Chapter 3: Humiliation and Heartbreak

Soon, a staff member came out into the lobby, asking if anyone was a member of the club.

He wore a crisp blue blazer, the club logo embroidered above his heart. The way he scanned the group made it clear he was used to dealing with the rich and the wanna-bes.

Everyone quieted down and looked at Derek in unison.

Derek's face immediately turned awkward—it was clear he wasn't a member.

His bravado faded in an instant, and he looked at his shoes, cheeks flushing a dull red. His hangers-on glanced around, trying to play it cool but failing miserably.

Only then did I realize this was Blue Lake Country Club, a famous members-only club open only to the wealthy and powerful.

Growing up, I’d heard about it in whispers—rumors of politicians and CEOs making deals on the golf course, country music stars flying in for weekend getaways. It was old money, and Derek was out of his depth.

Naturally, Derek didn't qualify. No wonder they hadn't gone in yet.

I couldn't help but snicker.

This gave the annoyed Derek an outlet.

"What are you laughing at, you loser? Aren't you standing here with us too?"

He shot me a glare, voice rising. His cronies picked up the cue, circling closer.

"Exactly, you're the shabbiest one here, and you still have the nerve to laugh."

"Looks like someone is trying to act important."

The staff member followed their gaze to me, his expression tightening as he clearly recognized me.

His eyes widened a little, and I could see a flicker of surprise—maybe even respect. He caught my eye, hesitated, then gave a small nod—like he knew something the others didn’t.

He stepped back, becoming much more respectful.

At this moment, Derek was still boasting.

"My brother-in-law will be here soon. He's a member and will take us in."

Of course, this brother-in-law wasn't me.

But seeing the staff's respectful demeanor, they immediately started acting tough.

"Derek really has connections, unlike some people who are just eyesores standing here."

The insults kept coming, a dull chorus that echoed in the marble lobby.

"How could someone like that be Derek's brother-in-law? It's embarrassing to even bring him out."

"Tonight, let him see the world and realize the gap between himself and Manager Lewis."

The words stung, but I refused to let it show. I just straightened my jacket, letting the moment pass, counting the seconds until this charade was over.

Soon, I saw Natalie, dressed to the nines, getting out of a car arm-in-arm with a middle-aged man.

She was in a dark green cocktail dress, heels clicking against the stone steps. Her makeup was flawless, hair swept up in a style she never wore around me. The man at her side—Caleb Lewis—looked like he’d just stepped off a magazine cover, all expensive cologne and confidence.

The two were laughing and talking, acting pretty close.

I understood, and sighed.

There was no more hiding, no more hoping for a peaceful split. Tonight was going to be messy, and there was no way around it.

When she saw me, Natalie's expression didn't change at all.

"Mark, you came straight here after your business trip? Thanks for making the effort. Let me introduce you—this is Manager Caleb Lewis."

Her voice was light, practiced. She was playing her part, just as much as the rest of them. I stared at them without speaking, the atmosphere instantly tense. She used to save that smile for me. I remembered our first date—how she’d laughed at my dumb jokes, eyes sparkling just for me.

Caleb Lewis sneered arrogantly, walked up to me, and stepped in close, crowding my space, his voice low and smug.

His hand balled my jacket, pulling me just close enough to smell the bourbon on his breath. His face was flushed with power, a twisted grin stretching across his lips.

"Don't act like that."

"Think about it, now that Natalie's with me, hasn't your life gotten better?"

He leaned in, dropping his voice to a mock whisper. I could feel the others watching, eager for a scene.

"Otherwise, how could you afford designer clothes and a fancy car?"

After saying this, he shoved me backward.

He even clapped his hands, as if he'd touched something gross.

At least Caleb could tell my clothes and car were real—he had a better eye than these hangers-on.

I spoke coldly.

"Don't accuse me wrongly. I haven't spent a dime of Natalie's money."

Natalie's expression changed, and she called my name in a threatening tone.

Her voice sharpened, like a warning bell just before a train comes barreling through. Before she finished, Derek came over and put his arm around me.

My expression changed sharply.

I felt something cold jab my ribs—hidden by his arm around my shoulders. My pulse spiked.

From an outsider's perspective, it just looked like we were two close brothers.

He said to Caleb,

"Bro, you go ahead inside. I'll have a good talk with this stubborn mule."

Derek pulled me to a corner, followed by his two cronies.

The hallway was dim, lined with heavy portraits and the faint scent of cigars. The hallway smelled like old cigars and floor wax. Once we got there, he let go of me and, without a word, punched me.

Catching me off guard, I had no time to react.

The blow landed in my gut, knocking the wind from me. I doubled over, pain blooming sharp and hot. Each punch made the world flicker around the edges. Clutching my stomach, I half-knelt on the ground. He grabbed my hair.

"You really think you can get your hands on my sister's money?"

His breath was ragged, spit flying with each word. The two cronies loomed behind him, arms crossed like nightclub bouncers.

"Let me tell you, that money won't reach you. My sister already gave it to me. Our company is going to partner with Manager Lewis on a project."

He sounded so smug, so sure of himself, it was almost comical. The pieces were falling into place, one ugly truth at a time.

"When the time comes, I'll be President Derek. Our whole family will be set. If you know what's good for you, step aside."

"For all your hard work in the past, I won't get rough with you."

I stared at Derek and slowly started to laugh.

It was a hollow, bitter laugh—echoing off the walls. So that's it, so that's it.

Once Redwood was sold, Caleb Lewis, worried about losing his position, planned a backup—investing in their company's project together with Derek.

Then, naturally, he and Natalie got together.

Tonight is a setup—a way to force me out.

Derek took my laughter as surrender. He nodded in satisfaction, then let go of me.

"That's more like it. You're my sister's stain, and stains belong in the trash."

He looked down at me, as if he was flicking lint from his jacket. "Later, just toast Manager Lewis and wish them a long and happy life together, and that's it."

"Maybe if Manager Lewis is in a good mood, he'll give you some breakup money."

At that moment, my phone suddenly rang.

I looked at the caller—it was the CEO of Redwood Enterprises, Caleb's boss. I answered.

"Mr. Harper, to celebrate the successful deal, let me treat you to dinner tonight. Will you do me the honor?"

His voice was warm, sincere—a stark contrast to the venom in this hallway. I replied, "Sure, I'm at Blue Lake."

He immediately said respectfully, "I'll be right there."

Before I could finish, my phone was snatched away and hung up by the two cronies.

"Who are you calling? Trying to get someone to help?"

"Looks like you don't know what's good for you."

I frowned and tried to get my phone back, but the next second, it was smashed to pieces on the ground.

The crunch of plastic and glass was final—a hard, ugly punctuation mark. I was also pushed into the club and into the private room they'd booked.

I looked around. It was the smallest private room.

Inside, everyone was already jeering.

"Cross-armed toast! Cross-armed toast! Cross-armed toast!"

The chant was loud, drunken—like frat boys daring each other at a college kegger. Natalie's cheeks were flushed, her eyes moist, already leaning on Caleb Lewis. The atmosphere was extremely suggestive.

Caleb saw me enter, waved at me, his eyes full of malice.

"Perfect, the ex-husband is here. Come pour us some wine."

I understood this kind of man's private, twisted pleasure.

Showing off in front of me made him feel a special sense of accomplishment.

I only looked at Natalie, the one I thought was my true love.

"Have you really decided?"

My voice was low, even. It was the last thing I’d ever say to her as her husband, and I wanted her to hear it clearly.

Natalie pursed her lips. "Mark, you're a good man, but you can't give me what I want."

I closed my eyes, all traces of our past love flashing before me, then slowly disappearing.

Two glasses of wine were shoved into my hands, and I was forced to hand them to the two of them.

Then I watched as they drank the cross-armed toast—a gesture at weddings, symbolizing union.

It was meant to humiliate me, to erase what we once had. I watched the crystal glasses clink, red wine swirling like blood between their arms.

"Natalie and Manager Lewis really are a perfect match."

The comment landed heavy, followed by a round of snickers. I could feel their eyes on me, hungry for more drama.

"Some self-important losers finally realize their place now, right?"

"Exactly, you weren't even worthy to carry their bags. You should just go back to your corner."

Derek was smug.

He leaned forward, elbows on the table, barely able to contain his glee. "We called you here to make you face reality. Here's the divorce agreement. Sign it."

He shoved a thick envelope across the table, a cheap ballpoint clipped to the top. I picked up the pen and looked at Natalie.

"I can sign, but you have to return my mother's bracelet. That's my family's heirloom, passed to the daughter-in-law."

I spoke quietly, but with all the conviction I had left. It's also for the next matriarch of the Harper family.

My mom repeatedly reminded me—this was passed down from my grandmother, and must never be lost.

Natalie's gaze flickered, then she lowered her head.

She fiddled with her napkin, voice trembling. "I lost that bracelet."

I hurriedly asked, "Where did you lose it?"

The next second, I understood—Natalie was lying. I followed her gaze and saw the bracelet sitting in a velvet box on the table.

It glinted under the chandelier, more precious than any ring. Clearly, it was meant as a gift to Caleb Lewis.

She naturally couldn't admit to giving away my family heirloom.

I immediately got anxious, quickly signed the divorce agreement, and went to take the bracelet from the table.

But the next second, my wrist was grabbed.

"You little thief, daring to steal in front of so many people!"

"Must be desperate for cash!"

"He signed the divorce agreement—he has nothing to do with our family now! Grab him and call the cops!"

In the chaos, all I could see was the bracelet before me.

Since I could remember, my parents were always busy with business, growing Harper Group into a huge company.

I was raised by my grandmother, a woman from the river towns of the Midwest, who was my whole childhood.

She smelled of lavender and always hummed old folk songs while she cooked. When she died, she left only this bracelet.

Though she was frail, she still smiled at me: "Mark, you must be happy in the future, and be with a woman who truly loves you."

Her words echoed through my mind, a comfort and a curse all at once. Now I've lost my grandmother and the woman who truly loved me.

I can't lose this bracelet too.

Several hands reached for me, some even stepping on my hand to keep me from the bracelet.

But I ignored them all and struggled forward. My knees scraped the floor, but all I could see was my grandma’s wrinkled hands fastening that bracelet on me as a kid.

My palms scraped against the hardwood, desperate, fighting through the pain and humiliation.

The next second, a hand picked up my bracelet.

I saw Caleb Lewis's smiling face.

He dangled the bracelet between two fingers, like it was nothing more than a trinket from a thrift store.

"You know what your problem is, Mark? You think junk like this means something. That’s why you’ll always lose."

Insult me if you want, but why insult my grandmother's keepsake?

I was shaking with anger.

My jaw clenched so tight it hurt. "I've signed the divorce agreement. I have nothing to do with Natalie anymore. I'll leave her to you."

"Don't touch my bracelet!"

Caleb sneered.

He tossed his head, feigning innocence. "What do you mean 'leave her to me'? Is there anything I can't get? Do I need your permission?"

"As for this bracelet, I don't think it's worth much. I'll compensate you for it."

With that, he raised his hand high and smashed the bracelet on the ground.

The crack was sharp, final. My grandmother’s memory, shattered at my feet.

I stood frozen, my hands and feet cold.

Laughter echoed around me.

It bounced off the walls, filling the room with a sick joy. "Look at how pathetic he is, like a stray."

"Boasting about leaving her, but she was always Manager Lewis's woman."

"Should’ve known he’d try to steal something. Some people just can’t help themselves."

"Guess you’re not the golden boy after all."

"Breaking his bracelet is nothing—he's a thief, he should at least spend a few days in jail."

"That's right, a thieving crook, better arrest him early."

Amid the jeers, Caleb Lewis pulled out his wallet and took out a small stack of bills.

He threw the cash in my face, one by one.

The bills fluttered down, brushing my cheek and landing at my feet. "Is this enough?"

"Forget the bracelet, this money is enough to buy your life, isn't it?"

Caleb was throwing money gleefully.

The air was thick with humiliation, the smell of wine and money turning my stomach. Suddenly, the sound of hurried footsteps came from outside.

The laughter cut off as heavy footsteps echoed down the hall. The room went still—everyone’s heads snapping toward the door.

The private room door was suddenly pushed open, and a dignified, well-dressed man strode in at the front—it was the CEO of Redwood Enterprises.

He scanned the wreckage—broken glass, scattered bills, stunned faces. Then his eyes landed on me. “Mark Harper,” he said, his voice ringing out. “You’re the man of the hour.”