I was the only princess of Royal St. Ashford Academy — the girl with four fathers. After my mother died, her four childhood sweethearts found me still alive inside her belly. And so I ended up with four fathers. My first father, Ethan Sterling, was the head of a hundred-billion-dollar dynasty. He was also the sole trustee of Royal St. Ashford Academy, holding absolute authority over the institution. My second father, Marcus Sterling, was the commander of the world’s largest private military corporation — his army could annihilate a small country with ease. My third father, Julian Sterling, was a universally recognized medical genius — the next Nobel Prize candidate. My fourth father, Liam Sterling, was the most feared legend in the underground fighting circuit — before he even turned seventeen, he had defeated thirty-three elite enforcers from criminal syndicates around the globe. I grew up drowning in the love of four fathers. No matter where I went, I was the center of everyone’s envy. Until the year I turned eighteen, when the four fathers’ shared daughter, Bianca White, was found and brought back. From that day on, these four men became entirely different people. Bianca said I’d verbally abused her. My second father injected me with a hallucinogenic drug — I stripped naked on the school rooftop like a lunatic and danced, then fell and shattered both my legs, missing prom entirely. A video of my naked dance spread across the school’s network in minutes. When my first father saw it, he locked me — a girl with severe claustrophobia — in a pitch-black closet for three days and three nights. When I came out, I discovered that every honor I’d ever earned at school had been transferred to Bianca. She said I’d poisoned her. My third father, Julian, locked me inside his deadly fungal cultivation chamber. I became the perfect host for every pathogen inside — fungal hyphae burrowed through my pores and into my organs. Only when I was on the verge of death did they pull me out and blast me under cold water for an entire night, barely saving my life. But my right eye lost all its vision permanently. After Bianca cried yet again, claiming I’d tricked her into going to a bar where she was nearly attacked by dangerous men, my first father flew into a rage and threw me into an underground bar — where I became the lowest of the low: a stripper. For three years, I went from defiance to submission — because on my eighteenth birthday, my virginity was stolen by eighteen filthy strangers. From that day on, I was reduced to nothing more than the cheapest whore. Whenever my door opened, I instinctively spread my legs and lay back on the couch. That’s when I heard a voice say: “Iris, would you like to come back to your mother?” …… I jerked my head up. There was no one in the room. But the voice came again — I spotted a glowing screen on the floor. An unfamiliar yet somehow warm face appeared on the small display. She said her name was Helen, my mother’s closest friend. She said my mother, Lillian, hadn’t actually died that day. She’d been poisoned — a rare toxin that induced a death-like state — and then smuggled away by people who owed her their lives. And now she knew I was alive. She wanted to bring me home. The grief and pain I’d been suppressing broke free — I sobbed, crying out that I wanted to find my mother. But Helen’s tone was tense. She said the Sterling family’s reach was too vast. If they discovered Mother was still alive, they would track her down. The only safe way was to make everyone believe I was dead. “Only when you ‘die’ will they stop looking for you. Our people will extract you after your ‘death.’ Your mother is waiting on the other side.” “Iris, even a faked death will be extremely painful — are you willing to —” Helen hadn’t even finished her sentence before I was on my feet, grabbing a shard of glass from the broken mirror and pressing it to my throat without a moment’s hesitation. *Yes!* Mother was alive! All I had to do was “die,” and I could see her. Overwhelming joy drowned out every fear of death — this body had already endured too much. If “death” was the only way to reach Mother, I wouldn’t hesitate for a second. But just as I was about to drag the glass across my skin, a massive force knocked it from my hand. The pain made me let go. The shard fell to the floor, and a foot stepped on it. “Iris, trying to kill yourself?” That familiar voice made me look up. When I saw who it was, I called out instinctively. “Fourth Father.” The moment the word left my mouth, I regretted it. Sure enough, the man’s brow furrowed at the title. “Don’t call me that. I cut ties with you a long time ago.” The person standing before me was Liam Sterling. When I was little, I’d been kidnapped by a rival family. He alone stormed into their compound, took three knife wounds without flinching, and carried me out without a scratch on me. After he rescued me, I cried so hard looking at his wounds that I couldn’t breathe. But he just ruffled my hair and said those cuts didn’t hurt at all. What hurt, he said, was watching me cry. Of the four fathers, the fourth was the one who loved me most. But that love vanished four years ago, when my second father Marcus brought an injured Bianca back from a school field trip. I’d always known my four fathers shared a single obsession — a woman they all loved. I just didn’t know that woman wasn’t my mother. It was Bianca’s mother, Celine White. The truth was something I’d pieced together fragment by fragment: my mother, Lillian, grew up alongside the four Sterling brothers. Their father had been destroyed by a corporate conspiracy — framed, bankrupted, driven to an early grave. It was young Lillian who hid the four boys, placing each with a different guardian, a different mentor. They grew into their own. With Mother Lillian’s help, they completed their revenge — Ethan reclaimed the family empire and cleared the Sterling name. Lillian and Ethan were supposed to be together. Childhood sweethearts — two hearts long promised to each other. But on the eve of the wedding, Celine White appeared. The moment she walked in, all four fathers’ eyes shifted. After that, they called Lillian “jealous” and “unstable.” They said she kept trying to hurt Celine. They said she eventually killed herself out of spite. After Mother’s death, Celine disappeared too. It wasn’t until Bianca appeared that the fathers learned — or thought they learned — the truth: Celine had left because she felt guilty about Lillian’s death. Honestly? I never believed any of it. My gut told me Mother wasn’t the villain. Celine was. But the fathers didn’t trust my instincts. The brothers didn’t either. They even thought I was just like my mother — petty, jealous, always competing for attention. So every time Bianca and I clashed, all eight of them stood on her side. Before long, I went from the most pampered princess of Ashford Prep to the lowest creature in an underground bar. My fourth father picked up the glass shard from the floor, glanced at the cut on my neck. Then his hand flicked, and the shard flew straight at me. I stumbled back two steps on instinct. The glass grazed my throat, leaving another thin red line. My fourth father let out a cold laugh: “If you really want to die, why’d you dodge?” “Iris, you’re just like your mother — always hurting yourself to get attention.” “At least she was smarter about it. She always performed in front of us. You picked this dump. Pathetic.”
I was about to explain that I wasn’t acting. But then I remembered — every explanation I’d ever given, they had never once listened. So I lowered my head. “You’re absolutely right, Mr. Sterling. So what brings you all the way to a place like this — here just to watch my performance?” My fourth father paused. “Don’t flatter yourself. Today is Bianca’s birthday, and her heir designation ceremony. She recently said she’s willing to forgive you and start fresh. I’m here to bring you.” He added after a beat, “Ethan wants to see you too.” I’d heard three days ago that my first father, Ethan, was going to formally designate Bianca as the Sterling family heir — the ceremony timed to her birthday, complete with a grand gala. I was a year older than her. *Sterling heir* — that was a title my first father had promised me when I was ten. If this had been the old me, I would have torn the whole thing down before letting anyone take what was mine. But now I just looked at my fourth father, expressionless. “I don’t want to go.” My fourth father stared for a moment, then said: “This isn’t up to you.” He grabbed my arm and dragged me out the door, shoved me into his car. He drove me to his place first — made me shower, changed my clothes — then headed for the Sterling estate. In the car, my fourth father wouldn’t stop talking in my ear — telling me to be kind to Bianca, not to provoke her, not to think about bullying her. My heart ached with a dull, familiar pain. I watched the highway blur past outside the windows, faster and faster, and the desire to see Mother grew louder and louder in my head. Then I sat up, unbuckled my seatbelt, and at a hundred and forty kilometers per hour, I opened the car door. Before my feet left the car, I heard his scream. *At this speed,* I thought, *I’ll definitely die.* But the expected pain never came. Instead, I landed in a warm embrace. My fourth father had caught me. We tumbled across the gravel shoulder, rolling twice before stopping. His furious voice exploded above my head. “Iris, have you lost your mind?!” I looked at him. Blood from a gash on his forehead was streaming down his face. I instinctively reached out to wipe it away. But my fourth father recoiled in disgust, his expression turning vicious: “Can you stop playing these games? You just want to see if I still care, don’t you? Let me tell you — saving you means nothing. I’d save a stranger too. If I’d known this was your angle, I never would have jumped.” “Next time you want to die, go ahead. I won’t stop you.” My hand froze in midair. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted the river beyond the highway guardrail. I let out a bitter laugh. “Fine, Mr. Sterling. Remember what you just said.” Before he could react, I was on my feet in an instant. Without looking back, I vaulted over the guardrail and threw myself into the water. My fourth father had nearly drowned in a swimming pool as a child. He was terrified of water. And after saying something that cruel, he definitely wouldn’t come after me. So when the freezing river water rushed into my nose, I felt happy. *Finally — once they think I’m dead, I’ll be free. I’ll get to see Mother!*
I don’t know how much time passed before the darkness lifted. Just as I was excitedly sitting up, thinking I’d find Mother, someone slapped me so hard I hit the floor. “You bitch! All we did was have you wash glasses and carry plates at the bar, and the second you see Liam, you pull this stunt! Do you know he almost drowned trying to save you?!” My third father Julian’s voice came from above me. His face was ashen. Behind him stood Julian, hands in his pockets, watching me like I was some incomprehensible stranger. Of the four fathers, I’d been closest with my third father. The others were always busy, so the daily task of raising and educating me had fallen to him. He taught me to read and write. Taught me chemistry. Taught me to identify plants and compounds. He was the gentlest of them all. No matter how badly I messed up, he was patient. Never once punished me. But my third father — who never even raised his voice around me — hit me the very first day Bianca arrived. That day, Bianca had touched Julian’s lab chemicals on her own. She insisted I’d put them on her. My third father took a belt and whipped me with it. “Iris, I failed you as a teacher. That’s why you turned out this reckless — toying with people’s lives.” Later, when Bianca was poisoned again, my third father force-fed me an allergenic compound, then threw me into his university lab’s hazardous materials room. Countless particles detonated inside my body. Even though Julian treated me afterward, I still lost all sensation in one leg. Seeing that I wasn’t speaking, my third father assumed I was conceding guilt. His anger deepened. He raised his hand to hit me again. But my fourth father caught his wrist just in time. “Julian, calm down. Today Bianca is being formally designated as Sterling heir — of course she can’t handle it. She’s already tried to kill herself three times in front of me.” *Tried to kill herself.* They thought I was suicidal. What they didn’t know was that every time they “saved” me, they were trapping me deeper. I glanced at my fourth father. He’d changed clothes. His wounds were bandaged. But his face was paper-white. I remembered what my third father had just said. So it really was him who’d saved me. But my fourth father couldn’t swim. I couldn’t imagine how much it had cost him to pull me out of that water. My third father scoffed. “Liam, she played you. You’ve been away the past four years — she’s pulled this act on us more times than I can count. It’s just to get attention.” My fourth father blinked, then exhaled a few seconds later as if relieved. “So that’s all it is.” Nolan pushed his glasses up and chimed in: “She’s always been like this. Last time she stood at the edge of the rooftop in the school’s main plaza, she had everyone fooled — students even filmed it and it went viral. Next day she was perfectly fine.” His tone was flat. As if he were describing the weather. My third father turned back to me. “Iris, today is Bianca’s birthday. You can throw your tantrum in front of the two of us, but don’t you dare make a scene in front of Ethan and Marcus. You know how those two are—” Before he could finish, I was already lunging for the medicine cabinet behind him. I’d lived at my third father’s place long enough to know exactly where he kept the dangerous drugs. I opened the cabinet, found the most toxic bottle inside. Took out the most lethal pill. Swallowed it without hesitation. My third father’s face went white.
The pill was bitter. But I was happy. My third father had once told me this compound had no antidote. Once I swallowed it, they would surely believe I was dead. And Helen’s people would come for me afterward. My third father froze for only a few seconds before rushing forward and shoving his fingers into my mouth. “Are you insane?! Do you even know what that was?!” He pried my jaw open, his fingers clawing at my throat. After I vomited it up, he immediately bound my wrists, pierced my artery, and let the black blood drain out. Only when the blood flowing from my body turned bright red did my third father finally breathe. “Iris, it’s just an heir title. Is it really worth dying over?” My fourth father looked even more shaken. He now truly believed I wanted to die — his voice was trembling. “Iris, stop doing this. Listen — yesterday the four of us talked to Bianca. She’s willing to forgive you. After today, you can come home. Ethan will make you co-heir. We’ll treat you like we used to, okay? Please stop trying to end it.” Hearing this, tears fell from my eyes. Both fathers thought I was moved. But the next second, I dropped to my knees before them. “Third Father, Fourth Father — I’m begging you. Stop interfering. Just let me go.” My third father exploded. “Iris, you don’t understand what we’re—” “I understand.” There was no point in hiding it anymore. “But I don’t want to go home. I want to find my mother.” I poured out everything — Helen’s call, the news that Mother was alive — all of it. Their expressions grew more complicated with every word. Finally, my third father helped me to my feet. “Iris, listen to me. Your mother is truly dead.” When Mother died, it was my first father who found her body by the lake. My third father used every ounce of his medical knowledge trying to save her. He failed. After the four of them delivered me from her body, they sat vigil over her for seven days and seven nights. They watched her body grow cold, stiff, and decompose with their own eyes. They watched her vanish from this world. My third father told me that phone call was most likely a scam, or a delusion born from trauma. It wasn’t. I was certain. It was real. But no matter what I said, they wouldn’t believe me. My third father sighed. “If you really don’t want to go home, then stay here with me. As long as you behave, I won’t let anyone hurt you again.” I was about to shake my head. Then urgent footsteps sounded outside the door. A moment later, my first and second fathers burst in, panic written across their faces. “Julian, Liam — have you seen Bianca? She’s missing!” Both fathers in the room went pale. “She was supposed to be at the estate preparing for the gala. What do you mean, missing?” My second father Marcus’s voice was strained. “It’s my fault. This morning she said she wanted to personally go to the bar to bring Iris back. She asked me for the bar’s address. I was busy with training, didn’t take her — she went on her own. It’s been two hours and she still hasn’t—” He stopped mid-sentence. All four of them seemed to remember something at once, and their eyes locked onto me in unison. Facing those familiar accusatory stares — the four fathers’ righteous certainty, the four brothers’ silent complicity — my heart sank. Before they could even voice their suspicion, I was already shaking my head. “No! It wasn’t me!” “How wasn’t it you?” My fourth father stepped forward and grabbed my throat. “No wonder you’ve been trying to die all morning — it was to cover your tracks. Where did you hide Bianca?” His grip was crushing. Between that and the cuts already on my neck, tears came almost instantly. But I kept shaking my head. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen Bianca.” When I wouldn’t confess, my fourth father’s fury surged again. “Still lying? Guess I’ll have to teach you a lesson before you’ll talk.” He grabbed my throat and dragged me into the bathroom. Shoved my head into the full bathtub. Up and down. Over and over. Water flooded my nose, choking out every breath. Just when I thought I’d drown, my fourth father stopped. He slammed me onto the tile floor and tilted my chin up with the tip of his shoe. “I’ll ask you one last time. Where is Bianca?” The truth was on the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed it. *Iris, when will you learn?* *They’ll never believe you.* *Since they’ll never believe you, you might as well push them over the edge.* *Make them kill you.* With that thought, a smile spread across my face. Casually, I said: “Bianca? Oh — I already killed her.” Sure enough, the moment those words left my mouth, all eight faces went white. The most unhinged was my first father, Ethan. His eyes turned red. “What did you just say? Iris, how could you—” “How couldn’t I?” I threw my head back and laughed. “Her mother killed my mother. She stole my place as heir. All my honors at school became hers. She became the campus Queen. Isn’t that enough reason to kill her? And I didn’t just kill her — I dumped her in the slums and let the dirtiest, most disgusting men have their way with her. You always thought she was so pure, so pristine? She’s dirtier than I ever was now!” “Are you angry? Then kill me!” My words pushed all eight of them past the breaking point. The fathers’ eyes blazed red. My first father called for restraints. My second father brought in his former black-market boxing sparring partner — a man who knew exactly where to hit for maximum pain with minimum lethality. My third father injected me with a drug to keep me conscious at all times, ensuring I’d feel everything, unable to pass out no matter how excruciating it became. They made sure I couldn’t escape into unconsciousness. With that done, my fourth father gave the signal. The pain began. I held on at first, but as the blows intensified, I couldn’t even scream anymore. The worse it hurt, the happier I felt. *Soon — if they just don’t save me this time, Helen’s people will come for me. I’ll get to see Mother.* The four fathers, desperate to find Bianca, ordered the men not to hold back. The four brothers followed them out — Cade was the last to leave, turning back once at the doorway, but he still left. They’d barely stepped outside when a housekeeper came running. “Mr. Sterling — Miss Bianca — she’s been found!” My first father tensed instantly. “Where?” “Alive.” The housekeeper caught her breath. “Miss Bianca got lost on the way to the bar, then stopped at a mall for a while. That’s why she never came back. She’s heading this way now.” My second father blurted: “She’s alive?” The housekeeper looked confused but nodded. “Yes, sir. Alive.” All four faces went white at the same time. They exchanged glances, about to speak. Then my agonized scream — raw and violent — tore through the door behind them. Everyone spun around and threw the door open. My scalding blood splattered across their faces. One of the men was holding a blade — buried squarely in my chest, right where my heart was. **[PAYWALL]**
The blade entering my chest hurt more than anything. I almost couldn’t stop the tears. But this way, they would surely think I was dead. Helen’s people would come for me. Through the haze, I watched everyone rushing toward me. My first father ripped off his jacket and pressed it to my chest to stop the bleeding. My second father kicked the man holding the knife clear across the room. My third father pulled emergency medication from his bag and forced it into my mouth. My fourth father just kept calling my name, over and over. “Iris — don’t close your eyes!” “Iris — Iris, look at me —” The desperate way they crowded around me reminded me of that time I’d had a fever as a child. It was Christmas. All four fathers had cleared their schedules to spend the holiday with me. I’d played in the snow too long and developed a raging fever. I refused to take medicine. The fathers sat around my bed for hours, coaxing me with every sweet word they had. Back then, they really were good to me. The best people in my world. Even after everything they’d done to me because of Bianca, I still remembered those days. I looked at each of their faces one more time — four faces, memorized one by one. Then I closed my eyes. A moment later, the pain dissolved. When I woke, I found myself back in my third father’s guest bed. My wounds were bandaged. All four fathers sat nearby, haggard, looking like they hadn’t slept in days. Bianca was perched at my bedside. When she saw my eyes open, she squealed, “She’s finally awake!” My third father came over to check my pulse. Once he confirmed it was stable, he told me flatly: “The blade didn’t actually reach your heart. It wasn’t as deep as it looked. Combined with the emergency medication keeping you alive, you were only unconscious for five days.” Five days. My third father had driven through the night to his mentor’s private clinic — and used the world’s only state-of-the-art nano-rescue system. All to save me. I laughed bitterly at the news. Such a priceless thing, wasted on me. After all, I was still planning to leave. The moment I got the chance, I would “die” for them again. My second father leaned in. “Iris, if you didn’t hurt Bianca, why didn’t you just tell us? Why go to such extremes and make everyone worry?” This triggered a chorus of agreement from the fathers. They took turns scolding me for being reckless. The only one who spoke up for me was Bianca. “Stop blaming her! It’s all my fault — I wanted to stop at the mall to buy her a gift and then got lost. If I’d gotten to her sooner, none of this would have happened.” Her eyes reddened as she spoke. My first father glared at me. “Iris, Bianca didn’t even celebrate her own birthday because she was worried about you, and this is how you repay her? Apologize. Now.” I almost laughed. “Apologize for what, exactly? What did I do to her? She got herself lost because she’s an idiot. She chose to skip her own party. How is any of that my problem?” The moment I finished speaking. My third father’s brow furrowed: “You’re still this stubborn? Forget the past few days — what about everything you’ve done to her over the years? Don’t you owe Bianca an apology for that?” The mention of “over the years” broke something in me. “No! I’ll say it one more time — I never hit her, never cursed her, never poisoned her, never sent anyone after her. She staged every single incident! She framed me! Why do you always believe her and let her take everything from me?!”
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