Chapter 4The Debt You Owe Me

"Victoria... I feel so sick... I can't breathe..."

Victoria's face instantly drained of color. She threw herself over the center console to check on him. "Tristan, what's wrong?"

"I... I think... I am having an allergic reaction to peanuts..." Tristan's voice was broken and breathy, dripping with agonizing pain.

Victoria's head snapped toward me, her eyes blazing with absolute condemnation.

"Joey! You knew Tristan was deathly allergic to peanuts! Why didn't you warn the kitchen staff beforehand?"

I stared at her, completely dumbfounded by her logic.

When exactly was I ever informed of his allergies?

And why on earth was it my responsibility to manage the dietary restrictions of a random interloper in my father-in-law's kitchen?

Furthermore, all the dishes were already plated and served by the time we even arrived.

"I had no idea he was allergic to peanuts," I answered in a deadpan tone.

"You didn't know?" Victoria's voice spiked in volume. "You did this on purpose! Are you really that desperate to eliminate him?"

A sharp, incredulous laugh ripped out of me. "So what if I did? What exactly do you want from me? Do you want me to write a formal apology for his throat closing up?"

"I will let it slide this time!" Victoria hissed through gritted teeth. "Since he will be living under our roof from now on, you better pay close attention! I will not tolerate another incident like this!"

She expected me to actively cater to him in my own home?

I could hardly believe the words coming out of her mouth.

Just how utterly shameless could this woman become?

Before I could fire back, Tristan let out another dramatic, strangled groan from the back.

The last thread of Victoria's rationality snapped.

"We have to get to the ER right now!" She fired up the engine and looked at me frantically. "Get out of the car!"

I stood absolutely still, staring through the window. "You want me to walk back?"

We were in the middle of an exclusive, isolated suburban estate. Public transportation did not exist here, and catching a cab at this hour was virtually impossible.

Victoria punched the steering wheel in frustration. "The hospital is in the completely opposite direction of our house! I do not have the time to drop you off, Tristan's life is on the line! Figure it out yourself. Deal with it!"

With a screech of tires, she slammed on the gas, leaving me standing in a cloud of harsh exhaust fumes.

I stood entirely alone on the dark, empty road. A bitter night wind swept past, cutting through my clothes and chilling me to the bone.

She said it so casually.

Deal with it.

Yes. I had dealt with far too much over the past few years.

I pulled out my phone and dialed her personal chauffeur.

"Thomas, please come pick me up from the old estate."

Ten minutes later, the sleek black car pulled up.

Thomas looked surprised to see me standing alone. "Mr. Joey, where is the boss? I thought you were returning together."

I pulled open the door and slid in. "An urgent matter came up at the company. She had to leave early."

Inside, I was laughing bitterly. She was busy nursing her precious first love.

Not long after I got back to the silent house, my phone chimed with a notification.

I tapped the screen, and my pupils violently contracted.

In the photo, Victoria was fast asleep in a plush hotel bed, wearing a thick white bathrobe.

Her pale skin was littered with aggressive, unmistakable red hickeys, trailing from the base of her neck all the way down to her collarbone.

Beneath the photo was a highly provocative text:

"Joey, Victoria isn't coming home tonight. She said she can only truly relax when she is with me."

So, the dramatic peanut allergy emergency was nothing but a cheap excuse for them to get a hotel room.

Victoria. You really outdid yourself this time.

My face was a mask of absolute stone. I took screenshots of the photo and the message, bundled them together, and emailed them directly to my lawyer.

Then, I forwarded the same screenshots to Victoria with a single line of text:

[I guess giving him the house wasn't enough. You had to hand over your body too, right?]

Within twenty minutes of sending the message, Victoria burst through the front door, looking panicked and slightly breathless. A guilty, caught-in-the-act expression was plastered across her face.

"Joey, listen to me, it is not what you think. Tristan and I..."

"Shut up," I cut her off with ice in my voice, refusing to listen to her exhausted, pathetic lies.

She tried to step forward and grab my hand. "Come on, stop throwing a tantrum. Nothing happened between us."

I violently slapped her hand away in pure disgust. I turned around, walked into the study, and grabbed a massive, thick stack of old debt collection notices.

"Victoria, look at these!"

I pointed at the mountain of yellowing bills, my voice violently trembling with suppressed rage.

"Do you remember these? When your family went bankrupt, I was the one who moved into that pitch black basement with you. I was the one who starved with you, eating one meal a day!"

"To help you clear tens of millions in debt, I emptied my entire life savings. I slaved away in a cubicle all day and drove cabs all night!"

"When you got blackout drunk and collapsed on the sidewalk, I was the one who carried you home on your back. When your wealthy former friends humiliated you in public, I was the one who stood in front of you and fought them off! Where the hell was your precious Tristan back then?!"

"And look at you now. You climbed out of the gutter. You are the untouchable CEO again. You get your precious first love back in your arms, and suddenly I am just an obstacle in your way?"

By the end, I was practically screaming. I took the heavy stack of bills and viciously hurled them directly into her face. The papers exploded into the air, raining down around us.

"How exactly are you going to pay me back for this?!"