“Child, if you stay, I’ll give you a billion.” “No, two billion!” In the grand study of the Thorne family estate, Mr. Sterling Thorne sat on an ornate mahogany armchair, practically begging the girl in front of him. But I, sitting opposite him, just shook my head. Then, I gently pushed the massive check back across the table. “Grandpa Sterling, I’m sorry. Our agreement was for six years, and now that time is up. My debt of gratitude is repaid. It’s time for me to go.” My voice was soft, yet utterly resolute. Seeing my resolve, Mr. Sterling Thorne could only sigh. “These years have been hard on you. Before you leave, tell me anything you want.” I was silent for a long moment before finally speaking: “I want you to… approve of Alexander and Scarlett being together.” “You asked me to get close to Alexander to make him let go of Scarlett. But six years have passed, and you’ve seen it. Perhaps true love truly cannot be broken.” Hearing this, Mr. Sterling Thorne let out another heavy sigh, his eyes filled with weariness and helplessness. “Alright, alright, I’m old. I won’t meddle in their young people’s affairs anymore. Let them do as they please. As for the divorce, child, you’ll have to tell Alexander yourself.” I nodded, bowing respectfully to the elder, then stood up and walked towards the main door. Once in the car, I took one last look at the old estate. The first time I came to this grand house, it was to repay a debt. I was a child from an orphanage, destined to drop out of school like the others. But I was lucky. Mr. Sterling Thorne noticed me, and with the Thorne family’s sponsorship, I had a chance at an education. I was gifted and hardworking, skipping grades and graduating with a PhD from Harvard at just 22. The year I finished my studies, I specifically came to the Thorne estate to thank Mr. Sterling Thorne in person. He sat above me, looking weary, and made a request. “Child, the Thorne family lacks nothing in wealth. If you wish to repay your gratitude, grant me one request. From today, for the next six years, you will get close to Alexander, the heir of Thorne Industries, and bear him a child, to make him let go of… his adoptive sister.” It was then I learned that Alexander Thorne, the heir to Thorne Industries, had fallen for his adoptive sister, Scarlett. He was willing to give up his position as heir and defy all taboos to be with her. He had always been the perfect heir, the golden boy, but for this woman, he became so rebellious. The entire Thorne family was in a frenzy. To quash his intentions, they even sent Scarlett abroad. But after that, Alexander fell into a deep slump, drinking heavily day after day. To repay my debt, I agreed. Afterward, I started pursuing Alexander relentlessly, playing the role of a woman madly in love with him. Finally, I got what I wanted: we married, and I bore him a child. For six full years, I worked diligently and without complaint. But when Scarlett returned recently, his long-suppressed love immediately reignited. Even our son, Leo, often taken to visit Scarlett, grew fond of her and began to resent me, his birth mother. It turned out that his idealized first love, the one he never spoke of, he had never forgotten. Thankfully, from now on, none of this would concern me. The Thorne family’s contract with me was only for six years, and the child was already born. Finally, I could leave. My sprawling thoughts reeled back, and my gaze shifted back inside the car. The next second, I saw an out-of-control truck speeding towards us. Then, a series of crashing sounds. “Bang!” The moment the sensation of falling hit, my forehead slammed against the hard seat. Excruciating pain ripped through my consciousness. My vision went black, and I passed out completely. When I woke again, the pure white ceiling and the sharp smell of disinfectant reminded me where I was. The nurse on rounds, seeing me awake, asked for some basic information before remarking, “You’re really lucky. Just a mild concussion. We had over a dozen patients brought in from that multi-car pileup on Shoreline Drive, and you’re the only survivor.” The nurse checked me again and sighed in relief. “Nothing serious. Just need your family to sign some papers, and then you can leave.” I sat up with difficulty, still reeling from the shock of surviving such a close call. After a long moment, I nodded, picked up my phone, and dialed Alexander’s number. The ringing sound went on and on, but he never answered. Finally, perhaps annoyed, he simply hung up. One call, two calls, three calls… I made over a dozen calls, but he never picked up once. I lowered my eyes and tapped another number – our son, Leo. Time ticked by. The call was hung up again and again. Finally, a message popped up on the screen: **[Can you stop bothering me? I have important things to do. Oh, and make some BBQ ribs at home.]** The impatient tone, the imperious attitude. If no one told you, who would guess the sender was the son I carried for nine months?
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