Chapter 3

Poof!

A sudden explosion of pain detonated in my body, radiating outward from my liver through my entire being.

I couldn't hold it back - blood sprayed into the bowl.

Everyone startled at the sight of the red liquid, except Luciano. He just laughed.

"Ele, don't worry - the kid just choked on the broth."

"That's not blood, just hotpot soup. Remember? We ordered the spicy red broth."

The spicy broth was red from chili oil, looking similar to blood. Luciano quickly explained it away to prevent Elen from showing sympathy.

Thanks to his explanation, not just Elen but everyone assumed I'd just choked on the soup. They had no idea I was vomiting blood from liver pain.

Luciano was twisting the truth!

But I didn't explain. I knew Elen wouldn't believe me anyway. She'd just think I was playing for sympathy.

I'd hurt her once before. I couldn't let her think I was manipulative too.

"Sorry Elen, the soup was too hot. I choked." I forced out the words.

Elen huffed, but seeing my deathly pale face drenched in cold sweat, she stayed silent.

Luciano wasn't done though. "Hey kido, you've still got half a bowl left. Planning to raise fish in it or trying to get out of drinking?"

"Let me tell you - if you don't finish this half, you'll be selling your kidney to pay for that dress!"

I stayed quiet.

From how Luciano addressed Elen, I knew he wouldn't let this go.

He wouldn't be satisfied until I died in front of him.

If I didn't drink this half bowl, he'd alert the manager.

The manager would side with him - he was the customer after all.

Then I'd have no choice but to pay.

Without arguing, I picked up the remaining half bowl. Eyes closed, fighting through the stabbing liver pain, I forced down the broth bit by bit.

The moment I finished, my liver exploded in agony.

Like thousands of needles stabbing me, the pain spreading even to my abdomen.

"Hmph. Let's go, Luciano. We'll let it go this time."

Elen kept her word. Seeing me drink the bowl, she grabbed her purse to leave without demanding payment.

Luciano nodded. "Alright Ele, you and your colleagues go ahead. I'll settle the bill and catch up."

Elen's group left without lingering.

Once everyone was gone, Luciano's fake smile turned cold. "How's that liver cancer feeling after all that alcohol? Not so good, huh?"

I frowned. How did he know about my cancer?

"Oh, I forgot to mention - I studied medicine. Your yellowed eyes are a clear sign of liver cancer," Luciano explained.

I was shocked.

So he was a medicine student.

No wonder he could tell I had liver cancer.

But if he knew, why force me to drink alcohol-spiked broth?

Wasn't he trying to kill me?

"What's your relationship with Ele?" I asked.

Luciano laughed coldly. "Use your male intuition and guess."

"Boyfriend and girlfriend?"

"No. She's my fiancée," he said icily.

His face darkened with murderous intent.

"Elen and I got engaged overseas a month ago. She's my fiancée now."

"I know about your past relationship. But that's ancient history."

"Here's what I'm telling you - if you're smart, stay far away from Ele. Otherwise, don't blame me for being ruthless!"

"Crushing you would be easier than stepping on an ant!"

With that, he left.

Fiancée...

I stood frozen in the room, unable to move.

Hearing those words - fiancée - my heart shattered.

My mind went blank for seconds, blood draining from my body. Even the liver pain faded to nothing.

All I could think about was that word: fiancée.

Earlier when I heard how Luciano addressed Elen, I'd guessed they were close.

But I never imagined they were engaged!

Elen truly belonged to another man now!

From the day I first loved Elen,

From the moment we got together,

My heart had room for her alone.

She was my only hope for the future.

I'd imagined countless futures for us.

But never imagined another man in her life!

What should I do?

Should I let go...

No!

I have no chance to fight anymore.

I know I'm dying soon.

I have to let go.

I must accept that the man by her side isn't me!

I felt tears threatening to spill.

I drank another half bowl of broth.

The intense alcohol assaulted my liver.

I didn't cry.

The physical pain crushed my heartache.

Before, I didn't want to die.

Now, I just want death.

"Marco, you dare slack off here? The customers left ages ago - why aren't you out here?"

Just then.

The manager's voice came from the doorway.

A man in his thirties pushed open the door.

The hotpot restaurant manager.

He noticed my reddened eyes and sneered.

"Can't handle choking on some soup? Whatever, I heard what happened in here."

"Let me tell you something - you're not serving anymore. You'll be washing dishes, and your monthly salary is cut to 150$."

"After forty months, you can leave."

Shocked, I asked: "Why am I washing dishes?"

The manager laughed mockingly through his teeth.

"You still ask why? You ruined a customer's dress worth thousands, and you want to just walk away without responsibility?"

"Listen up - the customer filed a complaint. The restaurant paid the 5000$ compensation, but remember, this isn't a gift. It's coming out of your wages."

"Dishwashing pays 300$ a month, but we're deducting 150$ for the dress, so you'll only get 150$."

"We'll deduct 150$ every month for forty months to cover what we paid for you with interest."

"That's the deal. If you don't want to work or try to leave, we can sue you anytime! Got it clear?"