And I Would Never, Ever Look Back(Maren's POV)

I had scraped and saved every penny, wanting to give him a good life, wanting to buy us a wedding home.

But the money always vanished the moment it went into the hospital where my adoptive mother was being treated—gone without a trace, like a stone dropped into the sea.

He watched me, day after day, get by on less than five hours of sleep, breaking my back fixing water pipes, running myself ragged to pay for my mother's illness, and still finding ways to buy him gifts and surprise him.

And he said nothing—then turned around and sank tens of millions into opening a beauty salon for his fiancée.

"Pay up, or you can kiss your job and your reputation goodbye!"

The receptionist snapped the words out viciously.

I stared at her in disbelief, wanting nothing more than to tear into her.

But she kept going.

"You'd better understand what kind of families Valentine and Clementine come from. Crushing you is as easy as crushing an ant!"

The retort lodged in my throat. My heart was pounding.

But I didn't dare curse anymore.

Mama Diane was gravely ill. She needed money. I couldn't afford to lose my job or my name.

But a hundred thousand dollars... there was no way on earth I could ever pay that.

I bit my lip and sank into a long silence.

"Enough. There's clearly something wrong with her head—forget the money."

Valentine spoke slowly.

But I felt no relief at all. The knot of fury lodged in my chest ached so badly my heart hurt.

"Still, you nearly hurt our child. You owe us an apology!"

He knew it wasn't my fault!

My breathing turned ragged, and the anger twisted the ache in my heart even tighter.

I lifted my head in disbelief, and his blue eyes held nothing but impatience, every inch of them saying:

Enough. I've helped you plenty. Just apologize and get out.

Thick, churning rage rolled through me, impossible to push down. My fingers trembled. And then I laughed.

"I've changed my mind."

Clementine's lips curved into a victorious smile.

But in the next instant, my palm came down hard across Asher's face.

"Back then, I should have left you in that dark alley—left you for your so-called fiancée to come save. She could've saved herself a corpse!"

A red mark bloomed across Valentine's cheek, and his face went slack with shock.

I lifted my chin, and with their curses raining down at my back, I walked out of NCI Group with my head held high.

Asher was dead.

And I would never, ever look back.

By the time I reached St. Jude's Hospital, it was eleven at night.

Mama Diane opened her eyes, half-asleep, her voice a little confused.

"Asher?"

I was silent for a moment, then said, "It's me, Mama Diane."

Her eyes opened fully, and she smiled up at me. "I thought Asher had come by. You're always so busy, so he's the one who keeps coming to look after me."

Warming to the subject, she patted my hand.

"I know his background's a mystery, but all these years, I've seen with my own eyes how good he's been to you. Trust me—he'll make a wonderful husband."

Mama Diane's hand wasn't soft, but it was warm, warm as light.

A belated melancholy settled over me, and I couldn't help but cut her off.

"Mama, he's not coming anymore."

She paused. "A little busy is fine. I can take care of myself."

"We're not getting married either," I said.

Mama Diane fell quiet for a while. Her deep brown eyes clouded with confusion, then with something like bitter hatred. She murmured twice, then closed her eyes, as if drifting off to sleep.

But a single tear slid down from the corner of her eye.

"It's all my fault. My illness has been nothing but a burden on you."

I gripped Mama Diane's hand tightly.

"No! It's his fault, Mama. He lied to us. His name isn't even Asher—it's Valentine."

She said nothing.

I kept watch a while longer, and only once her breathing had evened out did I slip quietly out of the room.

I was a child Mama Diane had taken in off the street.

She told me that when she found me, I was thinner than a newborn kitten. She poured her whole heart into raising me, raising me into what I am now—strong as an ox.

So when I grew up and came across Valentine, injured and unconscious, it was that same softness in me that made me save him.

And it turned out to be the most catastrophic mistake of my life.

A man like that—he should have been left in a gutter to rot and stink.

My phone suddenly lit up with a message.

[You were completely out of line today—you actually hit me. I'm going to be very busy for a while, so you'd better stop coming around and ruining my plans. We'll settle the score when I get home.]

Ha? Busy marrying Clementine?

How had I never seen it before—that he was this shameless? How could he say, with a straight face, that he was coming back to settle the score with me?

Disgust rose in my throat. I fired back.

[Ugh! You scum. You make me sick. You want to settle a score with me? Show your face in front of me again and you'll get another slap!]

His reply came back lightning-fast.

[You think you walked out of there today on your own? Who do you think was helping you? Maren, stop being so naive and wise up!]

My fingers shook with rage.

[Go to hell! We are over!]

Block. Delete.

There. The world was finally at peace.

And yet.

The next day.

I found out just how premature my relief had been.

First thing in the morning, a nurse came into the room and set down a patient billing statement.

"Room 82, please contact Patient Financial Services to settle your bill by the end of today."

Printed across the statement, stark and plain: three thousand dollars.

I only had two thousand in my account right now—but it was fine. I'd just pick up a job, and that would cover it.

Except when I rushed over to the company—

They threw me and my toolbox out of the building.

"We have no use for an unskilled worker like you. You're fired!"

A bad feeling crept over me. I asked at several more companies, and the answer was always, without exception, the same.

Get lost.

In an instant, it was as if ice water had been dumped over me. All I could do was go to Brenda, the agent I occasionally picked up side jobs through.

But she told me to get lost too.

I finally couldn't take it anymore and asked.

"Did someone say something?"

Brenda's blond hair practically bristled. She jabbed a finger right at my nose and lit into me.

"You've got the nerve to ask me? Have you lost your mind? You'll pick a fight with anyone, won't you! Dumb as a mule! Now get out!"

Spittle flew into my face as she screamed at me, and panic began gnawing at me too.

No payment, no way to cover the hospital bill—Mama Diane would be moved out of the ICU!

And of course, that was exactly when the hospital called.

"Miss Foster, your mother's condition is critical. She needs surgery immediately, but we haven't completed financial review. If financial clearance isn't secured within the hour, the surgery cannot be scheduled. St. Jude's Hospital will not be held responsible for any consequences."

My eyes went wide, and I scrambled to stop them.

"No, no, no—the money will come through soon! Please, operate on her first!"

But the voice on the other end was ice-cold.

"Without completed financial review, the surgery cannot be scheduled."

I wanted to beg a little more.

But the line had already gone dead, decisively cut off.

In that moment, an enormous panic swallowed me whole. No payment, no job—what was I going to do? What was I supposed to do?

No, no, no—I could not lose Mama Diane!

Right—there was still Valentine. He'd cost me a fortune back then, and now that he was a nobleman again, he threw around tens of millions without blinking.

He'd spent all those years with Mama Diane. They were close. He would help. He would help.