At that party, William had a heated argument with someone he once called a true friend, Ricky, a freeloading parasite who hung around only for the perks of knowing the Adam heir.
He'd just discovered that Ricky had scammed him, stealing over five thousand yuan from one of his side accounts. But it wasn't the money that stung, it was the betrayal.
Tessy, his girlfriend, was the mastermind behind it.
Though William had a reputation for being playful and wild, he genuinely liked Tessy. She was one of the few he thought he could someday settle down with.
When he confronted them, Ricky had only laughed.
"What do you care, rich boy? You don't even know what hard work is."
And Tessy? She smirked and called him a "spoiled little brat."
Before he knew it, William's temper snapped. He grabbed Tessy by the wrist, but Ricky punched him square in the nose. That was how the fight started, a messy, humiliating brawl. Ricky and his friends beat him up while people watched. Cameras flashing, no one stepped in.
William stumbled out, blood on his lip, his pride has been stepped on. His face flushed red with rage and shame.
He jumped into his car and sped off into the night, his heart pounding, mind clouded by anger and alcohol. But before he could cool off, a car rammed into him from behind near an underpass.
Furious, he got out, shouting,
"Hey! You morons! Do you know how much this car costs?"
The car behind him stopped, and four masked men stepped out. Two grabbed him before he could react, shoving him into the backseat of his own car. The other took the wheel.
They drove him to an abandoned warehouse in a lonely street. And there, the real nightmare began.
They tied him to a chair, beat him, and demanded a ransom.
His first instinct was to call his father, Mr. Adam, the man who always cleaned up his messes.
But the call didn't go through.
He tried again.
And again.
No answer.
Panic crawled up his throat. Could Father have given up on me? Is this how I'm going to die?
In desperation, he called Veronica.
Veronica was a classmate from years ago the heiress of another wealthy family. He'd never liked her much back then; she wasn't his type. But they'd recently reconnected at the airport, and she'd shown a soft spot for him.
Still, calling her now, begging for help, made his stomach twist.
He swallowed hard and dialed.
"Veronica," his voice cracked, weak and desperate, "please… I need your help. They've kidnapped me. I need" he named a large sum,...."to free myself. My father's unreachable. Please… they'll kill me."
"kidnapped?! Where are you? What happened?" her voice came sharp with panic.
He couldn't say much, but she understood quickly. Within minutes, she had their account details and transferred the ransom.
Few minutes later, they cut him loose, but not before taking his car and stripping him down to his pants.
He stumbled out of the warehouse like a madman. Luck found him in the form of an old taxi driver, who stopped and offered help. The driver even bought him a cheap shirt and trousers from a roadside shop.
By the time William reached the mansion gates, his whole body ached with bruises.
He had no money, so he asked one of the maids to pay the driver. "Thank you," he whispered hoarsely, before staggering inside.
He couldn't bring himself to go upstairs.
Instead, he sank onto the staircase, trembling, not from the cold, but from everything that had happened.
All those wild nights, those parties, the laughter, it all suddenly felt empty.
He stared at his bruised knuckle.
"Did Dad ignore me on purpose? Or am I really that useless now?"
His father's voice echoed in his head:
"You're reckless."
"You treat this family name like it's a joke."
"You'll ruin everything I've built."
"You'll never be ready, will you?"
He had always laughed those warnings off until tonight.
When his mother was alive, things were different. If he locked himself in his room upset, she would sit outside his door until he was ready to talk.
She never scolded, never shouted.
She understood him.
But now… she was gone. And his father only cared about him being an heir.
He looked toward the framed picture on the wall, his mother smiling softly beside him as a child.
"Mom… I'm so lost," he whispered.
He sat there for what felt like forever, staring at her face. The silence wrapped around him like a fog.
When his other phone finally buzzed on the table nearby, he saw several missed calls, all from Veronica.
He called her back instantly.
"William? Are you okay?" came her voice, trembling.
He exhaled softly. "Yeah… I'm alright."
"You didn't call back. I was scared out of my mind. What happened? Are you hurt? Did they....?
"I'm okay now," he said quietly, and his voice made her heart twist. "I'll explain everything tomorrow. I promise."
There was a pause. Then she said gently,
"William… I couldn't just sit and watch them harm you. You don't have to thank me."
"But I do," he said. "And I'll return the money. Every cent."
"No," she replied firmly. "You won't. It wasn't just money… it was a favor. From me to you."
He smiled faintly. Her voice calmed him like medicine.
"Thank you," he murmured.
"Just take care of yourself, okay? Don't stress too much."
" I won't."
"Alright then," she said softly. "Sleep well, Will. Love you."
"Love you too."
The line went silent.
He placed the phone on the floor, the screen's light fading slowly. For a moment, the chaos of the day seemed to lift.
Dragging his weary body to the bathroom, he stepped into the shower. The water ran warm against his bruised skin, stinging at first, then easing the pain.
As it flowed down his face and neck, he tilted his head back, eyes closed.
Maybe for the first time in years, William Adam felt humiliated.