Chapter 1

Melanie shattered my pride and broke my wings, ensuring I could never race cars again.

She once told her friends: “Back when he was at his peak and spent that entire year overseas, it annoyed me that he had no time for me.”

“Now that I’ve broken his wings to make him stay by my side every day, I find him annoying too. So I threw him out.”

What she didn't know was that during that year abroad, I wasn't practicing on the track. I was putting together a grand wedding for her.

Later, when she finally learned the truth, she broke down in hysterical tears.

1.

At the speedway, the announcer declared that I would make my comeback next season.

The entire crowd gasped, but no one was more stunned than Melanie Cross.

Sitting in the front row of the VIP section, her eyes widened in pure disbelief.

I stood a short distance behind her in a baseball cap, catching snippets of her friends whispering: “Didn’t Melanie ruin Cyrus’s leg? How the hell is he going to race?”

“Right? Even though he’s been in rehab for the past year, no one recovers that fast.”

“I heard he lost his entire right foot.”

Even after a full year, hearing those words still made my body tremble uncontrollably.

A reporter shoved a microphone toward Melanie: “Ms. Cross, word is you came today to support your new boyfriend’s racing debut. Seeing how close you two are, are wedding bells ringing soon?”

Melanie turned, glaring icily at the reporter.

“Is that any of your business?”

As if sensing a presence behind her, she turned around.

Her gaze locked directly onto mine.

Her body jerked with a violent jolt.

In that split second, the roaring engines and cheering crowds seemed to fade into complete silence.

I stared right back through the crowd, meeting the same cold, ruthless eyes I remembered.

Memories from a year ago flooded back into my head.

Back then, I had just been discharged from the hospital, spending my days recovering at home.

Bored out of my mind, I cooked dinner for Melanie every evening so she would have a hot meal waiting.

She had always complained about my busy schedule, so I genuinely thought having me home would make her happy.

At first, she was thrilled. She would sigh and say: “It’s so nice to finally see you every day when I get home.”

The honeymoon phase didn't last. Less than six months later, she dumped me.

Her excuse was simple: she was bored.

She even told me: “I don’t want to spend the rest of my life chained to a cripple.”

I couldn't accept it. We had been together for five whole years.

Desperate for answers, I went to her corporate office to ask for another chance.

That was when I overheard her talking to her friends.

“Back when he was at his peak and spent that year overseas, I hated how little time he had for me.”

“Now that I broke his wings and made him stay home every day, I find him just as annoying. So I told him to get the hell out.”

That was the moment everything made sense.

She was the one who orchestrated the attack that took my right foot, forcing me to rely on a prosthetic limb for the rest of my days.

She had no idea that I hadn't spent that year racing.

I had already negotiated my early retirement with my team.

I spent those twelve months planning the most magnificent wedding for her, wanting nothing more than to make her my wife.