Chapter 1

At the press conference, a heavy steel pipe swung toward Chloe Sterling's face. I threw myself forward and blocked it, shattering my right arm.

She was the billionaire heiress of the Sterling family, and my secret lover of two years. But right in front of the flashing cameras, all she did was toss a five-hundred-dollar bill at my chest.

"Take it for medical expenses," she sneered in front of the crowd, treating me like nothing more than an insolent chauffeur. "That should buy you a decent meal."

Just like that, she discarded the man who had loved and protected her for two whole years, turning straight into the arms of Julian Thorne—the slick Wall Street prodigy she had been flaunting lately.

In the morning tabloids, they looked like a picture-perfect power couple. I was painted as the greedy, ungrateful servant who stepped out of line.

I tossed her dirty cash into the nearest trash can, severed all ties, and vanished completely from her life.

What she didn't know was that her dazzling financial genius was actually a calculating vulture, quietly orchestrating a hostile takeover to drain her family dry.

A week later, Chloe began blowing up my phone. I never answered.

Eventually, she knelt outside my door, sobbing and begging for forgiveness.

I didn't even open the latch.

She made her choice. Now, she had to bear the consequences alone.

"He’s just my family's driver. Taking a hit for his employer is literally his job."

Chloe's icy voice cut straight through the deafening chaos of the underground garage. I clutched my limp right arm with my left hand, agonizing pain shooting through my shoulder.

Only minutes earlier, three masked men wielding weapons had ambushed us from the shadows. Their target was obvious: Chloe.

Without thinking, I had shielded her body with mine, throwing up a classic Wing Chun bong sau to deflect a steel pipe aimed directly at her skull.

The brute force snapped my bone on impact.

Now, police officers and eager reporters swarmed around us, blinding us with non-stop camera flashes.

Beside Chloe stood a man dressed in a bespoke Italian suit: Julian Thorne.

A Wall Street rising star who had recently returned to the city, and Chloe’s newly minted "special friend."

Julian draped his coat gently around Chloe’s trembling shoulders. When he glanced at me, his eyes held nothing but smug amusement and veiled contempt.

"Well, Chloe," Julian drawled smoothly, "your driver is certainly loyal."

Chloe’s posture stiffened for a split second before she slipped right back into her haughty heiress persona.

She reached into her assistant's luxury bag, pulled out a stack of cash, and walked over to me.

"Good job today. Here’s five hundred bucks. Go see a doctor."

She shoved the bills into my breast pocket. The reporters instantly went wild, shutters snapping in a frantic frenzy.

"Miss Sterling, what is your relationship with this driver?"

"Mr. Thorne, did you stay by her side to protect her as well?"

I stared at the woman before me—a face I had known intimately for two years.

For seven hundred and thirty days, I had stayed by her side under the guise of her personal bodyguard and chauffeur.

I didn't say a word. Using my uninjured left hand, I pulled the five hundred dollars from my pocket.

Right in front of the reporters, the cameras, and Chloe herself, I dropped the cash into the trash can next to us.

Then, I turned and walked straight through the crowd without looking back.

Behind me, Chloe’s furious voice shrieked, "Ethan! How dare you!"

I didn't slow down for a second.

That very night, I packed a few basic clothes into a duffel bag and walked out of the Sterling estate.

It was a mansion I had lived in for two years, yet I left behind not a single personal trace.

My phone buzzed relentlessly with incoming calls and texts from Chloe.

Ethan, what kind of tantrum are you throwing? Get back here right now!

Are you seriously ghosting me over nothing? Grow up!

I only said that so Julian wouldn't get suspicious! Can’t you see the bigger picture? He’s an essential business partner for my family!

Staring at the texts, I let out a dry, humorless chuckle and powered off the device.

My broken arm was throbbing fiercely, inflammation setting in.

I walked into a twenty-four-hour pharmacy on the corner, intending to grab some painkillers and basic bandages.

Suddenly, a girl in traditional training clothes and a sleek ponytail popped her head out from behind the shelves.

The moment she saw the blood-soaked wrapping on my arm, her eyebrows knit into a tight frown.

"Ethan? What happened to your arm?!"

It was Mia Lin, my master’s daughter and my fellow disciple.

Without waiting for an answer, she grabbed my wrist, gently peeling back the bloody gauze.

When she saw the nasty swelling and torn flesh, tears welled up in her eyes.

"Who did this to you? It's broken! Why haven't you gone to the ER?!"

She quickly fished a small porcelain jar from her cloth tote bag and poured out a rich, herbal balm.

Her touch was remarkably tender as she smoothed the salve over my skin. A cool, soothing sensation instantly smothered the burning agony.

"This is the bone-setting ointment Dad brewed himself. It's the only thing that works on trauma like this," she grumbled softly under her breath. "I warned you years ago that the Sterling princess was bad news, but you never listened."

"Now look at you. You let her wreck you."

Watching her focused expression, something cold inside my chest thawed.

In two entire years, Chloe had never once asked if I got hurt during my morning training. She had never noticed the thick calluses on my knuckles.

All she ever did was gaze at me with those mesmerizing eyes and whisper, Ethan, as long as you're here, I'm never afraid.

Looking back now, of course she wasn't afraid. She knew that no matter what hell came her way, I would always step up to take the bullet.

I wasn't her lover. I was just her favorite human shield.

"What are your plans now?" Mia asked softly after wrapping a clean bandage around my forearm.

I stared out the window at the dazzling neon skyline. "Find a place to crash. Rest. Plan my next move."

"Are you going back to her?" she asked hesitantly.

I shook my head, my voice completely flat, as if speaking about a stranger.

"Never."