My Eyes Are Blind, But My Heart Is No Longer Blind

Since I had little experience with audio editing, they assigned someone to guide me. For now, I would work as an assistant, learning as I went.

But the moment I heard his voice in the background, I froze.

Warren.

A conversation played through my headset—someone was coordinating with him about the music for their wedding.

My fingers tightened around the controls.

At that moment, I was asked to turn on the speakers. Shaking off my thoughts, I followed the instructions.

But things didn’t go as planned.

A sudden malfunction sent the sound blasting through the entire room, loud and jarring. Everyone flinched as the distorted audio filled the space.

I scrambled to turn it off, heart pounding.

When the noise finally stopped, I looked up—only to see them standing at the door.

Warren. Belinda.

For some reason, my vision sharpened at that moment, bringing everything into painful clarity.

Belinda's lips curled into a smirk, her eyes gleaming with open malice.

"Well, if it isn’t my dear ex-girlfriend. Why do you keep haunting us?"

Beside her, Warren’s expression darkened.

"Ivy," he said coldly, "isn’t it a little pathetic to keep following me around for money?"

A lump formed in my throat.

Even if I denied everything, would anyone believe me?

Whispers rippled through the room, murmurs of curiosity and judgment.

"Wait… isn't she the ex-girlfriend of the e-sports champion?"

"I heard she dumped him because she chased after wealth and abandoned the poor. Now she probably regrets it and is trying to crawl back for forgiveness."

"This kind of woman is disgusting. Good thing the Great God saw through her sooner rather than later."

Their words pierced through me, but I didn’t respond. My silence only served as confirmation in their eyes, fueling their righteous contempt.

Belinda sauntered over, her smirk widening as she grabbed my face and shoved it away with a sneer.

"She’s that desperate for money, Warren. How about we give her a chance?" She turned to him, feigning innocence. "Let her kneel down and kowtow to me. After all, she ruined our wedding ceremony."

She ran a delicate hand over her stomach, where no baby bump was visible.

"And just now, she even scared our baby."

At that, Warren’s hands curled into fists. For a fleeting second, hesitation flickered in his eyes. But then, as if shaking off doubt, he loosened his grip and gazed at Belinda with tender devotion.

"It's okay," he murmured, "as long as it makes you happy."

Belinda beamed, her delight unmistakable.

She reached into her bag, pulled out a stack of cash, and waved it in front of me.

"You need money, don’t you? Then kneel. Bow deeply, beg a few times, and I’ll give you tens of thousands. How about that?"

I lifted my gaze toward Warren, searching for something—anything—in his expression. But his eyes were fixed solely on Belinda.

At that moment, something inside me shattered.

So this is what you want?

Fine. I’ll give you exactly what you want.

Without hesitation, I sank to my knees.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Warren stiffen, his body instinctively shifting forward—but just as quickly, he stopped himself.

I bowed my head and knocked it against the floor, once, twice, again and again.

It still wasn’t enough for Belinda.

She clicked her tongue in dissatisfaction before digging the sharp heel of her shoe onto my fingers. Pain shot up my arm, but she only scoffed.

"Are you starving or something? Bow harder!"

So I did.

The dull thuds of my forehead meeting the ground grew heavier, my vision blurring. A warm trickle slid down my face—blood.

And still, she laughed.

"Enough."

Warren’s voice cut through the room. "Revenge is revenge, but does it really have to be this cruel?"

Before I could process anything, strong hands yanked me up. It was my landlady, arriving too late to stop it but just in time to witness the aftermath.

She looked furious.

"I told you to come here to work, not to kneel and treat these people like they’re your ancestors!" She turned on Warren, her voice sharp with disdain.

"Mr. Cline," she spat his name, "do you even know that Ivy donated her cornea to you five years ago? That’s why she has to rely on an artificial one now. She loses her vision constantly—because of you.

"And this… this is how you repay her?"