She Threw Him Away… Now He’s Untouchable

CHAPTER 7

The rain finally stopped as dawn broke, but the cold didn’t go away. It clung to Alexander’s skin, seeped into his bones, and settled heavy in his chest, a constant reminder of everything he had lost. He stood up from the bench where he had spent the night—wet, tired, and shivering—and looked around at the city that used to belong to him.

Or at least, he thought it did.

Now, every tall building, every fancy car, every billboard lighting up the streets… it all had her name written all over it. Hayes Group. Evelyn Hayes. The woman he threw away like trash.

He started walking. He didn’t have a destination, no money for a taxi, no home to go back to. The penthouse he lived in? It wasn’t his. He found that out last night too, from the last email he managed to read before his accounts were completely frozen. It was owned by a holding company under the Hayes family name. She had let him live there, pay the bills, act like the king of the world… while she quietly owned the roof over his head.

God, I was such a fool, he thought, dragging his feet along the pavement. Everything I touched, everything I had… it was all hers.

His stomach growled loudly, sharp and painful. He hadn’t eaten since yesterday morning. He had been too busy raging, too busy breaking things, too busy listening to lies. Now, standing in front of a small street vendor selling cheap breakfast sandwiches, he reached into his pocket, hoping… praying… he had left some cash there.

He pulled out a few crumpled bills. Not much. Barely enough for one small meal.

The vendor, an older man with rough hands and kind eyes, looked him up and down—at the expensive suit that was now muddy and wet, at the disheveled hair, at the dark circles under his eyes—and frowned.

“Rough night, Mister?”

Alexander nodded slowly, handing over the money. “Something like that.”

He took the food, sat down on the curb, and ate like he hadn’t eaten in years. And in a way, he hadn’t. Not like this. Not humbled, not broken, not realizing that the luxury he took for granted was all a gift from the woman he despised.

As he ate, his mind drifted back to the photo he had seen last night. Dr. Liam Carter.

He typed the name into his phone—his only remaining possession of value—and started reading. He had to know his enemy. He had to know who he was up against.

The more he read, the more his heart sank, the heavier it got.

Dr. Liam Carter. Age 32. Graduated top of his class from the most prestigious universities abroad. Specialist in pediatric medicine and genetics. Renowned for his kindness, his skill, and his family’s long-standing friendship with the Hayes family. Rumored to be the Hayes’ chosen candidate for Evelyn’s hand in marriage for years… until she married Alexander Knight.

Alexander stopped scrolling. His thumb hovered over the screen, his breath catching in his throat.

Chosen candidate.

He was never supposed to be there. He was just… a mistake. A detour. A pawn used in some game he didn’t even understand. And Liam? Liam was the one who belonged there. Liam was the one who was always meant to be by her side.

“Perfect,” Alexander muttered bitterly, shoving the phone back into his pocket. “Just perfect. Kind, rich, smart, famous… and he’s known her since she was a kid. Of course she’d feel safe with him. Of course she’d smile for him.”

He stood up, wiping the crumbs off his ruined suit. He had to change. He couldn’t walk around looking like a bankrupt CEO; it drew too much attention, too many whispers. People recognized him. He saw it in their eyes as they passed by. Look, that’s Alexander Knight. The one who lost everything. The i***t who threw away the Hayes heiress.

He walked toward the industrial district, the rougher side of town where buildings were old and rusted, where work was hard and paid cash daily. He remembered Mark saying something about warehouses, about how even without the company name, skills were still skills. He knew logistics. He knew management. He knew how to work hard when he had to.

And he had to. Because he needed money. Not for luxury. Not for suits or cars. He needed it to survive, to move, to track her down. He needed to build himself back up from zero, just to be worthy of standing in the same room as her again.

He found a job at a loading dock. Heavy lifting, manual labor, sweat and dust. The foreman looked at him skeptically, doubting he could handle it in his condition, but Alexander didn’t flinch. He stripped off his jacket, rolled up his sleeves, and got to work.

His muscles burned. His hands, soft from years of office work and signing papers, quickly developed blisters and scrapes. He gritted his teeth and kept going. Every box he lifted, every crate he moved, every drop of sweat that fell… he imagined it was payment. Payment for the three years he sat in an office chair, doing nothing while she suffered in silence.

“This is nothing,” he told himself, hauling a heavy container onto a stack. “She lived with me. She dealt with my coldness, my insults, my neglect every single day. If she could endure that for three years… I can endure this. I will endure worse.”

The day dragged on. By the time the sun started setting, his body was screaming in pain, exhausted to the bone. But as he walked away with a small stack of cash in his hand, dirty, sweaty, and tired… for the first time since she left, he felt something else besides regret.

Purpose.

He wasn’t just the ruined CEO anymore. He was a man fighting to get his family back.

He bought cheap clothes—simple jeans, a t-shirt, a jacket—and changed in a public restroom, throwing the designer suit into a trash bin with a sense of finality. He didn’t need it. That suit belonged to the man who treated her like trash. That man was dead.

Now, he was just… Alexander. A man with nothing but a goal.

He found a cheap motel—barely more than a room with a bed and a shower—and collapsed onto the mattress. He pulled out his phone again, going back to the only thing that kept him going. Her.

He zoomed in on the photo again. Evelyn stepping off the jet, radiant and beautiful. And Liam… Liam standing close, protective, smiling softly at her.

Alexander’s jaw tightened, jealousy flaring up hot and sharp in his chest, mixing with the familiar pain.

He watched the way Liam’s hand rested near her arm, the way he guided her carefully down the steps, the way his head was slightly bowed toward her, listening to whatever she said.

“He looks at her like she’s glass,” Alexander thought, hate and admiration warring inside him. “Like she’s something precious that might break. And I… I looked at her like she was dirt under my shoes.”

He traced the screen with his finger, touching the face of the woman he loved—the woman he only realized he loved when it was too late.

“You’re safe with him, aren’t you, Evelyn? He’s kind. He’s gentle. He treats you like a queen. He probably loves Ray too… treats our son like a prince.”

The thought of Ray made his heart ache worse than any physical injury. His son. A child he had never held, never seen, never even knew existed until the moment she walked out. A child who was probably growing up hearing stories about how useless and cruel his father was. A child who probably saw Liam as the father figure he never had.

“No,” Alexander whispered fiercely, sitting up abruptly, eyes burning in the dim light of the room. “He is my son. You are my wife. No matter how good he is, no matter how perfect… he is not me. And I am not giving up.”

He opened the browser again, digging deeper into Dr. Liam Carter’s background. He wasn’t just looking for dirt or mistakes anymore; he was looking for patterns. Where did he work? What hospitals? What clinics did he visit?

And then… he saw it.

A schedule. A charity event listing. A mention in a medical journal.

“Dr. Liam Carter will be residing at the Hayes Family Private Estate for the next six months, overseeing the establishment of a specialized pediatric care center and attending to personal family matters.”

Alexander froze. The blood drained from his face, then rushed back so fast his head spun.

Residing there.

He lived there.

He lived in the same house as Evelyn. He saw her every morning. He ate with her. He was there whenever she needed anything. He was there with his son.

Alexander let out a low, ragged breath, his hands shaking so hard he almost dropped the phone.

“Six months…” he murmured. “He’s living with her.”

Images flooded his mind, terrible, torturous images he couldn’t shut out no matter how hard he tried. Liam laughing with her. Liam helping her with Ray. Liam holding her hand. Liam doing all the things Alexander should have been doing for the last three years.

He stood up, pacing the small room like a caged animal, rage and agony tearing him apart.

“He thinks he won,” Alexander gritted out, eyes darkening with a terrifying intensity. “He thinks because I was an i***t, because I threw her away, that he gets to step in and take my place? That he gets to play husband and father to my family?”

He stopped pacing, looking at his reflection in the dirty mirror on the wall. He looked rough. Unshaven. Eyes hollow but burning with a fire that hadn’t been there before. He looked like a man who had lost everything… and therefore had nothing left to lose.

“He has six months,” Alexander said quietly, a cold, determined resolve settling deep into his soul. “He has six months to enjoy his time as the ‘perfect gentleman’. To play the hero. To be everything I wasn’t.”

He grabbed his things, shoving the money and phone into his pocket, already moving toward the door.

“But mark my words, Doctor… that time is running out.”

“I don’t care if I have to walk there. I don’t care if I have to sleep on the ground outside the gates. I don’t care if I have to crawl on my knees through mud and fire.”

He opened the door and stepped out into the night, looking up at the stars, somewhere far above where his wife and child were sleeping safely.

“I am coming.”

“And when I get there… when I finally stand face to face with you…”

A bitter, dark smile touched his lips.

“We will see exactly who she chooses. The perfect man who treats her like a queen… or the broken fool who is willing to destroy himself and the whole world… just to earn her forgiveness.”