Wealth, Cheating, and Prison

Cameron slapped my phone out of my hand. "Enough, Nina! What’s up with the sarcasm?"

The phone hit the carpet with a dull thud.

Wendy suddenly laughed. She peeked out from Cameron's embrace, her gaze turning contemptuous. "Nina, actually, you shouldn't blame Cameron. Men always like something new. Your figure, and those outdated design drawings of yours—Cameron got tired of them long ago. My art exhibition can bring customer traffic to the company. What can you bring? All you know how to do is reach out for money to save your damned father, right?"

Boom—

A string in my mind snapped.

I absolutely could not tolerate such provocation.

I stood up and picked up a cup of hot coffee.

"Stop—" Cameron realized something was wrong and tried to intervene.

Splash!

An entire cup of hot coffee was already splashed accurately over both of them.

Wendy screamed and jumped up, instantly turning into a drenched mess, with coffee all over her.

Cameron's shirt was soaked as well, leaving him utterly disheveled.

"Nina, are you out of your mind?" Cameron raised his hand to strike me.

I grabbed his wrist.

I stared into his eyes, my voice cold. "Cameron, that was for my father. You were right—I shouldn't have been small-minded. From now on, I'll let you know what a truly 'big picture' looks like."

I flung his hand aside and pointed at the door. "Now, take your trash and get out of my house."

"Your house?" Cameron laughed angrily. "This house is in my name too!"

"Is it?" I took a photocopy out of my bag and threw it in his face. "The down payment for this house was my premarital property, and every mortgage payment came from my salary account. Under the new law, I hold a 70% share of this house. If anyone's leaving, it's you."

Cameron picked up the paper from the floor, his expression changing.

He hadn't expected that the wife who only buried herself in drawing plans and supposedly had no concept of money had kept a trump card.

"Fine!" Cameron gritted his teeth, stripped off the jacket still dripping with coffee, and hurled it to the ground.

"Nina, you'll regret this. Without the Lister Group, you're nothing. I'd like to see who would still use you once you’ve left me!"

He dragged Wendy—who was still screaming—toward the door.

At the doorway, he stopped, turned back, and said in a sinister voice, "Oh, by the way, the liquidated damages for the Summit Project are 600 thousand dollars. If the drawings aren't delivered by tomorrow, be ready to sell your father to pay it back."

The door slammed shut.

I slowly sat back down in the chair and picked up my phone.

The screen was cracked, but it still worked.

I dialed James's number. "James, help me send out a lawyer's letter..."

Then I contacted the real client behind the Summit Project.

Cameron had thought I was his prey.

Little did he know that I was one step ahead of him.

The Summit Project was a "floating ecology" structure whose core patents I had already registered three years earlier.

He wanted to use my patents to scam money and ruin lives, but I wasn't about to let him off so easily.