those humiliating moments are still permanently carved into the internet’s memory.
As I sighed, the light turned green.
I sighed again and drove on.
By the time I reached the next intersection, the comments were gone.
But on my phone, there was a message from five minutes ago.
“Sophie, are you alright?” The number was unfamiliar, and there was no signature.
But in this world, only one person calls me Sophie.
That person, and only that one. I paused for a moment, then chose to delete the message.
That concern came far too late.
Three years have passed.
Whether I’m doing well or not is no longer his business.
The car kept moving; I no longer had time to look back.
Only sometimes, when leaves drift down,
would I think of distant memories.
Before I turned eighteen, I had never suffered even once.
I was the treasured daughter of the Carter family.
I had a chauffeur for everything, and a nanny to care for me every day.
Even my arranged fiancé was the handsome and arrogant rising star of Newport’s elite, Lucas.
Back then, everyone said—
“Miss Carter was born lucky, the brightest jewel in the entire Newport social circle.”
Until the night before the wedding, when I was kidnapped.
They demanded an outrageous ransom from my family.
The total reached a staggering 800 million.
But I wasn’t worried at all.
My parents adored me, and Lucas insisted on marrying me.
Even if it meant draining their entire fortune, they would secure my safety.
At first, the kidnappers treated me somewhat politely.
Until the seventh day, when a bucket of cold water hit me awake.
They yanked my hair and kicked me to the ground.
“Didn’t your family say they couldn’t afford the ransom? Then explain this!”
I looked up.
On the TV screen was Lucas’s triumphant face.
He and Sophia were standing side by side, cutting a ribbon.
Behind them flashed a smug headline:
“Congratulations, Mr. Lawrence, on your first milestone! Another 800 million invested in the new project.”
Eight hundred million.
Exactly eight hundred million.
The kidnappers forced me to call Lucas one last time.
The call connected, but it was Sophia’s voice that answered.
“Mr. Lawrence is busy. Is there something you need?”
“Oh, it’s Miss Carter. Mr. Lawrence doesn’t have time.”
“Oh, come on, Mr. Lawrence, stop fooling around. The meeting is starting soon, and you’ve wrinkled your suit—how will you face the reporters…” The call cut off, their flirtatious banter ending abruptly.