
Not Marrying the One I Love
Chapter 3
There was no other reason. I just wanted to know if Celia would still make me apologize to Shane without the support of my family's financial chain.
I did not directly try to clarify things online; instead, I spent money to remove it from the trending list. I did this to more intuitively see whether there was anyone guiding public opinion behind the scenes.
One night passed, and it was still trending. This time, I knew that someone was trying to mess with me. The remaining matters would be much smoother to solve once the goal was set.
Just then, Shane's messages started coming in. They were photos of him and Celia, taken during the seven days I was out travelling, as well as his text message.
Shane: [Zane, do you really think Celia loves you? I'm the only one she loves.]
Among dozens of photos, there was one that particularly stung. It was a photo of Celia and Shane embracing each other under the setting sun on the mountain top.
My heart ached in waves.
Celia once told me that she disliked outdoor sports, but she was willing to climb the highest mountain in the city together with Shane.
Although these photos did upset me for a moment, I still thought Shane was stupid.
Public opinion online was originally aimed at me, but not anymore.
I did not mind using Shane as a shield, regardless of whether he actually did it. I sent the photos and screenshots Shane sent me to several paid marketing accounts. They completely reversed public opinion in just two hours.
Even though Shane had spent a fortune to make this topic trend online, it could not withstand the solid evidence he helpfully provided himself.
After doing all this, I was bombarded with messages from Shane. My phone was filled with countless vulgarities.
Even Celia called me countless times. Perhaps more than she had in three years. It was ironic.
I ignored them all, spending a few days at home calming myself down before driving to work.
Just as I parked my car at my workstation, someone suddenly rushed toward me from a distance.
I instinctively sensed danger and tried to get back into the car, but it was too late; she was fast.
A woman charged straight at me, holding a gleaming dagger.
A sharp pain shot through my abdomen, momentarily blurring my consciousness.
I seized the opportunity to grab the woman tightly. Even if it meant death, I would not let her escape justice.
In a daze, I heard the woman make a phone call. "Shane, don't worry, I've dealt with that wretch. No one will ever be able to hurt you again!"