I didn't move. I wasn't going to just leave like this. I was going to take back every single thing that belonged to me.

The doorbell rang ten minutes earlier than Naomi had said. They seemed pretty eager.

When I opened the door, I saw Jared—the business tycoon I saw smiling brightly on the financial news—standing on the doorstep. He had a man and a woman with him, both in business suits. They were probably the lawyers from Sullivan Group.

"How nice to meet you, Mr. Lewis," Jared said, his voice cool and calm.

He didn't come across as arrogant or overbearing. Instead, he surveyed me with a pitying look.

"The past five years must've been hard on you. To be honest, you did a lot better than I'd anticipated. Your acting was… very realistic," he remarked before brushing past me.

He strode right into the living room as if he owned the place.

"Shane, Daddy's here."

Shane immediately dropped his robot and scampered into Jared's arms, nuzzling against him. "Daddy Jared! You came!"

After Jared snapped his fingers, someone who looked like a secretary handed Shane a box that contained the latest limited-edition toy.

"Of course I'd come here. I promised you that once Mommy's 'game' ended, I'd take you home. Let's go to Dreamyland this weekend, okay?"

"Yay! I love you and Mommy the most, Daddy Jared!" Shane squealed.

They were blissfully engaged in their happy conversation, as if no one else were around. It seemed as though they were a family, while I was just an actor who'd completed my part and was supposed to get off the stage.

My heart had grown so numb that it no longer stung in pain.

Jared scooped Shane into his arms before taking a look around. His eyes landed on the upholstered couch I'd bought secondhand. His brow creased as if he'd just spotted something dirty.

"What was Naomi thinking? How could she stay in a dump like this and use such cheap furniture? None of these things is good enough for her."

Turning to one of the lawyers, he said, "Make a note of this, Mr. Meyer. Get a cleaning company to come over and toss out all the furniture. Cheap trash doesn't have a place in Naomi's house."

"Understood, Mr. Lewis."

Every word Jared said had explicitly canceled out all of the effort I'd put in throughout the last five years.

I'd stuck to a frugal budget only for the sake of the "shared future" of the family, but in his eyes, I was sullying his sophisticated fiancee's life with cheap trash.

The lawyer came up to me. After introducing himself as Edwin Meyer, he handed me a pen, saying, "Mr. Lewis, kindly sign the divorce agreement. The five-million-dollar compensation is already the highest industry standard for a roleplay project such as this. Ms. Sullivan and her fiance are being very generous with you."

"The highest industry standard?" I repeated with a look of incredulity.

They were basically reducing my life to a business transaction.

"That's correct," Edwin said before adjusting his glasses. "Apart from that, being a decent and kind-hearted man, Mr. Jared Lewis has asked me to give you a reminder not to engage in any form of continued harassment.

"Any such behavior will be regarded by the legal team as malicious provocation against the entire Sullivan family. I'm sure you wouldn't wish to bear the consequences of such an act."

It was an undisguised threat.

Jared came over with Shane in his arms and a courteous smile on his face.

"Please don't get the wrong idea, Ian. We're not threatening you. You're a smart man. I'm sure you know what the right choice for you is, right?" Jared said.

Looking down at Shane, he said gently, "Shane, say goodbye to this… man here. He's moving out of our home."

Shane lifted his head from Jared's shoulder and looked at me. He used to stare at me with a look of dependence, but now, his gaze was impatient and distant.

"Let's go, Daddy Jared. I don't want to see him. Mommy said that his poor-man energy and stingy attitude would rub off on me."

Poor-man energy and stingy attitude?

That completely destroyed what little warmth remained in my heart.

Staring at Jared and Shane, I laughed.

My laughter startled Jared and Edwin. They probably expected me to either explode in rage, curse them out at the top of my lungs, or fall to my knees and beg.

Laughter was the only thing they didn't expect from me.

"Why are you laughing?" Jared questioned, his brow furrowed.

"It's nothing," I said, my expression stilling after my laughter died out. "I just thought you guys proved to be great actors as well."

I walked into the bedroom and dragged out several storage boxes from under the bed. I bought them a few days ago. My plan was to use them to organize our off-season clothes in preparation for our new life following the end of our hard days.

"Oh? Have you come to your senses and decided to pack up so you can get the hell out of here?" Jared called out mockingly as he leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed.

I ignored him.

One by one, I methodically sorted through all of the expenses I'd covered in the last five years. During that time, I'd printed out the bank transaction records of my income from the three jobs I worked.

I also compiled my credit card statements and the detailed transaction records for the supplementary card used to make payments for Naomi's so-called heavy debts.

Jared's expression went from scornful to confused before eventually growing wary.

"What the hell are you doing, Ian? Don't tell me you plan on using this pile of junk to extort money from us. Well, I'm telling you right now that it's not going to work. We have the best legal team there is."

I said nothing. From a dedicated document folder, I took out a thick stack of receipts and invoices. And finally, I took out the receipt for Shane's limited-edition toy robot. The receipt had been issued in my name, and my debit card was listed as the payment method.

I gently placed that receipt on top of all the evidence, as if it were the final mark to end these five absurd years of my life.

Once I was done with that, I closed the boxes. All three large boxes had been filled, but not with my personal items. They contained my blood, sweat, and tears spilled in the last five years—the entirety of my life during that time, which had been reduced to nothing.

I looked at Jared and Edwin, saying, "I'm taking these with me."

Evidently, Edwin found my actions inconceivable as well. "Those are records of the shared family expenses, Mr. Lewis. You have no right to take them all away. Besides, they can't serve as grounds for you to demand additional compensation."

"Who said I wanted additional compensation?" I tossed back at him.

I turned to Jared, who was eyeing me like I was some kind of madman. With a scornful smirk, he declared, "There's no changing you, huh? All you care about is money. You're a hopeless case, Ian."

"That's right." I nodded, admitting to it. "I'm a hopeless case who can't be changed. All I care about is money."

After all, money was the only thing in this world that wouldn't betray me. I lugged the boxes of "junk" to the doorway and changed into my shoes.

Up until now, I didn't even bother looking at Shane.

The only things I took with me were my passport, debit card, social security card, and the boxes of evidence that mattered more to me than my life.

As I opened the door to leave this "home" that I'd dedicated five straining years of my life to, Jared spoke up behind me.

His voice wasn't that loud, but it was clear enough for me to hear as he said to Shane, "See that, Shane? I was right, wasn't I? A man like him isn't worthy of being your father. Money is the only thing he sees."

Even as the door closed, I heard them laugh.

I wandered the city streets aimlessly, hauling the three heavy storage boxes around with me.

As the sky slowly darkened, the windows that began to light up with warm light felt like a mockery of the fact that I was now homeless.

I found myself a budget hotel and tried to use the few thousand dollars I had left in my bank account to get myself a room for the night.

"I'm sorry, sir, but your debit card has been frozen."

I tried another card.

"My apologies, but this one doesn't work either."

I tested every single card in my wallet, including my credit card. The result was the same every time. The word "frozen" made me feel chilled to the bone.

Naomi was being so cruel. Not only did she kick me out of the house, but she was even trying to hang me out to dry, cutting off all my options.

Just as I dragged the boxes out of the hotel, a black Mercedes-Benz pulled up at the entrance.

"We meet again, Mr. Lewis."

It was that lawyer, Edwin again. His expression looked as robotic as before.

"Do you want something?" I asked hoarsely.

"I have a small update for you." Edwin handed me a document. "Given your malicious act of stealing financial records related to Sullivan Group's Successor Trial project this afternoon—that is, the boxes of receipts and invoices you took—you have exposed the project to potential risks.

"Therefore, Ms. Sullivan has decided to revoke the five-million-dollar severance pay you were previously given."

My mind went blank. Malicious act of stealing financial records? She'd defined my decision to take the records of my hard-earned money as an act of theft.

"That's not all," Edwin said.

He seemed to be relishing my reaction. He took out another document, one that was extremely familiar to me.

I signed it five years ago. At the time, Naomi told me it was a prenuptial agreement that would protect my interests even after our supposed bankruptcy.

My breath caught.

Edwin flipped to one of the pages and pointed at a supplementary clause printed two font sizes smaller than the rest of the document. He read it out to me.

"Supplementary Clause 3.1 provides that the role of 'father' undertaken by Party B, Ian Lewis, as well as any fatherly duties performed by him, shall be considered part of the project. The child being raised, Shane Lewis, is the biological offspring of Party A, Naomi Sullivan, and the project's investor, Jared Lewis. Party B acts solely as a caretaker and shall not acquire any legal parental rights or claims over the child."

My world came crashing down around me. All along, I truly thought that Shane was my son, the one I'd worked so hard all these years to raise.

Well, it turned out that we weren't even biologically related. It'd been a lie as well. My body trembled so violently that I could barely stay on my feet.

Edwin wasn't done yet. He flipped to the last page to give me the most lethal blow.

"Supplementary Clause 7.4 stipulates that all contributions made by Party B during the five-year term, including, without limitation, housework, emotional support, and child-rearing activities, shall be deemed as part of Party B's labor under the project. Compensation for such contributions consists of a trust fund in the amount of five million dollars, to be established by Party A upon the conclusion of the project."

After a pause, he delivered the final verdict as if it were a death sentence.

"However, Party B has been given a rating of 'unsatisfactory performance' in the project. Pursuant to Clause 7.5 of the agreement, the beneficiary of the trust fund has been transferred to Mr. Jared Lewis at 3:00 pm today, in full compliance with the law."

Edwin closed the document and handed it to me, saying, "Therefore, Mr. Lewis, everything only happened because you failed the trial. You have nothing now—not even the boy you thought was your son, your relationship, and the money you were supposed to receive. You're nothing."

I stared at Edwin before looking down at the agreement—at my signature on the bottom.

My entire life in the last five years, from the relationship I was proud of to the family I'd given everything for, had all been part of a meticulously formulated social experiment. This all happened without my awareness, and at the end, I'd been deemed a failure.

These people had used this so-called legal agreement that I'd signed to make my life a living hell.

I couldn't hold myself up any longer. My knees buckled, and I fell to the ground.

The world seemed to turn silent around me. All I heard was the sound of my heart breaking. Despair crashed over me like a roaring tsunami, drowning me completely.

I had no clue how I managed to leave that hotel.

The only thing I remembered was Edwin and his colleague looking at me like I was trash. After they saw me crumpling to the ground, they got back inside the car and drove off.

Late at night, I roamed the streets like a zombie, still dragging the three boxes filled with records of my joke of a life. I had nowhere to go.

All of my credit and debit cards had been frozen due to the "failure" of the project. I had less than 100 dollars in cash on me. I couldn't get a hotel room, and I had no home to go back to.

There was no place for me in this massive world.

I was on the verge of losing my sanity. Just as I thought I might go mad or collapse on the street, a thought came to me.

Naomi liked pretending to be poor, didn't she? Well, why not let her end up poor for real?