Memories have dried up my true feelings

The moment my words fell, the air in the entire lounge froze.

“Roger, have you completely lost your mind?” Albert was the first to react. He stepped in front of Betty, his handsome face twisted with rage. “What gives you the right to say that? You’re nothing but a worthless piece of trash kicked out of Roger's Group. You’re only here today because of Betty—and you dare insult Betty’s Family Group?”

Betty’s face went deathly pale. She stared at me, eyes wide with disbelief, already rimmed with red. “Roger, how could you say that? Have you forgotten everything I’ve done for you? For you, I endured the pressure to cancel the marriage alliance with Stellar Group. I chose you—a man with nothing!”

“With nothing?” I laughed, the sound tearing from my chest. “Betty, search your conscience. Ask yourself: back then, did you really choose me because I had ‘nothing’—or because I bear the surname ‘Roger,’ the rightful second son of Roger’s Group?”

Her lips trembled. No words came.

Yes. Even cast out, my father Brian is a man who values face above all. As long as I remained his son, Betty’s Family Group could leverage my name to secure countless advantages in Riverbend’s business circles. That calculation—the shrewd members of the Betty family understood it better than anyone.

“Enough!” Rebecca shrieked. “Roger, don’t be ungrateful! Betty choosing you was your good fortune! Apologize to Albert right now, then go up on stage and smooth things over! Otherwise, Betty’s Family Group will make you pay!”

Apologize?

I looked at Albert’s hypocritical face, at the glaring boutonniere pinned to his lapel. A fury suppressed for over three years, mixed with endless humiliation, surged straight to the crown of my head.

I didn’t speak. I simply turned, pulled a pair of eyebrow scissors from the tool jar on the nearby vanity.

The sharp metal tip gleamed coldly under the lights.

“What are you doing?” Albert’s face changed. He took an instinctive step back.

I walked toward him, step by step, my eyes cold enough to devour a man.

“You like to make bets, don’t you?” I stared into his eyes, my voice hoarse. “I’ll make one more with you. I bet I have the guts to cripple you today.”

Fear finally crept onto his perpetually calm face.

“Madman! You’re a madman!” he blustered, turning to flee.

He was fast—but I was faster.

The moment he turned, I lunged, pinning him hard against the vanity. Without hesitation, I drove the scissors toward his arm.

“Ah!”

Albert’s piercing scream ripped through the room. Blood instantly bloomed across his expensive white shirt.

Betty and Rebecca shrieked, their cries nearly lifting the roof.

I seemed oblivious to everything. My mind held only one thought: destroy him. Destroy this pair of snakes.

In the end, security guards rushed in and subdued me.

The scissors clattered to the floor. With that sound, my sanity returned.

Looking at the wreckage, at Albert’s mangled, bloody arm, I felt a wave of dizziness.

The police arrived quickly.

I was taken away in a patrol car, charged with intentional assault.

In the interrogation room, I sat alone for a long time.

The cold metal chair gradually cooled my anger-heated mind. I thought of my mother.

She had jumped from the rooftop of the Roger family villa on a rainy night.

Everyone said it was depression. Only I knew it was despair.

Despair at my father’s indifference. Despair at that woman’s relentless pressure.

After my mother’s death, I became an extra person in the Roger household.

My father soon married that woman. My older brother Michael saw me as a thorn in his side.

Then Betty entered my world like a beam of light.

She said she would stay with me forever.

I believed her. I made her the sole pillar keeping me alive.

For her, I gave up my inheritance rights to Roger’s Group, left with nothing but the clothes on my back, and started from scratch.

I thought I had found a harbor where I could finally dock. I never imagined it was a deeper abyss.

The interrogation room door opened.

It wasn’t a police officer. It was Betty.

Her eyes were red, tear tracks still visible on her cheeks—a picture of pitiful fragility.

“Roger,” she walked up to me, her voice choked. “You severed tendons in Albert’s arm. The doctor says it might affect his ability to do delicate work in the future. He… he’s a world-class chip designer.”

I looked at her. Silent.

“I know you were wronged today,” she softened, reaching for my hand, cuffed to the table. “But you were too impulsive. Only you can save him now. Only you can save yourself.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Albert said if you’re willing to go to the hospital, kneel and apologize to him publicly, and swear—swear on your mother’s soul in heaven—that you’ll never trouble us again, then he’ll sign a letter of understanding. He won’t press charges.”

Swear on my mother’s soul in heaven.

*Boom.* The last thread in my mind named reason snapped completely.

I stood up violently. The handcuffs slammed against the table with a deafening crash.

Betty took an involuntary step back, startled by my stare.

“Betty,” I said, word by word, my voice squeezed from between clenched teeth. “Say that again.”

My expression frightened her. Her lips trembled, but she forced herself to continue. “This… this is Albert’s demand! You hurt someone, you have to pay the price! What’s wrong with an apology? Your mother’s been dead for years. What does mentioning her matter?”

What does mentioning her matter?

Looking at this face that once enchanted me—that I was once willing to die for—I felt a bone-deep nausea for the first time.

I laughed. I laughed until tears streamed down my face.

“Fine. ‘What does mentioning her matter?’ What a line.” I nodded, stripping away all expression, leaving only numb calm. “Tell Albert I accept his terms.”