Chapter 3

Kane's methods were clean, decisive, and shockingly fast.

That very afternoon, an explosive topic suddenly appeared on social media and instantly blew up across the whole internet.

The headline was lurid: "Prospective Heiress Demands Massive Prenup Payment, Fails, Then Flees With a Million Overnight!"

The attached photo was an engagement shot of me and Sebastian, with a screenshot of a one-million-dollar check transfer underneath it.

The poster claimed to be an insider close to the Cross family, bitterly condemning me as a materialistic, vain woman who'd thrown away years of love for money — who'd even fled with the cash the night before the wedding, leaving the Cross family humiliated.

The comment section was nothing but slut-shaming and vicious abuse aimed at me.

"Holy crap, this woman has no shame. She bailed for a million?"

"Feel so bad for Sebastian, treating a gold-digger that well and getting stabbed in the back."

"Someone dig up her info! Make sure she can never show her face in society again!"

I watched the endless stream of hateful comments refreshing on the tablet and laughed coldly.

So the Cross family were afraid I'd cause trouble. They'd struck first, trying to nail me to the pillory and strip me of any chance to speak.

"How does it feel?" Kane leaned against the doorframe with a glass of wine, watching me.

"Cheap tactics." I tossed the tablet aside, picked up my own phone, and logged into my verified, real-name social media account.

I didn't write a long defense. I just posted one photo.

In it, I was wearing a baggy hospital gown, my face pale as paper, my lower back wrapped in thick gauze with blood soaking through it. The sight was shocking.

The caption was a single line: "I didn't run from the wedding. I'm just learning how to live the rest of my life with only one kidney."

Tap. Send.

In under five minutes, the post shot straight to the trending list.

Everyone was stunned.

"Wait, what?! Missing a kidney?!"

"That wound looks terrifying — she just had surgery, right?"

"So the runaway-bride story turned into a kidney-harvesting story? This plot twist is insane!"

The Cross family PR team moved fast. Sebastian's mother — Mrs. Cross, the woman who'd always looked down her nose at everyone — replied directly in my comments from her main account:

"Susan, why are you playing the victim? You donated that kidney to Grace of your own free will! That million was the 'recovery fee' you demanded yourself! Now you've taken the money and come online to stir up the crowd. Do you have any conscience left?"

Her words sounded righteous, but they were full of holes.

My fingers flew across the screen. I immediately posted a second time.

It was a clip of high-definition dashcam footage.

In the video, on a wild, stormy night, two big men threw me onto a muddy highway like trash. My wound split open, and blood ran across the ground.

Caption: "Madam Cross, is this what you call 'taking the money of my own free will'?"

The moment that video dropped, the entire internet erupted.

Public opinion flipped in an instant.

"What the hell, that's literally attempted murder!"

"Dumping someone fresh out of surgery into a thunderstorm in the middle of the night — the Cross family are pure evil!"

"Boycott the Cross Group! Investigate the Cross family!"

The Cross Group's official account was buried under hundreds of thousands of furious comments, and the stock dipped in the closing minutes of trading.

I seized the momentum and typed out a third post, tagging Sebastian directly.

"Sebastian, do you dare show the whole internet the original copy of that Organ Donation Consent Form I signed in my own handwriting? Let everyone see exactly who's listed as the recipient on it."

Checkmate.

He'd buried that form in the marriage paperwork to trick me into signing it. Whether he produced it or refused to, his crime of fraudulent donation would be locked in.

The whole internet was waiting for Sebastian's response.

Ten minutes later, my phone rang.

It was Sebastian.

I hit accept and put it on speaker.

"Susan, you've grown a spine. You dare come after me online." Sebastian's voice carried a cold, murderous edge.

"Where's the original? Too scared to produce it?" I shot back, ice in my voice.

"Heh." Sean let out a cruel laugh. "I am scared. But are you brave enough to gamble with your parents' lives?"

My heart clenched. "What did you do?!"

From the other end came my mother's shrill, sobbing cry: "Susan! A whole gang of thugs came out of nowhere and smashed up our little diner! Your dad got beaten until he was coughing up blood, and now they've dragged him into a car!"

"Sebastian! You animal!" I screamed, losing control.

"Delete every post right now. Post a video saying you made it all up, that you're mentally ill. Otherwise, you'll never see your father again as long as you live!"

The line went dead.

My whole body went limp, and the phone slipped from my hand.

Despair flooded over me like a tide.