Chapter 1

“I was the one who put the stimulants in your drink. So what?”

“One championship belt means nothing to you, but this is Mason’s last chance!”

“Ethan, I’m warning you. If you dare stop him from winning the belt this time, I’ll divorce you!”

I wanted to curl my lips into a mocking smile, but my swollen body no longer allowed me to.

In the gloomy alley, I quietly closed my eyes.

When I opened them again, I was standing on the podium at the boxing championship.

I had already become a ghost.

Countless cameras and microphones were aimed at the center of the stage.

My wife, Ava Bennett, and her childhood sweetheart, Mason Reed, stood there, accepting the cheers of every reporter.

The host held a microphone in one hand and raised Mason’s arm high with the other.

“Since the defending champion, Ethan Carter, did not participate in the match, according to the organizing committee’s rules, the new champion’s belt goes to…”

“Mason Reed!”

The crowd instantly erupted into thunderous cheers, and the entire arena burst into life.

Mason freed one hand and pulled Ava into his arms, his bare chest pressed tightly against her.

Ava did not shove him away in disgust and step aside the way she always did with me.

Instead, she grabbed Mason’s hand, her excitement and admiration impossible to hide.

Mason looked into my wife’s eyes, took the microphone, and spoke with deep emotion:

“Today, I won the championship belt. Aside from everyone at my club, there’s one person I have to thank.”

“My coach and nutritionist, Ava Bennett.”

“This belt is not only proof of all my hard work. It’s also a gift for you.”

Mason took Ava’s hand and placed it on the championship belt. The fierceness he had shown during the fight was gone from his eyes, replaced by a tenderness as gentle as water.

Ava’s eyes shimmered with tears, and her voice was soft.

“Mason won this belt through his own hard work.”

The love between them spread throughout the arena through the camera lenses.

The reporters below kept taking pictures, afraid of missing even a single shot.

Even the coaches nearby wore knowing, suggestive smiles.

I watched everything in front of me, and my heart felt like it was being cut apart.

Ava Bennett was clearly my wife, and that championship belt should have belonged to me today.

Yet now, all the glory and happiness belonged to my wife’s childhood sweetheart, Mason Reed.

Before this match, no one believed he could defeat me and win the new championship belt.

The reason was obvious. He had already lost to me for four years in a row, and this was his fifth year.

His stamina had begun to decline with age, while I was at the peak of my career. In terms of technique, physical strength, and determination, I overwhelmed him in every way.

Everyone called Mason the eternal runner-up.

And this year, once again, it was going to be a showdown between the two of us.

Before the final match, Ava said to me:

“This is Mason’s last year competing. Why don’t you let the eternal runner-up take first place for once? Give his career a perfect ending.”

Her meaning was obvious. She wanted me to hold back and let Mason win.

But boxing was not a sport where you could simply give your opponent a victory. No excellent boxer would intentionally hold back.

Without the confidence and determination to win, no one could become a professional boxer.

I told Ava clearly that I could never deliberately lose. Even if I did, Mason would not accept it. It would be disrespectful to my opponent.

Ava had never cared about my matches before. No matter how important or difficult they were, she had always remained indifferent.

But this time, she was unusually attentive.

Early the next morning, she prepared the water I was supposed to drink before the match. When I opened the bottle, I noticed a strange smell in the water.

When I asked her about it, she only said it was a new kind of electrolyte drink with a flavor I had never tried before.

I never suspected a thing. How could I doubt the wife I had lived with for five years?

Before I left, Ava behaved completely out of character and deliberately fussed over me, insisting that I take a sip before going.

Only now did I realize that the strange smell had never come from electrolyte water. It had come from stimulants mixed into it.

She had told me countless times that she hated people who used dirty tricks, but this time, she had betrayed her own principles.

They were enjoying the glory onstage. No one cared about me, the loser, not even my wife.

Everyone cursed me and called me a coward who was afraid to die.

But no one knew that I was allergic to stimulants. Even a tiny amount would trigger a severe allergic reaction and make it impossible for me to breathe. A slightly larger dose could very likely kill me.

Reporters swarmed around them, thrusting microphones toward their faces and firing off all kinds of questions.

Then one reporter’s question made the entire arena fall silent.

“As I understand it, Ethan Carter is your husband. Do you know where he is?”