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I Was Never a Worthless Man Novel Cover

I Was Never a Worthless Man

After five years of devotion, the protagonist of I Was Never a Worthless Man finally receives a proposal acceptance from Winona Shaw. However, his joy turns to ash when she embraces Claude Landton at their engagement party and attempts to frame him for a crime. Refusing to be a victim, he cancels the celebration and involves the police. As Winona rages and Claude panics, he prepares for a fierce legal battle, determined to see justice served in a court of law.
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Chapter 2

Accusation

I lost sleep that night, tormented by exasperation and discontent. I stood in the empty manor, alone with nothing but smoke and cigarettes that provided little comfort.

Eventually, the light of dawn cut through the horizon, and I snapped out of my trance. Morning had come. I went to work and heaved a long, slow sigh. I had to shove away my frustrations.

The moment I sat down, my secretary told me Claude wanted to see me earlier, but he didn't say why. I answered coldly, "Ignore him. I have nothing to do, and I want nothing to do with him."

And then Winona came storming into my office looking all dark. She shot me with an icy look, her eyes filled with frigid fury. "You're going to push him down for revenge, Nathaniel? Just because he said the truth? How petty can you be? I can't believe you went after him right away."

I was stunned. I had no idea what she was saying, but I tried to calm myself and ask her what she was talking about.

That frustrated her more. "Don't play dumb, Nathaniel! Claude just told me his project got canceled! Your subsidiary took over! You're going to get him fired!"

I quickly went through all my business decisions lately, but none of them had anything to do with Claude. I didn't remember any of my subsidiaries' projects being related to him either.

With doubts creeping into my mind, I said, "I did not do anything to him. Even if someone took his project, it's just fair competition."

Winona slapped me. I froze.

She glared at me with rage and roared, "You're lying! If it was fair competition, why didn't you see Claude when he asked you to? Unbelievable! You'd even go after your own friend, Nathaniel? What did I ever see in you?"

My chest started to twist, and I looked at Winona in disbelief. Five years I spent dating her, and I never spoke a single lie. Everything I said to her came from the depths of my heart.

Why? Because I thought a relationship was based on trust. Trust from both sides. That was the foundation. And yet, and yet she believed Claude's accusations before she even talked with me.

I clenched my teeth and coolly answered, "Friend? Claude is no friend of mine. Whose side are you on? No, wait, do you even remember that you're my fiance?"

Winona fell into silence and turned her head away. I took a deep breath.

"I did not go after Claude. You can check if you don't believe me."

She turned her gaze back on me, but there was an accusatory look in it. "When you can push all the blame onto the company and keep your hands clean? An investigation is pointless. You'd even scheme and plot against people on your side. Don't you feel any guilt?"

Okay, I was running out of patience. "And why should I? I worked hard just to make sure you can have the best the world has to offer, but you'd take an outsider's side and interrogate me like I'm some sort of criminal!"

The look in her eyes went colder than anything I'd ever seen. I probably struck a nerve. She was fierce.

"Claude is my… He's not an outsider!"

I smiled dryly. "And what am I?"

No answer. Winona gave me a scathing look and stormed off. I slumped into my seat, my heart filled with fury and sorrow. It was… complicated.

We'd been dating for five years, and marriage was on the horizon, yet Winona would throw away all that foundation, all that trust, all just for Claude.

My fists balled up, and veins throbbed on the back of my hands. Very well, then. We'd come to the end of the line.

I did not need a relationship like this. If you could even call it a relationship to begin with.

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