A Heart Given Wrong

Married in secret for five years, Yvonne Singer always thought I was just a washed-up nobody from a fallen family. What she didn't know was that I was the sole successor to Guzman Group, the world's largest venture capital firm.

She tricked me into attending a cocktail party for the sake of her male best friend, Francis Yorke, and forced me to toast my sworn rival.

Furious, I shattered the wineglass in my hand and snapped, "Yvonne, don't push me! Believe it or not, with a single word from me, your company can disappear from the stock market by tomorrow!"

Panic flickered in her eyes. The next second, she threw herself into my arms. "Honey, I just needed your help. I didn't mean to hurt you." She then personally fed me a hangover pill and gently escorted me to a private room.

When I woke up, I was hanging upside down from a drop tower. Francis slammed the switch. I was sent flying dozens of feet into the air, then plummeting straight down into the water.

As my consciousness began to waver, I forced myself to make an emergency call. "Mr. Chance, contact global media outlets. Before nightfall, I want headlines showing them begging on the streets!"

The moment I hung up, icy pool water swallowed me whole again.

Francis covered his mouth, laughing so hard he almost fell over. Beside him, Yvonne wore a smug smile on her face.

"Yvonne, did you hear that? William says he's going to make you beg on the streets. Who does he think he is?"

My sworn enemy, Zoey Malcom, chimed in with a mocking laugh. She pointed at me and asked, "Yvonne, is your husband's brain damaged or something? Calling global media outlets? Does he think he's the UN Secretary-General?"

The surrounding guests erupted into grating laughter. They looked at me as if looking at a clown making a fool of himself.

Yvonne's expression darkened. She felt I had humiliated her in public. Turning to Francis, she said coldly, "Fran, help him sober up. He's talking nonsense."

"Got it, Yvonne!"

Francis excitedly slammed his palm down on the red button at the control panel. The drop tower's seat jolted violently, hurling me back into the air at a terrifying speed.

The weightlessness made my stomach churn. The alcohol from the party mixed with the hangover pill I took, making me feel nauseous. I screamed, but my voice was drowned out by the wind.

Then, the seat dove downward even faster, crashing violently into the pool. Water exploded everywhere. The sharp scent of clorine filled my nose as the water engulfed me, making me cough violently.

I was strapped tightly to the seat and couldn't move. All I could do was watch as I was repeatedly flung upward and slammed down. Every ascent and plunge was suffocating torture.

I stared at Yvonne on the shore. She was the woman I had loved for five years.

Five years ago, my family's business faced a