Chapter 3

At the club entrance, Leo was anxiously pacing back and forth.

Seeing me approach, he immediately rushed over, a wide, ingratiating smile plastered on his face:

"Lena, I didn't lie to you, did I? Mr. Sterling was just catching up with old friends today."

"As for those girls in the room, they have nothing to do with him. He even specifically asked me to order him juice, so he wouldn't get drunk and make you worry."

I looked at my old classmate, who had become so smooth and slick.

The genuine sincerity that once filled his eyes was long gone.

He continued to smile ingratiatingly:

"Lena, let me find someone to drive you home. And, I won't tell Mr. Sterling you were here."

I didn't refuse his offer.

The driver was in Ryan's business car.

Sitting in the back seat, two handprints, one large, one small, were strikingly visible on the window.

My heart sank.

I stared intently at those tangled handprints, which seemed to whisper the sordid stories that had unfolded here.

After getting out of the car, I told the driver:

"Thank you for the ride."

"Oh, and by the way, the back window is dirty. Remember to clean it for your boss, Mr. Sterling."

The driver stood there, bewildered and helpless.

Soon after I got home, my phone rang.

It was Leo, calling specifically.

On the other end, his voice was urgent as he explained.

He said the handprints on the back seat were accidentally left when he was being affectionate with his new girlfriend, and he repeatedly promised it wouldn't happen again, begging me not to tell Ryan about it.

How ridiculous.

He seemed to have forgotten who helped him get to where he was today.

But I didn't expose his lie.

Late that night, Ryan finally returned home.

I was sitting on the living room sofa, idly watching TV.

On the screen, a girl was weeping bitterly:

"Why are you doing this to me? You promised you'd marry me, so why are you marrying another woman behind my back?"

In the past, I never truly saw Ryan for who he was.

Now, I realized I probably hadn't even seen his worst side.

"So late, and you're still not resting? Are you binging another show?"

Ryan asked, his voice cheerful, as he entered, taking off his suit jacket and changing his shoes.

I turned my head, gazing at the man I'd been with for six years.

At thirty, he had only grown more mature.

With a defined jawline and thick, dark short hair, he exuded mature charm and gentlemanly grace.

His tall, slender physique, accentuated by his well-fitted suit, made him look even more composed.

I had shaped this man, bit by bit.

I had accompanied him through his growth, through his entrepreneurship, from nothing to everything, step by step, to where he was today.

But now, he had betrayed me, marrying another woman.

He took off his suit, draped it over the sofa back, then sat beside me, gently massaging my throbbing temples.

"Is your head hurting again?"

"Once I'm done with this busy period, I'll take you to the doctor, okay?"

"Okay," I replied softly, subtly moving his hand from my forehead.

He didn't notice my odd behavior. He stood up and said, "I'll go shower first. I have to go on a business trip tomorrow; it might be for a month."

"Where to?"

"Seaside City. Some suppliers there are having issues with contract fulfillment, I need to go talk to them personally."

He spoke smoothly, without a single flaw.

I said nothing more, watching him quietly walk back to the bedroom.

Only after the bedroom door closed,

I walked to the entryway and picked up the jacket and briefcase Ryan had just taken off.

I examined them carefully.

Inside were a laptop, some business cards, and a few documents.

The laptop was password-protected; I couldn't open it.

I flipped through the documents and business cards, finding nothing unusual.

Just as I was about to put everything back in the bag, a piece of paper tucked inside the suit jacket caught my eye.

It was an ultrasound pregnancy report.

The report indicated early pregnancy, 10 weeks.

Patient name: Amber Hayes.

Patient age: 29.

Amber Hayes...

I froze.

The woman who had married Ryan Sterling.

The owner of a newly opened beauty salon in Riverton City.

Her image involuntarily surfaced in my mind.

An obviously cosmetically enhanced face, a slender build, long flowing hair, a preference for revealing, sexy clothing that showcased her long, pale legs.

I remembered seeing her for the first time when I accompanied a friend to her beauty salon for a skin treatment.

I'd casually heard her mention that her family background was modest, and she had worked very hard to get where she was.

When it was time to pay, she even offered a discount, hoping we would frequent her salon more often.

When she said that, her eyes crinkled into crescent moons.

It truly left an impression.