The Fall You Deserve,Scumbag Boyfriend

I'm a covert field agent working on an overseas archaeological mission. After being recalled early for meritorious service, I was preparing to marry my arranged partner.

But as soon as I reached his office door, his childhood sweetheart berated me, "Your father wrecked the entire parking lot and set a fire that nearly destroyed the whole building!"

Our family home, passed down for over a dozen generations, was transferred to Miguel Hines's name because my father couldn't afford the compensation.

That same night, a mysterious post popped up on my social media feed, [Oak Ridge Has Hot Goods—Hurry Over]

Oak Ridge—wasn't that precisely where my house stood?

That was how I learned there was something beneath my house—not gold or treasure, but secrets about my father.

Of course, my father had been in a vegetative state for seven years now. 

That car-smashing arsonist absolutely wasn't him!

***

No sooner had I returned to my country than my blind date informed me he wanted to break up.

I tracked him down at his company, only to learn he'd taken over the Rose Cottage passed down through eighteen generations of my family.

His childhood sweetheart even turned around and took me straight to the police station.

Martha Potter angrily pulled out her phone in front of the officers, "The surveillance footage shows it clearly!"

On the screen, an old man who looked almost identical to my father was swinging a hammer wildly at cars in the parking lot.

"Officer, my father has been bedridden for seven years. He was taken back to the countryside long ago."

Thinking I was trying to deny it, Martha exploded, "Your father's name is Duncan Howard, right? How could this be fake?!"

I froze. "That is indeed my father's name."

Martha's tone turned sharp, "So it was your father who did this and you're deliberately playing dumb?"

Officer Lewis motioned for her to quiet down and produced the police report, "Ms. Howard, your father did commit these crimes. This is the police report from back then." 

"If your partner hadn't compensated promptly, your father would likely be in prison by now." 

I examined the police report closely. My father's signature was indeed at the bottom.

Martha seized the moment to ask me, "When did you give the keys to the Rose Cottage to Mr. Hines?"

"That old house—what kind of crappy door is that? It even needs a custom lock."

The main gate of our house was made of special iron. The lock itself features an intricate pattern impossible to replicate—finding a locksmith to open it was out of the question.

I shook my head, unusually calm as I said, "My father would never give the Rose Cottage to anyone else."

She snorted coldly, "Miguel spent over a million to settle things with your father and now you're back, expecting to reclaim the house?!"

Martha's voice echoed throughout the police station, instantly drawing a crowd of onlookers.

"Look, everyone! Here's the contract in black and white. Her father couldn't afford the compensation, so he transferred the Rose Cottage to us. And now she refuses to acknowledge it!"

Countless stares pinned me to the spot. 

Someone advised me, "Your father signed the papers. It's not right for you to renege on the agreement now."

"You should have some conscience. They've already compensated you."

Even the police officer urged me, "Ms. Howard, the contract is crystal clear. You should hand over the keys to the new owner as soon as possible."

I watched as the faces surrounding me gradually twisted into looks of contempt.

Martha eyed me smugly, then lunged at me the next second. 

"Let me see—do you have the keys on you now?!"

She clamped her hands tightly around my arm, searching my entire body. I couldn't break free. I had no choice but to shove her away with all my strength.

Martha staggered before regaining her balance. "Bitch, you dare to push me?!"

Before I could say anything, a familiar low voice snapped.

It was Miguel. After years apart, our reunion happened at the police station.

Martha instantly changed into a delicate, vulnerable demeanor, "Miguel, she refuses to hand over the keys."

His face darkened as he addressed me coldly, "Your house is now mine. Hand over the keys, or I'll have to break in!"

Watching my former matchmaking partner embrace Martha, I suddenly understood. 

My voice turned icy, "It wasn't you who broke up with me—you were the one who cheated on me. I don't want you."

"I'll look into the Rose Cottage, but I don't have the keys."

I shoved Miguel hard. His face turned ashen, clearly embarrassed.

I composed myself and walked out of the police station without looking back.

After getting home, I called my dad several times but couldn't reach him. 

But then I stumbled upon a post, [Oak Ridge Has Hot Goods—Hurry Over]

Oak Ridge—wasn't that precisely where my house stood?