###5

As expected, not long after Nate left, Cassie sent me another display of their affection.

This time, it was a video of him, Nate, busy in the kitchen—his back to the camera.

“He really loves me,” she cooed. “The moment I told him I was anemic, he dropped everything to take care of me.”

In all our years together, he hadn’t so much as toasted a slice of bread for me.

My fingers trembled as I furiously typed back, biting my lip to steady the rage.

“But he still doesn’t dare make your relationship public, does he? He only dares to sneak around with you.”

“Cassie Clay, you’ll always be his mistress—a sewer rat who doesn’t belong in daylight. Still think you’re the Detroit princess? No. You’re just a prostitute selling herself to survive.”

I turned off the phone and shoved it under the pillow, my chest heaving.

Days passed without any sign of Nate.

“I’m really sorry, Ruth. I didn’t expect things to spiral like this.”

“It’s fine. Do whatever you want.”

I kept my tone sweet and composed. He felt the chill behind it.

With guilt thick in his throat, he promised,

“I’ll take you to see the child as soon as I can manage it.”

“I said it doesn’t matter, Nate.”

Then I hung up.

His promises meant nothing. They were as cheap as the lies that dressed them.

Nate stared blankly at the busy tone.

Four days later, the bridal shop called. My wedding dress was ready.

My mother had commissioned it before she passed, hoping I’d be the most beautiful bride.

There was no wedding anymore, but the dress was a memory I still wanted to reclaim.

But when I stepped into the shop, there she was—Cassie—wearing my custom-made gown.

She twirled in front of the mirror, smiling sweetly, her eyes taunting.

“Your fat body doesn’t fit in this anymore, so I kindly helped you try it on. Even the groom helped—many times. You should thank me.”

My vision blurred red. I lunged and grabbed at the gown she’d defiled.

“Even if it’s trash, it’s mine! Cassie Clay, whether it’s a man or a dress, I’d rather throw them in the gutter than give them to you!”

Out of nowhere, she screamed and snatched a pair of scissors from the counter, slashing the dress—then her own palm.

“Ah!” she howled. “I was just helping her try on a dress, and she stabbed me!”

Before I could react, Nate stormed in.

He saw the shallow cut on Cassie’s hand and exploded.

“Are you insane? It’s just a dress! What’s wrong with Cassie wearing it? Did you want her dead? How vicious can you be!”

Vicious?

I stared at the shredded gown in disbelief, my breath ragged.

“This dress… was made by my mother!” I shouted, voice cracking.

“When you were just a homeless thug in Detroit, my mother took you in—raised you like a son! Without her, you’d have died in the gutter. She gave you everything you have. And this is how you repay her?”

I remembered back then—Cassie was a pampered heiress. One time, Nate accidentally stepped on her shoe. She had her bodyguards beat him.

But he never resented her. Instead, he said, almost dreamily, that he’d sleep with her one day.

I always thought he was joking.

I didn’t realize that conquering her had been his dream all along.

The anger made me dizzy. Nate reached for my hand, panicked.

“No, I didn’t mean that. I just… you went too far with Cassie.”

I shoved him away, voice like a blade.

“Right. I went too far. Go take your precious lady to the hospital. Hurry—her wound might miraculously heal if you’re fast.”

A heavy wave of disappointment crushed my chest.

He hesitated, but finally turned away.

Clutching Cassie’s hand, he left without another word.

“Yes. You’ll always choose her,” I whispered, hollow.

I knew this ending already. I’d accepted it.

So why does it still hurt so much?

I bit my lip, refusing to cry. But once his shadow disappeared, I couldn’t hold back.

The tears came all at once, along with a sharp pain in my stomach.

I looked down. The surgical wound on my abdomen had split open again.

I staggered out, breathing unevenly. I tripped over a stone, and just as I braced to hit the ground—

A strong arm wrapped around my waist.

He pulled me into a firm chest, steady and warm.

“Hey,” a familiar voice said softly.

“Didn’t you say you wanted to talk? I’m here.”

###6

The familiar yet slightly unfamiliar voice made me look up. Reflected in my blurred vision were the iconic black curls and the ever-cynical, striking face of Bert Lester. I clutched the arm of Nate’s sworn enemy and pleaded desperately.

“Bert, help me… kill Nate.”

He raised his brows. “Oh? So that’s why you came to me? The woman once head over heels for her fiancé now wants him dead?”

“Though I’d enjoy seeing that guy gone, if it’s a job, I don’t come cheap, Ruth.”

I blurted out, “I have money!”

Over the years, while Nate climbed the ladder of power, I helped him smooth the way—and in return, earned generous rewards.

Bert smirked. “But I’m not hurting for money. Right now, the most important thing is getting you to a doctor.”

He shoved me gently into the car. I was panicking. “Will you help me or not?”

“Let me think about it,” he said casually.

I expected him to glance at my belly, ask about the child, or demand an explanation for why I wanted to kill the man I once loved.

But he stayed silent the whole drive. Maybe he already knew everything. His network was far deeper than Nate’s.

The three of us—Nate, Bert, and I—grew up together in chaotic Detroit. But somewhere along the way, Nate and Bert became bitter rivals.

Eventually, Bert was taken in by his uncle White, head of the largest mafia in the U.S.

Since then, Nate considered him a mortal threat.

“Young Master, you think you’re so great? One day, I’ll make you bow to me!”

I still remember nineteen-year-old Nate, standing under the blazing sun, teeth clenched as he glared at the fading silhouette of the White family’s luxury car.

He kept that promise.

I had once admired him for it.

But now, those days felt like a distant past life.

After the doctor stitched my reopened wound, I slept deeply.

When I woke up, I found dozens of missed calls and unread messages from Nate.

“Darling, let’s get married next month.”

“I’ve hired the top wedding dress designer to rush the most stunning gown for you.”

“Call me, Ruth. I’m worried. You just lost the baby—it’s normal to be emotional. Cassie says she doesn’t blame you.”

I laughed through tears.

So now I’m supposed to be grateful she doesn’t blame me?

I’d imagined marrying Nate countless times. He always said, “Just wait a little longer.”

So I waited—ten years.

Now, he’s finally willing to marry me.

But it’s too late.

And far too disgusting.

I tossed my phone aside without hesitation.

The nurse came in to change my bandages. “Your husband stayed by your side all day and night. He just left not long ago.”

“What?” I sat up. “Nate was here?”

She shook her head and handed me a folded note from under the pillow.

I opened it.

“I’ve accepted your commission. Contact me again, Sleeping Beauty.”

It wasn’t from Nate.

It was from Bert.

My hand trembled as I crumpled the note.

I would make Nate pay with his life—and I’d never regret it.

I got out of bed and took a cab home to pack my things.

On the way, Lucas called. She said all the documents were ready. If Nate refused to sign the breakup agreement and split the property, we’d sue.

“Do it,” I said.

But at this point, the lawsuit didn’t matter much.

Still, I thought Nate would be thrilled to know I was making it easier for him and his beloved Cassie.

To my surprise, while I was packing, Nate returned—with Cassie beside him, both carrying bags.

“Ruth, what are you doing?!”

His eyes darted to the neatly folded clothes stacked beside me.

There was a flicker of confusion in his tone.

###7

I quickly kicked the suitcase behind the cabinet to hide it and replied calmly,

“Nothing. The house is messy—I’m just tidying up.”

His expression relaxed a little, and he smiled.

“Baby, your wound hasn’t healed yet. You should rest. I’ll have the staff take care of it.”

He handed me a leather handbag.

“I bought this for you. Do you like it?”

He leaned in to kiss me, but I turned my face away, letting his lips meet only air.

I glanced at the bag. Wasn’t this the same one Cassie had posted herself throwing away on social media?

Nate, do you really think I’m this cheap?

Worth nothing more than her trash?

His smile froze. His eyes narrowed, searching my face.

“What’s wrong with you?”

Before I could reply, Cassie’s voice cut in.

“Wow, it’s so pretty. Can I have it?”

She was staring at the necklace in my hand.

My mother’s green jade necklace—the only thing I had left after she destroyed my wedding dress.

I took two steps back and refused coldly.

“No.”

Nate frowned.

“Ruth, it’s just a necklace. Let her borrow it—take it as an apology for what happened.”

“I didn’t hurt her at all!” I snapped.

Before I could react, my palm was empty.

Nate snatched the necklace and handed it to Cassie.

“I hate being lied to,” he said with a trace of disappointment. “But don’t worry, I’ll buy you another one tomorrow.”

Whatever Cassie wanted—stars in the sky, moon on the water—he’d move mountains to give it to her.

And whatever she said, he believed.

Not me.

Why did I have to keep backing down for her?

“No! Give it back to me, now!”

I lunged forward, but Cassie curled her lips and deliberately let go.

Clang.

The jade shattered on the floor.

My eyes widened. A tidal wave of grief and rage crashed through me.

The baby was gone. And now the last memory of my mother was destroyed too.

My already fractured heart froze over.

Nate’s face paled.

“Ruth… Oh God, I’m sorry.”

He knew what the necklace meant to me—and he still took it.

My fists clenched. My voice broke.

“What good is sorry now?! You monsters!”

Cassie shrank into his arms, trembling.

“I didn’t mean to! She scared me—I just let go by accident…”

Nate instinctively wrapped his arms around her, shielding her.

As if I were the threat.

I had stood beside him for years.

When had he ever protected me like that?

I couldn’t speak. The pain in my chest was suffocating.

I knelt down to gather the shattered pieces.

But they were beyond saving.

Just like my love for him.

Seeing my devastation, Nate panicked. He knelt beside me, whispering apologies.

“She didn’t mean it. I’m sorry for her. Please—”

I slapped him across the face.

My voice was hoarse.

“Who is she to you? You don’t get to apologize on her behalf!”

You’ve killed me inside, again and again—for her.

His mouth opened, but no words came.

He saw despair in my eyes and tried to hug me.

I shoved him away, nausea rising like a bile.

I turned and vomited on the floor.

“Oh my God, Ruth!”

He knelt beside me again, eyes red. He didn’t care about the mess—just wanted to hold me.

“Don’t touch me!”

I staggered to my feet. My voice was like ice.

“This is the last time, Nate.”

As he stood frozen, I walked out the door.

“Ruth, wait! Our wedding’s in two weeks!”

He chased after me, but Cassie clutched his arm tightly.

“Nate, I’m scared. Please don’t leave me alone. Please…”

He hesitated.

Then he stayed.

And walked her back inside.

I ran straight to the bank.

I needed to withdraw the childcare savings—tens of millions, the future I’d prepared for our unborn child.

Enough to pay Bert. Enough to make Nate regret everything.

But I was stunned.

The account was empty.

“Your fiancé made a full withdrawal recently. Here’s the signed authorization.”

The bank staff handed me the document nervously.

I stared at the signature—his unmistakable handwriting.

All the color drained from my face.

Then I remembered: Nate had promised to help pay off my father’s debts.

The date on the receipt… it matched.

But that was our child’s future.

Our savings.

And he gave it away—to her.

I walked out of the bank in a daze.

Wandering the streets, completely lost.

I couldn’t kill him.

I had no money.

No child.

No justice.

I didn’t even notice the truck speeding toward me.