly been through death’s door. He just left in a bad mood, slamming the door behind him.

It’s clear now—his heart was never with me.

And this time, I had come here still holding onto that last shred of hope.