Five years ago, at my own engagement banquet, I broke my fiancée's little assistant's nose with a single punch.

To avenge her precious assistant, my fiancée had me thrown in prison with her own hands.

The day I walked out,

it happened to be Fay Galloway and Toby Weiss's wedding.

Everyone expected me to go on a rampage.

But I didn't crash their ceremony the way they all assumed I would.

Instead, I boarded a flight to another city and vanished without a trace.

……

Five years later.

I came back to the country with my wife, and it happened to fall on my birthday.

We'd made plans to celebrate together.

What I didn't expect was that when I arrived at the restaurant we'd agreed on, I'd run straight into Toby Weiss, surrounded by a fawning entourage.

"Well, well, well. Look who it is."

"If it isn't the great Mr. Gilbert himself."

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. A few years go by and our mighty CEO can't even afford a decent set of clothes? What happened to you?"

Toby's voice carried across the room, dripping with mockery.

The entire lobby fell silent in an instant. Every pair of eyes turned toward us.

I glanced down at what I was wearing.

The clothes looked simple enough, no designer logos anywhere.

But every piece had been handcrafted by Italian artisans, each one starting at seven figures.

Not that I owed Toby Weiss an explanation.

I ignored him and picked up the menu from the table.

My indifference only made him angrier.

He snatched the menu right out of my hand, his voice jumping an octave:

"What's the matter? Two years working the sewing machines in lockup and you went deaf? I'm talking to you. Did you not hear me?"

The words hadn't even settled before the whole restaurant erupted in murmurs.

"An ex-convict?"

"He looks respectable enough. Never would've guessed he'd done time."

"God, how did someone like that even get in here?"

I tuned out the whispers and the pointed stares.

Slowly, I lifted my gaze and looked at Toby, my expression blank:

"Do I know you?"

Toby blinked, then his face twisted with rage:

"Duke Gilbert, who the hell are you pretending for? You actually think you're still that hotshot CEO from back in the day?"

"Prison must've fried whatever brains you had left."

"Do you even know where you are? This is The Amethyst Grand. The most exclusive restaurant on the south side. A single cup of coffee here costs hundreds of dollars."

"Take a good look in the mirror before you embarrass yourself. You think a broke nobody like you can afford to eat here? Get out. Go on, get lost before you make an even bigger fool of yourself."

Contempt twisted every line of Toby's face as he kicked the table in front of me.

A deafening crash.

The coffee cup rattled violently, brown liquid sloshing over the rim.

I stared at the dark stain spreading across the white cuff of my shirt, and my expression hardened.

This shirt was a birthday gift from my wife. Today was the first time I'd worn it.

I fixed Toby with a cold stare:

"Apologize."

Toby let out a scoff:

"You want me to apologize?"

"Duke Gilbert, you must be out of your damn mind."

"If anyone's apologizing, it's you. Breathing the same air as a lowlife like you is already killing my appetite."

With that, Toby turned toward the entrance and barked:

"Security!"

"Where the hell is security? You people letting any stray off the street walk in now? Do you all want to lose your jobs?"

Two security guards approached, hesitation written across their faces.

Right then, the restaurant manager came rushing over.

One look at Toby's expression and the manager broke into a jog to reach him.

"Mr. Weiss, what seems to be the problem? Whatever it is, just tell me and I'll take care of it right away."

Toby let out a cold snort.

"What's the holdup here?"

"The service standards in this place are really going downhill. Can't you see there's a broke nobody here ruining the atmosphere?"

The manager froze, then followed Toby's gaze toward me.

"So sorry, so sorry. I'll take care of it right away."

He bowed and scraped before Toby, his voice dripping with flattery.

Then he turned to me, his expression hardening.

"Sir, this is a fine dining establishment, not a homeless shelter. I'm going to have to ask you to leave immediately."

He gestured toward the door with an open palm.

"You hear that?"

Toby slapped me lightly across the cheek, grinning with satisfaction.

"Broke losers need to know their place. If you can't afford it, don't come in here pretending you can!"

I didn't move.

Toby took my stillness for fear, and it only made him bolder.

His hand came down harder the next time.

"Tsk, tsk. Should've made sure you rotted in that cell a few more years. At least then you wouldn't be out here embarrassing yourself."

I smiled. It was the kind of smile that carried no warmth at all.

"Toby, I think those words suit you a lot better than they suit me."

"Or have the good times lasted so long that you've forgotten what it was like, crawling through garbage heaps looking for scraps?"

Toby had grown up in the slums.

He was thirteen when I found him.

Dressed in rags, hunched over a pile of trash, picking through it for something to eat.

I handed him the rest of my bread.

He snatched it and crammed it into his mouth in two bites, barely chewing.

I turned to leave.

But Toby dropped to his knees and grabbed the leg of my pants, clinging to it with both hands.

I felt sorry for him. So I took him home.

I paid for everything, all the way through college.

After he graduated, I got him a position at the company as Fay's personal assistant.

I never imagined that one moment of compassion would be the very thing that dragged me into hell.

A wolf is a wolf. No amount of kindness will tame it.

The person I'd given everything to was the same person who buried the knife deepest in my back.

Like so many people who forget where they came from once they make it.

Those years in the slums.

For Toby.

They were forbidden territory.

A past he never wanted anyone to mention.

His face twisted in an instant. He looked like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, fur standing on end. He jabbed a finger at me and screamed.

"You piece of trash! You want to die?!"

"A broke nobody like you doesn't get to bring up my past!"

"Keep talking and I'll cut your tongue out and feed it to the dogs!"

I watched him lose control, and that cold smile stayed right where it was.

"Cut my tongue out?"

"You really think you have what it takes?"

"Try not to go running back to hide in your woman's arms and cry about it."

"You..."

Toby choked on his own rage, finger still pointed at me, unable to get a single word out.

His face cycled between white and red.

It was the shame and fury of a man whose truth had been ripped wide open.

"Duke Gilbert, you're a dead man today."

Toby locked his eyes on me, and the look in them was pure venom.

The atmosphere in the restaurant shifted in an instant.

The noisy private dining room went dead silent, quiet enough to hear a pin drop.

The way everyone looked at me changed too.

Like they were watching a fool who'd just signed his own death warrant.

Everyone knew Toby Weiss was Fay Galloway's favorite, her most treasured pet.

Galloway Group had been on a meteoric rise these past two years, going from strength to strength.

In this city, nobody dared disrespect Galloway Group.

Crossing Toby was the same as crossing the entire Galloway empire.

Toby whipped around to the security guards behind him and roared.

"What are you standing around for? Get him! Show this lowlife what happens when he pisses me off!"

The words had barely left his mouth before two burly guards surged forward and seized my arms, one on each side.

The security guards had iron grips. My arms burned where they pinned me.

"I'd suggest you let go of me. You'll regret it if you don't."

My voice came out cold, like something dredged from the bottom of a frozen lake.

Toby, though, threw his head back and laughed as if he'd just heard the funniest joke of his life.

"Regret?"

"Who do you think you're threatening?"

"This isn't five years ago, pal. You're a broke ex-con. You're nothing to me. Less than nothing. An insect."

"Forget hitting you. I could put you in the ground and there wouldn't be a damn thing you could do about it."

I narrowed my eyes, watching him close the distance between us.

He stopped one step away and looked down at me, savoring the angle.

A long, deliberate pause.

Then he bent slowly at the waist, seized my chin between his fingers, and tilted my face up. His eyes glittered with provocation.

"Duke Gilbert, you're pathetic."

"I called you a cuckold and you still can't accept it!"

Pathetic.

Cuckold.

His words echoed over and over in my ears, and the restaurant dissolved around me. I was back. Five years ago.

That day was my engagement banquet with Fay.

The ceremony had reached the cake-cutting when Toby stepped forward, cradling an ornate gift box in both hands.

The lid came off. Nestled inside was a cake, and perched on top of it, molded in vivid fondant, sat a bright green tortoise.

The thing was emerald from head to tail, disturbingly lifelike.

Two glossy black eyes stared straight at me, mocking me without a sound.

Laughter erupted around the room.

Every guest was pointing, whispering, sneering. Nobody even tried to hide it.

They were all waiting to see what I'd do. Waiting for the show.

But Toby wasn't done.

He leaned in close, dropping his voice to a murmur only the two of us could hear.

"So what if you run a company? You're still marrying a tramp I already had my fun with!"

"You're pathetic. A cuckold. That's all you'll ever be."

Before the last syllable left his mouth, he flipped his phone around. Fay's photo filled the screen.

She was draped in sheer black lingerie, her gaze heavy-lidded and seductive.

A completely different woman from the cold, untouchable image she showed the world.

Toby's lips curled into a slow, satisfied smirk. His expression was thick with the pleasure of someone reliving a private memory.

My pupils contracted.

Every drop of blood in my body felt like it had reached a boil.

In that moment, composure was no longer an option. Rage incinerated every last shred of reason I had left.

I swung. My fist connected with his face.

That single punch cost me two years in prison.

"Ha ha ha—"

The memory shattered. I was back in the restaurant, and Toby was still laughing, still gloating.

The rest of the diners joined in, their laughter bouncing off the walls.

Every single one of them was enjoying the spectacle of my humiliation.

My gaze went ice-cold. I whipped my head sideways, wrenching free of the hand still gripping my chin.

In the split second of stunned silence that followed, I threw my weight forward and broke loose from both guards.

"You never learn, do you."

"Seems like enough time has passed that you've forgotten what it felt like when I shattered your nose. Let me refresh your memory."

My stare was razor-sharp, my voice cold enough to freeze hell over.

For one instant, the sheer force rolling off me locked every person in the room in place. The laughter died.

Toby met my eyes and the color drained from his face.

"You wouldn't dare!"

"You want to go back to prison?!"

A cold smile tugged at my lips. "Try me."

I ignored his threat. Under the horrified, disbelieving stares of everyone in the room, I drove my fist straight into Toby's face.

"AAGH—"

He staggered back two steps, both hands flying to his nose, a shrill howl tearing from his throat.