He Trashed His “Broke Nurse” Wife for ...

He Trashed His “Broke Nurse” Wife for His Childhood Sweetheart, Unaware She Was the Legendary Healer Eagle—and His Supreme Commander Uncle’s Only Hope

Part 1: The Shattered Vow

Three years ago, when Landon Barnett fell into a deep coma after a catastrophic car accident, I married into the Barnett family without a single moment of hesitation. I took care of him tirelessly, day after day, for two whole years. I bathed him, massaged his limbs so his muscles wouldn’t atrophy, and stayed up through freezing nights listening to the faint beep of his heart monitor. I did it all because he had once saved me from a desperate situation when I was a helpless orphan with nowhere to turn.

When he finally opened his dark eyes under my painstaking medical care, he reached out, took my bruised, trembling hand, and made a solemn vow. He swore he would marry me in a real ceremony, cherish me, and protect me for the rest of his life.

Believing every word, I abandoned my own brilliant medical career, sealed away my past, and devoted myself wholeheartedly to being his quiet, dutiful wife.

Today was our third wedding anniversary.

I walked up the grand marble staircase of our private villa, carrying a carefully wrapped gift I had spent weeks sourcing for him. My heart fluttered with childish anticipation. I thought about the surprise on his face when he opened it.

However, as I stepped onto the plush carpet of the second-floor hallway and approached our closed bedroom door, muffled sounds coming from inside made me freeze dead in my tracks.

Gasping, soft groans. A woman’s breathless laughter.

“Oh god… Landon…”

My mind went completely blank. Over our three years of marriage, Landon and I had never been intimate. He had told me, with tears of shame in his eyes shortly after waking up, that the car accident had left him with a severe medical condition—a physical form of impotence that made intimacy impossible. Out of deep love and empathy, I had never pushed him. I had spent countless nights sleeping quietly on my side of the bed, holding his hand, convincing myself that love was beyond physical desire.

I desperately tried to convince myself that the man inside couldn’t possibly be him. It had to be a mistake. A intruder. Anyone else.

“Claire, don’t be afraid. Just lean back…”

That voice. I knew it all too well. It was a rich, smooth baritone that used to whisper sweet promises into my ear every night.

Tears welled up in my eyes uncontrollably, burning like acid. I pressed my hand tightly over my mouth, suffocating the ragged, agonized sobs threatening to tear through my chest. The world around me felt as though it were spinning wildly out of orbit.

“Landon… today is your wedding anniversary with Kayn,” the woman’s voice drifted through the thin wood of the door, silky, coy, and laced with fake concern. “She’s probably waiting for you at the old family house like a fool. Isn’t it wrong for you to be here in bed with me instead of going back to her? What if she finds out?”

Every fiber of my body screamed at me to run. I instinctively turned to flee from that suffocating place, to preserve whatever little dignity I had left. But Landon’s next words struck me like thunderbolts, chaining my feet to the floor.

“What’s there to be afraid of, Claire?” Landon’s laugh was light, dismissive, and utterly cold. “I told you long ago, my heart only has room for you. As for Kayn… she’s nothing more than a placeholder.”

A placeholder.

The word echoed inside my skull, shattering my reality into a thousand jagged pieces. Three years of youth. Three years of devotion. Cooking every meal, taking the bitter verbal abuse of his snobbish mother, washing his clothes, giving up my own life… all of it was nothing more than a placeholder in his eyes. He had lied about his illness. He had lied about his love. He had lied about everything.

In that fleeting second, something deep inside my chest was violently, permanently torn apart. The fragile, gentle wife died, and the cold embers of my true self began to burn.

I didn’t knock. I raised my foot and slammed the bedroom door open.

BANG!

The door struck the wall with a deafening crash.

“Landon, what did I do wrong? Why did you deceive me?” My voice cut through the air, sharp and trembling, but filled with a sudden, lethal clarity.

Landon was so startled by my sudden appearance that he froze mid-motion, his eyes widening in pure horror. He hastily pulled the silk duvet up, grabbing his designer coat to cover himself and the naked woman lying beneath him. But as the initial shock wore off, his expression rapidly shifted. There was not a single trace of guilt or remorse on his face—only undisguised annoyance, disgust, and impatience.

“Why are you here?” Landon snapped, his voice sharp and condescending. “Didn’t I tell you to wait at the old house with Mom? Who allowed you to come to my private villa?”

My body swayed slightly, but I forced my feet to stay planted. I hadn’t expected him to be this callous. He wasn’t even going to pretend to care anymore.

I curled my lips into a bitter, self-mocking smile, though hot tears continued to spill over my eyelashes. “If I hadn’t come here today… how much longer were you planning to lie to me, Landon? How many more years was I supposed to live as your naive, foolish nurse while you played house with her?”

Landon fell completely silent, tightening his jaw. The woman beside him gently sat up, clutching the sheets to her bare shoulders, looking at me with wide, tear-filled, innocent eyes.

“Don’t blame Landon, Kayn…” she whispered, her voice trembling like a fragile flower in the wind. “It’s all my fault. He only did this because he was lonely. If you need to blame someone… blame me.”

I glanced at her face. The pale skin, the delicate nose, the carefully crafted vulnerability. I recognized her instantly. Claire Hewitt. Landon’s childhood sweetheart who had moved abroad right before his car accident.

“Since you’ve seen everything,” Landon interrupted coldly, stepping out of bed and slipping into his silk robe, “let’s be completely clear now. I want a divorce. The position of Mrs. Barnett should have been Claire’s all along. You were just taking her place while she was away.”

He met my gaze, expecting me to collapse, to beg, to fall on my knees as I had always done whenever he threatened to walk away. My heart ached sharply, a deep, phantom pain, but when I spoke, my voice came out surprisingly calm, like still water over deep ice.

“Fine. Divorce it is,” I said, looking him straight in the eyes. “But I want half of all marital assets. Not a single cent less.”

Landon and Claire exchanged a glance, absolute shock registering on both their faces.

“Half?” Landon scoffed, laughing incredulously. “You came into this family with nothing! You were a penniless orphan!”

“I spent three years building your life while you lay like a corpse in that bed,” I said, stepping closer, my posture regal and unyielding. “Remember, Landon, I’m not asking for your permission. I’m just informing you. If this goes to court, I’ll release the medical records and the pictures of you two in this bed. It won’t be my reputation that is ruined.”

Without sparing the cheating scumbag and his mistress another glance, I turned around and walked out into the cold afternoon air, leaving the past behind me.

Part 2: The Eagle Awakes

Outside the villa, the biting winter wind whipped against my face, drying the bitter tears on my cheeks. I pulled my thin coat tighter around my shoulders, feeling a strange, liberating sensation washing over me. The cage door had been opened.

I took out my phone. My fingers hovered over the screen for a moment before I dialed a number I hadn’t called in three long years.

The line rang once, twice.

“Hello?” a deep, crisp male voice answered instantly.

“It’s me,” I said quietly, staring up at the grey sky. “I’m outside Landon’s private villa. Can you come pick me up?”

There was a sudden, violent crash on the other end, followed by the sound of papers scattering and a chair flipping over. “Kayn?! Is that really you? You… you finally called me! Sure thing! No problem! Stay right there, don’t move an inch! I’m coming!”

Barely ten minutes later, the quiet suburban street reverberated with the roar of powerful engines. A fleet of five black, luxury custom vehicles tore around the corner, speeding toward the villa. The lead car, a multi-million-dollar sports sedan, slammed its brakes and skidded to an elegant stop right in front of me.

The door flew open, and a handsome young man in an immaculate, bespoke suit scrambled out. His hair was slightly disheveled from his frantic drive. As he saw me standing there in the cold, his bright eyes instantly filled with red.

“Kayn! What happened to you?” Sebastian, the vice CEO of Starbright Group, rushed forward, grabbing my shoulders. “Why are you crying? You… you never cry! What did those bastards do to you?”

“It’s nothing,” I said softly, a faint, genuine smile touching my lips. “I’m going to divorce that scumbag.”

“Divorced?!” Sebastian gasped, his jaw dropping. Then, a look of pure, unadulterated ecstasy broke across his face. He looked up at the sky, clutching his chest. “Thank God! That’s fantastic, Kayn! You’ve finally come to your senses! Welcome back, my boss!”

He was so overwhelmed with excitement that a tear actually spilled over his eyelid. Over the last three years, he had watched me gradually strip away my brilliance, my status, and my true self just to play the role of a humble housewife for Landon Barnett.

“That bastard Landon!” Sebastian gritted his teeth, his tone turning vicious as he opened the car door for me. “If it weren’t for you secretly applying your unique acupuncture and neurological treatments every night while he was in a coma, did he really think his brain would just magically heal? Did he think he’d be walking around today, cheating on you? He’s nothing but a complete, ungrateful dog!”

“Enough, Sebastian,” I said, rubbing my throbbing temples as I sank into the plush leather seat. “I don’t want to hear his name anymore.”

“Right, right. Let’s not mention that trash,” Sebastian said quickly, slipping into the driver’s seat and starting the engine. He looked at me through the rearview mirror. “By the way, boss… in the three years you’ve been in seclusion, the world has gone completely insane trying to find you. Global leaders, billionaires, military commanders—they’re all offering billions for a single consultation with the legendary healer, Eagle. Are you planning a comeback?”

I leaned my head against the headrest, looking out at the passing city lights. I had hidden my true identity as Eagle—the world’s most mysterious, formidable medical genius—for far too long. I had allowed myself to be trampled on by people who weren’t even fit to hold my medical bag.

I recalled how just a few days ago, I had overheard Landon’s family talking about how the Barnett Group was desperately offering a fortune on global medical forums for any news regarding Eagle, trying to cure an executive’s daughter.

A cold, mocking sneer curved my lips.

“Spread the word,” I said softly, my voice laced with absolute authority. “It’s time for the renowned healer, Eagle, to return.”

“Yes, ma’am!” Sebastian beamed, his eyes glowing with excitement. “I’ll make sure the entire world hears it by tonight!”

Early the next morning, I was sound asleep in the penthouse master suite of the Starbrite Hotel when a shrill, incessant ring jolted me awake.

I reached out blindly, pressing the answer button. Immediately, the screeching, scolding voice of Landon’s mother, Kathy, blasted through the speaker.

“You ungrateful wretch! Where the hell have you disappeared to now?!” Kathy yelled, her voice dripping with venom. “Do you know what time it is? Get your lazy ass back here to the main mansion right now and do your chores! The floors haven’t been swept, and Verena needs her breakfast!”

In the past, I would have panicked, apologized profusely, and rushed over in a taxi, terrified of upsetting my mother-in-law.

Now, I simply laid back against the silk pillows and let out a cold, light chuckle.

“Landon and I are divorcing,” I said calmly. “I have no obligation to work as your unpaid maid anymore.”

“What?! Divorce?!” Kathy shrieked, as if she had just heard the most absurd joke in the world. “Kayn Gordon, you should know your place! An orphan with no family backing has no right to throw tantrums with us! You think Landon will care if you throw a fit? Get back here within half an hour and apologize, or I’ll throw all your pathetic belongings into the trash!”

“Throw them out then,” I said indifferently. “It’ll save me the trip.”

“You—”

I hung up the phone abruptly, blocking her number.

Though I didn’t care about the clothes I had bought as Mrs. Barnett, there were still a few essential items in my old room—specifically, my late grandmother’s medical journals and my old silver needles. I needed to retrieve them and sever all ties with that toxic family once and for all.

An hour later, I stepped into the grand living room of the Barnett main mansion.

The moment the front door opened, two sharp, high-pitched female voices rang out in unison. Kathy and her twenty-two-year-old daughter, Verena, were sitting side by side on the Italian leather sofa. Both were dripping in diamonds, but their scowling faces were no different from common shrews.

“Oh! You actually dare to show your ugly face back here?” Kathy sneered, crossing her arms. “Out all night, weren’t you? Off doing something utterly shameful, no doubt!”

“I suppose it was indeed quite shameful,” I replied smoothly, walking toward the staircase. “After all, your precious son was caught in bed with Claire Hewitt on our wedding anniversary, right before my eyes. If this news gets out to the media, the Barnett family’s reputation will be dragged through the mud.”

“Shut your mouth!” Verena yelled, jumping up from the sofa. “You can only blame yourself for being so useless! You couldn’t even keep my brother’s attention! If it weren’t for my brother’s car accident and Grandma’s dying wish back then, did you really think an orphan like you could ever marry into our noble Barnett family? In terms of family background, beauty, and talent, Claire is ten thousand times better than you!”

I paused on the stairs, infuriated to the point of laughter by their sheer, brazen shamelessness. Three years of my life, my health, my endless devotion—and all I ever received in return were these vicious, arrogant taunts.

“Talent? Background?” I turned around, reaching into my handbag. I pulled out a folded piece of paper—the original medical diagnostic report Landon had handed me two years ago when he tried to explain why he couldn’t touch me.

“Landon never touched me in three years,” I said, my voice echoing across the high ceilings. “He told me he couldn’t perform. Here, take a good look at his medical report.”

I flicked my wrist, and the paper flew through the air, landing square on Verena’s lap.

Verena opened her mouth to hurl another insult, but as her eyes scanned the top line, the word IMPOTENT bolded in black ink hit her right between the eyes. Her face paled in an instant.

“This… how is this possible?!” Verena stuttered, looking up at her mother in horror. “Landon… Landon is…”

Kathy’s face turned bright red, then ghostly white. But she quickly recovered, pointing a shaking finger at me. “You… you liar! If Landon can be intimate with Claire now, that only proves there’s nothing wrong with him! At the end of the day, it’s your own utter failure as a woman that made my son lie about being impotent just to avoid touching your filthy body!”

I stared at her, genuinely astounded by the Barnett family’s god-given ability to turn black into white.

“You’re right,” I said, letting out a soft laugh. “I was a failure for staying in this garbage dump for three years.”

I pulled a crisp set of drafted divorce papers from my bag and tossed them casually onto the coffee table.

“Have Landon sign it. I want my half of the assets.”

Without waiting for their response, I turned and strode upstairs to pack my things, leaving the mother-daughter duo standing in the living room, completely stunned into silence by my absolute transformation.

Part 3: The Commissioner’s Arrival

At 10:00 PM, the neon lights of Radiant Bar throbbed against the night sky.

Inside the VIP lounge, the bass was deafening. Sebastian had brought a group of high-society friends to celebrate my return to the real world. I had been suppressed, insulted, and confined within the walls of the Barnett family for far too long; tonight, I just wanted to let loose and feel the blood pumping in my veins again.

“Here’s to Kayn’s return!” Sebastian cheered, raising his crystal glass high.

The crowd cheered. I took a slow sip of my cocktail. However, as the night wore on, I grew exhausted by the endless stream of wealthy young men approaching our table, trying to strike up a conversation.

I leaned over, tugged on Sebastian’s jacket sleeve, and pointed toward the crowded dance floor. “Come on. Let me dance.”

Sipping onto the floor in a sleek, backless black dress, I threw myself completely into the music. With every turn, every movement of my body, the heavy weight of the last three years seemed to evaporate into the air. For the first time in years, I felt truly, fiercely alive.

Gradually, the people dancing around me began to slow down. One by one, they stepped back, their eyes hypnotized by my fluid, breathtaking movements under the flashing strobes.

At that exact moment, the heavy glass doors at the bar entrance opened. Landon stepped inside, surrounded by a group of his wealthy, elite friends, with Claire clinging tightly to his arm.

Claire stopped abruptly, pulling on Landon’s sleeve. “Landon… look over there. Isn’t that… Kayn?”

Landon shifted his gaze toward the center of the dance floor. His breath caught in his throat. The woman dancing so passionately under the spotlight was completely unrecognizable. She was radiant, captivating, and dangerously attractive—a far cry from the plain, timid wife who used to bring him warm tea in a faded apron.

Claire watched Landon’s fixated gaze, jealousy burning in her chest. She put on a fragile, sympathetic look. “Landon… Kayn is probably just deeply upset about what happened at the villa. She’s acting out to get your attention. Why don’t we go over, apologize, and ask for her forgiveness?”

Landon’s face visibly darkened, his pride wounded by the sight of other men staring at his wife. “No need,” he spat coldly, tearing his eyes away. “She’s just throwing a pathetic fit. Ignore her.”

After a few fast-paced songs, I was winded. I caught my breath, grabbing Sebastian’s arm to head back toward our VIP booth.

However, the moment I stepped off the raised wooden dance floor, a short, stout, balding man in an unbuttoned silk shirt sidled up, blocking my path. He squinted his tiny, greasy eyes at my waist, a thick, nauseating stench of cheap alcohol wafting from his mouth.

“Hey there, beautiful,” the man grinned, reaching out a hand. “Why not come join my table for a few drinks?”

“Not interested,” I said coldly, stepping around him.

The man’s face twisted in anger. He grabbed my wrist forcefully. “What are you pretending for, bitch? A woman wearing a dress like that in a bar is only here to seduce rich guys! It’s your damn honor that I’ve taken a liking to you! Don’t play hard to get!”

My eyes turned razor-sharp. I reflexively pulled back my fist, aiming directly for his throat. But before I could strike, Sebastian stepped smoothly in front of me, shoving the man back hard.

“Keep your filthy hands to yourself!” Sebastian snarled, pulling a black metal business card from his pocket and slapping it hard against the man’s chest. “I’m Sebastian Vance, Vice CEO of Starbright Group. Touch her again, and I’ll ruin your entire family by tomorrow morning!”

Over by the main bar, Landon’s group had noticed the commotion. Landon frowned, preparing to step forward—not to save me, but to avoid being embarrassed if his nominal wife got into a brawl.

The balding man, Colton, looked at the business card, his drunk mind struggling to process it. Then he burst into loud, hysterical laughter.

“Starbright Group? Vice CEO?!” Colton sneered, throwing the card onto the floor. “The executives of Starbright are top-tier elites! You think you can fool me with a fake card, you punk? You’re probably just some broke impostor she hired to play her boyfriend! Guards! Seize them both!”

Before his hired thugs could move an inch—

BANG!

A deafening, terrifying gunshot echoed through the high ceilings of the bar.

Muzzle flash illuminated the dark entrance. The crowd exploded into instant chaos. Women screamed hysterically, dropping their glasses, while men ducked under tables or bolted frantically for the emergency exits.

A loud, booming voice shattered the panic through a megaphone:

“THE MILITARY COMMISSIONER IS PRESENT! CEASE YOUR DISORDER IMMEDIATELY AND BE QUIET!”

In an instant, the bustling, chaotic hall fell dead silent.

Heavy, synchronized combat boots thuded against the polished floor. Dozens of heavily armed soldiers in dark green tactical uniforms marched inside, assault rifles held at the ready, instantly forming a secure corridor from the entrance to the center of the bar.

A moment later, a man walked in slowly.

He was nearly six-foot-three, his back ramrod straight, wearing an pristine dark military dress uniform. The brilliant seven-star crest gleaming on his epaulets was a globally unique symbol of supreme power and military command.

Roger Barnett.

The true, terrifying head of the Barnett family, wielding vast military authority across the continent.

I had only ever seen him once from a distance, years ago at a massive family banquet. I had never expected to run into the legendary commissioner in a chaotic place like this.

Roger’s icy eyes swept across the room, terrifyingly calm. His gaze landed on the trembling Colton.

“Take him away,” Roger commanded softly.

“Yes, sir!”

At his command, four armed soldiers stepped forward, grabbing the paralyzed, terrified Colton by his collar and dragging him out like a dead dog. Within seconds, the bar was completely cleared of bystanders. Only our group and Landon’s group remained.

Landon wiped a sheet of cold sweat from his forehead. He quickly smoothed his jacket, forcing a respectful, eager smile as he hurried forward.

“Uncle Roger!” Landon greeted, bowing slightly. “What… what brings you here tonight?”

Roger didn’t even spare his nephew a single glance. He walked straight past Landon, stopping directly in front of Sebastian—and then, his eyes shifted onto me.

Roger’s sharp, dark eyes scanned my face. A subtle flicker of recognition flashed in his deep gaze.

“It’s you,” Roger said, his voice deep and resonant. “I’ve seen you before. You’re Landon’s wife.”

Landon panicked instantly, throwing me a warning, desperate look from behind his uncle’s back, silently pleading with me not to cause a scene.

I looked Roger straight in the eye, speaking with absolute composure.

“He and I are divorcing.”

Roger raised an eyebrow slightly, a hint of genuine surprise crossing his stern features.

Behind him, Landon’s face turned ghastly pale. “Uncle Roger! Don’t listen to her crazy talk! We… we just had a small disagreement last night! It’s not a divorce!”

Landon stepped forward, trying to save face in front of his powerful uncle. “My wife was just a penniless orphan with no background before I took her in! She doesn’t know how society works! Please don’t mind her!”

Claire stepped up as well, putting on her softest voice. “Yes, Commissioner Barnett… Kayn is just being unreasonable. It’s one thing to throw tantrums at home with Landon, but how can you speak so disrespectfully to the Military Commissioner? Apologize to your uncle right now, Kayn!”

Roger turned his head slowly, his cold, piercing gaze locking onto Landon and Claire. The atmosphere in the room plummeted below freezing.

“When you were in your car accident,” Roger’s voice was like dripping ice, carrying unquestionable authority, “Kayn took care of you night and day for three years. No matter what, you should not treat her with such blatant contempt—let alone get involved with another woman during your lawful marriage.”

Landon was reprimanded so fiercely that he clamped his mouth shut, hanging his head in utter humiliation, not daring to utter another word.

Roger turned back to me, his tone softening imperceptibly.

“Landon’s neurological recovery three years ago was classified as a medical miracle,” Roger said, looking at me intently. “Perhaps… you truly do have a connection to the legendary healer, Eagle. I have someone extraordinarily important to me who fell into a deep coma after an accident five years ago. If you can arrange a meeting with Eagle for me… name your price. I will pay it.”

Not wanting any further dealings with the Barnett family, I decided to name an astronomical, ridiculous figure just to scare him off and make him leave me alone.

“A billion,” I said calmly, crossing my arms. “Pay one billion dollars, and I’ll contact Eagle for you. But I can’t promise she’ll agree to take the case.”

As soon as the words left my mouth, Landon, Claire, and even Sebastian gasped in horror.

However, in the very next second, Roger’s response stunned everyone in the room.

“No problem,” Roger agreed without a moment of hesitation. “One billion.”

He agreed so readily that it left me completely speechless, leaving no room for refusal. He gestured to his aide.

His chief adjutant, Nolan Finch, immediately stepped forward and handed me a pristine black-and-gold business card.

“All right,” I swallowed hard, taking the card. “I’ll notify you once I’ve contacted Eagle.”

Part 4: Speed and Secrets

The next morning, I was woken up by dozens of frantic, missed calls from Landon. Seeing that I wasn’t answering, he sent a furious, threatening text message demanding to meet at a local cafe to “settle things.”

Curious to see what pathetic game he was playing, I went.

The moment I sat down across from him in the quiet booth, Landon leaned forward, his face twisted in smug disdain.

“Kayn, I know your game,” Landon sneered, crossing his arms. “You made up that ridiculous ‘Eagle’ story last night at the bar just to get my uncle’s favor! You wanted him to intervene and force me to stay in this marriage, didn’t you? Give it up! I will only ever love Claire! You can trick my uncle for a day, but when he realizes you lied about knowing Eagle, he will ruin you!”

I looked at him as if he were a performing clown.

“I’ve already signed the divorce papers,” I said smoothly, taking a sip of my black coffee. “I have zero intention of clinging to a cheating coward. I only agreed to contact Eagle for the one billion dollars. It has absolutely nothing to do with you.”

“You—!” Landon slammed his hand on the table.

Without breaking eye contact, I pulled out my phone and dialed Roger’s direct line. I pressed the speaker button.

“Hello?” Roger’s deep voice answered instantly.

“Hello, Commissioner Barnett. This is Kayn,” I said clearly. “I just contacted Eagle. She has reviewed the preliminary medical file and agreed to take on the treatment.”

On the other side of the table, Landon’s face froze in absolute horror. He stared at my phone, his eyes nearly popping out of his sockets.

“Are you crazy?!” Landon roared, jumping out of his seat. “I’ve been sitting right in front of you the entire time! When the hell could you have contacted Eagle?! You’re lying in front of the Military Commissioner! You’re dead, Kayn!”

Infuriated and terrified of being implicated in a fraud case against his uncle, Landon turned around and stormed out of the cafe like a madman.

Ignoring his exit, I spoke into the phone. “Commissioner, Eagle has a strict condition. On the day of treatment, no one else may be present in the room except her assistant. Not even you.”

Through the speaker, Nolan Finch’s displeased voice chimed in. “Miss Gordon, are you playing with us? No one present? How do we know if this ‘Eagle’ is even real?”

“If you don’t trust me, then forget it,” I said coolly. “That’s your choice. But our financial agreement still stands for my networking fee. I’ll send you my bank account details. Pay up.”

Before they could respond, I hung up the call. I knew that the tougher and more arrogant I acted, the more uncertain and cautious Roger would be. That was precisely the psychological effect I wanted.

Leaving the cafe, I was still burning with annoyed energy. Landon had stormed off without leaving his signed copy of the divorce papers.

Just as I was stewing in frustration, my phone buzzed. It was a message from Sebastian:

“Boss, the annual Regional Supercar Championship is happening at the International Raceway today! A few rival heirs are talking trash. Want to come blow off some steam?”

When I read the word race, my eyes lit up. Driving at dangerous speeds was one of the few ways I used to vent my pent-up rage before I got married.

“Send me the location,” I texted back.

At 2:00 PM, I arrived at the roaring, petrol-scented grounds of the International Raceway. The sound of modified engines thundered through the stadium.

However, the moment I walked into the pit lane, I ran straight into Landon and Claire. Claire was clinging possessively to his arm, wearing a custom designer jacket, her smile triumphant.

“Kayn?!” Landon stopped, frowning deeply as he looked me up and down. “What are you doing here? You don’t know a single thing about racing. Did you follow me here to beg for help because you’re scared my uncle will discover your lie?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” I said coldly, walking past them. “I’m here to race. It has nothing to do with you.”

As soon as the word race left my lips, burst of loud, mocking laughter erupted from the crowd of rich heirs standing behind Landon.

“You? Race?!” one of Landon’s snobbish friends sneered. “Everyone knows you were just a pathetic housewife clinging to Landon for three years! You don’t even know how to drive a manual car!”

“She’s an orphan,” Claire added softly, fanning herself. “If I were you, Kayn, I’d be far too ashamed to show my face in a high-class venue like this.”

A tall, lanky racer stepped forward, physically blocking my path to the staging area. “Hey! Where do you think you’re going? The spectators here are all people of high status. Does a nobody like you deserve to be in the pits? Get the hell out!”

My gaze turned dangerously icy.

Landon stepped up beside the lanky man, his face darkening. “The cheapest pit pass here costs $3,000. Where would a penniless woman like you get that kind of money? You must have snuck in! Security! Get this woman out of here!”

The commotion drew a head official over. Without saying a single word, I reached into my pocket and handed him my golden contestant registration form.

The official scanned the barcode, his eyes widening. “P-Please forgive us, Mr. Barnett… but this lady holds an official, top-tier driver registration. We cannot remove a contestant.”

Landon’s face turned purple with embarrassment. “What?!”

I offered a faint, mocking smile. Unwilling to accept defeat, Landon shouted at my back as I walked away: “So what if you registered?! My private racing team has the top drivers in the province! Today’s championship trophy is mine!”

Ten minutes later, I stepped onto the tarmac wearing a sharp, custom red-and-black fire suit, my long hair tied up into a high, commanding ponytail.

Landon, standing near the pit wall, stared at me in shock. He rushed over to the fence, shouting through the mesh: “Are you out of your mind, Kayn?! You’re going to kill yourself! You can’t beat professional drivers!”

I treated his voice like useless noise. I pulled on my helmet, buckled the strap, and stepped into a high-performance matte-black supercar.

ROAR!

The green light flashed!

Eight supercars tore off the line like unleashed beasts. Instead of lagging behind, my car launched forward with terrifying precision. I handled the heavy clutch with expert ease, tailgating the lead drivers through the first three chicane turns.

Coming out of the hair-pin turn, I executed a flawless heel-toe downshift, my car screaming past the leaders and firmly taking first place!

Sitting in the pit control room, Landon panicked. He grabbed the team radio, screaming to his lead driver, Benny: “Beat her! Ram her off the track if you have to! Don’t let that bitch win!”

Benny, driving a bright yellow modified racer, panicked as he saw me pulling away. Coming around the final sweeping curve, he intentionally swerved, slamming his heavy front bumper straight toward my rear right tire!

It was a fatal, dirty move designed to flip my car into the concrete barrier.

Just as the catastrophic crash seemed inevitable, I yanked the steering wheel wildly to the left, hit the emergency handbrake, and feathered the throttle!

My car executed a physics-defying, breathtaking lateral slide—switching lanes at 160 miles per hour, dodging the yellow car by mere millimeters, and surging ahead!

The entire stadium went dead silent for two seconds. Then, the crowd erupted into absolute delirium!

“MY GOD! THE BUTTERFLY DRIFT!”

“THAT’S LILLIAN’S SIGNATURE MOVE! THE UNDEFEATED QUEEN OF STREET RACING IS BACK!”

Benny, seeing the race slipping away, lost his mind completely. He accelerated again, aiming straight for my driver-side door to crush me against the outer wall.

Suddenly, another competitor—a sleek, unmarked black supercar that had been holding third place—suddenly veered out of line.

CRASH!

With a deafening crunch of metal, the unmarked black car slammed violently into Benny’s yellow racer, knocking Benny straight into the tire barriers!

I seized the split-second opportunity, floored the accelerator, and crossed the finish line first!

Part 5: Power and Pedigrees

I brought the car to a stop near the winner’s podium, my heart pounding with adrenaline. I knew that without that unmarked black car intervening at the critical moment, dodging Benny’s second reckless collision would have been nearly impossible.

Stepping out of my vehicle, I walked over to the black supercar parked nearby and tapped gently on the dark tinted window.

The window rolled down slowly, revealing a driver wearing an opaque black helmet. I couldn’t see his face, but his broad shoulders, ramrod-straight posture, and formidable aura felt strangely familiar.

“Thank you,” I nodded sincerely.

The driver merely gave a short, silent nod in response.

Before I could say anything else, the track officials ushered us toward the victory podium. But just as I was about to step onto the number-one champion spot, Landon barged through the security line, violently blocking my path. Claire and his friends rushed up behind him.

“Kayn! Who the hell are you?!” Landon yelled, his eyes wide with a terrifying mix of confusion and anger. “How can you perform Lillian’s signature Butterfly Drift?! Are you… are you Lillian?!”

“It has nothing to do with you,” I said coldly, trying to push past him.

Landon, unable to accept being humiliated in front of his peers, turned around and gave a subtle, dark signal to the chief referee standing nearby.

The chief referee instantly caught the hint. He stepped up to the microphone, his voice echoing over the stadium loudspeakers:

“ATTENTION ALL SPECTATORS! UPON REVIEW, THE TOP TWO CARS ARE DISQUALIFIED FOR FOUL PLAY AND ILLEGAL COLLUSION! FIRST PLACE IS OFFICIALLY AWARDED TO BENNY OF THE BARNETT RACING TEAM!”

The crowd gasped. I turned around, my eyes flashing with rage. “Are you blind?! Benny deliberately rammed my car twice! He should have his racing license revoked! Instead, you disqualify me? I request an immediate video replay!”

The track monitors pulled up the high-definition footage, clearly showing Benny’s yellow car swerving aggressively to smash into me.

Yet, the referee crossed his arms, sticking to his corrupt ruling. “The footage clearly shows you colluded with the black car to force Benny off the track. I am the chief referee! My decision is final!”

Landon’s face was filled with smug triumph. He leaned in, whispering viciously: “Hear that, Kayn? You lost. In this world, money and power make the rules. You’re just a nobody.”

Two heavy security guards stepped forward, reaching out to drag me off the podium.

Just then, an icy, terrifying voice cut through the stadium like a steel blade:

“STOP.”

The driver of the black car slowly unbuckled his helmet, taking it off. As the helmet came away, a breathtakingly handsome, sharp-jawed face was revealed.

It was Roger Barnett.

The entire venue fell into a suffocating, dead silence. The referee dropped his clipboard; Landon’s smug smile vanished, his face turning the color of chalk.

Roger held his helmet under his arm, stepping onto the podium. His cold, dark eyes locked onto the trembling referee.

“Since we are speaking of power making the rules…” Roger said softly, every word heavy with military authority, “…is my power enough?”

The chief referee’s knees buckled. He practically fell to the ground, grabbing the golden champion trophy with shaking hands and offering it up to me. “C-Commissioner Barnett! I… I failed to recognize you! Miss Gordon is the true champion! Please take the trophy!”

I looked at the glittering trophy, then at Landon’s pale face, and finally at the corrupt referee.

“If the results of a sport can be so easily manipulated by power,” I said coldly, “then I don’t want this dirty trophy.”

I shoved the trophy away, turned on my heel, and walked out of the stadium without looking back.

Back in the staging area, I changed out of my fire suit and into my street clothes. As I walked out toward the parking lot, I saw Roger sternly reprimanding Landon in the distance.

Hearing my footsteps, Roger turned and caught up to me.

“Thank you for standing up for me today, Commissioner,” I said, stopping to look at him. “I owe you one. Name your price for the favor.”

Roger looked down at me, his expression unreadable. “Last time, we discussed the healer, Eagle.”

“Eagle’s rules cannot be changed,” I reminded him firmly. “No outsiders present during treatment. If you aren’t willing to trust her, our deal ends here. Find another doctor.”

Roger stared at me for three long seconds. Then, to my utter surprise, the terrifying Military Commissioner bowed his head slightly.

“I was rude before,” Roger said quietly. “Please forgive my arrogance. As long as Eagle is willing to save her… I will agree to any conditions.”

A flash of genuine surprise crossed my eyes. The ruthless military commander was surprisingly humble when it came to the woman he loved. I nodded. “Fine. I’ll arrange it.”

“Let me drive you back,” Roger offered.

“No need. I have my own car,” I replied.

Roger glanced at his vehicle, which had a crushed front bumper from hitting Benny’s car. “Then… can you drive me? My car was damaged saving yours.”

I looked at his damaged car, stayed silent for a second, and walked to my sedan. I got into the driver’s seat, started the engine, and gestured for him to get in.

When his adjutant, Nolan, tried to follow him into the back seat, I instantly hit the door-lock button.

“Sorry, Mr. Finch,” I said through the half-open window, remembering his disrespect from yesterday. “No room left. Find your own way back.”

Nolan was fuming, his face turning red, but he could only stand at attention as I slammed the gas pedal, leaving him in a cloud of dust.

In the passenger seat, Roger chuckled helplessly, shaking his head. “I apologize for my adjutant’s poor manners.”

“He’s loyal to you. I just don’t like him,” I said frankly.

After dropping Roger off, Sebastian called me, asking if I wanted to officially take over Starbrite Group as the head CEO now that I was back.

“No,” I declined thoughtfully. “I’ve been away from the corporate world for three years. It’s better if I start from the bottom at one of our local subsidiaries to get a feel for the current market.”

“All right,” Sebastian agreed. “We have a marketing subsidiary right here in the city—Pyth Media. How about I set you up as an executive assistant first?”

“That works.”

Part 6: Petty Games and Golden Passes

Early the next morning, I dressed in a simple, professional suit and went to Pyth Media to check in.

The HR manager led me to the marketing department on the ninth floor, introducing me to my new direct supervisor, a woman named Debbie Perkins.

Debbie was in her early thirties, dressed in flashy designer clothes. The moment her eyes landed on me, a strange, intense look of hostility flashed deep in her eyes. I felt as though she recognized me, even though I was completely certain we had never met before.

“How was she hired?” Debbie asked the HR manager, her tone sharp and condescending. “Why wasn’t I, her direct department head, informed about a new assistant?”

“Miss Gordon was admitted through a special executive recruitment channel,” the HR manager explained politely. “She is extremely capable. Please mentor her well.”

Debbie frowned deeply, but didn’t press further in front of HR.

Once HR left, Debbie walked me to a cramped desk tucked in the far corner near the copier. Surprisingly, throughout the morning, her attitude flipped completely. She was overly enthusiastic, buying me expensive coffee and offering to order me a high-end lunch.

“Be honest with me, Kayn,” Debbie leaned over my desk, her eyes probing. “Do you have deep connections with the group’s higher-ups?”

“No,” I smiled faintly, playing along. “I’m just an ordinary person. How could a low-level assistant know the group’s top executives?”

Debbie’s eyes darted to the old, scratched phone sitting on my desk. She thought it over for a long moment, connecting the dots in her head. The fake, sugary smile on her face vanished instantly, replaced by a dark, arrogant sneer.

My plain appearance and lack of luxury items matched the “broke, useless orphan ex-wife” image her close friend, Claire Hewitt, had described to her over the phone last night. She realized she had wasted half a day flattery on a nobody.

“I’m done eating,” Debbie snapped, tossing her oily lunchbox onto my desk. “Go throw this out in the main dumpster downstairs.”

“Okay,” I said calmly, taking the box without objection.

When I returned to my desk, Debbie unceremoniously slammed a two-foot-high stack of thick documents in front of me.

“Make three copies of all of these by hand,” Debbie ordered loudly, ensuring the whole office could hear. “Also, the floor cleaner is on leave today, so wipe down all the windows and scrub the breakroom floor. Oh, and go fetch a heavy new water jug from the basement.”

These tasks were clearly nowhere near an executive assistant’s job description; it was blatant hazing. My surrounding colleagues watched in silence, none daring to speak up against the senior manager.

I didn’t react. I was here to observe the company’s internal operations from the very bottom. I quietly got to work.

Seeing my complete compliance, Debbie grew convinced that I was a spineless push-over with zero backing. Over the next few days, her harassment escalated rapidly.

On Friday at 5:00 PM, I was packing my bag to leave on time. Debbie suddenly rushed out of her private office, screeching at me:

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Kayn?! You think you can just waltz out of here before your work is finished?!”

“Who says I didn’t finish?” I asked, looking up calmly. “Everything you assigned has been completed. Even the quarterly marketing proposal has been emailed to your inbox.”

Debbie rushed to her computer in disbelief. She had deliberately assigned a task that would take a veteran manager until 8:00 PM to finish. But as she opened the file and reviewed it, her face stiffened. The proposal was utterly flawless—brilliant, precise, and strategic.

“Did you hire an outside agency to help you?!” Debbie accused angrily. “How could a low-class temp like you possibly write this?!”

“It’s not that hard,” I said smoothly. “I was done by 3:00 PM.”

Debbie was infuriated by my relaxed tone. “Don’t even think about resting tomorrow! You’re coming in for mandatory overtime all weekend!”

“I disagree,” I replied, slinging my bag over my shoulder. “I’ve completed my contract duties. You have no legal right to demand overtime.”

Debbie crossed her arms, frowning with extreme impatience. “What could a penniless woman like you possibly have to do on a Saturday?!”

“I have an appointment at the Five-Star Building tomorrow,” I said calmly, laying my cards on the table. “It’s classified. If it gets delayed because of your petty games, you won’t be able to afford the consequences.”

Debbie froze for a second. Then, she burst into loud, hysterical laughter.

“The Five-Star Building?!” Debbie shrieked, clutching her stomach. “That’s the supreme military command center of the entire region! Even billionaires need layers of security clearance just to approach the outer gates! And you—a pathetic, fired housewife—claim you have business there?! What a hilarious joke!”

The surrounding colleagues joined in the mocking laughter.

“If I were lying, I would have picked a more believable excuse,” I said coolly.

“You’ve always loved to lie big, Kayn!” Debbie sneered, stepping closer. “Claire told me all about you! You’re married to Landon Barnett, but he couldn’t stand your pathetic face! Before you even signed the divorce, you were sleeping around with some guy and had him pretend to be a Starbright executive! You probably faked your way into this company the same way! Security! Throw this fraud out!”

Two heavy security guards stepped out of the elevator, looking hesitatingly at each other.

Just as they approached me, the elevator doors opened again. A military courier in a crisp uniform rushed out, carrying a sealed silver envelope.

“Excuse me!” the courier called out loudly. “Who is Kayn Gordon?! There is a time-sensitive, top-secret document from the Five-Star Building requiring her personal signature!”

The entire floor fell into a dead, suffocating silence.

Debbie’s confident smile froze on her face. “T-This is impossible… You’re putting on an act! This courier is an actor you hired!”

I stepped past the frozen crowd, reaching out to sign for the document.

Before my pen could touch the paper, Debbie suddenly lunged forward, snatching the silver envelope straight out of the courier’s hand!

She felt the thickness of the envelope, feeling nothing inside but thin cardstock. A triumphant grin spread across her face again.

“It’s practically empty!” Debbie yelled hysterically. “I knew it! You hired an actor to save face! I’ll tear this fake package open right now and expose you!”

TEAR!

She violently ripped the silver envelope in half. Two gleaming, solid-gold metallic cards slipped out, clattering loudly against the floorboards.

Debbie looked down. Printed in bold, embossed black lettering across the golden metal were the words:

FIVE-STAR MILITARY COMMAND CENTER: SUPREME UNRESTRICTED ACCESS PASS.

All color instantly drained from Debbie’s face.

Part 7: Unmasked Grandmaster

The silence in the office was so absolute that you could hear a pin drop.

Colleagues crowded around, gasping. Debbie fell to her knees, frantically pulling out her phone to scan the encrypted military QR code stamped on the back of the golden cards.

BEEP.

A high-pitched verification chime echoed from her phone, displaying the official military seal: AUTHENTICATED. ISSUED BY OFFICE OF THE MILITARY COMMISSIONER.

“Impossible…” Debbie gasped, her voice trembling violently. “How… how can this be real?!”

“Do you believe it now?” I asked, looking down at her coldly. “I personally requested these passes from Commissioner Barnett yesterday. Do you still think I’m lying?”

Debbie looked up at me, her eyes filled with terror. “How… how did a nobody like you get passes from the Military Commissioner?!”

“Pick them up,” I ordered softly.

Debbie’s face flushed with intense humiliation. Her hands trembling, she slowly reached out, picked the two golden passes off the floor, and held them out to me with both hands. “I… I’ve picked them up for you… Please…”

“Didn’t you say they were fake?” I said, stepping back. “Since you tore the official military document, I refuse to sign for it now. Officer, please take these back to the Five-Star Building and report that Manager Perkins destroyed official military property.”

The courier’s face darkened instantly. “Tearing military command documents is a federal offense. I will report this immediately.”

“NO! PLEASE!” Debbie broke down completely. Desperate and terrified of prison, she dropped flat onto her knees right in front of my shoes, sobbing wildly. “Kayn! I was wrong! I was blind! I’ll do anything you want! Please sign for it! Don’t let them arrest me! I’m begging you!”

I looked down at the pathetic woman kneeling at my feet. I reached out, took the golden passes, and signed my name on the courier’s tablet.

“I signed for it,” I said coldly. “But your slander and deliberate destruction of my belongings aren’t settled. My legal team will be in touch.”

Hearing that she was still facing a lawsuit, Debbie’s legs gave out completely. She collapsed onto the floor, her high heels kicking off, looking utterly ruined.

I turned back to my desk, opened my laptop, and logged into MedConnect—the world’s most exclusive, encrypted medical network. I hadn’t opened this account in three years.

I typed out a short, public broadcast post:

[USER: EAGLE]: Returning to practice tomorrow for a specialized neurological procedure. I require one medical assistant for the operation. Requirements: High precision, absolute discretion.

ENTER.

Within thirty seconds, the post exploded! The global medical forum crashed from the sheer volume of traffic! Over ten thousand comments flooded the thread in minutes, with world-renowned surgeons begging for the chance to assist.

Then, a private message popped up at the top of my screen.

The sender was the premier figure in modern medicine: Adams Patel, Deputy Director of Jaeville International Hospital.

Message: [Eagle, please take me along! I will assist for free! I have access to the world’s most advanced surgical equipment, newly developed neurological drugs, and the rarest medicinal herbs globally. Allow me to assist, and my entire hospital’s resources are at your disposal.]

I smiled faintly. Top-tier medical equipment was indeed difficult to arrange on short notice.

I typed back one single word: [Fine.]

Early Saturday morning, I met Adams Patel outside the research facility. We had barely spoken a few words when a tall, angry young man burst from around the corner, blocking our path.

It was Rory Patel—Adams’s grandson.

“You fraud!” Rory yelled, pointing a finger directly at my face. “I’m warning you! Don’t you dare try to trick my grandfather with your fake medical identity!”

“Rory! Shut your mouth!” Adams slapped his grandson hard across the shoulder. “If you disrespect Grandmaster Eagle again, I will disown you from the Patel family!”

Just then, a heavy military SUV roared up, stopping right beside us. The window rolled down, revealing Commissioner Barnett’s chief adjutant, Nolan.

“Miss Gordon,” Nolan said respectfully. “The Commissioner sent me to escort you and the doctor to the private sanatorium.”

Rory’s jaw dropped to the floor as he watched his legendary grandfather humbly open the car door for me.

Thirty minutes later, the SUV passed through three military checkpoints, stopping outside a hidden white medical building deep in the mountains.

Nolan led us inside. Roger was standing in front of a massive glass panel, staring silently into an ICU room. On the hospital bed lay a young woman with pale skin—Chloe Fuller, Roger’s long-term comatose patient.

Roger turned around, looking directly at Adams, assuming the famous doctor was Eagle. “Dr. Patel, when can the treatment begin?”

Adams cleared his throat nervously, stepping back and bowing 90 degrees toward me. “I am merely the assistant today. The treatment depends entirely on Grandmaster Eagle.”

Roger froze, his dark eyes snapping onto me in utter disbelief. “You… You are Eagle?!”

I didn’t waste time explaining. I pushed open the ICU door, walked up to the bed, and pulled out a leather roll containing slender, silver acupuncture needles.

Just as I raised a needle, Roger rushed forward, grabbing my wrist in a grip so powerful it felt like steel vice grips. “What are you doing to her?!”

I flicked my wrist with incredible speed, pricking a pressure point on his thumb. Roger gasped, his hand losing all strength as he instinctively released me.

“Having second thoughts?” I asked cold-bloodedly, adjusting my gloves. “Eagle dislikes being disturbed during a procedure. As Military Commissioner, you must also abide by my rules. Step outside.”

Roger stared at me in intense silence, the air in the room suffocatingly heavy. Finally, he turned and walked out.

Inside the room, Adams looked at Chloe’s brain scans, his face grave. “Grandmaster… Miss Fuller’s brain activity has been flatline for five years. She is essentially a living corpse. Is there really hope?”

“Eagle never gives up on a patient who is still breathing,” I said softly, inserting the first silver needle with surgical precision into Chloe’s crown.

Outside the ICU, Landon—who had somehow tracked my location—barged through the outer security door, shouting wildly:

“Uncle Roger! Don’t be fooled! Kayn knows nothing about medicine! She’s a complete fraud, and that old doctor is fake too! If she touches Miss Fuller, she’ll kill her!”

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

Suddenly, a piercing heart-rate alarm blared from the monitors inside the ward!

Roger’s face shifted drastically. He slammed open the door just as Landon rushed up behind him, screaming, “See?! I told you she’d kill her!”

Roger, pushed beyond his patience, turned around and roared: “NOLAN! DRAG THIS IDIOT OUT OF MY SIGHT!”

“Uncle Roger! No! Kayn is lying to you—” Landon struggled hysterically, but four armed soldiers dragged him down the hallway, his desperate shouts fading into the distance.

Inside the room, the alarm settled. Six agonizing hours passed in total silence.

At 6:00 PM, the head attending physician, Dr. Craig, walked out of the ICU, his face pale, his hands shaking violently as he looked at Roger.

“C-Commissioner Barnett…” Dr. Craig stammered, tears streaming down his face. “Miss Fuller… her finger… her finger just moved!”

WHAT?!

Roger could barely believe his ears. In five long years, Chloe had never shown a single reflex!

He rushed into the room. On the white sheets, Chloe’s slender index finger trembled softly in response to his voice.

Roger turned back to me, his eyes filled with immense shock, deep regret, and profound reverence. “I… I was blind. You truly are the miracle healer…”

“Her condition has stabilized,” I said, wiping my hands with an antiseptic cloth. “Follow the prescription I left on the table. No payment is accepted until the patient is fully awake and walking. That is my rule.”

Without waiting for his praise, I gathered my needles and walked out into the cool evening air.

Two days later, Landon sat in his office, his face pale and eyes bloodshot. He had tried calling me fifty times, only to find his number blocked on every platform.

Desperate to avoid the legal fallout of our impending divorce trial, he used a servant’s phone to send a text: “Kayn, let’s meet at the Grand Cafe at 2:00 PM to sign the divorce papers. Don’t drag this out.”

I replied with two words: [Too early.]

He texted back: “4:00 PM then!”

I replied: [Not coming.]

Driven completely insane by my dismissive attitude, he called directly from a landline. “Kayn! Weren’t you the one desperate for a divorce before?! Now that I’m agreeing, why the hell are you stalling?!”

“Before, I wanted a quick divorce, but you dragged your feet,” I laughed coldly over the line. “Now I enjoy watching you squirm. Got a problem with that?”

“What will it take for you to sign?!” Landon screamed.

“Besides half the marital assets,” I said smoothly, “I want you, your mother, your sister, and Claire to kneel down in public and apologize for three years of slander. Otherwise, no deal.”

He gritted his teeth, his pride crushed, but cornered by his fear of my lawsuit, he choked out: “…Fine. 8:00 PM tonight at the Grand Cafe.”

That evening at 8:00 PM, while Landon and his family were waiting anxiously at the cafe, I was sitting inside a private, candlelit VIP room at the Grand Hotel, having a lavish dinner.

Roger had reserved the entire top-floor restaurant to apologize for his earlier distrust. He had personally picked me up, presenting me with a massive bouquet of rare black roses and a velvet box containing a priceless pink diamond necklace.

“Are you sure we should be dining like this, Commissioner?” I asked, looking at the romantic candlelit table set for two.

Roger’s stern face flushed slightly. “My subordinates took matters into their own hands… They misunderstood my instructions. Please don’t get the wrong idea.”

I smiled, taking a sip of vintage wine. Just then, my phone rang. It was Landon.

I picked up, putting it on speaker.

“KAYN!” Landon’s furious voice screamed through the speaker. “IT’S 8:30 PM! WE HAVE BEEN WAITING HERE FOR THIRTY MINUTES! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?!”

“Oh, sorry,” I said casually, cutting a piece of steak. “I was handling something important and completely forgot about you.”

“YOU FORGOT?!” Landon roared. “WE HAVE FOUR PEOPLE WAITING FOR YOU HERE! DON’T YOU HAVE A CONSCIENCE?!”

“For three years of marriage, you made me wait for you every single night,” I replied, my voice turning icy. “Now you can’t even handle waiting thirty minutes? If any of you utters another foul word, I’m cancelling the divorce entirely.”

On the other end of the line, Kathy instantly clamped her mouth shut.

I leisurely finished my three-course meal before taking a slow taxi to the cafe at 9:30 PM.

The moment I stepped inside the private room, Kathy and Verena charged at me like rabid dogs. I sidestepped effortlessly, causing Verena to trip over her own high heels and crash face-first into a display cabinet, cutting her forehead.

“Mom! I’m bleeding!” Verena shrieked. “This vicious bitch did it on purpose!”

“That’s right,” I smiled brightly. “I did it on purpose. I’m here to take back everything you stole from me. What are you going to do about it?”

Kathy was shaking with rage, preparing to claw my face.

Suddenly, through the glass window, a heavy black military convoy pulled up outside the cafe. Armed soldiers stepped out, guarding the perimeter.

Kathy and Verena’s faces turned white as paper. Terrified that Roger’s men were tailing me to execute them for offending the Commissioner, Kathy threw all her pride into the gutter.

Grabbing Verena’s arm, she dragged her daughter down, and with a loud THUD, both of them dropped straight onto their knees on the hard floor!

“WE’VE KNELT! WE’VE APOLOGIZED!” Kathy sobbed hysterically, slapping her own cheeks. “PLEASE! JUST SIGN THE PAPERS AND FREES LANDON!”

Claire, terrified of further mishaps, frantically pulled out the divorce papers and a pen, shoving them in front of me.

Landon looked at me, his eyes filled with a strange, agonizing emptiness as he realized I was truly leaving his life forever. “Kayn… you really took care of me for three years… If you apologize to my mother, I’ll give you extra money—”

“Keep your dirty pennies,” I sneered, forcefully shaking off his hand.

I grabbed the pen, signed my name—KAYN GORDON—with a powerful stroke, tossed the pen onto his face, and stood up.

“From this day forward, I have nothing to do with the Barnett family,” I said, stepping over their kneeling bodies. “Don’t ever cross my path again.”

I walked out of the cafe into the cool night wind. A sleek military vehicle door swung open before me. I stepped inside, sinking into the plush leather seat next to Roger.

Looking through the cafe window, Landon, Claire, and his family watched in absolute horror as the “penniless orphan” was personally driven away by the supreme Military Commissioner of the nation.

Roger turned to me, his dark eyes watching my profile softly. “Where to now, Grandmaster?”

I looked out at the bright, endless lights of the city, a cold, confident smile gracing my lips.

“To the top,” I said softly. “Where I belong.”