Chapter 1

Everyone in our elite circle knew I had taken in a depressed, autistic physics prodigy when he was a boy.

I built a research lab for him, paved his path to becoming the darling of the tech startup scene, and poured limitless wealth and devotion into him.

Until I overheard him mocking me to his friends in the shadows:

"She’s thirty years old, yet she still acts like a twenty-something girl, whining for attention. Isn't that pathetic?"

That very night, I burned down our dream villa, turning the entire garden of his beloved camellias into ash.

Later, when I cursed him out to defend a younger, prettier boy,

He dropped to his knees, his eyes bloodshot with desperate tears: "Vivian, you’re the one who taught me how to love. You can't just throw me away!"

I looked down at him with a cold smirk. "I never taught you to betray me, yet you learned that all on your own, didn't you?"

My SnapChat conversation with Chase had gone completely cold.

It remained stuck on the message I sent him that morning, still without a reply.

[Come home early tonight. I have a surprise for you.]

I stared at the screen, completely lost in thought.

Before I realized it, my finger accidentally tapped the FaceTime button.

The call connected almost instantly, but the voice that came through belonged to a girl.

"Is this Ms. Vance? Chase just stepped into the shower. He probably can't take your call right now."

Her tone was laced with a soft, nasal sweetness, underneath which lay a subtle, venomous smirk.

A dry, hollow laugh bubbled up in my throat.

I hung up without a word.

The clock on the wall struck ten.

Beyond the floor-to-ceiling glass, the night sky erupted into breathtaking fireworks.

The bursts were brilliant and loud, shattering into millions of glittering stars before fading into the dark.

I swallowed every drop of emotion, shoved my phone into my pocket, and calmly glanced around at the "surprise" I had prepared.

The living room floor was blanketed in deep red rose petals. Across the ceiling hung banners scripted in complex Morse code, a private cipher of promises only he and I could read.

It felt like an elaborate performance staged by a clown, with no audience left to applaud.

I walked out of the villa.

With a single spark, I set the house ablaze.

I tossed the custom diamond ring into the roaring inferno and watched the entire yard of blooming camellias turn into black ash.

Then I got into my car and drove off into the night.

At the exclusive downtown club, my best friend was already waiting in a VIP booth.

The room was dimly lit. Mia was lounging in the center of the plush leather sofa, a pretty young boy kneeling by her bare feet.

I sat down across from her.

She took a sip of her cocktail. "I told you years ago. Chase Hayes was never as pure and innocent as he pretended to be."

"He found himself a shiny new toy. It's only natural he tossed his old flame aside."

There was someone new, sure, but mostly, he was just sick of me.

Two weeks ago, Chase had claimed he had to pull an all-nighter at the lab. Instead, I ran into him in the back alley behind this very club.

He had been leaning against the brick wall, a cigarette dangling from his lips.

Far from the reclusive, insecure boy he used to be, he looked thoroughly confident, lazy, and arrogant.

His friend had asked, "Vivian just turned thirty. Aren't you going to propose to her anytime soon?"

Chase’s brows had furrowed with blatant annoyance.

"I’m sick of her. Like you said, she’s thirty. Why does she still act like a needy little girl, begging for cuddles and sweet talk? It suffocates me. Besides, I’m only twenty-five."

His friends had fallen dead silent. Everyone in our social circle knew how we had started and what I had given up for him.

"If you really don't love her anymore, you need to break it off clean. Don't waste her life."

"She’s more like a sister or an older relative to me now," Chase had exhaled a cloud of smoke. "I'll talk to her one of these days."

Over the next two weeks, he never brought it up.

Instead, he weaponized stone-cold neglect.

A single text took three days to answer. Staying out all night became routine.

To him, our home had transformed into a cage that bound his newfound freedom.

It made him miserable.

I had known all along he wouldn't come back tonight.

The setup was simply my way of closing the door on the last seventeen years of my life, even if the ending was a disaster.

From this moment on, Chase Hayes was nothing more to me than an asset on a balance sheet.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Love can be discarded. Profits cannot.