Frame Me，Enjoy Prison, Ex-Fiancé!

In just one month, my brand-new car had been involved in nineteen accidents. My fiancé was the one driving it every single time, but whenever something went wrong, I was the one left to clean up the mess. Over the course of thirty days, I became a regular at the local precinct and the courthouse. Even the rookie officer at the front desk started looking at me with pity. This time, the police called just as I was about to board a flight to close a massive contract. "Hello, ma'am. This is the police department. A vehicle registered under your name was just involved in a severe hit-and-run. A victim is critically injured, and the driver abandoned the car and fled the scene." If I missed this signing, my promotion and years of hard work would go right down the drain. Just as I opened my mouth to respond, a text from my fiancé, Vincent, popped up on my phone. "Where are you? Mia took your car and hit someone. It’s registered under your name, so get over here and handle it." I took a breath and spoke calmly to the officer on the line. "I don't have the car. I can give you the driver's identity, the bars he frequents, and where he's hanging out tonight. Please contact the actual person behind the wheel instead of dumping the blame on the owner by default." I sent Vincent one final text before blocking his number. "Stop expecting me to ruin my future just to wipe your little girlfriend's ass." What Vincent didn't know was that this time, they had hit the sister of a notorious mob boss. I didn't return until late at night, three days after the deal was signed. As I rolled my suitcase up to my front door, I noticed a sliver of light spilling out from underneath. Voices echoed from inside. The second my hand touched the doorknob, the door was pulled open from the inside. Vincent stood there, completely expressionless. "You blocked me?" The living room lights were blazing. Mia was curled up on my couch, wearing my silk nightgown. Vincent's mother, Helen, sat beside her. A pile of expensive fruit I had just bought was half-eaten, the peels tossed carelessly onto my hardwood floor. "This is my place, Vincent. You're trespassing. Get the hell out," I said coldly, dragging my suitcase inside. Vincent grabbed my wrist, squeezing hard enough to make me wince. "We're just borrowing your place for a bit. Drop the attitude. There's something you need to do tonight." I looked up at him, letting out a sharp scoff. "Do what? You break into my apartment and expect my cooperation?" He shoved me toward the coffee table and pointed at a stack of papers. "Didn't I text you before you blocked me? Stop playing dumb. Besides, what's yours is mine. Do you really have to be this petty?" Before I could find my footing, Helen chimed in. "Look who finally decided to show up. If you have any conscience at all, do what needs to be done. Don't make things hard for Vincent." Mia immediately followed, her voice soft and trembling with tears. "Summer... I swear I didn't mean to... I just panicked. My legs are still shaking. Please, I'm begging you, help me." She leaned toward me, but Vincent placed a firm hand on her shoulder. "Do you see this? She's terrified, and you're still standing there with a stone-cold face?" Ignoring them, I looked down at the stack of papers. Vincent shoved them directly in front of me. "Hurry up. Stop wasting time." I flipped open the first page. The very first line sent a chill straight down my spine. They had already forged my signature on the accident report, explicitly stating that I took full responsibility. When my eyes caught a particular name, it all clicked. No wonder they were panicking like this. They had hit the only sister of a ruthless cartel boss. I shut the folder. "Who forged this? I had no idea, and I didn't sign it. Forging legal documents is a crime." Vincent’s eyes flickered for a fraction of a second before turning utterly impatient. "Does it really matter right now? Just press your thumbprint so we can settle this." I let out a bitter laugh. "Vincent, I'm not pressing anything. Whoever drove that car takes the heat. The accident report should state the truth: a pathetic man couldn't keep his hands to himself, handed my keys to his side chick, and caused a disaster." Helen’s voice spiked into a screech. She snatched my custom ceramic mug from the table and hurled it straight at my face. "Summer, you little bitch, who do you think you're talking to? The car is in your name! If you don't take the fall, who will? You think a girl like you still gets to marry into my family?" The mug slammed hard against my cheek, sending a burst of stinging pain through my face before shattering on the floor. My heart hardened. I bent down, pretending to pick up the broken shards, but Vincent stepped firmly on the back of my hand. "You dare try to fight back? Press your thumbprint right now. After that, I'll take you to the station, you pay a fine, and this whole thing is over." "Over?" I gasped through the pain, glaring up at him. "Over what? I bought that car a month ago, and it's already had nineteen accidents! I had to clean up every single one. You think you can just say it's over and make it disappear?" Vincent’s expression darkened. His fingers clamped around my wrist like a vice, tightening until bone ground against bone. "Now isn't the time to bring up old shit." I tried to yank my arm away, but he used his weight to drag me toward the table. Realizing I couldn't break free, I slipped my other hand into my coat pocket, unlocked my phone by touch, and started a voice recording. A faint chime sounded, freezing the room for a split second. The next moment, Vincent lunged, wrenching the phone right out of my grip. He tossed it to Helen, who shoved it straight into her pocket without a second glance. "Trying to record us? You think you're some big shot just because you stepped through the door? Stop embarrassing yourself." Vincent blocked my path. Just as I moved to step around him, Helen's phone rang. She answered and immediately put it on speaker. "Yeah, she's back. Giving us an attitude. Talk some sense into your daughter." My mother's voice came through loud and clear. "Summer, just listen to them. A woman is supposed to make sacrifices for her man. Stop making a scene. You've already handled it so many times, what's one more?" A lump formed in my throat, choking me. Then my father's voice cut in. "Don't make this ugly. Be obedient." My heart went completely cold. To my parents, that was all I was worth. Vincent smiled, looking thoroughly pleased with himself. His grip tightened, forcing my hand down. I struggled, my fingernail leaving a jagged scratch across the paper. Helen marched over, planting her heavy hands onto my shoulders and pinning me in place. The pressure made it hard to breathe. "Even your parents said so! What else do you want? Trying to be a rebellious, ungrateful daughter?" Vincent grabbed an ink pad, pried my index finger open, and shoved my pad into the red ink. Gritting my teeth, I fought with everything I had. "Vincent! Are you seriously doing this?" Without looking at me, he slammed my thumb hard against the document. "Smack." The moment the red print stained the paper, all the fight seemed to drain out of my body. Vincent let go, wiping his hands in disgust as if he had just touched trash. Beside us, Mia's soft sniffling stopped. She let out a breath of relief. "Thank you, Summer..." I instinctively reached for the document, but Helen swept it out of my reach, remarking coldly, "See? Wouldn't it have been easier to just cooperate from the start?" "Vincent, you forced a signature on a legal document. That's a felony," I said, my gaze secretly darting toward a hidden corner of the room. "Are you really not worried about the consequences?"Vincent gave a cold sneer and locked the front door from the inside. Helen rushed forward and snatched my purse. She pulled out my wallet and car keys, stuffing them into her coat pocket. I took a step toward her. "Give those back. That's robbery." She sneered. "Give them back so you can run? Let me tell you right now, you're not taking a single step out of this apartment tonight." I lunged to grab my bag, but Vincent stepped in between us, shoving me back hard. My knees gave out, and the small of my back slammed violently against the sharp edge of the coffee table. A sharp gasp tore from my throat. Vincent didn't show a shred of remorse; he merely frowned down at me. "It's done. Stop throwing a tantrum." On the couch, Mia put on her usual delicate act, looking at me with feigned concern. "Summer, stop acting like the victim. It's not like this is your first time. Why make such a big deal out of it? Don't make things harder for Vincent. Just accept it and move on." She leaned forward slightly, lowering her voice so only I could hear. "Honestly, if you weren't taking the fall, I'd be the one in danger right now. So thanks a million, big sister." Her words stabbed like needles. Vincent stood right beside her, not uttering a single word to stop her. Instead, he turned back to me with an irritated sigh. "Summer, just stay home tonight and don't escalate this. If you're upset, we can talk about it privately after the dust settles." His words sounded reasonable, but he hadn't given me a choice. My phone was gone, my ID was confiscated, and the door was locked. A dull, throbbing ache pulsed in my lower back, leaving me trapped in my own home. Fury burned in my chest, but I bit down hard, forcing the anger back down. "I need to wash my face." Vincent and Helen exchanged a quick glance. Seeing that I had stopped fighting back, they agreed. Still, Vincent followed me and stood guard right outside the bathroom door. I slipped inside and clicked the lock shut. Thank god. In the hidden inner lining of my coat, my old backup phone was still there. I dialed the brightness down to minimum and kept the sound muted. Opening the cloud storage connected to the hidden camera in my living room, I pulled up the footage of them breaking in, taking my documents, and forcing my thumbprint onto the paper. I packaged the evidence into a file and sent it straight to my most trusted best friend. Once the upload finished, I tucked the phone back into the hidden pocket. I splashed freezing water onto my face, staring at my pale reflection and nursing the dull pain in my back. Smoothing out my expression, I unlocked the door and stepped back into the living room. Helen immediately glared at me. Mia was lounging comfortably on the sofa, sipping water from my mug as if she owned the place. Vincent was murmuring quietly with his mother, discussing their next move. Keeping up my defeated demeanor, I tested the waters. "The thumbprint is already on the paper. Arguing won't change that. But didn't the police say the victim is still in the hospital? We shouldn't rush." "We can't just hand this paper over right away. If the victim takes a turn for the worse, nobody can handle the fallout." Hearing me talk like that, Vincent assumed I had completely given in, and his guard dropped significantly. "I knew you'd come around," he said. "We won't submit it yet. We'll wait for news from the hospital and see how the victim is doing before deciding what to do. If she pulls through, everything is easy. If it gets critical, we use this to wrap up the case and protect Mia." I didn't answer. My fingernails dug deep into my palms as my mind raced, calculating a way out. That mob boss was only quiet because he was busy dealing with his sister's condition. The second he turned his attention to this, none of them would survive the fallout. Just then, Vincent's eyes locked onto the inner flap of my coat, his gaze suddenly darkening. My prolonged stay in the bathroom had made him suspicious. "What took you so long in there?" Before the words fully left his mouth, he took a long stride forward, reaching straight for my pockets to search me. A surge of panic hit me, and I instinctively twisted away.My evasion only pissed him off further. He seized my wrist and slammed me against the wall. He shoved his hands into my pockets and ran them along the lining, but pulled out nothing more than two crumpled store receipts. He glared at me with a harsh scoff. "Behave yourself." I let out a silent breath. Thank god I had moved the phone deeper into the hem before walking out. I curled into the corner of the sofa, spending the entire night wide awake. Held prisoner in my own freezing living room, Vincent and Helen took turns sleeping, while I didn't dare close my eyes for a single second. At dawn, Vincent walked over to me. "Let's go. To the hospital." I thought we were going to check on the victim, clinging to a faint shred of hope that they had a sliver of humanity left. Only after getting into the car did I realize they didn't give a damn about the victim's life. In the front seats, Vincent and Helen spoke in hushed voices, their conversation entirely revolving around payouts and out-of-court settlements. "We need to feel out the family first. See how much cash it'll take to bury this." "It's best if we keep this out of the legal system. Once charges are filed, Mia is completely ruined." Vincent had stashed Mia somewhere else, terrified that the victim's family might recognize her. The car pulled up outside the hospital. As soon as we reached the ICU waiting area, the muffled sobs of the family echoed through the hall. Several relatives were pacing the corridor. Helen suddenly reached out, grabbed my arm, and shoved me hard into the center of the hall. Just like that, I was thrust directly into the line of fire. Helen raised her voice. "She's the one who was driving! She's the one responsible!" In an instant, half a dozen furious glares locked onto me. The victim's relatives swarmed forward with bloodshot eyes. A middle-aged man stepped up and slapped me hard across the face, his voice shaking with rage. "How the hell do you drive?! You put a girl in critical condition—do you even have a conscience?!" A woman beside him broke down, screaming, "You hit her and ran, and now you stand there playing innocent?! You monster!" Standing behind them was a tall, strikingly imposing man who hadn't said a single word. His eyes were fixed dead on my face, cold and lethal, like a viper ready to strike. My cheek stung from the slap. Humiliation and anger swelled inside me, threatening to burst into an outright denial. But out of the corner of my eye, I saw Vincent standing quietly in the background. He had zero intention of stepping forward to clear my name. Swallowing the bile in my throat, I bowed my head slightly toward the family, keeping my voice deliberately meek. "The patient is in critical condition right now. I came here in good faith to resolve this, and I won't run from my responsibility." Nearby, Helen was still trying to push for an out-of-court settlement, throwing out promises of a massive payout just to sweep the whole thing under the rug. The family was uncompromising. They flatly rejected any settlement, demanding justice. Taking advantage of the deadlock, I seized the moment to find an excuse to slip away. "I'll go down to the billing counter to grab the itemized bills and cover the initial medical expenses. I want to do what I can to make this right." Helen watched me like a hawk, but surrounded by so many people, she didn't dare physically restrain me. She could only hiss a warning. "Hurry back. Don't try anything funny!" Swallowing the humiliation, I turned and walked away. I bypassed the billing counter and hurried straight toward a quiet nurse's station down the hall. While Vincent and his mother were busy dealing with the furious family, I lowered my voice and carefully asked the on-duty nurse about the details of last night's accident. After a few sincere pleas, the nurse finally relented, dropping a crucial detail. "The eyewitnesses last night said the driver was a young girl. Before the crash, she had been hanging around the clubbing district nearby." That single sentence loosened the suffocating knot in my chest. I clenched my fists, etching every word into my memory. After making sure the coast was clear, I hurried back to the corridor. But the moment I stepped into view, a cold dread washed over me. Helen was leaning against the wall, her phone screen brightly illuminated. Displayed on the screen was a crystal-clear photo of the document they had forced me to sign. Vincent stood right beside her, fully supporting the move. Helen looked up, her gaze icy and completely devoid of warmth as she declared: "If they won't settle, there's no point in wasting time. First thing tomorrow morning, we're taking this straight to the traffic division to make it official." Once that document was submitted, the blame would be permanently pinned on me. If the authorities bought it, I would be completely ruined.I had barely returned from the nurse's station when I heard that the victim's family had called the cops. Within minutes, officers arrived. It wasn't just traffic cops—two detectives arrived on the scene as well. The presence of criminal investigators instantly silenced the noisy corridor. The family immediately surged forward, demanding answers. Everyone there was convinced I was the hit-and-run driver. Sensing an opportunity, Helen wasted no time dumping everything on me. She pulled out a copy of the liability document and marched right up to me. Right in front of the officers and the entire family, she slammed the papers against my chest. The sharp slap of paper cut through the tense room. "The officers are right here! Read it again!" she barked. "Sign the remaining clauses and admit your fault publicly so this case can be closed!" She was trying to force me into a second confession right in front of the police, sealing off any possible escape route. My blood ran cold, followed by a surge of white-hot rage. Before I could speak, Vincent leaned in close, his voice a venomous whisper in my ear. "Summer, don't you dare say a word. If you try to recant, I'll call your parents right now and have them pin you down to sign it themselves." At that exact moment, the very last trace of affection I had ever felt for him shattered into dust. Months of accumulated humiliation erupted inside me. Amid the chaos, my mind kicked into overdrive, assembling the pieces of my defense. The night Mia borrowed the car, the surveillance footage from the commercial strip, the parking garage logs, and the dashcam would all clearly show who was behind the wheel. All that evidence was held by third parties, safe and sound, completely capable of clearing my name. On top of that, I was at the airport that night. The airport security cameras would prove my alibi beyond a shadow of a doubt. Facing Helen's aggressive shove, Vincent's disgusting threats, and the heavy glares of the crowd, I looked up, my eyes completely cold. Looking straight at the officers, I spoke clearly, one word at a time. "I'm not signing anything." "Determining liability is a serious legal matter. I have the right to review every single clause, verify the facts, and only then make a decision." That shut down their attempt to force my hand on the spot. With police officers present, no one could legally compel me to sign. Vincent and his mother turned pale with rage, but they couldn't find a single flaw in my statement. Taking advantage of their momentary shock, I slipped my backup phone out of my pocket. My fingers flew across the screen, wasting no time texting my best friend to contact the parking garage staff and the airport security team. She replied almost instantly. "Don't worry. The full footage from that night and the license plate logs are all backed up. We can pull copies whenever you need them." Swallowing down the surge of relief, I finalized the details with her. Just then, the traffic officer spoke up, his voice firm and authoritative. "Tomorrow at nine in the morning, the registered vehicle owner must report to the station for an official statement. That will serve as the basis for our final determination." Hearing this, Helen lost her temper and raised her hand to slap me again. Vincent stepped forward, his eyes dark with menace, preparing to intimidate me once more. Suddenly, a hand caught Helen's wrist. It was the tall, dangerous-looking man from earlier. I seized the opening, grabbed Vincent's wrist, and pushed him back. Pulling out my backup phone, I hit play on the recording of Vincent and Helen from the night before. "Officers, I'd also like to report an incident of false imprisonment and illegal trespassing."