Her Lover Shaved My Head; I Stripped Her of Everything

Harrison's POV Because little by little, he crossed the line. Instead of trying to improve himself, he spent all his energy clinging to Abigail, hoping to ride on her coattails. To make her laugh, he didn’t hesitate to humiliate me. Eventually, it escalated into open provocation. He slipped a cockroach into my lunchbox. He swapped the warm water in my cup for boiling water, nearly a hundred degrees. And every time, it ended with the same excuse that it was just a prank. I lost my temper more than once. But Abigail only said, “That’s what young people are like, full of energy, lively, even cute.” Even this time, I still foolishly held onto a sliver of hope that the ending would be different. But how stupid and laughable I was to even dream of that. “Dr. Mason, the surgery is about to begin.” A nurse’s voice cut through the tense silence. “Let’s leave it at that,” Abigail said, glancing at me. “No one is to bring this up again.” Then she grabbed Logan’s hand and added, “You’ll be my assistant today.” “Okay,” Logan replied, but didn’t forget to shoot me a provocative look as he turned back. He even pushed the door wide open on purpose. Outside, there were plenty of nurses and patients. When they saw my shaved head, they froze for a second, then lowered their heads together, struggling not to laugh. I clenched my fists but said nothing. With my bare head exposed, I walked out of the hospital. The biting winter wind sliced across my scalp like a blade. And yet, it made my mind clearer than ever. I pulled out my phone and made a call. “Sis, help me deal with someone.” “Who?” She answered with a single word—sharp, dangerous. After all, she was a social powerhouse of the capital. Every rich young heir turned pale at the mention of her name. “The person you hate most in that hospital.” I smiled faintly. “Leave it to me!” She let out a laugh like a mischievous little devil. A cold glint flashed in my eyes. After all these years, it seemed Abigail had forgotten that I, too, had once clawed my way out of blood and violence like a tiger. I was never a soft target. After hanging up, I went home and pulled two notebooks from a drawer. One had my name on it. The other had Abigail’s. When we got married, we made an agreement that whenever one of us was wronged, we’d record it on a page. When the notebook was filled, it meant the chances were used up, and so was the love. In the past, even when we argued or I felt hurt, I never wrote anything down because problems could be solved by talking, and there was no third person involved. That was, until Logan started working at the hospital. The first time I wrote in it, I only meant to warn Abigail, to tell her to rein it in. But page after page, without realizing it, I reached the very last one, and this final page recorded every grievance I had left. Just then, Logan sent me a message. [Harrison, what do you think of this tattoo? Looks good?] The picture showed half a maple leaf, with the letter “A” hidden inside. The meaning was obvious. It stood for Abigail. Yet, I didn’t reply. Instead, I waited for Abigail to come home and tossed the notebook onto the table. “Sign it and put your fingerprint on it.” That was also part of our agreement that grievances had to be acknowledged by the other party. “It’s the last page?” Abigail froze for a moment. “What else would it be?” I narrowed my eyes, glancing at her right wrist. A hint of a tattoo was visible there. Noticing my gaze, she tugged down her sleeve. As she signed, she complained, “You’re getting more and more petty. You even write down this kind of trivial nonsense. Trying to threaten me with some crappy notebook? That trick stopped working a long time ago.” She looked completely indifferent. What she didn’t know was that I had always taken this seriously. After signing and pressing her fingerprint, Abigail casually tossed the notebook back to me.

Harrison's POV “Fine. Spend the rest of your life clinging to that pettiness of yours.” With that, Abigail turned and went to take a shower. My heart clenched sharply. After a long moment, I let out a quiet sigh. The girl who once kissed me in the rain, who swore she would love only me for the rest of her life, had died somewhere in this chaotic, glittering world. That night, Abigail opened the bedroom door. But I never went in. Early the next morning, my sister sent me a message. [Bro, just wait and enjoy the show.] I couldn’t help but feel a flicker of anticipation. Then I went to the hospital with Abigail. As soon as we arrived, a nurse rushed over. “Dr. Mason! Please go check on Mr. Price. Something’s happened to him!” Abigail’s face changed instantly. She hurried after the nurse, nearly twisting her ankle in her panic. I curled my lips into a faint smile and followed behind. Inside the director’s office, Logan was hiding in the corner, wearing nothing but his underwear. Not only his head, but even his eyebrows had been completely shaved off. His entire body was covered in tattoos of half a butterfly. The only difference was that the letters hidden inside the designs weren’t initials anymore. They were replaced with words jerk, idiot, and gay. I almost laughed out loud. That was my little sister for you—truly worthy of her title as the Capital’s Social Powerhouse. This was exactly my kind of justice. “Logan, who did this to you?” Ignoring all propriety, Abigail rushed forward and pulled him into her arms, her eyes filled with pain and concern. Logan lifted his head and stared straight at me. With absolute certainty in his voice, he pointed at me and accused, “It was you! No one else hates me enough to do this! I’m just a country bumpkin! I just like playing harmless jokes! Why would you make me suffer this kind of humiliation and torture? I just want to die! I want to die!” As soon as he finished shouting, he scrambled to his feet and charged toward the window, only to be held back tightly by Abigail. “Logan. Don’t be afraid. I’ll make sure you get justice.” She kept comforting him. Her eyes brimmed with tears, and a few drops fell. It dragged me right back to that rainy night. Almost the same look, same expression. So, that was it. Her love had changed hands. Her heart had flown far away. “Harrison!” Abigail’s furious shout snapped me out of my thoughts. “I’m realizing you’re getting more and more vicious! Just because Logan shaved your head, you take it this far and bully him like this? Have you no shame?” “He shaved my head,” I said coldly, letting out a laugh. “I returned the favor. Now we’re even. Besides, doesn’t he like getting couple tattoos with you? I just helped him out. One more tattoo means one more declaration of love for you.” Abigail’s face darkened instantly. She clenched her teeth and said, “Logan and I are not that kind of relationship. I value his talent, potential, and thoughtfulness. Not someone like you—petty, unreasonable, always stirring up trouble. Not someone as malicious as you!” I never imagined that one day, Abigail would describe me with words like these. All that sincerity, fed straight to the dogs. “Let’s get a divorce. If you think he’s so great, then go be with him,” I said with finality. I didn’t want to waste any more breath arguing. I dropped those words and turned to leave. But behind me, Logan’s dissatisfied voice rang out. “Abigail, didn’t you say you’d get justice for me? You’re just letting him walk away like this? Won’t everyone think I’m easy to bully now? That they can humiliate me whenever they want? You lied to me! I really wish I could just die right now!”

Harrison's POV Even watching his drama, I only let out a cold laugh. Perhaps Logan didn’t know that everything Abigail had today was built by my own hands. The moment I reached the parking garage, more than a dozen bodyguards blocked my way. Instantly, my heart sank. I never would’ve imagined that for Logan’s sake, she actually dared to move against me. Outnumbered and powerless, I was taken by force to a villa. The first thing I saw was a large photo of Abigail and Logan hanging on the wall. A chill spread through my chest. All this time, Abigail claimed she preferred to live low-key, insisting we stay in an ordinary apartment complex. Yet she’d given Logan an entire villa. So, this was her version of “keeping it discreet.” Hiding a younger man in a golden cage—how impressive. Truly impressive. Soon after, Abigail walked downstairs arm in arm with Logan, looking every bit like the lady and master of the house. Especially Logan. He was wearing a wig now, dressed in a perfectly tailored custom suit. When he looked at me, the corner of his mouth lifted in open mockery. “Harrison,” Abigail said coldly. “People online say that smooth seas never made a skilled sailor, and that a man earns his backbone the hard way. So, you’ll have to pay the price for hurting Logan.” Her beautiful eyes locked onto mine, filled with anger. “What?” I narrowed my eyes. “You’re going to lay hands on me? Have you forgotten what family I came from? Or where your status today came from?” Abigail fell silent. Seeing this, Logan quickly fanned the flames. “Abigail, he’s mocking you. He’s saying you’re just a pretty vase, that without him, you’re nothing. Not even as good as a stray dog on the street.” Those words struck their mark. Abigail clenched her fists and said to me, “Back then, you dared to stand against your entire family for me. You used every resource you had to get a top medical master to take me in as a disciple. You stayed abroad with me for two years. You’re also the one who opened this hospital for me. But that was all in the past.” As she spoke, she hooked her arm through Logan’s and walked forward. At the same time, several bodyguards forced me to the ground. One of them even stepped hard on my face. “Abigail! Have you forgotten the promise you once made?!” I glared at her, teeth clenched in fury. Her steps halted. Slowly, she turned back, a complicated light flickering in her eyes. That rainy night, I had torn ties with my family. She ran toward me through the rain and swore to the heavens, “Harrison, even if we face blades and seas of fire in the future, I’ll stand in front of you. I won’t allow anyone to hurt you. Otherwise, may I die a horrible death.” And yet now, as we looked at each other, we might as well have been enemies. “Abigail!” Logan quickly interrupted again. “If he dared to do this to me today, who knows what he’ll dare to do tomorrow? And my body still hurts like hell. If you go soft now, then all this suffering I went through will be for nothing.” That aggrieved tone sounded like a devil’s whisper, seductive and poisonous. It snapped clarity into Abigail’s eyes. “Harrison,” she said calmly. “After this, you’ll learn to restrain yourself, to be obedient, sensible, and generous.” This time, she turned around and walked away without looking back. Logan, on the other hand, was practically smiling to the heavens. He even mouthed, 'Harrison, you lost.' The villa doors slammed shut with a bang. The looks the bodyguards gave me turned dark and menacing. “Mr. Foster,” one of them said. “Don’t blame us for being ruthless. We’re just doing what we’re paid to do. Mr. Price instructed us not to let you live.” Once I was dead, Logan could take my place, inherit everything I owned, and openly sleep with my wife. What a neat little plan. “You think you can kill me?” I let out a cold laugh. The dozen bodyguards burst into mocking laughter, sneering that I was nothing but a cooked duck—tough talk with no way out. One of them then took out a bottle of pills, while another pried my mouth open. But at that exact moment, the villa doors were kicked open. Then a sharp female shout rang out, “You dare lay a hand on my brother? I’ll chop off your filthy pig hooves!”