After graduation, I struggle to find a job, while my girlfriend easily lands a position at a major company. She has been with me for two years, and to cheer me up, she even lets me hold onto her payroll card.

Once I finally start working, she worries about my long commute and immediately buys me a car. Everyone around us envies me for having such a thoughtful girlfriend. To save up for a house, I secretly deposit my salary into her account.

A year later, we decide to get married. Excited, she grabs my hand and says, "I know you don't have much saved. I don't need any wedding gift. All I want is your love." I am deeply touched by her consideration.

But on our engagement day, she pulls out photos of me with a dozen women and accuses me of cheating. I look closely and realize I have never even met any of them. Then she shows me my card's transaction history, filled with charges at the notorious Solara Club.

"You had my payroll card, and you used my money to indulge yourself!" she cries. "I'm not marrying you. Return my car and all the money you spent over the years. It adds up to 800 thousand dollars."

I calmly place the payroll card she gave me on the table and say with a smirk, "Fine, let's settle this properly."

When I present the detailed account prepared by my top lawyer, she is stunned.

"Charles York, congratulations! You must have done something great in your past life to end up with a wonderful girlfriend like Stella Smith!" one voice spoke.

"Seriously. She's gorgeous, has a steady career, and is completely devoted to you. We're all insanely jealous," another said.

At the engagement banquet, my college roommates crowded around me, passing me one drink after another. I kept smiling, but a wave of bittersweet warmth rose in my chest. They were right. Getting engaged to Stella felt like the greatest luck of my life.

A year ago, I had just graduated. I was full of ambition, yet every resume I sent out sank without a trace. I spent most days sinking into discouragement in my tiny, rented apartment.

Stella, who worked as a team lead in a major company, stood firmly by my side through it all. She never complained. Instead, she pressed her payroll card into my hand.

"Charles, don't stress out. Take this card. The password is your birthday. A man trying to build a career shouldn't be walking around without money. It kills your confidence," she said softly.

Even as a grown man, my eyes welled up. I promised myself that once I found a job, I would make it up to her a hundred times over.

Eventually, I landed a position at a start-up. The only problem was the distance. My daily commute was a four-hour-long round-trip. It hurt her to see me exhausted, so she took me straight to a dealership and bought a car in full.

"From now on, drive to work. Don't waste all your time on the road," she said, pushing the key into my hand, smiling with warmth and patience. Everyone around me said I was unbelievably lucky to have a girlfriend like her.

After several rounds of drinks, the atmosphere grew lively. Suddenly, Stella stood up and picked up the microphone.

"Thank you all for coming to our engagement banquet. Before the ceremony begins, there's something personal I want everyone to witness," she said.

I thought she was about to make a romantic speech. I looked at her with a smile, full of affection. Instead, her expression shifted, and her voice turned cold.

"Charles, we've been together for three years. I've never wronged you. When you were unemployed, I supported you. When your commute was too far, I bought you a car. I gave you everything. And you… What did you give me?" she said.

I froze. The large screen behind her suddenly switched from our sweet engagement photos to something else entirely. One image after another flashed across the screen, each more shocking than the last.

In those photos, a man who looked strikingly like me appeared in dimly lit private rooms. He was entangled with one seductive woman after another, behaving with unmistakable intimacy.

The guests immediately burst into murmurs. I stared up at the screen, completely stunned. I had never seen these women or those places in my life.

"Who are they? Do you want to explain this?" Stella demanded, gritting her teeth.

"I don't know them! That isn't me!" I protested, my voice shaking with panic.

"Not you?" She let out a sharp, bitter laugh. She grabbed a thick stack of bank statements and threw them onto the table.

She said, "Then take a look at this. These are the spending records from the payroll card I gave you. For the past year, every big transaction has been at the Solara Club or Golden Palace. Each visit costs thousands of dollars.

"Charles, do you know how much I earn? You really used my hard-earned money to entertain these women?"

The Solara Club had a reputation as the sleaziest place in the entire city, the kind of place any respectable man avoided.

The room erupted with judgmental whispers. "My Goodness, you really never know someone."

"After everything Stella did for him, he turns out to be such a scumbag!" someone in the crowd said.

"A typical social climber is just worthless trash that you can't fix!" another added.

Then her mother, Sophia Hodge, stormed over and jabbed her finger in my face. "You shameless, ungrateful bastard! My daughter must have been blind to fall for you!"

I could not even defend myself, feeling like the world was spinning around me. Stella stared at me, and there was not a hint of softness left in her eyes, only icy disdain and disgust.

"Charles, I really misread you." She pulled the diamond ring I had given her off her finger and tossed it onto the ground. "We're done. The car I bought you, and all the money I spent on you these past years, you're paying it all back."

Her best friend stepped forward with a document she had clearly been holding for this moment and said, "The car was 230 thousand dollars. Add your living expenses, the gifts she bought you, and all these club expenses, and the total comes to 800 thousand dollars.

"You'll repay it today."

Everyone looked at me like they were watching a man being sentenced. To them, I was just a poor guy with only a year of work experience and no money. There was no way I could pay that amount. In their eyes, my humiliation was already guaranteed.

I looked at the stranger standing in front of me, and whatever affection I had left for her finally burned out. I took a slow breath and forced down the anger and humiliation boiling inside me. Then I straightened up.

With everyone staring at me, I reached into my suit jacket and pulled out the payroll card she had given me. I placed it calmly on the table.

"Fine. If we're settling accounts, then let's settle them properly. Every last cent," I said, meeting her eyes with a cold smile.

My calmness caught everyone completely off guard.

"Settle accounts? How are you even going to do that? Can you pay? Don't think you can bluff your way out! If you don't have the money today, we'll call the police and report you for fraud!" one of her friends shouted.

"Exactly! A man living off a woman sure has the nerve to argue here!" another added.

The crowd's laughter and jeers kept rising, but I ignored them. I pulled out my phone and made a call. "Mr. Reid, you can come in now."

Moments later, the banquet hall doors swung open. A poised, sharp-looking middle-aged man walked in. Owen Reid, my layer, walked straight to my side and placed a document on the table, sliding it toward Stella.

"Ms. Smith, regarding the financial dispute between you and my client, we've prepared a detailed account. Please review it," he said.

Stella froze, staring at the papers, hesitant to even touch them.

"First, the car. Its value was 230 thousand dollars," Owen said as his assistant projected a bank transfer record onto the big screen.

"The payment for the car was indeed made from Ms. Smith's account. However, the day before the purchase, Mr. York transferred 250 thousand dollars from his personal account into your account. Ms. Smith, how do you explain this?" he added.

Her face turned pale instantly. "That… That was… He gave it to me willingly!" she stammered.

"Whether it was a gift or not, the court will decide," Owen said evenly. "Next, regarding the alleged club expenses. We obtained surveillance footage from Solara Club through the bank."

Another video appeared on the screen. A man resembling me was using the payroll card I had never touched, swiping it multiple times.

"We verified this card was the one you gave him," Owen continued, eyes fixed on Stella. "We were told that someone claimed it was an extra card with unlimited funds. All he needed to do was sign 'Charles' on the receipts.

"Ms. Smith, forging signatures, using someone else's bank card without permission, and presenting it as evidence to defame my client… Do you need me to tell you what crime that is?"

Stella shuddered, staggered back, and was caught by her friends. The hall fell silent. Everyone was stunned by the shocking turn of events.

"No… This can't be… I didn't…" she whispered, her lips trembling, panic creeping into her eyes.

"Finally, let's talk about the so-called living expenses you claim were spent on Mr. York," Owen said, picking up the payroll card from the table.

"From the moment this card was entrusted to my client, he hasn't spent a single cent. In fact, over the past year, he deposited a total of 374 thousand dollars into this card." His tone sharpened.

A detailed record appeared on the screen, showing every deposit, with dates and amounts.

"And where did all this money go? We investigated that too," Owen said.

The screen lit up with a flurry of receipts and statements, showing a Carmine classic handbag for 38 thousand dollars, repayment of her father's gambling debt for 120 thousand dollars, coverage of her brother's failed business for 150 thousand dollars, and so on.

It turns out her glamorous lifestyle was entirely supported by me, her so-called kept man.

"Ms. Smith, your claim for 800 thousand dollars in compensation is completely baseless. Right now, you owe my client 374 thousand dollars, plus the car," Owen said, his voice icy.

"No… That's impossible…" Stella panicked, her eyes darting desperately to a man in the crowd for help.