Paddy Field Artinya

Before the contract was even signed, the client's representative casually said he was craving pancakes with maple syrup. I didn't hesitate. I texted my fiancé, Nigel Cross, and asked him to stand in line and grab some. He came back with the box, all proud of himself. The client took one bite, and within seconds, his face went red. Hives bloomed across his neck. He shot to his feet, furious, and called the whole deal off on the spot. Then he turned around and handed the million-dollar order to Olivia Field, the intern who had rushed to grab him allergy meds. Three months of grinding work were gone just like that. I stood there, my throat tight, trying not to fall apart. Nigel squeezed my shoulder, his voice soft as he said, "It was just bad luck. Don't beat yourself up." I nodded weakly, drained of energy. But the second I stepped away, I heard him laughing in the break room with his friend. "That guy's seriously allergic to mango. Good thing I added mango syrup to the pancakes. Olivia's about to score a huge year-end bonus. Enough for a down payment on her new apartment." His friend hesitated. "Melissa hasn't slept in a month over that deal. She was working while she was sick. She needed that money for her mom's surgery—" Nigel waved him off, already annoyed. "She has me. Isn't that enough? Olivia earned this." My hands curled into fists so tightly that my nails dug into my palms. Bad luck? Yeah, right. Nigel had planned every second of it. And now, he thought he could smooth it over by marrying me someday, toss me a few cheap words, and I would just swallow it. I was done with that disgusting man.

When the half-mile sprint test is about to begin, Quiana Sullivan, the class president, and I have applied to be exempted from it. My own mother, who's the homeroom teacher of my class, approves Quiana's application with a smile. But she then throws mine to the floor. "You're having a chest pain, you say? I can't believe you're able to come up with such lies just to avoid the half-mile sprint! I'd have known if you had a heart condition! "Quiana is weak by nature, not to mention she's on her period right now, so she can't handle the agony. What about you, hmm? You've always been perfectly healthy, yet now you're telling me that you're suffering from heart pain? "Don't go around embarrassing me just because you want to slack off! I don't want others claiming that I'm being biased toward my own child! As long as you're still alive and kicking, you must finish the half-mile course no matter what!" Left without a choice, I can only return to the field. The cold wind makes me feel even dizzier now. My heart keeps contracting uncontrollably against my will. Suddenly, it just stops pumping. The next thing I know, I collapse onto the grassy field heavily. When my consciousness is about to flicker to darkness, my mom finally walks over to me. But she merely kicks my arm with a frown on her face, and her tone remains glacial. "Stop playing dead. Get up right now." She doesn't realize that I can never open my eyes ever again. Isn't this great, Mom? No one will ever claim that you're biased toward your own child. I've used my life to prove how fair and just you are. You must be happy now, right?

When I was five years old, I was kidnapped by the human traffickers. Later on, I was abandoned at Dreadvault Isle's prison meant for serious offenders located in the infamous no-man's land of Cloudguard Continent. In order to avoid dying from starvation, I clung to Edgar Blythe, who was a serial killer with the highest bounty known on the Internet, and called him "Grandpa Eddie". Then, I moved to grip Franklin Graves, a former boxing champion, by his diamond-crusted belt just to beg for scraps. Finally, I entangled myself around a top-tier assassin's leg while yelling at the top of my lungs, "As long as you don't let me starve to death, I'll make sure to take care of you once you grow old!" All the international mercenaries, arms dealers, and professional assassins were stunned by my declaration. In the end, they gave me some leftovers from their own plates. That was how I was raised in prison. Since my grandpas have enemies all over the globe, the first thing I do after returning to the country is act like a cowardly impoverished student. When I'm a college sophomore, Leonard Hargrove, a rich scion from a conglomerate, has accused me of stealing his laptop. He even beats me up relentlessly on the campus field and breaks three of my ribs by stomping on my chest. To make things worse, he forces me to swallow blood-drenched soil. I'm in so much pain that I've practically gone nuts and bitten off half of Leonard's ear as a result. Jordan Chappel, the dean of the college, kicks me to the floor when I meet him later on in his office. "Do you really think you're in the right for stealing from someone else, you broke bastard? All he did was hit you a few times! It's not like you'll die from those attacks! "You'd better tell your guardians to come here as soon as possible! I want to see them groveling to me and apologize on your behalf!" After spitting out a mixture of blood and saliva, I turn to stare Jordan dead in the eye. "Are you sure you really want my guardians to show up?"