Chapter 3

"Help me get in touch with that investment bank that's been trying to poach me. I'm ready to jump ship," I told the headhunter.

At the same time, I started going through all the assets we held jointly. Since everything was already tainted, I might as well destroy it all.

…

The company's semi-annual team-building dinner was held at an upscale seafood restaurant.

Ruby insisted on bringing Emmett along and had him sit to her right. Meanwhile, I—the so-called soon-to-be fiance—was squeezed into a corner at the far end of the long table.

Throughout dinner, Ruby's attention never left Emmett. She peeled shrimp for him and tended to him with meticulous care.

No one mentioned me. I might as well have been an extra on the scene.

Suddenly, Emmett looked up, his eyes landing on one of the restaurant's signature dishes on the table—shrimp croquettes coated in thick, fruity sauce.

He spooned one up himself and, in front of everyone, placed it onto my plate.

"Mr. Keaton, this is the restaurant's signature dish. Give it a try."

He smiled innocently, but his eyes gleamed with malice.

The entire company knew that I had a severe allergy to mango and certain types of seafood. This was especially true of mango, where even the slightest trace could cause my throat to swell shut and be potentially fatal.

And the main ingredient of that dish's sauce was none other than mango puree.

Ruby had always been extremely cautious about this. Even when eating out, she'd always warn the chef in advance. But now, she merely glanced at my plate and spoke as if it didn't matter.

"Em served it to you. Just eat one. Don't embarrass him in front of everyone. You're just being a baby. Eating one won't kill you."

The colleagues around us started to egg me on, saying I should at least do her the courtesy. Their noisy clamor stabbed into my ears like sharp needles.

To prevent the scene from turning completely awkward—and to see exactly how heartless Ruby could be—I took a small bite right in front of her.

Within three short minutes, my neck began to burn. A suffocating sensation rushed over me like a tide, and I could feel my throat swelling rapidly.

"Ru… Ruby…"

I barely managed to squeeze out her name, pleading for her help.

But Ruby happened to be whispering something in Emmett's ear, and my interruption made her visibly annoyed.

"What now? Do you really need to put on an act over just one shrimp croquette?"

Just then, Emmett suddenly let out a yelp, clutching the back of his hand.

"Ouch! That hurts. I think a mosquito bit me. Look, there's a little red bump."

Ruby's expression changed instantly as she anxiously cradled his hand.

"How could you be so careless? Is it an allergic reaction?"

She frantically blew on the barely visible red spot, her eyes overflowing with concern.

"Don't worry. I've got imported ointment in the car. We'll go put it on now."

She shook off my hand, which I had stretched out in desperation, not even sparing me a glance. With Emmett pressed to her side, they walked out of the private room, leaving me behind.

Under everyone's stares, I gasped for air like a fish out of water. My vision began to blur, and my consciousness slowly slipped away.

In the end, it was a passing waiter who noticed something was wrong with me and called 911.

…

The lights in the ER were blindingly harsh. Medication was pushed into my vein by the doctor, and my oxygen mask fogged with every breath.

In that moment, while I listened to the steady beeping of the monitors, I found my heart strangely calm.

Ruby, the woman who had sworn she'd love me and honor me for the rest of her life, had abandoned me while I was on the verge of death… all for a mosquito bite.

…

It was three days later before I was discharged.

That was when Ruby finally called, and the first thing out of her mouth was a complaint.

"Bruno, where have you been the past few days? I couldn't get through on your phone either. Em is having trouble with a proposal. Hurry back to the office and help him fix it.

"And you really overdid the whole 'sick act' at the team-building dinner, too. You ruined everyone's good time."

I gripped the phone, listening to that entitled tone of hers.

My throat still ached faintly—an aftereffect of intubation.