Chapter 3

“Get out. I don’t want to see you anymore.” Racquelle snatched the salmon congee from my hands, dismissing me with a cold stare. I nodded, “Alright,” and dragged my exhausted body back to the adjacent ward. Rest was impossible, however. As general manager of the Smith Group, I still had to manage the chaos left by Racquelle’s inaction. My assistant called as I pulled out my phone. “Mr. Smith, Ms. Smith needs to sign some documents, but I can’t reach her…” This was all too familiar. “Send them to me. I’ll handle it.”

Gerald Smith—Racquelle’s biological father and my adoptive father—had assigned these projects to train her to lead the Smith Group. Instead, she focused entirely on her romance with Vernon, showing no interest in the business. Whenever urgent matters arose, she offloaded them onto me before resuming her leisure activities. Ironically, this neglect had benefited me. My name and reputation were now well-known in the industry, securing my future prospects even outside the Smith Group.

By 1:30 AM, I had finished reviewing the documents. As I started toward the bathroom, I heard Racquelle’s furious shouting from the next room. “Dad, I’m twenty! An adult! Why keep that useless idiot around? Are you spying on me? I hope he drops dead! It’s so annoying! Why do you trust him so much? Who’s the biological child now, me or him?” She stormed out, and upon seeing me, slapped me across the face. My ears rang, dizziness washing over me.

“How dare you eavesdrop!” she shrieked.

Rubbing my stinging cheek, I replied calmly, “I was passing by.”

“Hah! Who are you fooling, Joshua? You’re here for our wealth, trying to become my fiancé, huh? You’re not worthy!” She unleashed a torrent of hateful curses before leaving.

I watched calmly. Over the past ten years with the Smiths, Racquelle had consistently displayed her spoiled, domineering nature. To rid herself of me, she had once stabbed herself, accusing me of assault; she had even slipped sleeping pills into my drink. At one point, I required four gastric lavages before stabilizing. Relatives and friends despised me, calling me a lapdog, a pathetic figure Racquelle couldn't shake. But I had no regrets. I sacrificed ten years of my life for Julianna’s expensive medical treatment, her rare illness leaving me with few options. My freedom was a small price to pay. In a month, this cruel existence would end. I would finally have my own life. As for Racquelle… I would never look at her again.