Impenitent Until the System Erased Me

My CEO girlfriend promised to marry me if only I handed over my billion-dollar-worth project to her first love. I agreed without hesitation. Yet on the day we were supposed to make things official, she never showed up. I called her 99 times, but she didn't pick up once. Just when I was about to give up, I saw a post from her first love on social media, featuring a picture of them holding their newly issued marriage license. [From school uniforms to wedding vows. A love that never changes.] I quietly liked the post without making a scene. Moments later, my long-lost girlfriend finally called back. "Cyrus got into a car accident trying to save me, and he lost his memory. The doctors say he needs emotional stimulation to recover. Don't worry, though. Once he gets better, we'll get married. You're the one I love most." What she didn't know was that there would be no future for us. The moment she stood me up at City Hall, the system I'd bound myself to declared my mission a failure. I had seven days left. After that, I would be completely erased from existence. Chapter 1 I was just about to end the call when a man's voice came through the other end. "Sierra, who are you talking to? The ceremony is about to start." Sierra York answered him almost immediately. "It's a client. I'll be done in a minute." Then she lowered her voice and spoke to me as though I were the one causing a problem. "Babe, don't start. I'm getting married today. I'll call you back when I'm done." The line went dead, leaving me stunned in place. A staff member nearby glanced at me and asked cautiously, "Sir, are you still going to go through with the paperwork?" I shook my head and walked out of the office. A stranger on the sidewalk must have noticed how miserable I looked. He held out a cigarette, saying, "Hey, man. Don't let it get to you. There are plenty of fish in the sea. Don't waste your life hanging on one person." I was about to decline when something suddenly crossed my mind. I'd been a heavy smoker once. Ten years ago, Sierra had casually mentioned that she hated the smell of cigarettes, and I'd quit cold turkey. For ten years, I hadn't touched one because she didn't like it. And now? I wasn't going to spend the last few days of my life trying to please her anymore. "Thanks." I took the cigarette and leaned over to let him light it for me. As the flame flickered to life, a massive digital billboard on the building across the street suddenly lit up with a live wedding broadcast. The bride was none other than Sierra. How absurdly hilarious it was! On the very day the system had announced that I was destined to disappear, Sierra was giving the man she loved the wedding of a lifetime. People passing by stopped to watch the livestream, their voices filled with envy. "Ms. York really is devoted. She has everything, and she still kept the promise she made to her first love and married the guy she grew up with." ... The man who had given me the cigarette nudged me. "See that? Man, you really picked the wrong person. A rich woman who's loyal, keeps her promises, and doesn't stand you up? That's the kind you want. "Take my advice. That girlfriend of yours who didn't even show up to marry you? Dump her as soon as you can." The people around me cheered, excited about the wedding, but I couldn't bring myself to smile. Because the woman they were praising was my girlfriend, and she just happened to be marrying someone else. As more people gathered around the livestream, a reporter's voice came through the speakers. "Ms. York, you've said in the past that you didn't want your marriage made public. What changed your mind this time?" Sierra stood before the cameras in a breathtaking wedding dress, smiling like the happiest woman in the world. "That was before," she replied smoothly. "When you finally meet the person you truly love, you want to give him everything. Compared to that, what does one wedding matter?" I slowly exhaled a cloud of smoke, feeling a sting in my eyes. So, that was the truth. Keeping our ten-year relationship a secret hadn't been about protecting her career after all. She simply didn't love me. When you truly loved someone, you'd do what Sierra was doing for Cyrus Michel. You'd give him a place in your life, put your relationship before the world, and make sure everyone knew he was the one you had chosen. I abruptly stood up, surprising the man beside me. "Hey, where are you going? Stay and watch the stream with us. Join in on the fun!" I glanced at the giant screen as Sierra and Cyrus exchanged rings. Then I shook my head and crushed the cigarette beneath my shoe. "I'm going to congratulate the happy couple." I walked into the wedding venue carrying the present I'd originally intended to give Sierra on the day she became my wife. I hadn't even been inside for long when word reached her. Sierra hurried over and grabbed my arm, pulling me toward a secluded corner before anyone could notice us. She was wearing the wedding dress I'd designed for her. The diamond ring on her finger was the one I'd chosen for her. Everything looked perfect, but she wasn't marrying me. Chapter 2 Sierra pressed two fingers to her temple, clearly losing patience. "I already told you. I'm only helping Cyrus recover. Can't you be a little more understanding?" My chest tightened at her words. I could still remember the moment the system had warned me about my deadline. Desperate, I had begged her, "Sierra, what if I die because we don't get married this time? Would you at least come with me to get the license?" She had simply brushed me off. "I've told you already. Cyrus is in my past. Stop making a big deal out of it." When I refused to let it go, she had finally relented. "Fine. Give Cyrus the project you're working on, and I'll marry you." I had believed her, thinking that if I swallowed my jealousy, let her stay close to her first love, and even handed over the project I'd worked so hard to secure, I'd finally get the future I'd been fighting for. I was wrong. Sierra had agreed to marry me, only to stand me up and turn around to marry Cyrus instead. She had given him everything I had sacrificed, and now that she had taken even my last chance at life, she still wanted me to be understanding. What a joke! I held out the gift I'd brought. "Happy wedding." Inside the box was the watch Sierra had bought me ten years ago when she first confessed her feelings. She had spent more than a thousand dollars on it—an enormous sum for two people who could barely afford to eat properly back then. I'd treasured it all these years because I thought it represented the love we'd built together. Now that things between us were over, it was time to return it to its rightful owner. Sierra took the box and realized she'd misunderstood me. An awkward expression crossed her face, but before she could speak, Cyrus walked over. "Sierra, everyone is waiting for you." He glanced at me as though he'd only just noticed I was there. "Who's this?" He pretended not to know me, but there was no mistaking the hostility hidden deep in his eyes. I was certain he hadn't lost his memory at all. Yet Sierra, who had always prided herself on being an excellent judge of character, failed to see through him. "Just a friend," she quickly replied. "He came to drop off a gift." "Thanks." Cyrus broke into a smile. He opened the box right in front of everyone and let out an exaggerated gasp. "Wait... Why an old watch?" Several people nearby looked over, and whispers quickly spread through the room. "Giving an old watch at a high-society wedding? Is this guy trying to humiliate them?" ... Cyrus turned to Sierra with a wounded expression. "It's okay, Sierra," he said thoughtfully. "I trust you. Your friend must have brought it to wish us well. I'll put it on right now so he won't feel embarrassed." But when he slipped the watch onto his wrist, he looked reluctant. Sierra shot me an irritated look before immediately comforting him. "You don't like it? Then take it off. You don't have to force yourself." Cyrus shook his head stubbornly. "No. It's a gift from your friend. I have to wear it." As the two of them tussled over the watch, it slipped from Cyrus's hand and crashed to the floor. The crystal face shattered on impact. Without thinking, Cyrus reached down and pressed his palm against the broken glass. In the next instant, a sharp cry escaped his mouth, and he quickly pulled his hand back. A tiny bead of blood welled from his finger as he frowned. The moment Sierra saw him bleeding, even though the cut was barely more than a scratch, her expression turned furious. She grabbed the watch by its broken strap and hurled it at me. "I knew you didn't come here with good intentions. Security, get him out!" She immediately called over the medical staff and hovered around Cyrus, fussing over the tiny cut as though he'd suffered a serious injury. The watch she'd thrown at me, meanwhile, had sliced across my face. Blood trickled down my cheek, warm against my skin, but I barely felt it. "Mr. Hanson, please leave!" The security guards who used to treat me with utmost respect now rushed to please their employer. Four men grabbed hold of me and carried me outside before dumping me onto the gravel. I hit the ground hard enough to feel as though every bone in my body had been cracked. Unable to get back up, I simply lay there and stared up at the blue sky. Eventually, my phone vibrated. Sierra had wired 100,000 dollars into my account, following up with a text. [Go to the hospital yourself. And if that scar leaves a mark on your face, I really will stop caring about you.] I didn't accept the money. Instead, I forced myself upright, picked up the shattered watch covered in my blood, and threw it into the nearest trash can. If she didn't want me, so be it. For those last seven days, I wanted to live for myself. Chapter 3 I stopped sending Sierra my usual good-morning and good-night messages, and I no longer bothered replying when she texted me. On the second day, I went to a dingy gaming lounge she hated, spent the entire night smoking and gaming, and stayed until dawn. On the third day, I sold every gift she'd ever given me and donated the money to charity. On the fourth, I gathered the photographs we'd taken together over the years and set them all on fire. "Ms. York is only temporarily blinded by her feelings," the housekeeper advised me. "She still loves you. The two of you built everything together, and it wasn't easy to get where you are now. You should fight for her. Don't let Cyrus take your place." There was some truth in what he said. When Sierra had first entered my life, she was an ordinary woman with nothing to her name. The system had ordered me to win her over, so I stayed by her side and helped her build her company from the ground up. Whenever there was dirty work, I did it. Whenever there was a difficult project, I took it on. More than once, I drank until I ended up in the ER just to close crucial deals for her. She wanted money. She wanted prestige. She wanted to become a CEO. I gave her all of it. When we finally made enough money to buy the mansion we had once dreamed about, Sierra had cried in my arms and promised that she'd love me for the rest of her life. And yet, in the end, she became the very person who signed my death warrant. ... I shook my head and flicked my cigarette into the fire consuming our photographs. The person she truly loved was Cyrus. No matter how hard I fought to get her back, all I'd be doing was humiliating myself. The housekeeper sighed, then took matters into his own hands and called Sierra. That evening, I had barely reached the bottom of the stairs when I saw her standing in the living room with a whole display case of designer watches. "I misunderstood you the other day," she started, unapologetic. "But if you hadn't shown up, Cyrus wouldn't have gotten hurt. "Anyway, I'm sorry about smashing that gift you brought. Honestly, that watch was so cheap. So, pick something more expensive. You'll come out ahead." She sounded almost playful, just as she used to, and reached out as though she were about to touch the wound on my face. I simply stepped away. She had forgotten that the watch was something she had spent every cent on buying me years ago. Now, she dismissed it as cheap. Maybe that was what her love had always been worth. Cheap! And I'd been the idiot who cherished it for ten years. "No thanks," I said nonchalantly, leaning back on the couch. "Give them to Cyrus. He is your husband now." Sierra opened her mouth, hesitation flickering in her eyes. Before she could say a word, Cyrus sauntered out of a guest bedroom in pajamas, conspicuously flaunting a custom watch on his wrist. "No need, Sierra," he said, his voice slow and deliberate. "The watches you buy me are worth millions. They're one-of-a-kind pieces. I wouldn't be caught dead wearing something this tacky." Sierra raised an eyebrow without calling him out. Cyrus suddenly let out an exaggerated gasp and clamped his hand over his mouth. "Oh, my bad!" he groaned. "I'm just a straight shooter, blurting out whatever comes to mind. Please take no offense, Orlando. By the way, Sierra told me you're her senior from college and that you helped her a lot back then. I should toast you for that." I snapped my head toward Sierra. She had promised me this place was our sacred sanctuary, meant strictly for the two of us. But now, she had brought another man into it. The moment she saw my expression, she clasped her hands together and gave me a pleading look, silently begging me to play along. But I was no longer the man who bent over backward for her every whim. I was done swallowing this humiliation. I raised my glass, clinking it against the empty air in his direction. "Don't worry. You weren't saying anything that required a brain." The smile on Cyrus's face froze, and Sierra's brow shot up. "Apologize, Orlando!" she demanded. Cyrus had walked into my home, provoking me. And somehow, I was the one expected to apologize? Not a chance! I ignored her and went upstairs. From above, I could hear Sierra soothing Cyrus with all kinds of sweet words, pampering him like a fragile child. I'd never received that kind of tenderness from her. Not once. Eventually, the house fell quiet. I went downstairs to find something to eat, only to discover that Cyrus was still there. He sauntered over with a smug grin plastered across his face. "Must feel awful having your wife stolen right out from under your nose, doesn't it?" he taunted. "Let me tell you something. I never lost my memory. I was pretending the whole time." I poured myself a glass of water, barely glancing at him. "Oh." I knew exactly what he was trying to do. He wanted to provoke me into losing my temper. But to a man already marked for death, nothing mattered anymore. Chapter 4 When Cyrus realized I wasn't taking the bait and heard footsteps approaching from the hall, the smugness on his face vanished, and a flicker of panic crossed his eyes. In a desperate attempt to play the victim, he knocked over a nearby chair, punched himself square in the cheek, and collapsed onto the floor in a weeping, crumpled heap. "Cyrus! What happened?" Sierra rushed over at the commotion, checking him from head to toe. Cyrus clutched his face, whimpering in pain. "I just wanted to apologize to your old friend, but he attacked me!" "Orlando Hanson!" Sierra snapped, kicking over the takeout containers she'd brought with her. "When did you become so malicious? How could you lay a hand on him? "I went out of my way to pick up your favorite food. Now, forget it. I'd rather throw it at the dogs than give it to you." The food spilled across the floor was indeed from my favorite restaurant. So what? She hadn't even asked me what happened or checked the security footage. She'd simply taken Cyrus's word for it and decided I was guilty. It made sense. When you stopped loving someone, you stopped trusting them, too. When I remained silent, she repeated herself, stressing her tone. "What are you waiting for? Apologize to Cyrus!" Apologize? Fine. If I was already going to be blamed for something I hadn't done, I might as well make sure the accusation had some truth behind it. I grabbed the nearest bottle from the table and brought it crashing down on Cyrus's head. "I'm sorry," I said calmly. "I guess I didn't hit you hard enough the first time. My mistake." Blood immediately began running from the wound. "Cyrus!" Sierra rushed to him, frantically trying to stop the bleeding while calling for medical help. In no time, she broke into a nervous sweat. She stayed with Cyrus until the ambulance arrived and only then turned her attention back to me. She barked, "Security, lock him in the storage room! Three days! Let him think about what he's done!" Her eyes were cold with anger. "You enjoy hitting people so much? Then keep it up in there." She climbed into the ambulance with Cyrus and left without another glance. Several security guards grabbed me and crudely dragged me down the hall. Worried I might try to escape, they locked me in a windowless room and fastened heavy restraints around my wrists and ankles. The moment the heavy door slammed shut, darkness engulfed me. I never imagined that the final three days of my life would be spent trapped in a place like this. I thought that was as bad as things could get, but the worst was yet to come. Cyrus wasn't planning to let me go that easily. On the first day, he came back with his head wrapped in gauze and ordered the guards to stop bringing me food and water. For the next three days, he wanted me left completely without anything to eat or drink. On the second day, he came in and kicked me repeatedly until my stomach churned, and I was left vomiting bitter stomach acid. By the third day, he'd found a barbed whip. He used it until my clothes were soaked through with blood, leaving my skin covered in raw, bleeding wounds. "Aren't you afraid Sierra will find out you're doing this?" I said numbly. "So what if she does?" He merely shrugged. "She's so obsessed with me that she'd never believe your side of the story." He crouched beside me and patted my cheek. "You're getting out of here soon anyway. Go ahead and test it. Find out who she would believe. If it were me, I wouldn't try that and bring more misery on myself." He pressed his thumb down on my open wound, watching with sadistic glee as blood soaked through my dark shirt. Only then did he walk out victorious. He was right about one thing, though. Sierra would never believe me. But by then, it didn't matter anymore because the system countdown had finally reached zero. The moment the heavy door slammed shut, my consciousness began to fade. Memories of Sierra and me flooded through my mind—the days when we were deeply in love, our shared laughter, and our tender dreams for the future. For a moment, everything was perfect. Then the memories shattered like glass, and every fragment dissolved into nothingness. A bitter smile crossed my lips as my arm finally went limp, falling to the floor. "Sierra, in this life or the next, I never want to meet you again." ... That evening, Sierra finally returned home from the office and remembered the boyfriend she'd ordered locked away. She carried a food container to the storage room and pushed open the door. "Orlando, honey," she called out. "I kept you locked up for three days, so you must be starving. I made you something to help you get your strength back." There was no answer. She frowned and slowly looked around the room until her eyes landed on something in the corner. Her pupils contracted, and the food container slipped from her hand. It crashed to the floor, splattering food across the tiles.