Part 2The Runaway Bride's Regret

An impatient voice came through the phone.

"Are you done yet? I've told you, there's nothing going on between us. It's bad enough that your mind's in the gutter, but now you're deliberately spreading lies about us? Nathan, what happened to you?

"Fine. My dad already called and chewed me out. Hurry up and sort out the investment. I'll come back once I'm done talking some sense into Ry."

Listening to her act so high and mighty, I found the whole thing ridiculous.

She was the one who'd said she was just a reserved person and begged me to be patient with her. Then she'd turned around and laughed and joked with her male student.

She was the one who'd used work as an excuse to ignore my birthday, yet she'd gone out of her way to prepare exquisite gifts for her student.

And she was the one who'd humiliated me in front of everyone at our wedding, all for someone else's happiness.

I'd given her countless chances to choose.

And she'd chosen to humiliate me by running out on our wedding in front of everyone.

I'd loved her, but that was over now.

I was going to block and delete her, but the call hadn't ended. Then I heard Ryan's taunting voice.

"Professor, who lasts longer? Me or your fiancé?"

"...You."

I raised an eyebrow and hit record.

Then I contacted the private investigator who'd been staking out Evelyn's villa. "Tonight, record everything they do. Every position, from start to finish."

Evelyn, you can come back, but there'll be no one left behind you.

Sure enough, at five in the morning, Richard forced her to come back to my place.

The moment she walked in, she threw several big boxes of luxury gifts at me. "Nathan! How long are you going to keep pushing my dad? You're going after the company over a few boxes of designer stuff? You're mixing business with personal grudges. You were never like this before.

"You're not young anymore. Would it kill you to play fewer games?"

Every word was sharp, like she was deliberately stabbing me with a knife.

I sneered, stepped forward, and ripped open her shirt, revealing the bite mark underneath.

Evelyn froze. "Ry's cat bit me..."

I scoffed, remembering how Evelyn had hidden the fact that she was the Monroe family's eldest daughter when she first pursued me.

I'd been touched by her awkward, inexperienced way of chasing me.

Later, when she became so self-righteous, devoted herself entirely to research, and treated money like dirt, I was the one funding her behind the scenes.

I even brought in my friends from our circle to invest and back her.

And with a few careless words, she'd written me off as a jealous husband throwing a fit.

Her phone rang. She answered it and hurried off again.

Before leaving, she warned me, "Nathan, if you still want me to marry you, be good and stay out of trouble. Hurry up and fix the company's problem. I don't have time to keep fighting with you."

Three minutes later, Ryan posted again.

[Trained my crush like a dog. She comes running whenever I call.]

My gaze sharpened. I turned and sent a message to the group chat of Kingswell's rich heirs.

"Cut off all funding for Evelyn Monroe's lab."

Replies flooded in within seconds. "Got it, Nate."

She wanted to help Ryan shoot straight to the top? Then I'd give her what she wanted.

But without the basic funding, how long could they last?

What I didn't expect was a commotion downstairs at my company the next afternoon.

My assistant, Owen, came running in, drenched in sweat. "Mr. Hayes, we've got a problem! Professor Monroe brought a bunch of students and lab staff to the company. They're demanding an explanation!"

I narrowed my eyes and looked down through the glass skylight.

I clearly saw more than a dozen people holding up banners.

[Nathan Hayes, capitalist! Stop holding science hostage!]

[Capitalists, get out of research funding!]

...

I steadied my racing heart and told security downstairs to let them in.

Ten seconds later, more than a dozen people stormed into my office.

The moment Ryan saw me, he dropped to his knees with a thud. Tears streaming down his face, he slapped himself as he sobbed. "Mr. Hayes, I know you've never liked me. You can have people beat me, curse me, even ruin my face, but you can't get other people to pull funding just because you're jealous!

"If you're angry, then slap me yourself!"

The sound of slaps rang through the whole room.

Evelyn rushed forward and, heartbroken, pulled him to his feet. "Ry, stand up straight! This has nothing to do with you!"

Then she glared at me, her voice icy. "Nathan, pulling that funding is a matter of national importance. It's not some rich capitalist's plaything!"

I said nothing and coldly watched the show.

The moment Evelyn finished, the students and researchers behind her were whipped into a frenzy.

Some of them shoved their phones in my face to livestream, shouting in outrage, "Everyone, we're live! A capitalist is blocking scientific progress and bullying students!"

Others snuck up behind me with red paint and deliberately splashed it on me.

I was soaked from head to toe. The sticky paint spread over every inch of me.

And Ryan, refusing to give up, knelt in front of me again.

Facing the camera, he ripped off the bandage on his face.

The moment the horrifying scar was revealed, everyone gasped.

I looked down at him coolly.

"Mr. Hayes, please, just let us go! I know this all started because of me. I'll do whatever you say!"

Then he crawled over to me on his knees and whispered, "Nathan, so what if your parents are the richest family in Kingswell? The thing Professor Monroe hates most is rich, powerful people like you! She's going to be mine. You can't take her from me."

The next second, in a show he'd staged himself, he pulled out a hidden knife and stabbed himself in the stomach.