Chapter 7
Ethan stood frozen after hearing his father’s words.
Yes… everything that happened was his own doing.
Who else could he blame?
Without another word, he turned and walked away. He returned to his room, locked the door, and sat in silence for a long time.
Then, slowly, he picked up Claire’s diary again.
He read every page. Then reread it.
Almost every entry was about him-his birthday, his likes, his habits, his offhand comments she remembered for years.
Every line radiated her quiet, unwavering love.
Ethan wept until his tears dried up, and only then did sleep take him.
In his dream, he saw them-he and Claire-dressed in wedding clothes.
They were married.
But the dream was bleak, not joyful.
Year after year passed in the dream, just like in real life.
Claire did everything for him. She revolutionized Linwood Pharmaceuticals, led research breakthroughs, and became the soul of the company.
And yet… he remained cold. Distant.
For five years of marriage, he never once truly embraced her.
Then, one day, he finally touched her-not out of love, but calculation.
Because he wanted a child.
But even that child was not hers. He had used Sabrina’s eggs, lying to everyone.
To Claire most of all.
And the cruelest part?
Claire loved the child regardless.
She doted on him, cared for the family, played the part of a perfect wife and mother.
But behind her back, Ethan poisoned the child’s heart-planting doubts, turning the boy against
her.
And then… she fell ill.
Sick and frail, she lay in bed begging for treatment.
He denied her money, denied her help, and even dragged her back home like luggage.
The final blow-
He poured gasoline over her as she cried, and in that moment, something inside him shattered.
“No! No-!”
Ethan bolted upright, screaming, soaked in sweat.
Was it a dream?
A vision?
A memory?
He didn’t know anymore.
All he knew was that it felt real.
Too real.
Minutes later, he ran out of the villa like a madman, tears streaming down his face.
He dropped to his knees outside his father’s residence, his voice hoarse from crying.
“Dad-please! Please help me find Claire!”
“I was wrong… I was blind, I destroyed everything! But I just want her back… I just want her back…”
His sobs echoed through the courtyard, gut-wrenching, like a man grieving for a soul he buried with his own hands.
He was too late.
Meanwhile…
On the first day of joining the National Laboratory, I-Claire-was treated as a special case placed under direct guidance.
refused to work on any drugs previously linked to Linwood Pharmaceuticals.
nstead, I built my own team from the ground up.
n the beginning, no one took me seriously.
was only 25.
Some even whispered that my PhD had been bought by the Linwood family.
But then I brought out my original research data-meticulous, cutting-edge-and shared it freely with the entire department.
That changed everything.
earned their respect, not with my name, but with my work.
Years passed like a blink.
n just five years, I had risen to become the Director of the Medical Research Department.
No drug in the laboratory could begin development without my review.
No experimental group could be formed without my signature.
t wasn’t just status.
It was power.
But more importantly, it was purpose.
With the nation’s backing, I took the country’s pharmaceutical standards to new global heights. Production costs dropped.
Imported drug dependency fell.
People across the country began to afford medication they had once only dreamed of.
And the national medical insurance fund, finally breathing, expanded its reach-saving lives, no rationing them.
“Dr. Foster, the car for tonight’s pharmaceutical summit is ready.”
My assistant stepped into the small but well-kept apartment the lab provided for me.
I didn’t even look up.
My hand continued gliding across the papers, ‘charts, and formulas I’d been working on.
1:52 pm D
