Chapter 3

Wyatt's POV

"Give me back my watch!" I roared as I lunged at Patrick, trying to snatch my watch back.

It was the only keepsake my father had left me. I had kept it safe all these years and was reluctant to even touch it too much. I never expected Patrick would take it too.

But before I could get close, Callista suddenly shoved me to the ground. She spread her arms wide and stood firmly in front of Patrick. "I gave this to Mr. Goldstein! Just name your price! I'll transfer it to you right now!"

Callista raised her phone watch, looking like she was about to transfer me the money.

I was so shocked that I couldn't even feel the pain. Looking at Callista in front of me, I felt my limbs go numb. "Callista, what did you say?"

So she repeated impatiently, "I asked you to name your price! You're willing to sell anything for money, aren't you? So hurry up and name me your price!"

I felt as if my heart were being squeezed tight, so tight that I struggled to catch my next breath.

Back when Callista was too young to even string a sentence together, I had shown her that watch. I told her it was a symbol of her grandfather, that my father was gone, and that this was all I had left to remember him by.

Back then, she had thrown herself into my arms and tried to make me feel better, saying, "You still have me, Daddy."

But now, wearing the phone watch I had bought her, she wanted to buy my most treasured possession and give it away to someone else.

Patrick pretended to take it off. "Sorry, Wyatt. Callie said you never wear it, so I figured you didn't want it anymore."

Chelsea, who had been talking to the wedding planners, heard the commotion and hurried over.

When she saw Patrick taking off the watch, she immediately shot me a displeased look. "Wyatt, what are you making a fuss about now? It's just a watch. It's not like you wear it anyway. What's the big deal if Pat borrows it for a bit?"

Unable to hold it back any longer, I roared, "It was my father's! Patrick, must you take even this? Aren't you afraid my dad will come for you at night?"

Hearing my words, Chelsea looked a little embarrassed. "It's fine, Pat. Just give it back. I'll buy you a new one. It's bad luck wearing something that belonged to a dead person anyway."

Callista chimed in right after, "Yeah! Mom will get you a bigger and nicer one!"

With that, she took the watch Patrick had removed and hurled it at me.

"No!" I reached out frantically to catch it, but I could only watch as it hit the ground hard. It shattered upon impact immediately.

In that instant, I felt as if part of myself had shattered too. I dropped to my knees, scrambling to pick up the broken pieces as tears streamed down my face and splattered on the ground.

"Stop picking them up," Chelsea said when she caught sight of the bloody scratches on my hands.

She frowned and reached out to pull me up. "It's just an object. Is it really worth all this?"

I shook off her hand, my eyes already bloodshot. I flung the divorce agreement I had prepared long ago onto her face. "Forget it, Chelsea. We're—"

But Chelsea got the wrong idea. She thought the divorce agreement was a share transfer document.

She gripped the papers with a cold expression on her face. "So money alone isn't enough for you now, Wyatt? You're setting your sights on the company too? You probably let Callie take that watch on purpose, didn't you? Just so you can guilt-trip me into giving you shares?"

She let out a cold laugh and signed her name without even looking at the document. "What a schemer you are, Wyatt. I won't hold it against you this time, but I'm not going to tolerate the same trick a second time!"

She tossed the papers back at me and walked off without looking back.

I sat on the ground, staring at the fluttering sheets of paper and laughing bitterly.

What she didn't know was that there wasn't going to be a next time. I was done with both her and Callista.

…

In the days that followed, I spent every day in the hospital.

The money Chelsea had given me was enough not only for the surgery but also to cover all the follow-up checkups and recovery care afterward.

After a successful heart transplant, I would finally rewrite the tragedy of my previous life and embrace a fresh start.

Finally, the day of the surgery arrived. As I was being prepped for anesthesia, the doctor suddenly took off his gloves. "I'm sorry, Mr. Hammond. We can't proceed with your surgery today…"