After the Betrayal, I Decisively Left the Small World

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Twelve years ago, I met Daniel Grant.

I was an outstanding employee at the Crossgate Agency, and this was my final mission. As long as I succeeded in capturing Daniel Grant's heart, I could earn the reward points needed for a chance to return home.

I gave it my all, striving to heal the wounded Daniel Grant who had lost his parents and was bullied, standing by him as he grew and assisted him in climbing the ranks.

You could say that his current company, his glory, his achievements, all owe much to my contributions.

After nine years of exhausting my mind and energy, I transformed Daniel Grant from a helpless little pity into the president of a company that controls an economic lifeline.

I could have left with achievements fulfilled, yet I was trapped in the sweet illusion Daniel Grant gave me.

I fell in love with him.

I accepted his marriage proposal—using all my points to redeem the opportunity to stay.

For three years, Daniel Grant fulfilled his promise.

Everyone knew how much Mr. Grant loved his wife, cradling me in his palms and caring for me with utmost tenderness.

And I thought the same.

Until I saw this message on Daniel Grant's phone.

[I am willing to live for you, and also willing to die for you. Stop pushing me away. You know, without you, I would die.]

[Okay.]

He said, okay.

It was as though I was possessed, madly searching for clues in secret.

Who is she?

What is their relationship?

How far have they progressed?

I never doubted Daniel Grant, much less investigated him, but now, my dreams have collapsed, forcing my hand.

The evidence in my hand shattered my already fragile heart once again.

Olivia Lowder, Daniel Grant's assistant.

On social media, she posted blurry photos and ambiguous captions. Others might not know, but I could tell at a glance that the person beside her was Daniel Grant.

He celebrated her birthday with her.

Valentine's Day, the Qixi Festival.

They went to amusement parks together.

Visited night markets together…

When Daniel Grant was young, he developed a serious stomach ailment. I had always been careful about his diet, but I never learned to cook, so I had to hire professional housekeepers and chefs to take care of his meals.

Three meals a day, with balanced nutrition, were bland but beneficial for his health.

Olivia Lowder liked to make video vlogs.

In the videos, there was always a male protagonist who never appeared on camera.

She took him to food stalls, cheerfully asking, "How is it? Is it good? It must be your first time eating this, right?"

A low but gentle male voice came from the video.

Straightforward and concise.

"Mm, it's delicious."

Delicious.

The family's descendant of imperial chefs only ever received a mere "not bad."

And the porridge cooked by Olivia Lowder herself, she presented it like treasure, "Try it, this is my first time cooking for someone!"

"If you like it, I'll cook for you every day!"

It seemed that person took a couple of bites, speaking softly and indulgently, "No need to trouble yourself, leave it to the chef in the future."

I checked the video's date.

Three months ago.

During that time, Daniel Grant, who never liked porridge, often asked Uncle Reed to prepare porridge to take to the company.

As I watched, my eyes welled up, and my body began to tremble uncontrollably.

Sorrow engulfed me.

The future.

Daniel Grant talked about the future with her.

What about my future?

Just yesterday, the information the private detective I hired uncovered completely broke me.

Olivia Lowder was pregnant.

Daniel Grant accompanied her for a prenatal check-up.

In the photos the detective gave me, standing outside the hospital, Daniel Grant's gaze was gentle, focused on Olivia Lowder's belly.

On the eve of my birthday.

The husband I loved had died.