The city shimmered with a private fireworks display on the night Channing Sterling announced his engagement. I was on my knees, scrubbing floors in a high-end club, clutching the diagnosis in my hand: terminal stomach cancer. He was there, holding that woman with the innocent eyes, his foot casually pressing down on my hand, crushing my finger bones. “Scarlett, look closely. *This* is the woman Channing Sterling is going to marry.” “As for you, you only deserve to crawl in the gutter and atone for your sins.” I bit my lip, swallowing the metallic tang that surged in my throat, not uttering a sound. He didn’t know these hands had once dug for him for three days and three nights in the ruins, already ruined beyond repair. He knew even less that the “murderer” he hated so much had only three months left to live. If you want me to atone, then I’ll give you my life. How about that? Channing had booked out the entire top-floor VIP lounge to celebrate Serena’s return to the country. The manager found me then. I was hiding in the changing room, gulping down painkillers. My stomach was on fire, searing pain making me break out in a cold sweat. “Scarlett, hurry up! Mr. Sterling specifically asked for you to serve drinks. Don’t you dare mess this up for me!” The manager rushed me, snatching the cleaner’s uniform I’d just put on. He tossed me an incredibly revealing bunny girl outfit. “Put this on. If Mr. Sterling isn’t happy tonight, your brother, clinging to life in the hospital, will be thrown out of his room tomorrow!” At the mention of Leo, the refusal I’d been about to voice died in my throat. I looked at my pale, skeletal reflection in the mirror. I forced a smile, uglier than a cry. Scarlett, what are you still being dramatic about? Your dignity was torn to shreds by Channing himself three years ago, on that rainy night. The moment I pushed open the lounge door, a tidal wave of noise crashed over me. But my eyes instantly found Channing, seated at the head of the main table. He wore a black shirt, collar slightly unbuttoned. He swirled a half-glass of red wine, his gaze cold and lazy. And nestled in his arms was Serena, in a white dress. The air in the lounge froze for a moment when I walked in. Then came the unrestrained jeers of the rich brats. “Well, well, isn’t that New York’s former It-girl? How did she fall so far?” “This is karma! Back then, she almost killed Serena just to climb the ladder. A vicious woman like that deserves it!” Channing heard them and lazily lifted his eyelids. His gaze landed on me, devoid of any warmth. “What are you standing there for? Come over and pour Serena some wine.” I moved stiffly. Walking to the coffee table, I knelt, picking up the decanter with trembling hands. A violent spasm gripped my stomach. My hand shook, and a few drops of red wine splashed onto Serena’s pristine white skirt. “Ah!” Serena shrieked, shrinking further into Channing’s arms. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry…” I frantically tried to wipe it, but Channing’s foot slammed into my chest. “Get out! Don’t touch her with your filthy hands!” The kick was merciless, holding nothing back. I flew backward, my spine hitting the hard edge of the table, the pain making my vision black out. A metallic taste rose in my throat. I bit my lip hard, terrified that the blood would spill out and stain his sight. Channing looked down at me, his eyes full of disgust: “Scarlett, you’re truly sickening. You can’t even do this little thing right. Were you trying to be deliberate?” “Trying to get my attention with these cheap tricks? You’re not worthy.” I lay on the floor, taking a long time to manage to prop myself up. Get his attention? Right, in his mind. Scarlett was just a conniving bitch who would do anything for money. Even now, when I was dying. He would only think I was faking it, putting on a show. Serena’s eyes were red-rimmed, and she tugged at Channing’s sleeve, her voice soft and sweet: “Channing, don’t blame Scarlett. She surely didn’t do it on purpose… It’s just a shame about this dress; it was a special birthday gift from you.” Channing tenderly patted her hand. When he turned to look at me, his eyes instantly turned sinister. “Since you’ve ruined Serena’s dress, you’ll pay for it yourself.” “Drink these ten bottles of Louis XIII on the table. Finish them, and I’ll pretend nothing happened tonight.” “Otherwise, you can crawl out of here.”
Ten bottles of Louis XIII. For a healthy person, that would be a deadly amount. Even more so for me, a terminal stomach cancer patient. The doctor had warned me. My stomach couldn’t even handle a single drop of anything spicy now. Drinking alcohol was suicide. I looked up, peering through my messy hair at Channing. His expression was cold and resolute, with no hint of joking. “Mr. Sterling, I… I can’t drink.” I pleaded humbly. “I’m not feeling well. Could you… perhaps give me a different punishment?” “Not feeling well?” Channing sneered. “Scarlett, stop with your hypocritical games. When you pushed Serena down the stairs, did you ever think about how *she* felt?” “When you took five million dollars to dump me, did you ever think about how *I* felt?” Raking up old wounds, every word stung my heart. I opened my mouth, wanting to explain. I wanted to say that it wasn’t me who pushed Serena; she rolled down herself to frame me. I wanted to say that the five million was to save *his* life when he was in the ICU. I gave all the money to the doctors. I had to sell my blood to cover the subsequent expenses. But what good would explanations do? In these three years, I had explained countless times. But all I got in return was his deeper disgust and more brutal beatings. “Not going to drink, huh?” Channing lost patience, signaling to the bodyguards nearby. “Force it down her!” Two bodyguards immediately stepped forward, grabbing my shoulders. The icy liquor was forcibly poured down my throat, making tears stream down my face as I choked. The burning liquid flowed down my esophagus into my stomach, instantly causing violent cramps. Agonizing, heart-wrenching pain. I struggled desperately, but I was no match for their strength. One bottle, two bottles… Until the fifth bottle was forced down. I finally couldn’t hold it in and threw up. The vomit was mixed with startling bright red. Inside the lounge. Some guests looked at the blood on the floor with uncertainty. “Oh my god, she’s spitting blood…” “Is it real? Or is she faking it?” Channing looked at the pool of blood, his brows furrowing slightly. An almost imperceptible flicker crossed his eyes. But the next second, Serena’s horrified voice rang out: “Oh! What’s going on? Scarlett, did you prepare a blood bag beforehand to scare Channing?” “I saw you use that trick before, when we were on set…” One sentence instantly dispelled all of Channing’s doubts. The flicker in his eyes vanished, replaced by an even more intense mockery. “Scarlett, you’ve really grown some nerve. To avoid punishment, you’d stoop to such disgusting tactics.” “It seems these years in jail, you learned nothing else, but your acting skills have certainly improved.” He stood up and walked step by step towards me. He crouched down, savagely pinching my chin. “Since you love acting so much, I’ll give you a chance to put on a show.” “Lick up what’s on the floor.” I stared, wide-eyed, disbelievingly at him. The twisting pain in my stomach made my whole body tremble, cold sweat had already soaked through my clothes. But the pain in my heart was a hundred times worse than my body’s. This was the man I had loved for ten years. This was the man I had saved. Willing to ruin my hands, willing to bear scorn, willing to sacrifice my health. “Channing… just kill me.” I closed my eyes in despair, tears tracing paths down my temples. “Kill you? That would be too easy for you.” Channing gave a cold laugh, throwing my face away. He pulled out a wet wipe and fastidiously cleaned his hands. “Serena is someone *you* can bully? You’ll kneel here tonight until morning.” “If you’re even a minute short, I’ll have your brother’s ventilator turned off.” With that, he scooped up Serena and walked out of the lounge without a backward glance. His group of awful friends also followed suit. Before leaving, they didn’t forget to spit on me and kick me a few times. The lounge finally fell silent. I curled up on the cold floor. Unable to help myself, I vomited large mouthfuls of blood. The bright red blood stained the white fur of the bunny girl outfit. I shakily pulled out the crumpled lab report from my pocket. Looking at the word “terminal” on it, I let out a bitter laugh. Channing, you win. This life, I probably can’t ever repay the debt I owe you. But it was clearly… *you* who owed me a life.
That night, I truly knelt in the lounge all night. I passed out several times, only to be jolted awake by excruciating pain. The next morning, the cleaning lady came in to tidy up. When she saw me, covered in blood, she screamed. I clung to my last breath, crawling back to the dark, damp rental apartment. There, I had my only spiritual solace. It was the last sketchbook my mother had left me. I was an oil painting student, once hailed as a child prodigy. My hands, once praised by my tutor as “hands kissed by God.” But during that earthquake rescue. To dig out Channing, who was buried under the rubble. My ten fingers suffered severe fractures, my nerves were damaged, and I could never hold a paintbrush again. And Serena. She became his savior simply by handing him a bottle of water when he woke up. I fumbled to open the locked tin box. Empty. My heart sank instantly, an ominous premonition engulfing me. That was my everything! I frantically searched the entire apartment, but it was nowhere, absolutely nowhere! Just then, my phone rang. It was an MMS from Serena. The photo showed a burning brazier. Inside the brazier, that familiar sketchbook was being consumed by flames, only half of its damaged cover remaining. Immediately after, a voice note came through SnapChat. Serena’s sweet voice, barely concealing her malice, said: “Scarlett, I heard this was your mother’s last memento? I thought it was too old and smelled musty, so I helped you get rid of it.” “Don’t blame me, though. Channing said that looking at your things annoyed him, so I could do whatever I wanted with them.” “Oh, and by the way, Channing also said that a cripple like you keeping a sketchbook is an insult to art.” That was the only keepsake my mother left me, my motivation to live in despair. Now, it had been burned to ashes by them. My hand holding the phone trembled violently. “Serena! I’ll kill you!” I stumbled out of the house, running towards Sterling Manor. In that moment, I forgot the pain in my body, I forgot the cancer in my stomach. Only one thought consumed my mind— I was going to drag them down with me! When I burst into Sterling Manor’s garden. Channing was with Serena, pruning flowers. In the sunlight, they looked perfect together. I lunged forward, pushing Serena aside, and fiercely clamped my hands around her neck. “Why did you burn my sketchbook! Why! Give me back my mother!” Serena screamed, struggling desperately. “You lunatic! Help! Channing, help me!” Before I could apply more force, a huge power suddenly struck me from behind. Channing delivered a savage kick to my waist. I flew through the air, crashing heavily against the stone wall of the fountain. My waist felt like it had broken, the pain excruciating. I lay on the ground, unable to get up for a long time. Channing rushed forward, immediately pulling a startled Serena into his embrace. Then he turned, glaring at me venomously. “Scarlett, you’re looking for death!” “It’s just some worthless sketchbook! So what if it’s burned? Why are you throwing a fit? How dare you come here and try to attack her!” Worthless sketchbook? I looked up, tears streaming down my face, my heart dead. “That was… my mom’s last memento… it was the only thing… I had left in this life…” Channing looked down at me: “Someone like you, you actually talk about feelings?” “If your mom knew you sold your body for money, and murdered for power,” “She’d probably be so angry she’d crawl out of her coffin and die again!” “Scarlett, I’m warning you, this is the last time. If you dare to lay another finger on Serena, I’ll end your life!” I lay on the ground, looking at this man I had loved for ten years. Every word he spoke. Was like a blunt knife, carving into my flesh, slice by slice. I didn’t understand why fate was so cruel to me. I saved him, I loved him, I gave him everything. Only to be met with this outcome. “Channing…” I weakly called his name. “If one day… you knew the truth… would you regret it?” Channing paused, then laughed as if he’d heard the funniest joke. “Regret? The biggest regret of my life, Scarlett, is ever knowing a woman as utterly deceitful as you!” “Someone, get her out of here! Don’t let her dirty Serena’s sight!” Several bodyguards came over, dragging me like a dead dog. I didn’t struggle, letting my body be scraped against the rough ground. My gaze, however, remained fixed on Serena not far away. She was hiding in Channing’s arms, giving me a victorious smile. Just as I was being dragged out the main gate. I vomited another large mouthful of blood. This time, the blood stained the expensive Persian rug in Sterling Manor. Channing looked at the puddle of blood, his brows tightly knit, a flicker of inexplicable panic in his eyes. But he quickly turned away, no longer looking at me. I was dumped on the roadside outside the mansion. A heavy rain began to fall, the icy water hitting my body, chilling me to the bone. Lying in the mud, I looked up at the gray sky and suddenly smiled. My tears and the rain mingled. Channing, I owe you nothing now. In this life, I owe you nothing more.
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