Julian stared at him: "What?"

The man smiled: "Debt-for-equity swap."

Julian clenched his fists tight. This was pushing him into a dead end.

The moment he signed, he would lose everything, and the company would fall into their hands, ready to be directly acquired at any time.

The foreigner smiled: "Mr. Yan, you have no choice."

Julian closed his eyes, enduring with all his might.

After three days and three nights of careful deliberation, he went to Los Angeles and tracked down Flora.

Flora looked coldly at the man before her: "Why do you think I would help you?"

Julian let out a breath:

"Flora, if—and I mean if—before I go completely bankrupt, I were to file a case in court alleging that you tricked me into signing the property division agreement without my knowledge, do you think the court would help me recover those assets?"

Flora stared at him, her eyes narrowing dangerously.

He gave a bitter laugh:

"Of course, I wouldn't do that. But if one day I really reached the end of my rope, I don't know if I would be capable of doing something even I would look down upon."

Flora stared coldly at him, closed her eyes, and spoke only after a long silence:

"I can help you, but how do you guarantee my money won't go down the drain?"

Julian fixed his eyes on hers: "Equity. I will pledge sixty percent of my equity to you."

Flora fell silent.

A long time passed before she smiled: "Fine."

The equity pledge agreement was signed; the financing amount was three hundred million.

Julian exhaled, a sense of relief washing over him as he smiled at her:

"Flora, from now on, we are partners with shared interests."

"See, no matter what happens, we were always meant to be together in the end."

Flora examined the agreement in her hand and let out a cold laugh.

The next moment, the venture capital team swarmed into the conference room.

Julian’s expression changed: "What are you all doing here?"

The blonde-haired, blue-eyed foreigner leading the group bowed to Flora: "Boss."

Julian’s complexion changed, bit by bit.

He whipped his head around, staring at Flora in disbelief: "The venture capital firm is yours?!"

Flora looked at him coldly: "Yes."

His mind went blank: "From the very beginning, this was a trap you set for me."

"Yes." Flora stood up, looking down at him from her height. "Julian, there is something I never told you."

"I want your life."

"From the moment you killed my child, I decided that it would be you or me, until the end."

She flashed a satisfied smile at Julian: "Julian, you are finished."

22

Julian’s face was deathly pale as he walked out of the conference room with stiff legs.

It was over. Everything was over.

When had she started planning this?

Was it when the Xu Group first reached into Hong Kong, or when she wrote out that divorce agreement?

By the time Julian regained his senses, he had already walked back to the villa.

He surveyed this gorgeously decorated place, which had once held ten years of memories for him and Flora.

—Soon, this wouldn't belong to him either.

Would Flora keep it? Or would she sell it?

He didn't know.

Under the pincer attack of the equity pledge and the valuation adjustment agreement, he could almost foresee that Flora would definitely let the public opinion fester and force a liquidation.

And all his assets would be liquidated to pay off debts, potentially leaving him saddled with massive arrears.

The housekeeper, still unaware of the situation, stepped forward to report:

"Mr. Yan, Meng Xia has been in the cold storage for a day and a night. The child has been aborted completely. Should we let her go, or..." He gestured with his hand, "...dispose of her?"

"Let her go." Julian closed his eyes; he no longer had the capacity to hold another human life in his hands.

Julian turned his head with dull, vacant eyes:

"Uncle Wang, you should leave too. This villa won't be mine much longer."

The housekeeper looked up abruptly, his face shocked.

Realizing that he wasn't joking, his expression turned grief-stricken.

...

On the day of the bankruptcy, Julian, saddled with massive debt, was driven out of the villa, homeless.

He used every cent he had to buy a train ticket to Los Angeles, standing downstairs under Flora’s building for a day and a night, letting the heavy rain drench his body.

Finally, Flora walked out.

Her bodyguards blocked his path, watching him vigilantly.

"Julian, what else do you want?"

Julian gave a bitter laugh: "Actually, you don't need to be so defensive. I won't hurt you, Flora."

Flora’s eyes showed nothing but mockery: "Julian, of all the people I’ve met, you’ve hurt me the deepest."

Julian gave a bitter laugh, his eyes turning red. He said: "Flora, can you let me hold you one more time?"

He stepped forward, and a bodyguard kicked him hard in the stomach.

He fell to his knees, crawling on the ground.

Yet, Julian didn't give up. Gritting his teeth, he let out a muffled groan and struggled back to his feet.

Flora’s brows furrowed, and she snapped: "Julian!"

He lunged forward, hugging her tightly, his voice rasping against her ear:

"Flora, I regret it so much. I regret it so much."

"I used to be a bastard. A sincere heart was placed in front of me, and I trampled on it just because I could. Only when it was truly lost did I realize how precious it was."

"I’m sorry, Flora. I don't hate you."

He released her, gazing into her eyes, smiling through his tears:

"You were right. Ending up like this today—I deserve it."

He stroked her hair, smiling with a tenderness he had never shown before.

"Flora, forget me."

He turned and strode away.

Flora opened her mouth, and the scar on her heart, long since healed, began to burn with intense pain.

The love she had once craved most from him was now meaningless under the weight of such monstrous hatred and separation.

She would never, ever forgive him.

23

Three months later, Julian had fallen so far that he was working at a bar to pay off his debts.

He carried a tray of drinks into a VIP booth, where sitting inside was his former business rival, Mr. Zheng.

Julian lowered his head to open the bottles, hiding his face in the shadows.

The man narrowed his eyes and leaned in: "Huh? Isn't this Mr. Yan? How did you end up waiting tables yourself?"

Julian wasn't good at fawning, so he stayed silent.

The man propped his feet up on the coffee table and sighed:

"Mr. Yan is in trouble. We were all in the same business circles back in the day; we crossed paths all the time, so we should help each other out when we can."

"How about this." He slapped a stack of crisp banknotes onto the coffee table. "Mr. Yan grew up in a silver spoon, so perhaps a few million isn't even worth a toast with you, but today, let’s give everyone a chance to be the first. One hundred dollars for one drink—how’s that?"

He smiled gloatingly: "As long as you drink it, the money is yours."

Someone nearby chimed in, slinging an arm around Julian’s shoulder: "You’re making it hard for him, aren't you? What kind of man is Mr. Yan? Would he care about your measly few hundred bucks?"

The circle of people laughed and jeered, singing in chorus as they eyed him with slanted glances, the air thick with invisible humiliation.

Julian furrowed his brows and took a step back, maintaining his composure: "No need to say more. I’ll drink."

He picked up the glass, tilted his head back, and downed it in one gulp.

By the time he was finished, he was clutching a thick stack of money—five thousand dollars—kneeling in the restroom, vomiting until he felt he would lose his soul.

Julian leaned against the toilet, his face flushed red, and suddenly burst into laughter at the wall in front of him.

Once, he would never have looked twice at such money, but today, for this pittance, he had abandoned his self-respect and groveled before those people.

He stood up unsteadily, stuffed the money into his pocket, changed his clothes, and headed home.

As he rounded a small alleyway, just steps away from his rented room, a woman suddenly lunged out, driving a knife deep into his abdomen.

It was Summer.

She had gone mad, her eyes blood-red: "Julian, it’s all your fault! It’s all your fault! You were the one who locked me in the basement, who sent me to the cold storage! I miscarried, my uterus was damaged, and I’ll never have the chance to be a mother again!"

"My reputation is ruined. Wherever I go, people point fingers at me. I have nothing left; I can’t find a job, I’m drowning in online debt! Even my parents have disowned me!"