My girlfriend is locked in male assistant's home
I anxiously asked around among friends and was even ready to call the police.
However, I saw her activity on her assistant Callum Murray's Instagram.
【Boss came to my place specifically to discuss a project, but then the door lock suddenly broke.】
【Does this mean we'll be spending the night together? I'm so excited.】
I silently liked the post, and Claire immediately called me in a rage: "Don't you know what my Christmas bonus is? The daily wage I lose, you couldn't earn back in a week! So what if I didn't show up to the engagement party? What are you getting mad about? I really don't have time to hang out with your poor relatives."
My mother Abigail Holmes stood silently beside me, looking at the 30 kilograms of gold, eight sets of haute couture jewelry, and various real estate transfer agreements laid out in the private room.
She asked me somewhat awkwardly: "Finley, are these gifts embarrassing for you?"
I let out a cold laugh, my fingertips caressing the Bentley keys I had prepared for Claire, and replied coolly: "She's the one who doesn't know what's good for her."
*****
When Claire came back, I was playing games with friends in the living room.
She ignored everyone's enthusiastic greetings, shot me a fierce glare, and stomped upstairs in her high heels.
Even though the game volume was turned up to maximum, I could still hear the thunderous door slamming from upstairs.
My friend scratched his head and asked hesitantly: "Should we head out? You should go comfort her."
I scoffed: "What does she think she is?"
They looked shocked and silently gave me a thumbs up: "Finley, you've finally grown a backbone!"
In the past, Claire hated it when I played games with my friends.
She always said we were unambitious.
Because of this, I hadn't touched a gaming console for nearly two years. But today, I had a blast playing with my friends until dawn.
Glancing at the tightly shut bedroom door, I turned and headed straight to the guest room.
Just as I was drifting off to sleep, Claire burst through the door, rummaging through the closet for something.
Usually at times like this, I would have gotten up to help her look, but now I just wanted to lie there quietly.
After a series of clattering sounds, the room fell silent again.
I could hear Claire's rapid breathing behind me and feel her burning gaze fixed on me.
Suddenly, harsh light flooded the room as Claire flicked on the switch.
I instinctively covered my eyes.
She yanked off my blanket and demanded furiously: "Finley, do you realize your mistake?"
Looking at her frantic appearance, I found it laughable.
I hadn't even questioned why she missed the engagement party, let alone brought up her inexplicably spending the night with Callum, yet here she was interrogating me.
I looked at her with cold eyes: "What did I do wrong?"
She trembled with rage, grabbed the pillow from the bedside and hurled it at me: "I'm giving you a chance, and you're still making excuses? Don't come crawling back tomorrow like a dog begging for my forgiveness!"
She glared at me in silence, as if waiting for me to admit my fault.
But I didn't even glance at her, just picked up my blanket and continued sleeping.
Moments later, she stormed out, slamming the door.
I couldn't help but smile bitterly: "Just how pathetic must I have been in front of her all this time for her to think that no matter what she does, she can act so brazenly arrogant in front of me?"
That night, I slept exceptionally well. When I woke up in the morning, I smelled something sweet.
I walked into the dining room puzzled and found breakfast laid out on the table.
There were several delicate pieces of cake on a plate and milk in a glass.
She was wearing an apron and poked her head out from the kitchen, saying coldly: "Eat up."
In over three years of dating, I had never tasted her cooking.
I forked a piece of cake and put it in my mouth while she pulled out a chair and sat down with a jarring screech.
After a tense moment, her tone softened slightly: "Does it taste good?"
I kept my head down, casually scrolling through my phone screen, about to answer "not bad," when I accidentally came across Callum's new post.
【Last night, I casually mentioned wanting to eat blueberry cake, and she said she'd make it for me herself. Can't wait.】
I chewed the sweet and sour blueberry in my mouth and suddenly felt nauseous.
Combined with the beer from last night irritating my stomach, I couldn't control myself anymore and rushed to the bathroom, retching violently.
Claire chased after me furiously: "Finley, what's your problem?"
I dry-heaved so violently that my veins bulged and my face turned red. I twisted around, trying to explain to her.
But she suddenly hurled the glass in her hand at me.
A sharp, dull pain shot through my temple. Instinctively, I raised my hand to touch it—my palm came away covered in blood.
"You... are you crazy? Why didn't you dodge?" Claire shouted in panicked fury.
"I'll take you to the hospital," she said with a dark expression, coming over to help me.
As soon as I opened the car door, I saw a pair of men's underwear on the passenger seat.
I silently walked to the back seat and pulled open the door.
Claire quickly grabbed the underwear, glancing at me awkwardly as she tried to explain: "I bought this for you..."
"Don't say anything. Let's just go to the hospital," I cut her off coldly, my voice dripping with impatience.
Throughout the drive, Claire kept trying to make conversation.
But I just stared blankly out the window, lost in thought, completely ignoring her words—just like she used to do to me.
Back then, even saying two extra words to me was charity on her part.
Suddenly, Claire fell silent, put on her earphones, and took a call. Her voice grew increasingly anxious: "Don't panic, I'm coming to find you right now."
She abruptly pulled over to the side of the road: "Get out. I have an emergency and need to go back to the company."
I looked out at the highway and the endless farmland, then down at the gauze in my hand that was already soaked with blood. Bewildered, I asked her: "You want me to get out here?"
She urged impatiently: "You can take a taxi to the hospital."
I took several deep breaths and pushed open the car door.
I had barely gotten out and hadn't even steadied myself when she sped off, nearly knocking me to the ground.
Behind me came the harsh sound of honking—a large truck roared past, almost clipping me.
With no other choice, I could only walk toward the thorny dirt path beside the road.
It was the height of summer. After just a few steps, the blazing sun overhead made me dizzy, and sweat soaked through my clothes, sticking uncomfortably to my skin.
As if all the moisture in my body had been drained, my throat burned with thirst.
Just when I could barely stand anymore, I encountered an elderly man who kindly helped me call a car to take me to the hospital.
Exhausted, I quickly fell into a deep sleep with the IV drip in my arm.
"Hey, your hand is so swollen. You should call the nurse." The person next to me woke me up.
I looked at her gratefully, then lowered my eyes to check my phone.
No new messages.
Unconsciously, I opened Callum's Instagram and saw his latest post.
【The little cat was throwing a tantrum and wouldn't eat. She came over for a bit and coaxed it right away.】
In the video, Claire held a small cat with adoring eyes, patiently tearing meat into small strips and feeding it bit by bit.
The entire world seemed to fall silent, leaving only the drip-drop sound of the IV fluid.
That icy feeling seeped through my veins and into my heart, as if carving out an unfillable void there.
I scrolled through old photos with vacant eyes, asking myself: "How did I fall in love with her in the first place?"
Back then, she was an intern and I was a department manager.
In my memory, she was always the first to arrive at the office and the last to leave. At the time, I simply thought she was hardworking.
Until that late night when my friends and I were gaming at an internet café and ordered late-night food.
The moment I opened the door, she hurriedly handed me the takeout.
After recognizing me, she smiled sheepishly, her eyes crinkling as shallow dimples appeared on her cheeks.
Before I could say anything, she had already raised her phone and waved it, indicating she had to rush off to deliver the next order.
Watching her petite figure disappear at the end of the hallway, I felt an inexplicable tenderness in my heart.
Later, I began intentionally assigning some quality client resources to her.
She lived up to expectations—her performance kept improving, and before long, she became the department's top salesperson.
Soon, we became lovers deeply in love.
I secretly leveraged my family's resources to introduce her to higher-quality clients, and her career soared.
At the company Christmas party, she accepted an appointment ceremony from the group's board of directors. Under the spotlight, she wore a black evening gown, confident and radiant, absolutely stunning.
I felt an overwhelming sense of pride. The rose I had carefully nurtured was finally in full bloom.
To protect her self-esteem, I never told her about my family's true background or mentioned the real reason behind her promotions.
However, as her income increased, I seemed to become smaller and smaller in her eyes.
If it weren't for my repeated compromises and concessions, our relationship might have ended long ago.
Dragging my exhausted body home, I heard laughter and cheerful voices the moment I opened the door.
Claire was leaning against Callum's shoulder, playing with the cat in her arms.
When she saw me, her expression became slightly unnatural. She stood up, smoothed her clothes, and asked softly, "Is your wound better?"
I ignored her, turned around, and headed straight upstairs, just wanting to pack my belongings.
But she hurried after me, grabbing my wrist and asking, "Are you angry?"
So she knew I would be angry, yet she kept pushing my boundaries again and again.
I shook off her hand, and she stumbled backward into the metal banister, gasping from the pain.
In the past, I would have been heartbroken, holding her hand to check the injury and rushing to find the first aid kit.
But now, my heart remained unmoved, and I continued upstairs.
Claire looked at me with shock and hurt.
Seeing this, Callum rushed over. "Claire, is your hand okay! How could he..."
"Shut up!" Claire snapped impatiently, then seemed to realize her tone was too harsh and added, "You should go back now."
Callum glared at me resentfully, reluctantly picked up the cat, and slammed the door as he left.
Claire followed me into the bedroom, wrapping her arms around my waist from behind, and said in a muffled voice, "Please don't be angry, okay?"
I said coldly, "I'm not angry. There's still salmon in the fridge. You can take it to feed the cat later."
I could clearly feel Claire's body stiffen. After a long moment, she didn't speak again, and her arms around me trembled slightly.
Perhaps it was my imagination, but I seemed to feel her warm tears soaking through my shirt.
After a long silence, she spoke again, her voice choked with emotion: "Finley, you've been different these past two days. What's wrong?"
I held back again and again, but still couldn't bring myself to mention breaking up. I only replied coldly, "Let's both take some time to cool off."
Claire's voice suddenly rose, looking at me with anger: "What do you mean? Have I been too indulgent with you these past two days, and now you're pushing your luck? Finley, I'm giving you one last chance. Apologize to me right now, or we're breaking up!"
Whenever she got angry, she would block all my contact methods, giving me no chance to explain.
In the past, I tried every way to contact her—sometimes through money transfers, sometimes by adding her as a friend with new accounts I created, humbly begging for her forgiveness.
But this time, I just looked at her calmly: "Fine."
Claire stood frozen in place, staring at me with vacant eyes, as if looking at a stranger.
After all, every time she mentioned breaking up before, I would humbly beg her to stay.
Her lips parted slightly, and after a long pause, she said softly, "Finley, I said we're breaking up."
My expression remained indifferent: "Yes, I agree to break up."
I dragged my suitcase behind me, coldly walking around Claire's pale face without looking back as I turned to leave.
Behind me came Claire's furious roar through gritted teeth: "Finley, you better mean it this time and not come crawling back begging for my forgiveness."
I had thought we could have an amicable breakup.
I never imagined that Claire would do something so utterly despicable next.
When Abigail learned about my breakup, she insisted on meeting Claire in person.
She wanted to see for herself what the woman I had loved for three years looked like.
As it happened, the hotel where Abigail was staying was about to hold a ceremony for Claire's promotion to general manager.
As a major shareholder behind the group, Abigail didn't need to attend a branch office appointment ceremony.
But she insisted on meeting Claire personally, so I had to agree.
I reminded her: "Mom, today you're just presenting her with the appointment letter. Things between us are completely over, so please don't bring up anything else."
Abigail looked at me deeply and nodded.
I was helping Abigail massage her shoulders when the hotel room door was suddenly pushed open.
A group of men rushed in and quickly locked the door behind them.
Callum sneered: "I thought something was off when I saw you entering this hotel. With what little you make each month, you can't afford to spend money at a place like this. Turns out you found yourself a wealthy 'girlfriend.' You'd throw away your dignity for some cash. She looks old enough to be your mother."
Anger flared in my chest, and I was about to argue back when the group had already pounced on me, throwing me to the ground and snatching away my phone.
Callum pressed his foot hard against my face, his eyes full of mockery: "What do you think Claire would do if she knew what kind of scum you are?"
Abigail panicked and tried to help me: "Stop hitting him! He's my son, you've got it all wrong!"
Callum grabbed Abigail's hair with disgust and spat viciously in her face: "Bah, you're so old and still so shameless!"
He suddenly let go and shoved her hard.
Abigail fell to the ground unprepared, her head hitting the corner of the bed hard, her face turning white with pain.
Seeing Abigail humiliated, I struggled desperately but couldn't move.
"Finley, what were you pretending to be so noble about in front of me?" Callum lifted his foot and kicked hard at my abdomen.
I curled up, saying angrily: "Do you know who my mother is? How dare you treat her like..."
Callum said: "I caught you two red-handed, and you still want to make excuses? I'm calling Claire right now to let her see your disgusting true colors!"
He smugly dialed his phone, and before long, Claire came rushing over, lifting her skirt.
She was trembling with rage: "Finley, I never thought..."
Abigail struggled to get up, wanting to explain to Claire.
But Claire viciously kicked Abigail's hand away: "Don't touch me with your filthy hands!"
The sharp high heel struck Abigail's nasal bone, causing blood to gush immediately.
Abigail covered her face, crying out in pain.
"Claire, are you insane?" Overwhelming fury nearly burst from my chest.
But the group behind me held my shoulders in a death grip, and I couldn't move.
Unwillingness, resentment, and anger filled my chest. I was breathing rapidly, feeling like I was about to explode from frustration.
Claire roared: "You're the one who's insane! You did this on purpose, didn't you? Knowing today is my promotion ceremony, you deliberately brought her here to cause trouble, just because I'm breaking up with you? Let me tell you, Finley, we're completely finished! Drag these two shameless people out of here. Holmes Group doesn't serve their kind!"
Claire furiously directed the group.
Callum stood beside her, intimately comforting her while looking at me provocatively.
I struggled and fought with everyone, desperately trying to pull away the hands dragging Abigail.
"What exactly is going on here?" A deep, authoritative voice rang out with undeniable presence.
"Mr. White, what brings you here?" Claire immediately became respectful, bowing and looking obsequiously at manager Bruce White.
Everyone else in the room froze in place, instantly falling silent with lowered heads.
The noisy room became so quiet that only everyone's breathing could be heard.
"Finley? What's all this commotion about?" Bruce frowned, looking at me with both anger and confusion.
I was breathing heavily, my eyes sharp as a hawk's, and I said something that no one expected.
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