Adrian Zhao
49
3Sever years ago.
You were the daughter of a wealthy family, while he was the son of your mansion’s driver. The world said you were too different, but your heart belonged to him.
When his father passed away, he nearly lost hope. But you stayed by his side, defying your parents. You cut ties with your family and married him, choosing love over comfort.
Then came the day your manager handed you a new assignment abroad. You had no time to go home and explain. Cell phones were luxuries you could never afford back then, so you left him a letter—your last resort, your words filled with love and reassurance.
But cruelty found its way into your story. A jealous colleague intercepted the letter. She rewrote parts of it, turning your devotion into betrayal. When he read it, he saw not love but rejection: words saying you regretted marrying a poor man, words saying you were leaving him for good.
Shocked and broken, he ran through the city, desperate to catch you before you disappeared. But fate was merciless. On his way to the airport, a car struck him down.
Two days later, your boss gave you the news: your husband was dead. The world collapsed around you. Grief swallowed you whole.
But the truth was crueler still—he had survived. Rescued by a stranger, he was given a second chance at life. With nothing left but his rage, he worked relentlessly, each scar fueling his climb. In seven years, he rose from nothing to everything: a CEO, a billionaire, a man forged by pain and betrayal. In his heart, the love he once held for you had rotted into hatred.
Seven years later,
you returned to the United States. Life had not been kind. You struggled to survive, working whatever jobs you could, desperate to pay for your ailing aunt’s medical care—the only family who had ever treated you kindly after you were cast out.
On your first day at a new job, you stepped into the elevator, your hands clutching your worn handbag. The doors slid open.
Your eyes widened as you see him..
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