I had trained my cooking skills for three years. Sacrificing so much of my life to achieve it. But Bryan stole it and easily gave it to Livia!
Three years of my love turned out to be just the time he needed to steal my dream. And hand it over to his adopted sister.
The cruelest part is that he got me pregnant not out of love. But so that I would stay—until he got everything he needed from me.
In my wheelchair, I insisted on going to report it to the culinary association. I would say that it was my ticket and my recipe.
But in front of that large building, Bryan suddenly appeared behind me. His hands held the wheelchair until I couldn't move.
"Elena, it turns out you're a reckless woman."
"If you keep sabotaging Livia's dreams... your father in prison will die upon hearing something bad about you."
I froze. "What do you mean?"
Bryan calmly showed him his phone screen. The fake news was ready—I was accused of climbing the culinary ladder by selling myself to great chefs. The media would spread it.
"I hired someone to create fake news. Your father has heart disease. How do you think he'll react when he finds out about all this?"
It felt like my body had been thrown into an icy waterfall.
Father, the only family I have. Completely innocent and uninvolved, yet used as a tool for Bryan's gain. He was imprisoned for past accusations, and now Bryan was putting his life in danger.
My emotions rose to my chest. "Bryan... don't involve my father—"
"None of this will happen as long as you obey," Bryan cut in lightly and too casually.
My hands clenched tightly on the wheelchair. "What else do you want, Bryan?"
"Easy. Cancel your report," he said lightly. As if he were telling a joke. "Just say you're injured, so Livia will replace you in the elite competition. Then your father will be safe."
I fell silent.
A single tear fell from my eye as I stared in disbelief at the man I thought had loved me three years ago.
Now he stood there, destroying my life just for another woman.
He didn't even care about my condition, nearly dead after eight stab wounds to the stomach. Nor about our miscarried baby.
"Elena, don't think too much. I know you love your father very much."
My mind suddenly felt empty.
I had lost so much already. My dreams, my unborn child, and now I didn't want to lose my father.
Just like that, my whole body went limp. I couldn't say anything except the word, "Yes."