The Ruthless Groom and His Prey

The late autumn sea breeze carried a salty chill, like countless needles scraping my cheeks, making me instinctively shrink my neck. My fingers gripping the phone turned white; the screen showed an unread debt collection message from my father. Each word burned like a heated iron brand: "Gwendolyn, your mother has fainted twice already. The hospital is pressing for payment again; you need to find a solution." After the thunderous collapse of the Xavier Family, former friends and relatives all avoided us like the plague. Our only hope was Willy Stephenson, to whom I was engaged. Tonight was his twenty-fifth birthday yacht party. I rummaged through my wardrobe to find the champagne-colored dress he had once praised. After ironing it smooth, I hurried over, only to find him holding my best friend Yolanda Martel closely in a brightly lit corner of the deck. Yolanda spotted me and deliberately snuggled closer to Willy Stephenson, her eyes flashing an unashamed challenge. Willy Stephenson casually lifted his eyes and swept me with a look of disdain, as if I were trash: "The Xavier Family has already collapsed like this, who are you still trying to cling to?" "Our engagement is still valid..." My voice felt frozen by the sea wind, trembling uncontrollably. "The engagement was voided long ago!" Willy Stephenson suddenly pushed Yolanda Martel aside, stepped forward to corner me, a cruel sneer tugging at the corner of his mouth. "But your face still has some charm. If you're willing to behave and be my mistress, maybe I'll still let you eat." My father's crisis, my lover's humiliation, and my best friend's betrayal—these three heavy burdens instantly shattered my already fragile nerves. But I bit my lip hard, holding back the tears—I couldn't afford to cry now. "Willy, you don't deserve this." I straightened my back, enunciated each word firmly, then turned and resolutely stepped off the yacht. In the cold sea breeze, I dialed the number I had only heard of in business reports—Willy Stephenson's uncle, Miguel Stephenson. Miguel Stephenson was a legend in the business world, having built his empire from scratch. He and Willy Stephenson's father had long-standing tensions over family inheritance. Everyone knows he has always coveted the Stephenson Family's overseas patent that monopolizes the market. The moment the call connected, I took a deep breath and said, "Mr. Stephenson, I'm Gwendolyn Xavier, and I can help you acquire the Stephenson Family's overseas patent." I got straight to the point, speaking quickly, "I will help you obtain the core data, and once the deal is done, I want seventy percent of the profits." After a brief silence on the other end, Miguel Stephenson's deep, magnetic voice came through, tinged with amusement: "Interesting. Tomorrow at 3 p.m., come to my company's top-floor CEO office." The next afternoon, I arrived promptly at Miguel Stephenson's company. The CEO's office was decorated in a minimalist yet luxurious style, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the bustling city. He sat behind the large desk and casually pulled a three-million check from the drawer, lightly tossing it in front of me. "Take this money, leave this city, and never come back." I bent down to pick up the check, and without even looking at it, tore it into pieces on the spot. As the paper fragments fluttered down, I met his unfathomable gaze. "Mr. Stephenson, you're mistaken. It's not the money I want—it's the identity of Willy Stephenson's aunt. I want to marry you." Miguel Stephenson tapped his fingers on the desk, staring at me for a full half minute, then suddenly let out a low laugh, a hint of admiration in his voice: "Bold enough, I like that. Alright, I agree to cooperate." The moment I stepped out of the CEO's office, the sunlight stabbed painfully into my eyes. I knew that once I set foot on this path, there would be no turning back.