Chapter 3

After leaving the teacher's office, I was about to drive Lily home.

But I found the road blocked.

I leaned out to see, and a group of well-dressed parents were gathered in the middle of the road, completely blocking traffic.

I got out of the car and walked closer. It turned out they were eagerly chatting around Mark Stone.

I stepped forward and said,

"Excuse me, could you please move aside?"

The group of parents immediately turned their heads, scrutinizing me with utter disdain.

A fat man with a gold chain rudely snapped, "We're talking to Mr. Stone here. Who do you think you are to interrupt?"

Mark Stone noticed me then. He looked at me, then at my car, and sneered,

"Well, well, a nobody like you daring to lecture us here?"

The other parents chimed in:

"Exactly! He doesn't even know his place, daring to lecture Mr. Stone?"

"Mr. Stone is the husband of Victoria Hayes from Hayes Corporation, worth hundreds of millions! What right does a pauper driving a beat-up car like you have to make a scene here?"

"You'd better know your place and get out of our sight!"

Ten years ago, for my wife and daughter, I chose to retire, giving all my love to them.

Hayes Corporation? That was just a little trinket I bought to make my wife happy back then.

But now, this small toy I used to amuse my wife has become an object of worship for these people.

I looked at Mark Stone, then at the familiar luxury car behind him – it was the exact car I had given Victoria for her birthday last year.

Mark Stone noticed my gaze, mistaking it for envy, and even more smugly patted the car door. "What do you think? Never seen one before? This is a global limited edition, money can't even buy it!"

I spoke calmly, "I haven't indeed."

"Of course not!" Mark Stone said with an air of superiority. "This level of car isn't something people like you can even dream of touching."

I continued, "I just haven't seen anyone else dare to drive *my* car."

The air suddenly went silent for a second.

Mark Stone froze. "What did you say?"

"I said, this car is mine," my voice was calm. "The last digits of the license plate are even Victoria’s birthday."

Mark Stone first froze, then burst into laughter. "Hahaha! Did you hear that? This pauper says this car is his!"

The surrounding parents also joined in the laughter:

"Is this guy crazy?"

"Mr. Stone, don't stoop to the level of a delusional patient like him!"

"Exactly, these days anyone can come along, daring to flatter themselves like that!"

Mark Stone wiped away tears of laughter. "Buddy, do you know how much this car costs? Three hundred thousand! Look at the junker you're driving, a used one isn't even worth three thousand! And you dare to say this Maserati is yours?"

"And you just said the license plate ends with Victoria’s birthday?" Mark Stone became even more arrogant. "My wife's birthday is public knowledge, you can find it online! You think you can fool me with such a pathetic trick?"

Mark Stone pulled out his phone, triumphantly. "Come on, let me show you, a country bumpkin, what real high society life looks like!"

He opened his photo album, and the screen displayed a picture of him and Victoria. In the photo, Victoria was wearing a custom-made gown I had bought her, worth tens of thousands, her arm linked with Mark Stone's, both intimately leaning against each other.

"This one, this is our photo under the Eiffel Tower in Paris."

I looked at the photo on the screen, my heart struck by lightning.

At that time, Victoria had clearly told me she was going to attend an important business conference, requiring a week-long business trip.

"And this!" Mark Stone opened a video. "This is our daily life at home last weekend."

In the video, Victoria was busy in the kitchen, wearing an apron, seriously chopping vegetables and stir-frying. Mark Stone hugged her from behind, and they interacted sweetly.

I froze.

Victoria never cooked.

In ten years of marriage, she had always claimed she couldn't cook, either ordering takeout every day or having the housekeeper prepare meals.

Even when I was sick and wanted a bowl of soup, she would say she was too busy and told me to order takeout myself.

But now, she was personally cooking for another man, with a gentle smile on her face I had never seen before.

Just then, a sharp voice cut through the crowd: "Dad!"