Chapter 3

Nathan's POV

"What the hell did I ever do to deserve this?" Claire screamed. "Until Victor gets better, you won't earn a single penny!"

I wanted to explain that I had nothing against Victor, but before I could say a word, a black van pulled up in front of me. The men from the underground casino climbed out, brandishing clubs as they closed in.

"Can't make money, yet you're always finding ways to cause me trouble! I got you a job serving drinks, yet you still managed to get yourself fired. You want to go back to taking punches or what?"

"You owe the casino 300,000 dollars in breach-of-contract fees. Get the money together now!"

My face was bereft of color. "I swear I don't have any money…"

All I got in return was a brutal beating. I knew the feeling of a club slamming into my body all too well. So, why did it hurt so much more this time?

When I opened my eyes again, I was back in the home I had dreamed of returning to for so long. It was as luxurious and warm as I remembered.

Approaching me was Dad's loving face. Desperate to feel his touch, I reached out to him. The next second, his palm swatted across my face.

"Are you trying to drive me to my grave? Victor is Claire's true love! How could you spread rumors online that he's a homewrecker? And to think I was going to bring you home. Now, I see there's no point!"

A news alert popped up on my phone. "Finley Group CEO's Fiancé Accused of Being a Homewrecker. The Husband Was Kicked Out of His Own Home and Left to Fend for Himself."

I shook my head, about to explain, but Claire threw a cup of water in my face. Her expression was cold and hostile, so foreign that she frightened me.

"Those injuries on your face are just makeup, aren't they? You went to all this trouble just to drive Victor to the edge, right? Tell me—what will it take for you to leave him alone?"

Something inside me died. Suddenly, death didn't feel so scary anymore.

I stared at the ceiling and let out a silly little laugh. "300,085 dollars. Once I get the money, I'll never bother you again."

The living room fell deathly silent.

Claire suddenly stormed up to me and took me by the collar, her eyes dark with fury. "What did you just say?"

She stared at me in disbelief for a long time, as if she had never known me at all.

"Nate."

Victor's voice broke the tense silence. He rushed over and dropped to his knees in front of me. "Honestly, I don't care if you call me a homewrecker. But the wedding is coming up.

"You should at least think about Claire's reputation and Dad's pride."

Their pride and reputation?

I had spent the past three years fighting to survive under other people's fists. I could only afford to eat when they tossed me a few bucks in tips. Whatever dignity I had was long gone.

All I wanted before I died was to pay off every last debt and give myself a decent urn to be buried in. Was that too much to ask for?

My mouth was full of blood, yet I could only manage a foolish, pathetic grin.

Victor froze for a second, then snatched up a knife and held it against his face, threatening to disfigure himself.

"I'll ruin my face and then admit at the press conference that I'm the homewrecker. I'll give up my place, Nate. Is that enough?"

As he spoke, the knife's tip hovered just above his pale cheek, about to cut through the barrier.

Claire lunged forward and snatched the knife away. "You did nothing wrong, Victor!"

Dad hurried over to comfort him, his heart aching. "My precious son, if you hurt yourself, I won't be able to go on living either!"

I stood apart from them, leaning against the wall for support, looking every bit like the villain of the piece. The farce dragged on for more than ten minutes before things finally settled down.

Claire looked at me with utter disappointment. Her voice was almost cruel as she tested me one last time.

"Go on livestream and set the record straight about Victor. Admit that you're the homewrecker, and I'll give you the money you asked for."