Chapter 2

The ring traced a gleaming arc through the rain and, with a loud splash, landed straight into the raging river that rushed alongside the villa.

"No!" I cried, my eyes burning with anguish. That was the last thing I had left from my mother, the only memory she left me.

My body acted before I could think. Like someone possessed, I charged out to the terrace, ready to vault over the railing and plunge into the icy river below.

"Vivian!" Edward shouted, voice cracking with shock. In an instant, he sprang up from his wheelchair, so quick and forceful that it was impossible to believe he'd spent two years pretending to be paralyzed.

He rushed over and grabbed me tightly around the waist from behind, practically hauling me away from the railing in a frantic grip.

"Let go of me, Edward. Just let go!" I yelled, fighting with all my strength as I watched the dirty river swallow up the ring.

The freezing rain and my burning tears mingled, turning everything into a blur.

"Get a grip! It's just a damn ring. You're really ready to throw your life away for that?" Edward snapped, his voice shaky with panic and worry, but mostly sounding irritated that I was being so stubborn.

That ring was all I had left from my mom, and Edward said it was just a damn ring. His beloved Sophie had tossed it out like it meant nothing.

Right then, every ounce of anger, pain, and shame I felt just iced over inside me.

I stopped fighting and let him hold me; my whole body had gone rigid, cold as stone. "Let's break up," I said, my voice disturbingly calm.

Edward froze, and then let out a dry, mocking laugh, like I'd just said something ridiculous.

"Vivian, don't be dramatic. You're just mad about the ring. I'll tell Sophie to apologize, okay? We can just—"

"I'm not being dramatic," I interrupted coldly, peeling his fingers off my waist one by one.

I turned and looked him dead in the eye—the same face that now made my skin crawl.

I accused, "Edward, you've been putting on this act for two years. Aren't you tired yet? My mother's ring is gone, and with it, every last bit of affection I had for you. How much longer are you planning to keep up this charade?"

His eyes flickered, and just like that, he slipped on his helpless little victim act I'd seen a thousand times before.

"Vivian, what are you talking about? My legs really were messed up. I've just gotten a lot better after treatment. But you're still going to dump me? So you never wanted me in the first place, huh? You always planned to leave."

He tried to guilt-trip me into pitying him again.

Watching him serve up that perfect performance, I just found the whole thing ridiculous.

I wasn't about to explain myself. I was too drained to waste another word. I just bent down quietly, picked up the grimy, empty insulated container from the ground, and started to walk away.

Not even pausing to look at Edward or any of those smug, gossiping onlookers out on the terrace, I turned around and walked into the pouring rain, step by step.

Behind me, Sophie's syrupy voice carried over. "Edward, so what if she knows now? Are you seriously worried about that crazy woman getting her feelings hurt?

"Come on, Mr. Perfect, you really went and fell for a delivery girl?"

I didn't hear how Edward answered.

After the breakup, there was no reason for me to keep delivering food anymore. I dialed up my boss and quit on the spot.

He sounded truly confused. "Vivian, what's with the sudden resignation? You were doing great. Weren't you making money to help with your boyfriend's medical bills?"

"He's all better now," I said with a stiff smile. "Completely recovered."

"Oh, that's amazing news!" my boss exclaimed, genuinely happy for me. "Looks like the tough days are finally behind you. Good things must be waiting ahead. You deserve it after all you've been through."

I forced a silent, bitter smile.

Honestly, it was Edward who sent me down this path—slogging through heat and rain, and taking crap from strangers with every delivery.

He dressed it up as "helping me share the burden," but I knew now that it was just punishment, his twisted payback for Sophie.

At least now, it was finally over.

The next morning, after packing up everything I owned, I arrived at the Grand Crest Hotel, the most extravagant spot in the city.

I dragged my luggage, big and small, into the lobby. I looked completely out of place—flustered, disheveled, and out of my element. Instantly, every gaze zeroed in on me, their judgment thinly veiled.

"Well, look who it is. Our tireless delivery girl, Vivian," came a shrill, mocking voice from behind me.

Of course, it was Sophie, her voice so disgustingly familiar it almost made me gag.

Sophie and her little circle of friends were actually here, too.

I didn't stop; dragging my baggage, I headed straight inside without looking back.

But Sophie wasn't about to let me off the hook. She led her little gang over, surrounding me like I was an animal at the zoo for their entertainment. "Oh, look who decided to show up!"

Sophie pinched her nose in exaggerated disgust, as if even being near me offended her.

She sneered, "Since when does a delivery girl get to set foot in the Grand Crest Hotel? Where's security? Seriously, has this place fallen so far that any stray can wander in? Ugh, how nasty."

Her friends piled on instantly.

"Yeah, she's a total mess. Better watch those dirty shoes; don't ruin the carpet."

"Sophie, didn't she always say she was too classy to care about rich or poor? Now that she ditched her disabled boyfriend, she's already hunting for a sugar daddy in a place like this?"

Their shrill laughter rang throughout the lobby.

I listened to their distorted accusations, staring at Sophie with a frosty glare. Jaw clenched, I snapped, "Get lost."

"You seriously have the nerve to tell me to get lost?" Sophie's face twisted, and without warning, she slammed her hand into me, shoving me violently.

Thrown off balance, I reeled backward and crashed hard against a huge glass cabinet overflowing with pricey wines and liquor.

The impact sent the entire cabinet rocking dangerously. With a series of ear-splitting crashes, dozens of expensive wine and top-shelf whiskey bottles poured out like a waterfall, smashing onto the floor and instantly shattering into pieces.

The enormous clamor reverberated through the lobby, and everyone was left transfixed, wide-eyed, gaping at the disaster unfolding before them.

After a split second of stunned silence, Sophie's friends burst out in even harsher, mocking laughter.

"Ha! Look what the broke girl got herself into. What a walking disaster."

"Quick, someone count how many bottles this clueless hick just wrecked."

"One Château Lafite Rothschild, two Romanée-Conti, three Macallan Rare... Holy crap, that's gotta be worth a fortune!"

"At least a few million, easy. She couldn't pay for it even if she sold herself."

"Can't pay?" Sophie grinned wickedly as she walked up. "Easy. Get on your knees and lick every last drop off the floor. For every drop you finish, I'll pay you. If you can't clean it all, just keep licking until we say you're done."

Everyone loved her nasty suggestion and immediately started chiming in.

"Yeah, go on. Get on your knees and start licking!"

"Let's see the delivery queen crawl for her money!"

Sophie's cronies closed in with nasty grins, grabbing my arms and roughly shoving me toward the ground littered with smashed glass and spilled booze.

"Get down and lick it up!"

"Hurry up and start licking, or we'll call the cops and have you rot in jail!"