When the Hundred Points Run Out

When the Hundred Points Run Out

Plot Summary

Leah Sterling, a talented architect, keeps a secret scorebook of the hurts inflicted by her husband, Tristan Cole, due to his obsession with his first love, Vanessa Sullivan. Each betrayal deducts points from an initial 100. When the points run out after a final, devastating tragedy, Leah's love dies, and she chooses to leave the marriage for good.

Search Tags

  • Character-Oriented: Leah Sterling, Tristan Cole, Leah Sterling and Tristan Cole, Vanessa Sullivan
  • Plot-Oriented: what happens to Leah Sterling in the award ceremony, what happens to Leah Sterling at the construction site, when does Leah Sterling leave Tristan Cole

Character Relationships

Leah Sterling & Tristan Cole: A married couple whose relationship is defined by emotional abuse and neglect. Leah is the devoted wife, a successful architect, while Tristan is the cold, manipulative CEO who consistently prioritizes his first love, Vanessa, over Leah, systematically breaking her spirit.

Tristan Cole & Vanessa Sullivan: The central destructive force in the story. Tristan is obsessively devoted to Vanessa, his first love, using his wife Leah as a pawn and sacrificing his marriage to cater to Vanessa's needs, real or imagined.

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Tristan Cole's first love, Vanessa Sullivan, returned to the country.

I used a sketchbook to record every single instance he hurt me because of her. A hundred points total, and I'd leave when they ran out.

He abandoned me on the award ceremony red carpet to pick up Vanessa. Deduct 10 points.

He fed me birth control pills disguised as vitamins, just because his first love couldn't have children. Deduct 20 points.

He made excuses about working overtime, but had intense sex with Vanessa in his office. Deduct 20 points.

...

Until that day, when I was trapped under the collapsed construction site, pregnant and bleeding heavily, and he said on the phone:

"Even if you die out there, I wouldn't spare you a second glance."

The child was gone. All hundred points were deducted.

My heart died too.

The day I signed the divorce papers, I called my father. "I agree to the arranged marriage you set up."

Leah Sterling POV

Camera flashes flooded the red carpet.

I wore a custom-made starlit gown, my arm linked with Tristan's.

As the youngest nominee for the country's highest architecture and design award, tonight should have been the most brilliant moment of my life.

Tristan wore a perfectly tailored black custom suit, devastatingly handsome.

We were the perfect couple in the media's eyes. Three years married. The union of the Cole Group CEO and a genius architect made countless people envious.

Just as the host smiled and announced, "Next, please welcome Mr. Tristan Cole and Miss Leah Sterling," Tristan's phone in his suit pocket began vibrating insistently.

His initially indifferent expression shattered the instant he saw the name on the screen.

My fingers, linked through his arm, stiffened slightly. I knew this expression too well. Only when it concerned that woman would this eternal iceberg crack with anxious fissures.

"Tristan," I spoke softly, with a trace of pleading, "we're about to go on stage."

Tristan yanked his arm away in one sharp motion, the force making me stumble.

He gripped his phone tightly, speaking rapidly in a cold, unquestionable tone.

"Vanessa is back in the country. She's having a panic attack at the airport. I have to go now."

The name, Vanessa Sullivan, was like a blade dipped in ice, stabbing into my heart.

"But tonight is very important to me." I bit my lower lip hard, my voice trembling in the night wind. "You promised you'd walk this entire path with me."

"Leah, this is just some meaningless award ceremony!" Tristan's gaze was so cold, like he was looking at an unreasonable stranger.

"Vanessa could be in life-threatening danger right now. Can you put away that petty vanity of yours?"

He turned coldly without another word and strode toward the Maybach parked in the distance.

The wind lifted the hem of his coat. He didn't even glance back at me once.

The surrounding media instantly swarmed forward, countless cameras aimed at me standing alone at the end of the red carpet.

"Why did Mr. Cole suddenly leave?"

"Is there something more important than your award?"

"Rumor has it Mr. Cole has never forgotten a certain woman. Is that true?"

Those malicious speculations intertwined with the camera flashes like an impenetrable net, trapping me completely. I don't know how I walked that red carpet, or how I stood on stage holding that heavy trophy.

All I knew was that when I stood on the award platform, looking at the empty seat below that should have belonged to Tristan, my heart turned completely cold.

Late night, the villa.

This thousand-square-foot mansion felt as empty as a luxurious mausoleum. I removed my painful high heels, walking barefoot across the cold marble floor, step by step up to the second floor.

I pushed open the study door and retrieved a black sketchbook from the bottom of the safe.

Opening to the last page, it wasn't an architectural drawing but a countdown scoreboard drawn in red pen.

One hundred points total.

I picked up the pen, my fingers trembling slightly, and wrote a line on the paper:

"At the most important award ceremony of my life, he abandoned me alone on the red carpet to face public ridicule online, all to pick up Vanessa Sullivan. Deduct 10 points."

After writing, I crossed out the number "100" at the bottom and changed it to "90."

I bought this sketchbook on the first day of our marriage.

Back then, I naively believed that as long as I was obedient enough, loved him enough, one day I could win Tristan's heart.

But later, I accidentally overheard a conversation between Tristan and his friends.

I learned he only married me because Vanessa had left the country in anger to marry someone else. His grandfather had threatened him with his own life. So he randomly picked me, a woman with a docile personality, to be his placeholder.

He gave all his deep feelings to Vanessa Sullivan. All he left me was endless coldness and neglect.

I touched the glaring "90" on the paper and pulled my lips into a bitter smile.

I had set myself a deadline. When all hundred points were deducted, I would finally let go. I would give his wife's place back to the woman he truly wanted to marry.

Leah Sterling POV

The next morning, the sound of fingerprint unlocking came from the villa's front door.

I sat in the dining room watching Tristan Cole walk in, bringing the morning chill and the distinctive smell of hospital disinfectant. His eyes had faint shadows beneath them. Clearly he'd been up all night.

He didn't even glance at me, walking straight to the dining table and slapping a thick stack of documents in front of me with a sharp sound.

"Sign it." Tristan's voice held no warmth whatsoever.

I lowered my eyes, my gaze falling on the document cover. "Moonlight Bay Property Transfer Agreement."

Transferee: Vanessa Sullivan.

My breathing hitched sharply, my stomach cramping with acute pain. I looked up at Tristan in disbelief. "You're giving Moonlight Bay to Vanessa Sullivan?"

Moonlight Bay was the most beautiful oceanfront property in New York. On our wedding day, Tristan had given me this land as a wedding gift. For three years, I'd worked countless nights, drawn hundreds of blueprints, wanting to build a home that belonged to us there.

"Vanessa's marriage abroad was very unhappy. She has severe depression." Tristan pulled out a chair and sat down, his tone matter-of-fact.

"The doctor said she needs a quiet place with an ocean view to recuperate. You have so many properties under your name. You don't lack this one piece of land."

"I won't sign." I clenched my fists, nails digging deep into my palms. "That was the wedding gift you gave me! It's the home I've designed stroke by stroke for three years!"

Hearing this, Tristan not only showed no guilt but actually let out an extremely cold laugh.

"Home? Leah Sterling, are you getting too deep into this role?" He leaned forward with overwhelming pressure, looking at me. "Do you really think a marriage certificate makes you the master here? Anything I've given you, I can take back anytime."

My eyes reddened, but I bit my teeth hard to keep the tears from falling.

Seeing my resistance, Tristan warned me. "That architectural studio your teacher left behind. Its funding chain broke recently, didn't it? It's only surviving on the Cole Group's capital injection. If you don't sign today, tomorrow Cole Group will withdraw funding."

My whole body shook. I looked at this cold-blooded man before me in disbelief.

To force me to give Vanessa Sullivan this land, he was actually using my most respected teacher's life work to threaten me!

"Tristan Cole, you're truly despicable." My voice trembled, and tears finally fell.

"Think whatever you want." Tristan handed me the pen, coldly issuing his second command. "Also, Vanessa really likes your design style. You'll personally design this oceanfront villa. It must be completely according to her preferences. Understand?"

Not only would he take my dream property, but he wanted me, his wife, to personally design a house for his mistress.

He knew how to make me suffer.

My hand holding the pen shook so badly I could barely grip it. Under Tristan's cold gaze, I closed my eyes and signed my name on the signature line. Every stroke felt like cutting my own heart.

Tristan pulled the documents away with satisfaction, turned and left without even one extra word.

Listening to the sports car's engine roar fade into the distance, I finally couldn't hold on. I covered my stomach and rushed to the bathroom to vomit violently.

My stomach ulcer flared up again from the extreme emotional turmoil. I vomited acidic water mixed with blood.

I leaned weakly against the cold tiles, face deathly pale, and pulled out the electronic memo on my phone to sync last night's scoreboard.

"Used my teacher to threaten me, gave my property to Vanessa Sullivan, and made me personally design a house for her. Deduct 10 points."

Seventy points left.

I swallowed the bloody taste in my throat, looking at my haggard reflection in the mirror, my eyes gradually becoming lifeless.

Leah Sterling POV

The early autumn sea breeze already carried bone-chilling cold.

I brought surveying equipment and came alone to the cliff edge at Moonlight Bay. Although I'd signed the transfer agreement, my professional integrity as an architect meant I still had to conduct on-site surveys.

Waves crashed heavily against the sharp rocks below, churning up white foam.

"Miss Sterling, working on such a cold day. It must be hard on you."

A soft, delicate voice came from behind me. I turned to see Vanessa Sullivan wearing a pure white cashmere coat, approaching with Tristan's assistant.

Vanessa had a beautiful face. She looked so fragile.

"I heard this land was originally a wedding gift Tristan gave you?" Vanessa walked to the cliff edge, looking down at the magnificent sea from her superior position, covering her mouth with a light laugh.

"I desperately tried to talk Tristan out of giving me this land, but he just wouldn't listen. He insisted only this place was worthy of me. Miss Sterling, please don't be angry with me."

I adjusted my equipment expressionlessly, not sparing her even a glance. "Miss Sullivan, if you came to gloat, don't bother. I have no interest in recycling garbage."

Just then, the harsh sound of car tires scraping pavement came from the distance. Tristan's Maybach stopped by the roadside. The man pushed open the door and got out, walking this way.

Vanessa caught sight of Tristan from the corner of her eye and suddenly gave me a strange smile.

The next second, she suddenly stepped backward, her whole body falling toward the cliff edge.

"Miss Sterling, why did you push me!" Vanessa let out a shrill scream, tumbling down onto a relatively flat sandy area near the cliff edge. Though she didn't fall off, it looked extremely dangerous.

"Vanessa!"

Tristan rushed over like a gust of wind.

He didn't even assess the situation clearly before raising his hand and shoving hard at my shoulder.

"Are you insane! How dare you hurt her!"

His force was tremendous. Caught off guard, I lost my balance and fell straight toward a pile of rocks nearby.

My knees and palms crashed heavily onto the sharp reef rocks. The jagged stones instantly tore through my skin. Blood gushed out, quickly staining my pants. The piercing pain made my vision go black.

But Tristan didn't even glance at me. He knelt on one knee, carefully gathering Vanessa into his arms, his voice so tender it could drip water. "Vanessa, it's okay now, don't be scared. I'm here."

Vanessa curled up in his embrace, trembling and crying. "Tristan, don't blame Miss Sterling. She must be angry because you gave the land to me, so she pushed me..."

"She's asking for death!" Tristan whipped his head around, his deep eyes churning with fury.

I trembled all over in pain, supporting myself on my blood-covered palms, struggling to raise my head. "Tristan Cole, I didn't push her. My leg is bleeding. I can't stand up..."

"Drop that pitiful act!" Tristan cut me off mercilessly, his eyes as cold as if looking at garbage. "If Vanessa loses even one hair, I absolutely won't let you off! You stay here and reflect. When you're ready to admit your mistake, then you can crawl back!"

With that, he scooped up Vanessa and walked toward the car without looking back.

The car door slammed shut. The engine roared. He left with his mistress.

The cold seawater gradually rose with the tide, submerging my bleeding knee. The salt water covering my wound hurt so much I nearly passed out.

I tilted my head back, looking at the overcast sky, letting tears mix with the icy seawater.

I silently recorded in my mind:

"He falsely accused me, pushed me for Vanessa Sullivan's sake, and left me injured on the tidal reef. Deduct 10 points."

Seventy points left.

Leah Sterling POV

I don't know how I dragged my bleeding leg up to the road, or how I got a cab to the hospital.

In the emergency room, the doctor cleaned the gravel embedded in my wounds while looking at my blood test results, frowning deeply.

"Miss Sterling, you have severe soft tissue damage to your knee and lacerations on your palms. But the most critical issue right now is that you're pregnant."

My nerves, numb from pain, instantly tensed at the word "pregnant."

"What did you say?" I stared in disbelief, eyes wide.

"You're six weeks pregnant." The doctor sighed, his tone serious.

"But your physical condition is terrible. Severe malnutrition, combined with long-term mental stress, and now physical trauma. Your progesterone is extremely low. You're showing serious signs of threatened miscarriage. You must rest in bed immediately for fetal protection, or you absolutely cannot keep this child."

I touched my still-flat lower abdomen in a daze.

Here, a small life was actually growing?

For three years, I'd dreamed of giving Tristan Cole a child. I thought that if we had a child, the layer of ice between us would melt, and he would slowly fall in love with me and return to our family.

This unexpected news was like a crack of light torn through my pitch-black, desperate world.

Despite the doctor's advice, after simply bandaging my wounds, I took the ultrasound report and limped to hail a cab straight to Cole Group headquarters. I couldn't wait to tell Tristan this news. I even fantasized about whether he might show even a trace of a smile when he heard it.

The executive floor where the CEO's office was located was eerily quiet. The secretary wasn't at her desk.

I walked to Tristan's office door and was about to knock when I realized the door wasn't closed. Inside, I could hear several men talking. Tristan's friends.

"Tristan, now that Vanessa Sullivan is back, what are you going to do? You and Leah Sterling have been married three years. What if she gets pregnant someday and has a Cole family child? You can't just divorce her then, can you?"

Hearing this, my raised hand froze in mid-air, my heart leaping to my throat.

The office fell silent for a few seconds, then came Tristan's voice, cold to the extreme.

"She can't get pregnant."

That voice held no warmth whatsoever, as if discussing some lifeless object.

His friend sounded somewhat surprised. "How are you so sure? Did you..."

"I replaced her daily multivitamin with long-acting birth control pills." I saw Tristan light a cigarette, his tone flat. "Vanessa was in a car accident abroad years ago. Her uterus was damaged. She can never be a mother. I would never let Leah Sterling bear my child and stimulate Vanessa's fragile nerves."

Boom.

My mind went completely blank, as if a heavy hammer had struck my head.

Birth control pills.

The "imported vitamins" he personally poured water for and insisted I take every day were actually birth control pills!

To protect Vanessa Sullivan's fragile nerves, he had unhesitatingly stripped me of my right as a woman to become a mother. He personally severed all possibilities between us.

No wonder I couldn't conceive despite three years of trying to improve my health. No wonder every time I mentioned children, he looked at me with that mocking expression.

Turns out in his eyes, I was just a toy not even worthy of reproductive rights!

The ultrasound report in my hand silently slipped away, falling onto the thick carpet without making a sound.

I covered my mouth, desperately suppressing the sob about to break from my throat. I didn't push the door open to confront him, because I knew that before that man's absolute cruelty, my breakdown would only be a joke.

I dragged my broken body away from Cole Group, step by step.

Leah Sterling POV

Back at the villa, I locked myself in the dark bedroom.

I didn't turn on the lights, just sat on the floor and took out that black sketchbook.

The pen tip scratched across the paper with such force it nearly tore through the page:

"To avoid upsetting Vanessa Sullivan, he gave me long-term birth control pills, stripping me of my right to be a mother. Deduct 20 points."

Twenty points deducted at once. Fifty points left.

At eleven that night, a heavy door slam echoed from downstairs.

Tristan Cole, reeking of alcohol, kicked open the bedroom door. He strode toward me, grabbed my wrist, and roughly yanked me up from the floor.

"Leah Sterling, how dare you do that! You pushed Vanessa at the beach this afternoon and had the nerve to run away?" Tristan's eyes were like poisoned knives. "Vanessa was frightened and caught in the sea breeze. Now she has a fever of 102 degrees, crying in her dreams, begging you not to push her!"

My wrist felt like the bones were being crushed. I looked at this hateful man before me, feeling only endless desolation.

"I didn't push her. She fell down herself."

"You still dare to argue!" Tristan laughed in extreme anger. "Vanessa wouldn't even step on an ant. Would she risk her own life to frame you? Leah Sterling, you're too malicious."

He violently released my hand and pointed at the door. "Now, immediately go to Vanessa's apartment and kneel by her bed to apologize. Don't come back until her fever breaks and she forgives you!"

I stepped back twice, my spine against the cold wall. I looked at Tristan, my heart strangely calm. "What if I don't go?"

"Won't go?" Tristan sneered, then dragged me by my hair like dragging a lifeless object all the way down the stairs, throwing me directly into the villa's cold, damp basement.

With a "bang," the heavy iron door closed mercilessly and was locked.

"Stay here and reflect properly! Without my permission, no one is allowed to bring her food or water!" Tristan's voice came through the iron door like a judgment from hell.

There was no heating in the basement. On a late autumn night, the temperature approached freezing.

I was already injured, and having gone a whole day without eating, the cramping in my stomach and the dragging pain in my lower abdomen struck simultaneously.

I curled up on the cold cement floor in agony, drenched in cold sweat. I bit my lip hard until I tasted blood, both hands tightly protecting my lower abdomen.

"Baby... I'm sorry... you're all Mommy has left... you must be strong..." I murmured desperately in the deathly silent darkness.

The physical pain wasn't even one ten-thousandth of what was in my heart. I had loved him so much. Yet he was torturing me nearly to death while I was pregnant with his child. All for another woman's few tears.

The next morning, the iron door was finally opened.

I was already in so much pain I'd nearly lost consciousness, my lips cracked and dry.

A servant helped me back to my room. I forced myself to hold onto my last thread of consciousness and wrote in the sketchbook:

"Forced me to kneel to Vanessa Sullivan and locked sick me in the basement overnight. Deduct 10 points."

Forty points left. Almost done. Almost over.

Leah Sterling POV

I lay in bed for three full days. Only by secretly buying medication did I barely stabilize the condition of the fetus in my womb.

On the fourth day, I received a call from Tristan's secretary telling me to come to the CEO's office at Cole Group immediately.

When I pushed open the office door, I saw Vanessa Sullivan sitting on Tristan's lap, their posture intimate. Seeing me enter, not only did Vanessa not get off his lap, but she provocatively tightened her arms around Tristan's neck.

Tristan patted Vanessa's waist, signaling her to get up, then tossed a document onto the wide office desk.

"Sign it." This seemed to have become the sentence he said to me most often.

I walked forward, my eyes scanning the document header. "New York Public Library Project Lead Designer Change Consent Form."

My pupils constricted sharply.

The Public Library project was the last national-level key project my teacher had accepted before his death. On his deathbed, my teacher entrusted this project to me. It was the most important milestone in my architectural career and the achievement I'd worked so hard for.

And now, the document clearly stated changing the lead designer's name to "Vanessa Sullivan."

"What do you mean?" My voice couldn't help trembling. "Vanessa Sullivan didn't even graduate from college. Does she know what a load-bearing wall is? What spatial mechanics is? You want to put the Public Library in her hands?!"

"She doesn't need to know." Tristan's tone was indifferent, as if discussing some insignificant toy. "Vanessa wants to establish herself in New York's socialite circle. She needs a presentable identity and title. The genius architect title suits her well."

"So you want me to give up my achievement?" I found it absurdly ridiculous. "I draw the plans, I supervise the construction, and her name goes on it in the end?"

"This isn't difficult for you." Tristan's eyes were cruel. "You're already my wife. These things are meaningless to you. Give this title to Vanessa as compensation for pushing her off the cliff the other day."

"I absolutely won't agree!" I grabbed the document and tore it in half. "This is my teacher's work. I absolutely won't allow anyone to defile it!"

Tristan's expression instantly darkened.

"Leah Sterling, I'm not discussing this with you." He stood up, advancing step by step. "If you don't sign, Cole Group will not only immediately withdraw funding from your teacher's studio, I'll also use all media outlets to expose fake news about your teacher taking bribes before his death. Your teacher is already dead anyway. Who do you think the public will believe?"

I froze in place, the blood in my body seeming to flow backward in an instant.

He knew too well where my weaknesses were. He was using the reputation of the person I most respected to pave the way for his mistress.

Looking at Tristan's cold, merciless face, I suddenly laughed until tears streamed down my face.

I bent down, picked up the torn document from the floor with trembling hands, pieced it together, and signed my name on the last page.

"Are you satisfied now?" I slammed the pen heavily on the desk and turned to leave.

Back home, I opened the sketchbook.

"For Vanessa Sullivan's vanity, you stole my teacher's work and took my achievement. Deduct 15 points."

Twenty-five points left.

Tristan Cole, there's really nothing left between us.

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