Chapter 2

I stayed up all night watching every publicly available video.

Little by little, I pieced together the love story he was telling.

So Adrian had once loved someone with that much passion and sincerity.

His beloved Sophie had actually been his tutor in high school.

She had come from an extremely poor family.

Adrian’s mother normally wouldn’t have hired an impoverished college student as a private tutor.

But Sophie was exceptional.

With near-perfect entrance scores, she’d gotten into one of Harvard’s most competitive programs.

And students she tutored could improve their test scores by at least fifty points, sometimes after a single lesson.

Her outstanding record had persuaded Adrian’s mother to make an exception and hire her.

Adrian had fallen for Sophie almost at first sight.

At first, Sophie had firmly rejected him. Adrian, however, pursued her relentlessly.

After nearly a year of push and pull, Sophie’s defenses had finally crumbled. They’d fallen passionately in love.

The ending was painfully cliché. Adrian’s mother had offered Sophie ten million dollars to leave him, and she’d taken the money.

At that point in the interview, Adrian sighed with regret.

“I was too helpless back then. I didn’t dare stand up to my family.

“If I’d been stronger, maybe Sophie wouldn’t have left me…”

The comments were unanimous.

“He’s the ultimate hopeless romantic! Please, universe, let me meet a gorgeous, lovesick man like this before menopause!”

“His first love was obviously a gold digger, but he’s still making excuses for her and blaming himself for being weak. I’m actually crying…”

People were even posting song lyrics about being alone forever, hoping to attract a love like his.

Using an alternate account, I replied to the comment calling him a gorgeous romantic.

“Romantic? Sounds more like an idiot. He couldn’t deal with his own family, but he chased a girl anyway so he could feel good about himself. Only after they got together did he realize he couldn’t handle the consequences. Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

A flood of replies attacked me. “Another troll hiding behind a fake account. Your real life must be miserable if you’re this bitter.”

I fell silent and smiled bitterly. Looking at my son, still asleep in his hospital bed, I had to admit that life was miserable.

When I’d rallied the Bennett family’s resources to help restore Hayes Group, I hadn’t heard this story.

After Adrian and I had spent more than a decade supporting each other, surviving every open attack and hidden trap in business, Hayes Group had finally climbed to new heights. Now he wanted to reminisce about his first love.

Miserable indeed.