Vernon's POV

“I don’t care!” Zera cut her father off mid-sentence. “I’ve made up my mind. Calvert is your rightful son-in-law. You’d really rather trust an outsider than your own daughter’s judgment?”

The San Francisco redevelopment project was one of Andrews Corporation’s most important undertakings in recent years.

In my past life, I had led the project to a massive success. It catapulted Andrews Corporation to the top, making it the leading company in New York. It also cemented my position as the true head of the Andrews business.

Zera knew all of this.

A few minutes later, the butler came to get me and led me to the study.

Mr. Andrews sat behind his large mahogany desk, looking tired and worn. He motioned for me to sit, his fingers absentmindedly tapping the tabletop, creating a low, steady rhythm.

“Vernon,” he started, “there’s something I need to discuss with you.”

“You don’t have to,” I interrupted calmly—so calm it almost startled me. “I understand.”

Mr. Andrews looked up in surprise, then a flicker of guilt crossed his face.

He had always believed in me. For years, he’d groomed me to take over the company as his successor. But now, his hands were tied. He was past retirement age, and someone had to take over.

He let out a long sigh. “You’ve always been in charge of the San Francisco project. Handing it over suddenly doesn’t feel right. But you know how Zera is. She's more stubborn than me.”

I nodded. “I understand, Mr. Andrews.”

From my coat, I pulled out a folder I had prepared long ago, along with the signet ring that symbolized the real power of Andrews Corporation. I placed both on the desk.

“This folder contains all the project files and handover documents. Zera already knows the password.”

Mr. Andrews stared at the signet, his fingers trembling ever so slightly.

I had carried that ring with me since I was eighteen. It had practically become part of me.

In my last life, it never once left my side, not even when I died.

Looking at my calm expression, Mr. Andrews opened his mouth as if to speak, then thought better of it.

I stood and gave him a respectful bow. “Thank you for everything over the years. I’ll always be grateful, Mr. Andrews.”

Suddenly, the door burst open.

Zera walked in briskly, heels clicking against the hardwood floor. Calvert followed closely behind.

She wore a striking red dress that made her skin look like snow—stunningly beautiful, almost unreal. But her eyes, once soft and affectionate when they looked at me, now held nothing but cold contempt.

“Dad, did you settle everything?” she asked, not sparing me a single glance as she walked straight over to Mr. Andrews.

With a sigh, he nodded and slid the documents and signet ring toward her. “Vernon has agreed to hand everything over.”

Before Zera could respond, Calvert had already grabbed the signet ring, his eyes shining with undisguised excitement and pride.

Mr. Andrews frowned slightly at the scene.

“Hold on.” My voice broke the moment.

Zera narrowed her eyes and sharply asked, “Vernon, are you going back on your word?”

I shook my head and pulled a separate document from the folder.

“This contains the core confidential data for the San Francisco project, including private agreements with government departments and several critical suppliers.”

Zera took the file with suspicion and started flipping through it quickly. But the deeper she read, the tighter her brows furrowed.

“If these terms aren’t handled correctly, the project could lose at least fifty million,” I said evenly. “But I’m sure Calvert can handle it, right?”

A flicker of unease crossed Calvert’s face, but he quickly masked it with a confident grin.

“You worry too much,” he said. “I know what to do.”

I didn’t respond.

Calvert might have a college diploma, but he was still just a clueless kid when it came to business.

Vernon's POV

The success of the San Francisco project was no accident. It took years of careful planning and constant negotiations with various powerful parties. Even a small misstep would’ve meant failure.

“You can leave now,” Zera said coldly. “From today on, Andrews Corporation has nothing to do with you.”

As everything had been settled, I turned to go, but Calvert’s voice rang out behind me.

“Wait!”

His tone was deliberately arrogant.

I stopped walking but didn’t turn around.

“Since Vernon is out of the picture, he’s not part of the family anymore, right?” he asked smugly. “By the usual rules, he shouldn’t be allowed to take anything with him. He should leave with nothing.”

He looked at Zera, clearly enjoying himself. “Don’t you agree?”

The atmosphere in the room suddenly turned heavy.

I slowly turned around, letting my gaze pass right over Calvert’s smug face and settle directly on Zera. “Is that what you want?”

Her expression flickered—uncertain, conflicted. Her lashes trembled, and her eyes couldn't stay at a single point. And finally, she looked away.

That few seconds of silence said more than any words ever could.

Mr. Andrews suddenly slammed his palm on the table and stood up. “Ridiculous! Vernon has been with us for twenty years. Even if he’s not my son-in-law, he’s still a family!”

“Dad,” Zera finally spoke, her voice cold but firm. “Calvert’s right. If we’ve made the decision, then we should cut all ties completely.”

I looked at her for a long moment and then smiled.

A calm, quiet smile that made her visibly flinch.

“Mr. Andrews,” I said, “if this is what Zera wants, I’ll respect it.”

I looked around the study, making eye contact with everyone in the room. And when my eyes landed on Zera again, she instinctively turned away, her fingers twisting nervously at the hem of her dress.

“Since we’re being so clear today, then it’s only fair we settle some accounts too.”

My voice was soft, but it silenced the room instantly.

“I started managing the family business at eighteen. It’s been ten full years now.”

In the middle of my sentence, Calvert let out a mocking laugh, but Zera shot him a glare that shut him up.

As such, I continued, “The Austin development project had 1.2 billion dollars investment, and five hundred million dollars in net profit. And the El Salvador redevelopment had seven hundred million investments, and made a two hundred fifty million profit. While the New York Rear Harbor project…”

I listed them one by one, each number sharper than the last. With every figure I spoke, Mr. Andrews’s expression grew more and more serious.

“In total, I brought in over three hundred million in net profit for the Andrews in the past decade,” I computed.

Zera bit her lip as she knew exactly what those numbers meant.

In my last life, Andrews Corporation had risen to the top of New York’s elite thanks to these very projects. They were the foundation of everything.

“The Andrews raised me for twenty years. In return, I earned three hundred million for you.”

My tone was calm as I declared, “We’re square now. You don’t owe me. And I don’t owe you. So, I’ll leave with nothing. And from this moment on, we’ll have nothing to do with each other.”

But Calvert suddenly let out a cold laugh. “You say that like it’s noble. But does this look like leaving with nothing?”

He stepped forward and grabbed my suit roughly. “This custom-tailored suit? That’s worth at least a ten grand.”

He yanked up my sleeve to reveal my watch. “Patek Philippe? That’s gotta be worth a hundred grand, easy.”

Then he pulled my car keys out of my pocket. “And this? A limited-edition supercar—easily a million.”

After that, he turned to the others, grinning smugly. “Every single thing on you was bought with this family's money.”

I let him tug and mock all he wanted. I didn’t react, but my eyes never left Zera.

Her fingernails were digging into her palms now, but she still said nothing.

Then, I asked solemnly, “Zera, after all these years, does it really mean nothing to you?”

As such, her lashes trembled, then she opened her mouth, about to speak.

Vernon's POV

But in the end, she said nothing.

I thought I had let go now that I was given a second chance in life. But standing here in this moment still felt like something had been ripped from my chest, so sharp and raw that it was hard to breathe.

I forced myself to stay composed and began unfastening my watch. The sound of the metal clasp echoed through the silent study, unnervingly loud.

“Vernon!” Mr. Andrews suddenly stood up. “There’s no need to go this far!”

“Mr. Andrews.” I cut him off gently and continued removing my watch. “Rules are rules.”

The suit, the tie, the watch, and the shoes. I took them all off, piece by piece, folding them neatly on the floor. Even my socks came off. I stood barefoot on the cold marble tiles.

At that moment, Calvert's face was smug, practically glowing with triumph. Zera, though, had turned pale.

When I started unbuttoning my shirt, she finally couldn’t take it anymore and looked away.

“That’s enough!” Mr. Andrews could no longer hold back. “Vernon, stop this!”

But I still calmly folded the shirt and placed it on top of the suit.

“From now on, I stand on my own,” I declared. “I'm Vernon Robson, and I’m no longer part of Andrews.”

Right after saying that, I left through the back door of the Andrews estate, pushing a rusty old folding bike. It was the only thing I owned. It was a birthday gift Zera gave me when I turned eight. It had just been sitting in the backyard storage shed ever since.

Outside, I hadn’t realized so many reporters had gathered. The moment I stepped out, they swarmed like vultures.

“Mr. Robson, how does it feel to be kicked out of the Andrews family?”

“Rumor has it they didn’t even let you keep your underwear. Is that true?”

The flashes were blinding, so I squinted against the light.

“Excuse me,” I said hoarsely, my voice rough and unfamiliar even to myself.

Then, the crowd burst into laughter. One female reporter even pointed her camera directly at my lower half.

Her face looked familiar. She was probably someone I’d seen at one of Calvert’s birthday parties.

I swung my leg over the bike and wobbled forward, weaving through the chaos. But the reporters chased after me like a beast following its prey.

It wasn’t until I turned into a quiet alley that I finally shook them.

But just as I exited the other side, a sleek black Maybach pulled up and blocked my path.

The window then rolled down, revealing a stunningly beautiful face.

“Mr. Robson,” she said, “I’m Madge Welch from the Welch Group. My grandfather would like to meet with you. Would that be alright?”

I froze in place.

Madge Wedge. The legendary heiress from the capital. The Welchs were an elite powerhouse with true heritage and influence.

In my previous life, I had spent ten years clawing my way up just to barely make contact with them. Now, they were seeking me out?

I straightened up and nodded seriously. “It would be an honor.”

Third Person's POV

The next day, back at the Andrews villa, Zera sat frozen, staring at her phone screen.

Then she crossed with a top trending topic.

[Zera Andrews's husband candidate, Vernon Roson, was stripped of status and thrown out naked, riding only a bike!]

[The moral decay of society! What a disgrace!]

[Word is, if it weren’t for Miss Andrews’s soft spot, he wouldn’t even have kept his underwear!]

[Yesterday’s high-and-mighty Mr. Robson is now worse off than a beggar. Tragic!]

[Nothing new. Even the dogs raised by the rich get treated like this!]

She clicked on the video without thinking, and the sight of his bare back on that old bike hit her like a punch to the chest. When the camera panned to that rusted frame, she froze.

“Zera, what are you watching?”

Calvert wrapped his arm around her from behind. He then caught a glimpse of the screen and immediately burst out laughing. “Haha! That’s gold. Totally worth calling in dozens of media outlets to film that!”