Chapter 2

Jason's POV

Early the next morning, I rode my beat-up bicycle to Cloudcrest Villa.

The villa was incredibly luxurious. Just the entrance garden was several times larger than where I lived.

I carried my toolbox, standing in the opulent hall, completely out of place.

"Here, and here, the trim needs to be redone."

I was crouching on the floor measuring baseboard data when the sound of high heels clicking against marble came from the entrance.

Then came a familiar male voice that made me stop breathing.

"Susan, you're just too much of a perfectionist. I think it's already great. After all, this is our home-as long as I have you, it's perfect."

My hand holding the tape measure froze.

I looked up and met two pairs of eyes.

Susan wore a well-tailored beige trench coat, her long hair pinned up.

Her exquisite makeup made her look even more coldly elegant than five years ago.

Beside her, Ethan wore a suit, a Patek Philippe worth a fortune on his wrist, his arm wrapped lovingly around her waist.

Our eyes met.

The air seemed to freeze in that instant.

The smile in Susan's eyes vanished immediately, replaced by shock, then undisguised revulsion.

"Jason? What are you doing here?"

Ethan paused for a moment, then a playful smile curved his lips.

That look was like watching a stray dog begging for food on the roadside.

"Isn't this our genius Jason?"

Ethan called out dramatically.

"How did you end up like this? The worker renovating our wedding house is actually you?"

I slowly stood up and brushed the dust off my pants.

"I'm here to work. If you're not satisfied, I can have someone else take over."

"Don't!"

Ethan stepped forward, blocking my path, looking me up and down.

"We're old classmates. We should catch up when we run into each other. Look at you, filthy all over. These years have been rough, huh?"

He turned to Susan with an exaggerated sigh.

"Susan, see? I told you Jason wouldn't go far. If he'd just stayed on the right path back then, he wouldn't be doing grunt work for us now."

Susan's gaze cut across my face like a knife.

Once, these eyes held only me.

She would wipe my sweat when I drew blueprints, would cry from worry when I got injured playing ball.

She said.

"Jason, you're my light. We'll be together forever."

But now she looked at me coldly, as if looking at garbage.

"Ethan, don't waste words on this kind of person."

Susan's voice was icy.

"Make him leave. I don't want to see him. He's dirty."

"Dirty"-those words were like two slaps across my face.

I clenched my fists, nails digging into flesh.

"Miss Susan, I was sent by the company."

I looked straight into Susan's eyes.

"If you want to breach the contract, please contact our manager. I'm just doing my job according to the contract."

Susan frowned.

"Jason, do you have no shame?"

Susan was getting angry.

"Five years ago you injured Ethan in a fit of rage, then gambled away your tuition and drove your father to death. Someone like you, who can't be helped, appearing in front of me is an insult!"

Gambling? Drove my father to death?

I snapped my gaze to Ethan.

He stood behind Susan, giving me a provocative smile, his lips moving silently.

"I'm the one who said it. So what?"

So that was it.

Behind that post, he'd fabricated so many lies I didn't even know about.

My dad clearly died of a heart attack after being hounded by creditors that year.

And those debts came from the so-called "guarantee contract" Ethan had tricked my dad into signing!

All the rage surged to my head in that moment, but I forced it down.

Right now, I had no right to get angry.

My mom was still in the hospital waiting for this money to save her life.

"Miss Susan,"

I lowered my head, my voice low.

"I'm just a renovation worker. After I finish today's job, I'll leave. I'm just trying to make a living."

Seeing me lower my head, Ethan looked even more smug.

He pulled out a stack of bills from his wallet, about two or three thousand dollars, and tossed them at my feet like throwing change to a beggar.

The bills scattered across the dusty floor.

"Alright, stop playing pitiful."

Ethan put his arm around Susan.

"Since we're old classmates, I can't be too heartless. Take this money and get lost. Don't dirty our new house. As for the work, we'll just find someone else."

Susan didn't stop him, just watched coldly.

In her view, this was probably the treatment someone like me at the "bottom" deserved.

I looked at the money on the ground, then at Ethan's hypocritical face.

The words from that post echoed in my mind: "His life went straight into the gutter."

I bent down.

Ethan laughed out loud.

"That's right, Jason. People need to accept their fate..."

I picked up that stack of bills and weighed them in my hand.

Then, right in front of them, I slapped that wad of cash hard across Ethan's face!

Bills flew everywhere.

Ethan was stunned, his face burning with pain.

Susan screamed.

"Jason! Are you insane!"

"Yes, I am insane."

I stared hard at Ethan.

"Ethan, you really think you can hide what happened five years ago forever? You really think I deserve to rot in the gutter for you to step on?"