Chapter 5
I spent a week in Bekeland.
On the day I flew back home, my assistant came to pick me up at the airport, looking a bit uneasy.
"Ms. Shaw, "she said, handing me her phone. "You need to see this."
It was trending on Twitter.
[Lucas's Ex-Wife Walks Away with 167 million dollars]
[The Scheming Ex-Wife of the Rich and Powerful]
[Who Is Nina Shaw?]
The first thing I saw was a post from a gossip account.
It reads: [The Bay Society's young tycoon Lucas got divorced, and his ex-wife walked away with one hundred and fifty million. Word is, Nina came from a regular family. Five years ago, she married into his family thanks to her sister's connections.
[She never had any kids, but when they split, she demanded half the fortune. Insiders say Nina is super good at pretending. She always playing the perfect wife, but secretly plotting to cash out in the divorce.]
The comments section was blowing up with nasty remarks.
[Women like her are disgusting, using someone else's money as a springboard.
[167 million dollars. That's enough for her to spend for several lifetimes.
[I heard her sister once saved Lucas. She's just riding her sister's coattails.
[Sister? Who knows, maybe she was the one who got her sister killed.]
I kept scrolling through the comments.
Then, my finger stopped on one comment.
[I was her classmate. She was so poor she could barely pay tuition and worked daily at a café. Now she's leaving with 167 million dollars. Unbelievable, right?]
Someone asked: [How could someone that poor marry into a rich family? Sounds fake to me.]
Reply: [Seriously. She barely had any clothes to wear, and everyone in the dorm saw her coming back at 2 in the morning.]
I stared at that comment and suddenly laughed.
I really was dirt poor back then.
I was so broke that I lived on instant noodles for a whole month, could only buy one plain vegetable dish in the cafeteria, and owned one winter coat which I wore until its sleeves frayed.
Back then, I told myself, 'It's okay. Hang in there.'
Once I graduate, find a job, and save up enough, things will turn around.
Back then, nobody gave me a dime, and I was basically their unpaid maid. It was pure misery.
My phone buzzed again. It was Lucas.
I answered, but didn't say a word.
He stayed quiet too.
The silence stretched on for a long time.
Then he said, "I saw what's going on online."
"Mhm," I replied.
"It wasn't Lily," he suddenly said. "I asked, it wasn't her."
I almost burst out laughing.
"Lucas," I said, "so you called to defend that Lily of yours?"
"No," he said, sounding a bit flustered. "I mean..."
"Save it," I cut him off. "I'll deal with the online mess myself. Keep your people inline."
I hung up.
I opened Twitter and posted a new update:
[167 million dollars, I earned it fair and square. If anyone has a problem, take it up with me.]
I attached a photo of my company's business license and brand valuation report.
Valuation: 66 million dollars.
Five minutes later, the trending topics blew up again.
*****
That night, Lucas was waiting outside my apartment building.
I'd been working overtime until two in the morning, and the moment I stepped out of the elevator, I spotted him leaning on his car, cigarette in hand.
A small mountain of cigarette butts littered the ground by his feet.
I had no idea how long he'd been waiting.
"Why are you here? "I asked, frowning.
He stubbed out his cigarette and looked at me, his eyes bloodshot.
"Nina," he called me.
It was the first time he had ever called me with that soft voice.
I felt awkward all over.
"Don't call me that," I said. "Get to the point."
He started to say something, but couldn't get the words out.
Seeing him like that, I couldn't be bothered to wait, so I walked straight into the building.
"Wait." he called, chasing after me. "I have something to say."
"Say it."
"Back then, about the baby, why didn't you ever tell me?"
I turned around and looked at him.
He'd actually gone to the hospital back then, but he never bothered to find out why I was even there.
So what?
He stood beneath the streetlight, his shadow stretched out behind him, and on his face was an expression I'd never seen before.
Panic, regret, and pain.
Five years had passed, and only now did he finally understand what it meant to care.
Too bad it was already too late.
"Why would I have told you? I said. "Could you have saved her?"
He froze.
I turned and walked into the building.
As the elevator doors slid shut, I saw him crouch down, holding his head in his hands.
His shoulders shook.