The night before my engagement to Ian Parker, he got into a car accident while protecting his first love, Nicole Johnson. When I rushed to the hospital and looked through his medical report, I discovered he had never received a heart transplant. I turned pale with shock and asked his parents, “Didn’t he have heart surgery?” “Eleanor, what nonsense are you talking about? My son’s heart is perfectly healthy!” At that moment, I realized my seven years of devotion to Ian had been a ridiculous case of mistaken identity. After Ian was discharged, he publicly smashed our engagement ring in front of my spaghetti at a bar, wanting to break off our engagement. The onlookers expected me to beg him to stay through tears, but I simply nodded calmly and said, “Alright.” The man I truly loved had left long ago. Since Ian wasn’t even a replacement, why should I care about him? ***** Hearing my direct response, Ian’s face darkened with feminine energy. “What’s this? Changed your tactics? Everyone knows you’re my most devoted follower. How could you agree to break off our engagement?” “I told you, unless you personally put shoes on Nicole today, there might still be a chance for our engagement.” I stared at his chest, then looked up and said, “I can certainly do that, but you need to answer one question for me.” Ian sneered, “What is it? Are you going to ask if I love you like in some romantic drama?” I couldn’t care less about who he loved. Seven years ago, my first love Simon Williams was in a car accident on his way to our date. His undamaged organs were donated. Unable to accept this fact, I desperately tracked down the recipients despite the confidential donation information. Eventually, I found Ian. Since then, I followed him like a shadow out of guilt for my deceased lover, even longing to marry him. Taking a deep breath, I asked, “Did you have a heart transplant seven years ago?” Ian impatiently replied, “Are you joking? If I had a heart transplant, could I be racing cars every day?” I closed my eyes in exhaustion, realizing I had gotten everything wrong. Keeping my promise, I personally put high heels on Nicole. The entire booth fell silent, and Ian stared at me in shock. Someone suddenly exclaimed, “Oh my God! Eleanor actually did that to avoid breaking off the engagement!” “So what? Mr. Parker still has no feelings for her.” “Shut up!” Ian slammed his glass on the table, the loud crash of shattering glass silencing everyone. I was surprised that Ian would suddenly defend me. But wasn’t this humiliation something he had inflicted on me himself? He glared at me fiercely and shouted, “Are you deaf? Don’t you know what to do when someone insults you?” “Since you want to break off the engagement, don’t you have any demands?” I smiled bitterly and shook my head, responding, “It doesn’t matter anymore.” I felt it was better to leave promptly rather than waste time on the wrong person. Seeing me so desperate for the first time, Ian became flustered. He suddenly grabbed my wrist and said, “You…” “Ian?” Nicole’s call snapped him back to reality, and he pushed me away. The back of my head hit the bar counter hard, causing my vision to blur from the pain. Nicole also twisted her ankle due to Ian’s sudden movement. Hearing her cry of pain, Ian immediately came to his senses, swept her up in his arms, and anxiously said, “Nicole, I’ll take you to the hospital right away!” After Ian left, his friend threw a full glass of alcohol in my face. “Did you see that? That’s your place in Ian’s heart. How can you compare yourself to Nicole?” “So embarrassing. Stop clinging to Ian.” I wiped the alcohol from my face and calmly said, “Don’t worry, I won’t appear in front of his spaghetti again, and I never loved him anyway.” Hearing this, everyone looked at me in disbelief. Just then, an angry voice rang out. “What are you doing?” Ian had suddenly returned. Seeing my miserable state, he grabbed someone by the collar and roared, “Who did this?” The person frantically waved his hands in fear. “Ian, we didn’t do anything, just a joke.” I was surprised to see him standing up for me again. He took off his jacket, wrapped it around me, and forcefully pulled me away. Just after pushing me into his car, his phone rang. “How serious is Nicole’s condition? I’ll be right there.” He glanced at me and casually said, “You can drive, so go home.” Watching his retreating figure, I called my private investigator, Brad Paisley. Learning I had found the wrong person, Brad apologized profusely and quickly sent new information: [After ruling out Ian, only Marcus from the wealthy Chapman family, who had surgery on the same day, matches the criteria.] Brad: [However, the Chapman family isn’t in this city, so he may have left long ago.] I replied: [Send me his most recent address and book the earliest flight available.]
When I got home, I grabbed my treasured bottle of liquor and started chugging it. In my daze, I thought I saw my first love, Simon, instead of Christian. He looked at me, his voice full of concern: “Why aren’t you taking care of yourself again? How can I not worry about you?” Hearing that familiar care in his voice, tears streamed down my face as I wrapped my arms tightly around his waist, afraid he might disappear. “Simon, don’t go…” As soon as I said this, the man I was hugging pushed me away forcefully. “Who the hell is Simon?” The angry shout instantly snapped me back to reality. Only then did I realize that the person standing before me wasn’t Simon at all, but Ian. Disappointed, I rubbed my temples and casually dismissed it: “Just a friend.” Ian didn’t seem suspicious. In his eyes, I was still that woman hopelessly devoted to him. I changed the subject: “What are you doing at my place?” Ian was momentarily stunned. I smirked coldly: “Aren’t we already broken up? Shouldn’t you be with Nicole right now?” He irritably scratched the back of his head: “Can’t I have other reasons to see you? There’s a business gala tomorrow night, and you need to attend with me.” I immediately understood. No wonder Ian wasn’t angry this time. He wanted to use me to maintain his reputation again. After all, I come from a prestigious family. Even though he deeply loves Nicole, I’ll always be his plus-one at these events. “Fine.” Anyway, I’ve been entangled with him for seven years. I consider this my final favor to him. Seeing how readily I agreed, Ian pushed his luck by cupping my face, intending to kiss me. However, I instinctively pulled away. “Are you rejecting me?” Seeing the resistance in my eyes, Ian immediately became furious with embarrassment. “Don’t you love Nicole?” I countered. My words seemed to hit a nerve. He angrily responded, “Fine, I’ll go kiss Nicole instead! Even if you beg me later, I won’t bother with you!” The next day, I arrived at the venue according to the address Ian had sent. As soon as I stepped into the hall, blinding camera flashes went off one after another. It seemed this gala was far more significant than Ian had let on. Perhaps he was using me for his schemes again. I walked calmly down the red carpet, only to see Ian intimately embracing Nicole for photos in the interview area. In response to the reporter’s leading questions, Ian brazenly introduced: “This is my fiancée’s adopted sister.” I didn’t know if Ian was being stupid or hadn’t fully woken up to say something like that. Nicole and I have no relationship whatsoever, yet he was not only using my reputation but also trying to get Nicole a piece of the pie. Seeing me appear, Ian flashed a smug smile and beckoned to me with his finger as if summoning a pet. The reporters immediately swarmed around like sharks smelling blood. One of them directly produced a photo showing me putting shoes on Nicole at the bar. My face was clearly visible in the photo, while Nicole in Ian’s arms was deliberately blurred. I didn’t even need to guess whose idea this was. The reporter aggressively asked, “Ms. Lambert, that’s you in the photo, right? I heard you’re willing to put shoes on his beloved woman just to please your fiancé. Will you also serve her when they’re in bed together? You’re the heir to the Lambert family. Are you really this obsessed with Mr. Parker?” Amid everyone’s mocking gazes, I laughed coldly and said, “I don’t love him anymore.”
After I finished speaking, everyone present stared at me with shocked expressions. Ian glared at me like I was insane, his face filled with astonishment and anger. However, I’d had enough and didn’t want to be tormented by him anymore. “I have something to attend to, so I need to leave now.” Then, I turned and walked away without looking back. The moment I pushed open the conference hall doors, an unprecedented feeling of relief washed over me. But just as I was about to get in my car and leave, Ian suddenly came running after me. He urgently blocked my path and said, “Eleanor, why can’t you be more reasonable?” I couldn’t be bothered to respond and intended to leave immediately, but he gripped my wrist tightly. “I know you’re angry, but as my wife, haven’t you experienced this kind of thing often enough? Can’t you be more gracious? Why do you have to quarrel with Nicole over such a small matter? Why don’t you consider my position more? What are Nicole and I supposed to do now that you’re leaving?” Seeing that I remained unmoved, he continued with feigned tenderness, “I’ll take care of the photo issue. Aren’t you satisfied with that?” I forcefully shook off his hand and coldly replied, “You don’t need to do that.” He looked incredulous and said through gritted teeth, “Don’t regret this!” I couldn’t be bothered to look at him again and turned to leave. As soon as I got home, my mother called. She anxiously said, “Eleanor, have you seen the news? What’s with that photo? How dare Ian make you put shoes on someone else in public?” Hearing my mother stand up for me, I was touched. Then, I gently reassured her, “Mom, don’t worry. I’ve already broken off the engagement with him. I won’t have anything to do with him anymore.” My mother responded joyfully, “Really? That’s wonderful! I always thought that guy was terrible.” I smiled and said, “Yes. We can also terminate our business partnership with his family.” My mother readily agreed. Just after hanging up, a message from Brad popped up: [A wealthy man from the Chapman family is holding a photography exhibition in New York recently. Would you be interested in going to see it?] My heart immediately raced, and the memory of that photography-loving boy Christmas resurfaced. I promptly changed my ticket to the earliest available. On my way to the station after quickly packing my luggage, Ian kept calling me. I kept hanging up, but it was to no avail. His angry voice came through from the other end of the line: “Eleanor! Are you crazy? Just because reporters criticized you, you want to get revenge on me? Why are you still causing trouble out of jealousy?” I sighed and calmly responded, “I’m not jealous.” But Ian, always arrogant and conceited, stubbornly believed I was just being petulant. “I’ll give you one last chance. Have your family back off immediately, and I can pretend nothing happened.” I hung up directly, not bothering to listen to any more of his nonsense. Looking at the disconnected phone, Ian felt an inexplicable sense of unease. However, he wouldn’t apologize to me first. After all, I had always been the one to admit fault in the past. Three days passed, and I hadn’t called him once. In the past, I would have come back to apologize within a day. Finally, Ian couldn’t hold back anymore and called one of our mutual friends to ask about my situation. When he asked where I was, our friend hesitated. After Ian pressed him repeatedly, the friend reluctantly told the truth. “Eleanor went to New York. She said she was going to find her boyfriend.” At this moment, I’m on the train scrolling through messages from Brad. He told me that Marcus, the wealthy heir of the Chapman family, is passionate about photography. His favorite hobby is venturing deep into remote mountains to capture rare natural wonders. I stare at the photo on my phone screen. The man in the picture has neat, short hair and eyes filled with an otherworldly detachment. For some reason, I find it quite amusing. He looks neither like a privileged rich kid nor like an art-obsessed photographer, but rather like a pastor ready to enter a church at any moment. However, on second thought, I start to feel anxious. I think someone as detached and dispassionate as him would be extremely difficult to approach. How to get close to him becomes a thorny problem. I nervously make my way to the photography exhibition in New York. I had planned to secretly look for Marcus first, but unexpectedly, as soon as I enter one of the exhibition halls, I see a middle-aged man wearing a gold necklace causing trouble. He’s grabbing the collar of a man whose back is to me, shouting, “I said I want to buy your work. Are you deaf?” From where I’m standing, I can clearly see the gold teeth in the middle-aged man’s mouth. But no matter how rudely he yells, the man being grabbed by the collar remains completely unfazed. I can’t help but look around, surprised to find that not a single security guard has come to intervene, and the entire exhibition hall is eerily empty, with no other visitors. Seeing the middle-aged man raise his fist, I can’t stand it anymore. I quickly step forward and shout, “Stop! Do you want to get arrested?” Hearing my words, the man glares at me. “Who do you think you are? This is none of your business!” I wave my phone in front of his eyes and say, “I’ve recorded your little performance. If you don’t want to be detained, stop right now.” The man’s face instantly darkens. He lets go of the other man and lunges toward me to grab my phone. However, this is exactly what I wanted. As he rushes forward, I pull out my stun baton from my bag and jab it into his stomach without hesitation. This guy clearly underestimated me, and with no defense prepared, he immediately convulses from the shock and collapses to the ground. I calmly put away my stun baton. Just as I’m about to leave, I suddenly hear a light male voice from behind me. “Hey.” Without turning around, I wave my hand dismissively. “No need to thank me.” However, the man chuckles. “Who said I was going to thank you? I’m saying you’re in the wrong place.” “What?” The man who had been grabbed by the collar slowly stands up, his back still to me, brushing dust off his clothes as he continues, “Don’t you know? This exhibition hall isn’t open to the public. You and that guy on the floor are both uninvited guests.” Hearing him lump me together with that middle-aged man, I immediately feel my blood boil. “I didn’t see any sign prohibiting entry! Is this how you treat someone who just saved you?” The man suddenly laughs. “Saved me? Come on, stop playing these childish games.” He points toward the entrance and continues, “Can’t you see that huge sign?” Somewhat irritated, I look at the sign by the door. I had seen it when I came in—wasn’t it just reminding visitors not to bring pet dogs inside? I storm over to the entrance to take a closer look and am immediately speechless. Someone had used a marker to crudely add the word “People” before the original “No Dogs Allowed.” Now the complete message reads “No People or Dogs Allowed.” I stand there dumbfounded, at a loss for words. After a long silence, I hear the man’s soft laughter behind me. “Do you see it clearly now?” I have nothing to say and start to walk out with my head down. Then he speaks again, “What’s wrong? Not playing my savior anymore?” I never expected to save a madman. I don’t want to say anything now; I just want to leave quickly and find that rich young man, Marcus. But after taking just a few steps, something makes me glance back. I see a man in loose-fitting overalls leaning against the wall, smiling at me. I freeze instantly because that mocking face belongs to none other than Marcus, the very person I’ve been desperately searching for. He’s been right in front of me, and I failed to recognize him. Our first meeting has turned into such a big misunderstanding. Seeing me frozen in place, Marcus’s eyes flash with interest. He casually gives a hard kick to the unconscious middle-aged man on the floor, then walks up to me and asks, “Tell me, how would you like me to repay you?” I close my eyes, wishing I could go home right now, but thinking about my first love, I force myself to endure. If I could be infatuated with a man like Ian for seven years, then what’s a man like Marcus? He’s the carefully groomed heir of the Chapman family, so I still give him a perfect smile. “May I treat you to a meal?”
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