Chapter 1

At the class reunion, Ashley Adams, the prettiest girl from our year, got wasted. Someone asked her what the worst thing she’d ever done was.

She pointed at me, tucked away in a corner, and laughed until tears streamed down her face:

“It was back then, when Dempsey Thorne was showering. I used his phone to delete his broke girlfriend’s desperate plea for help. And I texted back: ‘Get lost!’ You wouldn’t believe it, that poor girl waited out in the torrential rain all night. It was absolutely hilarious…”

The club erupted in laughter.

Dempsey’s wine glass shattered in his hand with a sharp *crack*.

Blood mixed with red wine streamed down his fingers.

He stared at me, his eyes burning.

I calmly offered him a tissue. “Mr. Thorne, long time no see.”

The city’s most exclusive private club was booked solid tonight.

Word was, a new magnate in the venture capital scene, worth hundreds of millions, was back in town and wanted to flaunt his wealth in front of his old classmates.

When Mr. Dawson, the manager, handed me the gilded wine list, his eyes held an unreadable hint of pity:

“Chloe, that private room tonight… if you don’t want to go, I can arrange someone else.”

I glanced down, adjusting my ill-fitting waitress uniform, and smiled faintly.

“It’s fine, Mr. Dawson. That’s our highest-spending room. The corkage fee alone means decent tips. I need the money, you know that.”

Mr. Dawson sighed, said nothing more, just patted my shoulder.

As I pushed open the heavy door, a wave of heat, expensive perfume, and cigar smoke assaulted me.

That scent… it was the smell of burning money.

On the leather sofa in the center of the private room sat the man I hadn’t seen in seven years.

He’d changed so much.

The memory of the clear-eyed, stubborn boy in his faded school uniform was gone.

In his place was a business elite who exuded an air of absolute power.

He was listening to someone beside him, his head tilted slightly, a cold smirk playing on his lips.

And nestled beside him was Ashley Adams, the campus beauty who had snatched him away from me all those years ago.

Ashley wore a white Chanel haute couture dress tonight, her diamond necklace flashing blindingly under the lights.

She swirled her wine glass, looking like a proud swan.

“Oh, Dempsey’s main reason for coming back is for me, really. He’s moving his company’s focus back here because, well, we’re getting engaged, you know.”

Immediately, a chorus of compliments broke out.

“The campus queen and the CEO, what a match made in heaven!”

“Mr. Thorne is a finance magazine cover star now, Ashley, you’re so lucky!”

“*This* is what you call happiness. Unlike some people who were gold diggers back then. I bet they’re kicking themselves now, huh?”

Someone dropped a pointed comment, and the air in the room froze for a second.

Everyone’s gaze, as if on cue, shifted to me, standing in the corner, opening a bottle of wine.

I moved like a senseless puppet, expertly uncorking the bottle.

“Bordeaux Left Bank. Optimal taste after twenty minutes of decanting.”

I poured the perfectly decanted wine into the crystal glass in front of Dempsey, my movements flawless.

Dempsey finally looked up.

What kind of look was it?

Disdain, disgust, hatred, and a sliver of deep-seated contempt.

He didn’t take the glass, letting me hold it.

My wrist, sore from holding the tray for so long, trembled slightly.

“Chloe?”

He finally spoke, his voice deep and hoarse.

“I heard you dropped out of college? What, that rich guy got tired of you and dumped you? Now you’re reduced to serving people in a place like this?”

The room fell silent instantly. Everyone was waiting for the show.

Ashley covered her mouth dramatically, feigning surprise as she looked at me:

“Oh my goodness, it really is Chloe! How could you… how could you be dressed like this?”

“If you’re short on cash, you should tell me. Even though you dumped Dempsey for money back then, we’re still old classmates. I’m sure I could arrange a cleaning job for you, no problem.”

She deliberately emphasized the words “dumped Dempsey for money.”

A ripple of mocking laughter spread through the room.

“Serves her right. Dempsey was so good to her back then.”

“That’s karma for you. Look at Mr. Thorne now, worth billions. And her? Waiting tables.”

“Tsk, tsk, how the tables have turned.”

I listened to their harsh words expressionlessly, as if they were talking about someone else’s story.

Seven years.

I had long since built an impenetrable shield around myself.

Living in the darkest corners of this city.

Washing dishes in restaurant kitchens, hauling boxes in cold storage, getting drinks splashed on me by drunk customers, being yelled at by landlords for being a pauper.

Dignity, that thing, had shattered into a million pieces on that torrential rainy night, leaving nothing but dust.

“Mr. Thorne, your wine.”

I repeated myself, my voice calm.

Dempsey stared into my eyes, as if searching for a trace of regret, shame, or tears on my face.

But he was disappointed.

There was nothing in my eyes.

Only endless numbness and exhaustion.

This disregard seemed to infuriate him.

He suddenly raised his hand and violently knocked the wine glass from my grasp.

“This wine is too cheap. I’m not used to it.”

Dempsey pulled out a tissue, wiped his hands, his eyes icy.

“Get another bottle. Something with age. Like the one from seven years ago.”

He was humiliating me.

Seven years ago, he was a broke kid.

To celebrate my birthday, he’d scrimped and saved for three months to buy a cheap bottle of red wine.

We sat on the campus lawn, sharing sips, our faces flushed, promising to be together forever.

Now, he was using this to remind me of the price of betraying him.

Ashley giggled beside him, chiming in:

“Oh, don’t make it hard on her. This bottle costs tens of thousands. She couldn’t afford to pay for it even if she sold herself. Hurry up and apologize to Mr. Thorne, and clean up the wine on the floor. Then we’ll let it go.”

I knelt, took out a cloth, and meticulously wiped the wine stains from the carpet.

Glass shards pricked my fingertips, a piercing pain.

But I didn’t even flinch.

I was just calculating in my head: the commission for this bottle was gone, plus I’d have to pay for the broken glass.

Tonight’s shift? All for nothing. Maybe even half a month’s salary gone.

This was my life now.

No emotions, just endless calculations of prices and debts that could never be repaid.

As for love? That was a luxury only the rich could afford.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Thorne.”

I finished wiping the last bit of wine, stood up, and maintained my humble posture.

“I’ll ask the manager to bring the finest wine we have.”

Dempsey looked at the beads of blood welling from my fingertips, his pupils constricted slightly, then immediately returned to their cold state.

“Get out.”