Chapter 3

I didn’t hear Leah’s reply.

My phone vibrated violently in my palm.

The moment I answered, a shriek pierced my eardrum.

"Evan! Where the hell are you? The penthouse on Fifth Avenue needs cleaning right now! Do you want to get yourself fired?

If you’re not here in ten minutes, forget about your deposit! And last month’s salary is gone too!"

Two hours ago, even with a high fever, I would have apologized immediately.

To get that two-hundred-dollar perfect attendance bonus, I’d rush to the subway station even in a storm, just to scrape together Leah’s therapy fees for the week.

For a ten-dollar tip, I’d kneel on a rich person’s marble floor, scrubbing tile grout with a toothbrush until my hands were covered in chilblains, feeling like they were being pricked with needles.

All for a fake blind person, I’d lived a life like a dog.

"Speak! Cat got your tongue?" The supervisor was still roaring. "If you don’t want the job, get lost!"

I looked at my disheveled reflection in the window and suddenly laughed.

"Fine, I quit."

Hang up. Block.

I took off the jacket reeking of cheap detergent and threw it into the nearest trash can.

The old Evan was dead.

The next day. Cloud Summit Center, affiliated with the Thorne Group.

Hosting the "Annual Pioneer Design VIP Preview Gala" was the height of vanity.

I wore an old suit, then showed the security personnel the top-level access code on my phone—sent to me personally by Cecilia this morning.

After all, this was Thorne’s turf.

Inside, Colin’s voice drowned out the media scrum. "My inspiration truly stems from my understanding of 'rebirth'..."

Shameless! He was bragging about an idea he’d plagiarized from my mother’s manuscripts.

Suddenly, his gaze swept the room like a venomous snake, finally locking onto me in the corner.

"Oh my god! Security! Where’s security?" Colin shrieked exaggeratedly. "How did this thing get in? The air is practically polluted!"

The eyes of everyone in the room focused on me.

Colin strode over, a pack of reporters following him like hungry wolves.

"Evan, are you here to steal? Or to hook up with a rich woman? How dare a janitor set foot in Cloud Summit?"

Light laughter rippled through the crowd.

"How did scum like him get in?"

"God, poor people are terrifying these days. They ruin everything."

"Call the police before he spreads germs."

Their malicious gazes stuck to me like flies.

I tried to walk around him to visit the main exhibition hall. But the moment I moved, Colin suddenly lunged, pretending to turn, and shoved me hard.

"Get back to your sewer, you deaf rat!"

He used all his strength.

My center of gravity shifted instantly. I staggered back, losing control.

The sound exploded in the banquet hall like a gunshot.

My back slammed heavily into the glass display case. The star of the evening—the "Tear of the Abyss" blue diamond necklace—slid out.

It shattered on the floor.

Everyone’s eyes widened, fixed on the wreckage before them.

"Oh my god... that’s the Tear of the Abyss..."

"That’s worth thirty million dollars..."

"It’s over. Even if he sold his kidneys ten thousand times, he couldn’t pay that back."

After the initial shock, a twisted ecstasy bloomed on Colin’s face.

He looked down at me, his tone dripping with chilling mockery. "That was quite a fall, Evan."

I pushed myself up from the floor. My palms were cut by the shards, blood gushing out.

"You pushed me," I said.

"Who saw that?" Colin looked around.

The so-called elites who were whispering just moments ago now averted their eyes or watched with keen interest.

No one would speak up for a janitor. That was reality.

"Listen, Evan," Colin leaned close to my ear, "I can have security call the police right now. You’ll spend the rest of your life in prison, buried under millions in debt. Your dead mother’s reputation will be ruined along with you."

"But..." He straightened up, his voice suddenly loud enough for the room to hear. "After all, we’re 'old friends.'"

He took a step back, spreading his legs wide.

"Now crawl between my legs like the dog you are. While you crawl, shout 'I’m a thief, I’m a male prostitute.' If you do that, I’ll spare you. I’ll ask the host to just have you thrown in jail, no compensation."

"How about it? That’s the greatest mercy I can grant."

A collective gasp filled the room. This wasn’t just humiliation; it was stripping a person of their dignity alive and grinding it into the mud.

"Isn’t that a bit too much?" someone whispered.

"Shh, he’s the future head designer. Don’t get involved."

Colin looked at me smugly, waiting for me to beg for mercy, wagging my tail.

"In your dreams," I said, my voice trembling with anger.

"Still so stubborn?" Colin’s face darkened. "Security! Pin this lunatic down! If he won’t crawl himself, help him!"

Two burly guards rushed forward, roughly grabbed my shoulders, and forced me to the ground.

A sharp pain shot through my body as my knees were forcibly bent.

I looked up, staring straight into Colin’s twisted face, and screamed:

"I’m Evan Sterling! I’m Cecilia Thorne’s fiancé!"

The air seemed to freeze for an instant.

Then, laughter erupted, ten times louder than before.

"Mad! He’s really gone mad!"

"Gold-digging delusions? Cecilia Thorne marrying a janitor?"

"Joke of the year, hahaha!"

Colin laughed until tears streamed down his face. "Fiancé? If you’re really Cecilia’s fiancé, then I’m God! You delusional freak, get to the mental hospital!"

His smile vanished, replaced by pure malice. "What are you waiting for? Shut him up!"

The guards pressed down on me with all their might, their hands gripping the top of my head tightly, the immense force nearly suffocating me.

Despair washed over me like a tide.

Just as my face was forced towards Colin’s crotch—the crowd was suddenly torn apart by an invisible force.

A tall figure appeared at the end of the red carpet.

Cecilia Thorne.

A custom-made, pure black pantsuit perfectly outlined her tall, powerful figure.

The two fierce guards, upon seeing her, froze instantly, as if their spines had been pulled out.

Their faces turned pale, their hands trembling uncontrollably as they released me. "Ms. Thorne... Ms. Thorne."

Cecilia frowned slightly, looking at my disheveled state and the blood dripping from my hands.

Her voice was low, deadly, and brooked no argument.

"How dare you lay a hand on my fiancé?"