Chapter 1

1

On the night of our seventh anniversary, I got down on one knee to propose to my girlfriend. In response, her personal assistant dragged out a massive carnival prize wheel for the tenth time to decide my fate.

Once again, the ticking needle bypassed the "Engagement" slot. It clattered to a stop on a punishment: Lick the assistant's shoes.

"Oh well. Since you look so pathetic, I will give you a consolation prize." Victoria smiled down at me. "Just finish this little punishment, and I will finally agree to marry you."

Her assistant, Simon, deliberately shoved his leather shoe into a nearby trash can, scraping it against the grime before holding it out to me.

The entire banquet hall erupted into roaring laughter. Every single guest expected me to obey. After all, marrying Victoria Harrington was the ultimate dream I had bled for over the past seven years.

But as the laughter echoed off the crystal chandeliers, a sudden, crushing exhaustion washed over me. I dropped the velvet ring box. I dropped the bouquet of red roses.

"Victoria."

"I don't want to marry you anymore."

Dead silence fell over the room.

Victoria simply smirked. She reached out, tilting my chin up with a manicured finger. "Wow. Is my little puppy learning how to bark?"

"The whole world knows that marrying me is your life's singular purpose."

She was always like this. Completely dismissive of my actual feelings. But even a pet dog gets taken to the vet when it is sick. She just watched me bleed.

Sensing the mood, Simon stepped forward. "Get on your knees and lick the shoe, Rowan. This is your final test. Don't drop the ball now."

The momentarily quiet crowd burst into laughter all over again.

"Is it really the final test?"

I clenched my fists, locking eyes with Victoria. "If I pass the engagement test, will there be a wedding photoshoot test? If I pass that, will there be a pre-wedding test? A marriage certificate test?"

In the beginning, Victoria used to bury her face in my chest and cry about her past. She told me her toxic ex had destroyed her ability to trust. She said she stopped believing in love until she met me. She begged me to prove that I could withstand the test of time.

For seven years, she pushed me away hundreds of times. I never left. I stood by her like a stone pillar.

Eventually, I thought I had proven myself. I proposed.

Instead of a yes, she listened to Simon and brought out that twisted roulette wheel. Let fate decide, she said. The chance of the needle landing on "Accept Proposal" was exactly one percent. The other ninety-nine percent were humiliating punishments, all centered around serving Simon.

One time, the wheel decreed I had to be Simon's errand boy. He treated me worse than a stray animal. I fetched his coffee. I stood outside the restroom stall to hand him toilet paper. I was forced to be his driver and denied food for a whole day. At a business dinner that night, he made me take all his shots.

I drank until my stomach hemorrhaged.

When Victoria visited me in the hospital, she didn't reprimand Simon. She just sighed and said, "A bet is a bet. Let's hope fate is on your side next time you propose."

I used to think fate would eventually throw me a bone. I used to think Victoria would finally see my devotion, or at least pity me.

So, I meticulously planned another proposal. And failed again.

I drew a punishment to scrub the corporate bathrooms for a month, with Simon as my supervisor. Even when I polished the tiles until they mirrored the ceiling, Simon found flaws. Every employee who walked past snickered at me. They whispered that the Vice President of the company lived worse than a dog.

When Victoria heard the gossip, she did nothing. Instead, she temporarily stripped me of my VP title and gave it to Simon. She took him to every high-profile gala. He basked in the spotlight while I scrubbed urinals.

When I finally broke down and asked her why, she looked at me with disappointment.

"Rowan, it is not that I don't care. I just have to maintain absolute fairness in front of the company. After seven years together, can't you understand my position? Be a good puppy and just obey."

Looking at her disappointed eyes, I actually brainwashed myself into thinking I hadn't done enough. The cycle repeated.

Until yesterday, when I accidentally overheard a conversation between her and Simon.

2

"Boss, if Rowan actually hits that one percent chance someday, will you really marry him?" Simon asked.

"You don't have to call me boss in private." Victoria laughed lightly. "I am the heiress to a corporate empire. Rowan is a nobody from a working-class family."

"What right does he have to marry me?"

"You grew up with me. You are my father's most trusted aide. You are out of his league by a mile. Even if he gets lucky and lands on the engagement slot, there are still wedding photos, the license, the ceremony. I can easily create a new hurdle at every step."

Simon chuckled, his voice thick with excitement. "I will make sure to work hard on those hurdles, then."

That night, a drunk Victoria leaned into Simon's embrace. And I stood frozen outside the door, feeling my heart shatter into dust.

This pathetic, self-sacrificing illusion of love was nothing but a sick joke. I was done.

So tonight, this tenth proposal was my final, exhausted act of rebellion.

Back in the banquet hall, Victoria ignored my question. Her posture grew even more arrogant.

"Rowan!"

"When we first got together, I told you I was highly sensitive. I need constant proof of your sincerity. Now, things get a little tough, and you want to quit? You are nothing but a total hypocrite!"

Her beautiful eyes glared at me with pure venom.

"If you truly love Victoria, you should accept everything about her, shouldn't you?" Simon chimed in, fanning the flames. "Looking at you now, your devotion is totally fake."

A hollow laugh escaped my lips.

What the hell counted as sincere? Did I need to carve my chest open and hand them my beating heart? What kind of fake lover would endure a highly volatile woman who threatened to break up hundreds of times over seven years? What kind of hypocrite swallows his pride to propose ten times in the face of public humiliation?

The words reached the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed them back down. Debating with them was pointless. I turned around and walked toward the exit in silence.

"Rowan!"

Victoria suddenly panicked. She lunged forward, grabbing my arm. Her voice dropped into a cold threat. "You can walk out that door. But if you do, you forfeit everything you have right now."

I stopped in my tracks.

"After seven years together." I looked at her. "Do you really think I stayed with you for the money?"

Victoria lifted her chin, her lips curling into a sneer. "What else could it be? My father introduced me to dozens of billionaire heirs. None of them could handle my temper for more than a few days before running for the hills. Why did a broke loser like you stick around? If it isn't for the money, what is it?"

Once upon a time, she used to curl up in my arms like a kitten and say, Rowan, your love is the only pure thing in my life. You don't want anything from me. I will cherish this forever.

Now, the veil was ripped away. Every word she just spoke was her true, ugly reality.

"Let everyone here be my witness."

I took a deep breath, scanning the faces of the whispering guests before locking eyes with Victoria one last time.

"I announce that as of today, I am walking away from everything."

With that, I ripped my arm out of her grip and walked out. I didn't look back once.

Behind me, Victoria's hands balled into tight fists.

Simon leaned in to comfort her. "Don't worry. It is easy to go from rags to riches, but impossible to go back. Give Rowan a few days. He will come crawling back to beg for forgiveness."

"I heard a new Michelin-star restaurant opened downtown. Let's go grab a bite!"

The surrounding crowd eagerly agreed. Victoria finally nodded.

But they were wrong. I had never lived a life of luxury.

3

Since the day I met Victoria, I never asked her for a single expensive gift. My salary was standard market rate for my position.

To prove I was worthy of her, I worked myself to the bone. I secured over a dozen massive contracts for her company. My industry peers called me a workaholic machine. Several rival conglomerates had even secretly offered me lucrative positions.

When I got back to my apartment, I dragged out a heavy cardboard box filled with leather-bound journals and tossed them into a metal fire pit.

Years ago, Victoria demanded I write down every little detail of our relationship, claiming we would read them together when we grew old. Now, staring at pages filled with my desperate devotion, I just felt nauseous.

As the journals turned to gray ash, I finished packing my single suitcase. Just then, the front door clicked open. Simon walked in, supporting a heavily intoxicated Victoria.

"Rowan."

"You never deserved her. You were just a temporary toy for when she was in a bad mood."

"I am the man she is going to marry. The entire Harrington family approves of me."

Simon pointed to a dark purple hickey on his neck. "See this? Here is the proof."

I always knew there was something going on between them. Victoria's constant defense of Simon made it obvious. I just never realized the full extent of her cruelty. She was stringing me along for a sick power trip while sleeping with him behind my back.

"If you know what is good for you, pack your trash and leave. Stop playing these pathetic hard-to-get games," Simon sneered before strutting out the door.

"Rowan!"

Victoria, slumped on the sofa, blindly reached out and grabbed my wrist. She mumbled, "Where is my hangover soup? Why haven't you made it yet?"

"There will never be another bowl of soup."

I shook my head and reached for my suitcase. Victoria suddenly bolted upright, throwing her arms around my neck. She leaned in, trying to force a kiss onto my lips.

In the past, I would have kissed her back like my life depended on it.

Tonight, I shoved her away. She collapsed back onto the cushions.

"Rowan, do you love me? Do you even love me?" she slurred, her eyes half-closed.

It was a question she asked constantly. And I had always given her the answer she wanted.

"No. I don't love you anymore."

I zipped up my bag, grabbed the handle, and walked out into the cold night air.

When I arrived at my parents' small suburban home, they had a massive dinner waiting on the table. They didn't ask questions. They didn't pry.

My mother just stroked my hair and said, "Son, if you are tired, just rest. Tell us what you want to eat. This house will always be your safe harbor."

Tears pricked the corners of my eyes.

For seven years, my entire universe revolved around Victoria. I chased a cold, distant moon, completely neglecting the warm sun right beside me. But my parents never blamed me. They never tested me. They only wanted me to be happy.

After dinner, I lay in my tiny childhood bedroom. It lacked the marble floors and silk sheets of the city, but it was the most peaceful I had felt in years.

Then, my phone buzzed. It was Richard Harrington, Victoria's father.

"You poor piece of trash! When are you going to stop leaching off my daughter?"

Every time he called, it was the exact same script. And every time, I swallowed my pride, swore I wouldn't leave, and promised to prove my worth.

This time, I fired back. "Trash? Are you looking in a mirror? As of today, I have absolutely nothing to do with your family. Stop harassing me."

I hung up. I blocked his number. I blocked his entire staff.

The next morning, the shrill ring of my phone woke me up. It was Victoria.

4

"Rowan!"

"Have you completely lost your mind? You dared to curse at my father? You actually packed your bags and ran away? Do not take this tantrum too far!"

"My patience is running very thin. Do you understand me?"

She wasn't calling to apologize. She was calling to assert dominance.

"I wasn't joking."

"We are done."

I gave her a flat response and hit the end call button.

Two minutes later, she called back.

"Are you really throwing a fit? You are throwing your career away too?" Her tone had shifted. It was colder, more calculated.

"Yes," I replied.

"Did you forget the non-compete clause you signed? If you resign without my approval, you owe the company a million-dollar penalty."

Victoria chuckled darkly. "However, I am feeling generous. I will give you one chance to wipe that debt clean."

"Tonight is the corporate camping retreat. Come out to the old spot and spin the wheel!"

I froze.

A million dollars was a death sentence for my family. I had no choice but to take the gamble. That evening, I drove up to the remote mountain campsite.

The massive carnival wheel was waiting. The "Cancel Debt/Breakup" slot was narrowed down to a tiny one percent sliver.

The other ninety-nine percent was a single, terrifying punishment: Jump into the nearby abandoned swimming pool, which was currently teeming with snakes.

"Rowan."

"Take a good look at the punishment. I remember you are deathly afraid of snakes, right? I suggest you drop to your knees and apologize right now. Otherwise, when you miss that one percent, you are taking a swim."

Victoria narrowed her eyes, a victorious smirk playing on her lips.

I really couldn't understand her. She obviously despised me. Why was she trying so hard to keep me on a leash? Was my suffering just that entertaining?

"Yeah, Rowan. Beg for mercy," Simon mocked, walking up to me. He leaned in, dropping his voice to a malicious whisper. "I slipped a few dozen highly venomous vipers into that pit. If you jump, you are a dead man."

"Don't blame me for being ruthless. Blame yourself for not knowing your place. You should have walked away gracefully."

I took a deep, shaky breath and walked straight toward the wheel.

Even if the chances were microscopic, I had to try. I would rather risk death than spend another second trapped in this sick, twisted game.

"Rowan!"

"Are you insane? Did you not hear me? There are thousands of snakes down there!"

Victoria stood frozen in shock. She never expected me to actually risk it. She thought I would break.

I ignored her. I reached out, gripped the cold plastic edge of the wheel, and pulled down with all my strength.

Under the watchful eyes of the entire company, the wheel spun into a blur of colors. Gradually, the clicking slowed down. Tick. Tick. Tick.