"Lucas gave us two hundred million back then! That money saved us from going under! Even if it mysteriously vanished, the bank records are still there!"
"It was just two hundred million..."
"Have you forgotten? Aiden and I had a side deal!"
On paper, Aiden had given him a few dozen million in orders—but in reality, it was closer to eight hundred million.
Everything had been going exactly according to plan—until Susan ruined it all.
"What were you thinking, Susan? Did I owe you sothing in my past life? Is that why you’re here to make pay for it now?"
Andrew dragged a hand through his hair in frustration, pacing before storming downstairs.
"I—I didn’t an to! Honey, what should we do? Is Lucas really pulling the plug on the deal?"
Andrew turned, his face flushed with anger. "And what do you expect to tell Aiden? Do you even realize who he is, Susan? If Lucas backs out, we’re the ones left with nothing! We’re the ones who’ll lose everything!"
"I didn’t know! You never told —"
Suddenly, the phone rang.
Andrew grabbed it. "Hello? What? Canceling now?!"
His face darkened by the second. After a string of calls, he finally lost it.
Crash!
The landline shattered against the floor.
"Unbelievable! They used to beg for contracts—now they all want out!"
"Honey... all of them?"
"Thanks to you!" he roared. "They’re pulling their investnts because Lucas withdrew his! The funding gap we just filled? It’s now three tis bigger!"
Susan’s face went pale. She hadn’t expected Lucas to strike back this fast.
"Can’t you just call them—explain it was a misunderstanding?"
"Are you brain-dead, Susan?! Did every bit of your intelligence get eaten by dogs?! "
By two or three in the morning, Andrew was still in his study, pacing and making desperate phone calls.
Susan lay in bed, eyes wide open, clutching the blanket. She couldn’t sleep—couldn’t stop shaking. Tomorrow might bring ruin.
Tossing and turning, she finally sat up and opened the closet.
From the very back, she pulled out a small sealed bag—inside were strands of hair... and a few dark, dried stains.
She closed her eyes, steadying her breath.
Real or not... the truth will co out soon enough.
No one—absolutely no one—was going to take what belonged to her daughter.
Olivia...
This is all Mommy can do for you now. The rest is up to you.
...
Country B – Luxury Hotel
"Where’s the mirror? I want a mirror!"
"Olivia, don’t move. Just a few more days, and you can take the stitches out."
"A few more days? Ethan, my face is ruined!"
Every mirror in the suite had been removed. She wasn’t allowed to see her reflection—not even her phone had been left within reach.
And standing across from her was Ethan—the man who had refused to leave her side.
Over ti, his constant care had almost convinced her he still loved her.
"Olivia," he said gently, "they’ve found one of the best reconstructive surgeons in the country. Once the swelling goes down, they’ll start the procedure. You’ll look just like you used to, I promise. I’ll be right here with you."
Her eyes lifted slowly, voice trembling but sharp. "Would you... give one of your ribs? For my nose?"
Ethan froze. "What...?"
"You say you love , and I just saw a news report about a boyfriend using his own ribs to perform a rhinoplasty on his girlfriend. My nose... it’s completely ruined. So—would you do it?"
Her voice was soft, but her eyes couldn’t stop searching his.
If he truly loved her, he’d be willing to pay a small price.
"Olivia, I will."
He answered first; right now what Olivia needed most was trust. If she believed him, then even when the ti ca for surgery, she wouldn’t go so far as to take bone from his body.
Olivia squeezed his hand tight. "How... how will you explain this to Sophia?"
"I’m just playing with her. The one I really love is you. It’s just—my grandfather’s orders. You know how it is at ho—grandpa is the one in charge."
"Ethan, I only entered show business because of you..."
"I’m sorry. I’m sorry." Ethan sat beside her and gripped her hand hard.
Maybe it was the closeness of their feelings—slowly, the distance between them narrowed.
But then Ethan pulled back. "You need to rest and heal properly. Tomorrow I’ll make you sothing good to eat."
Olivia’s heart raced. She realized she couldn’t even look him in the eye.
If not for Sophia—if she hadn’t taken everything that once belonged to her...
How could she and Aiden...
Sophia, all my pain—you gave it to . One day, I’ll make you pay back everything.
She gripped the sheet, eyes full of hate.
...
Two weeks later.
City A.
The crisis at Morgan Group was getting worse by the day. Andrew was running himself ragged.
"President Morgan, the company’s cash flow... it’s collapsed."
"What? Again? Paul, get out there—do whatever it takes to keep our partners!" Andrew felt dizzy; he’d been cleaning up sses nonstop for half a month.
"Sir, to be frank, I don’t think we can recover everything. Right now we need to cut our losses."
"What do you an?"
"Lucas reacted because Miss Morgan was wronged. Only the one who tied the knot can untie it. Since the incident, Lucas has been taking Sophia to many high-society events. There are probably more people who know Sophia than know Lucas. If—President Morgan, I won’t sugarcoat this, after all Miss Morgan is your daughter."
Paul had been Andrew’s secretary for years and was poached from another firm. He had good instincts.
"You an use her to our advantage?"
"President Morgan, her blood ties can’t be changed. You could try to compensate her. Miss Morgan has lost a lot, but she still has a lot too. What she has now far exceeds that of Morgan Group. If we can bring her back under our wing, then Hilton Group, and even YL overseas, could all be back on President Morgan’s side."
Andrew frowned. "Susan made a scene once—"
"President Morgan, I only an to give one sincere suggestion: in situations like this you have to weigh priorities. If you lose your boss’s position because of his wife, the regret won’t belong to just you."
"Priorities..." Andrew pinched the bridge of his nose. He paced the length of his desk twice as plans began to form in his head.
"Paul, you’re right. I’ll give you a task—if we want her back, we need to set the stage properly."
First move: the wounded-soldier act.
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