His "True Love" Was Fake... So Was My Corpse, Sucker! - Chapter 116: Chapter 116
You are reading His "True Love" Was Fake... So Was My Corpse, Sucker!, Chapter 116: Chapter 116. Read more chapters of His "True Love" Was Fake... So Was My Corpse, Sucker!.
Marcus cut off Ryan Corporation's funding with a single phone call, his hangover making his voice even more brutal than intended.
He hadn't wanted to stoop to such tactics. But drunk last night, he'd called me repeatedly as usual, only to find himself blocked on every platform.
Panicking, he'd sent a message demanding answers, receiving the prompt that I had already blocked him.
Suddenly Marcus realized he had no way to contact me. He'd never been part of my social circle, and my friends seemed to dislike him intensely, closing ranks to protect me from further harm.
"Marcus, check your Instagram! That idiot Olivia is actually showing off her relationship online, with comments full of congratulations!" Someone held up their phone in disbelief during their regular Friday happy hour.
Marcus snatched the phone, staring at the photo with an intensity that startled everyone at the table.
Caleb and I wore bright matching outfits, drawing a huge heart in the sand, standing on either side making peace signs and smiling like teenagers. The caption read: "Second chance at first love #grateful #miracleshappen"
Anyone seeing this photo would sigh at our perfect relationship. The happiness radiating from the screen was undeniable.
Jealousy took root in his heart. Marcus felt consumed by sourness, the air seeming to vanish, leaving him unable to breathe. His chest tightened painfully.
"So this is the legendary college boyfriend she was crazy about? They're back together? Didn't you say he died?" One of his friends nudged another, eyebrows raised.
"They do look good together. Better this way—she won't be hanging around Marcus anymore. That poor girl deserves a break after everything." The comment was meant to be supportive but landed like a blow.
His friends discussed the photo animatedly. Marcus couldn't stand their cutting words anymore, gritting his teeth as he shattered the wine glass in his hand, shards embedding in his palm.
"Shut up!" he bellowed, silencing the entire restaurant.
Silence fell as everyone noticed his extreme reaction, sensing something was off. Someone asked incredulously:
"Marcus, you haven't fallen for that woman, have you? After how you treated her?"
The question threw Marcus's heart into chaos, his mind a tangled mess, something threatening to break free from the careful compartments he'd built.
He even felt uncomfortable hearing them insult me—the same insults he'd encouraged just weeks ago.
But he could only deny it frantically: "Don't be ridiculous! How could I fall for someone like her!"
Just as he finished speaking, urgent knocking came at the private dining room door.
The server opened it to reveal the Ryans, my parents, looking desperate and disheveled despite their expensive clothing.
They looked terrible. Learning their daughter had secretly divorced and that poor boy had returned from abroad to reunite with me had been shocking enough.
The company was barely surviving, and they'd finally secured a deal only to find the funding cut off—they couldn't even pay the deposit that was due tomorrow.
The couple had no choice but to beg Marcus, pride abandoned in the face of financial ruin.
"Marcus, we're family—we've been family. My daughter treated you well enough." My father's voice held none of its usual authority. "You've sent her to the hospital multiple times, and we've always turned a blind eye. You can't be so heartless now. Can you transfer some funds to Ryan Corp?"
My father rubbed his hands together, bargaining awkwardly, looking like the desperate man he truly was beneath the facade of power.
Marcus felt sick seeing their greedy faces—treating their daughter like merchandise, ignoring her suffering, caring only about profit. How had he never seen their true nature before?
"Money's possible, but begging me is useless." His voice was cold as winter. "If you can find Olivia and have her ask me personally, I might consider it."
Hearing there was still hope, my mother immediately nodded, pulling out an old phone from her Hermès handbag with a blinking screen.
She smiled ingratiatingly, her voice cold despite the sweetened words: "I knew this day would come. I installed a tracking system in her phone—I can monitor her location in real-time. I'll take you there now."
"Marcus, as long as you help us through this crisis, you can do whatever you want with my daughter." Her calculating eyes held no maternal warmth whatsoever.
Marcus smirked sarcastically, watching the blinking location icon on screen, casually saying:
"Let's go. Right now."
He hadn't wanted to stoop to such tactics. But drunk last night, he'd called me repeatedly as usual, only to find himself blocked on every platform.
Panicking, he'd sent a message demanding answers, receiving the prompt that I had already blocked him.
Suddenly Marcus realized he had no way to contact me. He'd never been part of my social circle, and my friends seemed to dislike him intensely, closing ranks to protect me from further harm.
"Marcus, check your Instagram! That idiot Olivia is actually showing off her relationship online, with comments full of congratulations!" Someone held up their phone in disbelief during their regular Friday happy hour.
Marcus snatched the phone, staring at the photo with an intensity that startled everyone at the table.
Caleb and I wore bright matching outfits, drawing a huge heart in the sand, standing on either side making peace signs and smiling like teenagers. The caption read: "Second chance at first love #grateful #miracleshappen"
Anyone seeing this photo would sigh at our perfect relationship. The happiness radiating from the screen was undeniable.
Jealousy took root in his heart. Marcus felt consumed by sourness, the air seeming to vanish, leaving him unable to breathe. His chest tightened painfully.
"So this is the legendary college boyfriend she was crazy about? They're back together? Didn't you say he died?" One of his friends nudged another, eyebrows raised.
"They do look good together. Better this way—she won't be hanging around Marcus anymore. That poor girl deserves a break after everything." The comment was meant to be supportive but landed like a blow.
His friends discussed the photo animatedly. Marcus couldn't stand their cutting words anymore, gritting his teeth as he shattered the wine glass in his hand, shards embedding in his palm.
"Shut up!" he bellowed, silencing the entire restaurant.
Silence fell as everyone noticed his extreme reaction, sensing something was off. Someone asked incredulously:
"Marcus, you haven't fallen for that woman, have you? After how you treated her?"
The question threw Marcus's heart into chaos, his mind a tangled mess, something threatening to break free from the careful compartments he'd built.
He even felt uncomfortable hearing them insult me—the same insults he'd encouraged just weeks ago.
But he could only deny it frantically: "Don't be ridiculous! How could I fall for someone like her!"
Just as he finished speaking, urgent knocking came at the private dining room door.
The server opened it to reveal the Ryans, my parents, looking desperate and disheveled despite their expensive clothing.
They looked terrible. Learning their daughter had secretly divorced and that poor boy had returned from abroad to reunite with me had been shocking enough.
The company was barely surviving, and they'd finally secured a deal only to find the funding cut off—they couldn't even pay the deposit that was due tomorrow.
The couple had no choice but to beg Marcus, pride abandoned in the face of financial ruin.
"Marcus, we're family—we've been family. My daughter treated you well enough." My father's voice held none of its usual authority. "You've sent her to the hospital multiple times, and we've always turned a blind eye. You can't be so heartless now. Can you transfer some funds to Ryan Corp?"
My father rubbed his hands together, bargaining awkwardly, looking like the desperate man he truly was beneath the facade of power.
Marcus felt sick seeing their greedy faces—treating their daughter like merchandise, ignoring her suffering, caring only about profit. How had he never seen their true nature before?
"Money's possible, but begging me is useless." His voice was cold as winter. "If you can find Olivia and have her ask me personally, I might consider it."
Hearing there was still hope, my mother immediately nodded, pulling out an old phone from her Hermès handbag with a blinking screen.
She smiled ingratiatingly, her voice cold despite the sweetened words: "I knew this day would come. I installed a tracking system in her phone—I can monitor her location in real-time. I'll take you there now."
"Marcus, as long as you help us through this crisis, you can do whatever you want with my daughter." Her calculating eyes held no maternal warmth whatsoever.
Marcus smirked sarcastically, watching the blinking location icon on screen, casually saying:
"Let's go. Right now."
End of His "True Love" Was Fake... So Was My Corpse, Sucker! Chapter 116. Continue reading Chapter 117 or return to His "True Love" Was Fake... So Was My Corpse, Sucker! book page.