A Saboteur on Her Knees

Willa Quinn's brows tightened the moment she heard me.

"What are you throwing a tantrum for?" she snapped. "Go work in the factory for two years and wear out that precious temper of yours. After that, I'll come pick you up."

From her lofty height, she issued another order. "You're going to the factory anyway, so hand your design competition project to Aaron."

I let out a mocking smile.

We had known each other for 25 years and had been engaged for three.

During those three years, I had asked her more than once when she wanted to get married.

Every time, she met me with impatience. She always said she was still young and refused to let marriage tie her down. She would marry me when the time came.

I kept waiting, only to wait for this.

I gave her a cold laugh. "I'm not going to the assembly line, and I'm not giving him my work. He's a street punk. How is he worthy of any of it?"

Aaron Yule's face fell at my words. He frowned as he clutched Willa's sleeve.

"Willa, my family had no money when I was a kid. I dropped out of school early. Someone like me isn't worthy of joining the design competition. Maybe we should just forget it."

Willa immediately took his hand, her eyes flashing with anger as she glared at me. "How can you be so vicious? Is it Aaron's fault that he grew up poor? How could you say something like that?"

She ordered me to apologize to him at once. If I refused, she promised I would pay for it.

As I looked at her cold profile, the last bit of hope in me shattered. I realized this should be the end of us.

Half a month earlier, I had been hospitalized for a stomach condition. I called her, hoping she would visit.

She cursed me, called me pathetic, and even accused me of faking illness to imitate Aaron.

I had no idea he was in the hospital too. I tried to explain, but she gave me no chance. During all five days I stayed there, she never came once.

Now she had switched my design competition application form and submitted an assembly line worker registration form in my name. My disappointment hollowed me out.

The people around us muttered cruelly.

"The great Shane Dalton turned himself into a loser. Pathetic."

"She'd rather be with a street punk than marry him. Dude, maybe look inward."

"Do you think he has some hidden issue? Maybe he's useless."

Their ridicule rose around me. My knuckles went white as I clenched my fist.

I met Willa's gaze and said, "Willa, since this is your choice, I'll grant it. Our engagement is over."

A flicker of panic crossed her eyes when she saw how serious I was. She opened her mouth to speak, but Aaron cut her off in a hurry.

"Mr. Dalton, I know you dislike me, but you can't treat Willa like this. She's a lady after all."

Willa recovered quickly. She folded her arms. "You really think I believe you're calling off the engagement? Weren't you the one begging for my hand? Did you forget how you trotted behind me like a dog back then?"

Aaron doubled over laughing. "Mr. Dalton, stop joking. Do you even realize how ridiculous you look right now? Maybe you just want to entertain us because you think we're boring. Honestly, serving someone as outstanding as Willa isn't shameful."

I didn't respond. My eyes only grew colder.

Willa stepped forward. "Hand over the design drafts right now, or don't blame me when I really end this engagement."