"Enough, Vicky. Don't get mad. We're late for the meeting with Mr. Dawson," Ryan said.
Victoria glared at me, still huddled on the ground, her Chanel purse clutched tightly. 
"Ethan Caldwell, you're pathetic! Look at Ryan, then at you!"

"For three years, Ryan's been by my side, supporting me. Without him, I'd have fallen apart. Look at you now—you think you still deserve me?"
She hooked her arm through Ryan's and stormed off.
Ryan shot me a mocking grin, mouthing," Loser!"
I trembled, watching them leave.
"Sir! Your pinky—what happened?"
I lowered my head, staring at my right pinky, twisted grotesquely.

After three years apart, Victoria barely glanced at me before walking away.
She didn't notice my limp, let alone my mangled finger.
I gave a hollow laugh."Nothing. Just broke and didn't heal right."
"…Let me take you to a hospital."

The bodyguard helped me up. My body sagged, leaning heavily on him.
Ryan had entered Victoria's life three years ago. 
I always knew she had a childhood friend—a boy she grew up with. His family hit hard times, and they sent him abroad.
For years, Victoria stayed single, and I knew she was waiting for him. 
I knew she was waiting for him.
And I waited for her.
I turned down every woman my family introduced me, to the point my parents suspected I was gay.
Then one stormy night, Victoria showed up at my door.
"Ethan, I'm done waiting. Got someone you want to marry?"
"If not, what about me?"
I was overwhelmed, hugging her tightly.
She had no idea how much I loved her then.
I gave her everything—devotion, patience, care. Slowly, my efforts paid off.
But everything changed when Ryan returned.
I found a witness proving Ryan was the drunk driver who killed my parents.
He fled the scene, fearing consequences, and even ran them over repeatedly to cover his tracks.
But Victoria refused to believe it.
She swore he was with her all night, and eventually, the witness recanted. 
I was alone, labeled a jealous lunatic.
I'll never forget rushing to the hospital, seeing my parents'mangled, cold bodies.
Or how Victoria lured me into that basement and locked me away. 
"Ethan, you're too worked up. You need to calm down."
…
"What's with these injuries?" The doctor frowned at the bodyguard."Family?"
The bodyguard nodded stiffly.
"These wounds are old. Why wait so long? The pinky won't fully heal, even if reset. And your leg—what happened?"
I glanced at the bodyguard.
I knew Victoria's orders: not a word about the basement.
If I spoke, she'd never tell me where my parents were buried.