Chapter 4

"It’s my fault for being tactless and saying the wrong thing! Hit me or yell at me if you want, but please don’t fire me!"

Looking at her crying on the floor like that, I eventually let her go without saying another word.

Back then, Ryan had wrapped his arms around me and clung to me affectionately. "Baby, why are you being so kind? I honestly wanted to fire her immediately for making you upset.

"Well, since you forgave her, I’ll respect your decision. Don’t worry. I’ll pile extra work on her and make her work overtime as punishment."

At the time, I thought it was sweet. I never doubted Ryan’s feelings for me.

Unfortunately, Georgia kept pushing boundaries again and again. Now she could even control my bank accounts and cards without hesitation. There was no way she could’ve done all this without Ryan backing her behind the scenes.

When I woke up, Ryan still hadn’t appeared.

Instead, my lawyer, Bryson Stephenson, was sitting beside my hospital bed. His expression was cautious as he explained the situation to me, "Mr. Newman left town with his secretary for a business meeting. He said he won’t be back until tomorrow."

He studied my face carefully before continuing, "I pulled their attendance and travel records from the past two weeks and discovered they’ve been taking frequent ‘business trips’ together... but the destinations were... unusual."

He handed me a report.

I looked down at the listed locations. Not a single one matched any city where Sterling & Co. Holdings had business partners. Every destination was a luxury vacation hotspot.

"I also spoke to several employees," Bryson said quietly. "They mentioned Georgia often posts photos on social media from her trips with Mr. Newman. Would you like to see them?"

He handed me his phone. The screen was filled with countless screenshots of Georgia’s posts. Every single one was carefully curated.

One caption read: "Thank you for driving me home tonight, Mr. Newman. Just the two of us again."

Another said: "I complained about working overtime being exhausting, and someone bought me the bag I’ve always dreamed of as a reward for my hard work."

And one post simply read: "I casually mentioned wanting to take a holiday, and he whisked me abroad overnight. If this isn't love, what could it be?"

Bryson went on, "Our investigation into Georgia’s university background showed that she had a long-term anonymous sponsor who paid for her education.

"The benefactor was none other than Mr. Newman. Her former roommates also confirmed she used to brag about having a wealthy older benefactor. And according to them, she was referring to Mr. Newman."

The weight of these revelations felt like a blade being twisted in my heart; Ryan’s betrayal had started years ago.

"There’s one more thing," Bryson said softly, handing me another folder. "I think you need to see this."

The moment I opened it, my legs nearly gave out beneath me. My fingers shook uncontrollably as I gripped the edge of the folder.

Following a prolonged silence, I managed to release a trembling breath.

"Take me home first," I whispered. "I need time to think."

When I finally arrived home, I froze in shock. My house had been sealed off.

The heirloom jewelry my parents had spent twenty years preparing as my wedding gift—pieces worth fortunes beyond imagination—were being carried out box by box, and locked inside large security vaults.

I immediately rushed forward and grabbed one of the workers. "What are you doing?! Put my things down!"

The men coldly shook me off and continued packing the jewelry away one piece at a time.

Then one of them looked at me and said—