It was the third year of me being his stand-in when Alexander’s first love returned. Before he could even open his mouth to dismiss me, I dutifully packed my bags. With all the money Alexander had given me over the years, I left the country to study. Five years later, I earned my Ph.D., joined a top-tier law firm, and fulfilled my youthful dreams. But I never expected my first case to be Alexander. It was his divorce from his first love, Seraphina. I skimmed through the thick stack of documents; things didn’t look good for him. Alexander didn’t recognize me. He rambled on about asset division, debt classification, and other such matters. Mid-sentence, his voice suddenly hitched, his gaze fixed on a long scar beneath the collar of my shirt. I met his eyes directly, my voice light and easy. “Long time no see, Alexander.” “Long time no see… Anya.” I raised an eyebrow, following his gaze, and looked down myself. This scar across my chest—I once saw it as my shame. It was about six or seven years ago, back when I was still Alexander’s mistress. To make me more like his first love, he demanded I replicate even Seraphina’s heart condition. For that surgery, I was practically forced onto the operating table. I resisted, I struggled, but he threatened me with my gravely ill mother. He watched as they forcibly injected me with anesthesia, watched my humiliated tears. I still remember how he looked at me back then, full of appreciation. “That defiant spark in you, it’s just like hers.” When I woke up, he was sitting by my bed, smiling as he congratulated me. “The surgery was a success, Anya. You’re more and more like her, and I’m very pleased.” “I’ve had the special medication for your mother flown in from abroad, and your brother’s tuition is paid. Don’t worry, I won’t let you down.” A congenital heart condition, yet he made me acquire it. That scar was carved onto my chest, and I always found ways to hide it. Alexander was very pleased. Seraphina had the same scar, and she hid hers too. I was more like her. But now, I wore a revealing low-cut blouse, openly displaying that scar. “Anya, you’ve changed so much, I didn’t recognize you at all.” Alexander’s voice had aged considerably too. In my memory, he always spoke with full confidence, often with a hint of menace. I smiled politely, responding with decorum. “Mr. Blackwood, you as well.” The door opened, and my mentor walked in, smiling as he looked at me. “Anya, don’t be nervous. Although this is your first official case, you’re my most brilliant student. I’m confident you’ll win this perfectly.” Alexander stood up, extending his hand politely to my mentor. “Mr. Harrison, I’ve heard so much about you. We’ll be relying on you for this case.” My mentor took his seat, and Alexander sat down right after. My thoughts slowly drifted. In my memories, I had never seen Alexander so polite and cautious. It was as if, when he was around me, he had always been ruthlessly unyielding, never so subservient. I shook my head, trying to clear those messy thoughts. Finally, I lowered my gaze and began to read through the documents. His wretched marriage with Seraphina was now laid out before me. I couldn’t help but recall. Actually, after I left the country, I had heard some things about him and Seraphina. Grand declarations of love, a wedding of the century, and him lavishly spending millions at auctions to dote on her. What surprised me most was two years ago, when he transferred all his shares to Seraphina. I was graduating with my master’s then, thinking I had moved past all the old memories. But seeing that news, I was stunned for a long time. During my three years by his side, I understood better than anyone how much he cared about his career, about his company’s interests. Once, someone secretly approached me, trying to turn me against him, to provide them with inside information. When Alexander found out, he first broke the limbs of their people and committed them to a mental institution. Then he locked me in the basement, strapped me to an electric chair, and warned me again and again: “If you dare to betray me, I swear I’ll make your life a living hell.” Even though I cried and explained that I wouldn’t, absolutely wouldn’t. He still showed no mercy. That time, he tortured me half to death, until blood flowed from beneath me – that’s when he stopped his brutality. That was my first child with him, and my last. The continuous torment cost me my uterus. But after my surgery, he merely said casually: “This punishment was a bit heavy, but it’s also to make you remember that the company is my bottom line. Don’t get any wild ideas.” “As for your uterus… Seraphina is child-free, so you being unable to conceive just makes you more like her.” That company, which he considered his bottom line, his treasure, and for which I lost my uterus without even touching it. Yet, he so easily bestowed it upon Seraphina. I didn’t know what to think, only that I felt pathetic. But now, looking at the divorce papers, written in black and white, demanding Seraphina return the shares. I suddenly couldn’t help but laugh out loud.
Realizing my lapse, I immediately apologized. Looking up into Alexander’s uncomfortable eyes, I stiffly controlled my inexpressible emotions. “Anya, about what happened before, I apologize to you.” “I should find another law firm for this case. I’ve bothered you enough.” He stood up, just about to reach for the documents on the table. Quick as a flash, I pressed down on them. “Oh, don’t be silly, Mr. Blackwood.” “Didn’t you used to tell me often not to let emotions affect work? I’m sure you’ve researched it; my firm is the top in the industry. Entrusting it to us is the most reliable choice.” “Don’t worry, I’ll handle this strictly professionally for you.” I stared directly into Alexander’s eyes. These eyes, now tired, withered, even utterly defeated. But eight years ago, it was these same eyes, sharp as blades, that flayed me alive. My relationship with him, actually, I had pursued it. For a girl from a small town with nothing but her looks, landing a wealthy, eligible bachelor like him was the best possible outcome. Not to mention, Alexander had a handsome face and a great physique. Noble and reserved, he was even more attractive than a movie star. In the private club room, one girl after another was sent in and then dismissed. Only I, he chose me to stay. The reason was simple: I was the most like Seraphina. I had done my homework long ago – the same mole, the same hairstyle, the same white dress. Even the curve of my smile, I practiced it again and again, mimicking Seraphina’s photos. He took me home and methodically signed a contract with me. A three-year term. I would be his secret lover, and he would pay me a monthly salary. He told me I was just his distraction, warning me not to harbor any ulterior motives, just to stay by his side obediently. I looked at that long string of zeros on the contract, so delighted I could barely hold the pen steady. Three years. With that much money, I would have enough to start a new life. I was too naive then, not understanding what kind of nightmare awaited me. From that day on, I began diligently acting as a stand-in. Seraphina, at the time, was dead set on pursuing her art and wandering the world with a painter. She promised Alexander that if things didn’t work out after three years, she would return and marry him. So Alexander signed the contract with me, knowing that after three years, he wouldn’t need my comfort anymore. I thought, “Isn’t it just learning to impersonate someone?” It seemed so straightforward. But I never expected the first thing Alexander made me learn was being sent to a private cosmetic surgery clinic. “To be like her, it couldn’t just be about external appearances.” “You’re my lover, you have your purpose. I want you to be like her in every aspect.” The anesthesia took effect. I could only feel the knife moving back and forth over my body. I shouldn’t have felt pain, yet tears kept falling. Humiliation, pain, helplessness, until after the surgery, Alexander meticulously inspected and compared. “It’s perfect.” From then on, he became increasingly obsessed with me. Often, I wouldn’t leave the bed for days and nights. I told myself repeatedly that he and I were just a contract. But so many years have passed, and those marks are like brands, indelible on my skin. It took me five years to truly let go. Sitting here now, with such a brilliant life, I think perhaps I should thank him. He stood frozen, as if unsure how to react, the thick stack of documents still pinned to the table by my hand. I tilted my head slightly. “Mr. Blackwood, my being here today owes something to your support as well.” “I will do my utmost to win this case for you. Trust me.”
Alexander was stunned for a long time, but finally signed the retainer agreement. This case offered a substantial fee. The firm took it seriously, my mentor took it seriously, and so did I. My mentor shrewdly noticed the unusual connection between Alexander and me. “Do you and Mr. Blackwood have a history?” I answered without hesitation. “I used to be his mistress.” My voice wasn’t loud, but the atmosphere clearly went silent for a few seconds. Facing my mentor, I offered a slight curve of my lips. “It’s not a bad thing. At least, my being able to stand here today is partly thanks to him.” The year I left Alexander, my account balance grew by over four million dollars. As I boarded the flight abroad, my parents’ calls nearly blew up my phone. In those three years, relying on the money Alexander gave them, they clawed their way from poverty to a comfortable middle-class life. My mother’s illness wasn’t just cured; nourished by money, she was radiant and full of vitality. My brother not only attended a good school but also underwent a complete transformation, acquiring the latest Apple products and luxury brand sets he’d never dared dream of before. Desire is insatiable. Their calls for money grew more urgent, their tone increasingly entitled. “The Blackwood family is rich anyway, so you should ask for more. Help your brother get ahead, and you’ll have more support later.” Until the three-year term ended. I excitedly told them I could finally leave Alexander. What I got in return was a torrent of insults. My parents asked me: “What else can you do? What kind of job can a girl do to earn this much money?” My brother asked me: “Did Alexander dump you? Did you upset him? Anya, go back and beg him! Men are soft-hearted but hard-mouthed. If you really break up with him, how will I ever find a wife?” I didn’t know how to respond. Three years was so long; the scars Alexander left on me had already healed. With time, I almost forgot how much it had hurt. They all took it for granted that money could heal all wounds, believing I shouldn’t let Alexander, this big catch, go. But I was still glad I had been resolute back then, leaving the country alone. When I first arrived here, it was unfamiliar territory, everything frighteningly strange. I endured the most helpless days all by myself. Back then, Alexander had contacted me too. He transferred a sum of money and sent a particularly jarring message. “Seraphina’s return doesn’t mean I’ll kick you out. There’s still a place for you by my side.” “She’s too precious; I can’t be rough with her. Anya, just stay with me. I need you, and I’ll pay you well.” I didn’t reply. A strong wave of nausea made me toss my phone straight into the trash. Another five years passed. I completed my studies and returned home; everything had changed irrevocably. I always congratulated myself for stopping just in time, until today, standing in court, I had the confidence to face Alexander and Seraphina directly. The two were at loggerheads, no longer the picture of a match made in heaven, celebrated by all. Alexander’s face was grim, but his gaze kept darting uncomfortably in my direction. Seraphina didn’t recognize me, glaring coldly at Alexander. “You gave all that to me yourself. How dare you want it back now? Alexander, are you really that heartless?” Alexander’s voice was hoarse. “Yes, I once loved you, cherished you, wanted to give you everything best.” “But what about you? You used my money to support that struggling painter, and even… to have his child.” “You said you were child-free, afraid of pain. For years, I’ve touched you so carefully, but you…” Alexander’s words stopped here, and he inexplicably turned his gaze to me. I understood the guilt in his eyes. I once had a child with him too. When I miscarried due to his torment, I was in agony, devastated. But he told me coldly: “You’re just a contract mistress; you were never meant to have my child.” He even said it made me more like the child-free Seraphina, and he was very pleased, paying me a large sum in compensation. With that money, I hesitated for a long time, ultimately choosing to compromise. But I never expected that a month later, I would see my child again with my own eyes. It was at Seraphina’s art exhibition. Holding the microphone, she thanked, word for word: “Here, I must thank my good friend, Alexander, who provided me with inspiration.” “He specifically prepared a painful recording of a mother losing her child, allowing me to fully grasp the model’s anguish, which enabled me to create this painting.” On the canvas, I lay on a hospital bed, crying uncontrollably as I looked at the bloody remains. Displayed right next to the painting were images of my lost child and my uterus, presented starkly for everyone to see. I should have broken down, but back then, I just laughed blankly. My phone rang—a call from home again. I numbly answered; it was my brother, hounding me for money as if I owed him: “Anya, I heard Alexander gave you a lot of money again. Why haven’t you transferred it to Mom? Her health hasn’t been good lately; she needs supplements. I know you’re busy, so just transfer the money, and I’ll go buy them.”
My thoughts abruptly halted again. In court, Seraphina’s voice was slightly choked: “Alexander, don’t think I don’t know that you could never forget your previous little mistress. You say you couldn’t bear to touch me, but I saw you with her photos… Sometimes in the middle of the night, you’d even call out her name in your dreams.” “You lie beside me, but your heart holds someone else. What right do you have to accuse me of betrayal?” Her voice grew more confident. She pulled a notebook from her purse, opened it in front of everyone, and read aloud. “I don’t know why I thought of you again, Anya. I always regret how I treated you back then. If I could do it over, I would never let you go.” Seraphina looked up, her eyes red, almost screaming her accusation at Alexander. “You just couldn’t find her! Your heart hasn’t been with me for ages. I couldn’t feel your love, so what’s wrong with me seeking other comforts? What did I do wrong!” Seraphina continued her self-indulgent breakdown, but my mentor’s gaze quietly shifted to me. I remained impassive, calmly proceeding with the formalities, and ignoring Alexander’s repeated glances. For the rest of the hearing, Alexander didn’t say another word. Only I rationally argued and debated, ultimately securing victory in that case. Seraphina was still breaking down, but Alexander didn’t spare her a glance. He followed me all the way back to the law firm. I offered him a polite smile. “Congratulations. Your demands have been met.” He smiled too. “And congratulations to you on your first professional victory.” I nodded unreservedly. “Thank you. I earned it.” He paused, opened his mouth, hesitated for a long time, and finally said: “That diary… I wrote it haphazardly when I was drunk. I never thought she’d find it. Don’t overthink it.” I waved my hand dismissively, responding casually: “It’s nothing. I’m not overthinking it.” He gave an awkward laugh, and I politely nodded, my voice indifferent. “Is there anything else?” Alexander’s gaze darted around a bit, then he pulled out two amusement park tickets. I couldn’t quite describe the sudden rush of emotions tearing through me. “I don’t know if there’s still a chance to invite you.” His voice was soft, but it ripped a huge chasm in my heart. It hurt, deeply. Many years ago, Alexander had also taken me to an amusement park. It was my first time ever at an amusement park. Everything seemed fascinating. I chattered excitedly, pulling Alexander along, talking non-stop. Until we rode the roller coaster together. He initially held my hand tightly, his eyes crinkling in a smile, telling me not to be afraid, that he would stay with me. To be honest, in that single moment, looking into his eyes, my heart pounded so fast. I even secretly wondered if, at some point, he might have loved me too. Excitement, exhilaration, and a hint of love enveloped me, so tightly that I didn’t even feel fear. Everything just felt wonderfully perfect. I never expected Alexander’s face to darken the moment we got off the roller coaster. “Anya, you’re smiling so happily, you’re not like her.” I was startled by his sudden coldness, tried stiffly to explain, but he cut me off. “Seraphina is timid; every time we rode a roller coaster, she’d burrow into my arms and even cry from fear afterward. She wouldn’t be as excited as you; this isn’t right.” So he took me for a second, then a third ride. For some reason, I just couldn’t cry. All those self-important, ridiculous feelings instantly turned into a joke. I only felt humiliation. Finally, he got angry and took me straight to his company. On a hundred-story building, he tied me directly outside the window and slowly, bit by bit, cut the ropes holding me with a dagger. I finally became afraid, starting to cry hysterically. I cried for a very long time, but he never stopped until the rope was completely severed. I thought I would truly fall to my death, but then he violently yanked me back. I was so terrified I lost control of my bladder. I couldn’t even cry anymore, just trembled uncontrollably from extreme fear. Alexander was finally satisfied. He smiled and spoke. “Now you’re like her.” He then pulled me into his arms. “Don’t be afraid. I’m here. How could I let anything happen to you?” Yet now, he stood there with two amusement park tickets, shamelessly saying to me. “Anya, I still remember you once told me you longed for an amusement park, and I remember your happy expression.” “I just didn’t appreciate it back then. If I could, I want to take action to help you overwrite those bad memories.” His eyes were so sincere. I looked and looked, unable to find a trace of guilt. “Anya, will you give me another chance?” But as soon as he finished speaking, someone violently pushed him aside. The man who stepped in front of me spoke with an icy tone. “Who allowed you to approach her?” Alexander, perhaps never having been treated so roughly, struggled to his feet, his face full of fury. “Who are you? I’m speaking with her. What right do you have to interfere?” The man calmly adjusted his suit cuff, impossibly elegant. “Me? Who I am, Anya will tell you herself.” He turned to look at me, his eyes tender and affectionate. I immediately linked my arm through his. “Allow me to introduce you. This is my fiancé, Julian.” I stood on my tiptoes and unhesitatingly kissed Julian’s cheek.
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