Chapter 1

Everything rewound to three years ago.

At a private club in Jansburke, a man was scrubbing the toilet with effort. He was about six feet tall, but the oversized uniform made his frame look even thinner and more haggard than he already was.

When he finally finished, he slumped to the floor, exhausted, and pulled out a photo. In the picture were his father, his younger brother, and himself.

"Alistair, someone puked in the Celestial Room. Go take care of it."

Alistair York had been out of prison for three months. The first thing he wanted to do was pick up his younger brother, Corey York, from the orphanage. But as an ex-convict, he had to prove that he had a stable job before he was allowed to take Corey away.

Finding work had not been easy for him—a man with only a high school diploma and a criminal record was labeled dangerous anywhere he went. No one wanted to hire him, not even as a waiter.

Fortunately, the club was a place where all kinds of people came together. They didn't care about his past.

The private room was loud and boisterous. It was a small gathering of more than a dozen young people. Some were playing cards, and some were singing karaoke. Everyone was having a great time.

No one paid any attention to the janitor. Alistair knelt on the floor and started cleaning up the vomit.

Suddenly, a young woman's voice cut through the noise. "Well, if it isn't the star student and campus heartthrob from our old high school. Back then, if someone borrowed his pen, he'd wipe it down with an alcohol wipe for ages. Now, he's on his knees scrubbing puke. Looks like he doesn't even think it's gross at all."

Alistair recognized her as Vera Campbell, a former classmate who had once confessed her feelings to him. After he turned her down, she had graciously said they could still be friends.

But later, when everything had gone wrong, she'd been one of the people who'd mocked and insulted him the most viciously.

The stench of vomit was strong. Alistair silently sped up his movements.

Vera suddenly kicked him hard, sending him sprawling right into the sticky mess. "I'm talking to you. Are you deaf? Or do you still think you're that big-shot campus heartthrob and everyone's supposed to revolve around you?"

"Ugh." Alistair swallowed the pain and the disgust, a bitter taste rising in his mouth.

Deaf? Damn straight he was.

After Geri Winslow had him thrown into prison on a trumped-up charge, she'd arranged for him to be given "special treatment". He'd gotten into a so-called accident in his first month inside, and the blast had blown out his left eardrum.

Vera wanted to keep going, but another former classmate stopped her. "Oh, stop. Why are you getting mad at trash like him? Back in the day, he was the school's golden boy. He was proud and came from a good family.

"Sure, he lost his mother young, but his father was the best surgeon in Jansburke. He was good-looking, too, and the Winslow family's princess was crazy about him. But look at him now. He's just a spineless loser who doesn't even fight back no matter what others do."

Someone spat at Alistair. He distinctly felt a glob of spit land on his head.

If this had been the old days, he would've fought back long ago. But… the bullying in senior year, the three years of torment after graduation, and the three years in prison had already crushed every last bit of pride in him.

If he truly had no one, he would've gone down swinging, even if it meant dying. But he couldn't. He still had Corey. If he fought back, Corey would become Geri's punching bag.

"Serves him right! Geri treated him so well. When the equipment room at school caught fire back then, she barely escaped with her life. But the second she heard he was still trapped inside, she rushed back in to save him without a second thought.

"She grew up being pampered like a princess, yet she was left with a huge scar across her back from that fire. Her throat was damaged for half a year!

"And what did he do? He held a grudge against Mrs. Winslow for not letting him be with Geri. While Geri was recovering, he pushed Mrs. Winslow down the stairs and left her in a coma!"

Talking about the past had all the old classmates riled up again.

"A social-climbing leech like him deserves to die!"

"I can't believe he tried to leech off the Winslow family's sole heiress. Who did he think he was?"

Dozens of eyes pinned Alistair in place, dragging him back to the nightmare that had been his senior year of high school.

That year, everyone had said that it was his fault that Geri's mother, Margaret Rollins, had ended up in a coma. Even Geri had hated him to the core.

With a simple command from her, his father, George York, had gone from a renowned doctor to a reviled killer. In the end, he'd "killed himself in shame" in prison.

Geri had turned their prestigious high school into Alistair's personal hell. Every single day he attended class, he lived through relentless bullying. At first, he'd fought back as hard as he could, even considering transferring schools to escape.

But every time he resisted, word came from prison that George had been injured again. Then, the one time he'd actually tried to transfer schools, news arrived that George had died instead.

On the day of the funeral, Geri had actually shown up with a single daisy in hand. She politely placed it before George's grave. However polite her movements were, her words were that much colder.

"Stay put in the prison I built for you, and your younger brother will be safe. You don't want him to end up as ashes in an urn, too, do you?"

Later, Alistair finally took the SAT and scored exceptionally well. But through Geri's manipulation, not a single college was willing to take him. Thus, he could only work odd jobs.

Geri despised him so much that she refused to let him work any job that offered the slightest bit of dignity. The only things she allowed him to do were drifting, busking on the streets, picking through trash, and begging…

She stripped away every possible path to a respectable life, turning Alistair into a filthy, beaten stray that everyone avoided like the plague.

And with one casual scheme, she'd gotten him sentenced to three years in prison.

Alistair finally finished cleaning up the vomit. He wanted to flee the room, but as soon as he turned around, he crashed into a man.

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" He bowed his head and apologized profusely.

"Damn it! My new watch! What the hell, you piece of trash? Get away from me!"

Alistair froze. He knew this man—Jonah Graham. He was Geri's college boyfriend.

Back when Alistair had worked part-time at their college, he'd seen Geri kiss Jonah countless times, all soft and tender.

It seemed that she really did love Jonah—so much so that when Alistair had accidentally gotten one of Jonah's leather shoes dirty, she'd had Alistair thrown behind bars just to placate Jonah.

"I'm sorry. I'll get out of your way right now!" Alistair hastily said.

If Jonah were here, that meant Geri…

No. He absolutely couldn't let Geri notice him.

Alistair hunched his shoulders and tried to slip past Jonah. But then, he heard a woman's voice that made his blood run cold.

"Alistair." A sharp laugh followed. "Long time no see."