Cutting Off The Devil

The living room was in an uproar.

Holding Lucy Quinn's hand, Timothy spoke with firm resolve.

"Mr. and Mrs. Lane, I'm sorry to have disappointed you, but I truly love Lucy. I believe that even if I stay in the country, I can still make something of myself."

"That's right, Mr. and Mrs. Lane." Lucy looked up at him, her face full of sweetness. "I believe in Tim. I know he can do it."

When I opened my eyes, I saw my parents' angry and disappointed faces, alongside the painfully affectionate gazes exchanged by the young couple.

My father finally spoke. "Timothy, this is a turning point in your life. We hope you'll think it through carefully."

I interjected calmly, "Mom, Dad, this is Timothy's own choice. You shouldn't interfere."

My parents shot me a disapproving look.

I knew exactly what they were thinking.

Timothy was exceptionally talented in mathematics. At 17, he already won an international mathematics gold medal. His future was dazzling beyond doubt.

If he seized this momentum and went abroad to study now, he would gain far more: better training, a higher platform, wider connections, and deeper exposure in the field.

Yet he was willing to throw away all his past efforts and prospects for the fleeting happiness right in front of him. It was hard not to feel regret.

That was exactly how I thought in my previous life.

So back then, I took the initiative and sent Lucy overseas.

In return, Timothy despised me for the rest of his life.

But I never hid anything from him. The country Lucy went to was the same as the school he was admitted to. If they wanted, they could have seen each other every week.

Yet, Timothy never went to find her.

Instead, while enjoying my family's sponsorship, he mocked and belittled me at every turn.

Later, he rose to fame as a brilliant new star in the international mathematics field, gaining both reputation and fortune.

Meanwhile, my family faced a financial collapse.

At the most critical moment, Timothy exposed what I did back then: how I used money to force him apart from the woman he loved.

Overnight, I became the target of public outrage online, and my family's products were boycotted.

I went to confront Timothy, demanding to know why he did it.

He said coldly, "Didn't you do all of this yourself? Cecil Lane, this is what you deserve. You brought it upon yourself."

"Have you forgotten everything my family did for you?" I screamed at him.

He replied indifferently, "The moment you humiliated Lucy with money and forced her to go abroad, whatever bond we had was completely gone."

Fine. Very well.

After years of sponsorship, my family raised nothing but an ingrate.

Since he turned out to be a heartless ingrate, there was no reason for me to be nice.

I bought a bottle of paraquat and mixed it into the alcohol.

Under the pretense of apologizing, I knocked on Timothy's door and drank with him all night.

Halfway through, he seemed to notice something was wrong. "Why does this liquor taste strange?"

He put the glass down and examined it carefully, but it was already too late.

The poison took effect.

He started foaming at the mouth.

When he saw me showing the same symptoms, he understood everything.

He didn't struggle. Instead, he only looked at me, with a trace of pleading in his eyes.

"Cecil, if there's a next life, please don't tear us apart again."

I agreed.

And so, in this lifetime, I did not write Lucy a check.

I did not force her to choose, and I did not send her abroad.