I Owed the King of Hell 100 Million, and My Bestie Paid It Of

It didn't take long before security guards rushed over, pinning Amelia to the floor and trying to drag her out of the building.

Her hands clung desperately to the pillar, fingernails scraping against the surface and leaving long white scratches.

I hovered anxiously nearby, pacing in circles—but there was nothing I could do.

No one could see me, no one could hear me. No one except Amelia.

Just then, the elevator chimed.

Janine walked out with a man beside her, chatting and laughing intimately.

Amelia froze for a second, then suddenly shouted, "Denver!"

The moment Denver saw her, disgust flickered across his face.

"What are you doing here?"

Amelia broke free from the guard, yanked a folder from her bag, and held it out to him.

"You've always wanted a divorce, haven't you? Fine. I agree."

The receptionist and the guards exchanged glances—then looked at Denver, then at Amelia, and finally at Janine. The look on their faces was... priceless.

Denver's lips tightened into a thin, hard line. Suppressing his anger, he said coldly, "Go upstairs. We'll talk there."

As soon as the office door closed, he flung the divorce agreement at Amelia's face.

"Amelia, must you humiliate Janine like this?"

Janine quickly stepped forward, clutching Denver's arm with teary eyes.

"Denver, please don't blame my sister. She's your real wife. It's all my fault. I'll leave right now."

She picked up her bag and turned dramatically toward the door, wiping at her eyes as though she were the victim of some great tragedy.

Denver pulled her back into his arms, his voice soft and indulgent.

"Janine, you're pregnant now. Don't cry. Be good and stay here—I'll protect you."

Amelia just stood there, staring blankly at the scene before her. It was as if her heart had simply stopped working.

Then, as her gaze met mine, something flickered behind her empty eyes.

She knelt, picked up the scattered divorce papers, and placed them gently on Denver's desk.

Her voice was calm—painfully calm.

"Denver, I know it's always been Janine you love. Now that she's pregnant, you should give her the title she deserves."

A flicker of triumph flashed in Janine's eyes—but it quickly twisted into jealousy and spite.

Denver's expression hardened.

"Amelia, are you proud of yourself? You know the Fletcher family would never accept a disabled daughter-in-law, so you schemed against Janine, made her fall, and now you're pretending to be noble to win my sympathy? Do you think I can't see through you?"

I froze.

So he really did love Janine, but married Amelia only because Janine got injured and limped afterward.

"Oh, so the scheming bitch ruined her own life? Talk about karma!"

I floated around Janine's head, making faces at her even though she couldn't see me.

At least, Amelia laughed through her tears.

That single smile seemed to ignite Denver's fury all over again.

"Amelia, so what if you have the title of Mrs. Fletcher? Only Janine can give birth to the Fletcher family's heir. You'll never have anything!"

With that, he called security and had her "escorted" out.

A while later, Amelia sat down on the curb outside the company, staring blankly ahead. Her eyes were red but empty.

"Sherry," she whispered, "I'm sorry. I probably can't help you repay that one hundred million."

Her voice cracked. "I'm useless. I couldn't save you six years ago... and I can't save you now."

Her tears fell, heavy and silent, splashing onto her hands.

I reached out instinctively to wipe them away, but my hand passed straight through. Still, I stubbornly tried again and again.

"Amelia," I said softly, "whether you can help me or not doesn't matter. I just want you to be brave—like you were six years ago."

She looked up at me, her dazed expression slowly clearing. A hint of determination flickered in her eyes.