I quickly smoothed down the eyebrow that had involuntarily arched in anticipation.
"Scarlett Davis! How dare you treat my son this way!"
My father’s voice boomed, thick with outrage.

Their dramatic entrance sent shockwaves through the already buzzing room:
"That man... isn't that Mr. Williams? The titan of finance? Filthy rich!"
"And the woman beside him... Mrs. Williams? The renowned concert violinist!"
"Holy—! And that's Anya Stone! The CEO!"
"This 'civilian' has connections like that?!"
...

I lifted my gaze and locked eyes with Scarlett. Her expression was pure, unadulterated disbelief.
I knew exactlywhat shocked her.
I had never told her about my background – that I came from immense wealth, that my parents were formidable figures in their own right.
I'd been afraid she'd feel inadequate, pressured.

So, she only knew my parents were alive and well.
She thought I was a nobody. A pushover. Easy to manipulate, easy to bully.
She couldn't have been more wrong.
A stunned silence fell over the room.
Since everyone was struck dumb, it was finally my turn.
I pulled out the evidence, piece by damning piece.
A marriage certificate. A series of wedding photos. A finalized divorce decree. A positive pregnancy test. And finally, the crowning jewel – a crystal-clear recording of Scarlett begging me to be her scapegoat, to cover for her and Liam.
Facts were far more honest than her lies.
I saw Scarlett’s phone buzz. She glanced at it, her face instantly turning ashen. She closed her eyes in utter despair, silent.
Clearly, her powerful backers had just cut her loose.
Liam, playing the victim, forced out a few crocodile tears:
"I... I didn't know! Scarlett told me she was single! I'm a victim here too!"
Liam tried one last desperate ploy, but the public's scrutiny was unforgiving. Faced with such overwhelming proof, he had no choice but to slump into defeated silence, a target for ridicule.
I heard later that Scarlett went back and terminated the pregnancy.
Liam was completely blacklisted. Even without me actively seeking revenge, his life was effectively ruined.
The whole world knew he was a knowing participant in an affair.
Scarlett, meanwhile, resorted to stalking me, desperately trying to win me back.
She tried every trick in the book. I ignored them all.
Eventually, I decided to move abroad for a few years to study, to build a new life entirely.
I was finally free. No lingering love. No burning hatred.
Before leaving, I mailed Scarlett a small box.
Inside was the locket.
It was the token she gave me when she confessed her feelings all those years ago.
I vividly remember the look in her eyes then – that brilliant, untarnished glow unique to youth, so bright and sincere.
"Jason, if I'm with you, there will never be another."
"If there ever is, I'll end myself."
Her melodramatic declaration had made me laugh back then. Who confessed like that?
The locket was a symbol of fidelity.
She wanted us bound together forever.
Young love's promises are the most beautiful, but reality is harsh.
The locket she gave me was now tarnished, no longer gleaming or pure.
Just like her. Just like the feelings we once shared.
After moving abroad, I stopped following her story.
But friends, ever the gossips, kept me informed:
"Karma's a real bitch, Jason. You know Scarlett and Liam ended up together? And they're miserable."
"After the scandal ruined her, and with you gone, she had no one left to torment. Tried her hand at business, racked up massive debts."
"God knows why those two trainwrecks even got married after everything, but it didn't last. Liam cheated on her almost immediately – hooked up with some wealthy socialite, then dumped her for a nouveau riche guy funding those cheesy short plays. Got caught by the guy's actualwife last week and beaten half to death."
"Scarlett's not much better. Rumor is she's got cancer. Doesn't have long."
I just smiled, gazing into the distance.
Sunlight shimmered. A soft breeze brushed my face.
Everything now was perfectly balanced. Carefree. Liberated. My sense of happiness had deepened profoundly.
I exist to delight myself, not to be trapped by others.