Chapter 3

After the prenatal checkup, I headed home from the hospital.

Just as I opened the door at home, Michael's mocking voice rang out behind me. "Two million dollars isn't enough for you to get a new place?"

I froze.

After a moment, I turned around, forcing a playful grin. "I'm used to living here. Weren't you at the hospital? How'd you end up following me home?"

Michael ignored my question. "Where's your new boyfriend?"

I grinned. "He sat through my check‑up and headed right to work afterward.

"Mr. Sterling, come on in and take a seat. It's freezing outside. I heard you're running Sterling Technologies now, juggling both medicine and business. Everyone's calling you a prodigy these days."

Michael looked totally grossed out by my act.

He just stood there, his face dark and annoyed.

I walked inside and waved him over. "Come on in and have a seat."

I bet he'd lose it and walk out any second now.

He stood there for a while, then said coldly, "Your boyfriend's not here. Is it really okay for me to come in?"

It wasn't. So why didn't he get lost?

I kept up my fake smile. "Of course not. My boyfriend's really generous. He admires guys like you, wealthy and accomplished."

I made sure to stress the word "generous," letting the implication linger between us.

Michael looked even more disgusted, but he still didn't leave.

We were locked in a standoff for nearly ten minutes.

I couldn't just flip out and slam the door in his face.

I'd already blown through the two million dollars Clay handed me.

Most of it got eaten up by my dad and grandma's medical bills, and the rest went into starting up a beauty salon.

With the Sterling Family's kind of power, if they ever got pissed and took me to court, I'd never be able to cough up that kind of cash.

After ten minutes, Michael finally made a move.

But instead of leaving, he walked right in.

I put on my most obsequious act, ushering him to a seat, making him some coffee, and even bringing out a fruit platter.

He watched me bustling around, like I was some kind of freak.

Once I was finally done, I sat down across from him.

He suddenly spoke up. "If you're struggling with something, you can tell me."

I looked at him, confused. "What are you talking about?"

He stared at me, not blinking once. "So tell me, was it all just about the money between us?"

My hand, draped over the couch, tightened for a split second.

Thankfully, he didn't notice.

I kept my smile plastered on, feigning even more confusion. "I've already spent all two million dollars your dad gave me."

Michael's face twisted with anger and frustration, but after a moment, it just looked empty and lost.

He suddenly got all sentimental. "I still remember every home-cooked meal you made for me. When we were living together, you'd wake up early every morning just to make soup to help with my stomach issues.

"And when I got into it with my dad, you stepped in front of me and took the hit from a glass he threw. You ended up with stitches on your forehead.

"But you just comforted me, saying you'd always be my family from now on."

So suddenly he remembered everything now.

I only just realized Michael was actually drunk.

He reeked of booze, and his eyes were bloodshot from drinking.

I laughed. "If I hadn't put on the act, how else would I have landed two million dollars?"

Michael stared at me, like he wanted to rip my heart out and see what was really inside.

"Then why didn't you just keep up the act? If you'd married me, two million dollars would've been nothing," he said.

I replied, "That sum is enough for me to live off for several lifetimes. If I reach for too much, I fear I will crash and burn."

Michael stared at me, as if an eternity had passed.

In the end, he seemed to finally conclude that I had lied to him back then.

He slowly got to his feet, and for a split second, it felt like a storm cloud had just settled over me.

He looked down at me, his eyes so fierce it was like he wanted to eat me alive.

"Is that so? Are you certain you will not crash and burn where you stand now?" he sneered.

I quickly caught on to what Michael was getting at.

My beauty salon got hit hard.

First came customer complaints, claiming their skin had gotten severely damaged after using my products.

A horrifying pic of her face started blowing up online.

And naturally, the authorities started investigating my products.

The results came back fast. They found illegal ingredients and way too much hormone content.

I sent in another sample and requested a retest.

Yet the authorities informed me coldly that spot checks were conducted at random. I was not supposed to send in my best‑quality samples.

I tried to explain that there was no way the sample they tested was from my salon.

But my explanation didn't help at all.

The sample had been handed over by the head of product management at my salon.

No question about it, she sold me out.

Complaints and reports kept pouring in, social media exploded with outrage, and the official test results were everywhere.

Some even claimed my salon was missing permits and breaking regulations.

Less than a week later, the salon was shut down.

Customers demanded compensation, and the authorities slapped me with a fine.

My new boyfriend broke up with me in a flash.

Then, netizens outed me as the girl Michael had "sponsored" back to college.

My dad crashed into Michael's car, and Michael took him to the hospital and handed over a big chunk of cash.

People online started speculating that Michael must've bankrolled my salon, too.

Now I was selling fake products and hurting people, and they deemed my motives utterly malicious.

The online hate was blowing up. Michael was the first to crack under the pressure.

He'd targeted my clinic to force me to come crawling back.

But he never expected things to blow up like this, exposing the whole story about him "sponsoring" my dad and me.

He thought I was still clueless about all the stories he'd made up.

Soon, every post about Michael "sponsoring" my dad and me got wiped from the internet.

That night, Michael came rushing over to my door.

Guilt and anxiety were written all over his face.

"Did you see all that stuff online?" Michael asked.

My salon was ruined, my new boyfriend left me, and I was drowning in debt.

My dad had a breakdown when he heard the news, and he was still stuck in the ICU.

Michael got exactly what he wanted. He finally saw me completely wrecked.

But all I could see on his face now was pure panic and nerves.

I'm done pretending. "Everyone's tagging me online. What do you think?

"So, Michael, how much did your family's stock soar this time?"