Chapter 2

When I reached the train station, I bought the earliest high-speed train ticket to go back home.

There were only a handful of people waiting in the waiting area.

As I sat on the cold, metal bench, I watched the train number and schedule rolling on the screen.

Suddenly, I felt an intense pain in my stomach.

I curled up, and a sheen of cold sweat broke out on my forehead.

This was a chronic illness of mine.

In order to earn more money to pay for Wendy’s tuition fees, I often only ate one meal a day, and those meals were just buns and pickles.

I ruined my stomach because of that, but I did not dare go to the hospital, since I was worried about spending money.

What did Wendy say back then?

“Once I’m rich, I’ll bring you to the best hospital and hire the best doctor to treat you. I’ll get you your health back.”

She had already become rich. After becoming the heiress of the mighty Stallone family, one single meal of hers was worth one year of my wages.

However, she had already forgotten about her promise.

She even thought that my illness and aging appearance were an embarrassment to her. I was her burden.

The broadcast stated that it was time for the ticket inspection.

As I endured the pain, I stood up while holding my bag.

Just then, a news report suddenly showed up on the screen.

Wendy was in it. She wore an haute couture gown and held Clark’s hand. While she faced the countless cameras, she smiled like a winner in life.

This was the caption.

[Stallone Heiress returns. Marriage Alliance Impending?]

A reporter asked, “Ms. Stallone, I heard that you had a boyfriend who went through hardship with you. Where is he now?”

The smile on Wendy’s face faded a bit, and she nonchalantly smoothed out her sleeves. “He’s just my housekeeper, and he didn’t know his place. I already sent him away with some money.”

A housekeeper she sent away with some money?

As I stared at the familiar yet strange woman on the screen, I suddenly felt disgusted.

My stomach churned.

I rushed into the washroom and started dry heaving into the basin.

All that came out was stomach acid and bile.

The man in the mirror had yellow skin, dry hair, and sunken eyes.

Was that really me?

I was once the most handsome guy at school, and I was full of confidence. How did I end up like this?

I washed my face. As I stared at my reflection, I said, “Remember this, Zidane. You have nothing to do with Wendy from now on, and you have to make her pay back for all that she owes you in the future, severalfold.”

Once I patted my face dry, I left the washroom.

At the ticket gate, I tore my photo with Wendy to shreds and threw it into the trash can.

‘I’ll see you again, Wendy, and goodbye to the three years I wasted,’ I thought.

When I was on the high-speed train, it started moving.

I leaned back against my seat and shut my eyes.

I was not hoping to see her again because I missed her, but because I could not accept this.

Why did I give up everything and end up with nothing?

How could she use me as her stepping stone and enjoy a life of luxury with a guilt-free conscience?

I could not accept it.

I might have removed my SIM card, but I could still connect to the internet.

So, I checked X and found that the top trending hashtag was about Wendy and Clark’s engagement.

The comments were all congratulatory remarks for them.

[You’re a match made in heaven!]

[Wendy Stallone is so pretty, and Clark Quinn is so handsome!]

[I heard that Wendy Stallone’s ex was a poor idiot who wanted to marry rich. What a joke.]

[I’ve seen plenty of gold diggers like him. He must have wanted to stay with Wendy Stallone because she has become rich. Thank goodness she’s a good judge of character.]

A gold digger?

I laughed in exasperation.

Over the past three years, I was the one who worked hard to buy all of Wendy’s clothes, her food, and all the money she needed to use.

She was the gold digger here!

I went to the account of the person who called me a gold digger, and I saw that it was an alternate account with only hundreds of followers.

My instincts told me that this was a troll Clark hired.

Not only did he steal Wendy from me, but he also wanted to crush me so that I could never make a comeback.

How vicious and cruel.

Just then, I received an email.

It was from a famous law firm.

[Regarding Mr. Zidane Rivers’ inheritance.]

I was stunned.

Inheritance? What inheritance?

With trembling hands, I opened the email.

[Dear Zidane Rivers,]

[Greetings. Your father, Henry Larke, passed away yesterday, and according to his will, you will inherit 51% of Larke Corporation, along with all of his personal property and real estate.]

Henry Larke?

Was he not the enigmatic richest man in the country, and also the man who cast his wife and son aside many years ago?

I was his son?

That was impossible.

Before I could wrap my head around this shocking news, the train came to a screeching stop.

The inertia almost made me fly off my seat.

Shocked cries filled the carriage.

The train attendant’s anxious voice came through the speaker. “Dear passengers, there is a mudslide ahead, and we won’t be able to move forward for the time being.”

It was pouring outside, and mud flowed about.

Subconsciously, I tightened my grip around the phone. As I stared at the email, I started laughing.

‘Wendy, Clark, do you really think that this is the end? No. This is just the beginning,’ I thought.