Leon Vincent, the shark of Warren Street, is the one who raised me.

Twelve years ago, a fire tore through the orphanage and took everything from me. He was the one who pulled me out of the flames and gave me a second chance at life.

To repay him, we make a weird deal—a 99-debt contract. I have to either obey him or be abandoned 99 times. After that, the debt will be cleared.

Every time he goes on a date with some high-society socialite, he'll toss another insanely expensive piece of jewelry into my safe.

In just two short years after turning 18, I've accumulated 96 diamonds in my safe, each one marking the 96 times he's cast me aside.

One day, his fiancee, Elena Harrington, sends me a provocative email.

"Dearest Isabelle, Leon and I are finalizing the wedding invitations. Do you think velvet with gold foil or matte leather would be more elegant? The ceremony's early next month. Can't wait to see you there! Love, Elena."

Right after that, Leon calls, asking me to pack his bags for the summit in Parienne tomorrow.

I simply send the wedding gift I've prepared in advance—a seven-figure emerald necklace—straight to his darling Elena without any words.

That night, Leon returns to the apartment and finds out what I've done. He praises me for being considerate. Late into the night, he pulls me into his arms with rare tenderness.

Nothing is left between us; no clothes, no holding back. He whispers that he wants to give me a special kind of reward, one that only I can carry.

Somehow, Elena discovers my pregnancy. She stands on the balcony of Vincent Estate, screaming like her life depends on it. "Leon, I'm begging you! Don't let her have that baby! If you do, I'll jump!"

The cold and proud Leon begs me, for the first time, to get rid of the baby. Everyone at the party awaits my breakdown, but I just smile softly and nod. "Alright. I will."

He whispers in my ear, "Our marriage is just a business arrangement. I don't even like her. Once we're divorced, I'll give you another baby."

What he fails to realize is that it was never in my plans to keep this one.

There are only three more times left before I pay off this life debt from when he pulled me out of that fire all those years ago.

After the 99th time, I board a ship bound for Azara to join a medical research mission. From that moment on, my life will be mine alone to live for.

Twelve years ago, Leon pulled me out of a burning building and raised me. I decided that after the 99th time he cast me aside, I would walk away for good.

…

I finally stepped into St. Sire Private Clinic in New Lyon. Alone, I scheduled the abortion procedure and signed my name, Isabella Rossi, on the consent form. This was my final chance—to him, and to myself.

At the end of the hallway, a few elegantly dressed socialites were whispering to the nurse, stealing glances at me.

"That's her," one of them murmured. "Leon Vincent's ward in a gilded cage."

"I heard she's extremely ambitious. Did she really think she could compete with the daughter of the Harringtons?"

"She really doesn't know her place, does she? A lowborn orphan girl thinking she can climb the ladder by getting pregnant with Mr. Vincent's child? What a joke."

I didn't even look their way. I kept my head down, held in everything I was feeling, and walked straight out of the hospital.

Back at the penthouse, the butler, Frank, greeted me at the door with his usual formality. In his hands, he held a royal blue velvet box.

"Ms. Rossi, Mr. Vincent just had this delivered for you," he said.

I opened the box, and inside was a 17-carat cushion-cut pink diamond that sparkled so bright it almost hurt to look at.

Frank's eyes lit up with barely hidden envy. "Mr. Vincent always saves the very best for you. You're fortunate, Ms. Rossi."

I gave him a faint smile, walked into the dressing room, and opened the safe. I placed the pink diamond in an empty slot, then stuck a small label beneath it: 97/99.

As always, this was Leon's way of "making up" for either his affection or his betrayal.

Just as I shut the safe, my phone buzzed with a new email. The sender was Elena, Leon's fiancee.

Attached was a photo of a sunset over the Halston River in the background. Leon was shirtless, his muscles sharply defined. His head was lowered as he kissed Elena, who was curled up in his arms.

She was wearing only one of his white dress shirts. Her legs were wrapped around his waist and her eyes were hazy as she looked straight into the camera.

The email read, "Dear Isabella, here's a photo from our yacht party. Leon's body looks amazing, doesn't it? By the way, I attached an invitation to the Vincent family's private celebration. You must come."

…

The next day, Vincent Estate was buzzing. Nearly every high-society name in New Lyon had shown up for this engagement party between Leon and Elena. She raised her glass and flashed me a sweet, victorious smile.

"Everyone, according to the Vincent family tradition, Isabella, as Leon's former ward, should be the one to pour our celebratory champagne and cut the cake for us. Isn't that right, Leon?"

All eyes instantly turned to me. Leon looked at me for a moment, then shifted his gaze to Elena and nodded.

I said nothing and stepped forward.

As I poured the second glass of champagne, Elena suddenly "slipped". The champagne and the massive cream cake came crashing down on me, the icy liquid and sticky frosting soaking and dirtying my expensive gown in seconds.

To make things even more dramatic, Elena let out a sudden shriek. Everyone turned and saw a thin trail of blood running down the back of her left hand, supposedly from a shard of glass.

She clutched her hand, her eyes filled with tears. "Isabella! How could you do something like this at our party? Are you trying to jinx us?"

Leon immediately stepped forward, pulling her into his arms and gently cradling her "injured" hand.

Then, he shot me a glare and spoke in a cold voice. "Elena's been pampered her whole life. She's too delicate for your petty schemes, Isabella!"

His fiancee was trampling on my dignity, humiliating me in front of everyone. And yet, he was the one accusing me of being petty and malicious.

He raised his voice again. "Isabella, apologize to Elena now!"

I glanced at Elena's smug expression from within his arms, then looked straight at her. "I'm sorry, Ms. Harrington."

Around us, guests had begun whispering behind their champagne glasses. "How vicious. She even hurt Ms. Harrington."

"That bitch must be out of her mind, trying to climb her way up by sleeping with her guardian."

"She's just a lowborn orphan Mr. Vincent took in. How could she ever compare to someone as noble as Elena Harrington?"

"She really thought living with the Vincent family made her royalty. No matter how she dresses up, she'll always be a lowborn at heart."

Leon carefully held Elena's hand, gently helping her as they walked off to get her wound cleaned. When he overheard the guests' whispers, his expression darkened.

"Mind your business, and get out of the way!" he barked.

The crowd scattered in an instant. Elena glanced back at me, her eyes full of smug satisfaction.

After the party, Leon caught up with me in the hallway and wrapped an arm around my waist from behind. His warm lips brushed my ear as he whispered, "Don't be mad, my dear Isabella. Just hold on a little longer. Once I've secured control of Harrington Group's assets, I'll divorce her.

"You know I don't love her. I've only ever loved you. Just bear with it a little longer."

Unbeknownst to him, I was thoroughly done. Once I repaid what I owed him, I would leave for good.

The next morning, I saw Elena in the dining room. She wore Leon's silk robe that had a loose neckline, revealing a fresh love bite on her neck.

"Morning, Isabella," she said with a smug smile. "Leon says this looks better on me than it ever did on you."

I kept my head down, sipping my black coffee in silence.

"Enjoy your last few days in this penthouse," she added, then strolled out with her coffee, triumph written all over her face.

Just as I put my cup down, a velvet box appeared before me. Leon had given me a tiara, set with a rare and sizable tanzanite that shimmered a deep blue-violet under the morning light.

"Isabella, I'm sorry about yesterday," he said softly. "I swear I won't let her hurt you again. Please forgive me, okay? Here—let me put this on you."

I tilted my head ever so slightly, dodging his hand. He froze, seemingly stunned, like he couldn't comprehend what had just happened.

"Ms. Harrington's waiting. You should go."

He hesitated for a moment, then handed me the box. "Wear it for me tonight, when I get back."

I closed the box without a word and walked to the safe. There, I added a new label: 98/99.

Only one more to go.

With everything in place, I went alone to the appointment I had made at St. Sire Private Clinic. The procedure was quick—one sharp, hollow pain twisted in my abdomen, then it faded into numb stillness. Just like that, I was alone again. With it, something inside me had died too.

I dragged my weak body back to the penthouse. The moment I pushed open the door to my bedroom, I froze. Scattered across the carpet were pieces of shattered metal and glass.

My "Breakthrough in Pharmaceutical Science" trophy from university, the only honor I had earned with my own hands, was now crushed into a pile of worthless fragments.

Elena was just about to head out, her purse slung over one shoulder, when she saw me. She wore a smug smile as she taunted, "Oh, hi, Isabella. I did you a little favor and cleared out your trash."

She shrugged innocently. "It was just a gold-plated cup. Cheap things like that certainly don't belong in a home that Leon and I share."

I roared, "That was my trophy!"

"Oh. You really think he'd condemn me over that pathetic scrap of metal?"

My hands shook as I dropped to the floor, trying to pick up the sharp, glinting shards scattered around her feet. Suddenly, she collapsed onto the ground, letting out a soft gasp.

At that moment, Leon stepped out of the study and witnessed the misleading scene just in time. He frowned as he looked at the smashed trophy pieces around Elena and my pale face.

I had assumed he would've at least asked what happened, but he didn't. He only walked past me and gently helped Elena up from the floor.

"Leon, I accidentally knocked over her trophy… Isabella only got mad because of that. Please don't hold it against her," she said innocently.

"It was wrong of Elena to knock it over, but that doesn't mean you should push her over a trophy, Isabella. Now, apologize."

He added, somewhat impatiently, "Don't worry—I'll have a designer custom-make you a new one, something better than that old thing."

For the first time, I looked him straight in the eye. In those eyes, all that was left was indifference, a half-hearted attempt to keep the peace.

Three years ago, after I led my team through a sleepless month to finally complete our project, it was Leon who personally walked me onto that stage to accept the award and witnessed the honor.

That night, he rented out the billboards just to replay the announcement of my name. Fireworks had lit up the New Lyon sky like a celebration meant only for me.

Back then, his eyes were filled with nothing but me. He had said, "My princess, you deserve all the best things this world can offer."

Ever since Elena appeared, though, his gaze slowly shifted. Now, every promise he once made was nothing more than broken shards on the floor.

"Don't bother, Mr. Vincent," I said quietly. "Thank you for everything over the years."

Leon's face dropped instantly. The way I addressed him so formally had seemingly struck a nerve. For the first time, real panic flickered across his expression. He finally sensed something amiss…

"Isabella, you don't look so well. You're pale and—" he called out.

"Leon, honey…" Elena interrupted sweetly. "My foot hurts. I think I twisted it when I fell earlier."

Just like that, his attention shifted. He turned away from me and scooped Elena up, already on his way out the door. All I got in return was a hollow sentence tossed over his shoulder. "You should take the time to calm down. We'll talk later."

Two days later, Elena sent over a photo. She and Leon were wrapped around each other in a passionate kiss as they stood at the edge of a private yacht. I stared quietly at the photo, then opened my laptop.

In the browser, I typed, "Azara Tropical Disease Research Program Application". I filled it in, pressed "Confirm", and submitted it.

That was it. It was time to go.

I began packing my luggage. Moments later, Frank rushed in, panic evident on his face. "Ms. Rossi, have you seen the news?"

I pulled out my phone to check the trending news. Then, I saw the top finance headline in bold text.

"Leon Vincent's Ward, Isabella Rossi, Accused of Repaying Kindness With Betrayal—Suspected of Leaking Core Pharmaceutical Data, Causing Vincent Group Over 100 Million Dollars in Losses."

The accompanying image was my university ID photo. The next news alert immediately took over the screen.

"Socialite Elena Harrington Hospitalized Due to Emotional Distress as Vincent Group Stock Plunges—Blamed on Betrayal by Leon Vincent's Ward, Isabella Rossi."

The photo showed her in a hospital gown, leaning weakly near a window with tears in her eyes. Her talent for drama and framing was unreal.

I switched off my phone, folded the last outfit I had packed, and put it into my suitcase.

Subsequently, I learned that the Drake family, Vincent Group's business rivals, who had long coveted the latter's shares, had seized the moment to strike. They demanded Leon publicly sever ties with me immediately, or they would cancel a multi-billion-dollar deal.

At that moment, Elena's call came through to Leon's phone.

She cried, pleading, "Leon, for the sake of the Vincent family, you must cut ties with her! Tell everyone she has nothing to do with you and with us! If you don't, the company's finished!"

At 3:00 pm, Leon held an emergency press conference. Facing the media, he made a public statement. "We deeply regret Ms. Isabella Rossi's actions. Everything she did was purely personal and had nothing to do with me or the Vincent family.

"From this moment on, I'm officially terminating all guardianship over her. Given the 12 years I acted as her guardian, I won't pursue any legal action against her."

I stared at the TV screen and at the man I had loved for ten years. Right now, he felt like a complete stranger.

I picked up a pen and wrote on the last label stuck to the safe: 99/99.

"This is the last time, Leon. We're even now."

What flashed through my mind at that moment was the fire at the orphanage 12 years ago. He had come through the flames like some kind of angel and pulled me out, saving my life.

He sent me to the best schools, let me study medicine, which I loved the most, and watched me hold up that trophy I had worked so hard for—the same one he was once proud of.

I still remembered the way he had cupped my face, looking so serious when he vowed, "Once the time comes, we'll get married. I'll give you the grandest wedding in all of New Lyon and make you the happiest woman in the world."

We had a deal, a 99-debt contract. Once he either abandoned or commanded me 99 times, the debt would be settled.

For years, he never used a single one. But in just two short years after I turned 18, he abandoned me 99 times. Now, he had pushed me away for good and made me lose our baby, just to protect another woman.

As the final touch, he reciprocated with the most public, brutal humiliation possible. My heart died right along with that unborn child.

I opened the drawer and took out the documents I had already prepared—my ID and passport. Then, I picked up a silver box, which consisted of the broken trophy, the abortion report, and the ledger page marked "99". Along with the key to the safe, I handed it all to Frank, who was waiting at the door.

I didn't keep a single thing Leon gave me.

I turned to Frank and said, "Please tell Mr. Vincent the debt has been paid."

I glanced one last time at the luxurious penthouse I had lived in for 12 years and added, "And tell him I never want to see him again."

A plain sedan carried me away, headed for the port. There, a medical research vessel bound for Azara awaited me.

…

Night fell, and Leon returned to the penthouse.

The lights, once always left on for him, were now off. The person who used to wait for him, no matter how late, was gone.

For the first time, the air felt suffocatingly still. He looked around, then snapped at Frank, "Where's Isabella? Why isn't she home?"

Frank, eyes full of sorrow, silently handed over the silver box in his hands. "Mr. Vincent… Ms. Rossi said not to look for her anymore. She left this behind before leaving."

Leon opened the silver box, and the first thing that caught his eye was the shattered trophy. He reached in and pushed the fragments aside, revealing a folded piece of paper underneath.

It was the hospital report for the termination of pregnancy. Beneath that, weighed down by the report, was a torn page from a ledger.

On it, bold, harsh handwriting chronicled every single wound—from the first, all the way to the 99th. At the very end, a heavy, deliberate line read, "99th time: Public execution."

The 99-debt contract he had once used to fool an innocent girl and the 99 gifts he had given had now become marks on my tally of pain.

His hands started trembling uncontrollably. The silver box slipped from his shaking fingers, and the broken trophy pieces and abortion report scattered across the floor.

Leon stood frozen. For the first time, his heart twisted with a strange, ripping agony. A guttural, painful groan escaped his lips.