Chapter 3

The back room was cold and damp. Having not yet fully recovered from his gunshot wound, Caelan passed out after kneeling for merely three hours. By midnight, he developed a high fever.

In his feverish delirium, he seemed to have traveled back to when he was 13. After his parents had died in a car accident, his relatives who had doted on him began treating him like a burden no one wanted to take in. None of them wanted to raise him, yet every one of them wanted a piece of the inheritance his parents had left behind.

That was until Misty—aged 23—entered the picture. Before the solemn funeral hall, her waist-length black hair complemented the cold, haughty look in her eyes, fitting for the first heiress of Portside. Yet, when she spoke to Caelan, her voice was extraordinarily gentle. "Don't be afraid. No one will ever dare to pick on you again. I'll always protect you!"

"You're lying…" Tears slid down from the corners of Caelan's tightly shut eyes. His pale, handsome face flushed as he murmured in his sleep, "You won't... protect me ever again..."

As soon as the words left his lips, the woman beside him, who had reached out to wipe away his tears, froze. After a long silence, she let out a soft sigh, turned around, and left.

When he came to, two days had passed. His wound had been restitched, his clothes had been changed into clean pajamas, and even his body felt remarkably clean and dry.

The commenters were quick to give credit.

[Misty has been doing pretty well these past two days. Not only did she find the best doctor to give Caelan cosmetic stitches, but she also stayed by his bedside, wiping away his sweat and helping bring his fever down.]

[Tears welled up in her eyes when she saw Caelan's wounds... Can't he forgive her?]

[This is so sweet! Misty just canceled a multi-million-dollar project meeting to rush back home as soon as she heard Caelan came to.]

After hearing the click of high heels coming from downstairs, Caelan's heart stirred. Without a second thought, he got out of bed and hurried toward it.

When he made his way down the stairs, the front door of the villa swung open. Caelan instinctively smiled as he went to greet her. "Misty, you're home!"

The very next second, however, he was met with Misty's ice-cold gaze. A shiver ran down his spine, and his steps ground to a halt.

Misty refused to let him escape, though. She grasped his arm and gritted out, "Caelan Hanson, you used my name to pressure Portside Press Holdings into firing Ezra. You drove him to an emotional breakdown, and while he was distracted crossing the street, he got into an accident. How dare you still call me by my name!"

Caelan blanched and shook his head frantically. "I didn't—"

Misty seemed to have anticipated his denial. "Deny it all you want. Ezra's colleague literally heard you threatening the Portside Press Holdings' chief editor over the phone with his own ears! You're the only person in this entire city who hates Ezra enough to sabotage him out of jealousy. If you didn't do it, are you trying to tell me that Ezra reported himself and threw away the dream job he worked so hard to land?"

Caelan felt as though a bolt of lightning had struck him out of the blue. Misty had once again blamed him without rhyme or reason. The anger and resentment he had bottled up in his heart finally overflowed.

He stubbornly lowered his gaze and met Misty's eyes, his tone laced with sarcasm. "Knowing me, if I were behind this, Ezra would've been beaten black and blue and chased out of Portside the day he shamelessly latched onto you! I told you, I didn't do it!" He trembled with anger, his fingernails digging so deeply into his palms that they nearly drew blood.

Misty eyed him skeptically for a few seconds. However, a heartbeat later, she received a voice message from Ezra. His voice sounded weak as he said, "Misty, I don't blame Caelan. He's just throwing a tantrum because he feels insecure... I guess it's my fault, too.

"If I'd listened and agreed to resign the first time Caelan asked me privately, he wouldn't have resorted to such extreme measures now... Besides, my leg's just fractured. It's not a big deal." His tone was innocent, yet every single word he said fanned the flames.

Misty's expression darkened in an instant. "Ezra has been hurt by you time and time again, yet he's still kindhearted enough to make excuses for you. You, on the other hand, never know how to reflect on your actions or apologize. I'm so disappointed in you. Since your recklessness has cost Ezra the job he loved most, it's only fair that you get a taste of what it feels like to lose something precious, too!"

She nodded at her bodyguard, who immediately headed toward Caelan's room. Caelan's heart sank bit by bit until he saw the bodyguard emerge with a box filled with the belongings of his late parents, Christian Hanson and Chloe Truman. He was dumbstruck.

"Burn it," Misty ordered. She'd only said two words, yet they shattered Caelan's heart completely.

"No!" Caelan lost all composure. He screamed at the top of his lungs and tried to lunge forward to protect the last memories of his parents left in this world, but the other bodyguards held him back firmly.