Five years ago, my girlfriend, Stacie Garcia, got crippled in an attempt to save me.

Out of guilt, I stayed by her side and took on all the hardest grunt work so that I could use all of the money I've earned on her.

But when I'm in the middle of cleaning a Porsche's dealership, I witness Stacie flirting with another young man there. To my shock, she's even standing without any problems.

Stacie tells the man in a generous manner, "Which car do you have your eye on? I'll buy you any car no matter how expensive it is as long as you like it!"

"I want a million-dollar car. Are you going to buy one for me?"

When Stacie Garcia heard my trembling voice, she snapped her head toward me and shoved the man beside her away. The man looked vaguely familiar.

"What are you doing here, Callum? Let me explain—"

I looked at her, dressed in a custom designer outfit and adorned with jewelry worth millions of dollars on her hands. Then, I looked down at myself—draped in a filthy cleaning uniform, clutching a mop and rag.

I let out a bitter laugh. "Explain what? Explain how you can walk without a wheelchair, or why you're suddenly so rich?"

When she frowned nervously, I immediately dialed the orthopedic hospital.

The doctor answered with his usual impatient drawl. "Mr. Callum Brook, how many times do I have to tell you that Ms. Garcia's leg condition is neurological? It can't be cured anytime soon.

"Oh, and this month's treatment fee is due. Make sure you come by and pay soon."

I used to hang on every word the doctor said, but now, I just wanted to laugh coldly in this fraud's face.

So that was why Stacie refused when I suggested visiting specialists at a public hospital. They'd been working together to scam me the whole time.

I swallowed the boiling rage in my chest and flung the rag at her.

"Was it fun to see me deliver food, clean houses, and pick through trash every day? Everything you're wearing is worth over ten million dollars, so why are you lying to me?"

The thought of the past five years and everything I'd done just to pay for her treatment made my blood boil.

In a burst of anger, I grabbed the mop and swung it at Stacie, but the man beside her quickly reacted by snatching it away.

She took the chance to pull me aside. "Don't make a scene here, Callum. Let's go home and talk—"

"Go home?"

I wrenched my arm away and shoved her back. "Get as far away from me as possible, Stacie. I never want to see your face again!"

Stacie stared at me in a daze, and a flicker of guilt flashed in her eyes. But she gave up explaining and instead said in a low, placating tone, "I'll pay you back for everything and compensate you on top of that."

Just like that, she dismissed everything I'd suffered over the past five years. There wasn't even a simple apology.

Anger exploded in my head.

Without a second thought, I grabbed the bucket of dirty water at my feet and heaved it at the despicable pair.

With a splash, they were both drenched from head to toe in gray, soapy sludge.

The man finally snapped. He grabbed the mop and cursed as he charged at me, "You've got some nerve!"

He was halfway to me when Stacie blocked his path. Instead of saying anything, she just shook her head, and his expression turned purple with rage.

"Stacie! How could you let this poor loser pick on you this way?"

He tried to rush at me again, but she held him back. "It's okay, babe. I'll handle this, so don't worry."

Still, he refused to let it go. "I won't let him yell at you like that!"

She pulled him into her arms, kissing and soothing him until he finally calmed down.

The man swaggered over, tossed the mop at my feet, and looked at me with open contempt.

"So, you're Callum Brook?"

I froze. How did he know me?

He let out a short, disdainful laugh before turning to Stacie, his smirk triumphant. "I told you these low-lifes are a pain to deal with, and you just wouldn't listen!"

He turned and took a plush towel from a staff member before draping it over Stacie's shoulders. Then he began drying her off as if he were her husband.

As he fussed over her, he complained, "Honestly, Stacie, you overdid it. You were only supposed to play around for a few weeks, not five years.

"Now look. This loser's stuck on you."

After saying that, he even ruffled her hair like he was scolding a disobedient puppy.

Stacie let him do whatever he pleased, but her uneasy eyes were fixed on me.

The realization hit me like a blow. It turned out that all this time, I was nothing more than a toy and a prop in some flirtatious bet between a socialite and her rich heir boyfriend.

I was sure that the moment I stepped into the VIP suite, the man must have seen and recognized me, so he'd put on the whole act for me.

Seeing the color drain from my face, he smirked and stepped closer. "Callum, I'm Oliver Sterling. Do you remember me?"

Something in me snapped.

Oliver Sterling… Of course I remembered! It was only later that I found out he was the only son of Alistair Sterling, a tycoon with a net worth of hundreds of billions of dollars.

That day at the accident scene, I remembered watching the paramedics swarm around Stacie and felt my heart pound in my chest from terror.

The sheer guilt and helplessness crushed me and left me at a loss.

That was when Oliver stepped out of his luxury car. He handed me a bottle of water and asked, concerned, "Hey, are you okay?"

Under his steady consolation, I could finally calm down.

When the out-of-control car came barrelling toward the sidewalk, I'd been standing with my back turned. It was Stacie who'd reacted and swiftly shoved me out of the way.

Her legs were crushed, and she passed out on the spot.

Oliver comforted me for a long time that day before handing me a business card. "I know some orthopedic specialists. Call me if you need help."

Through my tears, I memorized the name on the card but lost the card in the frantic days that followed.

Now, looking at the same handsome, arrogant face, I felt dazed. It dawned on me that he'd just been toying with me all along.

"Just leaving if you're done making a scene, Callum, or you'll only embarrass yourself further."

Stacie said nothing. She just stood there and silently watched as I endured Oliver's humiliation.

"Stacie saved your life, so everything you did for her is perfectly justified. If you chose to repay her, why are you acting like the victim right now?"

He reached about and patted my cheek with his long, slender fingers before looking me up and down with open disgust.

"Plenty of men would kill for a chance with the heiress of the Garcias, and somehow, a loser like you got it. You're the one getting the better deal, aren't you?"

Better deal?

I looked at my rough and calloused hands, worn down from countless jobs, and clenched my teeth. Could they trample on my dignity and love just because I was poor?

When Oliver saw me tremble, he let out a delighted chuckle and walked back to Stacie. Then, he pulled her into his arms and held her close.

"Stacie was initially worried about how she should end this little drama, but now that you've seen the truth, it saves us a lot of trouble."

He leaned in and planted a light kiss on her cheek.

Stacie's eyes darted around, but she nodded and didn't pull away.

Oliver smirked and added, "Let me guess… Did Stacie tell you that she'd never marry anyone but you in this lifetime?"

A flood of our sweet, intimate memories together came rushing back. It felt like my heart was being scraped apart with a dull blade.

I couldn't stand the smug look on Oliver's face any longer. As I clenched my fists tight, I ground my teeth together so hard that my jaw ached.

Stacie noticed my odd demeanor. She moved fast to step in front of Oliver and shield him.

That heroic, decisive act was exactly how she'd looked five years ago when she shoved me out of the way of the car. But now, I wasn't the one she was protecting.

When our eyes met, I saw the wary defense in her gaze and her tightly furrowed brows.

Oliver, on the other hand, looked thrilled. "Actually, all of that was my idea.

"I ran a background check on you early on and found that you were raised in an orphanage, with no known family or parentage. You were just a stray no one wanted to claim.

"So, I told her to claim to be an orphan too. It'd definitely trigger your pity and resonance."

How bored must they be to orchestrate something so purely evil?

"I didn't misjudge you, Callum. Gullible bottom-of-the-barrel losers like you fall for it every time and beg to work for Stacie."

The cold, harsh truth roared in my ears, as if the world around me had just collapsed before my eyes. My sanity snapped.

"You like pretending to be crippled, don't you?"

I grabbed the mop and swung it hard at Stacie's perfectly healthy leg.

"You got tired of being a heiress, so you decided to toy with me, didn't you? Does Mr. Sterling know how you used to serve me in bed? Shall I tell him every single detail?"

The foul words were my last attempt to strike back because I knew how much Stacie loved Oliver. Even if everything she told me was a lie, I'd genuinely felt for her when she cried, talking about the man she loved.

I'd felt her heartbreak when she couldn't have him and her pain when she claimed that her wounded leg made her miss the chance to stop him at the airport.

"Mr. Sterling, you're so generous for taking back an heiress after she slept with a loser like me."

Fueled by rage, I lunged and managed to knock the slightly taller Oliver to the ground. But as I was about to deliver a crushing blow, Stacie threw her "crippled" leg out to block me.

I could pull back in time.

With a crack, the heavy wooden handle of the mop struck her shinbone.

She let out a gut-wrenching scream, and her face paled as cold sweat broke out across her forehead. She'd silently taken on the full force of the blow to protect him.

While I was dazed, Oliver scrambled up and punched me hard to send me to the ground.

"Look at what he did, Stacie! I'm calling the cops to have this lunatic locked away!"

Furious, he gave me several harsh kicks as he pulled out his phone.

At the mention of the word "cops", Stacie lunged forward and wrapped her arms around his leg. "Don't call the police! I was at fault!"

Oliver cursed under his breath, then crouched to check her leg.

Seeing them all affectionate and intimate seemed to drain my reason. I tried to lunge at Oliver again, only for him to kick me straight in the stomach.

I couldn't dodge in time, so the force of the kick sent me flying backward.

"You're just a piece of trash! You'll never be anything but a loser!" he spat.

The back of my head slammed against the hard floor, and immense pain exploded in my skull.

I watched as Oliver pulled Stacie into his arms and held her tight. She leaned in to press a quick kiss to his lips before finally turning to check on me.

When she noticed that I was lying on the ground, groaning and struggling to get back on my feet, that look of familiar guilt returned to her face.

She broke away from Oliver and limped toward me to help me up.

"I'm so sorry, Callum…"