On the eve of our engagement, my boyfriend got drunk at a gathering with his friends.
I stood outside the private room, ready to take him home, but I accidentally overheard him bragging to his friends:
"My girlfriend is totally devoted to me."
His friends praised him and asked him to share his secrets on how to keep his woman in check.
He said, "It was nothing. I just drove four hours across provinces to visit her."
I was touched at first, but then I heard his next sentence:
"She was young, pretty, and clean back then. Even when you factor in the tolls and gas, it was still cheaper than hiring a prostitute."
My heart sank into an icy abyss.
——
We were about to get married, and the beautiful dream I had held onto for years was suddenly shattered.
Inside, I could still hear his clear, pleasant voice: "You guys better not tell her."
"All these years, she’s always believed I truly loved her, saying she’ll never forget the way my eyes sparkled when I was drenched in the rain."
One of his friends, even more drunk than him, slurred, "Bro, you’re really lucky to have found someone that dumb."
Someone else snickered: "Bro, you and your fiancée didn’t meet at a brothel, did you?"
The room erupted in laughter.
I felt dizzy, glancing at the room number, hoping the person who said those words only sounded like Ryan Hale.
But the conversations continued, and Ryan's distinct, gentle voice destroyed the last bit of hope I had.
He jokingly cursed, tossing a beer bottle on the floor:
"I’ll rip your mouth off for saying something like that!"
"Don’t tell her, or I’ll lose my control over her."
While the room buzzed with laughter, my heart felt as cold as a frosty day in February.
Up until that moment, I thought I had found true love—slow-cooked affection in a fast-food era.
I never imagined I had encountered a devil in human disguise.
"Bro, that was years ago. Are you still looking for someone now?"
Ryan’s tone sounded extremely proud:
"Not yet, I’ll wait until I get bored with her."
I was so angry I felt dizzy, clutching the door to keep from vomiting.
Just from how he belittled me in front of his friends,
there was no way I could continue this relationship.
A server noticed my dazed expression and pushed the door open, delivering a case of beer.
The laughter in the room abruptly stopped when they saw me.
Ryan, his face splashed with alcohol, froze on the spot.
He quickly adjusted his expression,
ignoring my upset look, and smiled slightly at me:
"Claire, you came to pick me up?"
He didn’t care about the hurtful things he said.
After all, it wasn’t the first time he had spoken ill of me behind my back.
He was convinced that, with just a few sweet words, the matter would blow over.
But he shouldn’t have let me find out
that his feelings for me were a mix of false affection and deceit.
The atmosphere in the room gradually cooled,
but his brash friends were unfazed.
One of them grinned at me:
"Don’t be mad, sis. It’s bad for your liver. How about a drink with us?"
I ignored him, walked over to Ryan, and slapped him hard.
A red handprint quickly surfaced on his face.
I studied it for a moment—it wasn’t very symmetrical.
Before he could react, I slapped him again with my other hand.
Seeing his cheeks turn bright red, I felt relieved. I threw down a breakup and quickly walked away.
I didn’t want to stay in that disgusting environment for even another second.
Ryan, clutching his burning face, hurried after me, leaving his phone behind.
"Claire, trust me, I was just joking with them!"
Ryan grabbed my hand.
"Why can’t you be more understanding? I didn’t really do it—I was just talking!"
"Everyone chats about stuff like this. If I didn’t join in, I’d be out of place."
I stopped and turned to look into his eyes.
Three years ago, we had just graduated and were living apart because of work.
That summer’s downpour came so suddenly,
and he waited for me after work, standing in the rain outside.
To make sure I’d see him first, he stood outside the car, getting completely drenched.
I remember his clear, bright eyes, shining as they looked at me.
So warm, so intense.
He said with deep affection:
"I missed you so much, Claire."
It was so easy to fall into that kind of tender love.
But now I know the real reason he drove four hours to see me:
because I was cheaper than a prostitute.
Yes, hiring one comes with the risk of getting caught or contracting a disease.
But finding me was cheaper, cleaner, and safer.
And he could make me feel touched while taking whatever he wanted.
It was a win-win situation—why wouldn’t he enjoy it?
I stared into his insincere eyes, disappointment flooding my heart.
"I’ll pack up the gifts you bought me and return them to you."
"This is the end for us."
Ryan stood frozen in place, his confusion seemingly genuine.
He may not have actually gone, but he was already tainted.
And who would want a man who isn’t clean?
At least, I don’t.
Chapter 2While I was still in a daze over my boyfriend of seven years emotionally cheating on me, my mom called.
"Claire, what kind of tantrum are you throwing now?"
"Ryan is such a great guy. You couldn’t find someone like him even with a lantern. And now you're breaking up with him?"
As usual, it was a string of accusations.
Am I really her child, or is Ryan?
"Why don’t you worry about your precious son first?" I retorted.
She still hadn’t gotten used to my sarcasm: " Claire is that any way to speak to your elders?"
"I don’t care. The 100,000-dollar betrothal gift is already in my hands. Consider it your contribution as an older sister to your younger brother!"
Before I could respond, she hung up.
I sighed deeply.
Ryan knows how to get his way.
Doesn’t he realize that’s a bottomless pit?
He used to always consider my opinion, but now he’s learned to act first and force me into a corner.
Maybe I never truly knew him at all.
My family has always favored boys over girls. I barely managed to get into a prestigious university.
My parents secretly hid my acceptance letter, wanting to trade me for a 10,000 dowry.
The principal and teachers tried to reason with my parents, but they refused to let me go.
In the end, I wrote a promissory note, agreeing to pay them 100,000 dollars after I graduated, just to be able to leave.
When I left home, the principal secretly slipped 200 dollars into my hand and told me to study hard.
Of course, my family never gave me a dime for living expenses, so I had to support myself with part-time jobs.
Even so, I never let my studies slip.
I consistently ranked first in my class.
By all accounts, I was supposed to receive a scholarship.
But connections trump everything.
I was counting on that scholarship to pay for my next semester's tuition, when this devastating news hit me.
I had little money, and it had been a long time since I’d eaten a full meal.
I fainted, and when I woke up, I saw a transfer in my bank account, labeled "Scholarship."
It was Ryan who fought for me and used his family’s influence to secure the scholarship spot.
And the money? He covered it in advance.
He never liked doing group assignments, and I always ended up doing them for him.
He knew it was awkward, so he’d transfer me enough money to cover my expenses for six months as compensation.
For me, someone preparing for graduate school, it was a lifeline.
I’ve always felt a sense of gratitude toward Ryan.
It’s no exaggeration to say that half of his good grades were thanks to me.
But over the years, I’ve helped him enough.
In every aspect, I never embarrassed him.
Maybe, though, he never really brought me into his true circle.
After I slapped Ryan, we didn’t contact each other for a while.
I packed up everything he gave me and returned it all.
It wasn’t that he didn’t try to reach out, but every time I thought of his words, "I’ll wait until I get bored of her," I felt disgusted.
Besides, I’m aware of my worth.
When we officially started dating, Ryan’s mother came to see me.
She gave me a meaningful look, then took a casual sip of coffee.
"You’re still young. If you’re going to date, fine, but don’t cause any trouble."
She naturally assumed I was a gold-digger and had already written a soap opera in her mind where I got pregnant to secure my place.
She investigated my background.
When my mom saw the impressive people she sent, she immediately asked for a dowry of 660,000 dollar.
When I heard the recording, I didn’t know where to put my face.
It was at that moment that Ryan arrived and pulled me out of that oppressive, gloomy room.
Because he stubbornly insisted on being with me, his family cut off his financial support.
With graduation approaching, the expenses were piling up.
He just ruffled my hair and told me not to worry.
How did the boy who was willing to turn against his family for me end up so rotten without me noticing?
Chapter 3I majored in journalism and, after graduating, started working at a daily newspaper.
The company I applied to rejected me after learning about my family background.
It was Ryan who pulled some strings to get me in.
This is the first time in years that I’ve taken a day off.
I wanted to take the time to plan out my future path.
Just as I was drafting my leave request, the editor-in-chief messaged me:
"I heard you're quite familiar with Sir Ryan, right? There happens to be an exclusive interview, I'm assigning it to you."
"Two thousand dollar bonus, and your promotion will be prioritized."
I was about to decline, but the words caught in my throat.
It was obvious—this was Ryan’s idea, just to make me go back and beg him.
In the past, whenever he coaxed me and apologized, I’d make excuses for him in my heart.
For the first time, I went against his will, and he found it refreshing.
For someone like him, a spoiled Sir Ryan, when had he ever faced setbacks?
I sighed and began preparing the interview questions.
The next day, Ryan cheerfully told me he had arranged an extra day of leave for me.
Once again, making decisions for me without considering my opinion.
He can be very charming, but I’ve known him too long, and seen through him too well.
Beneath his wealthy, handsome exterior lies a rotten soul.
As I turned off the recorder, I stood up to leave.
Ryan looked pitiful, tugging at my sleeve,
"Claire, can we sit down and have a proper talk?"
I knew if we didn’t resolve things now, he would make more trouble for me later.
I glanced at my watch, "You have fifteen minutes."
He nodded obediently, just like when he promised to quit smoking and was caught sneaking cigarettes.
But after all this time, nothing really changed, and knowing him, it never would.
He always liked to push the blame onto others, never admitting his own faults.
"Claire, I was just joking with them that day, trying to show off..."
Ryan cautiously looked up at me.
Whether it was a joke or the truth, we both knew.
My love should not be a tool for your bragging.
After dating Ryan for so many years, it felt like I was raising a child who would never grow up—
Not only managing my own life but also protecting his fragile ego.
"Claire, believe me, I didn’t betray you!"
I packed up my things and left,
ignoring the tears that were about to fall from his eyes.
When he saw that this tactic wasn’t working, he switched to his face-changing routine:
"Claire, don’t think you can do whatever you want just because you have my love!"
"I’ll be waiting for the day you come begging me to take you back!"
His face turned cold, and he gritted his teeth, ready to make me pay.
But I won’t regret it.
You might not know, but on my alternate account, you’re my only friend.
Under a notorious solicitation account, there’s a line that reads, "You have a friend following this page."
I brainwashed myself into blindly trusting you, that’s all.
Besides, my colleagues in the entertainment section had already told me—
Your mom has found you a fiancée for an arranged marriage.
After finishing the interview script, I went to the parking lot, only to be blocked by one of Ryan’s friends.
"Sister-in-law, no need to take Ryan’s drunken words so seriously, right?"
The blonde guy leaned against my car with a sly grin, arms crossed, looking at me with ill intentions.
I stared at him coldly, "Move aside."
The grin on his face only widened, showing off a set of yellowing teeth.
"Hey, no rush, sister-in-law. I heard you’re thinking of breaking up with Ryan?"
"That’s our fault, but Ryan wasn’t wrong—
Sister-in-law, you’re in your twenties and still look as fresh as a teenager."
I frowned at his increasingly smug expression, sensing something was off.
He moved closer, trying to reach out and touch my face.
"Sister-in-law, if you break up with Ryan, why not give me a chance? I’m in way better shape than that scrawny chicken Ryan!"
He dared to lay a hand on me?
I couldn’t hold back—I threw a punch right at his face.
Before he could react, I swiftly dialed the police.
It was Ryan who bailed him out.
He even brought takeout for the guy, making sure he wasn’t mistreated.
I recognized the brand—luxurious and pricey, something I had long dreamed of trying.
Ryan had once promised,
that once he was established at work, he’d take me there to celebrate.
Even after I had enough money, I waited for him instead of going on my own.
This hope had been worn down over time,
and seeing that takeout finally extinguished it.
I lowered my eyes, a mocking smile tugging at my lips.
After comforting his friend, Ryan instinctively looked for the person who called the police.
When he saw me, he assumed I was there for the interview.
"Well, well, Claire the journalist, still working, huh? Haven’t they fired you yet?"
He tried to act cool, whistling at me,
but I shut him down with a glare.
When he finally realized I was the one who sent his friend to jail,
his face softened in an attempt to appease me.
"Claire, he was just looking out for me…"
I couldn’t help but laugh at his attempt.
Looking out for you?
Since when does that justify harassment and groping?
Some people only realize the sting of a slap when it lands on their face!
I had acted in self-defense, and his friend had committed sexual harassment. He’d likely stay in jail for a few days.
I leaned in close, my voice dripping with sarcasm,
"If groping me is his way of looking out for you, then you’re pretty cheap, aren’t you?"
Ryan’s face turned pale,
but after a moment, he regained his composure.
"Claire, he’s the son of an important business partner for my family. If you send him to jail, it’ll be hard for me to explain to them."
I wasn’t planning to engage with him.
Since the moment he said those words,
I had begun reevaluating our relationship.
Is someone this insincere still worth my love?
If I weren’t strong enough to defend myself, I might’ve been assaulted.
And yet, Ryan wasn’t concerned about me—he just wanted to get his friend out of trouble?
What am I, a saint?
I chuckled to myself,
wondering why it took me this long to see through his false kindness.
Seeing that I wouldn’t budge, Ryan gritted his teeth and handed me a bank card.
"There’s 180,000 dollar in here, money I saved to marry you."
"Don’t worry, I’ll definitely get my parents to agree!"
I was so angry I saw stars. I slapped his hand away.
"Stop flattering yourself!"
Everything he did seemed innocent on the surface, but underneath, it was rotten.
Ryan stood there, holding the card, dumbfounded. His eyes began to redden.
This trick had worked on me countless times before.
By now, I would’ve felt sorry for him and comforted him.
But this time, I was numb to his antics.
" Ryan, I’m giving you two options."
"One, he apologizes to me and gets it on record, and you stop bothering me."
"Two, I write a settlement agreement, and we discuss compensation."
Ryan hesitated, holding the card.
"Claire, how about you write the settlement and he apologizes? Would that work?"
He frowned at me, "I don’t want my family knowing my friend got arrested for harassing you. It wouldn’t look good for any of us."
"Especially for you, Claire. You’ll be entering our social circle, and this could hurt your reputation."
I didn’t respond and signed the settlement for his friend.
Watching Ryan smile with relief, I unhesitatingly slapped him across the face.
"We’re done. Stay out of my life from now on."
I took a step closer and whispered,
"By the way, your friend said you’re just a weak little chicken compared to him!"
Leaving him with a black face, I walked away in a surprisingly good mood.
While driving home, the editor-in-chief called me, which was unusual after work hours.
"Hey, Claire, the Hale family pressured us to fire you…"
I went silent.
Damn it.
I should’ve thrown the interview script in Ryan’s face.
The editor-in-chief could only help by negotiating a hefty severance package.
As much as I fumed, I knew I couldn’t go up against the powerful Hale family. How could I even think of revenge?
Why does Ryan insist on cheating, yet still want to stay with me?
When I first started dating him, he would often take me to places I couldn’t afford. I gently mentioned it to him, but he would pout and carefully cut my steak, muttering softly, “I just want my self to get used to my world ahead of time.”
Back then, I felt guilty yet happy. But looking back now, it was just him showing off his superiority to me time and time again. Thanks to my study guides, Ryan, who used to skip classes and go racing, could still pass his final exams. Using my guilt and love, he had no trouble getting his name added as the project leader and winning scholarships. I was just a source of blood for him to drain.
Suddenly, it all became clear. Ryan kept chasing after me because I still had some value to him. I wasn’t sure what it was, but what he sought from me wasn’t small.
I was feeling a headache. Not only did I have to protect myself, but I also had to figure out how to bring Ryan and his family down.
Just as I was brooding over it, the phone rang.
“I’m Ryan’s fiancée. Can we talk?”
My heart skipped a beat. Even though I was nervous, I composed myself and went to meet this young lady. Who would have thought, Emily glanced at me coldly and said, “A good graduate of University A, why on earth would you become Ryan’s mistress?”
“You’re living such a miserable life; why not beg me for help?”
My mind buzzed, and I was stunned. Mistress? What the hell? Mistress?!
Seeing my face turn pale, Emily frowned and waved her hand dismissively at me. “You alright?” she asked with a bit of concern and then showed me her phone. “Look, he said it himself.”
I saw the message from Ryan: “Her? Just a side chick. If you don’t like her, I’ll cut her off before the wedding.”
The coldness in my heart deepened even further. The hurt from this added another scar. Perhaps my expression was too grim and scared the naïve young lady. Emily hesitated and said, “Honestly, I’m not that into him anyway…”
“I have no one and no power. I’d like to ask you to help me break off this engagement.”
“I don’t mind giving him to you,” she added, after some thought, handing me a USB drive. “I think after you see what’s in here, you’ll want to work with me.”