Part 1Showdown, I'm not trash, I'm rich

My wife, Isabella Hayes, knelt on the floor, her face pale, tears streaming down.

She was begging me to save Julian Thorne, the love of her life.

Her voice trembled, “Liam! Please! Save Julian! Just this once! I’ll wait on you hand and foot after this! I’ll even wash your socks!”

Five years. I had a terrible reputation in the Hayes family.

All because five years ago, Julian was severely injured while saving her and became a vegetable.

Now, the chip in his life support machine was about to fail.

The only replacement in existence was in my brother, Ryan Stone’s, hands.

I looked at her, my face expressionless, and dialed Ryan.

The call connected. I only said one sentence.

Hope flared in Isabella’s eyes.

Half an hour later, a sharp, prolonged beep echoed through the hospital.

Julian Thorne’s life support machine had stopped.

Isabella didn’t know that what I told my brother was: “Ryan, pull the plug.”

That long beep was the last straw for Isabella.

She lunged at me like a madwoman, her nails raking my face, leaving a bloody scratch.

“Liam! You bastard! You killed him!” Her voice was sharp and shrill, every word laced with hatred.

I didn’t flinch. The hospital hallway lights were stark white, illuminating my face and her twisted one.

Our five-year marriage was nothing more than a transaction.

I gave her money, she gave me the title of husband, convenient for maintaining her image as a tragically devoted woman.

“He should have been dead already,” I said calmly.

That sentence instantly ignited her fury.

Enraged, she started punching and kicking me.

Security guards rushed over and pulled her away.

She was still crying and screaming from a distance, cursing my whole family to die.

I turned and walked away, cold air filling my lungs. What was a little pain?

Compared to how she degraded me these past five years, this injury wasn’t even a scratch!

That night, Isabella’s retaliation arrived.

She posted a lengthy article online, titled: “A Heartbroken Woman’s Tearful Accusation.”

In the article, she portrayed herself as a saintly figure, and Julian Thorne as a hero who sacrificed for love.

And me? I was the devil who, out of jealousy, ruined everything for them.

The article went viral.

Overnight, I became public enemy number one.

My phone crashed from all the hateful messages.

Texts, SnapChat DMs—they were all filled with malicious curses.

“Ungrateful monster” and “backstabbing jerk” became my aliases.

My ID, home address, and company information were all doxxed online.

The texts were full of vicious curses; some threatened to burn down my house, others said they’d send me razor blades.

Some even said they’d dance on my mom’s grave—these people didn't even know who my mom was, yet they dared to say such things!

What was even more disgusting was that colleagues I’d helped at the company were now stabbing me in the back.

I saw someone post in a SnapChat group: “If I’d known Liam was this kind of person, I never would’ve let him help me with my proposal.”

Others chimed in: “Ms. Hayes should divorce him ASAP and leave him with absolutely nothing!”

I knew this was just the appetizer.

What Isabella wanted was for me to completely disappear.

The next morning, I went to Hayes Corporation as usual.

The receptionist looked at me like a moving pile of crap.

In the elevator, colleagues avoided me, whispering.

“That’s him, he’s utterly despicable.”

“Heard Ms. Hayes is divorcing him. Serves him right.”

I walked into my office. Isabella’s assistant came over to inform me.

“Mr. Stone, Ms. Hayes requests your presence in the conference room in ten minutes for an emergency board meeting.”

I sat at my desk, calmly adjusting my tie.

In five years, I had transformed a near-bankrupt Hayes Corporation into a multi-billion dollar giant.

Those leeches in the Hayes family—Uncle Robert embezzling funds, Uncle Mark keeping mistresses—who didn't I personally expose?

Now, it seemed, seeing my downfall, their chance to strike had come.

In the conference room, Isabella sat at the head of the table.

She wore a black pantsuit, with makeup designed to look haggard, but the triumph in her eyes couldn’t be hidden.

Beside her sat Uncle Robert, Uncle Mark, and several other veteran board members whose power I had stripped, all with smug satisfaction on their faces.

“Distinguished board members,” she began, her voice trembling, her acting skills impeccable, “Mr. Stone’s actions have severely damaged the company’s image. My benefactor, Julian Thorne, was killed by him.”

As soon as she finished speaking, an old executive I’d sidelined immediately jumped up.

“Exactly! He’s ruined Hayes Corporation’s reputation! He must be fired!”

“If clients knew we had someone like him, all our contracts would definitely fall through!” another chimed in.

Isabella looked pleased.

She turned to me, like a judge pronouncing a verdict.

“I propose that Liam Stone be immediately relieved of all his duties within the company. Let’s vote.”

It was a unanimous vote.

No one objected.

I didn’t utter a single word in my defense.

In their eyes, I was just a kept man.

Now, the owner of the meal ticket wanted it back. All I could do was leave.

Isabella looked at me, enunciating each word: “Liam, you’re fired. Now, immediately, get out.”