The night of my 18th birthday celebration, my sister, Isabelle, disguised as me, slipped into my boyfriend Alex’s bed. Lost in the haze of passion, Alex, still just a young man, sensed something was off. His face contorted with pure disgust as he ordered her to get out. At 22, on my wedding day, Isabelle arrived in a wedding dress, loudly inviting Alex to elope with her. Alex calmly instructed security to escort her out, but I saw a flicker of raw emotion in his eyes. At 23, when I was holding my positive pregnancy test, my heart swelling with joy, Isabelle stepped in front of Alex, taking a blade meant for him from some business rivals. The blow damaged her spine, leaving her unable to dance ever again. By her hospital bed, Alex gently kissed Isabelle’s hand, promising to take care of her for the rest of his life. Later, I quietly ended my pregnancy and filed for divorce. Alex’s eyes were filled with guilt, but he eventually signed the divorce papers. “I’m sorry, Chloe. Isabelle only has me.” At 25, I returned for his and Isabelle’s wedding, a dazzling diamond ring sparkling on my finger. Alex, his eyes bloodshot, cornered me. “Don’t find a fake just to spite me. This ring was designed by Ayu, known as ‘The Divine Pen,’ for his wife. How could it be on your hand?” “Guess why he’s called Ayu?”
The Miller family and the Dubois family were set to join in marriage. In the engagement photos released, my sister, Isabelle Dubois, wore a radiant smile, while my ex-husband, Alex Miller, looked at her with doting affection. Actually, this was the second time they’d been photographed together in wedding attire. The first time was at my own wedding. Alex stood by my side in his groom’s suit, while Isabelle, in a wedding dress, stood opposite me. She smiled brightly, extending a hand to my husband. “Alex, will you elope with me?” My wedding ended abruptly and messily, but their story had just begun, painted in bold, dramatic strokes. Back then, Alex had the security escort her out. Now, after all that back and forth, they were finally together. Some busybody dug up old photos from my wedding, capturing the scene of two women fighting over one man: “If I were Chloe Dubois, I wouldn’t even dare to show my face back at the Dubois family home. She wasted a loving couple’s time for years.” “Isabelle Dubois is just too kind-hearted, still caring about her sister. She even specially invited her back for the wedding.” “Isabelle Dubois is still too naive. Isn’t she afraid Chloe Dubois still harbors feelings for Alex? Especially now that Alex Miller is the head of the Miller family; so many people want to cling to him.” It seemed everyone sided with Isabelle Dubois. My name is Chloe Dubois. But my sister’s name is Isabelle Dubois. It was clear that Isabelle was the family’s precious gem, the apple of their eye. And I was the one blamed for my mother’s death during childbirth. When registering my name, my father casually pointed to a random name on the registration desk’s list – Chloe. The clerk paused, a hint of pity in her eyes. And so, I was named Chloe. My name could be changed, but my family’s affections never would. From childhood, anything Isabelle wanted, she eventually got. And anything that was mine, Isabelle wanted. Alex was an exception. Despite Isabelle’s endless attempts to lure him away, Alex remained unmoved, steadfastly choosing me. For Isabelle’s sake, my father even stooped so low as to beg Alex. “The Dubois family will be inherited by Isabelle. If you choose Isabelle, the Dubois family is willing to give up fifty percent of its profits.” Alex tightly gripped my trembling hand, his voice firm and resolute. “Mr. Dubois, my marriage is not a commodity. My alliance with the Dubois family is solely because I love Chloe.” After the wedding, due to Isabelle’s outrageous behavior, many families interested in her backed out. My father, fearing Isabelle’s sadness, sent her to London to study dance. I once thought I was lucky, having stubbornly grown for years, finally chosen decisively by someone. However, the time when passion fades is when the real test begins. It was another thick, sultry night. Alex’s voice was hoarse as he coaxed me for another round, his hot breath caressing my collarbone. A special notification sound rang out. Alex froze for a moment, glancing quickly at his phone. Then, the ravenous beast of a man transformed back into the polished, suited professional. He kissed the sweat from my forehead. “There’s a problem with business in the city. I need to go check it out.” After Alex left, I idly flipped through the books on the shelf. It felt like destiny. A book from the very top shelf, which I usually couldn’t reach, just happened to fall, revealing the corner of a photo tucked inside. I pulled it out casually, and froze. It was a photo from my wedding with Alex. But the main subject in the picture was Isabelle, her hand outstretched dramatically towards Alex. The photo looked like it had been repeatedly caressed, its edges already frayed. On the back of the photo was Alex’s bold, flourishing script: “Maybe I’ll never find love this raw and passionate again.” Clutching the photo that weighed a ton in my hands, I called Alex. His voice was as gentle as ever. “Chloe, the weather in the city is very dry. My mouth is swollen from being overworked. Don’t forget to drink plenty of water at home, okay?” I said okay, then calmly hung up. Alex was lying. He didn’t notice, but in the background, Big Ben chimed. He was clearly in London. The city where Isabelle was. The day I decided to divorce him, Isabelle took a knife for Alex, blocking an attack from his enemies. That knife wound damaged her spine, leaving her lower body paralyzed. Isabelle could never dance again. When I rushed to the hospital, Alex was tightly holding Isabelle, sobbing and promising to take care of her for the rest of his life. Seeing me arrive, Isabelle deliberately hooked her arm around Alex’s neck, trying to kiss him. Alex saw me and frantically tried to pull away, but he couldn’t bring himself to push away Isabelle, whose eyes were brimming with tears. They kissed passionately, a long, silver thread of saliva stretching between their lips when they finally pulled apart. I turned to leave, but after only a few steps, the world spun around me. When I woke up again, the nurse chided me disapprovingly. “You’re two months pregnant, and you still haven’t been eating properly. You fainted from low blood sugar. Luckily, you were at the hospital.” My mind went blank. I didn’t know how to face this tiny life. No matter what, Alex had to know. “Alex, we have a…” “Chloe, you’re too reckless.” Alex rushed in, his face full of disapproval. He didn’t even have the patience to let me finish a sentence, much less notice my pale face. My father, whom I hadn’t seen in ages, reached out to hit me. Alex stopped him, but my father pointed at me, spitting venom. “You curse! Your sister is already in that state, and you have the audacity to fake illness just to drag Alex away!” A chilling desolation settled deep in my soul. This was my family, my beloved. Perhaps seeing how truly awful I looked, Alex stopped my father’s tirade. “It’s alright, Dad. Isabelle needs someone there. We should go back quickly.” Watching them walk towards the door without a backward glance, I spoke again. “Wait.” This time, Alex frowned, a flash of impatience crossing his face. “Chloe, I’ll come back to see you in a bit.” “No need.” I spoke calmly. “Alex, let’s get a divorce.”
After getting the divorce certificate, I quietly ended my pregnancy alone. Taking the large portion of assets Alex had divided for me, I found a picturesque little town in Switzerland to recover. They found me an eyesore; two years passed, and not a single phone call came from my closest relatives. I was content with the peace and quiet. Until recently, when my sister called. “Chloe, Dad is seriously ill. Come back to see him one last time.” Dying? Well, that might be worth going back to enjoy the show. So, I boarded a flight home. When I arrived home, the dark, oppressive clouds hung very low, signaling an impending storm. As soon as I pushed open the door, my eyes fell on vivid red celebratory decorations. My father sat solemnly on the couch, his stern gaze sweeping over me. Isabelle seemed oblivious, clinging affectionately to my father’s arm, playfully coaxing him, and his usually strict gaze instantly softened with doting affection. I’d lived through such blatant favoritism for over a decade, and the pain had long since dulled. But clearly, he was perfectly healthy. “Father, I heard you were seriously ill?” I raised an eyebrow, smiling as I looked at my sister. “You brat!” A glass cup whizzed past my forehead, shattering into pieces. A sharp sting on my forehead, and I turned to leave. My sister seemed to react just then, quickly rolling her wheelchair to my side, affectionately grabbing my hand. She had changed so much. Before, she was always arrogant and overbearing with me. Now, she appeared much calmer on the surface, but her eyes held a hint of deranged madness and a sick obsession. I guessed that being unable to dance ever again was a huge blow to her. After all, once, simply because a dance teacher praised my talent, she secretly scattered marbles on the stairs. Luckily, someone discovered Isabelle’s actions and warned me. But I still followed Isabelle’s unspoken wish and fell. I controlled my fall, making it not too light, not too heavy, but pretending it was very serious. I missed the chance to participate in the dance competition. From then on, I deliberately hid my talents, choosing to be Isabelle’s shadow. How could such a fiercely competitive person like her endure needing help even with basic bodily functions? My sister forced a gentle smile. “Chloe, on such a joyous day, what silly things are you saying?” At this point, there was nothing I didn’t understand. They had tricked me into coming back to witness Alex and Isabelle’s wedding. Meeting my sister’s hidden smugness and challenging gaze, I replied calmly and sincerely, “Then, congratulations to you both in advance, sister and brother-in-law. May you have a hundred years of harmony and many children.” Isabelle’s challenging smile froze on her lips. The person who had just opened the door and stepped in paused, his steps faltering for a moment. “Alex!” My sister called out cheerfully. Two years had softened Alex’s youthful sharp edges, adding a newfound tenderness. He walked past me, his hands behind his back, and knelt in front of Isabelle’s wheelchair. His familiar voice carried a doting tone I’d never heard before. “Guess what today is?” My sister chirped with delight and pride. “I smell it! It’s jasmine!” Alex took the jasmine flowers he’d hidden behind his back and placed them in Isabelle’s arms. He seemed to notice me only then, giving me a polite nod. “Chloe’s back.” We just looked at each other, and I smiled and nodded. Isabelle linked her arm through Alex’s and enthusiastically invited me, “My wedding is next week. Why don’t you stay here at home until then?” “No need.” I refused directly. Isabelle immediately looked wronged, her eyes filling with tears. “Chloe, are you still mad at me and Alex for being together…?” Seeing my sister cry, Alex frowned at me. It was clearly a warning, yet his eyes held a mix of curiosity and secret delight. “Don’t worry, brother-in-law is just brother-in-law. I’ll attend the wedding.” Alex’s lips tightened into a thin line, and Isabelle’s face was a picture, like she’d just swallowed a lemon. It was strange. I was doing exactly what they wanted, yet the two in front of me looked unhappy. But soon, it was my turn to be unhappy. As I prepared to leave, the dark, oppressive clouds finally unleashed a torrential downpour. The rain was too fierce; I had no choice but to stay the night. At dinner, facing a group of truly sickening faces, I had no appetite. At night, I tried to force myself to sleep, but my stomach rumbled like thunder, protesting. Creeping into the kitchen in the dark to find something to eat, I accidentally knocked over a glass. Before it could fall, a large hand with prominent knuckles caught the cup mid-air. Alex remained in his forward-leaning posture, catching the cup, trapping me between him and the counter. His voice was slightly hoarse. “How can I be at ease when you take such poor care of yourself?” Closer now, he saw the wound on my forehead. “Does it hurt?” He reached out to touch it, but I pulled away. A fleeting flicker of pain crossed his eyes, and Alex’s voice held a dangerous edge. “Did he hit you again?” “It has nothing to do with you.” “How can it have nothing to do with me!” I looked directly into Alex’s eyes, watching his agitated emotions cool inch by inch under my steady gaze. “I apologize. I was worried Isabelle might overthink things earlier, but I still want to ask you, how have the past few years been for you?” “Without you, I naturally haven’t been able to sleep, my heart ripped to shreds.” As Alex looked on in shock, I grabbed his tie, pulling him towards me. “Satisfied with that answer?” “Brother-in-law.” Ignoring the now petrified Alex, I turned and went upstairs. Only when I was safely tucked into the soft bed did I finally let out a long breath. His distressed expression when he saw my injury didn’t seem feigned, just like the young man who, years ago, would furiously lash out for me whenever he saw me hurt. Alex had been mature beyond his years, yet his first act of rebellion was hitting my father. Although the Miller family was more powerful than the Dubois family, my father was still an elder. That time, Alex was pressured by his own father to apologize, and though the cane lashed fiercely against him, he bit his lip and didn’t utter a sound. Later, as I cried while applying ointment to his bloody, bruised back, my tears falling onto him, he could still smile and wipe away my tears, saying it was worth it. But nothing lasts, not even the purest joy of young love.
At five in the morning, everyone in the Dubois family mansion was awakened by a violent knocking at the door. I looked down from my second-floor window. A long convoy of cars almost surrounded the mansion. A team of well-trained men in black suits and sunglasses emerged from the vehicles. I leisurely sipped my tea to perk up, knowing it had nothing to do with me anyway. Until I saw the person who stepped out of the lead car. I choked on my tea. Oh, crap! Just as I was about to hide behind the curtains, I met a pair of charming eyes that crinkled with amusement. I dragged my luggage and scrambled downstairs. Halfway down, Alex grabbed my arm. “Something’s not right outside. Don’t run around.” Before he finished speaking, the door swung open. Julian Thorne wore a mask, his hat brim pulled low, revealing only a pair of slightly narrowed, alluring eyes. As soon as he stepped inside, he saw Alex and me wrestling, and the curve of his eyes deepened. The angrier this man got, the brighter his smile became. A shiver ran down my spine. I shook off Alex’s hand and practically launched myself into Julian’s embrace. “You were in such a hurry to see me?” “My wife just returned to the country and immediately met up with her ex-husband. Who wouldn’t be in a hurry?” A wave of guilt washed over me, silencing my retort. Alex’s voice, thick with suppressed anger, broke the silence. “Chloe, who is he?” Julian raised an eyebrow, giving Alex a sidelong glance. “Clearly, the current one.” Alex was about to say more when the sound of a wheelchair rolling broke through. Isabelle laughed lightly, covering her mouth. “How thoughtful of Chloe to hire actors overnight for our entertainment. It really is quite amusing.” Alex’s tense expression relaxed, a “I knew it” look crossing his face. “Tch.” Julian couldn’t help but chuckle. The next second, he saw the red swelling on my forehead, and his smile froze. “Acting, huh? I like it.” Julian crooked a finger, and a swarm of bodyguards surged forward. “Next up, we’re going to demonstrate how to teach these rotten relatives a painful lesson.” In the ensuing chaos, Julian swept me up with one arm and turned to leave. I hooked my arms around his neck. “Quite the dramatic entrance.” “Hmph, I was in such a rush to catch you, I didn’t even bother with much fanfare.” “Oh, poor you,” I teased.
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