Logan began to accept me. He even learned to say he loved me.

And when he discovered my parents favored my sister and disliked me, he would say he felt sorry for me.

I thought I had truly entered his heart. I never imagined there was already someone else living there—his childhood sweetheart, the girl born with congenital heart disease.

Because of her clumsy little performances, he made me back down again and again.

He always said, "Shirley, Jillian's father died saving me. And she has a heart condition. Can't you just give in to her?"

So for Logan's sake, I yielded.

Over and over.

But Jillian was never satisfied.

The final straw came during our engagement banquet.

In front of everyone, Jillian accused me of stealing her father's keepsake—a pearl necklace.

And sure enough, it was "found" in my handbag.

Except when they took it out, it had already been broken.

Pearls scattered across the floor like evidence of a crime.

Right on cue, Jillian clutched her chest and had a heart attack, sobbing that she was about to die.

That was the first time Logan hit me.

Without saying a word, he slapped me. Hard.

Then he ordered coldly, "Shirley, apologize."

"It's one thing for you to be jealous normally, but the one thing you should never touch is Jillian's father's keepsake."

"You're truly a vicious monster. No wonder your parents don't like you."

"Today, you will kneel and apologize to Jillian—until she chooses to forgive you."

That was the moment my heart froze.

Eyes burning red, I screamed, "I won't apologize, Logan!"

"Because I didn't do it."

"If you don't believe me, check the surveillance cameras."

For a moment, I saw hesitation flicker across his face. But Jillian's cries of pain grew louder.

Panicked, Logan lifted her into his arms—and completely forgot about the surveillance footage.

He looked at me with deep disappointment. "Shirley, you really are hopeless."

"You could've ended this with a simple apology, and instead you choose this?"

"I think the Martin and Gomez family union needs to be reconsidered. And there's no need for an engagement banquet anymore..."

My heart went cold. Completely cold.

Only then did I finally realize—Logan had never loved me.

Between me and Jillian, he never once chose me.

Just like my parents. Between me and my sister, they always chose her.

I heard myself say, "Then let's break off the engagement!"

Logan froze. He stared at me for a long time, then suddenly let out a cold laugh. "Fine."

"Remember, this is your choice."

"But Shirley—if you did something wrong, you must apologize. Otherwise, I'll make sure you learn what it means to offend me, Logan Martin."

His words sounded like a curse.

But back then, I was young and arrogant. I didn't understand the weight of those words. I thought—I have hands, I have feet, I have an education. How bad could life be after leaving him?

I never knew... It could be that bad.

Once I was kicked out of the Gomez family, stripped of my status as the daughter of the Gomez family and the future daughter-in-law of the Martin family... I could barely take a single step.

And with Logan spreading the word that he'd "teach me a lesson," forget finding a job—I couldn't even find a place to stay.

During that time, just to survive, I ended up selling drinks in bars.

And Logan made sure I saw everything.

He publicly declared his love for Jillian on social media, announcing that she was the future young madam of the Martin family.

He handed her endless resources—lifting a girl who couldn't even recite a full line of dialogue... and turning her into an award-winning actress.

After that, I drifted from place to place until I finally escaped here.

I never expected that I would run into them again—the people who were nothing short of a nightmare to me.

But it was fine. I'm going to die soon anyway. They won't be able to hurt me anymore.

When I regained consciousness, I was lying on a hospital bed.

My phone suddenly rang. I answered it, only to realize it was the owner of the pet hospital.

"Miss Gomez, do you still want Lucky to live or not?"

"You've owed the one-thousand-dollars treatment fee for how long already? Why haven't you sent it?"

"I'm warning you, I've stopped his medication. If you don't transfer the money soon, I'll kick the dog out today. Let it fend for itself."

My heart clenched so hard I almost cried. "No—please don't. My salary is coming out today."

"I'll go ask my manager right now and send Lucky's treatment fee immediately."

"Please don't throw him out."

The voice on the other end was impatient, "Fine. I'll give you a few more hours."

"But listen well—if you don't pay by the end of today, I won't care anymore."

"This is a pet hospital, not a charity."

After scolding me a few more times, he hung up.

Staring at the dark screen, I immediately dialed my store manager.

Yes—even though I didn't get the thousand-dollars tip, today was payday.

Even without commission, my base salary was three thousand two hundred dollars.

It was enough to cover Lucky's medical bills, and buy him plenty of dog food. Enough to entrust him to Granny Linda, the kind old lady who collected recyclables and stray dogs.

And with the leftover money... I could buy myself a cheap urn.

I was planning everything with a strange, peaceful joy—but the manager's next words made me feel like I had plunged into an ice pit.

"I'm sorry, Shirley... we can't pay you your wages."

My voice cracked in disbelief. "Why? Even without commission, I still have a base salary of 3,200. And I helped you close such a big order last night!"

Logan and Jillian were respectable people. After making such a scene yesterday—even if it was to humiliate me, they definitely paid for the shoes.

There was no way I wasn't getting my wages!

My manager sounded troubled. "It's because of that big order last night. Shirley... how did you offend Mr. Martin?"

"He topped up two million here last night. But his only condition—was that we can't give you a single cent."

"He even said that if you make a fuss, we shouldn't worry. The Martin family will take responsibility for all consequences."

"Shirley, I really can't help it. The Martin family isn't someone I can afford to offend. I know you're upset—look, I'll cover your IV bill from last night, okay?"

The manager kept talking, but I couldn't hear anything anymore.

Pain exploded in my head. Something seemed stuck in my chest—unable to go up or down. Before I realized it—bright red blood had already sprayed out of my mouth.

A nurse screamed and rushed over. "Miss, what happened? Do you need help?"

"No!" I waved frantically, refusing her. "I just feel a little unwell. It'll go away soon."

She frowned, worried. "Really?"

I nodded quickly. "Really. See? I'm fine now."

After saying that, I pulled out the IV needle and walked out of the hospital.

Of course, it wasn't fine. It wasn't fine at all.

The pain was killing me.

My heart hurts, my body hurts.

But with not a single cent to my name, how could I dare stay in the hospital any longer?

No matter how sad or how painful it was, I just had to endure it.

I could endure it. But what about Lucky?

Pancreatitis was agonizing. And he was such a tiny little dog. He couldn't bear it.

I still remember the first time I met him.

He was a stray himself—skinny, shivering. But when he saw me sleeping under the overpass, he dragged his own little cardboard box over and pushed it toward me.

After that... he never left even though I tried to chase him away countless times.

Because someone like me—who could barely feed myself—how could I dare take care of a dog? But no matter how many times I chased him off, he would always follow behind me quietly.

When I woke up early to deliver milk, he would crawl up with sleepy eyes and see me off.

When I worked night shifts, he would sneak along beside me, keeping watch.

There was one night I got off too late. Two drunken thugs saw me walking alone and tried to harass me.

Lucky went crazy—charging at them and scaring them off. He didn't even care that he got kicked twice.

No one had ever loved me so unconditionally. It took only a moment for me to decide I would keep him. But Lucky wasn't healthy either.

When I was diagnosed with late-stage breast cancer, I wanted to find him a new owner.

I thought, if I could entrust him to someone good... then I could leave this world without regrets.

But then he suddenly developed pancreatitis.

And sick dogs... no one wanted them.

The adopter who had already agreed refused to take him.

So I worked desperately, trying to earn enough money to treat him.

I thought—after he recovered, I could give him away. But now, even that hope had been taken from me by Logan.

If he wanted to force me to death, that was fine. But he also wanted to kill my Lucky.

For what?

Was it just because, when I was young and foolish, I dared to love him? Did that mean I deserved all of this?

Even if I had offended him, I could pay with my life.

But Lucky... I would never let him suffer for my mistakes.

I decided to confront Logan and put an end to this.