My Billionaire Boyfriend Went Mad After I Left

My boyfriend of three years had a secret true love: my vicious best friend. For her, he swallowed my family business whole, froze every cent I had, and crushed my dignity into the dirt. When my father lay dying from a brain hemorrhage, I begged him for $50,000 to save his life. He refused cold-heartedly. At the exact moment my father died on the operating table, he was busy spending millions on rare jewelry for her. I didn't show up to our engagement party. Instead, I sent a "gift" that played on the big screen. That arrogant man went completely insane in front of the whole world. Chapter 1 Three years together, and my boyfriend, Julian Thorne, still acted like a Puritan in bed. Even in the heat of the moment, he never let me kiss him. He always made me turn my back to him, like looking at my face was some kind of sin. Today was supposed to be the day I funded the newly established "Vance Charity Foundation." But when I logged into the company account, I was locked out. A notification popped up on the screen: [Vance Industries Acquisition Complete. New Owner: Thorne Group]. I went straight to the top floor of the Thorne Group to get answers. Maybe it was fate, but the secretary wasn't at her desk. The heavy mahogany doors to the CEO's office were slightly ajar. I was about to push the door open when I heard a low voice from inside. I froze, my hand hovering in mid-air. Through the crack, I stared into the office that symbolized the peak of Manhattan's power. The man who was usually so polite and distant with me—who barely even held my hand—was half-kneeling on the floor. Sitting on his expensive mahogany desk was a woman: Seraphina. She was wearing a white lace dress, her legs dangling limply in the air, looking completely paralyzed. Julian was holding her "disabled" feet, carefully massaging her calf muscles. He looked like he was polishing a priceless gem, his eyes full of a pain I had never seen directed at me. "Seraphina... my angel. It's raining today. Do your legs hurt again?" Seraphina leaned back weakly, her eyes rimmed with red. Her voice was fragile enough to break a heart. "A little bit... but it's okay, Julian. As long as I see you succeed, it's worth it even if I never stand up again." "It's just... I'm so sad I'll never be able to dance ballet again..." Julian flinched. He lowered his head and kissed those "numb" knees with a sick kind of devotion. His voice dripped with a hatred that chilled me to the bone. "Don't be afraid. That poisonous woman who ruined your dreams... I'll make her pay." "Five years ago, Elara was jealous of your talent. She locked you in the bottom of that yacht and set it on fire on purpose. She condemned you to a wheelchair for life. I haven't forgotten that debt of blood for a single second." I stood outside, digging my nails into my palms until they bled. I didn't feel a thing. Arson? Jealousy? Five years ago at that yacht party, Seraphina was the one playing with fire in the hold to frame me! It got out of control. I risked my life rushing in to save her, but I got blocked by a falling beam. Afterward, she bribed the crew and accused me of starting the fire! And now, she was using those perfectly fine legs to soak up Julian's pity? "Julian," Seraphina wiped a tear, asking timidly, "You bought Elara's company... will she hate me? After all, she begged old Mr. Vance to fund you back then..." "Fund me?" Julian sneered. He stood up and pulled Seraphina into his arms, his tone full of disgust. "That was just the interest the Vance family owed you." "I endured three years of humiliation, acting alongside that hypocritical woman, just to drain the last bit of value from the Vance family. I'm taking back what belongs to you." "You know, every time I touch her, I feel like I'm touching a venomous snake. If I didn't have to keep her calm, I wouldn't even look at her. It makes me sick." He stroked Seraphina's long hair gently, but his voice turned icy. "Don't worry, baby. The engagement party in seven days... that's her execution." "I'm going to release the 'evidence' of the yacht fire in front of the entire New York media. I'll expose her as the sister-burning arsonist she is. I'll ruin her reputation. I'll force her to kneel before your wheelchair and spend the rest of her life in prison to pay for your legs!" So that was it. The three years of mutual support, the struggle we shared... in his eyes, it was just a long con for revenge. He was blind, falling for a lying fraud. And I was the idiot who lost my entire family legacy for a pair of scumbags. I clamped my hand over my mouth to keep from making a sound. Logic told me charging in now was pointless. Julian was brainwashed. He believed Seraphina was the victim and I was the monster. I had no leverage. Going in there would only humiliate me further. Trembling, I took off my heels. I walked barefoot, like a ghost, back to the elevator. I didn't feel alive again until I stepped out onto the bustling Fifth Avenue, the cold wind cutting through my clothes. My phone buzzed. An iMessage. The name dancing on the screen was the same man who had just called me a "venomous snake." "Elara, I closed a big deal tonight. Bought some prime steak. Come home early, I'll cook for you. Love you." Seeing that glaring "Love you," my stomach turned. I leaned over a trash can and dry heaved. What an actor. One second he's mourning his "disabled" first love, the next he's playing the devoted fiancé. In the past, I would have replied with joy. Now, my fingers shook as I typed a numb reply: "Busy at the gallery. Be back later." When I got back to our old apartment building in Brooklyn, the black Bentley was already parked on the corner. Julian was standing in the cold wind, wearing a cozy turtleneck and an apron. When he saw me, his handsome face lit up with that familiar, doting smile. "Why are you so late? Your hands are freezing." He reached out naturally to hold my hand and pull me into a hug. In that instant, the smell of his cologne mixed with Seraphina's cloying perfume made my skin crawl. I sidestepped his hug, pretending to dig for my keys. "Sorry, I was dealing with cold water at the gallery." Julian's hand froze in mid-air. A flash of darkness crossed his eyes, but he quickly recovered his perfect boyfriend mask. "Rough day. Let's go up. The steak is medium-rare, just how you like it." Candlelight flickered on the dining table. Julian cut the steak into small pieces and pushed the plate toward me. His eyes were so gentle they practically dripped affection. "Elara, you've suffered with me these past three years. The merger with Vance Industries is a bit complicated, but I promise, I'll give you a good life from now on." He mentioned the company without skipping a beat. I looked at the bloody beef on the plate. It looked like my shattered heart. "Is that so?" I swallowed the nausea and forced a piece of meat into my mouth. It tasted like wax. "Congratulations then, Mr. Thorne." "It's more than congratulations." Julian put down his wine glass. He pulled a velvet box from his pocket and slid it across the table. "Seven days from now, at Oheka Castle, I've prepared a grand engagement party for you." "I'm going to give you a 'surprise' you'll never forget. It's the fate you deserve." His eyes gleamed with the excitement of a hunter watching a trap snap shut. I knew what that "surprise" was. It was my ruin. It was me kneeling in disgrace before him and his fake-cripple sister. I gripped my knife and fork until my knuckles turned white. Julian, you think you're an avenging angel, but you're just a knife in Seraphina's hand. You want to play games in seven days? I'll play. I looked up and gave him the most submissive, yet coldest smile of the last three years. "Okay, Julian. I'm looking forward to it." Chapter 2 That meticulously prepared candlelight dinner ended in a suffocating, deathly silence. I forced down the medium-rare steak, bloody and raw. The meat was tender, but in my mouth, it tasted like wax. The metallic tang of blood rose in my throat, mirroring the exact feeling I had for the man sitting across from me—pure nausea. Late that night, the bedroom lights went out. Julian wrapped his arms around me from behind. His warm breath dusted the nape of my neck as his hands wandered restlessly under the hem of my nightgown. "Elara..." His voice was low and husky, thick with desire and an urgent need to possess, as if he needed to physically confirm that I still belonged to him. In the past, I would have shied away in mock coyness, overjoyed, thinking this was proof of his love. But now, the image of him and Seraphina in his office replayed in my mind—disgusting and vile. I felt like my whole body was covered in spikes. "I'm tired, Julian." I pushed his hands away cold, stiffened my body, turned my back to him, and pulled the duvet tight. A suppressed sigh came from behind me, tinged with disappointment. Julian didn't force the issue. He just tucked me in, his arm still draped loosely over my waist. "Okay. Sleep. Goodnight." Listening to his breathing even out, I opened my eyes in the darkness. By the moonlight, I studied his sleeping profile—the face I had loved for three years. Now, it just looked like a stranger’s. A monster’s. I quietly pulled out my phone, dimmed the brightness to the lowest setting, and opened an airline app. Two one-way tickets to Zurich. One for me, one for my father in the nursing home. The moment my finger hovered over "Confirm Payment," I didn't feel the relief I expected. My heart was pounding like a war drum. Julian, the judgment day you’ve so carefully prepared will be the day I make my escape. Early the next morning, Julian mysteriously drove me out to a private equestrian club on Long Island. "Do you like it?" He pointed to the row of expensive thoroughbreds in the stable, his eyes full of doting affection. "I remember you said you loved riding before the Vance family went bankrupt. I booked the whole place today just to make you happy." I looked at him and sneered internally. He was really investing a lot of capital to play the role of the "devoted fiancé." Julian helped me mount the horse, his movements gentle and careful, as if I were a fragile treasure. I looked down at him from the saddle and suddenly asked: "Julian, since we're getting engaged, when are we going to city hall to sign the marriage license?" The smile on Julian's face froze. His eyes darted away, avoiding mine. He busied himself adjusting the reins, speaking in a casual, offhand tone. "Elara, you know I don't believe in the institution of marriage. That piece of paper doesn't matter... as long as we're together, nothing can separate us." He paused, then added, "Besides, at the engagement party in seven days, I'm going to give you the grandest promise in the world. That means so much more than a marriage certificate." I didn't say a word. I just coldly pulled my hand out of his grip. A promise? More like a promise to send me to hell. Just then, a commotion broke out nearby. Bodyguards were escorting two figures toward us. It was Seraphina in her wheelchair, and her shrewd-looking mother—Linda. "Oh my, isn't that Elara?" Linda cried out with exaggerated surprise, her voice shrill. "Seraphina heard Julian brought you riding and insisted on coming to watch." Seraphina was wearing a white lace dress with a cashmere blanket over her legs. Even in a wheelchair, she looked like a fragile, innocent little flower. "Julian!" She called out sweetly, her gaze hooked onto him. "The doctor said being around animals is good for my mood. I want to pet Elara's horse too." Julian glanced at me instinctively, frowning slightly. He seemed worried I'd be upset about them ruining the atmosphere. But he still walked over and pushed her wheelchair closer. "Careful. Don't get kicked." Supported by Julian, Seraphina reached out a trembling hand, acting like a gust of wind could knock her over. The moment Julian turned around to grab a carrot to feed the horse, Seraphina looked up at me. Those eyes, usually brimming with tears, flashed with a vicious, icy glare. In a split second, a silver glint flashed in her hand. She jammed a long needle hidden between her fingers straight into the joint of my horse's leg! Neigh—! The horse screamed in agony and reared up on its hind legs, going berserk. "Ah! Help!" Seraphina threw herself backward, landing heavily on the grass with a scream. "Seraphina!" Julian dropped the carrots and sprinted over like a madman. He didn't even spare a glance at me, dangling precariously from the saddle, fighting the reins of a panicked beast. He dove straight for Seraphina and pulled her tightly into his arms. The horse bucked hard, throwing me off. My knees smashed onto the gravel, and blood instantly soaked through my pants. Pain shot through my body, but my heart hurt far worse than my knees. "Are you hurt? Do your legs hurt?" Julian checked Seraphina's legs frantically. The panic in his eyes was genuine. "It hurts... Julian, I'm scared... Elara... she did it on purpose..." Seraphina shrank into his embrace, sobbing her heart out like a tragic heroine. Once he confirmed Seraphina was "okay," Julian whipped his head around. His eyes were bloodshot as he stared at me, looking like he wanted to tear me apart alive. "Elara! Are you insane? You know she can't use her legs, why would you let the horse trample her?!" I fought the pain to stand up, looking coldly at these two Oscar-worthy actors. "I didn't. She stabbed my horse with a needle." "A needle?" Julian laughed in anger, pointing at Seraphina's trembling legs. "She can't even stand up! How could she stab your horse? Elara, just admit it. You're jealous! You're jealous that I care about her!" He stepped toward me aggressively, raising his hand as if to slap me. I didn't flinch. I just tilted my chin up stubbornly and stared him dead in the eye. In that instant, Julian saw my pale face and the blood running down my legs. His hand froze in mid-air. The rage in his eyes cracked. Was that... hesitation? "Oh, Julian, don't blame Elara." Just as Julian was stuck in the standoff, Linda stepped forward. She played the fake peacemaker, but her eyes were calculating. "The child has always been competitive and proud. She probably misunderstood your friendship with Seraphina." "Look, you two are getting engaged soon. It's not good for old best friends to be fighting like this." Linda rolled her eyes, hatching a plan. "In three days, Seraphina is hosting a private party on a yacht to celebrate her rehab progress. Why don't you let Elara come? It's the perfect chance for them to talk and clear up the misunderstanding." Seraphina caught the cue immediately. She tugged at Julian's shirt, speaking timidly. "Yes, I want to make up with Elara... Elara, you'll come, right? I want to prove I don't have any bad intentions. I don't blame you for letting the horse step on me just now..." I watched the mother-daughter duo sing their duet. I saw right through them. Make up? Celebrate? It was a trap. A carefully orchestrated setup to serve me an appetizer of humiliation before the main course at the engagement party, surrounded by their trashy social circle. I looked at Julian, waiting for him to defend me. If he loved me even a little, if he had even a shred of a brain, he should refuse this ridiculous proposal. Julian frowned, clearly hesitating. He knew Seraphina's circle was hostile toward me. But when he saw Seraphina's teary, hopeful eyes and those "crippled" legs, the scale in his heart tipped again. Maybe he thought that making me suffer a little grievance and bowing my head to Seraphina was a form of "atonement." After a few seconds of silence, he finally turned to me. His tone wasn't as violent, but it was cold enough to freeze my blood. "Elara, since it's a misunderstanding, clear it up. Seraphina is being generous enough to forgive what just happened. You should learn to be the bigger person." "You have to go to the party in three days. Stop being difficult." With that, he bent down and scooped Seraphina up, carrying her gently toward the Rolls Royce, leaving me with nothing but a ruthless view of his back. As Linda walked past me, she lowered her voice so only I could hear, letting out a scornful scoff. "Little bitch. Since you refused to do this the easy way, you'll get the hard way. Just wait for the show in three days." I stood there, watching the three of them leave like a happy little family. The wind on Long Island was strong. It stung the open wounds on my knees. I watched the luxury car disappear and curled my lips into a bitter smile. Julian, you chose her after all. Chapter 3 "Elara, you might belong to Julian, but this is Seraphina's turf." Linda blocked my path at the boarding gate of the *Nirvana*. She dangled a piece of fabric that barely qualified as a bunny suit, wearing a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "You know Seraphina's friends are here tonight. They all know about... the past. To prove you're not stuck-up and are truly sorry, Seraphina thinks it would be best if you served the guests." "I figure you can swallow your pride for the sake of patching things up, right?" I stared at the humiliating costume and turned to leave. "What? Cold feet?" Linda leaned in, her voice dropping to a hiss. "Your dying father's medical bills depend entirely on Julian. Walk away now, and Seraphina gets upset. If she whispers in Julian's ear... well, you do the math." I clenched my fists until my nails bit into my palms. For Dad, I had no choice. Changing into that degrading outfit, I walked onto the deck with a champagne tray. The biting sea wind sliced right through the thin fabric. Julian was sitting on a sofa in the center of the crowd, nursing a drink. He looked distracted, his eyes constantly darting toward the entrance. When he saw me appear in that getup, his pupils contracted instantly. His grip on his glass tightened until his knuckles turned white. "Who told her to wear that?!" Julian shot up, his face thunderous. He stormed over, already unbuttoning his suit jacket as if to cover me. "This is ridiculous! Whose idea was this?" For a split second, my frozen heart felt a spark of warmth. But before he could reach me, Seraphina tugged at his jacket from her wheelchair. "Julian... don't blame Elara..." She looked up with teary eyes, her voice trembling. "She insisted. She said she wanted to punish herself for how she treated me back in school... to atone..." "Plus, everyone is watching. If you protect her now, they'll think you don't care about my suffering... that you're shielding the arsonist." Julian stopped dead in his tracks. He looked at me, torn between heartache and doubt, but the word "atonement" seemed to trap him. His hand, holding the jacket meant for me, froze in mid-air. Finally, he gritted his teeth and put the jacket back on. "If she chose it herself..." He turned his head away, refusing to look at me, his voice muffled as if he were trying to convince himself. I stood in the freezing wind, watching his hand retreat. The tiny spark of warmth in my chest instantly froze into ice. He believed her. Even with a lie this pathetic, he chose to believe Seraphina. He chose to sacrifice my dignity to uphold his twisted sense of "justice." The next hour was pure torture. I wove through the crowd with the drinks, feeling the rich kids' gazes sticking to me like slime. "Well, well. Isn't that the high-and-mighty Miss Vance?" "I heard she'll do anything for cash. Is it true?" The mockery was endless. I gritted my teeth, praying for this farce to end. Julian sat in the corner, drinking sullenly. Although Seraphina kept pestering him, I could feel his gaze locked onto me, filled with a hidden anxiety. Whenever some guy tried to get too handsy with me, Julian would slam his glass down and glare daggers at them until they sheepishly backed off. He thought that was enough. He thought that was "protection." He didn't know that his silence was the cruelest cut of all. "Ah!" Suddenly, someone stuck a foot out to trip me. I lost my balance and crashed heavily onto the deck. Expensive champagne splashed everywhere. Shards of glass sliced into my palms and knees, and blood pooled instantly. "Hahaha! What a show!" The crowd erupted in laughter. The trust-fund brat who tripped me stepped up to humiliate me further. "Clumsy bitch. You got my shoes dirty. Lick them clean..." "Enough!" A furious roar cut through the laughter. Julian couldn't take it anymore. He shoved Seraphina aside and charged over, knocking the brat away to shield me. "Back off! Who gave you permission to touch her?!" His eyes were bloodshot, like a lion provoked. In that moment, he forgot his "punishment," forgot his revenge plan. His instinct was just to protect me. He crouched down, looking at my bloody hands with panic and heartache. His hands shook as he reached out to help me up. "Elara... does it hurt? Come on, let's get you patched up..." Seeing him like this, a lump formed in my throat. I almost cried from the sheer weight of the grievance. "Owww... my leg! It hurts! It feels like it's breaking!" A blood-curdling scream came from behind us. In his rush, Julian had pushed Seraphina too hard, and her wheelchair had slammed into a table corner. Julian's hand, reaching for me, froze instantly. "Julian... my leg! It hurts so much..." Seraphina wailed hysterically. The concern in Julian's eyes twisted into agonizing conflict. He looked at me, then back at the sobbing Seraphina. A few seconds of deathly silence passed. Finally, under my desperate gaze, he slowly pulled his hand back. "...Clean yourself up." He couldn't even look me in the eye. His voice was hoarse. After dropping those cold words, he turned and scooped Seraphina up into his arms. "Don't be scared. I'm calling the doctor! It's okay, I'm here..." I sat among the broken glass, watching his retreating back as he carried her away in a panic. The laughter around me started up again, but I couldn't hear it anymore. I couldn't feel the pain in my hands. I only felt a gaping hole in my chest, with the cold wind rushing through it. As he carried Seraphina past me, I heard the brat ask, confused, "Julian, why were you so nervous about the waitress?" Julian paused. To hide his slip-up and comfort the trembling girl in his arms, he gritted his teeth and spoke with a tone that sounded almost self-flagellating. "Care? Impossible." "She owes Seraphina a life. This little bit of suffering is just her penance. When she's paid her debt and learned how to be a decent human being, I'll give her a way out." "For now... let her suffer." Penance. A way out. Those words hit like a sledgehammer, shattering the last illusion I had of him. It turned out that his moment of instinctive protection was just a "mistake" in his eyes. He needed to strangle his love for me to honor his so-called justice. I picked myself up off the deck. I didn't bandage my wounds. I didn't look at anyone. Dragging my bleeding leg, I walked off the yacht, step by step. The jeers grew louder, but I was deaf to them now. My heart was dead. Chapter 4 That night, I dragged my bleeding leg back to the apartment like a walking corpse. Three days left until the engagement party. I started packing. When I pulled open the drawer, the "unlimited" Black Card Julian had once forced on me lay there quietly, right next to the diamond engagement ring he’d given me. Before, seeing these might have softened my heart. Now, remembering the cold look in his eyes on the yacht as he chose Seraphina, I just felt the irony. I wasn't helpless. I had hands, and running the gallery over the years had allowed me to save up a decent nest egg. Even though Vance Industries had been swallowed by Julian's Thorne Group, my private accounts still held the trust fund my father had set up for me years ago, plus the proceeds from my paintings. It was enough for Dad and me to get treatment in Zurich, live comfortably, and start over. I didn't give a damn about Julian Thorne's money. From now on, we owed each other nothing. Just as I zipped up my suitcase—*Buzz. Buzz.* My phone vibrated violently in the silent room. The screen lit up with the emergency contact number for my father's nursing home. A sickening feeling of dread instantly gripped my heart. I picked up, and the voice on the other end was frantic. "Miss Vance! Your father has had a sudden brain hemorrhage. It's critical!" "We can't get his blood pressure down, and there's significant bleeding in the brainstem. He needs a craniotomy immediately! But..." My mind went blank. My voice trembled. "But what?" "But just now, when we tried to process the prepayment for the surgery, the system showed a zero balance in all your linked accounts! The hospital system has locked the surgery schedule. You need to come here immediately and pay the $50,000 deposit plus the ICU retainer. Otherwise, the anesthesiologist and surgical team cannot proceed." Zero balance? Impossible! That money was my private property. How could it just vanish into thin air? I didn't even bother grabbing a coat. I ran downstairs like a madwoman, flagged a taxi, and sped straight to Mount Sinai Hospital. When I burst into the ER, Dad was already on a ventilator. His face, once so commanding, was now paper-white and lifeless. "Doctor! Save him! I'll pay right now!" My hands shook as I dug my platinum debit card out of my bag and handed it to the nurse at the billing desk. *Beep—* The machine let out a sharp tone of rejection. "I'm sorry, Miss Vance. Insufficient funds." "Impossible!" I snatched the POS machine, shaking so hard I nearly dropped it. "There's two million dollars in this account! I saved it bit by bit selling my art over the years!" I immediately dialed my private banker. The news from the other end plunged me into an ice bath. "Miss Vance, I'm so sorry. Half an hour ago, Ms. Linda presented a 'Full Asset Custody Authorization' signed by your father. Claiming that the bankruptcy liquidation of Vance Industries required capital turnover, she transferred all funds from the Vance family trust accounts—and your linked sub-accounts—to an offshore account." "What authorization? My father has been in a coma! How could he sign anything?! It's a forgery!" "The paperwork is compliant and notarized by a lawyer. And... the legal team assisting with the freeze and transfer belonged to the Thorne Group." I hung up, my blood running cold. Linda! And Seraphina! They didn't just want to steal Julian. They wanted to wipe us out completely. They wouldn't even spare my father's life-saving money! And Julian's company was their accomplice! "Miss Vance..." The doctor checked his watch, his tone heavy. "Ten minutes. If the funds aren't in, the OR has to close. We can't violate protocol." Ten minutes. Fifty thousand dollars. Where was I going to find that kind of money? My gaze fell on the familiar name in my contacts—Julian. I bit my lip until I tasted blood. I had sworn I would never beg him again, never take another cent from him. But now, looking at my dying father, my dignity wasn't worth a damn thing. Trembling, I dialed the number. Once... twice... Finally, he picked up. "Julian..." I started, my voice humble as dust. "Please, lend me fifty thousand. Dad had a brain hemorrhage, he's in the ER. Linda transferred all the money, I have no way out... It's a life or death situation..." There was a suffocating silence on the other end. After a long pause, Julian spoke. His voice wasn't cold like I expected, but filled with disappointment and the sarcasm of someone who thinks they've seen through a lie. "A brain hemorrhage? Elara, have you really stooped so low that you'd curse your own father just to force me to unfreeze your accounts?" I froze, tears bursting from my eyes. "I'm not lying! The doctor is right here! You can listen..." "Elara, stop acting." Julian cut me off, sounding deeply exhausted. "Seraphina just told me she visited Oliver at the nursing home this morning. She said he was in high spirits, even ate an apple she peeled for him. He even told us to plan the engagement party well." "So? Only a few hours later, and he suddenly has a brain hemorrhage? Conveniently right after I cut off your cards?" My heart sank like a stone. Seraphina! She never went to the nursing home this morning! She was lying! "Julian, Seraphina is lying! She was never there! I'm begging you, just believe me this one time... send someone to check, please..." "I won't." Julian's voice turned cold, dripping with the arrogance of someone who thinks they're smarter than the room. "Elara, I thought you were just a bit spoiled. I didn't realize that for money, you could become so hypocritical and greedy." "Do you think this sob story will make me soft?" "You want money? Fine." "Come home. Right now. As long as you show up obediently, stop these boring lies, and promise to apologize to Seraphina at the engagement party..." "I'll give you five million, let alone fifty thousand." His demands sounded so reasonable to him. He thought this was just a lover's power play about who would cave first. He thought that as long as I didn't submit, I would eventually have to come crawling back to be his obedient canary. But he didn't know I was in the ER at Mount Sinai, an hour's drive from his villa. And my father's surgical window was closing in five minutes. "I can't go back... I can't leave right now..." I sobbed uncontrollably. "Julian, please, just send the money first to save him? Please, it's his life..." "Still lying?" Julian lost all patience, his voice turning icy. "Since you refuse to come back, the situation obviously isn't as urgent as you say." "Elara, don't test my limits. Come find me when you've come to your senses and learned how to be an honest person." *Beep— Beep— Beep—* He hung up. He didn't actually want to kill my father. He was just too arrogant. He believed in Seraphina's "kindness," and he believed I was lying for money. He thought that by holding the purse strings, he could force me to bow my head. He didn't know that the price of his "lesson" and his "test" was my father's life. "Miss Vance," the nurse said regretfully, putting away the billing form. "Time is up. I'm sorry." I snapped my head up and wiped the tears from my face. I wouldn't cry. Dad was still waiting for me. I dialed a number that had been gathering dust for years—a loan shark from the New York underground, the kind my father had warned me a thousand times never to touch. "I need to borrow fifty thousand dollars. Right now. Immediately." "Collateral?" I looked toward the emergency room, my gaze steeling over. "All the paintings my mother left me, and... my life." The moment I hung up, I knew I had sold myself to the devil. Julian, for the sake of your pride and your so-called "truth," you personally severed the very last thread between us. I stared at the red light above the operating room. *Hang on, Dad.* *Julian, remember this: every second ticking by right now is a countdown to the knife I will eventually drive into your heart.* Chapter 5 Outside the emergency room at Mount Sinai Hospital, the white walls were as cold as a morgue freezer. *Tick, tock, tick, tock...* The wall clock marched on, each second feeling like a boot stomping on my carotid artery. The money from the underground lender arrived fast; the broker was efficient. But I was still too late. Just as the expensive shot of adrenaline was pushed into his veins, the curve on the monitor flattened into a piercing, endless line. *Beeeeeeep—* That long, high-pitched tone announced the total collapse of my world. The lead surgeon pushed open the door and pulled down his mask, his face etched with deep regret and helplessness. "Miss Vance, I am so sorry. The patient arrived too late. The intracranial pressure was too high, leading to herniation... If you had been even thirty minutes earlier—no, even ten minutes earlier with the payment—the outcome might have been different." Ten minutes. Just because of those ten minutes. If Julian hadn't questioned me with such arrogance on the phone, if he hadn't frozen that money to force me to my knees, if Seraphina hadn't spun that web of lies. That man, holding the power of life and death on Wall Street in his hands, used his self-righteous "need for control" and his blind "trust" in Seraphina to personally sever my father's last lifeline. I didn't cry. When grief is absolute, tears don't come. I just mechanically signed the death certificate, watched them cover my father with a white sheet, and push him toward the freezing morgue. Just then, my phone vibrated. The screen lit up with a text from Julian. The timestamp showed it was sent the exact second my father took his last breath. "Elara, stop making a scene. It's raining outside. I sent the driver to pick you up. As long as you come home now, I'll pretend the lies you told today never happened. I'll transfer that fifty thousand to you as pocket money. Be a good girl, stop being willful." Looking at the glaring words "good girl" on the screen, I suddenly laughed out loud. --- Meanwhile, inside the luxurious Manhattan villa. Julian wasn't chatting with Seraphina like usual. instead, he stood alone by the floor-to-ceiling window, frowning as he watched the rainstorm intensify outside. He gripped his phone tightly, the screen's light reflecting the anxiety and unease in his eyes. "Julian," Seraphina wheeled herself over, holding a cup of hot milk. Her voice was soft. "It's so late, why aren't you sleeping? Are you still angry with Elara?" Julian put away his phone and rubbed his brow irritably. "It's raining so hard. She has no money, and she's so stubborn... Seraphina, do you think I went too far? What if Oliver really..." After hanging up, he felt more and more panicked. Even though he was convinced Elara was playing the victim to force his hand, he couldn't shake the sound of her desperate sobbing from his mind. "Why would you think that?" Seraphina sighed, a glint of calculation flashing in her eyes. She put down the milk and took Julian's hand. "I know you're soft-hearted. But I was worried too, so I asked Mom to call the nursing home's front desk just now to check." Julian whipped his head around. "What did they say?" Seraphina looked innocent, lying without blinking an eye. "The nurse said Uncle Oliver went to sleep ages ago. His vitals are normal. There was no brain hemorrhage, and definitely no emergency resuscitation." "Elara... she really is lying to you." Seraphina lowered her head, acting indignant on his behalf. "She's probably just upset you cut off her cards and felt her pride was wounded, so she made up this ridiculous lie to scare you. She just wants to see what's more important to you: her 'face' or your principles." "Julian, this is emotional blackmail. If you go soft and look for her now, she'll think she won. In the future, whenever she doesn't get her way, she'll use Uncle Oliver's health to threaten you." Hearing this, the sliver of worry in Julian's eyes vanished instantly, replaced by the disappointment and anger of being played. "Emotional blackmail..." He sneered, clenching his fist. "She's right. I've spoiled her." He had been worried she was truly desperate. He didn't expect it to be just a prank to force him to unfreeze her accounts. Joking about her father's life and death—it was simply unreasonable. "Since she wants to act, let her act to her heart's content." Julian turned his back to the storm outside, his voice hard. "When she's suffered enough out there and realizes she can't take a single step without me, she'll come back begging." He thought this was his "lesson" to her, a way to maintain his dominance in the relationship. He was even mentally calculating how he would magnanimously forgive her when she came back to apologize, maybe even buy her that brooch she had been eyeing for a long time. He had no idea that his self-righteous "principles" were the greatest blasphemy against the dead. --- Holding the urn that felt incredibly heavy in this moment, I returned to the place my father had cared about most in his life—Vance Manor. This once-glorious Baroque estate was now sealed with bank tape, about to be auctioned off as Seraphina's "trophy." Like a ghost, I climbed in through a broken window in the back garden. My footsteps echoed in the empty hallway. The walls, once covered with masterpieces, now bore only mottled outlines. Clutching the urn, I climbed step by step up to the dusty attic. "Dad, I'm sorry..." I stroked the cold redwood floorboards, my eyes vacant. Just as I was preparing to place my father's ashes there temporarily, a loose floorboard caught my attention. There seemed to be a hidden compartment underneath. Driven by some unseen force, I pried open the board. Lying underneath was an iron box wrapped tightly in oil paper. Opening it, I found a thick leather-bound diary and a hard drive sealed in an anti-static bag. A sticky note was attached to the hard drive, bearing my father's shaky handwriting: **[Five years in the making, data finally recovered. This is the best wedding gift for Elara.]** Trembling, I opened the diary first. I expected it to be filled with resentment over the family bankruptcy or worries about the future. But I was wrong. Every page, every word, was about Julian. **[December 24, 2023]** "Today was the first time that kid Julian came home for Christmas Eve. He actually teared up looking at the table full of food, said he was an orphan and never felt the warmth of a family. I patted his shoulder and told him: 'Once you enter the Vance home, you're my own son.' Watching him and Elara unwrap gifts under the tree, I felt this life was worth it." **[May 20, 2024]** "Julian hit a bottleneck with his startup, can't sleep at night. I sold that antique pocket watch I've had for thirty years and quietly put the money into his account. I didn't tell him, didn't want to hurt the kid's pride. As long as he succeeds, as long as he can make Elara happy, what do these old bones matter?" **[August 15, 2025]** "Today Julian called me 'Dad.' I was so happy I had a couple extra drinks. The kid had a tough start, but he's got grit. He's a good man. I feel safe handing Elara over to him. On their wedding day, I have to personally place my daughter's hand in his and tell him: I don't ask for riches, I only ask that he never fails the apple of my eye." **[November 1, 2025]** "My health is getting worse, but I have to hold on. The data recovery team I hired at great expense finally sent good news. The surveillance hard drive from the yacht fire that year is 99% recovered. I know Elara was framed. That Seraphina girl has a wicked heart. Once the data is fully restored, I can clear my daughter's name at the engagement party and sweep away the last obstacle for the young couple..." Huge teardrops smashed onto the yellowed pages. My heart ached so much I could barely breathe. It turned out, Dad knew everything. It turned out, he had been silently protecting us all along. He loved Julian like his own son, even sacrificing so much in secret to protect Julian's ego. To his dying day, he thought Julian was a good man for me. To his dying day, he was paving the way for our happiness. But he never imagined that the person who would eventually drive him to his death was the "good son" he treated as his own. Julian, look at this. This is the old man you claimed "used you" and "looked down on you." This is the Vance family you said "deserved to die." He gave you the only fatherly love he had, and you used your arrogance and prejudice to personally pull his plug. I put down the soaked diary and picked up the hard drive. Inside was my innocence, bought with the last of my father's time. After the fire five years ago, the yacht's surveillance system was destroyed. Everyone thought the evidence was gone. But Dad didn't give up. He spent five whole years searching for the world's top data recovery experts, finally extracting the truth from that charred chip. I plugged the drive into the tablet I carried with me. Although the image was a bit blurry, it was still clear enough to see— Inside the bottom cabin, Seraphina wasn't locked in. She looked manic. Holding an exquisite lighter, she smiled a terrifying smile at the camera, then personally set fire to the heavy velvet curtains. Immediately after, she locked the cabin door from the inside, took out her phone, and started dialing 911, instantly switching to a sobbing voice: "Help... Elara locked me inside... It's on fire... Save me..." The truth was out. There was no bullying. No attempted murder. Only a lunatic who staged a bitter self-injury plot to scam insurance money, eliminate a love rival, and emotionally kidnap Julian. And for this lunatic, Julian killed the "father" he respected most. "Heh..." I laughed out loud in the dim attic. The sound was shrill, startling the crows outside the window. Dad hid these two things here, originally intending to give us a surprise at the engagement party. Now, they had become the sharpest butcher's knife. I wiped the dried tears from my face and tucked the hard drive and diary close to my body. The deathly silence in my eyes faded in an instant, replaced by a fire of revenge strong enough to burn everything down. Julian, Seraphina. You're looking forward to tomorrow's engagement party, aren't you? Good. I will attend on time, carrying my father's "last wish." I will show you what it truly means to kill the heart. I took out my phone and dialed Julian. He picked up almost instantly. "Elara? Where are you?" Julian's voice couldn't hide his anxiety, mixed with a trace of smugness that I had finally bowed my head. "I knew you'd come around. Just come back, I'll listen to whatever you say..." "Julian." I cut him off, my voice as calm as the sea before a storm. "Tomorrow is the engagement party." "I'll be there on time. And I'm bringing a real 'big gift' for you and Seraphina." Without waiting for his response, I hung up directly. I pulled out the SIM card, snapped it in half, and threw it into the dust. In this moment, the Elara who loved Julian died along with her father. Chapter 6 On a stormy night, St. Patrick's Cathedral on Fifth Avenue loomed ominous in the dark. The familiar black Bentley was parked out front. I had tailed Julian here. Closing my black umbrella, I slipped through the side door like a ghost, silent and unseen. Under the massive dome, only the sanctuary lamp burned, casting two elongated shadows across the cold marble floor. It was Julian, and Seraphina in her wheelchair. I hid behind a massive stone pillar, holding my breath as I listened to their conversation over the rumble of thunder. "Julian..." Seraphina’s voice held a note of testing insecurity. "The engagement party is tomorrow. Do you... do you have any regrets?" Julian had his back to her, staring up at the statue of the Virgin Mary. His voice was devoid of emotion. "This is what I promised you. It's what the Vance family owes you." "But..." Seraphina bit her lip, wheeling herself closer to tug at the hem of his jacket. "You've been out of it for days. Ever since you cut off Elara's cards, you just stare at your phone." "Are you having second thoughts? Or..." She added a sob to her voice. "Have you actually fallen in love with her? After all, she really did suffer alongside you for three years. If you can't bear to do it, let's just forget the plan... I can handle the injustice..." Julian stiffened visibly. That moment of silence was amplified infinitely in the empty church. I stood in the shadows, watching his back. He was struggling. Teetering on the edge of reason and emotion. But in the end, he didn't choose me. He slowly crouched down and took Seraphina's hand. His eyes turned gentle again—or perhaps, he was just trying to convince himself. "Don't overthink it, Seraphina. What I feel for her is mostly just... habit." "She made a mistake, and she has to be punished. I took her company to reclaim what belongs to you. Tomorrow's engagement party is the final step." "I will make her kneel and apologize to you in front of everyone. I'll make her admit what she did back then. As long as she bows her head and you get your revenge, this will all be over." "I promise you, after tomorrow, she will never be arrogant in front of you again." Seraphina smiled through her tears, leaning into his embrace, though a flash of malice flickered in her eyes. "I knew you were the most just man in the world, Julian. I'll go wait in the car. The rain is heavy, and I'm not feeling well." "Okay. Let the driver take you back. I want to stay here alone for a while." When Seraphina left, the heavy church doors swung shut again. Julian was left alone in the vast space. The tenderness vanished from his face instantly, replaced by a deep exhaustion and confusion. There was no priest. He knelt alone before the statue of the Virgin Mary, hands clasped, looking like he was praying—or perhaps delivering a monologue of self-deception. His voice was quiet, but in the deathly silence of the cathedral, every word drilled clearly into my ears. "Lord, I have sinned." "I always thought I hated Elara. I thought everything I did was to bring justice for Seraphina. But why... why does my heart ache so much when I imagine her being condemned by the world tomorrow?" "I have to admit, in this three-year game of revenge, I... I fell for her." Hearing this, I didn't feel moved. I felt bile rise in my throat. Fell for me? Trampling my dignity into the dirt and forcing my father to his death—that’s your idea of falling for someone? Julian lowered his head, his voice taking on a tone of naive, almost charitable planning. "But I can't stop. Seraphina lost her legs because of her, and I have a responsibility to give Seraphina closure. Tomorrow's engagement party is Elara's final atonement." "As long as she kneels on that stage and apologizes to Seraphina, I will forgive her." He looked up at the compassionate face of the Virgin Mary, his eyes gleaming with a self-righteous, fanatical light. "I've already planned it out. Once the ceremony is over and Seraphina has cooled off, I'll take Elara away." "I'll use the Thorne family name to protect her so she doesn't actually go to prison. I'll keep her in that lakeside villa in Finland." "Isn't her father sick? I'll hire the world's best specialists to treat him. No matter the cost, I'll save Oliver. That will be my compensation to her." At this, the corners of his mouth actually lifted in a gentle smile, as if he could already see the picture in his head. "By then, she should have learned her lesson. She'll learn to stop lying, stop being willful. I'll make her give me a child. Once we have a child, she'll never be able to leave me. We'll live like we did in Brooklyn. As long as she's willing to be the woman in my shadows, I can give her everything except the title..." "Lord, please bless tomorrow's plan. It will be the starting point for us to begin again." In the shadows, I clamped my hand over my mouth to keep from laughing out loud. What a perfect plan. What an arrogant "starting point." He thought tomorrow's engagement was just a ritual to humiliate me, a way to answer to Seraphina, and a trigger for our "fresh start." But he had no idea that Seraphina wasn't just planning humiliation—she had forged ironclad evidence of "attempted murder by arson." She was setting up a dead end to send me to prison for life! He had no idea that the Oliver he planned to "hire experts to save" had already been lying in a cold morgue for three days. And it was precisely because he froze that money to "teach me a lesson" that my father was stripped of his last chance at surgery. Save Oliver? Julian, you'll have to go to hell to save him. As for a child... You want me to bear the child of the man who killed my father? To be your secret mistress for life? Your "deep affection" is simply nauseating. I watched Julian kneeling there, immersed in his own self-righteousness, and the last spark of warmth in my eyes died out completely. You think you're in control. You think you're granting mercy. You don't realize you're digging a grave you'll never crawl out of. "Amen." Julian crossed himself, stood up, and straightened his collar. He looked much more relaxed, as if he had unloaded a heavy burden and was ready for tomorrow's "win-win" ending. He turned and walked out of the church, disappearing into the rainy night. Once he was gone, I stepped out from behind the pillar. I walked to the spot where he had just knelt and looked up at the statue of the Virgin Mary. "God won't forgive you, Julian," I whispered. "Because I won't either." I took out my phone and confirmed tomorrow's arrangements one last time. Turning around, I strode toward the door. Goodbye, Julian. Chapter 7 The morning of the engagement party. Julian stood in front of the mirror adjusting his bow tie. It was a dark crimson, looking just like dried blood. His phone kept vibrating, the name "Seraphina" flashing on the screen. "Answer it," I said. I was sitting on the sofa, holding a cup of cold coffee, my tone as casual as if I were discussing the weather. Julian glanced at me, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. He seemed caught off guard that I wasn't throwing a tantrum or giving him the silent treatment like usual. He picked up the phone, his voice instantly turning tender. "Don't worry, Seraphina... I know you're nervous... Is your leg hurting again? Okay, I'm coming to pick you up right now." He hung up and looked at me somewhat unnaturally, explaining with a tone of charitable patience, "Seraphina says her leg is hurting bad. She can't handle the ride to the castle alone. I'm going to pick her up and take her to get her makeup done." It was always like this. Every time Seraphina cried pain, he would abandon me without hesitation. Even today, on what was nominally "our" big day. "Go ahead," I said, putting down the coffee cup. I even gave him a faint smile. "Don't keep her waiting." Julian froze. He seemed to be scrutinizing me, looking for even a trace of jealousy or resentment on my face. But he failed. I was as calm as a stagnant pond. "Elara, you're finally being sensible." He walked over, intending to kiss my forehead, but I smoothly dodged him by pretending to reach for something. His hand paused in mid-air, then he withdrew it indifferently and adjusted his cuffs. "Pack your things. The driver will take you to the castle. Remember to wear the outfit I prepared for you, and don't be late. After tonight, everything will be better." "Okay, I won't be late," I looked him in the eye and said softly. "I'm sending you a huge gift." Julian smiled with satisfaction. He thought I had finally submitted, finally willing to bow my head to Seraphina for the sake of that illusory "future." "Good girl." With the heavy *thud* of the front door closing, his tall figure disappeared from sight. The room returned to a deathly silence. I stood up. I didn't change into that humiliating waitress uniform, nor did I wait for the driver. I picked up the suitcase I had packed long ago, took one last look at this cage I had lived in for three years, and walked out without looking back. --- 10:00 AM, JFK International Airport. Rain poured down outside, meandering down the massive floor-to-ceiling windows like the tears I had run out of over the last three years. I gripped a velvet box tightly in my hand. Inside lay the pink diamond ring Julian had once used to propose to me. On the way to the airport, I had originally planned to mail it back to him. But suddenly, I felt he wasn't worthy. Mailing it to him implied I still had some response to him, even if it was anger. I walked over to a trash can in the corner, looking at the priceless ring in my hand. Under the cold airport lights, it glinted with mockery. "Goodbye, Julian." I opened my hand. *Thud.* With a soft sound, the ring fell into the dirty trash, landing among discarded fast-food containers. In that moment, I felt the final weight lift from my heart. I pulled out my SIM card, snapped it in half without hesitation, and tossed it into the bin. The boarding announcement echoed over the intercom. I grabbed my suitcase and headed for security. This time, I didn't look back. --- At the same time, Oheka Castle. The banquet hall was resplendent, the champagne tower refracting dazzling light. The elite of New York had gathered, everyone eagerly awaiting the night's main event—the engagement ceremony between the CEO of Thorne Group and Miss Blackwood. Julian stood center stage, checking his watch frequently, a trace of irritation flashing in his eyes. He wasn't worried that I wouldn't come. He was certain I would—for the money, to beg him to "show mercy" and unfreeze the accounts, to save the father he thought was still alive. "Julian, it's time. Why isn't Elara here yet?" Seraphina sat in her wheelchair, feigning concern as she looked toward the entrance. "Is she throwing a tantrum again just because you came to pick me up this morning?" "She'll be here," Julian said. "She has no choice." Just then, the heavy doors of the banquet hall were pushed open. A spotlight instantly hit the entrance. A figure walked in against the light, wearing a black gown and a black veil. Her height, her figure, even the way she walked looked exactly like me. Julian's eyes lit up. He let out a sigh of relief, the corner of his mouth curving into a smile of total control. "Looks like she finally learned her lesson." He strode down the steps to meet the figure, lowering his voice. "Elara, wearing this is incredibly immature, but since you showed up, I'll take it as you admitting you were wrong..." However, when he reached out to lift the veil, the woman took a step back. She slowly raised her hand and lifted the veil herself. A completely unfamiliar face appeared before everyone. The crowd went into an uproar. "Who are you? Where is Elara?" Julian's smile froze on his face as he demanded sharply. The model impersonating me wasn't intimidated by his aura. "Mr. Thorne, Miss Vance said she couldn't make it. She asked me to stand in for her." Julian's whole body shook, a massive wave of panic instantly gripping his heart. "What the hell does this mean..." "Miss Vance said that once you watch this, you'll understand everything." The model finished speaking and turned to signal the control booth. The massive LED screen in the banquet hall flickered suddenly. Immediately after, a grainy surveillance video jumped onto the screen. --- At the same time, JFK International Airport. I pulled my suitcase through the gate. Through the massive window, I saw a plane piercing through the rain curtain, flying toward the dawn above the clouds. Goodbye, New York. This time, I was truly free.