Chapter 1

On the eve of our engagement, half my face was burned in a car race.

For three months, I endured the excruciating pain of skin grafts. My girlfriend stood by my side throughout my recovery, never leaving me.

Just as I emerged from the darkness and decided to get married, I discovered that my former rival not only escaped punishment but was now cozying up to my girlfriend, both of them smiling contentedly.

"Sorry you had to sleep next to that ugly freak, babe."

"It's okay. If it helps you achieve your dream, this small sacrifice means nothing. See? With him out of the picture, you're number one."

It turns out her presence wasn't to light my way, but to help the company cover up the truth.

I fled from her watchful eye, climbed into a luxury car, and decided to punish the guilty with my own hands.

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1

In the hospital, my legs trembled as I waited for the imminent debridement.

My girlfriend Callie stared at her hands, showing no emotion.

Three months ago, in a car race, my rival had figured out my driving habits and scattered nails on the track in advance.

At high speed, the moment my tire burst, I crashed into the guardrail and burst into flames.

In the blaze, I saw my girlfriend rushing towards me before I lost consciousness. When I woke up, I was already in the hospital.

Half of my face was burned beyond recognition, and my crucial right hand wasn't spared either.For the past three months, I've had to return to the hospital periodically to have old skin removed, undergo debridement, and allow new skin to grow.

This torture would have been unbearable without my girlfriend's companionship.

My screams of agony echoed through the corridor outside the examination room. By the time I emerged, my clothes were drenched in sweat.

Callie pressed her lips together, helped me sit down, then quickly got up to speak with the doctor, closing the door behind her.

But today, the wind was strong, and the door didn't shut completely.

Through the gap, I could see Callie sitting there, her face drained of all color. I felt a pang of sympathy for her.

I guessed my injuries had frightened her again.

But their conversation left me puzzled.

"Miss, his injuries aren't that severe. I've told you before, he could recover just by applying medication at home. Even if you're worried, you shouldn't keep bringing him in for debridement."

"You don't understand. This way, he'll be grateful to me, and let me stay by his side."

A chill ran down my spine. Could it be that the suffering I'd endured was Callie's deliberate doing?

The doctor shook his head and wiped away some sweat.

"Here's the medical disclosure form. Sign it, please. The next appointment will be in a month. Miss, let me give you some advice – at least use some anesthetic on him."

Callie's voice was cold and clear.

"That would affect his brain. He's a race car driver; we can't compromise his judgment."The girlfriend signed the document and stood up. I quickly turned my head, pretending I hadn't heard anything.

Outside the wall, I squeezed my own hand, forcing myself to stay calm.

For the past few months, Callie had been taking care of all my daily needs. I shouldn't doubt her.

To shield me from outside distractions, she had taken away my phone and was managing my accounts.

I handed over my bank card for her to manage, which she only accepted after repeated refusals. After all, my medical bills were high, and I didn't want her to struggle because of financial reasons.

Back home, my girlfriend carefully changed my dressings. As she unbuttoned my shirt, the concern in her eyes somewhat put my mind at ease.

Just as she said, the anesthesia would affect my sensitivity, and the debridement was to help me recover better.

This bit of suffering was nothing.

I squeezed Callie's hand, telling her not to worry.

After changing the dressing, seeing she was about to leave, I tiredly asked.

"How's the evidence collection for the company going? Do you need me to testify?"

Callie shot me a startled glance, her hands shaking as she tidied up the bottles and jars. A bottle of iodine spilled across the floor.

She hurriedly cleaned up the mess, casually replying to me.

"It's almost done, still in progress."

"Don't worry, I'll take care of everything for you."

This car accident wasn't simple. I've been racing for years; if it wasn't deliberate, such a major accident wouldn't have happened.

Zoran, from the same company, was the prime suspect.

Without me, he'd be number one, representing the company in races, winning more prize money and sponsorships.

Callie's earlier hesitation rekindled my doubts.

Could things not be going smoothly?

Since my accident, fearing I'd be upset, she'd cut off all my contact with the outside world.

She was handling everything for me externally.

Uneasy, I secretly pulled out a computer that had been idle for ten years, the only thing in the house that could access information.

Callie thought it was broken and had casually stuffed it in a cabinet.

Online, news of my car accident was everywhere, as today was the day of the company's press conference.

Callie sat in the main seat, dressed in white, and beside her was none other than Zoran.Callie immediately issued a statement of understanding on my behalf, confirming that the accident was entirely due to my error.

The company swiftly announced that I would be permanently retiring from the racing world, and they would be promoting Zoran to take my place.

While expressing regret, Callie stated that Zoran was more suited for racing than I was, and that she would be cheering for his success on behalf of both of us.

In just a few minutes, the press conference had completely erased my suffering.

I couldn't understand why my girlfriend would make such a decision without consulting me.

As I scrolled through my own account, my heart tightened more and more.

Starting three months ago, bit by bit, my account was filled with messages supporting Zoran, leveraging my reputation.

I could imagine countless nights of my wound cleaning and rehabilitation, with Callie sitting in the hospital, listening to my screams of agony while typing on her keyboard to encourage Zoran.

Before shutting down the computer, I took a glance at my bank account. Sure enough, only $3.20 remained in the balance.

When Callie came home, I had prepared dinner for her, just like before.

After taking a bite, I casually asked her.

"Is there enough money left?"

She replied, keeping her head down.

"It's all gone. We'll need more soon."

Seeing that I didn't respond, she continued explaining without looking up, talking to herself."Medical expenses for the hospital surgery haven't been fully covered yet, but I bought you some nutritional supplements."

Looking at the piles of vitamins on the floor, I hadn't completely given up hope.

"How about buying some cherries? I've been craving them lately."

She finally looked up, glaring at me with obvious irritation.

"They're too expensive. Let's wait a bit longer."

After dinner, under the pretense of going out for a walk, I snuck off to the nearest clinic.

I found a random doctor and asked about my wound after unwrapping it.

The doctor's words confirmed my suspicions.

This type of injury required the use of equipment for proper recovery.

But for three months, I, Winters, hadn't received any such treatment. My muscles were starting to show signs of atrophy.

If not addressed soon, I might never be able to hold a steering wheel again.

Indeed, Callie was destroying me, and I hadn't suspected a thing all this time.

Just as I stepped out of the hospital doors, I saw Callie running towards me.

She hugged me tightly, crying pitifully.

"Where did you go? I thought you might have done something rash."

It was very dark, and she couldn't see my expression clearly.

I made an excuse about having a stomachache, which seemed to ease her mind.

The next day, I logged onto my computer again. The media had captured footage of my interaction with Callie at the hospital entrance last night.