Chapter 3

Time flew by, minute after minute. The clock on the wall kept ticking. The sky had darkened outside.

Jonah's phone sat untouched on the coffee table. His usually composed expression had begun to show a trace of barely concealed impatience.

He picked up the coffee and took a sip, but his frown only deepened. The coffee had gone cold.

Normally, by this time, I would've already replaced it with a warm latte. He remembered that I hated the bitter taste of coffee, yet he had grown used to the warmth I placed beside him at the same time every day.

Zack paced back and forth around the room. "It's already 8:00 pm. How has Julia still not made a move? She couldn't have actually run off to some godforsaken backwater to hide, could she?"

Agatha sat beside the bed, massaging Bonnie's calves. She let out a cold laugh.

"Someone who's been used to a life of luxury could never handle going back to living in some backwater. She's probably been taken in by some shady man.

"I swear, those bad habits she picked up growing up in the countryside will never die."

Bonnie timidly tugged at Agatha's sleeve. "Mom, don't say that about Julia. What if something really did happen to her? You mentioned the head nurse sounded certain when she said it. I can't help feeling uneasy."

Jonah slammed his coffee cup down on the coffee table. It landed with a dull thud.

The entire room fell silent.

"What could happen to her?"

His voice remained unperturbed, but he spoke noticeably faster now.

"She's just figured out that we're desperate for her blood, so she's playing mind games with us. If she wants to play, I'll play along until the very end."

He picked up his phone and called Elijah. "Get in touch with a few media outlets we have connections with.

"Put out stories about how Julia faked her death certificate, how she refused to support her family, and how she abandoned her seriously ill sister.

"Pay for those topics to go viral. I want everyone in the city to know her true colors."

Elijah paused in hesitation. "Mr. Samson, don't you think that's a little too much? She's your fiancee, after all. If the public backlash gets out of control—"

"Just do as I say," he said coldly, interrupting him. "She started it. She can't blame me for hitting back twice as hard. Only when she's cornered will she realize who she can truly depend on."

I floated in the air, watching Jonah coldly issue the order to destroy my reputation. Strangely, I felt unbothered. There was no anger or sadness, just a profound sense of emptiness.

I had to give it to him. He always used that supposedly rational mind of his to calculate exactly how to crush my pride. He thought that if he destroyed all my options, I would come crawling back to his feet.

Unbeknownst to him, I had already been through the kind of desperation he could never imagine.

Less than 30 minutes later, the backlash online snowballed.

Someone edited the footage of Agatha causing a scene in the emergency room and uploaded it online. It came with an inflammatory headline.

"Heiress Fakes Her Own Death Certificate to Get Attention, Even Going So Far as to Curse Herself Dead!"

The comments were filled with abuse directed at me.

"What an evil woman. She doesn't even care if her own sister lives or dies."

"Agatha must have the worst luck in the world to end up with such an ingrate."

"Quick, dox her! Hold her down until she gives blood!"

Zack read through the comments on his phone, a satisfied smile curling at the corner of his mouth.

"Let's see where she hides now. Maybe she'll finally regret it when the internet tears her apart, and she's too scared to go outside."

Just then, Jonah's phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID, and his eyes instantly sharpened. It was Elijah.

When he answered, his voice carried a hint of smug condescension. "So? Has she finally decided to use her bank card?"

Elijah sounded urgent. "We found her! Her supplementary card was used ten minutes ago near a scrap collection yard in one of the run-down neighborhoods."

Jonah shot to his feet. His gold-rimmed glasses caught the light. "Get the car ready."