Part 2Showdown, I'm not trash, I'm rich

Two security guards gripped my arms, their hold tight, as if escorting a criminal.

That’s how I was thrown out of the company I had built with my own hands.

At the company entrance, a swarm of reporters descended like sharks sensing blood in the water.

Flashbulbs popped relentlessly, blinding me.

“Liam Stone! Did you really kill Julian Thorne out of jealousy?”

“What do you have to say about Ms. Hayes’s accusations?”

“Do you think he stole your wife?”

A fan, whose identity I didn’t know, violently smashed a bubble tea over my head.

The sticky liquid ran down my hair, leaving me utterly disheveled.

The security guards only made a token attempt to block them, then let me be surrounded by reporters.

I didn't say a word.

I pushed through the crowd, walking forward one step at a time.

My back was straight. It was my last shred of dignity.

Back at the mansion, the butler was already waiting at the door.

He pointed to a few worn-out boxes on the lawn.

“Sir, the missus instructed that these are your belongings. Take them and leave.”

All my luggage—just those old boxes I’d used during college—were tossed on the lawn.

The automatic sprinklers were on, cold water drenching the boxes, and me.

I looked up and saw Isabella standing on the second-floor balcony.

She stood with her arms crossed, looking down at me, as if enjoying a good show.

“Liam, sign this.”

She threw a document down from upstairs.

The paper landed at my feet, immediately soaked by the water.

Divorce papers.

I was to leave with absolutely nothing.

The house, cars, and shares she had previously “given” me were all being reclaimed.

All my personal bank accounts and credit cards were also frozen.

She wanted to strip me of everything.

I bent down and picked up the drenched agreement.

The words on it had blurred, a massive mockery.

“Everything you’re doing, is it all for that vegetable?” I looked up and asked her.

Isabella’s face held a twisted smile.

“You’re not even fit to utter his name. Liam, you destroyed my light, so I’m going to destroy everything you have. I want you to rot in the gutters like a stray dog.”

The sky clouded over.

Raindrops started falling, quickly turning into a downpour.

I said nothing more, dragging my chipped suitcase out of the mansion gates.

The rainwater, mixed with the bubble tea from my hair, ran into my mouth—sweet and bitter.

I knew this wasn’t the end.

What Isabella wanted was my life.