A Heart Given Wrong

Married in secret for five years, Yvonne Singer always thought I was just a washed-up nobody from a fallen family. What she didn't know was that I was the sole successor to Guzman Group, the world's largest venture capital firm.

She tricked me into attending a cocktail party for the sake of her male best friend, Francis Yorke, and forced me to toast my sworn rival.

Furious, I shattered the wineglass in my hand and snapped, "Yvonne, don't push me! Believe it or not, with a single word from me, your company can disappear from the stock market by tomorrow!"

Panic flickered in her eyes. The next second, she threw herself into my arms. "Honey, I just needed your help. I didn't mean to hurt you." She then personally fed me a hangover pill and gently escorted me to a private room.

When I woke up, I was hanging upside down from a drop tower. Francis slammed the switch. I was sent flying dozens of feet into the air, then plummeting straight down into the water.

As my consciousness began to waver, I forced myself to make an emergency call. "Mr. Chance, contact global media outlets. Before nightfall, I want headlines showing them begging on the streets!"

The moment I hung up, icy pool water swallowed me whole again.

Francis covered his mouth, laughing so hard he almost fell over. Beside him, Yvonne wore a smug smile on her face.

"Yvonne, did you hear that? William says he's going to make you beg on the streets. Who does he think he is?"

My sworn enemy, Zoey Malcom, chimed in with a mocking laugh. She pointed at me and asked, "Yvonne, is your husband's brain damaged or something? Calling global media outlets? Does he think he's the UN Secretary-General?"

The surrounding guests erupted into grating laughter. They looked at me as if looking at a clown making a fool of himself.

Yvonne's expression darkened. She felt I had humiliated her in public. Turning to Francis, she said coldly, "Fran, help him sober up. He's talking nonsense."

"Got it, Yvonne!"

Francis excitedly slammed his palm down on the red button at the control panel. The drop tower's seat jolted violently, hurling me back into the air at a terrifying speed.

The weightlessness made my stomach churn. The alcohol from the party mixed with the hangover pill I took, making me feel nauseous. I screamed, but my voice was drowned out by the wind.

Then, the seat dove downward even faster, crashing violently into the pool. Water exploded everywhere. The sharp scent of clorine filled my nose as the water engulfed me, making me cough violently.

I was strapped tightly to the seat and couldn't move. All I could do was watch as I was repeatedly flung upward and slammed down. Every ascent and plunge was suffocating torture.

I stared at Yvonne on the shore. She was the woman I had loved for five years.

Five years ago, my family's business faced a major crisis. To protect me, my father announced publicly that our family had fallen and sent me abroad. That was where I met Yvonne, back when she was still a poor student.

I hid my identity from her, eating the cheapest meals with her, living in a rundown apartment, and supporting her as she started her business. I thought what we had was true love built through hardship.

When she returned home to build her company, I followed, willingly standing behind her. To keep her from feeling pressured, I never mentioned my background. I rarely even called my parents.

She once held me and said, "Will, once my company goes public, I'll give you the grandest wedding in the world. I'll make you the happiest man alive."

The promise still echoed in my ears. But now, she was personally dragging me into hell.

On shore, Francis took out his phone and filmed me relentlessly. "Everyone, look! A drowning rat! This angle makes him look so ugly! Yvonne, look at William's face! This is hilarious!"

Yvonne didn't stop him. Instead, she handed Zoey a bottle of champagne, smiling ingratiatingly. "Ms. Malcolm, are you satisfied with this show? As long as it makes you happy, I'll make my husband do anything."

Zoey swirled her glass, her gaze sweeping over my soaked body with disdain. "Not bad. You know how to have fun. Yvonne, if you can make your husband kneel and beg me today, I'll have my father consider investing in your project."

Yvonne's eyes lit up immediately. "No problem! Just watch, Ms. Malcolm!"

She turned toward me, struggling in the water, and shouted coldly, "William Guzman! Did you hear that? Hurry up and beg Ms. Malcolm! Kneel down before her!"

The icy water and piercing wind were nothing compared to the coldness I felt at her words.

Looking at her, I suddenly smiled. "Yvonne Singer, you're going to regret this. I guarantee that you're going to pay for this. And your punishment will be far worse than death!"