In my previous life, I gave Richard my heart and soul for ten years. I was both the sharpest blade in his climb to build a business empire and his darkest shadow, handling all his dirty work and troubles. But once his empire was established, I—the stepping stone—was kicked aside. I ultimately died alone in a cheap apartment, my body broken and diseased. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day of our engagement. Looking at this handsome man before me, making empty promises, I felt nothing but disgust. With this second chance at life, I refused to be the sacrifice in his story—I wanted to live for myself. So, in front of all the guests, I hurled that diamond ring—a symbol of my humiliation—back in his face, walked away from the engagement, and turned him into the laughingstock of the entire city. He was convinced I couldn't survive without him, waiting for me to come crawling back, begging for his forgiveness. Instead, what he witnessed was my soaring career and a man by my side who outshone him in every way—a hundred times better than he could ever be. That's when he finally panicked, when he lost his mind. He began using every method to win me back—calling frantically, sending pathetic messages, swallowing his pride to wait outside my office building, even offering a billion-dollar project just to make me return. Too bad. It's too late. Now, I only want to stand at heights he can never reach, coldly watching him pay the most painful price for his arrogance and stupidity. Forgiveness? Hah, maybe in the next lifetime.