Harrison's POV

I was undergoing a painless gastroscopy at my wife’s hospital. But when I woke up, the first thing I realized was that my head had been completely shaved.

“Thank you for sponsoring this wig, man.”

Standing beside the hospital bed, my wife’s male assistant, Logan Price, was gripping a bag of hair, grinning from ear to ear.

“Since you have no hair left, I’ll attend tonight’s banquet in your place,” he added cheerfully. “That way, Abigail won’t lose face.”

Furious, I lunged forward, ready to slap him.

But my wife arrived just in time and blocked me.

“You’re a grown man. Can’t you take a little joke?” she snapped. “Besides, hair grows back. What are you getting so worked up about? Was it really necessary to lose your temper at Logan?”

Her delicate brows knitted together as she firmly shielded Logan behind her.

My expression turned icy. Before I could say a word, Logan tossed the hair into the air.

“Why the rush? I’m giving it back, aren’t I? You’re so petty. Abigail and I were even thinking of getting matching tattoos,” he teased. “Surely, you'll become even more furious then.”

——

The scattered strands of hair felt like needles, stabbing straight into my heart. My body trembled slightly.

“Logan.” Abigail Mason’s expression finally grew serious. “You went too far.”

“Alright, alright.” Logan shrugged, spreading his hands as he yawned. “Fine, I’ll stop teasing you.”

He pulled out some cash and tossed it over.

“Here, seven bucks. Go buy yourself a wig. Consider it compensation for this prank.”

Anyone could tell that those two casual sentences weren’t an apology at all. Those were more like condescension, even pity.

Yet Abigail turned to me and said, “Alright, just take the money and let this go.”

Her blatant favoritism sliced into my heart like a knife.

Last time, when I accidentally knocked over Logan’s water cup, a simple apology and compensation weren’t enough. Abigail forced me to write a ten-thousand-word self-criticism and read it aloud in public.

When I refused, she smashed a crystal cup engraved with a famous athlete’s signature against me as punishment, then he joked that we were “even.”

And now she wanted to brush this off so easily.

I took a deep breath and looked straight at her. “He didn’t even say sorry. Is that what you call an apology? I want him to shave his head and write a ten-thousand-word self-criticism and read aloud in public.”

“What?!” Logan instantly put on a wronged expression. “Y-you… you’re bullying me! Shaving my head and confessing in public? How am I supposed to face people after that?”

As he spoke, he shot Abigail a pleading look.

I looked at her, too, with a complicated gaze.

First, I wanted to see what choice she would make.

Second, this was the very last chance left in our agreement.

Abigail frowned at me, her tone full of reproach. “Harrison, you’re putting me in a difficult position, and you’re suppressing a newcomer. Do you understand that? You used to say we should give newcomers more chances, not cut them down outright. So, why the sudden change? Besides, you’re Logan’s sponsor. You promised to help him become better!”

Those few sentences left me stunned, unable to respond for a moment.

Because she was right. I had said those things.

That was why I had paid all the college expenses for ten students, including Logan, and even helped them find jobs.

The other nine had settled into stable careers.

Only Logan was still drifting, miserable all day. He cried and begged me, asking to work at the hospital.

Witnessing that stirred Abigail’s sympathy.

In the end, I agreed.

When he later mixed up drug categories during procurement and caused a major loss, I didn’t even ask him to compensate.

So, why did I change my mind?

Harrison's POV

Because little by little, he crossed the line.

Instead of trying to improve himself, he spent all his energy clinging to Abigail, hoping to ride on her coattails. To make her laugh, he didn’t hesitate to humiliate me.

Eventually, it escalated into open provocation.

He slipped a cockroach into my lunchbox. He swapped the warm water in my cup for boiling water, nearly a hundred degrees.

And every time, it ended with the same excuse that it was just a prank.

I lost my temper more than once.

But Abigail only said, “That’s what young people are like, full of energy, lively, even cute.”

Even this time, I still foolishly held onto a sliver of hope that the ending would be different.

But how stupid and laughable I was to even dream of that.

“Dr. Mason, the surgery is about to begin.” A nurse’s voice cut through the tense silence.

“Let’s leave it at that,” Abigail said, glancing at me. “No one is to bring this up again.”

Then she grabbed Logan’s hand and added, “You’ll be my assistant today.”

“Okay,” Logan replied, but didn’t forget to shoot me a provocative look as he turned back. He even pushed the door wide open on purpose.

Outside, there were plenty of nurses and patients.

When they saw my shaved head, they froze for a second, then lowered their heads together, struggling not to laugh.

I clenched my fists but said nothing. With my bare head exposed, I walked out of the hospital.

The biting winter wind sliced across my scalp like a blade.

And yet, it made my mind clearer than ever.

I pulled out my phone and made a call. “Sis, help me deal with someone.”

“Who?” She answered with a single word—sharp, dangerous.

After all, she was a social powerhouse of the capital. Every rich young heir turned pale at the mention of her name.

“The person you hate most in that hospital.” I smiled faintly.

“Leave it to me!” She let out a laugh like a mischievous little devil.

A cold glint flashed in my eyes.

After all these years, it seemed Abigail had forgotten that I, too, had once clawed my way out of blood and violence like a tiger.

I was never a soft target.

After hanging up, I went home and pulled two notebooks from a drawer.

One had my name on it.

The other had Abigail’s.

When we got married, we made an agreement that whenever one of us was wronged, we’d record it on a page.

When the notebook was filled, it meant the chances were used up, and so was the love.

In the past, even when we argued or I felt hurt, I never wrote anything down because problems could be solved by talking, and there was no third person involved.

That was, until Logan started working at the hospital.

The first time I wrote in it, I only meant to warn Abigail, to tell her to rein it in.

But page after page, without realizing it, I reached the very last one, and this final page recorded every grievance I had left.

Just then, Logan sent me a message.

[Harrison, what do you think of this tattoo? Looks good?]

The picture showed half a maple leaf, with the letter “A” hidden inside.

The meaning was obvious.

It stood for Abigail.

Yet, I didn’t reply. Instead, I waited for Abigail to come home and tossed the notebook onto the table.

“Sign it and put your fingerprint on it.”

That was also part of our agreement that grievances had to be acknowledged by the other party.

“It’s the last page?” Abigail froze for a moment.

“What else would it be?” I narrowed my eyes, glancing at her right wrist.

A hint of a tattoo was visible there.

Noticing my gaze, she tugged down her sleeve. As she signed, she complained, “You’re getting more and more petty. You even write down this kind of trivial nonsense. Trying to threaten me with some crappy notebook? That trick stopped working a long time ago.”

She looked completely indifferent.

What she didn’t know was that I had always taken this seriously.

After signing and pressing her fingerprint, Abigail casually tossed the notebook back to me.

Harrison's POV

“Fine. Spend the rest of your life clinging to that pettiness of yours.”

With that, Abigail turned and went to take a shower.

My heart clenched sharply. After a long moment, I let out a quiet sigh.

The girl who once kissed me in the rain, who swore she would love only me for the rest of her life, had died somewhere in this chaotic, glittering world.

That night, Abigail opened the bedroom door.

But I never went in.

Early the next morning, my sister sent me a message.

[Bro, just wait and enjoy the show.]

I couldn’t help but feel a flicker of anticipation. Then I went to the hospital with Abigail.

As soon as we arrived, a nurse rushed over.

“Dr. Mason! Please go check on Mr. Price. Something’s happened to him!”

Abigail’s face changed instantly. She hurried after the nurse, nearly twisting her ankle in her panic.

I curled my lips into a faint smile and followed behind.

Inside the director’s office, Logan was hiding in the corner, wearing nothing but his underwear.

Not only his head, but even his eyebrows had been completely shaved off.

His entire body was covered in tattoos of half a butterfly.

The only difference was that the letters hidden inside the designs weren’t initials anymore.

They were replaced with words jerk, idiot, and gay.

I almost laughed out loud.

That was my little sister for you—truly worthy of her title as the Capital’s Social Powerhouse. This was exactly my kind of justice.

“Logan, who did this to you?”

Ignoring all propriety, Abigail rushed forward and pulled him into her arms, her eyes filled with pain and concern.

Logan lifted his head and stared straight at me. With absolute certainty in his voice, he pointed at me and accused, “It was you! No one else hates me enough to do this! I’m just a country bumpkin! I just like playing harmless jokes! Why would you make me suffer this kind of humiliation and torture? I just want to die! I want to die!”

As soon as he finished shouting, he scrambled to his feet and charged toward the window, only to be held back tightly by Abigail.

“Logan. Don’t be afraid. I’ll make sure you get justice.”

She kept comforting him. Her eyes brimmed with tears, and a few drops fell.

It dragged me right back to that rainy night.

Almost the same look, same expression.

So, that was it.

Her love had changed hands.

Her heart had flown far away.

“Harrison!” Abigail’s furious shout snapped me out of my thoughts. “I’m realizing you’re getting more and more vicious! Just because Logan shaved your head, you take it this far and bully him like this? Have you no shame?”

“He shaved my head,” I said coldly, letting out a laugh. “I returned the favor. Now we’re even. Besides, doesn’t he like getting couple tattoos with you? I just helped him out. One more tattoo means one more declaration of love for you.”

Abigail’s face darkened instantly. She clenched her teeth and said, “Logan and I are not that kind of relationship. I value his talent, potential, and thoughtfulness. Not someone like you—petty, unreasonable, always stirring up trouble. Not someone as malicious as you!”

I never imagined that one day, Abigail would describe me with words like these.

All that sincerity, fed straight to the dogs.

“Let’s get a divorce. If you think he’s so great, then go be with him,” I said with finality.

I didn’t want to waste any more breath arguing. I dropped those words and turned to leave.

But behind me, Logan’s dissatisfied voice rang out.

“Abigail, didn’t you say you’d get justice for me? You’re just letting him walk away like this? Won’t everyone think I’m easy to bully now? That they can humiliate me whenever they want? You lied to me! I really wish I could just die right now!”