Author: Momo Chan

When David got a phone call during my prenatal checkup, his face turned pale instantly. He looked at me with pain in his eyes. “Brenna, Marta is leaving the country. She’s never coming back. I have to go say goodbye to her.” I gently stroked my belly, watching him quietly. “Do you really have to go?” David’s voice trembled as he avoided my gaze. “Brenna, I’ll be a good husband from now on. The three of us—our family—we’ll be happy together.” With that, he left without looking back. He didn’t see me collapse to the floor behind him. In the operating room, the doctor shook his head and said with regret: “I’m afraid we can’t save the baby.” I closed my eyes and nodded. The baby was gone. And I was done with David too. Marta’s name had become forbidden territory between David and me. It had been a long time since anyone mentioned it. Hearing it again today felt almost surreal, like a lifetime had passed. David’s expression was conflicted and pained. Just like when he knelt before me, begging for forgiveness. He had sworn to heaven, promising me he would cut all ties with Marta. “Do you really have to go?” My voice didn’t even sound like my own—surprisingly calm. But David had already left without looking back. His figure was resolute and decisive. I laughed. A sudden pain shot through my abdomen, and blood pooled on the floor. This child couldn’t be saved after all. After the surgery, I returned home with a deathly pale face. The house was pitch dark. David hadn’t come back. No phone call. No message. I curled my lips in mockery. Where David was, it went without saying. Just as I was about to go to the bedroom, the front door suddenly opened. David was back. He looked at me with some surprise, his eyes flickering. “Brenna, why are you in the living room? Why haven’t you gone to bed yet? How did the checkup go today?” He stepped forward, trying to put his arm around me. But I smelled a perfume that belonged to neither of us. When my eyes swept over his neck, I also noticed a red mark. I should have been furious, but instead I felt a sense of finality and relief. No interrogation. No hysterics. I stepped back in disgust. “David, let’s get a divorce.” David froze in place, then his tone became irritated. “Brenna! What the hell are you trying to do? I told you, this was the last time! Why can’t you just be understanding?” I looked at David, now completely losing his composure, my eyes somewhat dazed. He rarely lost his temper with me. In everyone’s eyes, David loved me deeply, and I believed it too. He would spend fortunes to buy me top-tier jewelry at auctions. He would set off fireworks that lit up the entire city for my birthday, just to make me happy. There were countless instances like these. Until one person appeared—his new assistant, Marta. Just because I told Marta to get out of David’s passenger seat, her eyes reddened with grievance. And David snapped at me. That’s when I knew David had crossed the line with Marta. I cried and threw fits, even threatening to expose Marta and make sure she couldn’t survive in New York. David—such a proud man—knelt before me. He said he would cut her off completely. He said he had just lost his way temporarily. He said he would fire Marta and never see her again. At that time, touching the baby in my belly, I decided to give David one more chance. But now, I knew I was done with this man. David was still making excuses. “Brenna, I told you, this is the last time. She’s already gone. Can you please stop making a scene? Didn’t we agree not to bring up divorce again?” Looking at David, I felt like the man before me had become completely unrecognizable. He had turned into a liar whose mouth was full of nothing but lies. My abdomen started hurting again. I was too tired to argue with David anymore and turned back to the bedroom. A deafening slam of the door echoed from the entrance.

That night, I slept restlessly. My dreams were filled with fragments of the past. David and I had an arranged marriage, but we surprisingly got along well. I had hesitated about this relationship at first. My parents respected my opinion and also advised me to think carefully. It was David who knelt before me and swore to heaven. “Brenna, I will never betray you in this lifetime!” “I’m different from them! I will definitely treat you well!” “You’ll be the only one by my side!” The vows in my ears seemed like yesterday, but they had long since become a joke. When Marta’s eyes turned red with her timid expression. I saw the tenderness in David’s eyes. The special treatment that once belonged only to me, he gave to another woman. I questioned David through my tears, even slapping him several times. But all I got in return was his response. “Brenna, everyone is like this!” “Besides, I haven’t even cheated!” I broke down. I stopped eating and drinking, even developed self-harming tendencies. That midnight, when David woke up, he saw me standing by the window with one foot almost stepping out. David cried right then and there. He held me tight, dragged me to the sofa. Then he knelt on the ground, slapping himself over and over. “Brenna, I’ll never say such awful things again.” “I’ll make Marta leave. I’ll never let her appear in front of you again for the rest of my life.” Seeing David like that, my heart softened. Later, things between us seemed to return to how they were before. But something was wrong with my heart. It grew more and more numb, colder and colder, until it became completely desolate. Maybe I should have divorced him then, but I became pregnant. With the child that David and I had hoped for three years. When I woke up, it was already bright outside. I came to the living room and saw the table already filled with my favorite desserts. David was looking at me with an ingratiating expression. “Brenna, you must be starving, right?” “These are your favorites.” “Eat something quickly.” David’s demeanor was natural, as if yesterday’s events had never happened. He even pulled out a chair for me and got the utensils ready. I sat down silently and started eating. My body desperately needed nutrition right now, and I was too tired to argue. Seeing me finish eating, David also relaxed. He thought yesterday’s incident was already behind us. “Brenna, I have to go on a business trip for a while. Take good care of yourself at home.” I nodded calmly. “When you come back, we’ll go through the divorce procedures.” David’s face changed instantly. The cup beside him was smashed violently on the floor. His tone was filled with obvious humiliation and anger. “Brenna, I’ve already compromised. What more do you want? Why have you become so aggressive?” “Brenna, let me tell you, I will never divorce you!” Looking at David’s ferocious expression, my heart was surprisingly calm. The old Brenna would probably have already been crying with grievance. Back then, she loved David. Couldn’t bear to let him go. Even though his heart had already strayed from Brenna, she would rather torment herself to death than give him another chance. But now, I didn’t want him anymore. “David, I’m leaving. I’m making room for your Marta. Why are you angry? I’m doing you a favor.” David became even more furious. “Brenna! Don’t be so unreasonable! I told you yesterday was the last time. I did what you asked—fired her, and won’t see her again. What more do you want from me?” “Besides, I never even cheated in the first place! What do you want? I love you, only you, just you!” I laughed. At David’s shamelessness. “David. Do you really think I’m an idiot? You came back so late yesterday, with that hickey on your neck, that perfume on your clothes. And now this sudden business trip.” “David, honestly, you’re pretty shameless.” The room fell silent instantly. David’s chest heaved, his face alternating between green and white. I ignored him and walked straight out the door. David probably forgot that when he knelt down and begged repeatedly to marry me, he had signed a divorce agreement. If he ever betrayed me, I could leave him at any time. Now, this divorce agreement was his retribution!

After leaving the house I shared with David, I returned to my parents’ place. My parents were delighted to see me come back. “Brenna, what brings you here today?” They came up to me, their faces full of concern. “Didn’t you have a checkup yesterday? How’s the baby?” I couldn’t hold it in anymore. Tears streamed down my face instantly. “Mom, Dad, the baby is gone. I want a divorce.” My parents didn’t know about David and Marta. Back then, I was filled with unwillingness, pain, and inner conflict. But I couldn’t bring myself to be ruthless. I suffered and struggled alone, without telling my parents. After hearing my words, my parents fell silent instantly. My mother’s eyes turned red as she pulled me into her arms. “What happened? Are you in pain?” I cried even harder. I told my parents everything about David and Marta. Our family’s company still had business partnerships with David’s company. If we divorced, we would definitely have to sever those ties. My father slammed his hand on the table. “Divorce! Brenna, your mother and I are getting old. We don’t have grand ambitions anymore.” “If we don’t cooperate, then we don’t! We have enough money to support the three of us. You don’t need to compromise on anything!” Hearing my father’s words, I cried even harder. So I stayed at my parents’ house. David kept calling, but I never answered. I just wanted to quietly recover my health before dealing with the divorce proceedings. But one day, my father suddenly came home looking furious. “That David is a complete bastard!” From my father, I learned that David had actually started pressuring our family’s company! I couldn’t take it anymore. I rushed out to settle accounts with David. How dare he! When I returned to the house I shared with David, there was someone else there—Marta, who was supposed to have left the country! Seeing me come back, David’s face immediately darkened. Marta flinched and hid behind David. David’s expression became even uglier. “Brenna, you still have the nerve to come back?” I looked at him coldly. “David, why wouldn’t I have the nerve to come back? You’re bringing your mistress into our home, and you have the nerve to talk to me like that? Even if we divorce, you didn’t need to target my dad’s company!” David’s eyes darkened. “Brenna, this is a warning and punishment for you! Why did you go after Marta? She was already leaving.” Looking at David, I found it absurd. “I went after her? David, I wouldn’t dirty my hands!” But David demanded sharply. “If not you, then who? You actually had someone kidnap her and tried to humiliate her! Do you know, if I hadn’t arrived in time, Marta would have been ruined!” His eyes were cold, his lips mocking. “You did say before that you would destroy Marta.” Yes, back when I loved David deeply and was full of madness, I swore to fight Marta to the death. But not anymore. I looked at Marta. She was sobbing softly behind David, but her eyes looking at me were full of provocation. I understood. Marta never planned to leave the country, never intended to leave. She was just playing the long game. The kidnapping and humiliation were all a show she directed herself. Only David believed it. Marta carefully tugged at David’s sleeve. “David, don’t fight with Brenna anymore.” “I’m fine. It’s all my fault. I got too close to you, that’s why Brenna got angry.” “Don’t worry, I will definitely leave.” But David loudly stopped Marta. “Marta, don’t be afraid!” “I won’t let you leave anymore! You’re all alone going abroad to an unfamiliar place—who knows what else might happen.” After comforting Marta, David turned to look at me. “Brenna, I’ll arrange for Marta to work at a branch office.” “She won’t appear in front of us.” “This is compensation for you hurting her this time.” “Put away your scheming. I told you, you’ll always be my wife.” At this point, he softened his voice. “I won’t hold it against you this time. I know you care about me—love makes people irrational.” “Your family and mine will continue our cooperation. I’ll hold a press conference to stabilize the situation.” “We’re about to become parents. Let’s be good, stop making trouble, okay?” I found it ridiculous. He didn’t know the baby was already gone. When he chose Marta once again. I didn’t want to argue with David anymore. Since he had no shame, I didn’t need to save face for him either. I looked at David deeply and smiled, nodding. This time, I was going to give David a big gift.

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My pilot husband had to work overtime on Valentine’s Day, so I secretly boarded his flight with our daughter, wanting to surprise him. In business class, my daughter hugged her doll and asked happily, “Mom, can I go see Dad fly the plane?” Before I could answer, the woman sitting next to me laughed: “Her dad’s a pilot?” I nodded. The woman continued: “What a coincidence! My husband’s a pilot too, and he’s the airline’s ace captain!” Looking at her proud expression, I smiled: “Really?” Soon, my husband’s steady voice came through the PA system: “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m the captain of this flight…” My heart warmed, but the woman next to me suddenly leaned closer: “That’s my husband, the captain. Doesn’t he have a nice voice?” I froze completely. The woman waved the luxury watch on her wrist: “He said he couldn’t be with me on Valentine’s Day. He coaxed me for hours last night and gave me this watch, specially asking me to fly with him today.” I stared at that watch and immediately recognized it as the promotion gift I’d just given my husband two days ago…

Ruby sat beside me, fiddling with the drawing she’d prepared for her dad—a wobbly but colorful picture of our family of three. Ruby insisted on surprising her dad, which is why I booked this flight. “That watch must be expensive, right?” I asked, controlling my emotions. “Not really.” Rose waved her hand dismissively, the corners of her mouth curved just right—not too showy, but unable to hide her smugness. “My husband makes hundreds of thousands a month. Buying this is nothing to him.” Hundreds of thousands a month? I knew Jett’s salary very well. An ace captain’s pay wasn’t low, but it definitely didn’t reach hundreds of thousands monthly. Not to mention he only became captain thanks to my connections. Three years ago during the captain promotion assessment, his performance was mediocre. It was my father—a director at Jett’s airline—who intervened to secure his qualification. And for these three years, despite having the captain title, he’d actually only served as first officer. All of this, Rose’s “ace captain” had clearly never mentioned. “Your husband treats you so well.” I said, though my eyes couldn’t move from that watch. The back of the case should have an inscription: “To Jett, may every flight be safe—your eternal love.” It was a limited edition I’d searched three cities to find three years ago. Rose was immersed in her own happiness, completely oblivious to my increasingly rigid expression. “It’s what he owes me. Who told him he couldn’t spend Valentine’s Day with me? He spent half the night last night trying to make it up to me.” Last night, Jett called, his voice full of exhaustion: “Rachel, I have extra simulator training tonight. It’s too late, so I’ll just crash at the company dorm and not come home.” “Won’t you be tired flying on Valentine’s Day tomorrow?” I’d felt sorry for him then. “For you and Ruby, any amount of exhaustion is worth it.” He said it so sincerely, I didn’t doubt him at all. Turns out his so-called “extra training” was in another woman’s bed. “That’s not all he’s given me. He gives me gifts every month.” Seeing how attentively I was listening, Rose couldn’t control her need to show off anymore. She leaned over and picked up an orange Hermès Birkin bag from beside her seat, its color painfully bright under the cabin lights. “This one, birthday gift from last year.” She stroked the bag like stroking a lover’s face. My breathing stopped. That bag, limited to fifty pieces worldwide, had disappeared from my closet six months ago. Jett had said he accidentally damaged it while grabbing something, then just threw it away. Then he “had a friend” buy me a new one. I’d been touched by his sincerity at the time. “Mom,” Ruby suddenly tugged my sleeve, her childish voice clear, “that lady’s necklace is the same as yours!” My gaze mechanically moved to Rose’s neck. A rose gold chain with a delicate airplane pendant, the wings set with tiny diamonds. It was a custom fifth wedding anniversary gift I’d commissioned from a designer, with our initials engraved inside. “It really is.” I heard my own dry voice. Rose’s smile finally froze for a moment, but quickly recovered: “How could it be? My husband had this custom-made just for me. He said it has great meaning—like him flying me around the world.” Jett had said the same thing to me at our fifth anniversary dinner. He said once Ruby was older, he’d take us around the world. That night he put this necklace on me, saying it was one of a kind, just like our love. The day the necklace went missing, Jett turned the whole house upside down. Finally he held me and said, “Out with the old, in with the new. I’ll get you an even better one.” A month later, a more ornate necklace with bigger diamonds appeared in my jewelry box, supposedly custom-made by a friend. Paid for with my money, of course. Taking my things to give to his mistress, then using my money to buy replacements for me. My stomach churned. “Are you feeling unwell?” Rose finally noticed my condition. “A bit airsick.” I forced a smile and accepted water from a flight attendant. The warm water slid down my throat as I forced my voice steady: “How long have you and your husband been married?”

Rose froze, then a flash of awkwardness crossed her face. “We’re not married yet.” Perhaps catching the shock that flickered across my face, she quickly added: “Don’t rush to look down on me, but he and his wife have no feelings for each other!” My fingers gripping the water cup suddenly tightened, knuckles turning white. “He said his family pressured him back then, and that woman saw his status and forced herself on his family.” Rose pursed her lips, her eyes showing contempt. “He said that woman is incredibly boring. Every day with her is torture, painful as hell. If he hadn’t met me, he wouldn’t know how to endure it.” As she spoke, her face showed deep sympathy for Jett, as if he were the biggest victim in this twisted relationship. Listening to her words, a storm raged inside me. Forced herself on him? Jett, you dare say I forced myself on you?! I still remember the first time I brought him home—he wore a faded white shirt and stood awkwardly in my family’s living room. His family was poor, his parents ordinary workers. He worked desperately hard to get into aviation college. After graduation, he spent years grinding away at airport ground services before finally mixing his way into a low-level flight engineer assistant position. If he hadn’t used his halfway decent face to persistently chase me, could he have the success he has today? Seeing his wasted talent, I begged my father to use his connections to pave the way for him, all the way to the captain’s position. Feeling sorry for his humble background, I never let him want for anything materially, giving him a life he’d never dared dream of before. When his father fell seriously ill, I used every medical resource available, hired the best specialists, and paid all the medical bills. My parents were dead set against me marrying him, saying our family backgrounds were too different, incompatible. I was the one blinded by so-called “love,” threatening to die if I couldn’t marry him, until my parents reluctantly agreed. After that, they constantly helped his career for my happiness. And I’d always thought he was hardworking and ambitious, felt sorry for how hard he worked. Turns out in his mouth, all my efforts became forcing myself on him and pressuring him. A huge sense of absurdity and nausea welled up inside me. I really was lovesick back then, completely blind! Rose hadn’t noticed my churning emotions at all and continued her defense: “It’s true—the one who isn’t loved is the real mistress. So what if his wife has the title? She doesn’t understand him at all, doesn’t deserve him. Jett said once he finds the right opportunity, he’ll confront her about divorce.” My heart felt like an invisible hand was squeezing it tight, the pain almost suffocating. I took a deep breath, using all my strength to maintain surface calm: “How long have you been together?” Rose’s face immediately bloomed with a sweet smile: “Next month on the fifth, it’ll be exactly four years!” Next month, the fifth… My brain buzzed, going completely blank. Four years ago on that day was when I gave birth to Ruby! That day my labor started early. I was rushed to the hospital and endured seven or eight hours of agony before giving birth to our daughter. Throughout the entire process, Jett wasn’t by my side. When I emerged from the delivery room, exhausted, I only saw my anxious parents. He didn’t show up until much later, running in drenched in sweat. Said he went to buy the pastries I’d been craving, but the line was too long and he got delayed. Though I felt hurt, seeing his guilty, distressed face as he held me, my heart softened immediately. I even comforted him instead. I even stopped my parents from scolding him. Turns out while I struggled at death’s door, he was sweetly confirming his relationship with another woman. Makes sense—what pastries take that long to buy? Looking at Rose’s smug face, my voice turned ice cold: “Does his wife know you exist?” Rose raised her eyebrows proudly, her tone contemptuous: “That stupid woman? How could she know? Jett keeps her completely in the dark. She probably still thinks her marriage is happy.” She sneered, as if telling a huge joke. “Though it’d be better if she knew. If she has any sense, she’ll get lost on her own, save Jett the trouble.” “Stupid woman.” “Get lost on her own.” These words were like poisoned daggers, stabbing viciously into my heart. I couldn’t take it anymore. I suddenly stood up and threw the remaining warm water in my hand right in her face.

“Ah—! Are you crazy?!” Rose’s scream shattered the cabin’s quiet. She sprang from her seat, her carefully applied makeup running down her face, eyeliner smeared everywhere, looking both disheveled and vicious. Ruby was frightened by this sudden turn of events and burst into tears with a loud “wah,” hugging my leg tightly. I immediately pulled my daughter behind me, coldly watching this hysterical woman. “You crazy bitch! What are you doing!” Rose wiped her face with her sleeve while cursing, completely losing her previous elegant demeanor. Flight attendants quickly arrived: “Ma’am, what happened? Please stay calm.” “Calm? Didn’t you see this crazy woman throw water at me?” Rose pointed at my nose, shaking with rage. One attendant tried to calm Rose while another turned to me: “Ma’am, can you explain the situation?” Before I could speak, Rose broke free from the attendant’s restraint and lunged at me with claws out: “Looks like you’re just like that old hag—your husband doesn’t love you either! I hit a nerve!” “Slap!” Without hesitation, I raised my hand and delivered a resounding slap across her face. The cabin fell instantly silent, even Ruby’s crying paused for a moment. Rose clutched her face, staring in disbelief, then erupted in even more hysterical screaming: “You dare hit me? Do you know who my husband is? He’s the captain of this plane! He’s the son of the airline’s chairman—you’re finished!” She turned to the attendants, ordering: “Go get the captain right now. Let him see how his wife is being bullied!” The attendant looked troubled: “Ma’am, the captain can’t leave the cockpit during flight. It’s regulation.” “Stop the nonsense. If you don’t go, I’ll file a complaint. Right now!” Rose was practically roaring. The attendant hesitated, then walked toward the cockpit. Several minutes later, she returned with a complicated expression. “Captain Jett says… he’s handling flight operations and can’t leave the cockpit. He asked me to relay that he hopes all passengers remain calm, and everything will be resolved after landing.” Rose was clearly unsatisfied with this response. Just as she was about to erupt, the cabin PA suddenly crackled: “Ladies and gentlemen, I apologize for the interruption. We’ve received reports that a passenger in business class has seriously disrupted order and attacked others, causing harm to my wife. My wife specially boarded this flight today to accompany me, yet encountered such unpleasantness. I cannot ignore the wrong she’s suffered. Security personnel, please immediately restrain the troublemaker to ensure the safety of other passengers and my wife. Please trust that we will handle this properly and ensure flight safety.” After the announcement ended, every eye in the cabin focused on me. Those gazes were full of contempt, condemnation, and the excitement of watching drama unfold. “So she started the trouble…” “Looks so respectable, how could she act like this…” “The poor captain’s wife, encountering this on her own husband’s flight…” Whispers came from all directions. Ruby cowered in my arms, asking softly, “Mom, why did Dad say that?” A chill rose in my heart. Two security officers soon arrived at our seats: “Ma’am, please cooperate with us to understand the situation.” Rose immediately jumped in: “This woman hit me for no reason! My husband just said she’s emotionally unstable. Arrest her quickly!” An older flight attendant quietly advised me: “Ma’am, I think you should apologize to this lady. Her husband isn’t just the captain—he’s also the chairman’s son and very powerful in the company. Making this bigger won’t be good for you.” I could hardly believe my ears: “The chairman’s son? How come I don’t know the chairman has a son?”

I certainly didn’t know my dad had any children besides me. Rose sneered: “What would you know? My husband is Chairman Alex’s illegitimate son, only recently acknowledged. A commoner like you naturally wouldn’t know.” She turned to the security officers, imperious: “You! Arrest this woman immediately and hand her over to police after landing!” The security officer looked at me helplessly: “Ma’am, if you won’t apologize, we may really need to ask you to move to the isolation seats in the back.” “I’ve done nothing wrong. Why should I apologize?” I said coldly. “If anything, this lady should apologize for publicly insulting others.” The attendant, seeing I wouldn’t yield, had to contact the cockpit again. This time the reply came quickly: “Captain’s orders—to ensure flight safety, security personnel should immediately remove the disruptive passenger from business class. Use force if necessary.” The security officer sighed and made a “please” gesture: “Ma’am, please cooperate.” The surrounding passengers’ gazes grew even more piercing. Rose lifted her chin triumphantly, her expression seeming to say: See? This is what you get for crossing me. I looked around at those uninformed passengers, at the troubled crew members, at my daughter trembling in my arms. An unprecedented rage burned in my chest. Jett, you not only betrayed our marriage, but now you’re using your authority to openly favor your mistress, even twisting facts to slander me? Fine. Very fine. I gently wiped the tears from Ruby’s face, softly comforting her: “Don’t be afraid. Mommy will protect you.” Then I raised my head, looking straight into the security officer’s eyes, my voice clear and firm: “Let’s go.” Holding my daughter’s hand, I followed the security officer toward the isolation seats at the back of the cabin. Ruby looked up, her big eyes brimming with tears, sobbing softly: “Mom, does Dad not love us anymore? Why is he helping that lady?” My heart clenched painfully. I crouched down to meet her eyes, gently wiping her tears with my thumb: “Baby, Daddy made a mistake. Mommy will handle it. Remember, no matter what happens, Mommy will always love you.” Ruby pressed close to me, her small hand never letting go of my clothes. Looking at the city growing larger outside the window, my resolve grew stronger. Jett, you must pay for your betrayal and shamelessness. The plane finally landed and taxied. When the cabin door opened, two ground police officers were already waiting at the jet bridge. Under everyone’s gaze, Ruby and I were escorted off the plane, accompanied by the officers to the airport police duty room. Ruby was frightened but bravely didn’t cry aloud, just tightly holding my hand. The duty room lights were cold and white. We’d barely sat down when a familiar voice came from outside. Rose was acting coquettish: “Jett, you have to help me. That crazy woman was horrible. My face still hurts!” “Alright, alright, don’t be angry. Now that we’re here, I’ll definitely get you justice. She’s just a troublemaking passenger—very simple to handle.” The door was pushed open. Jett walked in first, wearing his crisp captain’s uniform: “Officer, where’s the troublemaker?” I spoke coldly: “Right here! Captain Jett.” I slowly stood up, calmly meeting Jett’s gradually widening pupils.

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The first time I discovered Milena cheating was in our marital home. Young and hot-headed, I demanded a divorce on the spot. She cried and said she was drunk and mistook him for someone else, kneeling before me and begging for forgiveness. “If you want a divorce, I’ll jump from the 10th floor right now.” That one sentence made me soften for five years. During those five years, she was gentle and considerate toward me, as if the affair had never happened. But on my mother-in-law’s sixtieth birthday, she suddenly asked Milena. “Milena, where’s my grandson? Why didn’t he come?” I froze, thinking she was confused, and hurried to answer with a smile. “Mom, you forgot—Milena still has two months until her due date.” My mother-in-law calmly glanced at me and murmured under her breath. “Oh, so you still don’t know.” My heart tightened. I instinctively looked at Milena. She calmly set down her teacup and said: “Actually, I have a son. He’s five years old.” The shrimp in my hand instantly dropped to the floor. My brain buzzed. My vision blurred. “What?” My lips trembled as I asked instinctively. “Five years ago, that night with John, I got pregnant.” Milena didn’t hide anything. When she said this, she even seemed relieved. “It’s good that you know. I’ve been exhausted hiding this for five years.” I felt helpless and looked at my mother-in-law. “Mom, stop joking around with Milena. It’s your birthday. You’re both messing with me, right?” But my mother-in-law just calmly took a sip of tea. She said nothing in response to my question. My heart sank. Milena continued, “I’m not joking. When I found out I was pregnant, the doctor said that aborting the child would be bad for my body.” “There was a high chance I’d never get pregnant again.” She placed her hand on her swollen belly. Inside was my child, already eight months along, close to the due date. “Jeff, you should be grateful I didn’t abort him.” “Otherwise, we’d never have children of our own in this lifetime.” No matter how much I wanted to disbelieve, Milena and my mother-in-law’s attitudes made it clear they weren’t lying. No wonder she went on that six-month business trip back then. Every day she video-called to check in with me, but it was actually to give birth to someone else’s child. For the next five years, she went on business trips for a week every month—actually to spend time with John and their son. And I actually believed it all. I forced a bitter smile, my eyes stinging. “Weren’t you hiding it well? Why tell me today?” Before Milena could speak, my mother-in-law slammed her forks on the table, her tone agitated. “Because I wanted to see my grandson!” She took a deep breath and spoke to me earnestly. “Jeff, I’ve been good to you, haven’t I? I know you’re a good kid, but my grandson has been hiding for five years. It breaks my heart.” My hanging fingers clenched sharply. My pupils trembled. So everyone knew about this—everyone except me. My mother-in-law took out a document from the safe. The contract listed assets totaling ten million dollars. “Jeff, we won’t shortchange you. All you need to do is accept this child. You don’t need to worry about anything else.” “Milena promised me she won’t have any more contact with John…” Before my mother-in-law could finish, Milena interrupted her. “If you can’t accept this, we can get divorced.” She pulled a divorce agreement from her bag. The signature was already filled in. I stared at the paper as if I wanted to bore a hole through it. Five years ago, I had mentioned divorce. It was Milena who begged desperately, even threatening suicide. Just when I’d finally let go of my resentment. She told me she wanted a divorce. The atmosphere grew silent, with only the sound of the clock ticking, until the door was pushed open. A crisp voice rang out. “Mom, I brought Mark to celebrate your birthday…” John walked in holding the hand of a five-year-old child. When he saw me, the smile on his face instantly froze, replaced by hesitation. “Mr. Jeff…”

The moment Milena’s mother saw Mark, her face lit up with a smile. She scooped up the little boy. “Mark’s here! Come over here.” I sat in my seat, motionless. Before, I hadn’t really looked at John’s face. Milena had protected him very well. Now they were one happy family—and the most absurd part was that Milena was still carrying my child. “Milena, is this the explanation you promised me?” “Did you have fun lying to me for five years?” Everyone present turned pale. John protectively held the child, looking tense. “I can take the humiliation, but not my son. He’s also Milena’s biological child.” “He’s also Mother’s grandson. If you won’t let the child in the door, then Mark will act like he never had a mother!” His words were firm and forceful, as if I were the one oppressing him. John threw down these words and left with the child. Milena jumped to her feet, suppressing the discomfort in her belly, and chased after them. Milena’s mother glared at me fiercely and threw the agreement in my face. “Jeff, is ten million enough to buy your future?” “The child must enter our family. You’re not allowed to interfere.” Watching their retreating figures, I felt dazed. I crouched down and picked up the agreement from the floor. Besides the enormous compensation, there was only one requirement. I had to play dumb and deaf, and not interfere in matters between Milena and John. My chest tightened. I tore the document to pieces. I never imagined Milena would hide this from me for five agonizing years. It was the third month after Milena and I got married. I had just returned from a business trip. When I walked through the door, I saw the whole house in disarray. Torn clothes, underwear, and mysterious stains on the carpet. Milena and a strange man lay naked in the bed I shared with my wife. Seeing this scene, I couldn’t accept reality. Milena wrapped herself in the sheets, stumbled over, and knelt while clutching my leg, her voice trembling with pleading. “Jeff, believe me, I was drunk and mistook him for you.” “I didn’t mean to. I really didn’t.” She was incoherent, hands clasped together, explaining to me over and over. “I’ll never drink again. As long as you don’t divorce me, I’ll agree to anything.” This incident also reached her mother. That day, her mother slapped her more than ten times. Her mother bent over, head lowered, apologizing to me. “Jeff, she only made one mistake. She still loves you.” At that time, I didn’t want to hear anything. I only wanted to divorce her. When Milena saw I still hadn’t changed my mind. She climbed onto the window ledge, ready to jump. “If you divorce me, I’ll jump from here.” “Without you, I won’t live anyway!” Those words made me soften. I couldn’t watch her hurt herself in front of me. So I pulled her down from the ledge. “We won’t divorce. But there won’t be a second time.” After that incident, the knot in my heart hadn’t completely dissolved. To make it up to me, she brought everything good before me. The house, the car, company shares—everything she had. Even my friends envied me. “Jeff, what good deed did you do in your past life to marry a wife like this?” As time passed, people around us got married and divorced one after another. They started betting on how many more years Milena and I would stay together. Later, she told me that because of company business, she needed to stay abroad for a year. We video-called every day. She knew I felt insecure, so she even made time to come back and see me. She always told me not to give up my career because of her. I really wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. But I never imagined that her talk of being busy, her business trips— It was all to give birth to someone else’s child. Only I was stupid enough to believe it for five years. Tears blurred my vision. I wiped the corner of my eyes. Looking at the divorce agreement on the table with Milena’s signature already on it. I silently put it away. If that’s how it is, then I’ll grant them their wish.

Milena and her mother still brought John and his son back. Milena’s mother protected her precious grandson. “As long as I’m here, Mark is my grandson. I won’t let anyone bully him.” Her gaze kept glancing at me, full of vigilance. Hearing this, a trace of smugness flashed in Mark’s eyes. Gone was his earlier unease. He puffed out his chest. “Mr. Jeff, don’t worry, I won’t take your place.” “I just hope my son can stay by his mother’s side instead of bearing the stigma of being illegitimate.” I pulled at the corner of my mouth with a mocking smile. “That stigma isn’t unfair. No matter what, it won’t change.” Mark’s face went pale. Then he looked at Milena with a wounded expression. Milena frowned. “Jeff, where are your manners?” Her cold words made my heart tremble. My hands hanging at my sides clenched powerlessly, then loosened. My voice was hoarse. “Five years ago, I said there wouldn’t be a second time…” Milena squeezed her son’s palm and answered carelessly. “Didn’t I already give you the divorce agreement? I agreed to divorce. I’m not stopping you.” “But you seem to have forgotten I’m still carrying your child.” Her hand rested on her swollen belly. “Jeff, I just want to bring Mark back. He’s only a five-year-old child. He can’t live without his mother.” “Can you not be so petty? Besides, wouldn’t it be good for our child to have an older brother?” She didn’t seem to think she’d done anything wrong. Her nonchalant words shattered the last hope in my heart. Before I could say anything else, she told me. “Mom and I have discussed it. We’re planning to hold a banquet next week.” “To have Mark acknowledge you as his father. That way, people won’t gossip anymore.” I suppressed the sadness in my heart. I never expected she’d already thought of this. “I won’t agree.” Milena laughed coldly. “Fine. Then I’ll go to the hospital right now for an induced abortion.” I looked up sharply and roared. “Are you insane?! The baby’s not even eight months yet!” Milena’s expression was calm, but her words were brutally cruel. “I’m the child’s mother. I have that right. Once born, it’s a child. Before birth, it’s just a lump of flesh.” “Think carefully—either let Mark acknowledge you as his father, or I go to the hospital for an induced abortion.” After dropping these words, Milena left with John and his son. For a long stretch of time, we had no contact. She didn’t come home either. Perhaps because everything was out in the open now, Milena’s rarely-updated social media started posting frequently. Mostly photos of her with John and his son. Even the captions were suggestive, as if they were the real family of three. After friends saw her posts, they called one after another to ask. “Jeff, who is that person? That child looks so much like her, could it be…” “And who’s that man?” Faced with my friends’ questions, I had no mood to answer. Only those who knew about the incident five years ago advised me. “Are you and Milena having relationship problems? I told you five years ago you shouldn’t have forgiven her.” “If there’s a first time, there will be countless more.” I smiled bitterly. What everyone else could see clearly. Only I was this stupid.

A week passed quickly. The banquet to bring Mark home was held on a grand scale. Almost everyone who mattered in our circle came. Milena held my arm, lowering her voice to warn me. “You should have thought it through these past few days. Don’t cause any trouble.” I said nothing and didn’t look at her. Not until the five-year-old boy came forward, grabbed my hand, and called me “Dad” in front of everyone. Only then did I speak. “I’m not your father. And I won’t acknowledge you as my son.” My words instantly caused an uproar. People looked at each other, suddenly understanding something. The looks they gave Milena were full of mockery. Milena lost face. Her expression shifted between pale and flushed. She gripped my wrist. “What do you mean?” “If you don’t acknowledge Mark today, I’ll go to the hospital right now!” Her attitude was resolute. I couldn’t imagine that as a mother, she could say such things. She knew how hard it had been to conceive this child. Drinking bitter medicine, getting shots to prevent miscarriage. Now, for the sake of an illegitimate child, she’d throw it all away just like that. “I won’t raise another man’s son.” John in the distance instantly looked aggrieved. At that moment, the previously silent hall’s screen suddenly lit up. The large screen began displaying intimate photos of Milena and John in bed. The photos were timestamped from five years ago. The scene instantly became chaotic. Milena also froze in place, staring blankly at the screen. John immediately pointed at my nose, his face flushed red. “Jeff! I know you have a problem with me, but how can you show these kinds of photos at an event like this!” “Yes, five years ago was all my fault. Milena was drunk and mistook me for you.” “But what does that have to do with now? No matter how dissatisfied you are, you can’t deny that Mark is Milena’s biological son.” John’s words made everything clear to everyone. “So it’s an illegitimate child. I wondered why it felt so strange.” “Well, they put on quite a show for us.” Suppressed laughter spread. Milena frantically had someone turn off the screen and slapped me hard across the face. The metallic taste of blood spread in my mouth. I felt dazed. I looked up into Milena’s hate-filled gaze. She was so angry her chest heaved violently. She clutched her aching belly, her face twisted in pain. Seeing this, Milena’s mother immediately called emergency services. When they arrived at the hospital, Milena’s face was deathly pale. Just as the doctor was about to administer the injection to prevent miscarriage, Milena suddenly spoke. “Help me induce labor. I don’t want this child anymore.” My head buzzed. “I didn’t upload those photos!” Milena pulled at the corner of her mouth. “Whether it was you or not, Jeff, I just want to teach you a lesson so you’ll never dare bully them again.” Thinking of the child, I still lowered my head and pleaded. “I was wrong. I shouldn’t have done that. The child is innocent. It’s a life…” But no matter how I begged, it was useless. Milena still went into the operating room. The induced baby came out as a stillborn. It was a daughter who never got to open her eyes to see the world. I covered my face, crying and laughing, and placed the divorce agreement in her bag. Carrying my dead daughter, I left. Looking back five years ago led me into the abyss. This time, I won’t look back again.

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On my wedding day, my own sister locked me in a bathroom. The scholarship student I’d mentored, seeing my fiancée standing alone and humiliated at the altar, heroically stepped up to marry her in my place. My sister, Sarah, was so moved that she immediately declared him her adoptive brother, allowing him to fulfill the marriage alliance with the Vance family on my behalf. My now ex-fiancée, Luna, later said to me, “Asher, you cured my legs. I love and respect you for that. But I’m legally married to Leo now. From now on, you can be my boyfriend, and he’ll be my husband. We can all be just like we were before, okay?” I slapped her across the face. What she didn’t know was that her recovery wasn’t complete. Without the final support brace I designed, her legs would fail in seven days, and she would be paralyzed again. And as for my treacherous sister? She’d clearly never seen our parents’ will. What made her so certain the company was hers to control? … I clawed my way out of that bathroom, a complete wreck, only to see Luna Vance holding Leo’s hand, the two of them gliding through the reception hall, graciously accepting toasts from the guests. “Welcome, everyone, to my wedding to the heir of the Blackwood family,” Luna announced from the stage, her voice ringing with false joy. “This day marks a new era of partnership between the Vance and Blackwood corporations.” She was clever, deliberately blurring Leo’s identity, letting the crowd assume the man beside her was still me, Asher Blackwood. The hall erupted in applause. Then, Luna’s eyes caught sight of me standing in the doorway, soaked and disheveled. Her smile faltered, and her face hardened. She shot me a look, a silent, venomous command not to ruin her moment. Leo followed her gaze, his face lighting up with a sickeningly feigned delight. He rushed over to me. “Asher! You made it!” he exclaimed, his voice dripping with false sincerity. “Perfect timing. Come on, have a drink with us. It’s a double celebration!” Before the ceremony, my sister, Sarah, had pulled me aside, claiming it was an emergency. She’d led me into a bathroom stall and, in a moment of distraction, bolted the door from the outside. A minute later, a bucket of vile, stinking water cascaded over the top, drenching me. My bespoke suit, now ruined, clung to me, soaked through with the stench of fermented filth. The catering staff pinched their noses as I passed, their disgust poorly hidden. Sarah rushed toward me, trying to drag me out of sight. “Ash, whatever it is, can it wait? Don’t make a scene—” The moment she touched me, I snapped. I swung my arm and struck her hard across the cheek. SLAP. Sarah stumbled back, her hand flying to her face, a red welt already blooming on her skin. “Asher… you hit me?” she whispered, her eyes wide with disbelief. A cold, mocking smile twisted my lips. I didn’t offer an explanation. I just raised my hand to strike her again. But before my hand could fall, it was caught in an iron grip. Luna stood before me, her face a mask of fury. “Asher, that’s enough! First, you abandon me at the altar and make me a laughingstock, and now you’re hitting your own sister?” Looking at the woman I had loved since childhood, a wave of hurt and betrayal washed over me. I opened my mouth to tell her everything, to explain the locked door, the filth, the humiliation. But before I could speak, Leo dropped to his knees in front of me with a dramatic thud. “Brother, if you’re going to blame someone, blame me!” he cried, his voice thick with phony anguish. “I couldn’t bear to see Luna standing up there alone, being whispered about by everyone.” “I only did it to repay your kindness, to save the merger between our families!” he sobbed, his head bowed. “Now that you’re back… I won’t even ask you why you ran out on your own wedding.” His words were poison wrapped in pity. He painted himself the hero while branding me a coward who’d fled his own marriage. Sarah, biting her lip, grabbed my arm and dragged me away from the stage. “Ash, do you have any idea what you’ve done?” she hissed, her voice low and menacing. “If the Vance deal falls through, it will be your fault. You’ll be the one who destroyed everything!” I stared at her face, twisted with a rage I’d never seen before, and my heart turned to stone. When our parents died in that crash, she was just ten years old. I was the one who stood between her and the vultures—the shareholders, our own relatives—who wanted to tear the company apart. I protected her. She used to look at me with such adoration. Now, her eyes held nothing but hatred. “Why can’t you ever think of me?” she pleaded, her voice cracking. “Leo is a better match for the Vances than you are! Why can’t you just let her go?” I ripped my arm from her grasp and turned my gaze back to the stage, to the woman I was supposed to marry. “Luna,” I asked, my voice dangerously calm. “Is he really your choice?” Luna’s eyes met mine, then flickered to Leo, a storm of indecision brewing within them. But that flicker of hesitation was all it took. It was a shard of ice in my heart. After her accident, when the world had given up on her, I was the only one who didn’t. I pulled her from the abyss and poured everything I had—my time, my fortune—into getting her back on her feet. I handed over the day-to-day operations of the company to Sarah, assembled a world-class medical team, and practically lived in my research lab. A year of sleepless nights and relentless work finally led to a breakthrough: a new material, a new procedure. I, along with the nation’s top surgeon, put her back on her feet. And now, less than a month after she walked again, she was hesitating between me and him. A bitter smile touched my lips. I had no use for a love that wasn’t absolute. Suddenly, Leo grabbed my arm, his face a mask of crocodile tears. “Brother, don’t worry. Even though Luna and I are legally married, I’ll give her back to you!” He then pulled a marriage certificate from his jacket, tore it to shreds, and scattered the pieces like bitter confetti. Luna gasped and rushed to embrace him, her voice firm and resolute. “Leo, we are married. You are my husband now. Nothing and no one can change that!” She turned to me, her eyes red and blazing with anger. “Asher, are you happy now? Are you trying to drive him to his death?” Before I could answer, a wine glass shattered at my feet, spraying shards across the floor. A sharp pain shot through my ankle as a piece of glass sliced my skin, drawing blood. Luna didn’t even glance down. Her voice grew colder, laced with impatience. “All those years I was stuck in that hospital bed, where were you? You were always busy, buried in your damned lab, impossible to reach.” “It was Leo,” she said, her voice softening as she looked at him. “Leo was the one who stayed by my side, day and night. He wasn’t disgusted by my helplessness. He cleaned me, he cared for me. Where were you then, Asher?” She looked back at me, her eyes hard as diamonds. “Fate has made its choice. I’m his wife now. My husband is Leo, and only Leo!” My soaked clothes felt like a second skin of ice, the chill seeping deep into my bones. She had forgotten. She had forgotten who I was buried in that lab for. Sarah stepped in, pushing me back. “Brother, stop it. You’re only making things worse for yourself.” Her eyes were cold, calculating. “There’s only one way to fix this. You need to gift your hospital and your entire medical research team to Leo. A wedding present. Then I’m sure Luna will forgive you for abandoning the wedding, and we can officially welcome Leo into our family as my brother.” I stared at her, my voice dropping to a frigid whisper. “Our parents only had one son. I have no idea who this ‘sister’ is you’re talking about.” I left them there amidst the wreckage of my wedding. That night, I posted a single, clear message on all my social media accounts: my engagement to Luna Vance was over. I didn’t expect to find her on my doorstep the next morning, looking haggard and worn, with a sullen Leo trailing behind her. She was holding a bouquet of red roses, and the moment she saw me, her bloodshot eyes lit up. “Don’t be like this, Ash. A night has passed. Surely you’re not still angry?” she said, attempting a playful smile. “I know you love me. We’re not breaking up.” My eyes drifted to the fresh, purple hickey on Leo’s neck. A humorless laugh escaped my lips. “You slept with him, and we’re not breaking up? What am I supposed to be, your side piece?” “Don’t be so crude,” Luna frowned. “Leo is my husband. You are my boyfriend. We can be just like we were before. What’s wrong with that?” I stared at her as if she’d grown a second head. I was seriously beginning to suspect her accident had damaged her brain, not just her legs. My stunned silence must have given her the wrong impression, because a flicker of triumph crossed her face, as if she believed my love for her was so absolute I would accept any terms. Leo, gnashing his teeth behind a fake smile, reached out to touch my sleeve. I instinctively pulled away. I barely moved, but he recoiled dramatically, stumbling backward as if I’d shoved him with all my might. Luna, reaching out to steady him, was pulled off balance. They both went down in a heap on my porch. Suddenly, Luna cried out, her hands clutching her stomach, her face contorted in agony. She looked at Leo, her voice a panicked shriek. “The baby! Our baby!”

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My husband implanted an embryo—his and his first love’s—inside me. I pretended not to know. For twenty-five years, I meticulously raised their son. The day our son secured the company shares and officially became the CEO of the Keane Corporation, my husband wheeled his first love, Serena, onto the stage at the press conference. “Veronica,” he announced, “Flynn is my and Serena’s child. You’ve had him for twenty-five years. It’s time to give him back to her.” I offered a cryptic smile. “Of course. But I’m afraid my son might not agree.” 1 “Veronica, how can you do this to Flynn? He’s so young, and you’re making him do so much homework!” My sister-in-law, Serena, swept a crying Flynn into her arms, cooing and comforting him. “There, there, Flynn, don’t cry. Mommy is the worst, isn’t she? Making us write so much when we’re just little boys.” She tossed his pen aside and took his hand, her voice soft and maternal. “How about Auntie Serena takes you outside to dig for crickets?” The mention of digging for crickets in the backyard instantly transformed Flynn’s tears into a smile. He threw his arms around Serena’s neck, then glanced back at me, a flicker of fear in his eyes. Serena’s husband, my husband’s younger brother, had died in a car accident. She had lost both her legs saving my husband, losing the ability to ever become a mother. As a result, she poured all her maternal affection onto Flynn. Outsiders praised her for her nobility, for staying a “widow” for a decade, for respecting her in-laws and doting on her nephew. Despite being in a wheelchair, she insisted on taking him to and from school every day, never missing one, even in the heaviest snow. Once, the snow was so deep her wheelchair tipped over, and she cut her forehead. That evening, she was still there at the school gate, a bandage on her brow. She personally cooked his meals, picked out his clothes, and was on call for everything from getting him a glass of water to playing with him. Her rationale was always the same: since she couldn’t have children of her own, Flynn was her son, and she would depend on him to care for her in her old age. The truth was, Flynn was her son. Hers and my husband’s. I never exposed her. I let her lavish all her motherly love on him. It worked out for me; I was swamped with company matters and couldn’t be there for him all the time. A child needs companionship. But I never slacked on his education. I brought him to events, cultivating his perspective and instilling a proper worldview. I was afraid he’d pick up her underhanded, classless ways. Seeing Serena wheel Flynn out of the living room, I strode over and pulled my son back. “Serena, you can’t indulge him like this. He’ll grow up lazy and spoiled.” She shot me an annoyed look. “He’s just taking a little break. You’re making a mountain out of a molehill, Veronica.” She stroked Flynn’s face lovingly. “Our Flynn is going to be the CEO of both the Keane and Kent corporations one day. He’s not some poor kid from the slums. Even if he doesn’t learn a thing, he’ll have people waiting on him hand and foot.” She turned her wheelchair and reached for Flynn again. I scoffed. Such a small-minded, short-sighted view of the world. I didn’t waste my breath arguing. I pulled Flynn back toward his desk. On paper, at least, he was my son, and I would not compromise on his education. The sudden pull sent Serena tumbling from her wheelchair. She let out a pained cry, clutching her head as she hit the floor. When she looked up at me, a flash of pure hatred crossed her eyes. A panicked voice boomed from the doorway. “What happened? Why are you on the floor?” A tall, lean figure strode in and swept Serena into his arms. It was my husband, James. Serena’s expression immediately shifted to one of pure anguish, tears streaming down her face. “James, I was just taking Flynn out to play for a bit, to let him relax. He’s been doing homework for over an hour.” “Veronica said I was spoiling him, and then she just… she just…” She buried her face in my husband’s arm and sobbed. James’s face darkened. He turned on me, his voice sharp with anger. “Veronica, you’re a workaholic, a powerhouse, that’s fine. But can you please stop torturing my son?” “He’s only eight years old! Stop trying to mold him into some kind of robot with your twisted ideology.” 2 I watched James coolly, this man I had chosen for a husband. His ambition and abilities were average, but he was handsome enough, and his family background was a good match. In families like ours, marriage is less about love and more about strategic alliance. I never had deep feelings for James. I certainly couldn’t be like the women on the outside, all gentle and considerate, worshipping him with stars in their eyes. Years ago, as the second son, James was at a disadvantage in the Keane family power struggles. He couldn’t compete with his older brother, who was already entrenched in the company, nor could he match the cloying obedience of his illegitimate younger half-brother. Pursuing me was his best move. The Kent and Keane families were the titans of their respective regions. As the sole heiress to the Kent fortune, I held absolute power. At the time, our families were negotiating a five-year renewable energy partnership. James showered me with affection, deferring to me in all things. I, on the other hand, was in a pique of defiance after a falling out with someone else, and I impulsively agreed to marry him. My expression was icy as I met his gaze. “Flynn is the heir to both Keane and Kent. Do you really think letting him do whatever he wants is what’s best for him?” “If he develops the habits of a spoiled brat, aren’t you afraid he’ll squander everything our ancestors built?” James hesitated, glancing at his tear-streaked son. Before he could speak, Serena piped up, her voice fragile. “Veronica, you’re being too dramatic. Is he going to become a degenerate just by skipping a little homework?” “Flynn is only eight. You can’t just see him as a financial asset and rob him of his childhood.” She looked up at James, her eyes pleading. “Don’t you agree, James?” He looked down at Serena and smiled tenderly. He gently placed her back in her wheelchair, then scooped up our son. “Veronica,” he lectured, “you should learn from Serena. Learn how to be a gentle woman, a good mother. Stop being so obsessed with money. You have no warmth.” I let out a cold laugh. Looking at the picture-perfect family of three, I couldn’t resist twisting the knife. “James, Flynn is my son. I don’t think his education is any business of an outsider.” I shot a provocative glance at Serena. James’s face contorted in anger. He quickly looked at Serena, then back at me. “Veronica, how can you say something so cruel? Serena is my savior. My son is her son.” “I’m warning you, as long as I am in this house, Serena is part of this family. If you ever call her an outsider again, don’t blame me for what happens.” He pushed the wheelchair, and the three of them strode out of the house. A moment later, I heard the sound of happy laughter from the yard. I stood on the second-floor balcony, watching my son perched joyfully on James’s shoulders, watching Serena’s look of utter contentment, and I sighed. It was my own youthful willfulness that led to this, to someone’s child being separated from them. With James’s backing, Serena became even more brazen. She started making household decisions without even consulting me. Watching them on the security cameras, flirting and exchanging loaded glances, I could only feel a sense of pity. She had ruined her own life for James. I wondered if one day, she would regret it. When it came to our son’s upbringing, they could handle his daily life, his playtime. But on the important matters, the matters of character and future, I never relaxed my grip. Every evening, unless it was an absolutely essential business dinner, I delegated to my VP and stayed home to read with my son, to tell him stories. Every school break, I took him to visit the world’s top universities, to let him witness the wonders of academia. I spent a fortune to have him mentored by an Ivy League professor in business administration. Though my son disliked my strictness, as he grew older and his horizons broadened, he began to enjoy discussing life with me, sharing his own fantastic ideas. Whenever we were away for a couple of weeks, Serena would bombard him with calls, nagging him to wear more clothes or not to eat strange food. Seeing the slight frown on my son’s face, I once asked him with a faint smile, “Flynn, do you think I’ve been too strict with you? Not as gentle and caring as your aunt?” 3 Flynn thought for a moment. “Mom,” he said, “don’t you think a sapling has to be kept straight from the beginning to grow tall and strong?” “I’m a man. I need to absorb as much knowledge as possible so I can contribute to society, like the great people who came before me. That’s a life of value.” I patted his shoulder. As expected of a top expert’s son. Genetics truly are a marvel. Under our combined, albeit conflicting, styles of parenting, Flynn grew into a cheerful, outgoing, and diligent young man. He was a standout among his peers. At eighteen, he was accepted into MIT. His grandfather, the patriarch of the Keane family, had high hopes for him and gifted him twenty percent of the company’s shares. To put that in perspective, my brother-in-law’s own children had received nothing, and he himself only held twenty percent. Over the past eighteen years, with the financial backing of my company, the Kent Corporation, James had solidified his position in the Keane family business, surpassing his older brother. The old man rubber-stamped every one of James’s decisions, knowing that I was behind him. Even if James made a mistake, I would cover it with my own money. The top executives at Kent had long since tacitly pledged their allegiance to James, leaving his brother a figurehead with no real power. Three years later, Flynn returned from his studies abroad. That day, I showed him a four-hour video, a compilation of all the sordid, dramatic secrets of our wealthy family. Flynn was silent for a long time. Finally, he said, “Mom, what do you want to do?” I asked him calmly, “You’ve been with them for twenty years. If we make a move, can you bear to do it?” He considered it. “Mom, I know what to do. If he has a conscience, I’ll know how to proceed.” I patted his shoulder, a gratified smile on my face. My son was a man now. In some ways, his ideas and abilities had already surpassed my own. I trusted he wouldn’t disappoint me. Following my plan, Flynn quickly started an internship at the Keane Corporation. With the support of his father and grandfather, he managed to make the company’s stock price jump three times in just two years. The old man was clearly thinking of bypassing his own son and handing the company directly to his grandson. A few days before Flynn’s twenty-fifth birthday, we held a family meeting. I announced my intention to transfer all my shares to Flynn, making him the CEO of the Kent Corporation while I retired to the background. I was a woman who had fought in the corporate world for over two decades. I was tired. A flicker of delight crossed James’s face. I subtly glanced at Serena, sitting in the corner. A raised eyebrow, a mouth struggling to suppress a grin, eyes blazing with ecstatic joy. Old Mr. Keane tapped his cane, deep in thought. If Flynn took over Kent, he couldn’t generate profits for Keane. The two companies weren’t one entity. He didn’t want his grandson’s talents benefiting another family. With a little prompting from me, he finally understood. The Kent and Keane corporations would merge into one, with Keane as the dominant name. The new entity would be called the Flynn Group, with our son as its CEO. The Flynn Group would become the undisputed titan of the city. The old man was ecstatic. The Keane name would remain, and his own grandson would be at the helm. The Kent name would be erased. The Keane dynasty would be unshakable. It was, in essence, a complete absorption of my company. James’s older brother protested, but I quickly bought out his shares at a premium. I didn’t want any loose ends. Under pressure from his father, he knew he couldn’t win and stormed off with his money. As for James’s younger half-brother, Serena, acting as his representative, naturally gave her full support. She even made a noble speech: “My dear Nathan is gone, and I have no children of my own. I’ve always thought of Flynn as my son. I’ll depend on him in my old age. All of Nathan’s assets will go to him.” 4 The plan was set. On Flynn’s twenty-fifth birthday, we would hold a press conference to announce the merger and his appointment as the new CEO. The day was a media circus. The city’s elite, business magnates, and socialites were all there. The air buzzed with envy and congratulations. The Flynn Group was the new pinnacle, the partner everyone wanted. With lawyers as witnesses and the unanimous support of the board, my son walked onto the stage. He signed the share transfer agreement and delivered his inaugural speech. The applause was deafening. The crowd was electric. Just as his speech ended, James wheeled a lavishly dressed Serena onto the stage. With James’s help, she stood up shakily and threw her arms around Flynn. “My son,” she cried, her voice thick with emotion. “You’re finally a man. I no longer have to be forced to be separated from my own flesh and blood.” She pulled out a twenty-year-old paternity test report and, in front of all the cameras, shoved it at me. “Veronica Kent, you were jealous of James’s love for me. You couldn’t stand to see me happy, so you orchestrated a car accident that killed my husband, Nathan, and crippled me. Then, you stole my son.” I watched her cold-eyed as she spouted her lies. I knew she had no shame, but I never imagined she could be this audacious, twisting facts so brazenly in broad daylight. I was surprised lightning didn’t strike her dead on the spot. The crowd stared, stunned, their eyes darting between me, James, and Flynn. A murmur rippled through the room. “What’s going on?” “Flynn isn’t Veronica’s son?” “She forced her sister-in-law to give up her child?” “But if he’s not her son, doesn’t that mean all her years of raising him were for nothing?” “Wait, she just gave him the entire Kent Corporation. If he’s not her son, she’s lost everything!” James spoke, his voice filled with regret. “Veronica, I know you were devastated when you delivered a stillborn baby. That’s why you clung to the belief that Flynn was yours. For all these years, for the sake of your mental health, Serena has endured the pain of being separated from her child. Now that Flynn is grown, it’s time he knew who his real mother is.” I stared at him, at his self-righteous performance. It’s true what they say: birds of a feather flock together. He could spin such lies without batting an eye. My gaze swept to old Mr. Keane. He coughed and turned away, avoiding my eyes. In that instant, I understood. They all knew. James’s great deception had been a family affair. That explained why Serena had remained “unmarried” in the Keane household for so many years without anyone objecting. They had all been stringing me along, making me raise a child and build an empire for them. What a masterful, ruthless plan. If I hadn’t been so vigilant all those years ago, I really would have ended up with nothing, thrown out on the street for them to torment. Under the shocked gazes of the crowd, I smiled faintly at my son. “Flynn, what do you think? Do you want to acknowledge your birth mother and cast me out? Or will you remember the years I raised you and continue to treat me as your mother?”

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Eight months into my pregnancy, my husband sent me to the manor of the Lord Regent. He did it because the Regent, Lord Cassian Thorne, had specifically asked for me. “Everyone knows the Regent is a monster,” the servants whispered. “If the Lady goes, she’ll never come back alive.” My husband paid them no mind. Instead, he brazenly brought his mistress, whom he’d kept hidden on the outskirts of the city, into our home. “Don’t blame me for being cruel, Elara,” he said, his face a cold mask. “It was a direct command from the Lord Regent. No one dares to defy him.” Then, right in front of me, he promised his mistress my title. I didn’t cry. I didn’t protest. I simply climbed into the carriage that would take me away. Because in my last life, when I had threatened to kill myself to stop him, my husband sent his pregnant mistress in my place. Within a fortnight, she was tortured to death. My husband hid his grief, waiting until the day I gave birth. Then, he took our newborn son and smashed him to a pulp on the floor. When I tried to stop him, he drove a dagger into my heart. “This,” he had snarled, “is what you owe Dahlia.” But this time, I would give him exactly what he wanted. “Did you hear? The Lord Regent demanded that our Lord send his own wife to… attend to him, in exchange for ending the inquiry against him at court.” “But Lord Thorne is a notoriously cruel man! They say no woman who enters his manor ever comes out alive. It’s a death sentence!” “I know. And our Lord agreed. In three days, he’s sending her. Poor Lady Elara, she’s always been so kind to us. And with a child on the way… Such a tragic fate.” The window was open, and the servants’ gossip drifted in clearly. My handmaiden, Luna, was weeping, her eyes red and swollen as she brushed my hair. “My lady, please, you must beg Lord Alistair! You two have always been so devoted. Surely he wouldn’t send you to that monster’s den!” “Oh, you sweet, foolish girl,” I said, my gaze distant. “Begging is useless.” He is more than willing. The entire city spoke of the great love between Lord Alistair Croft and me. They thought our marriage was a perfect union. In my previous life, when the Regent’s summons first arrived, Alistair had been shocked. But to save himself from ruin at court, he had reluctantly agreed. It was I who had knelt and wept, threatening my own life to stop him. So Alistair had made a substitution. He sent his mistress, Dahlia, to the Regent’s bed instead. But within two weeks, she was dead, her body returned bearing the marks of unspeakable torture. Alistair had her buried quietly and told me to focus on my pregnancy. He was so gentle, so caring. Then, on the day our son was born, he revealed his true face. He murdered our child and then drove a blade into my heart. Only then did I understand the depths of his deception. He had loved that mistress with a desperate, all-consuming passion. So yesterday, when the Regent’s messenger arrived and named me specifically, and Alistair agreed without a moment’s hesitation, I knew. He had been reborn, just like me. And this time, he would protect Dahlia at any cost. He would send me to my death. “The master has returned!” The familiar sound of his footsteps echoed in the hall, followed by his cold, hard voice. “Where is your lady? Tell her to come out and meet Dahlia.” A wave of shock rippled through the household staff. Luna rushed back to my chambers, her face pale with panic. “My lady, he’s brought a woman back with him! And she’s… she’s…” “She’s pregnant,” I finished for her. Luna stared at me, dumbfounded. “My lady, how did you know?” In my last life, Alistair, coveting my family’s immense wealth, hadn’t dared to send me away so openly. He had played the part of the doting husband, swearing his undying love with tears in his eyes. To keep me and my fortune, he had brought his hidden mistress to me. “Elara, my love,” he’d said, “this is a servant girl I purchased. She, like you, is with child. The Regent has never seen you. He won’t know the difference.” He had gambled on a clever deception, sending Dahlia to the Regent’s manor while begging the Regent to spare his “wife’s” life. But his plan had failed. She had died anyway. Only on my deathbed did he finally confess the truth: the child Dahlia had carried was his. I smiled faintly at the memory and shook my head. “Luna, you should stop calling me ‘my lady.’ The woman outside is Alistair’s new wife.” “Go and pack our things. In three days, we will be leaving this place for good.” The words had barely left my lips when Alistair kicked the door open. “Elara, you have some nerve,” he sneered. “Too proud to answer a servant’s summons? Do you think because you’re about to become the Regent’s plaything, I have no power over you?” I ignored him, but the woman behind him, Dahlia, immediately fell to her knees, her face a mask of artful sorrow. “My lord, please don’t be angry,” she whimpered. “Lady Elara comes from the House of Valerius, one of the wealthiest merchant families in the kingdom. It’s only natural that she would look down on a poor orphan like me. I should have come to pay my respects to her, not the other way around.” Before her knees could touch the floor, Alistair swept her up into a protective embrace. “Dahlia, my love, you must not kneel,” he murmured, his eyes filled with a tenderness he never showed me. “You are with child. You owe her no courtesies.” He then turned his cold gaze on me. “Besides, in three days, Elara will be in the Regent’s manor. You will be the true lady of this house.” At his words, I stood and picked up a small, black lacquered box. Alistair instinctively shielded Dahlia. “What are you doing?” I smiled. “Why, I’m handing over the household to its future mistress, of course.” I opened the box, revealing the keys to every room and the household ledgers. Under their astonished gazes, I held it out to Dahlia. “Take it.” Dahlia hesitated, her hand reaching out. But Alistair slapped the box from my grasp. The keys and ledgers scattered across the floor with a loud clatter. “Elara, who knows what poison you’ve smeared on it?” he spat, his eyes filled with disgust. “You’re being sent to a eunuch’s bed in three days. You think I believe you’d be this calm? Don’t think I don’t know what you’re plotting.” He glared at me. “You want to harm Dahlia, don’t you? You wish she were the one going to die in your place!” I couldn’t help but shake my head. He was just as foolish as he was in our last life. Who said that being sent to the Lord Regent’s bed was a guaranteed death sentence? My silence seemed to unnerve him. His expression shifted. “Elara, don’t think me heartless,” he said, his tone softening into a parody of reason. “Lord Thorne himself asked for you. No one in the kingdom dares to cross him. But if you go quietly, and solve this problem for me… when you return, I might be generous enough to allow you to stay on as my concubine.” “There’s no need,” I said, cutting him off. I nudged the scattered ledgers with my foot. “Since you don’t trust me, have a servant gather them for her.” Dahlia was installed in the main wing of the house. Alistair announced to the entire staff that any disrespect shown to the “Lady Dahlia” would be punished with fifty lashes and immediate dismissal. Luna was telling me this as I sat embroidering a gown, a wedding gown. Seeing my calm composure, she burst into tears of frustration. “My lady, how can you let that woman bully you like this? When Lord Alistair came to your family to ask for your hand, he swore a sacred oath to never take another woman, or be struck down by the heavens!” “He betrayed you…” I shook my head, a weary sigh escaping my lips. “What’s the point in arguing with a man like that? Are our things packed?” Luna wiped her tears. “They are, my lady. But… all this packing, and now you’re sewing a wedding gown… it’s as if you’re planning on staying at the Regent’s manor.” My hand stilled. This sweet, simple girl. She, too, thought I was going to my death. Before I could speak, a cup of cold tea was thrown in my face. The icy liquid streamed down my cheeks, soaking the delicate silk of the gown in my lap. “Oh, my deepest apologies, sister,” Dahlia cooed, though her voice was laced with triumphant malice. “My hand slipped. I’ve ruined your beautiful gown.” She stood there, her swollen belly pushed forward, her chin tilted in an arrogant sneer. “But it is strange, isn’t it? Being sent to serve a eunuch, and yet you’re sewing a wedding dress as if it were a real marriage. Aren’t you afraid of becoming a laughingstock?” Luna stamped her foot in fury. “You go too far!” “Luna, stand down.” Dahlia, seeing my passivity, grew even bolder. She assumed I was a condemned woman, too afraid to fight back. Her eyes, filled with cruel amusement, fell to my own rounded stomach. “Sister, I’ve heard the Regent is exceptionally brutal. I fear by tomorrow night, that child of yours will be no more…” she said, her voice dripping with false pity. “It truly is a shame.” The gown was ruined. I tossed it aside. “You needn’t trouble yourself with my affairs.” I turned to leave, but she grabbed my arm. “Elara, what do you think my lord would do to you if something… were to happen to me?” A wicked smile spread across her face, and then she threw herself backward, toward the ornamental pond in the courtyard. At that exact moment, the sound of Alistair’s approaching footsteps echoed from the colonnade. “Ah, help me!” she screamed as she hit the water. Alistair’s face contorted in panic. He dove into the pond without a second’s thought and pulled her out. “My love, don’t blame her,” Dahlia sobbed, clinging to him. “She’s just jealous that I’m carrying your child, jealous that I will be the one by your side forever. It was just a moment of weakness…” Her feigned innocence fueled his rage. A sharp, stinging slap cracked across my face. “You wretched bitch!” Alistair roared. “It was you who seduced the Regent in the first place, and now you’re trying to murder Dahlia and my unborn child out of jealousy?” On my final day, Alistair, in his fury, had me locked in the woodshed. “Without my command, she is not to have a single drop of water!” Luna knelt outside, begging and crying. “My lord, you can’t do this to her! She is eight months pregnant! Even if she can endure it, your own son cannot!” Alistair didn’t hear a word. Dahlia, however, who had supposedly suffered a terrible fall, was perfectly fine. She marched over and slapped Luna hard across the face. “Insolent slave! I am the lady of this house!” she shrieked. “Elara is nothing but a whore being sent to serve a eunuch! That bastard in her belly is probably from some stable boy she seduced!” Luna, utterly enraged, tried to lunge at her, but Dahlia’s servants held her back. “You truly are a loyal dog,” Dahlia sneered. “Too bad your mistress won’t live to see the day after tomorrow.” Luna kept vigil outside the woodshed all night. The next day, when the Regent’s carriage arrived, Alistair finally unlocked the door. “Drink this,” he commanded. A servant brought forward a bowl of dark, steaming liquid. “It’s a tonic to protect the child. Drink it, and then go and serve the Lord Regent well.” I smiled a cold, humorless smile. He gripped my chin, his voice softening with a false tenderness. “Elara, you and I were once deeply in love. If you manage to survive this, I will grant you and the child a place in my home.” He forced the bowl closer. “This is the finest tonic. It will protect our child.” I lowered my eyes and took the bowl. He thought I didn’t know. It wasn’t a tonic. It was an abortifacient. The night he brought Dahlia home, I had overheard her whisper to him. “Since Elara only has a few days left to live, there’s no reason to keep her child.” Alistair had hesitated. “But…” Dahlia had wrapped her arms around his neck, her voice a seductive purr. “My love, you still have my child, don’t you? You promised me that my son would be raised as your legitimate heir.” In the end, Alistair had agreed. And still, I drank the poison without hesitation. My child, I thought, a silent apology in my heart, forgive your mother. You were simply born at the wrong time. Alistair smiled, satisfied. “Servants, prepare the lady. Dress her and see her to the carriage.” The Regent’s attendant had been waiting for a long time. When he saw me emerge in my red wedding gown, his eyes widened, and he bowed respectfully. “My lady, please, this way.” As I turned to leave, Alistair grabbed my sleeve. “Elara,” he whispered, a slow, triumphant smile spreading across his face. “I’ll be waiting to collect your corpse.” “Go and die peacefully in the Regent’s bed. It is your fate. And the Valerius fortune, all those businesses and properties… they will all be mine.” After a long moment, I smiled back. “Perhaps you’ll be disappointed.” The moment I turned away, my smile vanished. My hand clenched around the document hidden in my sleeve: a writ of divorce. Dahlia had come to me a few days prior, gloating. “Elara, did you really think he loved you? He only married you for your family’s fortune. He would have divorced you years ago otherwise. One night, when he was drunk at our villa, I coaxed him into it. He wrote this writ of divorce with a single stroke of his pen.” She had dangled the document in front of me, her face alight with victory. “You can’t even hold onto your husband’s heart. You truly are a failure.” But all I had felt was an immense, overwhelming relief. I was even a little grateful to her. As the carriage pulled away from the Croft estate, I lifted the curtain. I watched Alistair and Dahlia, standing together, shrink into the distance. A slow smile spread across my face. The real performance was just beginning. Halfway to the Regent’s manor, a dull ache started in my belly. Soon, it sharpened into an agonizing pain. The poison was working. I knew exactly what Alistair had planned. A man’s pride could not stomach his wife being defiled by another man, even a eunuch, even the all-powerful Lord Regent. He knew that at eight months, any complication with the pregnancy would mean certain death for both me and the child. He wanted me to die on the road, an unfortunate accident. But I would not give him the satisfaction. “Luna,” I gasped, sweat beading on my forehead. “The child… it’s lost. Help me… help me get it out.” Luna’s face went white with terror. “My lady, you’re mad!” “Hurry! There’s no time!”

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One second I was accepting an award in Milan, the next I was hooded and shoved onto a private jet. I woke at the Thorne estate. Mr. Silas Thorne was cheerfully playing chess with my grandfather. “It’s time we settled that marriage pact between your grandson and my granddaughter,” he said. While they negotiated, I slipped into the garden. Seeing a perfect rose, I reached for it—but a kick sent me stumbling down, my back burning. “Who’s this charity case touching my rose? The one Miss Thorne planted for me!” snarled a man surrounded by bodyguards. Before I could speak, he punched my face, leaving a bruise. “And now he’s stealing the engagement ring she made for me? Take it and teach him a lesson!” As the guards closed in, he smirked. “Time to clean up the riff-raff as the future Thorne son-in-law.” I glanced at the family heirloom ring on my finger, then texted my contact “Fiancée”: Isabelle Thorne, there’s a rabid dog in your garden. Are you handling this or not? 1 To my surprise, the message was immediately met with a red exclamation point. I let out a dry, humorless laugh. We hadn’t even finalized the engagement, and she’d already blocked me. “How did you sneak in here! Give Mr. Everton back his property this instant!” a housekeeper shrieked, lunging at me. I sidestepped her easily. “I am an honored guest of the Thorne family,” I said, my voice dangerously calm. “Is this how you treat your guests?” The man, Blake Everton, sneered and pulled out his own phone to call Isabelle Thorne—my supposed fiancée. A cool, melodious voice answered on the first ring. “What is it, Blake?” I listened closely. A nice voice. My type. Grandfather had good taste, at least. “Isabelle! There’s some pretty boy in your garden claiming to be a guest, and he stole the ring you gave me!” I cut through his whiny, dramatic tone, deciding to introduce myself before she got the wrong idea. “Miss Thorne, my name is Julian Moritz. I’m your fiancé.” There was a two-second pause as she processed the name. When she spoke again, her voice was glacial. “What fiancé? You need an invitation to enter the Thorne estate. Otherwise, you’ll be dealt with as a trespasser.” Then, her tone melted back into syrupy sweetness. “Blake, don’t be upset. It’s just a ring. I’ll buy you a new one when I get back.” My ring, a custom piece by a legendary French master, was my parents’ engagement ring. There wasn’t another one like it in the world. As I began to seriously question the wisdom of this alliance, Blake Everton doubled over with laughter. He raked his eyes over me with contempt. “You? Your clothes don’t even have a label, you piece of trash! And you have the nerve to call yourself Isabelle’s fiancé? That’s the funniest thing I’ve ever heard!” I had studied design abroad. The clothes I was wearing were my own creations, hence the lack of a brand name. My designs were already sought after by Europe’s elite, but this peacock couldn’t even recognize them. It made me question his credentials. The encounter had soured my mood. I turned to leave the garden. Blake blocked my path. “Didn’t you hear Isabelle? You need an invitation. You claim to be an honored guest, so where is it?” I rolled my eyes and reached into my pocket, but found nothing. I vaguely remembered my grandfather saying we wouldn’t need one. Seeing my empty hand, his smirk widened. “A liar, just as I thought! Men! Get the ring off him, tie him up, and throw him out!” I shielded the ring with my hand and took a step back, my expression hardening. A few of the maids approached me, their faces full of pity. “Sir, you should just give it back to Mr. Everton. You have no idea what he’s capable of.” “That’s right, that ring is a symbol of their love! They grew up together. Miss Thorne won’t let you get away with this.” “I saw it with my own eyes… a man just got a little dirt on Mr. Everton’s suit, and the next day, he’d lost a hand!” Their warnings only fueled Blake’s arrogance. “You hear that? Get on your knees, place the ring respectfully in my hand, and then get the hell out of here. Otherwise, you’ll end up just like the man who dirtied my suit.” 2 In my entire life, people had only ever kneeled to me. The last person who dared to speak to me like that was six feet under. I stepped forward and drove my fist into his face. His head snapped to the side, his eyes wide with disbelief. “You dare hit me?!” He clutched his cheek and screamed at his bodyguards, who immediately rushed me. A slow, cold smile spread across my lips. When I first went abroad, my grandfather, fearing I would be bullied, had personally taught me combat. A few untrained bodyguards were nothing. With a series of precise strikes, I sent them spinning, dazed and confused. “Pathetic.” I flexed my slightly numb knuckles and turned to leave, ignoring Blake’s enraged shrieks. Suddenly, a maid cried out, “Miss Thorne is back!” I looked up. A woman in a couture gown was striding toward us, her face a mask of cold fury. Blake’s vicious expression vanished, replaced by one of a wounded puppy. He grabbed Isabelle’s hand. “Isabelle! You’re finally back! I was being bullied so badly!” I had to admit, Isabelle Thorne was stunning. She could have easily made a name for herself in Hollywood. It was a shame, then, that even knowing she was engaged to me, she was cupping her childhood sweetheart’s face with such tender concern. I scoffed. I needed to get Grandfather and go home. This marriage was dead on arrival. I ignored their little drama and headed for the garden exit. “Hold it. You think you can just walk away after touching my man?” Isabelle didn’t even look at me. She gestured, and two of her bodyguards moved to block my path. I let out a long, weary sigh and turned to face her. “Miss Thorne, my grandfather is currently in your grandfather’s study discussing our engagement. If they find out about this, it won’t look good for you, will it?” At the mention of her grandfather, the maids’ expressions shifted. “What? Is he really her fiancé?” “Who cares? Look how protective she is of Mr. Everton. This marriage is probably off anyway.” “Exactly. We’d better not say the wrong thing and offend Mr. Everton. You know what he’s like.” The word “engagement” only seemed to darken Isabelle’s mood. “What marriage pact? I never agreed to it. Besides, my grandfather adores me. He would never force me to marry some broke nobody from god-knows-where.” Blake shot me a triumphant look over her shoulder. “Isabelle and I are soulmates. How dare a common thief dream of taking my place?” I nodded slowly. A perfect match of trash. They deserved each other. It’s just, my grandfather had told me that of all the families who had sought an alliance with ours, the Thornes had put in the most effort. I’d met Silas Thorne a few times; he was a good man. I could only imagine the storm that would erupt when he found out his own granddaughter had sabotaged the marriage he’d worked so hard to secure. But you can’t help it when a fine bamboo stalk produces a rotten shoot. 3 I shook my head in pity and was about to leave when Blake shouted, “Don’t let him go! The ring Isabelle gave me is still on his hand!” At a signal from Isabelle, the bodyguards seized me. They tried to wrench the ring off, but it was custom-fitted to my finger. They couldn’t budge it. “Blake, if this is your ring, why does it fit my finger so perfectly?” I taunted. His face flushed with anger. “It’s because you’re fatter than me! You forced it on, that’s why it’s stuck!” he spat. “Get an electric saw!” My expression changed. This was bad. I hadn’t brought my own security. Isabelle’s bodyguards were huge and numerous. I fought back, but they quickly exploited an opening and slammed me to the ground. Blake squatted in front of me, his eyes gleaming with excitement. He grabbed my chin. “Still acting tough? Weren’t you so tough a minute ago?” He slapped me hard across the face, the grit from the path scraping my cheek and drawing blood. Isabelle stared at me for a moment, then a cruel smile touched her lips. “Did that hurt your hand, Blake? Want to see something more fun?” His eyes lit up. “Tie him to the boat in the middle of the pond!” My own eyes widened in horror. I looked at her face, which was now glowing with a sick excitement. Did she know something? “No! You’ll regret this!” Blake laughed, a manic edge to his voice. “Regret? That word isn’t in my vocabulary. But you? You’re about to regret ever touching what’s mine.” The guards dragged me to the large pond in the center of the garden and threw me into a decrepit, rocking rowboat, tying me down with thick ropes. Before I could even open my eyes, they flipped me onto my stomach and brought an electric saw buzzing toward my hand. A scream tore from my throat as searing pain shot up my arm. The ring was instantly slick with my blood. “Looks like another one who didn’t know his place is about to lose his life.” “Such a handsome young man, too. If only he hadn’t been so stubborn. Miss Thorne will never let him go now. He’ll lose a finger, at least.” “This is too cruel. I can’t watch.” The maids and servants chattered on the edge of the pond, but their voices were already fading into a dull roar. I thrashed against the ropes, the old boat groaning and slapping against the water. The scene was sickeningly similar to the day my parents were lost at sea. A deep-seated terror clawed its way out from the depths of my mind. My face went deathly pale. My hands clamped over my head of their own accord, my own blood smearing down my cheeks. “No! Please! Let me up!” But Blake and Isabelle just stood on the bank, watching the show. Blake even kicked the boat, sending me drifting toward the center of the pond. Through a blur of pain and fear, I saw him smugly holding up my ring. Isabelle wrapped her arms around him. “It’s covered in that trash’s filthy blood,” she cooed. “Throw it away. I’ll buy you a new one.” Over my desperate screams, they casually tossed the ring into the water. “Isabelle Thorne! Aren’t you afraid of what my grandfather will do to you?!” 4 She just laughed, her eyes full of contempt, as if she were looking at garbage. “Your grandfather? Who does he think he is? The Moritz family is nothing but you and that old man now! You cursed your own parents to death, and he actually wants me to marry a jinx like you? He must be dreaming!” My world narrowed to a single point of pain. Cursed your own parents to death. The words were a knife, twisting in my heart. On my eighth birthday, my parents were on a cruise, sailing home to celebrate with me. A storm blew in, and the captain urged them to wait it out at port. But I had called them, crying, telling them I missed them. So they took a smaller boat themselves, trying to make it back in time. Just as they were nearing the shore, a monstrous wave, five meters high, rose from the sea and crashed down upon them. Their boat capsized right in front of my eyes. The memory, dragged up by Isabelle’s words, played over and over in my mind. I curled into a ball in the bottom of the boat, trembling, mumbling the same words again and again. “Dad… Mom… I’m sorry. I don’t want you to come back for my birthday anymore…” Blake clapped his hands in delight. “So he really is bad luck! No wonder he feels so cursed! Isabelle, we should stay away from him before we catch his bad luck!” No one abroad knew about my past. At home, Grandfather had forbidden anyone from ever mentioning it, even going so far as to have the lake on our own estate filled in, just so I wouldn’t have to see it. The guilt and grief had been buried for years, but now it erupted, and all I wanted was to throw myself into the water and atone for what I’d done. Suddenly, my phone rang. The custom ringtone I had set for my grandfather. A flicker of clarity cut through the fog in my mind. The Moritz family was just me and him now. He had lost his son and daughter-in-law. His pain was no less than mine. If I left him, too… I couldn’t bear to think of it. I took a shuddering breath, fighting the suicidal impulse, and struggled to reach my phone. But Blake saw. He had his men start throwing rocks at me. My body, already weak from the resurfacing trauma, was trembling uncontrollably. A rock hit my hand, and the phone skittered away, falling into the water. It flickered twice and went dark. The rocks also punched two large holes in the old boat. Icy water seeped in, chilling me to the bone. “Julian Moritz, didn’t you want to join your parents? I’m giving you the chance! You should be thanking me!” Isabelle said, her arms crossed as she watched me sink. “And as for your grandfather, that old geezer, when he gets here, I’ll make sure your whole family has a reunion at the bottom of this pond!” I struggled weakly, but it was no use. Grandfather… I’m sorry… Just as the water closed over my nose, a familiar, heavy tread echoed from behind them. An ebony cane swung through the air. “I’d like to see who’s sending my family to its reunion!”

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I’m the kind of girl who crawled out of the gutter, damp and shadowed, yet somehow I landed Kian Wilde, the king of campus. Four months into our relationship, Kian’s beautiful first love, Sienna, transferred to our university just for him. During gym class, they were at it again, openly flirting for everyone to see. Sienna shot me a triumphant, challenging look from the corner of her eye. Students from several classes were pointing at me, whispering, waiting for the punchline. My face went pale. I shrank into a corner, head down, playing dead. But as soon as class was over, I shoved Kian into an empty classroom, slammed him against the door, and kissed him with a desperate, frantic hunger. “Next time you get that close to her,” I hissed against his lips, “I’ll kiss you senseless right out in the open.” 1 Kian’s lips were slightly swollen from where I’d bitten them. He frowned. “Maya, can you stop talking about kissing me senseless all the time?” “Besides,” he added, his voice tight with frustration, “I’ve already explained this. Our families are old friends. If Sienna talks to me, am I supposed to just ignore her?” That was his way of saying he wasn’t going to change. My anger flared hotter. I lunged at him again, my right hand snaking under his t-shirt, my fingers tracing the hard lines of his abs. A laugh, half anger and half amusement, escaped him. “Damn it,” he swore, pushing me away. “You’re insane. I’ve seen people cash in on a favor, but never this desperately.” —This relationship was me cashing in on a favor. A little over four months ago, Kian was nearly hit by a modified street bike on his way back to Aurelia University. I happened to be walking behind him and shoved him out of the way at the last second. Afterward, he thanked me and asked if there was anything he could do. “Can you be my boyfriend for a year?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. Kian raised an eyebrow. He was the undisputed king of AU—tall, handsome, arrogant, and rich. Countless beautiful girls had thrown themselves at him, and not a single one had succeeded. And me? I was just another ordinary girl, the kind you see everywhere on campus, the kind who always keeps her head down. When he didn’t answer, I quickly lowered my offer. “Six months is fine, too. If that bike had hit you, you might have been laid up for that long anyway, right?” He finally let out a sharp sigh. “Fine. Six months it is, my life-saver.” He had no idea. The entire thing was a trap I had designed just for him. The guy on the bike? I’d paid him with a year’s worth of my part-time job savings. And as the anchoring effect suggests, people are more likely to accept a lesser offer after being presented with a higher one. —All I ever wanted was six months. Outside, his basketball teammates were yelling for him to come to practice. I still held onto him, refusing to let go. “You and Sienna crossed a line. You have to make it up to me. Tonight, you have to do whatever I want, however I want to play.” He looked utterly exasperated. “I know, I know,” he said, trying to pry my fingers off the door handle. “Tonight, you can play all you want. Happy now, you little psycho?” 2 The sun was still bright when I finished my work-study shift at the library. My mind buzzed with excitement for tonight. I decided to head to the basketball court and wait for Kian so we could walk back together. “Maya Stone.” A voice called my name. I turned, surprised to see Neil Vance, the university’s other campus prince. I didn’t know him at all. Why was he talking to me? He walked up to me, a warm, gentle smile on his face. “We haven’t had a chance to talk since the chess tournament. This Friday night, the club is having a friendly match. I was wondering if you’d be interested in coming?” Oh, it was about the chess thing. The only reason I’d entered that tournament was for the $5,000 champion’s prize. A friendly match had no prize money. I looked down at my shoes, trying to think of a polite way to refuse. Neil added with another smile, “I was very impressed by you during the tournament. I was hoping I could take this opportunity to officially become your friend?” “Your friend?” I blushed, looking up at him. Because of my withdrawn, strange personality and my status as a scholarship student, I was something of a pariah at AU. I hadn’t made a single friend in three years. And now, a god-like figure like Neil Vance wanted to be my friend. “Yes,” he said, his eyes softening as he seemed to notice my awkwardness. “A beautiful girl like Sienna is wonderful, of course, but a girl like you, Maya, is brilliant in her own right. You deserve to be appreciated, too. That’s what I believe.” My face burned hotter. What did he mean by that? It felt like he was implying something. “O-Okay,” I stammered. “I’ll be there on Friday.” His eyes lit up. “That’s great! Friday at seven, at the club room. I’ll be there waiting for you. I’ll see you the day after tomorrow.” “See you then.” I stood there for a moment, stunned by the unexpected kindness. Then, as he walked away, I silently began to follow him. 3 I rounded a corner and, just as I expected, heard a group of excited voices. “Neil, you’re amazing! She took the bait!” “She just got lucky in that chess tournament! Total fluke she won.” “Last time, that video of her soaked and exposed only went viral on the campus network. This Friday, I’m going to livestream it and make it ten times worse! I’ll make sure all the research institutes and companies see it. She’ll never get a decent job in her life!” “That’s enough,” Neil’s voice cut in, cold and sharp. “Just get everything ready. I don’t want any mistakes on Friday. Don’t give her any chance to recover.” … Their footsteps faded into the distance. I stood alone in the cool evening breeze, a little disappointed. A story about the aloof student council president falling for me after a single competition was always too much like a cheesy drama. And to think, I’d actually wasted time worrying if it was too soon to move on to Neil when I only had a month left with Kian. So, the video of me in a white shirt, soaked by two buckets of water, had been his doing all along. But a livestream on Friday, huh? “What are you doing standing here?” A familiar, magnetic voice came from behind me. I spun around, a placating smile already on my face. “A student left their headphones in the library. I was just trying to catch up to her.” Kian frowned, his gaze flickering toward the distant figures of Neil’s group. “Let’s go,” he said, turning away. I quickly trotted over and took his hand, my fingers lacing through his. He tried to pull away but failed. “It’s a hot day. Aren’t you worried about sweating?” he grumbled. “Nope. I like you. I even like the way you smell when you sweat.” It was the kind of over-the-top flattery I always laid on him. He gave me a look of disgust but let me hold his hand. 4 We had already eaten on the way, so as soon as we got back to the apartment, Kian went straight for the shower. When he came out, he had nothing on but a towel wrapped low around his hips. He was six-foot-two, all broad shoulders and narrow waist, with sharply defined muscles. Droplets of water traced the V-lines of his hips before disappearing beneath the white towel. I swallowed hard and immediately ducked into the bathroom myself. After a quick shower, my hair still half-damp, I eagerly climbed onto his lap where he sat on the sofa. I kissed him like an addict getting a fix. Kian tilted his head back, letting me have my way, but his hands were just resting lightly on my back. I’d heard that when a man truly desires a woman, he wants to breathe in her scent, to pull her into himself until there’s no space left between them. Kian never had that kind of impulse with me. But that was normal. He was only with me out of obligation. And then there were the scars crisscrossing my body—burns from cigarettes, welts from a belt, rope burns, cuts from a box cutter… No one would ever desire a body like mine. But it didn’t matter. As long as I desired his body, as long as he still responded to my touch, that was enough. And in that department, Kian never disappointed. “Little psycho,” he murmured, his voice husky. “Weren’t you going to play with me? C’mon, show me what you’ve got, hmm?” … 5 The next day, our classes were in different buildings. After we walked through the school gates, I stopped him. “Kiss me before you go.” He gave me a look that clearly said you’re insane. “Since when do you enjoy being a public spectacle?” I didn’t care. Today, I wanted the perfect college romance experience. To be kissed by the most handsome boyfriend in the world, in the gentle morning breeze, with the most adoring affection. It didn’t matter if the last part was just my imagination. In my memories, it would all be real. I held onto his hand, refusing to let go. With a sigh, Kian relented. He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to my forehead. I heard the gasps from the students around us and saw Sienna, waiting a short distance away, throw her coffee cup to the ground in a fit of rage. “Kian, I love you,” I whispered, then turned and walked away, my heart soaring. I was in a fantastic mood all day. Even when, between classes, someone deliberately mentioned that Kian and Sienna had sat together. Even when someone else brought up that video of me, their eyes raking over my body with a disgusting leer. Even when another person “accidentally” spilled half their milk tea on my desk. Just like always, I kept my head down and silently wiped my drenched books, page by page. A girl came over with tissues to help me. It was the same girl who had spoken up for me back in freshman year when they had accused me of stealing an earring. I held up a hand to stop her. “It’s okay. I’ll do it.” If she got too close to me, she would become unlucky too. I was fine on my own. I didn’t like dragging others down with me. After my last class, I went to my part-time job at the McDonald’s near campus. Tutoring was a more popular and lucrative option for AU students, but every time I found a gig, the parents would receive an anonymous message about my “bad character.” So, McDonald’s it was. At 9 PM, my shift ended. As usual, I used my phone to order a meal, made it myself, and placed it in front of the little girl with the dirty face who was, once again, spending the night in the restaurant with her mother, scavenging for leftovers. Then I shouldered my backpack, found a public restroom, and changed into a black hoodie and sweatpants. I pulled on a black mask and work gloves, tugged the brim of my cap down low, and melted into the night, heading back towards the university. 6 Three hundred meters from the north gate of AU, there was a short, secluded alley. It was quiet during the day and practically deserted at night. Only students who rented apartments in that direction would use it as a shortcut. In a pile of trash at the end of the alley, I found the baseball bat I had stashed earlier. I hid in the shadows of a corner and waited. About fifteen minutes later, footsteps approached. The streetlight at the entrance stretched the person’s shadow longer and longer until it was swallowed by the darkness of the alley. My hand began to tremble uncontrollably. My heart hammered against my ribs. The moment the shadow was completely consumed, I swung the bat. “Ah! Who the hell hit me?!” “Agh, stop… stop hitting me…” “Damn it! If you want money, just take it! I’ll give you money…” Neil fell to the concrete ground with a scream. I gave him no chance to fight back. The bat rained down on the high and mighty student council president. He went from cursing, to negotiating, to finally just whimpering and begging for mercy. At last, I stopped. I stood over him, looking down at his pathetic, sobbing form with disgust. If this were Kian, he wouldn’t have made a sound, even with every rib broken. It would be nice if a video of Neil like this was posted online. Let him know what it feels like to be unable to hold your head up in public. I took a deep breath and quickly left the alley. I took a long, roundabout route, ditching the bat in a park trash can. I crossed two more streets, found another place to change back into my original clothes, and stuffed the hoodie, sweatpants, gloves, and hat into my backpack. I’d done this kind of thing long ago. It was all calm, practiced, routine. I had even tried to teach those two animals who gave birth to me a lesson like this. Though I’d only been beaten more severely for it afterward. Once everything was taken care of, I took a deep breath and forced a smile onto my face. Then I headed back to Kian’s apartment. 7 When I walked in, Kian was sitting at the dining table, scrolling through his phone. He looked up at the sound of the door. “Your shift ends at nine. What took you so long tonight?” I gave him a sweet smile. “We got a huge group order right at closing time. Probably some boss treating his overworked employees.” “Is that so?” He stared at me for a long moment, then shifted slightly, revealing a small cake on the table. “Bought this after the game. It’s from that place you like, right?” My eyes lit up. I kicked off my shoes and immediately launched myself at him, planting a kiss on his cheek. “Kian, you’re not just the most handsome boyfriend in the world, you’re the best!” “Don’t touch me until you’ve showered,” he said, pushing my face away with a look of disdain. I didn’t mind his attitude at all. I happily put down my backpack and started on the cake. It wasn’t expensive, just a simple cream square. When I was a kid, I’d always see other children eating them and wonder what they tasted like. After I got my college entrance exam scores, the first thing I bought with the small scholarship money was a cream square. I’ve loved the cloyingly sweet taste ever since. Kian watched me eat for a bit. “Is it really that good?” I nodded earnestly. “It’s good on its own, but because you bought it, it’s double good!” He snorted. “So easily pleased.” With that, he picked up his pack of cigarettes from the table and went out to the balcony. He hadn’t been a smoker before. He’d probably started in the last two months, around the same time Sienna had pulled strings to transfer from another top university. I heard she had always kept Kian on a string, and it was only my appearance as his “girlfriend” that had finally made her panic. But now that she had delivered herself to him, Kian was bound by his promise to me and couldn’t do anything with his first love. He was probably frustrated. I watched the hazy white smoke rings dissipate on the balcony and licked the cream from the corner of my mouth. Kian really was a decent guy. Once he agreed to something, he saw it through, no matter how much he disliked it. For the past five months, he had fulfilled every superficial aspect of a relationship that I had wanted to experience. So. I was willing to give him a little something in return. After my birthday next week, I would set him free ahead of schedule. After all, with Neil as a little appetizer, I was getting impatient to prepare the main course. 8 I had told Kian about my birthday weeks in advance. When the day came, I went back to the apartment after class. I showered and changed into the silk slip dress I had bought just for the occasion. I’d never dared to wear something like this in front of him before because of my scars. But this was our last time together, and my first real birthday. I wanted to experience the “romance” and “sweetness” I had always craved, in its entirety. I even put on some light makeup and a touch of perfume. Then I sat on the edge of the bed, scrolling through videos of lively birthday celebrations online, and waited for him to come home. By nine o’clock, he still wasn’t back. He had told me his department head had suddenly arranged a dinner for the top students. He couldn’t refuse, but he promised he’d find an excuse to leave by eight-thirty. Maybe the department head was hard to fool, I thought, shifting my weight. The silk would wrinkle if I leaned back, and my back was already aching. At ten, I messaged him. No reply. At eleven, I called him. No answer. At eleven-forty, he finally texted back. Sienna collapsed at dinner. I’m taking her to AU General. I’ll be back as soon as her parents get here. It would take at least twenty minutes to get back from the hospital. I stared at the message, my body stiff. I looked at the time. Then, barefoot, I walked step by step to the bathroom mirror. The reflection showed a girl with pale shoulders, arms, and chest covered in a grotesque web of old scars. Her face was darker and more lifeless than ever before. Why? Why couldn’t you just give me a perfect ending for our last night? Why, when you people already have so much happiness, can’t you stand to see me have just a little taste of it? CRASH! I grabbed the perfume bottle and hurled it at the mirror, shattering the reflection of that crazed face. Then I ripped off the silk dress, stormed to the storage room, and pulled out my suitcase. I punched in the code, changed into my black hoodie and sweatpants, and pulled on my hat and gloves. Finally, from an inner pocket of the suitcase, I took out a foldable military knife. After a final check, I glanced at the time again: 11:55 PM I gripped the knife in my left hand and pulled up my mask. My right hand reached for the doorknob. Click. The door was pulled open from the outside. 9 “…Dressed like that, where are you going?” Kian stood in the doorway, a bouquet of flowers in his hands, his eyes locked on me. His chest was heaving. He took a heavy step toward me, his gaze shifting to my hand. “What are you holding?” I was frozen solid, a statue. I stared back at him for a long time before my dry, tight voice returned. “Weren’t you waiting for Sienna’s parents? Why are you back?” “It wouldn’t be your birthday after midnight. So I floored it.” “Oh. I thought I was going to be spending my birthday alone again, so I was just going for a walk.” I forced a smile and opened my palm to show him the knife. “It’s not safe for a girl to be out alone, so I brought this for protection.” Kian stared at the knife for a long moment before finally closing his sharp, dark eyes. He held out the roses. “I messed up tonight. I’m sorry I’m late. Happy birthday, Maya.” I looked down at the bouquet and the small, elegant box nestled within it. “Thank you.” Inside, I put the flowers in a vase and opened the box. It was a beautiful, understated necklace. “Do you like it?” I nodded. Kian took it out and fastened it around my neck, then pulled me into a hug. Maybe it was my imagination, but the hug seemed to carry a hint of profound, relieved gratitude. He let me go and turned toward the bathroom. “I’m covered in sweat. I’m going to take a quick shower.” By now, the adrenaline had faded, and I remembered the state of the bathroom. I grabbed a broom, forcing another one of my placating smiles. “It was my first time using that perfume. My hand slipped and I broke the mirror. I’ll just sweep it up.” Kian paused at the doorway but said nothing. Later, when we were lying in bed, his body, still damp from the shower, pressed against me in the darkness. It was a rare occurrence. This was the first time he had ever initiated.

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A month ago, I was cursed with the Truth System. Now, any lie spoken in my presence comes true in the worst possible way. Right now, my boyfriend, Ryan, is standing before me, his face a mask of panic. He claims he’s desperately ill and needs me to donate one of my kidneys to save his life. [LIE DETECTED. ILLNESS IS A FABRICATION. COMMENCING REALITY-ALTERATION.] The cold, mechanical voice echoed in my head. I stared in shock at the man I’d loved for three years. I couldn’t believe he would lie to me about something like this. Seeing me frozen and unresponsive, Ryan must have thought I doubted him. He grabbed my arm and started dragging me toward the hospital, insisting he would show me the “test results.” As I watched his determined act, a chilling coldness spread through my heart. Oh, I believed him. After all, his lie was already coming true. … At the hospital, Ryan sat across from me, his face unnaturally pale. He was flanked by his so-called best friend, Colby, and a pack of his loyal buddies. “Ruby, I’m out of options,” he pleaded, his voice cracking. “I’m really sick. You’re the only one who can save me.” Colby chimed in, her expression a perfect portrait of concern. “He’s right, Ruby. Ryan’s been feeling awful for days. If I hadn’t dragged him to the hospital, we never would have known about his kidneys. The doctor said he needs a transplant as soon as possible, or it’s going to be dangerous!” [LIE DETECTED FROM BOTH PARTIES. COMMENCING REALITY-ALTERATION.] I glanced between them. Just as the system’s voice faded, the color drained even further from Ryan’s face. I didn’t call them out. Instead, I played along. “Ryan, don’t worry,” I said, faking a worried frown. “Maybe there was a mistake with the last test. Let’s just wait for the new results.” Colby immediately shot me down. “This is the best hospital in the state! Every day you delay is another day Ryan is in danger! If something happens to him, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.” Her words were so absurd I almost laughed. The only thing I’d regret for the rest of my life was actually giving them my kidney. I fixed my gaze on her. “I’m just trying to be careful, for Ryan’s sake. This is his life we’re talking about,” I said, my voice hardening. “Besides, you’re always saying you’re his best friend, practically a sister. You’re so close… why don’t you give him a kidney? Your blood types might even be a match.” A flicker of panic crossed Colby’s eyes before she quickly clutched her chest and started coughing dramatically. “I would, but… I have a heart condition, you see… cough, cough…” [LIE DETECTED. HEART CONDITION IS A FABRICATION. COMMENCING REALITY-ALTERATION.] This time, I couldn’t hold back a small, bitter laugh. “You know what they say. If you cry wolf enough times…” Colby opened her mouth to retort, but a sudden, sharp pain lanced through her chest. She gasped and doubled over. Ryan instantly rushed to her side, handing her his glass of water, his face etched with worry. When his eyes met mine, however, they were blazing with fury. “Why do you always have to make everything a competition? Even this? Colby’s health is fragile, and you’re deliberately trying to upset her. Apologize. Now.” I was speechless with rage. In the three years we’d been together, he had defended her countless times. Colby, the “best friend,” had inserted herself into every corner of our lives, even crashing our first-anniversary dinner “just as a friend.” Every time I complained, Ryan would shut me down with, “Can’t you just stop being so petty?” Now I saw it all clearly. Their relationship had been a lie for a long time. I refused to apologize. He was about to argue further when a doctor emerged with a file. He walked directly to Ryan and handed him the report. “The results are the same as two days ago,” the doctor said gravely. “It’s renal failure. You need a transplant, and you need it soon.” Ryan’s aggressive posture melted away. He turned to me, his expression softening into one of pathetic vulnerability. “You heard the doctor, Ruby. Now do you believe me?” The doctor stepped forward, his tone serious. “Ma’am, you’re Mr. Hayes’s girlfriend, correct? His condition is extremely critical. We’ve checked the donor database, and your blood type is a near-perfect match. You’re our best hope. Please, consider saving your boyfriend’s life.” The system was silent. Not because the doctor wasn’t speaking, but because Ryan’s lie was now the absolute truth. His condition was critical. Every eye in the hallway swiveled to me. Colby, still clutching her chest, pointed a trembling finger at me. “See? Now do you believe it? If you don’t donate and something happens to Ryan, you’ll never have a moment’s peace for the rest of your life!” Her face was pale, but her voice was sharp with accusation. “Ruby, don’t be so selfish! This is the man you’re supposed to spend your life with. It’s just one kidney! You can live perfectly fine without it. How can you be so heartless?” Ryan’s friends swarmed in, their voices a tidal wave of condemnation. “Ruby, that’s low. Ryan’s always so good to you, and now that he needs you, you’re making excuses.” “Yeah, it’s just one kidney! What’s there to even think about?” “If my girlfriend acted like this, I’d have dumped her ages ago. Ryan must have been blind.” The sheer hypocrisy was suffocating. “It’s not that I won’t help,” I said, my voice dangerously calm. “But donating a kidney isn’t like getting a papercut. I had a check-up last week, and my doctor said my own kidney function was a little unstable. If I go through with this, we could both end up in trouble.” “You’re lying!” Colby shrieked. “You’re just making up excuses because you don’t want to do it!” Ryan frowned, his voice laced with disappointment. “Ruby, you’re lying to me? At a time like this? If you don’t want to save me, just say so. You don’t have to make things up.” I looked at him and suddenly smiled. “I’m not lying. But fine. You want my kidney? Say it. Say it loud and clear, right here, in front of everyone. Say, ‘I, Ryan Hayes, am in renal failure and I need Ruby Stone to donate her kidney to save my life.’ Say that, and I’ll go through with the tests.” Ryan froze. Colby tugged at his sleeve. “Ryan, just say it! It’s just one sentence!” My smile widened. “Ever heard of a self-fulfilling prophecy?” I asked, my words aimed at the air. “Sometimes, if you repeat a lie enough, it has a way of becoming true.” No one paid attention to my warning. All eyes were on Ryan. He clenched his jaw, his gaze darting from the expectant faces around him to Colby’s pale, pained expression. Finally, he took a deep breath. “I, Ryan Hayes, am in renal failure, and I need Ruby Stone to donate her kidney to save my life.” The second the words left his mouth, his face went another shade whiter. No one else noticed. But I did. Looking at his ashen face, I finally agreed to cooperate. Just then, my mother pushed through the crowd. She spotted me and pointed a finger right at my face. “Ruby, have you lost your mind? Ryan is in this state, and you’re still refusing to help? How can you be so cold and selfish!” “Mom, I—” “Don’t you ‘Mom’ me!” she cut me off. “Ryan is such a wonderful boy! He’s so good to you! And now that he needs you, you’re dragging your feet. If you don’t agree to donate that kidney today, then you’re no daughter of mine. We’re done, you and I, as of right now.” I stared at her, utterly stunned. I had expected her to be upset, but I never imagined she would so casually demand I sacrifice a part of my body. Ever since I started dating Ryan, her loyalty had shifted completely. His family had money, and because of that, she treated him like he was her own son, always urging me to put him first. I decided then and there to ignore her. The air turned to ice. Ryan, ever the performer, rushed to my mother’s side and gently took her arm. “Auntie, please don’t be angry. Ruby is probably just overwhelmed. Don’t pressure her.” His words were meant to sound supportive, but they were gasoline on a fire. My mother’s rage intensified. “How did I raise such a heartless monster? You are donating that kidney today. I don’t care if you want to or not. You’re doing it.” The relatives chimed in, and someone even pulled out their phone, announcing they had already scheduled the surgery at the city’s main hospital for next Wednesday. I looked at the scene before me, a perfect tableau of betrayal, and felt a bitter laugh rise in my throat. I took a deep breath. “Fine,” I said slowly. “I’ll cooperate with the pre-op preparations. But I want a full health screening first. For everyone’s safety.” Ryan and Colby exchanged a triumphant look. “Of course,” Ryan nodded. “Whatever you say.” “That’s a good idea,” Colby added quickly. “For Ryan’s safety, we should definitely be thorough.” I heard the unspoken meaning in her words and could only find it laughable. A short while later, I was back at the hospital with Ryan for the pre-op screening. When it was over, he said he needed to use the restroom. I followed him discreetly. Sure enough, Colby was waiting for him. I hid around the corner and watched as she draped herself over his arm. “Oh, Ryan, you’ve been working so hard,” she cooed. “If my own kidney problems hadn’t flared up, we wouldn’t have had to go through all this trouble of you pretending to be sick just to trick her.” Ryan’s voice was full of adoration. “Anything for you is worth it, Colby. As soon as the surgery is over, I’m breaking up with her. God, faking being sick is exhausting. If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t have wasted another second on her.” I stood frozen in the hallway, ice coursing through my veins. So that was it. He was never sick. It was all for Colby. Her kidneys were failing, so they conspired to steal one of mine, using our three years together as a cover and emotional blackmail as their weapon. I was just their personal organ bank. As rage burned through me, the system’s voice returned. [LIE DETECTED. KIDNEY PROBLEM IS A FABRICATION. COMMENCING REALITY-ALTERATION.] My eyes snapped to Colby. Just as the system predicted, the color drained from her face, leaving her looking ghostly and frail. Ryan, oblivious, simply thought she was having a bad spell and pulled her into a protective hug. I watched them for a moment longer, then slipped away, my face a mask of calm. They had no idea what they had just done. The next day, during the health check, I insisted on a more detailed renal function test. Ryan’s expression flickered, and he was about to refuse, but Colby jumped in first. “Of course, of course! A comprehensive check is always better.” She gave Ryan a subtle nudge and a meaningful look. He caught on. “Right. Whatever you want, Ruby. A full workup it is.” During the examination, I could tell the doctor was acting strangely, especially when he was checking Ryan’s kidney function. His eyes kept darting away. If he had done his job properly right then, he might have actually saved Ryan. But he was following Ryan’s orders, and in doing so, Ryan had personally severed his own lifeline. Kidney failure and heart disease weren’t instant. They were slow, agonizing descents into death. I was more than happy to watch the show. When the reports came back, they were exactly what I expected. Ryan’s showed severe renal failure. Mine declared me to be in perfect health, an ideal donor. I held my report and let out a cold laugh. Just two weeks ago, a different doctor had diagnosed me with hydronephrosis and warned me to seek treatment immediately. And now, suddenly, I was the picture of health? The goal was obvious. They had faked my report to ensure the transplant went ahead. This entire thing, from start to finish, was a trap. This time, I didn’t hold back. I stormed into the doctor’s office and slapped the report down on his desk. “What kind of doctor are you?” I demanded. “I was diagnosed with a serious kidney condition two weeks ago, and you’re telling me I’m perfectly healthy? Are you trying to kill me, or are you trying to kill my boyfriend?” The doctor’s face paled, but he held his ground. “What are you talking about? I’m a physician. I would never falsify a report! The data is accurate. You must be misremembering. Now, please, stop causing a scene and disrupting the hospital!” His eyes shifted nervously, but his voice was firm. “I swear on my professional oath, this report is one hundred percent accurate. If I faked it, may I drop dead on the spot!” [LIE DETECTED. DEATH ON THE SPOT WILL BE MADE TRUE.] The system’s voice had barely faded when a commotion erupted at the end of the hall.

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In the earthquake, both my brother and my childhood fiancé abandoned me, choosing to save the real heiress first. My right leg was crushed and fractured as a result. After I was pulled from the rubble, I heard my fiancé, Brook, give my brother a quiet order. “I’m planning to break off our engagement, so I need to keep my distance. She’s your sister. You take care of her.” “Like hell she is!” Leo shot back, his voice dripping with resentment. “My real sister is back. What’s an outsider like her still doing hanging around our house?” They both happened to glance back then. Our eyes met, and an unspeakable awkwardness hung in the air. 1 The rescue worker carrying my stretcher froze, his gaze dropping to me. “Didn’t you say they were your family?” he asked, confused. “Why’d he call you an outsider? Who am I supposed to leave you with?” The moment he spoke, the two boys who had been pushing responsibility onto each other fell silent. They turned in unison, their eyes locking with mine again, a flicker of unease in their expressions. They clearly hadn’t expected me to be right behind them, to hear every word. I tried to speak, but the pain overwhelmed me, and the world went black. 2 I woke to the sound of hushed voices outside my hospital room. “That poor girl. Her leg is completely fractured, and not a single person has come to look after her since she was admitted.” “Well, it’s her own fault, isn’t it? I heard she was the one switched at birth. Now that the real daughter is back, she should have the decency to leave. No wonder they don’t want her around.” “I suppose you’re right…” I stared blankly at the thick plaster cast on my right leg. The sharp agony had dulled to a throb. When I was trapped under the debris, hearing Leo’s voice had felt like salvation. “What are you waiting for? Of course you save my sister first!” he had yelled. “She’s claustrophobic! If anything happens to her because you dragged your feet, I’ll kill you!” The one with claustrophobia was Missy, the real daughter. The rescuer’s tone turned grave. “Then the family needs to be prepared. The girl on the other side… there’s a high probability her leg will be crushed by the collapsing wall.” Leo hesitated. His voice dropped to a near whisper. “I… I understand…” Then, a little louder, defensively, “What was I supposed to do? I could only save one of them.” Threads of light pierced through the cracks in the rubble, faintly illuminating my leg, pinned between slabs of concrete. In that moment, when the pain was so intense it stole my voice, my resentment for Leo peaked. But now, lying here, I couldn’t summon any of that emotion. I could even analyze the situation with a strange detachment. Leo wasn’t wrong. Choosing his own flesh and blood… it was only logical. He was right. It was time for me to leave. There’s nothing more pathetic than someone who overstays their welcome. 3 Leo and the others came to visit while I was clumsily trying to reach the heating pad on my bedside table. My hand was icy from the IV drip. Missy led the way, practically bouncing over to my bed. “Faye! Did you really break your leg?” she asked, her eyes wide as she stared at the cast. Then she let out a breath of relieved air. “Oh, I can’t even imagine. If that were me, I’d be crying every single day. Thank goodness…” A wave of exhaustion washed over me, and I couldn’t be bothered to decipher how much of her tone was genuine sympathy and how much was thinly veiled glee. Leo stood farthest away, deliberately avoiding my gaze. He was clearly still hung up on the embarrassment of that day by the ruins. Not like Brook. His expression was as cool and distant as ever. His eyes swept over my injured leg, a flicker of a frown, barely noticeable. After a long moment, he spoke. “We’ll talk when you’ve recovered.” I froze. I remembered his words from the wreckage. I’m planning to break off our engagement. That must have been what he couldn’t bring himself to say. Missy looked back at him, her eyes shimmering. “You’re getting soft, aren’t you?” Brook’s lips thinned. “And you think I should kick her while she’s down?” Missy’s gaze fell. After a few seconds, she murmured, “That’s not what I meant. I’m a little tired, I’m going to head home. You two should stay and take care of Faye. It must be hard for her to do things on her own.” She rushed the words out and then fled the room, the sound of a choked sob echoing behind her. Leo glared at Brook like a wolf pup guarding its food. “Brook,” he growled. “You dare make my sister cry?” Brook’s focus was still on the girl who had just left. He ignored Leo’s warning, his voice low and firm as he followed her out. “You stay here and look after her.” “What?” Leo sputtered. He shot me a panicked look before scrambling after them. “Wait! I don’t know how to take care of anyone! Don’t just leave me here!” He bolted as if he were fleeing the plague. The door, left ajar, swung back and forth in the draft from the window. Just like that, I was alone again. From start to finish, no one had given me a chance to say a word. To tell them I agreed to end the engagement. Or that I didn’t need anyone to stay and take care of me. In the week I’d been in the hospital, I had already learned how to take care of myself. 4 No one else came to visit before I was discharged. My adoptive mother called once, right after I had the cast removed. She sighed, her voice gentle and persuasive. “Faye, don’t blame Leo for choosing Missy. She’s his real sister, you understand? I don’t want this to create a rift between you two.” “I don’t blame him, Mom. He didn’t do anything wrong.” “You’ve always been the understanding one,” she said, relieved. “Your father and I will pick you up when you’re discharged. We’re on a business trip right now, so we haven’t had time to visit. You need to take good care of yourself.” Just then, I heard Leo’s impatient voice in the background. “Mom! Who are you talking to? Hurry up! Let’s get a family picture before… you know who… gets back.” The silence on the line was deafening, filled only with a faint electronic hum. I kept my voice even. “I will, Mom. I’ll take care of myself.” I heard a distinct sigh of relief from her end. “Oh, good… Well, I have to go. I have a meeting.” The call ended abruptly. The night was quiet. I put my phone away and, gripping the handrail, began another round of physical therapy. In the silent hospital corridor, it was just me, dragging my atrophied leg one small step at a time. Half an hour later, with beads of sweat on my forehead, I managed a small smile. I’d walked two feet farther than yesterday. 5 No one came to pick me up on the day of my discharge. Fortunately, I wasn’t waiting for anyone. I had just stepped through the front door, luggage in hand, when I realized I’d come back at the wrong time. The Bennetts—all four of them—and Brook were gathered around the dining table, enjoying hot pot. My arrival shattered the cheerful atmosphere. Their expressions shifted, none of them welcoming. The only sound was the gentle bubbling of the broth. My adoptive mother recovered first, forcing a smile. “Faye! You’re back! Why didn’t you tell us you were coming… You haven’t eaten, have you? Come, sit down and join us.” The spicy aroma filled the air, and my healing leg seemed to ache in phantom pain. But unlike before, I felt no surge of self-pity, no urge to lash out about how no one truly cared, how no one remembered that I needed to avoid spicy food while I was recovering. I didn’t step forward to ruin their meal. “It’s okay, Mom,” I said. “I ate before I came back. I’m just going to go upstairs and unpack.” Later that evening, in my adoptive father’s study. He tapped a rhythmic beat on the mahogany desk. “You’re leaving?” I nodded. “My flight is in a week.” I added, “Please, don’t tell Mom or the others just yet.” I’d chosen to tell him, and only him, because he was the least attached to me. He wouldn’t try to guilt me into staying with some soft-hearted appeal. As expected, he didn’t try to dissuade me. “It’s for the best,” he said. “You can see for yourself, your presence has thrown this family into disarray.” He looked at me, his gaze direct. “Once you leave, don’t contact your mother or the others again. It’s better to make a clean break.” I promised him I would never appear before them again. He studied me for a few seconds, a flicker of surprise in his eyes, but said nothing more. 6 A heavy weight I hadn’t even realized I was carrying suddenly lifted. I felt impossibly light. I walked out of the villa, needing some fresh air. A familiar angry shout erupted nearby. “Brook, you asshole, you ditched me again!” Leo was yelling into his phone. “You take my sister out on a date and leave me to deal with her all by myself? What kind of friend are you?” He trailed off, muttering, “God, I can’t believe it… why did she have to come back? Doesn’t she get how awkward she makes it for everyone…” Leo ended the call with a frustrated jab at the screen. He turned and his eyes met mine. His furious expression morphed into something complicated and unreadable. As we stood there in a tense silence, a car sped down the street. Leo was standing right on the curb, lost in thought. Years of habit took over. I lunged forward and yanked him back onto the sidewalk. The car honked twice and shot past. I let out a breath, feeling no desire to speak to him. I released his arm and started to walk away. Leo stood frozen for a second before jogging to catch up. “Hey, Faye… thanks.” I gave a curt nod, not slowing down. He stammered for a moment, then suddenly grabbed my hand, his voice a torrent of frustrated confession. “I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have said all that stuff about wanting you to leave. You know me, I’ve always had a big mouth. I didn’t really mean it…” I turned my head and looked at the boy whose face still held a trace of childishness. “I know.” “So… can we be okay again?” he asked, his awkwardness betrayed by the red tips of his ears. I tried to pull my wrist free. I didn’t answer his question. Instead, I said, “Can you let go of me, please? Holding my hand like this… it feels strange.” Leo’s hand dropped as if he’d been burned. His stunned expression was laced with a flicker of hurt. He had held my hand like this our entire lives. I didn’t know when it had started to feel so wrong. 7 Just as I was about to leave, a convertible Aston Martin pulled up beside us. Missy was in the passenger seat, her eyes darting between Leo and me. She addressed Leo, her voice syrupy sweet. “Leo, aren’t you a little old to be so clingy? Hop in. This is the last time, I promise. Next time, we’re really not bringing you.” Leo didn’t move. He frowned. “Missy, you should probably wipe your mouth.” His comment made me look closer. There was a smudge of lipstick blurring the edge of her lips. A matching smear was visible on the corner of Brook’s mouth. Missy’s ears turned pink. She grabbed the rearview mirror, dabbing at her lipstick as she complained, “I told you not to kiss so hard. This is so embarrassing.” I looked at Brook and our eyes met for a brief, charged moment. He quickly looked away. He tapped his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel. “You getting in or not?” he asked Leo. This time, Leo didn’t rise to the bait and start an argument. Instead, he took my hand again. “You guys go have fun,” he said quietly. “I’m not going to intrude. I’ll just walk Faye home.” Before I could react, he was leading me away. “Wait,” Missy called out. “Brook has something to say to you.” She poked Brook’s shoulder playfully, a wide smile on her face. “Faye’s out of the hospital now. You can say it.” I stood still, watching Brook, waiting for him to officially break our engagement. He looked down, his gaze fixed on nothing. After a long pause, he finally spoke. “How’s the physical therapy going?” Missy’s smile froze. I was taken aback. “It’s going well.” Brook gave a slight nod, then let out the clutch and the car pulled away. He still hadn’t said it. Inappropriately, I remembered something a nurse had told me while I was in the hospital. She’d mentioned a tall, handsome young man who had come to see me twice while I was asleep. I was only now realizing it must have been Brook. 8 Brook was dragging his feet, but my adoptive mother brought it up the very next evening at dinner. Brook, sitting next to Missy, jerked his head up at her words, clearly as surprised as I was. “Faye,” my adoptive mother began, her tone gentle but firm, “this engagement was always meant for Missy. Be a good girl and step aside. I’ll find you another suitable young man.” I placed a stalk of asparagus in my bowl. “Okay, Mom,” I replied softly. “Whatever you think is best.” My easy compliance seemed to startle everyone at the table. They hadn’t expected me to agree so readily. My mother’s expression relaxed into a smile. “You’ve become so much more sensible since you’ve been back.” I kept my head down and focused on my food, saying nothing more. I hadn’t become more sensible. I had just accepted reality. The moment I stopped seeing them as my family and started seeing them as outsiders to whom I owed a debt of gratitude for raising me, I finally understood my place. There was nothing left to resent. After dinner, I was carrying a glass of water upstairs when I passed Missy’s room. The door was ajar. She was hugging our mother, her voice a whiny murmur. “Mom, you can’t set Faye up with anyone too good, okay? She got to live my life for twenty-one years. It’s time she had a taste of hardship. She owes me that much.” My mother’s hand, which had been stroking Missy’s hair, paused. “Faye is an orphan, Missy. She was abandoned at the hospital right after she was born. It was a nurse’s mistake that got you two switched. She’s innocent in all of this…” Missy pulled away, her eyes flashing. “So I deserved to suffer for all those years? I’m not asking her to pay back the money this family spent on her. I’m not even kicking her out. I just want her to face a few setbacks, so I can feel like things are a little more balanced. Are you going to defend her even on this?” Her last words were choked with tears. She threw herself onto the bed, her sobs growing louder. Our mother rushed to comfort her. “Okay, okay, Mommy promises. What about Ricky Dawson? His father is that big real estate developer. Everyone knows Ricky is the wildest party boy in the city. I’ll introduce him to Faye, how about that? Please stop crying, my sweet girl.” I lowered my eyes and walked away. Downstairs, I set my glass on the counter. The ice had almost completely melted. I looked at my hand. It was pale and numb from the cold, a sensation I was only just now registering. 9 Brook found me as I was washing the glass. He sat silently at the bar behind me. Just as I turned to leave, he spoke, his voice low. “Don’t go on some random blind date.” His words hung in the air. “Everyone knows you’re not a Bennett anymore. Any man you meet now will just look down on you.” I kept walking. “That has nothing to do with you.” His hand shot out, grabbing my arm. He pulled me around to face him, his eyes burning into mine. “Are you angry with me for breaking the engagement? Faye, I didn’t have a choice. To protect the alliance between our families, I have to marry the real Bennett daughter.” I struggled against his grip. “And I suppose you were forced to fall for Missy, too? Stop acting so innocent.” His grip tightened, a bitter smile twisting his lips. “And whose fault is that? When Missy first came back, you were so paranoid you were barely recognizable. You were constantly accusing me of having something going on with her. If she so much as said hello to me, you’d pick a fight. Think about it, Faye. You’re the one who pushed me away.” I didn’t want to rehash the past—the time I saw Missy deliberately fall into his arms, the late-night texts they exchanged. I just focused on trying to wrench my arm free. He watched me struggle, his face a mask of indifference. “Brook! Let go of my sister!” Leo’s roar came from the top of the stairs, followed by the thunder of his footsteps. He charged down and shoved Brook away from me. “I’m warning you, stay the hell away from her. You have Missy now. Leave my other sister alone.” He positioned himself in front of me, a protective stance so familiar yet so foreign after all this time. After Brook left, the tension in Leo’s shoulders eased. He turned to me. “Faye, if he ever bothers you again, you tell me. I’ll deal with him.” “Thank you.” He chewed on his lip, then asked quietly, “Are you busy this afternoon? Do you… want to hang out? I can go with you.” It felt like the old Leo was back. Before Missy, he had always been stuck to my side like this. “No, thank you,” I said. “I have a follow-up appointment at the hospital.” “I’ll go with you,” he insisted, speaking before I could refuse. “Don’t say no again, Faye.” He stood there, a six-foot-two giant, his face a mixture of awkwardness and dejection. “Your leg… it’s my fault. The least I can do is go with you to your appointments. If you end up with any permanent damage, I’ll take care of you for the rest of your life.” He looked at me, his eyes filled with a desperate, pleading hope, as if waiting for me to give him some sign of forgiveness. But I said nothing. There was no ‘rest of your life’ to talk about. In six days, I would be gone. 10 The blind date was set for noon the next day. When my adoptive mother told me, she couldn’t meet my eyes. “Um… Faye. His name is Ricky Dawson. His family is one of the biggest new players in the city, very successful. Just go meet him, get to know each other.” Leo, sitting nearby, scowled. “Ricky Dawson? Mom, isn’t he the one who’s always in the tabloids? Drunk driving, getting into brawls… you’re setting Faye up with a guy like that?” She forced a weak smile. “Don’t listen to rumors, Leo. I’ve met the boy. He’s quite polite.” Leo started to protest again, but I cut him off. “It’s fine. It’s just lunch.” My mother shot Leo a warning look. “See? Faye doesn’t mind. Why are you making such a fuss? If you have this much energy, maybe you should spend it on your real sister. Always sticking your nose where it doesn’t…” She stopped abruptly. In my peripheral vision, I saw both she and Leo glance at me nervously. I didn’t look up from my phone, where I was checking the weather forecast for my departure day. Their reactions meant nothing to me. They didn’t know yet. I had become immune to the word ‘outsider’. 11 Leo insisted on coming with me to the lunch. “If I’m there, that scumbag won’t dare say anything disrespectful,” he declared. “And if he does, I’ll make him regret it.” I glanced at him in the driver’s seat. His profile was still boyish, the last traces of teenage awkwardness fading away. He was only nineteen, a straightforward kid with a simple philosophy: be good to those who are good to you. When Missy first arrived, she had been gentle and attentive to him. She sided with him in everything, even when he was wrong. It made my occasional lectures seem harsh and uncaring by comparison. During one argument, he had yelled at me, “Who do you think you are, Faye? You’re not my real sister! You think this is still your house? You’re just an outsider, got it?” That was the start of our cold war. During that time, he and Missy grew inseparable, and he and I grew completely distant. I think seeing me instinctively save him the other night made him remember how things used to be, and he started trying to get close again. It also magnified his guilt over choosing to save Missy during the earthquake. I thought for a moment, then tried to reason with him. “Leo, you don’t have to do this. You don’t have to try and make it up to me. I don’t blame you for choosing Missy. She’s your real sister. You didn’t do anything wrong.” His knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. Staring straight ahead, he said after a moment, “It’s not about making it up to you. You’re my sister, too. Shouldn’t I be good to you?” His Adam’s apple bobbed, his voice turning husky. “Can you please… just stop pushing me away?” How could I explain it? I wasn’t pushing him away. I just wasn’t waiting for him anymore. So when he turned around to find me, all he could see was the growing distance between us. 12 Ricky Dawson showed up radiating pure scumbag energy, a fresh hickey blooming on his neck. His cocky smirk vanished the second he saw Leo. Leo picked up a butter knife, tapping it against the side of his plate. “Ricky,” he said, his voice deceptively calm. “What’s that on your neck? You knew you were meeting my sister today, right?” Ricky nervously covered his neck with his hand. “It’s just a mosquito bite, Leo, seriously! Don’t get the wrong idea…” The rest of the lunch went by relatively smoothly. He was polite, if a little stiff, and didn’t say anything out of line. On the way home, Leo was humming. “See? You need your little brother to protect you. You didn’t want me to come, but if I hadn’t, you would’ve been bullied.” I didn’t know what to say, so I just thanked him again. He pulled up to the house as usual. As we got out of the car, we came face to face with Brook. He looked like he’d been waiting for a while, his eyes dark and stormy. “You went on the date?” he demanded. Leo stepped in front of me. “What’s it to you? Move.” Brook’s gaze shifted slowly to Leo’s face. Then, without warning, he threw a punch. Caught off guard, Leo stumbled back, hitting the wall. “Brook, what the hell is wrong with you?” I cried, rushing toward Leo, but Brook grabbed my shoulder and pulled me back. He seemed to be fighting to control a raging fire within him, his face eerily calm. “You knew what kind of person he was, and you still went?” he hissed. “Faye, have you really stooped this low? You’re that desperate?” He sneered. “He’s nothing. If you’re trying to marry into his family for a connection, you’d be better off waiting until Missy and I are married and being my mistress. I can give you far more than he ever could.” I stared at him in disbelief. I never thought I would hear such vile words from the lips of the self-controlled, proper Brook I knew. His grip was so tight I couldn’t even raise a hand to slap him. Leo staggered to his feet. “Brook, I dare you to say that again!” He grabbed a decorative garden stake from a nearby planter and raised it high. But before he could bring it down, our mother’s sharp voice cut through the air. Brook, jolted back to his senses, let go of me. My mother stalked toward me, her eyes locked on my face. I swallowed hard. “Mom…” A sudden, sharp slap cut off my words, my head snapping to the side. Brook flinched. Leo yelled, “Mom! What are you doing? This asshole was harassing Faye!” “You, be quiet!” she snapped at him, then turned her fury back on me. “Faye, answer me. Did you or did you not promise me you would let Brook go for Missy’s sake?” Even the slightest movement of my jaw sent a sharp, stinging pain through my cheek. “Mom, I didn’t…” “Did you or did you not?” she shrieked. After a few seconds of silence, I nodded. “I did.” “Then what are you doing still getting tangled up with him? Are you doing this just to spite your sister?” Her shoulders trembled with rage. “You even provoked Leo into fighting for you.” I stood frozen, able to feel her hatred in every word without even looking at her. “If you had died in the hospital all those years ago,” she said, her voice venomous, “my daughter might never have been switched, and our family wouldn’t be in this goddamn mess.”

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