Chapter 4

Sure enough, a bright red headline popped up.

[BREAKING! Serious accident on Western overpass—black Maybach crushed by dump truck, owner suspected to be daughter of Brandi family conglomerate!]

Below were several blurry photos from the scene.

The front of the Maybach was completely deformed, the driver's cabin crushed into a heap of scrap metal.

A shocking pool of blood on the ground had been washed across the pavement by the rain.

The news updated in real time: [Brandi family heiress's legs trapped by deformed cabin, compound fracture, facing risk of permanent disability.]

Looking at the photos on the screen, my finger paused.

In my previous life, because I'd been worried about her, I'd secretly followed their car.

When the accident happened, I'd risked the car exploding and smashed the window with my bare hands, nearly giving my life to drag her out.

Because of my timely rescue, though her legs were disabled, the nerves were preserved. That's why she'd had hope of standing again later.

But in this life, she'd been trapped in that deformed car for a full half hour before firefighters got her out.

She'd missed the optimal rescue window. Those legs of hers were finished.

Annie, enjoy the rest of your crippled life locked together with your true love.

I expressionlessly swiped away the news.

Then I opened the back of my phone and pulled out the SIM card.

I rolled down the window and tossed it out.

The tiny chip was instantly swept away by the rain, disappearing into the dark sewer.

In my previous life, to take care of her, I'd given up my guaranteed admission to Harvard.

In this life, I'd already contacted a top professor in Harvard's finance department in advance.

Tomorrow morning, I'd report to her lab.

I was going to pursue the bright future that truly belonged to me.

As for Annie—

That was the path she chose.

...

At that very moment, at Western General Hospital.

The red light outside the emergency room had been on for five solid hours.

When Old Mr. Brandi and Mrs. Brandi arrived, Mrs. Brandi's legs gave out and she fainted.

Lace stood in a corner of the hallway, his face ashen, irritably tugging at his tie.

The emergency room doors swung open.

The attending physician walked out covered in blood, his expression grave.

"Mr. Brandi, we saved her life."

"But... your daughter's legs suffered compound fractures with massive nerve death."

"We did everything we could, but she'll likely... spend the rest of her life in a wheelchair."

The words hit like a thunderbolt.

Lace's eyes went wide in disbelief as he staggered back a step.

Spend her life in a wheelchair?

Crippled?

Lace had dreamed of taking over the Brandi family empire!

If Annie was crippled, wouldn't he have to spend his whole life serving a paralytic and enduring people's pitying stares?

Just imagining it made Lace feel nauseated.

Several nurses wheeled out a hospital bed.

Annie was still unconscious, her legs wrapped in thick bandages, blood still seeping through.

The air reeked of blood and disinfectant.

Lace recoiled in disgust, afraid the blood would stain his expensive shoes.

"Lace..." Old Mr. Brandi looked at him with red-rimmed eyes. "You're the one Annie cares about most. You have to stay with her."

Lace forced on an expression of grief, his voice stiff. "Mr. Brandi, don't worry. I'll definitely take good care of Annie."

"I... I'm going to smoke a cigarette and collect myself. Then I'll come stay with her."

With that, he turned and hurried toward the end of the hallway without a backward glance.