Chapter 2

Vivian had just wrapped up a video conference when her assistant stepped into the office to ask about the family banquet this weekend.

She didn't even look up. "Where's Luke? Doesn't he always handle these things?"

The moment the words left her mouth, she remembered. Rubbing her temples in irritation, she added, "Tell him to prepare a gift for Grandfather."

Standing beside her, Ethan’s eyelashes fluttered.

Lowering his gaze, Ethan forced a bitter smile. "I don't mean anything by it... I just envy Luke. He has so many people who care about him."

"Unlike me. I have nothing left. I didn't even get to see my dad one last time..."

My spirit instantly tautened, pure fury and agony surging back from beyond the grave.

I was the one who saved his father.

End-stage heart failure. An eight-hour surgery. I snatched that man straight from the jaws of death.

Yet the very next day after the operation, the man suddenly died.

The night before, Ethan had spent thirty minutes alone in that ICU room.

Before I could even confront him, Vivian’s hand cracked across my face.

"I know you despise Ethan, but that was a living human being! Do you even have a soul?!"

Clutching my burning cheek, I desperately grabbed her hand to explain.

Vivian snatched her hand back in disgust, as if she had just touched biohazard waste.

Her voice dripped with pure hatred. "Save it. Your excuses make me sick."

She called in her bodyguards and had me dragged down into the basement.

The air down there choked with dust. They tied me brutally to a metal chair.

Vivian stood right before me, holding a heavy hammer.

"Since these hands are useless, I'll destroy them."

The moment that hammer crashed down, my wrist collapsed inward at a grotesque angle.

Cold sweat instantly drenched my body.

I clamped my teeth shut, a muffled, guttural howl tearing from my throat.

Vivian watched with absolute coldness. She turned to the guards.

"Cut his tendons. I never want to see him hold a scalpel again."

The blade pierced my skin, digging deep.

One by one, the tendons were severed.

Until finally, I couldn't feel my hands at all.

Blood pooled across the concrete floor, but the agony in my chest far outweighed the mutilation of my flesh.

On the weekend, the banquet hall glittered with crystal chandeliers.

Ethan arrived with his arm looped through Vivian’s, dressed in a sharp tailored suit, wearing a modest smile.

When it came time for gifts, he carried a rolled-up calligraphy scroll and approached Vivian's grandfather.

"Mr. Lin, I wrote this with my own hands. I hope you like it."

The room fell dead silent.

Vivian's cousin, who had always hated her, burst out laughing.

"Cousin, did our family go bankrupt or something?"

"You dare present Grandpa with flea-market trash that nobody would buy for five bucks?"

Ethan's face drained completely of color. He gripped Vivian's sleeve tightly.

I almost laughed out loud.

All those years, to protect her pride, I memorized every single preference of the Lin family patriarch.

Every gift was painstakingly chosen, every banquet an absolute triumph for her reputation.

How could she have secured her footing in the Lin family and claimed executive power without my tireless groundwork?

Yet she never gave a damn.

Just like tonight—she hadn't even bothered to ask what gift Ethan had prepared.

Because she trusted him blindly.

She never expected him to humiliate her like this.

Suddenly, Vivian stepped forward, shielding Ethan behind her.

"Grandpa, it's my fault. I've been too busy with work and didn't have time to prepare properly."

She raised her chin, her gaze sweeping across the stunned crowd, her voice crystal clear.

"But Ethan's sincerity is worth more than anything money can buy."