After 99 Betrayals, I Finally Gave Up on My Boyfriend novel

By the third year of living with Armando, Debbie had been tormented ninety-nine times by his obsessive pursuer, Karylle.
The first time, Karylle deliberately ran over Debbie's leg again and again with her car until the bone shattered completely.
Debbie spent three months in a coma.
When she finally woke up, the first thing she saw was Armando sitting by her bed, whispering softly, "Debbie, Karylle is still young. She's just... playful. I already scolded her, so don't be mad, okay?"
The second time, Karylle tricked Debbie's best friend into climbing a mountain at night. When a sudden storm hit, Debbie went up to rescue her. They almost froze to death.
Armando's eyes were red when he held her tight.
"Debbie, I've already yelled at Karylle. She's just spoiledshe doesn't mean any harm."
The third time, Karylle locked Debbie in a room and tried to burn her alive.
Armando broke down the door and dragged her out, coughing from smokeyet still defended Karylle.
"Debbie, Karylle didn't mean it! Please, forgive her one last time!"
...
She endured until the ninety-ninth time.
Under the cold glare of the shadowless surgical lamp, Debbie's wrists were bound to the operating table. Karylle stood beside her, red nails tracing Debbie's pale cheeks as her voice dripped with venom.
"Debbie, Armando is now the heir to the Robbins family. Someone like youa pathetic insectdoesn't deserve him, or anything he cares about."
She tilted her chin toward the trembling surgeon and ordered, "Do as I saidbreak her legs, drain her blood, and remove her uterus. Don't worry. The Robbins family will protect you."
Just as the scalpel was about to pierce her flesh, the door burst open.
Armando rushed in, his white coat still stained with wine from the Robbins family banquet. He shoved Karylle aside and froze at the sight of Debbie's blood-soaked gown. His voice trembled for the first time.
"Save her! Save her at all costs!"
Debbie coughed blood, her trembling hand clutching his sleeve. "Armando... this time... she has to go to prison..."
His hand hovered over her wound, his Adam's apple bobbing painfully. Then, slowly, he looked away.
"Debbie, I've just been recognized by the Robbins family. Karylle... she's the fiance they've chosen for me. The family can't afford any scandal right now."
He crouched down, his voice trembling with a rare, pleading tone.
"Please, forgive her one last time, alright? I swear, I won't ever let her hurt you again."
Debbie looked into his eyes, seeing the struggle and compromise warring within them. A hollow laugh escaped her lips, echoing through the sterile room. Blood foam spilled from the corners of her mouth, streaking down her chin and staining the white sheets beneath her in vivid red.
Her trembling fingers loosened their grip, and the light in her eyes dimmed bit by bitlike ashes fading after a final spark.
"Armando," she rasped, her voice hoarse beyond recognition, "your so-called concern has never outweighed your status as the heir of the Robbins family."
The stabbing pain in her abdomen twisted with the tight ache in her chest, forcing her vision to blur. She blinked weakly, the world spinning, and then her body went limp as darkness pulled her under.
Before losing consciousness, the last thing she saw was the fleeting panic and unwillingness that flashed across Armando's eyes when they met hers.
When Debbie next opened her eyes, voices were echoing through the corridor outside her ward.
Pain stabbed through her abdomen with every breath. The door was ajar, and through the crack, she heard Armando's calm, detached tone.
"My engagement banquet with Karylle is set for next weekend. Everything will follow Robbins family's protocol."
There was not even a single word about the woman lying half-dead in the hospital bed because of his so-called fiance.
"Also, keep an eye on the ward. No one must take pictures of me and Debbie. The media must never find out we lived together for three years."
The assistant hesitated.
"Mr. Robbins, Miss Ingram is stable now. If she wakes up and tries to contact you..."
Armando let out a low, mocking laugh. That sound cut through Debbie's chest like a blade.
"Contact me? For what?" He paused, his tone dripping with disdain.
"Tell finance to transfer her the rent and utility fees for the past three years. After that, we're even."
Narrowing his eyes, he continued, "Remember, from now on, I don't know anyone named Debbie Ingram. She's just a nobody. I fed her, housed her, paid her medical billsthat's more than she deserves."
"B-but you once said you'd protect Miss Ingram..." the assistant murmured.
Armando interrupted him, his tone edged with impatience.
"Before is before. Now, I am the heir of the Robbins family."
His voice grew colder.
"What's the point of keeping a woman who does nothing for mewho only drags down my future?"
He turned away slightly, his tone final and merciless.
"Make sure this matter is never mentioned again. Even if it's true that I, Armando Robbins, owe Debbieconsider that debt erased!"
Inside the ward, Debbie bit her lip until she tasted blood. Only when the metallic tang filled her mouth did she finally let go. Tears streamed uncontrollably down her face.
So that was it.
The love she thought had been deep and selfless was nothing but her own delusion.
In his world of power and family politics, she wasn't even worth the dust beneath his shoes.
The pain in her abdomen was unbearable, but it still couldn't compare to the pain in her heart.
Her thoughts drifted back to when they'd first met.
Back then, Armando wasn't yet the Robbins family's heir. He was simply a man who held her in his hands as though she were his entire world.
They lived in a tiny rental apartmentless than fifty square meters. There was no heating in winter. Armando always wore a thick, old coat, yet he would still hand her the only hand warmer. His fingertips were red from the cold, but he smiled and said,
"I'm a man, I can handle it. Your hands are colddon't let them freeze."
Once, after she stayed out late selling goods, a sudden downpour drenched her to the bone. When she finally reached home, she found Armando waiting at the entrance, holding an umbrella and a cup of warm ginger tea.
The moment he saw her, he ran toward her, tilting the umbrella so it covered her completely. Half his body was soaked but he didn't care. He nervously touched her forehead and asked, "Did you catch a cold? I made ginger teadrink it quickly while it's still warm."
Another time, when she fell seriously ill with a 39-degree fever, she fainted in his arms. Armando had carried her for three streets to the hospital, running breathlessly through the night. His face was pale, his lips trembling, yet he never let go of her hand. He stayed by her bedside until morning, his eyes bloodshot from exhaustion. When she finally opened her eyes, he said in a hoarse, trembling voice, "Debbie, you scared me to death. Please, don't get sick again."
He used to tell her that when he got better, he would work hard and earn enough to rent a house with heatingso she'd never have to freeze again.
They once dreamed of saving enough money to get married. It didn't matter if there was no grand wedding; as long as they could stay together, that was enough.
He said, smiling gently, "The luckiest thing in my life is meeting you. As long as you don't mind me, Debbie, I'll definitely marry you."
Back then, the way he looked at her was filled with tenderness and dependenceas if she were his whole world.
But now?
Now, he stood under the dazzling spotlight, holding another woman's hand, promising her a grand wedding before the world.
He had forgotten everythingthe words he once spoke, the countless sleepless nights she spent for him, the days she starved to save money for his medicine, and how she carried him through three streets to the hospital in the pouring rain.
Debbie wiped her tears with trembling fingers, her skin icy cold.
It turned out that all those beautiful moments were nothing but his dependence when he was desperatehis comfort when he was weak.
Once he stood high above the world, once he gained better choices, those past tenderness became a burden he no longer wished to remember.
After a long silence, Debbie hesitated but finally reached for her phone. Her voice was weak but resolute. "Thaddeus... I want to go home."
There was a brief pause, and then a respectful reply came from the other end.
"Yes, Young Miss. I'll come for you in three days!"

When Debbie opened her eyes again, she was no longer in the hospital.
She was in the master bedroom of the Robbins family villa.
Beside the bed sat Armando, with a gleaming luxury watch on his wristthe one gifted by the Andrade family. The shimmer of metal on his skin made him look like a stranger, nothing like the man who once lived with her in a shabby rented apartment.
The moment he saw her awake, he stood quickly, voice soft and rehearsed in that familiar tone of gentleness.
"Debbie, you're awake? Do you feel uncomfortable anywhere?"
Gone was the arrogance he showed in the hospital.
When he reached out to touch her forehead, she turned her head away. His hand froze awkwardly in midair.
He sat down at the edge of the bed, taking her uninjured hand.
"I know Karylle went too far. But she only did it because of me. Let's just let this go, okay?"
"The Andrade family has been watching me closely. My engagement to Karylle is just a temporary arrangement. Once I gain full control of the Robbins family, I'll call it off and marry you instead."
He tried to sound sincere, rubbing her hair the way he used to, evoking the past like it could erase everything.
"I still remember when you carried me to the hospital that winter night, and when you sold trinkets to help pay for my medicine. I haven't forgotten, Debbie. I promise you, I'll give you a better life."
But Debbie pulled her hand free, her voice cold and distant, as if her heart had turned to glass.
"Enough," she intoned coldly. "I don't want to hear any of that."
Even the words she heard in the hospital now felt like nothing more than a dream.
Whether he meant them or not no longer mattered. His indifference had already become fact.
Armando's composure cracked. He lowered his voice, almost begging. "Debbie, just give me time. I'll protect you."
Hearing those words, she couldn't help but laugh bitterly. "Protect?"
Her voice trembled with sarcasm.
"Do you want me to watch you get engaged? Or do you want me to keep enduring all the pain while listening to your empty promises? Armando, we can't go back anymore. The kindness you gave me was realbut so was the pain. You're no longer the man who once cared for me."
Her eyes were filled with quiet disappointment. "Why bother pretending to be affectionate now?"
She forced herself to sit up despite the sharp pain in her legs. Her eyes were calmtoo calmlike a lake long frozen over.
Armando looked at her, panic flickering in his eyes. Every excuse he had prepared suddenly felt hollow in the silence between them.
Just then, hurried footsteps echoed from the corridor. A servant's anxious voice followed.
"Mr. Robbins! Miss Andrade was making soup for you in the kitchen and accidentally burned her hand!"
"Burned?" Armando's brows furrowed at once. Whatever faint concern he had left for Debbie vanished instantly.
Without even glancing back, he turned and walked out.
Debbie sat frozen on the bed, her fingers curling weakly.
If he had only turned back for one second, he would have seen the redness in her eyestears she had been holding back for far too long.
Still, she forced herself to follow.
When she reached the living room, Karylle was sitting on the sofa, her eyes red, a damp towel wrapped around her left wrist. The moment she saw Armando, her voice quivered with tears.
"Arman, I just wanted to make some soup for you... I didn't expect..."
Armando crouched in front of her, his voice patient and gentlea tone Debbie had never heard him use before.
"I told you, you don't have to do these things for me." He gently lifted the towel and frowned at the reddened burn on her skin. "You've never even cooked beforewhy push yourself?"
Why force yourself to do something like this?"
He picked up a tube of ointment, dipped his fingertips in, and carefully applied it to Karylle's wound, bit by bit. Between them lingered an unspoken intimacy.
Debbie stood silently at the door, her fingertips cold as ice.
It wasn't until Armando finally looked up and noticed her that he remembered her presence. He stood abruptly, his voice a little awkward.
"Debbie, actually... I still like the dishes you make best. They suit my taste more than anything else. Why don't you go and cook?"
In the past, Debbie would have smiled through her tears, washed her hands, and gone straight to the kitchen, no matter how tired or unwell she was.
But today, she just looked at him quietly. Her voice was softyet firmer than ever before. "There are servants in the kitchen. Let them handle it."
"After three years of playing your housemaid, I've had enough."
Silence filled the room. The air seemed to freeze around them.
Armando sensed something in her tone. The carelessness in his eyes faded as he stepped closer, trying to take her hand.
"Debbie, don't be angry. I'm just worried about Karylle."
He spoke quickly, as if to justify himself. "And I already told Karylle to stop bullying you. We only have a cooperative relationship. You're the one I truly love."
Before he could finish, Karylle's soft voice interrupted. She lowered her gaze, her tone full of gentle guilt.
"Arman, don't blame Debbie. It's all my fault. I shouldn't have caused you trouble..."
"It's only natural for her to hate me. If she's unhappy, I'll leave right now."
Armando turned to Debbie at once, his tone carrying a faint trace of reproach.
"Look at youKarylle even said that, so don't be angry, okay? If you want to blame someone, blame me. This has nothing to do with her. We're all good friendsdon't take it so seriously."
Debbie stared at him, feeling as if the man in front of her had become a stranger.
"Armando, you may be friends with her, but I'm not."
Without another glance, she turned and walked back to her room.

Night had fallen.
Debbie sat on the bed, her fingertips brushing against the rim of a cup of warm water that had long gone cold. The clock on the wall ticked steadily, marking the endless hours from midnight to dawn. Yet Armando never came back.
Before retiring for the night, the butler had explained softly, "Miss Ingram, Mr. Robbins has just taken over the company and has urgent matters to handle tonight. He may have to stay overnight at the office."
She nodded without replying, quietly turning her phone screen on and off.
It wasn't until two in the morning that a notification popped up.
It was a message from Karyllewith two photos. Both were taken at the entrance of one of the city's most exclusive bars.
In the picture, Armando slightly lowered his head, his hand gripping Karylle's waist as they kisseddeeply, inseparably. The location tag beneath the photo was nowhere near the "company" the butler had mentioned. It was halfway across the city.
Debbie's hand holding the phone didn't tremble. She rose slowly, heading toward the door. The sound of her footsteps on the floor was so soft it was almost silent.
When she arrived at the bar and found the private room from the location, the door was slightly ajar.
Inside came bursts of laughter and drunken chatter. Then, Armando's voice rang out, low and rough with alcohol, yet every word pierced straight through her.
"Debbie? She's just some street vendor girl. Who does she think she is, giving me attitude? If it weren't for the fact she waited on me like a servant for three yearscooking, cleaning, fetching teaI'd have tossed her out long ago."
Laughter followed.
"Armando, Karylle is much more fun than her. You and her really make a perfect pair!"
Karylle's soft, sugary voice chimed in. "Arman, don't say that about Debbie. If she heard you, she'd be so hurt."
Armando sneered, slamming his wine glass onto the table. The sharp crack echoed through the room.
"Sad? She's like a wooden dolldoes she even know what sadness is? Every day, she's tied to the stove. When I invited Karylle over, she'd just add more dishes and utensilsso dull! But the first time I saw Karylle... she was different. I wanted to keep her all to myself. That kind of madness, that possessivenessDebbie never made me feel that way!"
Laughter filled the room again. Someone teased, patting Armando's shoulder.
"Armando is biased even when drunk! Debbie would cry if she heard that!"
Armando tilted his head back, gulping down more wine. His cheeks were flushed, but his eyes glinted with disdain.
"Cry? If she dares cry, I'll only find her more pathetic. If not for her fussing over me all those years, I'd have sent her away long ago. What right does she have to give me a hard time?"
Outside the door, Debbie stood still, her fingertips pressed to the cold wood. Her heart was eerily calm.
Back then, Armando had congenital heart disease. She had never let him drink, not even a sip. Every time they attended gatherings, she would watch his glass carefully, even contacting restaurants in advance to replace his wine with juice.
Now, he was sitting in a bar, drunk out of his mind, ridiculing her with every word.
And in her mind, a single thought echoed: 'The first thing the cripple did after healing was throw away the crutches that once held him up.'
Suddenly, the door swung open.
Karylle stood in the doorway, her lipstick smudged, her hair a little messy. For an instant, surprise flashed in her eyes, quickly replaced by a smug smile. She glanced deliberately toward the room.
Armando's slurred voice floated out,
"Karylle, who's at the door? Why are you standing there so long?"
Turning back, Karylle's tone turned honeyed and sweet as she spoke, deliberately raised the volume, making sure Debbie outside could hear her every word.
"No one, Arman. It's just the wind blowing the door."
Then she casually tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, her fingers brushing her swollen lips, locking eyes with Debbie in deliberate provocation as if saying, 'Look, he's drunkwith only me in his eyes and heart. He doesn't even notice you standing there.'
Debbie didn't move. She just stood there, silently watching the scene insidethe laughter, the drinks, the man who had once been her whole world. She watched Armando lean close to Karylle, whispering something that made her giggle like a child.
When Karylle finally helped the drunken Armando toward the restroom, Debbie silently followed.
The corridor lights were dim. She stood before them, the light casting faint shadows across her expressionless face.
Her eyes swept over Armando, who was barely able to keep his eyes open, his steps unsteadythen settled coldly on Karylle.
Her voice was soft, but every word was as sharp as glass. "When did you get together?"
Armando felt that the person in front of him was somewhat familiar, but couldn't remember who it was, and just muttered vaguely, "Who are you...? Don't block the way..."
Karylle clung tighter to his arm, smiling, as if comforting a lover.
"We? Oh, it's been a year."
Then she leaned in, her lips almost brushing Debbie's ear, her voice dripping with mock pity and smug delight.
"For that whole year, he ate your food, spent your moneyand bought me handbags with it. When you were asleep, he'd sneak out to see me. Isn't that funny?"
"You keep fighting me for a manbut with ninety nine betrayal, haven't you learned by now? The one Arman loves most has always been me."
She smiled.
"You're the obstacle between us, Debbie. So I'll remove you myself."
Armando burped beside her, barely aware of what was happening.
"Karylle... don't talk to strangers... let's go drink..."
He waved a hand dismissively, not even realizing who stood in front of him. His tone was filled with irritation, as though she were nothing more than an obstacle.
Debbie looked at them bothat the man who no longer recognized her, and the woman who had stolen everything she'd ever cherished.
Her hand rose before she even thought about it.
Slap!
Her palm struck his face hard.
"If you like picking up trash so much," she said coldly, "then I'll give it to you."
Ignoring Karylle's furious shout behind her, Debbie turned and walked away.
Every grievance, every sleepless night, every cruel word she'd just heardeach one was a blunt knife carving through her heart, cutting the last thread of attachment cleanly in two.
She walked toward the elevator without looking back, as if all the noise and laughter behind had nothing to do with her.
'So you've been lying to me all along, Armando!'

The next day, the engagement banquet sparkled with luxury.
Armando stood at the center of the hall, his hand wrapped tightly around Karylle's delicate fingers. Surrounded by laughter and champagne toasts, they accepted blessings from the guestseveryone praising how perfectly matched they looked, a talented man and a beautiful woman.
Karylle rested her arm proudly against his, her smile radiant with triumph. But Armando's eyes driftedagain and againtoward the far end of the villa.
Upstairs, behind a locked door, Debbie was being "taken care of" by the housekeeper he had arranged.
The butler entered the bedroom with a tray in hand, his tone polite but nervous.
"Miss Ingram, Mr. Robbins asked that you drink this warm milk and get some rest. He said he doesn't want you to tire yourself out."
Condensation still beaded the rim of the glass. It looked harmless.
Debbie stared at it, her fingers curling slightly, and said softly, "Leave it. I'll drink it later."
The butler hesitated but dared not press further. He set the milk down and quietly backed out of the roomthen clicked the lock behind him.
Not long after, the door opened again. Armando entered, the scent of alcohol and Karylle's perfume still clinging to him from the banquet.
He walked to the bedside and lightly touched Debbie's cheekhis fingertips carried a trace of warmth, but his tone was full of false tenderness.
"Debbie, I've wronged you."
"I only have you in my heart, but I can't let go of the Robbins family inheritance. Karylle can help me now, but it's just temporary. Once I have full control of the family, I'll end the engagement and bring you away from here. Trust me, okay?"
He gazed at the "sleeping" Debbie, a flicker of struggle crossing his eyes. But in the end, he hardened his heart, turned around, and left.
As soon as the door closed, the woman on the bed slowly opened her eyes.
She had never touched the glass of milkshe'd only been pretending to sleep.
By sheer coincidence, when Armando had locked the door earlier, the lock hadn't clicked properly. With a light push, it opened.
Debbie leaned against the wall for support, forcing herself up through the stabbing pain in her body, and made her way toward the banquet hall.
When she appeared at the entrance, the once noisy hall suddenly fell silent.
Gasps erupted seconds later.
"Who's that?"
"Why is she dressed like that?"
"Does anyone know her?"
The guests began whispering among themselves, all eyes turning toward Debbie.
Armando's face changed instantly. Shock flickered in his eyes, followed by fury. He barked out, "Who let her out? Get her out of here!"
"Wait."
A cold, commanding voice cut through the noise.
Madam Robbins rose slowly from the sofa, her elegant dress glimmering under the chandelier. Her sharp eyes settled on her son with open disgust.
If her legitimate heir hadn't drowned years ago, she would never have allowed this illegitimate son to step foot in the Robbins household.
"Armando," she said icily. "What is the meaning of this?"
Before he could answer, Karylle stepped forward, gripping his arm tightly. Her voice trembled just enough to sound convincing, laced with practiced fear and pity.
"Aunt Rosie, II don't know. This woman has been obsessed with Arman for a long time. She's always tried to get close to him. Maybe she snuck in tonight to ruin the engagement."
Madam Robbins's expression hardened. Her gaze swung sharply to her son.
"Is that true?"
Armando looked at Debbie's pale face, panic flickering in his heart. But under Madam Robbins' scrutinyand with the thought of the hard-won inheritance hanging in the balancehe averted his eyes.
A look of feigned heartache and hesitation passed over his face as he nodded slowly.
"Yes... she's been bothering me for a while. I couldn't do anything about it."
Debbie felt her blood run cold. Her whole body stiffened as she shouted, her voice trembling with fury and disbelief.
"Armando, tell everyonewho am I to you? It was you who"
Before she could finish, Armando gestured sharply, and the bodyguard rushed forward to cover her mouth.
She stared at Armando's familiar faceat the man who once swore to protect herand listened as he labeled her nothing more than a deranged woman obsessed with him.
In that instant, the last shred of warmth in her heart shattered into ashes.
"So be it." Madam Robbins's voice was calm, but cold as ice. "Armando, you caused this mess. Clean it up. Don't ruin the evening for everyone else."
Armando's Adam's apple bobbed. Under the weight of everyone's gaze, he closed his eyes and gave the order hoarsely.
"Throw her... into the pool."
The bodyguard stepped forward, grabbed Debbiestill confined to her wheelchairand carried her outside toward the garden.
With a loud plop, she was hurled into the pool.
The icy water swallowed her whole, the shock sending knives of pain through her abdomen. She struggled, gasping, but her limbs quickly went weak.
At the entrance of the banquet hall, Armando stood frozen, staring at the figure sinking deeper into the water. His heart pounded violently, his fingertips turning cold.
He wanted to rush to her, but his legs felt heavy as lead. He could only watch helplessly as Debbie's hair floated on the water's surface for a momentthen slowly sank out of sight.
And the pool went still.

Armando's fingers trembled as he stared at the ripples spreading rapidly across the pool.
While the guests' attention was still fixed on the water, he grabbed the butler by the collar, his knuckles whitening as he hissed through gritted teeth, "Get her out. Hide her in the attic. And if a third person finds out about thispack your things and get out of the Robbins house!"
The butler's face turned ashen. He stumbled toward the pool in a panic.
From the corner of the garden, Karylle watched every flicker of panic in Armando's eyes. She immediately moved closer, her tone soft and soothing, fingers lightly patting his back as if to comfort him.
"Arman, don't panic. I know you care about her, but in front of so many reporterswhat else could I have said? If I hadn't claimed she was the one pestering you, imagine what headlines they'd write tomorrow. The Robbins family just went through a crisis; we can't afford another scandal. I had no choice... please don't blame me."
Her voice trembled delicately, her face full of pitybut deep in her eyes, a hint of triumph glimmered.
"I only wanted to protect your reputation."
Armando's thoughts were in disarray, and somehow her words managed to soothe the chaos inside him. He pressed a hand to his temple, a flicker of genuine gratitude crossing his face.
"I know... I've wronged you."
But for the rest of the banquet, he was like a man who'd lost his soul.
Guests came up one after another, raising glasses and offering congratulations, but his eyes kept drifting toward the attic.
Someone joked, "Mr. Robbins, you and Miss Andrade are truly a match made in heaven!"
His lips twitched into something that could hardly be called a smilemore painful than tears.
All he could see was Debbie's face as she sank beneath the waterher eyes shut tight, her hair floating lifelessly on the surface like black silk. Every image stabbed at his heart, one needle after another.
Karylle watched him drift away in silence, her nails digging deep into her palm until blood welled up. Her hatred for Debbie was a living thing, burning behind her eyes.
When the last guest finally left, Armando didn't even bother taking off his jacket. He stormed up the stairs to the attic like a man possessed.
The door slammed open.
Debbie sat at the edge of the bed, wrapped in a thin blanket. Her skin was pale as paper, but her breathing was steady. The moment he saw her alive, his chest loosened in reliefonly for fury to ignite the very next second.
He crossed the room in three long strides, towering over her.
"Who told you to come downstairs?!" he thundered. "Didn't I tell you to stay in your room? You just had to make a scene, didn't you? Were you trying to ruin everything I've built in the Robbins family?!"
Debbie slowly lifted her gaze to him. There were no tears, no angeronly a vast, desolate emptiness in her eyes, like a prairie burned to ash where even the wind could no longer stir.
"Ruin you?" Her voice was soft, almost weightless. "Armando, it was you who had the butler drug me with sleeping pills. You deliberately locked me up and ordered them to throw me into that pool."
She gave a bitter smile. "I came downstairs just to see... how cruel the man I've protected for three years could really be when faced with power and inheritance."
Her eyes met his, dark and unflinching gaze. "Now I know. You're even ruthless than I imagined."
Her words struck like stones to the chest. Armando's breath hitchedhis anger twisting with guilt. But before he could speak, Karylle appeared in the doorway, leaning weakly against the frame, her hand resting delicately on her waist as she shuffled inside.
"Arman," she said softly, tugging on his arm, "Debbie must be confused after falling into the water. Don't take her words to heart."
Then she turned, her expression the picture of gentle reason. "But Debbie, you really shouldn't have acted like that today. The guests were all powerful people from New York. You rushing in like that... it makes people question whether Armando can even manage his private life. How can he lead the Robbins family if he can't?"
Her words were like a spark dropped into oil.
Armando's fury erupted completely. "Do you hear that? Even Karylle understands what's at stake! She's always thinking of mewhile you? You only know how to bring me trouble!"
His voice turned into a roar. "Debbie, maybe it's time you learned what obedience means!"
He spun toward the servants standing outside the door. "Lock her down! Without my permission, she gets no food, no water. Let her stay there and think about what she's done!"

The cold iron chains bit into Debbie's wrists, leaving deep red marks as two bodyguards in black dragged her down the stone corridor. The damp air was thick with a metallic stench, a sickly sweetness that made her shiver.
"Armando! You can't lock me in a place like this!"
She struggled, twisting to look back at the man standing on the stone steps above.
A cigarette burned between Armando's fingers, smoke curling lazily around his sharp features. His voice came through the hazeflat, detached, cruelly calm.
"I told you to stay put, but you refused. This time, you'll learn what defiance costs."
Her eyes reddened, her voice hoarse from fury.
"Armandoyou'll regret this!"
He gave a low, mirthless laugh and flicked his wrist.
"Take her down."
The heavy iron door groaned open. A rush of humid air, thick with rot and blood, poured out. Debbie was shoved inside; icy water immediately soaked her feet.
She staggered, using the faint light above to orient herselfand froze.
This wasn't an attic. It was a flooded stone chamber. The dark water rippled, and beneath the surface, slender shapes slithered and swam.
Her pupils constricted. Her legs trembled uncontrollably.
"Snakes..."
Memory struck her like a wave.
On her eighteenth birthday, she went on a camping trip with Armando. She'd gone out in the middle of the night and accidentally stepped into a snake's nest. A gray-green serpent had coiled around her ankle, its cold, scaled body pressing against her bare skin, tongue flicking as it brushed her calf.
She screamed, frozen in terroruntil Armando came running. He'd carefully pried the snake off her, pulled her trembling body into his arms, and whispered, "Don't be afraid, Debbie. I'm here. I'll never let you face a snake again."
Back then, his eyes had been filled with warmth, so gentle it could melt stone.
But nowhe had personally thrown her into a pit full of snakes.
"Armando... you're truly heartless..."
The words slipped from her lips as her chest constricted painfully, as though an invisible hand was crushing her heart.
Then something brushed against her ankle.
A water snake slid past her skin, cold and slick. She screamed and stumbled backward, tripping into deeper water. The disturbance sent ripples across the pool.
Dozens of serpents stirred. They surged toward her, weaving through the dark water. Some wrapped around her arms; others coiled up her legs.
"Get away! Don't touch me!"
She flailed wildly, but the more she struggled, the more the snakes swarmed.
Then painsharp and searingbit through her calf. She looked down to see a black water snake sunk deep into her flesh, its fangs puncturing her skin, fire spreading through her veins.
Another bit her thigh. Then another.
Agonizing pain bloomed everywhere, prickling like fire and needles beneath her skin. Her vision blurred.
Then came a different paina stabbing, twisting agony in her abdomen. Something deep inside her body felt like it was being torn away. She collapsed into the water, curling in on herself, clutching her stomach as cold sweat drenched her skin.
She didn't know that at that very moment, the life growing inside hertheir childwas slipping away.
Outside the dungeon, Armando stood before the surveillance screen, watching Debbie writhed in agony on the monitor.
The cigarette burned down to the filter, causing him to suddenly come to his senses.
A hint of complex emotion flashed in his eyes, but as soon as he thought of Debbie's disobedient appearance, that hesitation disappeared instantly.
"Once she admits she was wrong," he said coldly, "bring her out."
The bodyguard nodded.
But he didn't knowby then, Debbie's heart had already turned to ash.
That night, she burned with fever, her skin flushed scarlet.
In the haze of half-consciousness, she heard the door creak open, and the butler's voice, trembling and urgent. "Mr. Robbins, Miss Ingram is covered in snake bitesher whole body is burning up! If we don't get a doctor soon, she might not make it!"
Before Armando could answer, Karylle's gentle tone cut in, deliberately hesitant.
"Dying?" she echoed softly. "Arman, don't you think she's pretending? Those snakes aren't poisonous. She made such a scene earliermaybe now she's faking a fever just to win your sympathy. You shouldn't fall for that. It's such a common trick."
Footsteps stopped outside the door. Armando's jaw tightened. His voice was ice. "Let her burn. Maybe she'll think clearly once the fever breaks."
Inside, Debbie heard every word.
Her burning body shuddered violently. Tears welled up and rolled down her cheeks, mixing with sweat as they slipped into her collarcold against fevered skin, like knives carving through what was left of her heart.

The next morning, the door creaked open. Karylle stepped in, wearing a syrupy smile so sweet it could rot teeth. She reached out as if to help.
"Debbie, you're awake? I didn't sleep a wink last night and kept worrying you'd be cold or hungry. Armando, toohe was restless all night, muttering your name in his sleep. You know how he is, proud on the surface, but deep down, he still cares about you."
Her fingertips brushed Debbie's armand in her eyes, a flash of cruelty cut through the false warmth.
Debbie shoved her hand away and steadied herself against the wall, forcing her weak legs to move one step at a time down the stairs.
Karylle's voice dropped low, meant for her ears alone. "Debbie, do you still think I've been tormenting you all these years because I was jealous?"
Debbie froze mid-step, her fingers curling into the fabric of her sleeve.
Karylle let out a soft laughsweet, but sharp with venom. "The truth is, everything I've ever done to youthe car accident, the night you almost froze to death on the mountain, the fire, even the time I had you tied to that operating tableit was all part of a bet."
She paused deliberately, watching the blood drain from Debbie's face, then continued, savoring each word.
"Armando said that if I could torture you ninety-nine times without you ever suspecting him, and still make you believe he loved you, he'd help me secure access to the Robbins family's assetsand promise to marry me. For him, it was just a game. A way to win the Robbins family's trust and claim his spot as heir."
She leaned close to Debbie's ear, her voice soft and serpentine.
"You were nothing more than a wager between us."
Smiling, her tone turned mocking. "A plain, na?ve woman like youdid you really think he could love you? When he watched me bully you, he probably found your tears amusing. The affection you clung to was just his ladder to success. The pain you endured was the price he made you pay for his ambition."
Debbie felt her heart seize in her chest. The air seemed to vanish from her lungs. Darkness crept in at the edges of her vision.
She lifted her head abruptly, eyes bloodshot and wide, lips tremblingbut no sound came out.
So the three years of tenderness had been a lie.
The pleading by the operating table had been an act.
Even those fleeting moments of gentleness were nothing but carefully scripted illusions.
Karylle watched her stagger and tremble, then stood upright, smoothing her dress with satisfaction. "Well, the game's over now. He's the Robbins heir, I'm his fiance, and youyou should crawl back to where you came from."
She turned toward the spiral staircase, but halfway down, her voice caught in a feigned gasp.
"Ah!"
In a single motion, she stumbled forwardthen, with a vicious flick of her wrist, she shoved Debbie hard in the back.
Still feverish and weak, Debbie lost her balance and tumbled down the stairs like a leaf in the wind. Her back slammed against the edge of a step; pain exploded through her body, and she nearly vomited blood.
Karylle rolled down a few steps herself, clutching her abdomen, and began to sob pitifully.
"My baby... I just got pregnant... why would you push me, Debbie?"
When Armando came rushing in, his eyes went straight to the crying woman on the floor.
He pulled Karylle into his arms, then glared down at Debbie, his voice a roar of fury.
"Debbie! How could you be so vicious? Karylle came to release you, and you pushed her down the stairs? Is your heart made of stone?!"
Debbie lay sprawled on the cold marble, her bones aching as though shattered. Every breath was agony.
"It wasn't me! She pulled me down with her!"
She struggled to rise, clutching the banister, her abdomen throbbing so sharply she saw spots. But she forced herself to speak, desperate.
"Armando, check the security footageit'll prove I'm innocent!"
Karylle, still nestled weakly in his arms, looked up with tearful eyes.
"Security footage?" she echoed softly, her voice trembling just right. "Debbie, how can you lie like that just to clear your name? You and I argued, you pushed me, and now you want to accuse me of framing you? How can you be so cruel?"
Armando looked down at Karylle's pale face, at the blood staining her dressand something inside him snapped.
He stormed toward Debbie, towering over her. His tone was sharp as a blade.
"Apologize to Karylle."
Debbie's eyes were red, her voice raw.
"I did nothing wrong. Why should I apologize?"
Her gaze burned through tears. "Armando, you won't even check the cameras before condemning me? Have you forgotten who I amwho I was to you?"
His anger flared, ugly and unrestrained. He grabbed her wrist so hard she winced.
"The past is gone!" he barked. "Karylle and the baby are hurt because of you! If you don't apologize, I swear, you'll regret it."
The raw hatred in his eyes pierced through Debbie like a knife. Her whole body trembled as pain rippled through her stomach, merging with the ache in her chest.
And thenshe laughed. A hollow, broken sound. Tears streamed down her face.
"No matter what I say, you'll never believe me." Her voice cracked. "Armando, you disgust me."
Seeing her defiance only deepened his rage. He turned to the servants, shouting until his voice broke.
"No one must help her! Let her lie there and think about what she has done! Anyone who dares help herleave the Robbins house immediately!"
He turned, cradling Karylle in his arms, and strode away without looking back. Not even once.
Debbie remained on the floor. Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, falling across her pale facebut it could no longer warm her.
She watched his retreating figure disappear through the doorway and finally closed her eyes. A single tear slid down her cheek. "Armando... I truly regret ever meeting you."
Suddenly, a figure walked over not far away.
"Miss Ingram," a low voice said softly, "I'm sorry I'm late. I've come to take you home."
...
Meanwhile, Armando's phone rang.
A servant's panicked voice came through the line. "Sir! Something's wrongsomeone just took Miss Ingram away!"

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