Chapter 2The Canary and the Hunter

So that's where he was. Picking up his "light."

What is he, a moth?

So the real deal is back.

And I, the counterfeit, the bed-warmer, have been crushed into dust by this "light."

The coldness on my chest turned into a branding iron, searing my insides.

It hurt more than the bed collapsing on me.

Ten years.

From freshman orientation, I followed him like a shadow.

Watching him play ball, win awards, charm everyone.

Fetching his water, washing his socks, building his company, drinking for him...

That humble, unspoken crush was my deepest secret.

So three years ago, when he handed me that harsh "Secretary Contract" with the implied night shift, I knew it was a trap, but I jumped anyway.

With a pathetic, zombie-like joy—at least I could be close to him, even in the most shameful way.

For three years, I played the perfect secretary and the obedient canary.

He paid, I smiled. Fair trade.

I even hypnotized myself into thinking that in those twisted moments of tenderness, maybe a tiny bit belonged to "Noah Shen."

Until now.

Until this photo slapped me across the face, shattering my delusions.

I wasn't even a counterfeit anymore.

I was trash that needed to be taken out.

Love?

That hidden, shameful desire belonging to "Noah Shen" was burned to ash by that smile and those words.

My heart felt empty.

Not painful, just cold. So cold my fingers trembled.

Julian finally stood up and pulled on his pants.

He noticed the photo on my chest, my pale face, and my dead eyes.

He frowned deeper, a flicker of... annoyance? Or embarrassment at being caught?

He bent down and snatched the photo roughly.

"You always liked money. I'll give you ten million. Liam is innocent. Stay away from him. If he's not around, you can still stay here. Don't let him know about us, or he'll be disgusted."

His voice was cold, hoarse from the activity, impatient. He shoved the photo back in his pocket.

He pulled a checkbook from his suit jacket, scribbled, and tore a page out.

The flimsy piece of paper fluttered down like charity to a beggar, landing on my naked, dusty stomach.

The number was pretty.

Ten million.

Buyout for three years.

Buyout for my ten years of wasted love.

"Cleanup fee" for this piece of trash.

So generous, Boss Gu.

Disgusted?

Damn it.

Who was just sweating and moaning a minute ago?

I looked at the check, then at him.

He stood by the wreckage, dressed impeccably, back to the cold, noble CEO Gu.

The intensity and the cold "end" felt like a bizarre dream.

Only the broken bed and the check on my naked body proved it happened.

I twitched my lips.

Not a smile.

Just the calm of a dead heart.

Slowly, I pushed myself up from the cold floor, body aching.

Ignoring my wretched state, ignoring the check.

Right in front of him, I slowly picked up my clothes and put them on.

Movements steady, fingers not shaking.

Buttoned the last button of my shirt.

Covering all the marks.

Only then did I bend down and pick up the check from the dust with two fingers.

I flicked non-existent dust off it and looked up at Julian, who was frowning, surprised by my calmness.

"Boss Gu, I served you day and night for three years. I earned this money. I won't say thanks!"

My voice was flat as a frozen lake.

His brow relaxed, probably thinking I was being sensible.

I looked at him and articulated the second half clearly: "But the end isn't up to you. It's me, Noah Shen, who doesn't want you anymore."

Julian, your game is over.

Now, I'm the dealer.