Chapter 3

Cynthia feigned panic: “This... this isn't right, is it? She's not only your wife, but also my professor... How can I hit my professor...” “Then let the bodyguards do it.” Lawrence's tone was gentle, but his words were cruel, “Then it won't affect you.” Amity’s pupils contracted sharply as she stared in disbelief at the man who had once shielded her from the world: “Lawrence, do you know what you’re saying?” Lawrence didn’t even spare her a glance, raising his hand to signal the bodyguards behind him: “Do it.” Two tall bodyguards immediately grabbed Amity and pinned her firmly against the wall. “Smack!” When the first slap landed, Amity heard a sharp ringing in her ears. She faintly saw that rainy night years ago, when Lawrence had stood in front of her and told those who were bullying her, “Anyone who dares to touch her will wish they were dead.” “Smack!” The second slap shattered her memories, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth, staining her pale lips red. Through her blurred vision, she saw Lawrence gently covering Cynthia's eyes, whispering something in her ear, causing the girl to playfully punch his chest. … When the tenth slap landed, Amity no longer felt any pain. She collapsed on the ground, her ears ringing with the suppressed gasps of the students. Through her blurred vision, she saw Lawrence gently say to Cynthia, “Let's go. I'll take you to your favorite Japanese restaurant.” The students in the hallway whispered, “Oh my God... Professor White is so pitiful...” “How could Mr. Rodriguez do that...” “That woman is disgusting, she hit herself!” Amity leaned against the wall and slowly stood up. Her face burned with pain, and every step felt like a knife cutting into her. But what was this pain compared to the wound in her heart? It was bleeding, as if someone had torn it open with their bare hands. She had once believed that even if Lawrence had changed his heart, he would at least still cherish their past feelings. But he actually had someone slap her ten times in front of so many people for Cynthia. As she walked out of the school gate, the wind stung her face and she gasped in pain. When she got home,she stood in front of the mirror and looked at the embarrassed self in it: her face swollen and her lips still stained with blood. She suddenly smiled. As she laughed, tears began to fall in large drops. Amity took three days to recover from her injuries and returned to school as usual. As soon as she entered the office, the principal called: “Amity, Cynthia skipped the final exams for several midterm courses. As her professor, you need to inquire about the situation.” Amity finally opened Cynthia’s social media— The latest post was a photo of Lawrence taking her to an auction, with a priceless diamond necklace around her neck, accompanied by the caption: [Mr. Rodriguez said this necklace suits me~] Scrolling down further, there were photos of them frequenting various high-end venues: private yachts, Michelin-starred restaurants, horse farms… Amity dialed Cynthia’s phone number. The background music was loud, and Cynthia's voice carried a hint of laughter: “Hello? Professor White?” “You missed the midterm exam,” Amity said matter-of-factly, “The administration asked me to check on your situation.” “Oh, that,” Cynthia chuckled, “It's just a few exams, right? You're close with the administration—just have them give me a passing grade, and it'll be fine.” She paused and her tone smug, “If that doesn't work, I'll have Mr. Rodriguez donate a few buildings to the school, and this will all be over.” A low laugh came from the other end of the line: “Are you having fun?” “Yeah~” Cynthia replied in a sweet voice, then turned to Amity and said, “Professor, if there's nothing else, please don't disturb us while we're having fun.” The call was hung up. Amity laughed at herself, put down the phone, and didn't care about it anymore. When she returned home in the evening, she saw Lawrence standing in the villa's courtyard, teaching Cynthia how to drive step by step. “Hold the steering wheel steady, then don't be nervous.” He stood beside the driver's seat, leaned close to Cynthia, and spoke in a voice so gentle, “Don't be afraid, I'm here.” This scene stung Amity's eyes. He had taught her to drive in the same way before. Back then, she was clumsy and nearly hit the guardrail, but Lawrence had smiled and pinched her cheek said: “What are you afraid of? I'm here.” Now, he was saying the same words to another girl. “Try it yourself.” Lawrence stepped back. Cynthia bit her lip: “I... I'm afraid of hitting someone...” “It's okay,” Lawrence ruffled her hair, “I'm here.” Cynthia finally relaxed and pressed the accelerator. Then, she suddenly barreled toward Amity! “Bang!” Amity was knocked out and fell heavily to the ground. Blood spread out from beneath her, staining the ground red. In the midst of excruciating pain, she vaguely saw Lawrence rushing over. But he immediately embraced the panicked Cynthia: “Are you okay? Are you scared?” Amity laid in the blood, her consciousness growing faint. … When she woke up again, she was already in the hospital. “You're awake?” Lawrence stood by the bed with his calm expression. “The doctor said you broke a few ribs, don't go to school these days, take good care of yourself.” Amity opened her mouth, but the excruciating pain in her ribs prevented her from speaking. She could only stare at him with bloodshot eyes. “Cynthia didn't mean to do it,” Lawrence continued, “she was just learning to drive and was too nervous.” “She... she... meant to do it...” Amity endured the excruciating pain, each word seeming to be forced out between her teeth, “I was so far away from her...” Lawrence furrowed his brow, a hint of impatience flashing in his eyes: “Amity, what exactly do you want?”