Author: Momo Chan

My wife, obsessed with Botox and Bergdorf’s, suddenly took up fishing last month. She bombarded me with questions about gear and techniques, claiming she wanted to join my trips—yet always declined when I suggested going. Then I spotted a million-dollar custom fishing rod order on her phone, engraved “JC.” I assumed it was for me. But my birthday passed. Our anniversary came and went. The rod was delivered—yet never appeared. Today, my fishing group shared a screenshot: “Cameron Young scored a rich sugar mama! Check out this $4M rod!” There was my wife in a cocktail dress, laughing with a stranger, holding matching rods. Her comment: “Happy to share your passions.” So “JC” didn’t stand for Jason Chen. It was for Jason Cameron. I called our family conglomerate: “Withdraw all investments from the Pei Group. Bankrupt them.” 1 I hung up, but the messages in the group chat kept flooding in. “Four million dollars for a rod! And his sugar mama is that beautiful? The guy’s living the dream!” Every compliment was a poisoned needle, making my eyes burn. I forwarded the screenshot to Clara, followed by a simple text: “Explain this.” Silence. My brow furrowed. Just as I was about to call her directly, a link appeared in the chat. “Check it out! Cameron’s live-streaming! And the sugar mama is with him!” Some dark impulse made me tap the link. The live feed instantly filled my screen. At the center was Cameron, decked out in brand-new, professional fishing gear, grinning like a fool. Beside him was Clara. She was wearing that same sexy, curve-hugging dress, her head tilted as she gazed at him. Her eyes were filled with a focused, tender adoration—the way one looks at a priceless treasure. “Hey everyone! Thanks for tuning in!” Cameron waved at the camera, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction. “Today, I’m showing my girl here the joys of deep-sea fishing!” The casual intimacy, the blatant flirtation, hit me like a physical blow. A dull roar filled my ears. The comment section exploded. “OMG! I ship them so hard!” Then, a single question floated past: “Are you two a couple?” Cameron’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second. He paused, then turned his intense gaze on Clara. His voice was low, but the microphone picked it up clearly. “She’s the most important person in my life.” Hearing this, Clara lowered her head, a shy blush creeping up her neck. The live chat went into a frenzy. I watched the spectacle, my fingers flying across the keyboard. “Honey, I thought you were shopping with your friends today? Why are you fishing?” “What kind of relationship is worth a four-million-dollar fishing rod? Is he your new boyfriend?” My username, my real name, scrolled across the screen, a stark and jarring intrusion amidst the flurry of gushing comments. The live stream fell silent for a beat. Then, all hell broke loose. “WTF?? HONEY? That’s a lot to unpack!” “HOLY SHIT! Major drama! The sugar mama is married and cheating???” “Is this for real?!” Cameron clearly saw the comments. Panic flashed across his face before he forced a stiff smile. “Guys, let’s not joke around like that. You’ll upset her.” He tried to play it off, but the terror in his eyes was unmistakable. Clara’s expression had turned to stone. She struggled to control her composure, her voice tight with panic. “It’s… it’s fine. I’m honored to have so many admirers.” She forced one last, brittle smile for the camera. “Alright, that’s all for today’s stream! See you all next time!” The screen went black. I tossed the phone onto the desk. Leaning back in my chair, I closed my eyes, pressing my knuckles into my throbbing temples. A moment later, my phone rang. The name “Clara” flashed on the screen. “Julian…” The second I answered, her panicked, frantic voice spilled out. “You… you have to let me explain… It’s not what you think… I swear it’s not… I can explain everything…” My voice was ice. “You have thirty minutes. Come home and explain.” I paused. “And bring your little friend Cameron with you.” Before she could respond, I ended the call. 2 Thirty minutes later, the smart lock chimed. The door opened. Clara stood there, alone. My eyes swept past her to the empty entryway. “Where is he?” She froze, her fingers twisting the hem of her dress. Her voice was laced with a carefully crafted vulnerability. “Julian… this is between us. Cameron… he’s just a kid, he just graduated.” “This has nothing to do with him! Please, don’t drag him into this. Please?” I walked over to the sofa and sat down. “Fine.” I looked up, catching the flicker of guilt in her eyes. “You have five minutes. Explain.” “I want to hear why you spent the last month begging me to teach you how to fish, if not to entertain your new boy toy.” Clara sat across from me, her words a desperate scramble. “Last month, I was in a fender bender in the parking garage. Some guy was trying to scam me. Cameron was just walking by, and he helped me out.” “The gift was just a thank you. That’s all it was. I swear.” The lie was so pathetic, I almost laughed. “A thank you? Clara, if you’re going to lie, at least put some effort into it.” She quickly rolled up her sleeve, revealing a faint scratch on her forearm. “I’m not lying! Look! I was even hurt!” “The guy scraped my car, and while I was arguing with him, Cameron called the police and got the security footage for me.” A cold, humorless smile touched my lips. “Look at what you’re wearing today. You were practically draped all over him. And the initials on the rod? Both of your initials.” “What, he helps you with a minor car issue and you decide to offer him your body in return?” Tears welled in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Julian. I didn’t mean for it to look like that.” “I was in a rush when I left the house, I just threw something on.” “And the initials on the rod… it was just a token of my gratitude, nothing more.” “The fishing… you taught me everything, and in the moment, I just…” “I was wrong… I’ll never do it again.” She wept, her face a mask of profound, theatrical sorrow, as if she were the one who had been wronged. I clenched my jaw, fighting back a wave of disgust. My voice was glacial. “You have two choices.” “One: you cut off all contact with this Cameron kid. Completely and forever.” “Two,” I said, pointing to the divorce papers I had already prepared, “we get a divorce.” “Divorce?!” The word seemed to scald her. She shrieked and lunged at me, grabbing my arm with a desperate strength. “No! I won’t sign it! I’ll die before I sign it!” “Julian, I know I was wrong! I’ll never speak to him again, I swear!” Fumbling, she pulled out her phone and, without a moment’s hesitation, deleted every trace of him—his number, his social media, everything. When she was done, she looked at me, her eyes wide with fear. “It’s done. He’s gone.” I stood up and walked over to her. “Clara,” I said, my voice low and heavy with a weariness I didn’t recognize in myself. “You know I love you.” Her body tensed in my arms, then she clung to me tighter. “But you also know,” my fingers tightened unconsciously, “that when it comes to my marriage, my tolerance for this kind of betrayal is zero. That is my bottom line.” “You can be dramatic. You can throw tantrums. You can have your moods. I can handle all of that.” “But I expect you to know the difference between right and wrong. I expect you to remember where the line is.” “I know… Julian, I know…” she sobbed into my chest, her tear-streaked face turned up to mine. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen… Please, just forgive me this one time…” 3 For a full week after our confrontation, she was the model of a perfect wife. She canceled all her social engagements and even insisted on joining me for a night of fishing by the river. To mark the occasion, she presented me with a brand-new fishing rod. It was a handcrafted masterpiece from a world-renowned artisan, its price tag even higher than Cameron’s. She linked her arm through mine, her smile bright. “Julian, I’ve been so foolish. From now on, I’ll be right here with you.” Holding the heavy, expensive rod, watching her act so docile and dependent, I felt the storm clouds in my mind begin to part. That afternoon, while I was reviewing some documents, my phone rang. It was Ryan, my executive assistant at Chen Conglomerate. “Mr. Chen,” Ryan’s voice was as calm and professional as ever. “As per your instructions, all procedures to sever ties with the Pei Group are… ready to go.” “Shall I execute the final withdrawal command now?” His words hung in the air. I thought about the changes in Clara over the past week. A flicker of doubt entered my mind. After a long silence, I spoke. “Wait.” One last chance. I would give her one last chance. I thought she might actually pass the test. I overestimated her. Two weeks later, Clara called to tell me she was going out of town for a few days to work on a deal. She was informing me, not asking. But I was swamped with a major project of my own, so I simply told her to be safe. Three days passed without a single call from her. After wrapping up my work, I called her. No answer. I tried her assistant, Lena. “Lena, how are the negotiations going with OmniCorp?” Lena sounded confused. “Mr. Chen, Ms. Pei went on the trip alone. I didn’t accompany her.” “I see. Thank you.” I hung up and found the private number for the CEO of OmniCorp in my contacts. He answered quickly. I didn’t waste any time. “Mr. Davies, is my wife, Clara Pei, there meeting with you?” There was a moment of stunned silence on the other end. “Clara? No. Julian, I think you have the wrong information,” he said, puzzled. “I’m in Bali right now, sunbathing. Why would I be in a meeting with her?” My heart stopped. My grip on the phone tightened until my knuckles were white. “I understand. My apologies for disturbing you, Mr. Davies.” My throat was dry as I ended the call. Just then, a notification popped up from my angler’s group chat. “Another great day of sea fishing with my sugar mama.” The photo was taken on a private island. Clara, in a revealing swimsuit, was pressed tightly against Cameron. They were sharing a single fishing rod. Blood rushed to my head. With trembling hands, I pulled up the security feed from my private island. A familiar face appeared on the screen. For the past three days, Clara hadn’t been on a business trip. She had been on vacation with Cameron. On my island. I clutched the phone, my knuckles white, and sent a friend request to Cameron’s profile from the group chat. I sent it twice. He didn’t accept. Suddenly, a video call request appeared at the top of my screen. It was Clara. I took a deep breath, forcing down the rage, and answered. Her face filled the screen. The background was a bathroom. She was perfectly made-up, her expression a practiced blend of exhaustion and apology. “Julian! I’m so sorry, honey. I just got out of a meeting, my phone was on silent!” “There are some technical issues with the deal here. It looks like I’ll be stuck for another two days. The day after tomorrow, I promise! I’ll fly right back!” Just as she finished speaking, I heard a sound from her end. It was faint, but unmistakable: a low, masculine groan, thick with a certain… intimacy. “What was that noise?” A flash of panic crossed her face, but she quickly masked it. “Oh! Nothing! I just… I bumped into the vanity. Hit my back…” As the words left her mouth, my security feed showed a crystal-clear image of Cameron standing behind her, massaging her shoulders. I stared at the two screens, the inferno inside me barely contained. “Is that so? Well, be careful. You should put some ointment on it.” She nodded. I looked her directly in the eye. “Clara. You haven’t had any contact with that Cameron kid, have you?” On the screen, her eyes darted away for a second. Her smile became brittle. “Of… of course not! Julian, why are you bringing him up again? I deleted everything! I promise!” “Good.” A humorless smile stretched my lips. “Then… you close that deal. I’ll be waiting for you at home.”

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For our fifth wedding anniversary, my husband didn’t give me flowers or jewelry. He gave me divorce papers. “My mom’s sick,” he’d said, his face etched with exhaustion. “She’s dying, Zoe. And her last wish is to see me divorce you.” He swore it was just a sham. “I promise, it’s just for show. As soon as she’s gone, we’ll get remarried.” Looking at the haggard man I loved, my heart broke for him. I agreed. But the moment the ink was dry, he posted a wedding photo on his social media feed. With his first love. And there, beaming in the picture right beside them, was his supposedly dying mother. 1 “Zoe, when the hell did you and Ethan get divorced?” My best friend Maya’s brow was furrowed, her eyes clouded with worry. “Something this huge happens, and you don’t even tell me?” I was baffled, the question itself feeling absurd. Ethan and I had agreed our “divorce” was a secret, a performance for his mother. How could Maya possibly know? “Where did you hear that?” I asked, my voice laced with confusion. Maya’s eyes widened, her voice climbing in disbelief. “Where did I hear it? Ethan posted his new marriage certificate on his feed for the whole world to see! How could you not know?” She kept talking, but her words dissolved into a dull roar in my ears. The only phrase that cut through the noise was Ethan posted his marriage certificate. Everything else was static. Impossible. A knot of dread tightened in my stomach. “You’re kidding, right?” My voice trembled, a fragile, hopeful question in the face of a looming disaster. My relationship with Ethan had always been solid. Or so I thought. When he’d asked me for the fake divorce, the grief on his face had been so real. I remembered every pained expression, every tremor in his voice. How could he have been getting married to someone else? But Maya’s next words were a hammer blow, shattering the last of my denial. “I’m not joking, Zoe. It’s real.” Panic seized me. My hands fumbled for my phone, fingers shaking as I frantically dialed Ethan’s number. The line connected, but only to a cold, robotic voice: “The person you are calling is currently on another line.” I switched to our message history, a new wave of nausea hitting me as I scrolled. I hadn’t noticed before, but he hadn’t replied in days. The screen was a one-sided conversation—just me, sharing little moments from my day, whispering words of love into a void. Each message was now a monument to my own foolishness. Still clinging to a shred of hope, I tried to check his social media, only to find he’d blocked me. Maya sent me the picture. My hand trembled so violently it took several tries to tap it open. The woman in the photo was Serena. Ethan’s college girlfriend. I’d met her once, at my own wedding. She’d shown up in a designer gown, standing so close to Ethan she looked more like the bride than I did. I’d asked him about it later, if there was still something between them. He had denied it instantly, his voice firm and reassuring. But now, here they were, their smiles radiant, their bodies pressed together against a festive, celebratory backdrop. That brilliant red background felt like a blade twisting in my heart. Tears blurred my vision, hot and unstoppable. “Ethan, answer me!” I typed, my fingers flying across the screen. “You wouldn’t lie to me, would you? This is all fake, right?” “You didn’t marry someone else. Tell me you didn’t.” My messages sank into the digital abyss, unanswered. I broke. A hollowed-out, disoriented version of myself drove to the hospital, only to be told by the front desk that Ethan’s mother had never been a patient there. When Ethan told me his mother was sick, his voice had cracked with emotion. He’d barely been able to get the words out. In just a few days, he had lost so much weight he looked like a ghost. My heart had ached for him. Was it all an act? A meticulously crafted lie? If he wanted out, why couldn’t he just tell me? I wasn’t the kind of woman to cling to a man who didn’t want me. I desperately needed to find him, to hear the truth from his own lips. It was only then that I realized something chilling: aside from the brief period his mother had stayed with us, I didn’t even know where he lived. His family home was a mystery to me. My only option was his office. But when I got there, his colleagues told me he’d taken a leave of absence. For his wedding. The irony was a bitter pill to swallow. When Ethan and I were planning our own wedding, I’d handled everything alone—from buying and renovating our apartment to choosing my dress and decorating the venue. He was always “too busy with work” to take time off. Now I understood. It wasn’t that he couldn’t take leave. It was that I wasn’t important enough to be worth his time. Sometimes, the less you know, the more obsessed you become with finding the answer. I took a leave from my own job and began a frantic search. I went to every place I could think of—our old haunts, his favorite bars, the parks we used to walk in. He was nowhere. It was like he had vanished from the earth. In the end, it was Maya who told me when the wedding was. And so, for the first time since our “divorce,” I finally saw Ethan again. At his wedding to another woman. I stood among the guests, a ghost at the feast, and watched as he slid a diamond ring onto Serena’s finger. The smile on his face was brighter than the sun, a dazzling, blinding light that seared my eyes. His mother, the woman who was supposed to be on her deathbed, stood beside him, beaming with pride and vitality. Gone was the woman who looked at me with nothing but contempt. “Ethan!” My voice was a raw, ragged thing, torn by anger and grief. He flinched, his body going rigid. Slowly, he turned. The brilliant smile on his face evaporated the instant he saw me, replaced by a flash of panic. His mother reacted instantly, rushing towards me and shoving me hard. “Keep the ceremony moving!” she barked at the officiant, trying to push me away. “Don’t let this ruin the happy occasion.” I sidestepped her, my eyes locked on Ethan. They were burning, and I could feel the tears welling up again. “What is going on?” I demanded, my voice rising with every step I took towards the altar. “You said it was a fake divorce! You said your mother was dying and you just wanted her to find peace!” With each step, the pain in my chest intensified. By the time I reached him, the tears were streaming down my face. He stood there in his perfectly tailored tuxedo, as handsome as the day I first met him. But looking at him now, he was a complete stranger. Time had flown by, but the most painful truth was that he was no longer the man who had once loved me with all his heart. Maya was right beside me, a protective barrier against the curious, whispering crowd, clearing a path until I stood directly in front of him. “Zoe,” he said, his voice strained, his eyes darting around nervously. “Can we please talk about this after the wedding? It’s not what you think. I can explain.” A bitter, humorless laugh escaped my lips. “Explain? Or are you just trying to trick me again so I don’t ruin your perfect day, Ethan?” We stood in a tense standoff, the air crackling around us. Then, Serena stepped forward, looping her arm through Ethan’s. She looked at me with the smug condescension of a victor. “Before you blame Ethan,” she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness, “maybe you should take a look at yourself, Zoe. You were married for five years and couldn’t even give him a child. My son—our son—is already five years old.” “What?” The world tilted on its axis. I felt like I’d been struck by lightning, frozen in place, my mind a hollow cavern of white noise. But Maya, never one to hold back, exploded. “You absolute scumbags!” she screamed, her voice echoing through the silent hall. “You were cheating on her five years ago? You had a kid with another woman and then you married Zoe? What kind of monster are you, Ethan? You goddamn bastard!” Ethan and I had been together since college. After graduation, I had left everything behind—my family, my hometown—to build a life with him in his city. In the beginning, he was wonderful. He did all the chores, treated me with tenderness and care. But over time, he grew distant. He’d told me that passionate love naturally cools into the comfortable quiet of family life, that it didn’t need constant effort. And like a fool, I believed him. Now I knew the truth. His love hadn’t cooled. It had simply been given to someone else. All I’d ever gotten were the lukewarm leftovers. “Ethan,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. A deep, penetrating chill was spreading through my veins, extinguishing the fire of my anger. “Is it true?” He wouldn’t meet my eyes. He just stared at the floor and mumbled a faint, “Yes.” “Okay,” I said, the single word feeling like a final exhalation. “I understand.” My heart had turned to ice. I turned to Maya. “Let’s go.” I had to salvage what little dignity I had left. But as we turned to leave, Ethan lunged forward, leaving Serena at the altar. He grabbed my arm, his voice desperate. “Zoe, wait. There’s a reason for all this. I’m sorry. Please don’t be angry.” “I’ll come find you after the ceremony,” he pleaded. “I’ll explain everything.” “Explain what?” Maya snapped, shoving his hand off me and pulling me towards the exit. She cursed him the entire way back, a furious, protective tirade. I knew she was trying to make me feel better, but I couldn’t hear a thing. I was numb. When she pulled up to her apartment building, I finally broke the silence. “You can go on up, Maya,” I said, my voice eerily calm. “I’m going to go pack my things. I’ll come over when I’m done.” “Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?” she asked, her face a mask of concern. I managed a weak smile. “I’ll be fine. I promise.” We could at least part with some grace. I, Zoe, could handle losing. Besides, what was once a fake divorce was now very, very real. And there were things I would not let go of. The apartment we lived in was mine, bought and paid for in full before we ever got married. It was my property, and it was time to cash out. I was going to sell it, take the money, and go home to my parents. The day a potential buyer came to see the place, Ethan showed up. The moment he saw another man in my living room, he didn’t even ask. He just exploded. “Zoe! We agreed it was a fake divorce! Are you already so desperate you’re bringing other men into our home?” I ignored him, calmly rescheduling with the buyer and politely showing him to the door. But Ethan blocked the doorway, his face a thundercloud. “Nobody is leaving until we get this straight.” Back when we were dating, I had seen his flaws as charming quirks. Now, without the filter of love, I saw him for what he was: utterly obnoxious. “We are divorced, Ethan,” I said, my voice cold and flat. “You have no right to tell me what to do.” I pushed past him, apologized again to the buyer, and closed the door behind him. When I turned back, Ethan was still standing in the entryway, his face contorted in a mask of righteous anger. “Zoe, we agreed! It was supposed to be a temporary divorce!” I stared at him like he was insane. “Did you forget you just got married again?” “I had no choice! And my marriage to Serena is fake, too! The kid was an accident, I swear, I didn’t know how it happened. My mom found out about him somehow, and she used her ‘dying wish’ to see her grandchild have a proper family.” He spewed his excuses, a torrent of self-serving nonsense, as if I was the one being unreasonable for not understanding. But none of it mattered anymore. I didn’t want to hear it. Besides, his mother had looked perfectly healthy at the wedding. “Ethan, since this is a real divorce now, we need to divide our assets. I’ve already contacted a lawyer.” I took a deep breath. “As for this apartment, it’s mine. I’m selling it. Don’t come back here again.”

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When Joshua married me, everyone congratulated him. He had finally married the girl of his dreams. Only I knew the truth. This wasn’t a dream fulfilled. It was revenge. Three years ago, on the day Joshua proposed, his father met with me. An hour later, he jumped from the roof of a skyscraper. In an instant, Joshua’s adoration for me curdled into a bottomless hatred. After we were married, he used every method imaginable to torture the truth out of me, but I kept my silence. It wasn’t until he personally destroyed the child growing inside me that my heart finally broke. Only then did I tell him everything. When he learned the truth, regret shattered him. He fell to his knees, crying, begging me for forgiveness. But a dead heart, and a dead child… they can’t be brought back to life. 1. I had two hours left. Two hours before the kidnappers’ deadline expired. By the time I reached Joshua’s office, it was the dead of night. Only his executive assistant was there, tidying his desk. I threw open the door, all pretense of politeness gone. “Where is he?” She paused, glanced up at me, then went back to arranging papers. “This is Mr. Green’s personal time. I’m not at liberty to disclose his location.” I stalked forward and slammed my hand down on the files, my voice trembling despite my best efforts. “Where. Is. Joshua?” The assistant, Dina, slid her hand out from under mine and smiled sweetly. “If you really want to know, why don’t you get on your knees and beg me?” “Fine.” I dropped to my knees without a second thought. “I’m begging you. Please, tell me where he is.” Her smile widened, triumphant. “Mrs. Green, if you don’t know where your husband is, how would I?” The dam of my control finally broke. I bit back a sob, wiping furiously at my eyes as I grabbed her hands. “Please, I’m begging you, there’s no time! My son has been kidnapped! Please, just tell me where Joshua is, please!” She wrenched her hands away. “Leo isn’t Joshua’s son. What does his life or death have to do with Mr. Green?” Her tone shifted, becoming sharp and calculating. “Unless… you agree to divorce him. After all, that position was never meant for you.” “Yes, okay, anything. I’ll sign whatever you want, just tell me where he is.” Her eyes lit up. “Really?” The address she gave me was for a private club. It was one in the morning by the time I arrived. One hour left. I burst through the door and found Joshua, a half-empty glass of whiskey in his hand. He looked up, startled to see me. “Leo’s been taken,” I gasped, grabbing his arm. “They want two hundred thousand dollars. There’s less than an hour. Please, Joshua, you have to help me.” He glanced down at my hand on his arm, then let out a short, contemptuous laugh. “Are you confused, Thea? That little bastard isn’t my son. What does he have to do with me? Why should I help you?” My knees gave out, and I sank to the floor. “I know you hate me. You can do whatever you want to me, but please… please, save Leo.” Joshua’s body tensed. He gestured casually to a bottle of red wine on the table. “Down that in one go. Maybe then I’ll be feeling merciful.” I didn’t hesitate. I grabbed the bottle and tilted it back, chugging the entire thing as the men around him cheered and catcalled. “Damn, Green, you’ve really got her trained.” Their crude jokes were a dull buzz in my ears. All I could think about was Leo. When the bottle was empty, a fiery heat bloomed in my cheeks. I looked up at him. “Is that enough?” Before he could answer, my phone rang. My hand trembled as I answered. “You fucking called the cops?!” a gravelly voice roared. “You’ll never see your son again!” The line went dead. I tried to call back, but the phone was off. My body started to shake uncontrollably, my mind a terrifying blank. Leo, my baby, please be okay. But it was just a desperate wish. My phone rang again. I was too weak, too numb, to even answer it. Joshua took it from my shaking hand. “Is this Leo Sterling’s mother?” a grim voice said on the other end. “We’re very sorry. By the time we arrived, the suspect was cornered. He threw the child from the roof. You need to get to the hospital.” The rest of the words blurred into a meaningless drone. The world tilted, spinning violently. Joshua reached out to steady me. I shoved him away with all my strength. “Are you happy now, Joshua?!” I screamed, my voice raw with agony. “Is this what you wanted?” “What are you talking about, Thea? I didn’t call the police. Why are you blaming me for this?” “Ninety-eight,” I choked out, a hysterical laugh bubbling in my throat. “I called you ninety-eight times. With every single call, I prayed you would pick up. But I forgot… how could I forget?” “You’re Joshua Green. The man who hates my guts.” 2. At the hospital, they told me Leo had survived. The relief was so profound it felt like I was the one who had been pulled back from the brink of death. He had been thrown from the roof of an unfinished building. On the way down, his fall was broken by a construction safety net. He was just a child, his small body light enough that the net had held. Any heavier, and it would have been a different story. Still, even with the net, the impact had been brutal. His leg, arm, and neck were fractured. But he was alive. He lay in the hospital bed, his small body encased in plaster casts, looking up at me with wide, worried eyes. “Mommy, why are your eyes so red?” “You scared me, sweetie. I thought I was going to lose you.” “Never, Mommy. I’ll always be with you.” His little brow furrowed. “Did Uncle Joshua hurt you again? Is that why you’re crying?” I shook my head, but the tears came anyway. He reached up with his good hand and awkwardly tried to wipe them away. “Uncle Joshua is mean. We don’t need him. I want a daddy who makes you smile. If no one can make you smile, then I just want you, Mommy. Just us.” “How touching. A real testament to motherly love.” Joshua’s voice, dripping with sarcasm, cut through the quiet room. He stood in the doorway, his eyes cold. Leo’s small body went rigid, his eyes immediately wary. I wiped my tears and stood, pulling Joshua out into the hallway. Once I saw through the window that Leo had settled back down, I lowered my voice. “What do you want?” He held up a crumpled piece of paper—the divorce agreement I’d had Dina draw up. “Did I or did I not tell you that you don’t have the right to divorce me?” He ripped it into pieces and threw them on the floor. “You were the one who begged me to marry you. Now you’re the one who wants a divorce. Thea, do you really think you’re in any position to make demands?” I stared at the shredded paper. When Leo needed a kidney transplant, I had just returned to the country with no money and no connections. That’s when Joshua had appeared. He’d told me that if I married him, he would find the best specialists, get Leo to the top of the donor list, and cover every penny of the astronomical medical bills. I was desperate. I knew it could be a trap, but for Leo, I would have walked into anything. The years of our marriage were a blur of his calculated cruelty. I told myself it was a debt I was repaying. People whispered that I was his pet, that I came running whenever he crooked his finger. For years, I had let him trample all over my dignity. But I was so, so tired. “I don’t owe you anything, Joshua.” He laughed, a harsh, grating sound. He grabbed the front of my shirt. “How dare you say that? Have you forgotten that if my father hadn’t taken you and your sister in, you’d be rotting in some orphanage? You ungrateful viper. He never should have brought you into our home.” My hand trembled as I shoved him away, my own control fraying. “Don’t you talk about my sister! You have no right!” My voice was a raw whisper, but my eyes met his without flinching. “I don’t owe your family anything. And I don’t owe you.” Joshua’s shoulders shook with suppressed laughter. He reached up and patted my cheek, his touch a mockery of affection. “Don’t owe us? My father’s death is on your hands. Do you think just because the police couldn’t find any evidence, you’re innocent? You’re wrong. This marriage is your prison, Thea. A chain that will hold you until the truth comes out. You are never leaving.” His hatred was a physical force in the sterile hospital corridor, a hand that reached out and dragged me back into the past. 3. Three years ago, on the day of our college graduation, Joshua had planned a surprise proposal. He had spent weeks meticulously planning every detail, his heart full of hope and excitement. That same day, his father, Marcus, jumped from the tallest building in Ashton City. I was there. The security footage showed me standing more than thirty feet away from him. The audio was useless, but the video was clear. Marcus Green had closed his eyes and stepped off the ledge. The ruling was suicide. Overnight, the Green empire crumbled. Business partners vanished. Creditors came knocking, splashing red paint on the doors and windows of the family mansion. Joshua found me in my room, my suitcase packed. “Aren’t you going to say anything to me?” he asked, his voice hollow. I looked at the chaos around us. “What do you want to hear?” “Why did he jump?” My grip on my suitcase tightened. “The police already told you.” “What did you say to him?!” He lunged forward, his fingers digging into my shoulders. “Thea, tell me. Please, I’m begging you.” I looked up into his eyes, swimming with a despair so deep it threatened to drown us both. “Joshua,” I whispered, my own voice shaking. “Let’s break up.” He staggered back as if I’d struck him. “Why? Thea, what happened? Why did my dad kill himself? Why are you leaving me? Why now?” I pried his fingers from my shoulders, one by one, forcing a cold mask onto my face. “I don’t love you anymore.” “No. No, that’s not true. Tell me what’s really going on. I’ll believe you, whatever it is. Just… please, don’t leave me now. I don’t know what to do. Don’t abandon me…” Outside, the wind howled. “Your father is dead,” I said, my voice as brittle as glass. “Look at this house. It’s a garbage dump. What is there for me to stay for? Did you expect me to stick around and be poor with you?” “That’s not you, Thea. You’re not like that.” “People change, Joshua.” I turned and walked toward the door. He threw a small, red box. It hit me squarely in the back, the sharp corner digging into my spine. The pain was so intense it felt like my heart was seizing. A tiny, metallic clink sounded on the floor. A diamond ring rolled to a stop at my feet. “Thea! I’m giving you one last chance. What did my father say to you that day? Just tell me the truth. I’ll believe you.” I stopped, my eyes fixed on the glittering diamond. Then I looked away. “Your father killed himself,” I said, each word a separate stone. “It had nothing to do with me. And as for us…” “I just got bored.” The wind was screaming that day. I walked for a long, long time, my legs aching, my heart shattered. The sand kicked up by the wind stung my eyes. For years after, I was trapped in a recurring nightmare. In the dream, Joshua would be on the rooftop, watching his father fall, and then he would turn to me and ask, “Why?” And Marcus, covered in blood, would ask, “Are you happy now?” I would always wake up drenched in a cold sweat. 4. Over the years, Joshua never stopped investigating. He watched the surveillance footage hundreds of times. He even hired a lip-reading expert. The expert determined that the last words Marcus Green ever said were: I promise you. Because my back was to the camera, no one knew what I had said. No one knew what Marcus had promised me just moments before his death. The fact that I broke up with Joshua on the same day was, in his mind, irrefutable proof of my guilt. I thought I would never see him again. But then Leo got sick, and our lives became entangled once more. I knew this marriage was his revenge. It was my penance. But even the deepest debts are eventually paid. I handed him a newly printed divorce agreement. He just laughed. “How many times do I have to tell you? You don’t get to leave. Unless… you tell me the truth about that day. Then, consider this my wedding gift to you.” “You already know the truth,” I said. He lunged, his hands closing around my neck. The world went dark at the edges as the pressure mounted. “Thea, I never realized just how cruel you are. You disgust me.” He released me. I collapsed, coughing, gasping for air. “You’re never getting away,” he snarled. “You will stay by my side and pay for what you did to my family for the rest of your life.” He ripped at my clothes, his touch brutal, suffocating. Our intimacy was never about love. It was always just a release for his rage. I closed my eyes, tears leaking from the corners. “Joshua, please,” I begged. “Let me go.” His teeth sank into my shoulder. “This is what you owe me,” he hissed against my skin. “Unless you tell me why my father died.” I squeezed my eyes shut. The truth… the truth would only bring more pain.

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1 The fourth year of my marriage to Amelia was the year the company started to die. To save the firm from bankruptcy, she recruited a top-tier project manager from overseas, a man who’d landed nine-figure deals. The day he came in to sign his contract, I saw the butterfly tattoo on his wrist. The color drained from my face. I vetoed his hiring on the spot. When Amelia found out, she exploded. We had the worst fight of our marriage. Seeing she was determined to hire him anyway, I told her I was resigning. And I wanted a divorce. She stared at me, her face a mask of disbelief. “Because of a tattoo? Julian, we don’t have a policy against tattoos!” The project manager himself, Adrian, stepped forward. “If the tattoo bothers you, I can have it removed.” “See?” Amelia pleaded. “He’s being more than reasonable. Stop making a scene.” A bitter laugh escaped my lips. “Fine. As long as you sign the divorce papers, you can give him the whole damn company for all I care.” … My words hit Amelia like a physical blow. “Julian, I know you’re upset that I’m putting him in your position, but you’re the one who said you’d do anything to save this company!” she shot back, her voice shaking with frustration. “You were on board with this yesterday. What is your problem now?!” She looked at me as if I’d lost my mind. I didn’t offer an explanation. I just repeated my ultimatum, my voice cold and flat. “If you hire him, we get a divorce.” I watched her, my eyes fixed on her face, searching for any flicker of the woman I’d married. Before today, Amelia and I were the couple everyone envied—the model of a perfect partnership. We always chose each other, even when business and personal interests collided. But today, she wasn’t budging. Not an inch. After a long, tense silence, she tried to reason with me again, her tone softening. “Julian, please. Adrian is incredibly talented. With him, we can pull the company out of this crisis. It’s not about the tattoo. We don’t have rules against things like that, you know that.” I nodded slowly as a flicker of relief crossed her face. Then I pulled out my phone. I made a call. “I need a divorce agreement drawn up,” I said into the receiver. “Have it messengered to my office. Now.” Amelia’s face froze. The air in the room turned to ice. Finally, Adrian broke the silence. “Mr. Hayes,” he said, his voice smooth and conciliatory. “To be honest, this tattoo has special meaning to me. I got it with my first love.” He paused, then added with a sigh, as if making a great sacrifice, “But if you’re this opposed to it, I’ll have it removed. However…” He let the word hang in the air. “If I’m not welcome here, I’m not so desperate for a job that I have to stay.” That was all it took. Amelia snapped. “That’s enough, Julian!” she cried, her voice cracking. “This company isn’t just yours to throw away! I won’t let you! Adrian turned down every other offer to come back here and work for us. How can you be so cruel?” Her voice rose, taking on a righteous edge. “Think about our employees! They have families to feed! Even if you want to fight with me, can’t you at least consider them?” At her words, the employees who had been trying to fade into the background suddenly found their voices. “Amelia’s right. The company’s in trouble. Why won’t Mr. Hayes agree?” “I’ve been here three years. I’ve seen enough of their PDA to last a lifetime, but I’ve never seen them fight like this.” “You think he’s just afraid of being replaced? Is that why he’s being so dramatic?” I heard that and felt a muscle in my jaw twitch. Of course, not everyone was against me. “I don’t think Director Hayes is like that,” someone countered. “He’s always been good to us, never pulled rank. Maybe there’s something else going on.” “That doesn’t matter!” another shot back. “Whatever his personal issue is, the company has to come first. Amelia is working herself to the bone, and he’s throwing a tantrum. Men…” They didn’t bother to lower their voices, making sure Amelia heard every word. It was obvious who they thought held the power, who they needed to please. But they had no idea. Without me, Amelia’s company would have crashed and burned years ago. And I hadn’t forgotten the flicker of guilt on Amelia’s face the first time I mentioned the tattoo. She had made her choice. Now, I would stick to mine. Just then, Amelia’s voice cut through the gossip. “Quiet!” she snapped. “Have you all forgotten? You will show Julian the same respect you show me. Always.” She turned back to me, her expression softening. “Okay, stop this,” she said, her voice gentle, almost cooing. “Julian, I promise you, no one is going to threaten your position here. Let’s just get Adrian onboarded, and we can talk about the rest at home.” I looked at her, but the man who loved her was gone. All that was left was ice. “No need. Once the lawyer gets here with the papers, we’ll be done.” I turned to go back to my office and pack my things. Behind me, there was a loud crash as something hit the floor. “Julian! Don’t push me!” Amelia’s voice was dangerously low. “If you can’t see what’s important right now, then you can go home and think about it. When you’ve come to your senses, you can come back.” I heard the threat, the raw power play in her words, but I didn’t turn around. She still thought I was bluffing. She even had security escort me out so I wouldn’t interfere with Adrian’s paperwork. A humorless smile touched my lips. I left, just as she wanted. Back home, I went straight to our photo albums and found Amelia’s college pictures. There it was. A butterfly tattoo on her wrist, a perfect match to the one on Adrian’s. A couple’s tattoo. I remembered asking her about it once. I’d seen a similar design at the construction site where my father had his accident. She’d brushed it off, saying she’d just thought it looked cool and had slapped on a temporary one for fun. I’d had my doubts, but when I checked her wrist, there was no trace of ink, so I’d let it go. Now, I flipped to her graduation photo. And there he was, standing a few feet away from her in the class picture. Adrian. My blood ran cold. I picked up the phone. “I need you to look into something for me.” Shortly after I hung up, the lawyer arrived with the divorce agreement. He also brought the share transfer documents I’d requested. If we were divorcing, we were settling everything. I had no intention of staying with the firm; selling my shares was the cleanest break. I was on the phone with a couple of the older board members when Amelia came home. Trailing right behind her, carrying a suitcase, was Adrian. She saw me looking and offered a bright, brittle smile. “Adrian just got back to the country and hasn’t found a place yet. I told him he could stay with us for a few days. You don’t mind, do you?” The sheer audacity of it was almost funny. She brings him into our home and then asks for my opinion? Did she think I had amnesia? We had just had a marriage-ending fight at the office a few hours ago, and here she was, acting as if nothing had happened. When I didn’t answer, she walked over to me. “Are you still mad about what happened at the office?” she asked softly. “Come on, honey. Just tell me what you want, and I’ll do anything to make this right. Okay?” Her voice was a velvet purr, her eyes full of promises. A year ago, a week ago, that would have been enough to melt my anger away. Not today. “Sign the divorce papers,” I said, my voice flat. “Then you can hire him, move him in, do whatever you want. It will have nothing to do with me.” Amelia fell silent, at a loss for words. Adrian, ever the helpful observer, stepped in. “Amelia, I hate to interfere in your personal life, but I can’t just stand by and watch this. You’re humbling yourself for him, and he’s being completely unreasonable. He’s just being petty.” He shot a pointed look at me. “You’re doing what’s best for the company. He doesn’t see it now, but he will once things turn around.” He was trying to poison her against me right to my face, a smug, challenging look in his eyes. Amelia just frowned, not responding to him. She looked at me. “Julian, that’s enough. I have a mountain of problems to deal with at the office. I don’t have time for these games.” “Fine,” I nodded. “Let me know when you’re ready to be serious.” I picked up the suitcase I had already packed. Her face hardened, her patience completely gone. “Julian, if you walk out that door, don’t bother coming back.” I glanced at her one last time, a detached smile on my face. That was the plan. I left our house and drove to the small apartment I grew up in. My father had bought it when I was in school. It was modest, but it was warm, filled with memories I cherished. After he died, I could never bring myself to sell it, but I hadn’t been able to face coming back here, either. A thick layer of dust covered everything. It took me hours to clean the place. Just as I finished, I got a text from Amelia. [You want a divorce? Fine. My office. Tomorrow. 2 PM.] I frowned. It felt wrong. She’d changed her mind too quickly. Was it a trap? There was only one way to find out. The next day, when I arrived at the office, Amelia’s secretary blocked my path. “Amelia is in a meeting with Director Adrian about work. She said she’s not to be disturbed unless it’s urgent.” I used to walk into her office without ever knocking. It was true what they said. When the first love returns, everyone else has to get out of the way. But for me, this wasn’t about love anymore. It was about finding the truth behind my father’s death. “Okay,” I said, turning to leave. Just then, a ripple of laughter came from inside the office. It didn’t sound like they were talking business. It sounded like they were flirting. The door swung open, and Adrian stepped out. “Ah, Julian. You’re here. Amelia has been waiting for you.” I gave him a cold look and started to walk past him. As I did, he leaned in and whispered, his voice dripping with malice. “You must be dying to know how your father really died, aren’t you?” I whipped my head around to see the taunting smirk on his face. My fists had been clenched since the moment I saw his tattoo. I had planned to wait, to gather all my evidence before I made a move. But he had just crossed a line. I didn’t hesitate. I swung, my fist connecting with his jaw. The secretary screamed. I hit him again. As I drew my arm back for a third punch, Amelia rushed out and shoved me away. She helped Adrian to his feet, her face dark with fury. “What is going on?” Adrian, looking the very picture of innocence, stammered, “I was just trying to ask him to speak with you calmly, and he just… he just started hitting me.” The words were barely out of his mouth before Amelia’s hand cracked across my face. “Have you lost your mind?” she hissed. “Apologize. Now. This is a place of business, not your personal playground.” Apologize to him? Not in this lifetime. I wasn’t just going to make him apologize. I was going to send him to prison. But I couldn’t say that yet. It would tip my hand, give him a chance to run. Adrian, ever the bigger man, said, “It’s okay, Amelia. It’s understandable that Mr. Hayes wouldn’t accept me. I’ll just get back to work. You two should talk.” The more reasonable he acted, the more unhinged I appeared. Once he was gone, Amelia glared at me. “In my office.” I walked in and dropped the divorce papers on her desk. “Sign it.” She ignored them. “So, after a night to cool off, this is still what you want? To throw our marriage away?” It was clear then. She hadn’t called me here to sign anything. A cold laugh escaped me. “What do you really want, Amelia?” “Julian, everything I’m doing is for the company. I don’t want to fight with you. Just move back home, and we can pretend none of this ever happened.” Without a word, I picked up the papers and turned to leave. “Wait!” She finally relented. “Fine. You want me to sign? Then you need to be at the new product launch tomorrow.” A product launch? This was the first I’d heard of it. It had to be something she and Adrian had cooked up. And if they wanted me there, it wasn’t for a good reason. Whatever they were planning, I’d find out tomorrow. The next day, the venue was swarming with reporters. Amelia’s company had done well over the years, and its recent troubles had made it a hot topic. Rumors were flying that the place was cursed. We hadn’t made any public statements. Until today. Amelia took the stage and addressed the crowd, a series of photos flashing on the screen behind her—pictures of me, looking stressed, meeting with various people over the last few weeks. “The reason our company is facing a crisis,” she announced, her voice filled with practiced sorrow, “is because my husband, Julian Hayes, leaked confidential company secrets.” I had braced myself for something, but even so, the bald-faced lie was stunning. For a moment, I just felt a strange urge to laugh. Our eyes met across the room. Her look was clear: This is your punishment for being difficult. A cold fire burned in my chest. She had no idea what was coming. She looked away, her expression turning to one of deep sadness. “I don’t know why he would do this, but we have terminated his position and brought on a new, brilliant project manager. We are very excited for the future!”

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My stepsister, Grace, took her entire class on a wilderness expedition in Africa, only to be ambushed by a remote, uncontacted tribe. She was in mortal danger. And me? I’m the only internationally certified wilderness expert of my caliber. Ten years of experience under my belt, with deep ties to chieftains across the continent. My father got Grace’s last desperate SOS and called me immediately. “Your sister ran into hostiles in the jungle. I need you on a plane, now. You’re leading the rescue.” I hung up without a word. When my stepmother couldn’t reach me, panicked for her daughter’s life, she rallied the other parents and stormed my apartment, kicking the door clean off its hinges. She froze, finding herself face-to-face with two uniformed police officers. I gave her a little wave, rattling the silver cuffs on my wrists. “Sorry,” I said with a thin smile. “My hands are tied.” 1. “Skylar, pack your things! Your father has a helicopter on standby. We can leave this instant!” my stepmother, Catherine, shrieked as she burst into my living room. “Grace was attacked by a native tribe in Africa! They’re saying there are cannibals out there, and all communication is down. We don’t know if she’s dead or alive!” Her frantic tirade stopped dead when she saw the gleaming steel locked around my wrists. She stared, dumbfounded. One of the officers beside me frowned, clearly annoyed by the intrusion. “Ma’am, please don’t interfere with police business.” “Wh-what?” “We received a complaint that this woman,” the officer gestured to me, “defrauded someone of five hundred dollars in an online romance scam. We have enough to bring her in for questioning. She’s coming with us.” I offered a placating smile and prepared to leave with them, but Catherine snapped out of her stupor. “No!” she screamed, grabbing my arm. “You can’t go! Grace is waiting for you to save her!” Tears streamed down her face. “What will happen to my daughter? She’s only eighteen! What if those… those savages get their hands on her?” I looked at her, my expression blank, completely devoid of the panic she expected. “Why are you coming to me? This is a job for the authorities. Call the police.” “Liam is a cop,” I added pointedly. “You should be calling him, not me.” Liam was Grace’s boyfriend. It was only fitting that he be the one to ride to her rescue. Besides, his skills in a fight far surpassed my own. The moment I said his name, Catherine’s fingers dug into my arm like talons. “Of course I know Liam’s a cop! But he’s never set foot in Africa! He doesn’t speak a word of the local dialects. How can I trust him to save Grace?” she hissed. “You’re the only one who can bring her back safely.” Her voice softened into a desperate, wheedling tone. “She’s your sister, Skylar. You grew up with her. How can you not be worried? She’s out there, hungry, cold, with nowhere to sleep…” I wrenched my arm free, my brow furrowed in annoyance. “I have to go with the officers. Don’t hold them up.” Seeing that I was ignoring her, she frantically dialed my father. The second the call connected, his furious roar filled the room. “Skylar, you ungrateful brat! Your sister could be dead or alive out there, and you’re just sitting at home, doing nothing?” “I’ve booked you a flight for tonight. You get your ass over there and assist the rescue, or I swear to God, you’re no longer my daughter. The Rhodes family will not have a disgrace like you!” I let out a cold laugh and shook my wrists, the handcuffs clinking musically. “Sorry, Dad. Can’t. I’ve got a date with a detective downtown. Got a statement to give.” Silence. I snorted and turned to leave with the officers. Just as I stepped over the threshold, Catherine’s voice, sharp and calculating, cut through the air behind me. “Skylar, it’s not just Grace who’s trapped. It’s her entire class—over forty students. Nearly half the group is missing with her.” She gestured to the crowd of anxious parents who had followed her here. “Look at them. These are the mothers and fathers of the missing. All these lives hanging in the balance, waiting for a savior. Can you really just stand there and do nothing?” 2. “Not my problem,” I said flatly, and walked away. Catherine’s shriek of pure rage echoed behind me, but she could only watch as the police led me away. I knew she wouldn’t give up, but the first person to visit me at the precinct wasn’t her. It was Liam. He set a cup of warm water in front of me. I didn’t touch it. He sat down, his face a mask of grim professionalism. “Grace’s situation is critical, Skylar. All their communications are dead. For all we know, she’s…” He trailed off, unable to finish. “The tribe in their last known location is notoriously hostile. There are old rumors of cannibalism—even the local government can’t control them. If they’ve captured her, it’s a death sentence.” He spoke with an urgent, breathless intensity. I just found it boring. “I see,” I said. My lack of reaction clearly stunned him. “What’s wrong with you, Skylar? That’s your sister out there! How can you be so cold?” I almost laughed. “A stepsister, Liam. And what happens to her has nothing to do with me.” “You—!” “Skylar, you are the best professional explorer in the country. I’ve read your files. You have extensive experience in high-risk extractions, and I know for a fact you’re on friendly terms with several African chieftains.” He started scribbling on a whiteboard, trying to map out a strategy, trying to convince me. “If you go, you can save them. I know you can.” When he saw my indifferent expression, his tone shifted from persuasion to command. “As a citizen, it is your duty to cooperate with this operation. I can officially compel you to assist.” How pathetic. I wasn’t some rookie he could intimidate. His posturing had zero effect on me. “Seriously? You, a cop, are going to lecture me about civic duty? Don’t try to pull rank on me, Liam,” I scoffed. “You can talk until you’re blue in the face, but I’m not going. If she dies, she dies. Sounds like bad luck, but again, not my problem.” My callousness finally broke him. His hands clenched into tight fists. He took a deep breath, his eyes narrowing as a new thought seemed to occur to him. “Is this about what happened?” he asked, his voice low. “Are you still angry that I called off our engagement?” Years ago, Liam and I were engaged. Then he met Grace and fell for her, breaking off our engagement and making me the laughingstock of the city. He actually thought this was my petty revenge. Such an ego. I was about to tear him apart when the door was kicked open. My father stood there, holding a sobbing Catherine in his arms. She was clutching something. The moment she saw me, she lunged, her hand flying out and cracking against my cheek. Then she threw the object onto the table. “Give me back my Grace!” she wailed. “This is all your fault! Give her back!” My eyes widened as I saw what it was. How could this be? It was impossible. 3. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this… not in this life. On the table lay a piece of bloody fabric—a shirt. The pattern, the colors… it was the exact one Grace had been wearing the day she left for Africa. Catherine was convinced her daughter was dead, and she was channeling all her grief and rage directly at me. “You heartless, ungrateful snake! You have no soul! That was your sister, and you wouldn’t even lift a finger to save her!” she shrieked. “I bet you’re happy now, aren’t you? You can finally inherit all of your father’s money! My poor, darling girl!” She collapsed into a pitiable, trembling heap. My father held her, his gaze burning with fury as he looked at me. “Skylar, even with Grace gone, don’t think you’ll see a single dime from me,” he growled. “I’d rather donate every cent to charity, give it to the stray dogs on the street, than leave it to an emotionless bastard like you.” I frowned, a seed of doubt planting itself in my mind. In my past life, this never… Suddenly, I caught a flicker of cunning in Catherine’s eye. And in that instant, I understood. The panic in my chest vanished. Faced with their accusations, I just smiled serenely. “So? What does that have to do with me?” I asked. “She’s the one who was stupid enough to go playing explorer in Africa. If she got herself killed, she has no one to blame but herself.” Liam, who had been lost in his own grief, snapped his head up. My words ignited the fury in his heart. He lunged forward and slapped me, hard. The sharp crack echoed in the room. My left cheek immediately began to swell and throb. “Is that something a human being would say?” he roared, his voice thick with outrage. “Grace is gone! And you’re standing there spouting that garbage? How dare you! She was your sister! Maybe not by blood, but she was your family, the person you saw every single day!” “Skylar, I was so wrong about you,” he seethed, breathing heavily. “You’re nothing but a cold, soulless monster.” He finished, so choked with anger he could barely speak. The crowd of parents gathered at the door stared at me, their expressions a mixture of disgust and horror. “Can you believe her? A world-renowned explorer with years of rescue experience, and she just lets them die out there.” “And Grace was her own sister! While her sister was facing God knows what, she was here sleeping soundly. Some big sister.” “Those poor parents outside are crying their eyes out, practically begging her on their knees to help, and she won’t budge. She’s made of ice.” Liam glared at me with pure hatred, clutching the bloody shirt as if it were a sacred relic. His bloodshot eyes screamed that he wished I had died in Grace’s place. The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife when another officer suddenly entered the room. “Call from the rescue team in Africa.” Liam snatched the phone and put it on speaker. An excited voice crackled through. “Good news! We’ve made contact with the missing students! They’re alive!” “Miss Grace Rhodes is with them!” Catherine’s face lit up with overwhelming joy. “When can you bring her home?” she asked, her voice trembling. “When will she be safe?” The voice on the other end hesitated. “The situation is still extremely volatile. We need Ms. Skylar Rhodes’s assistance. Her experience and her local contacts are the only things that can guarantee Miss Rhodes’s safe return.” Every single person in the room heard those words. Catherine’s tear-swollen eyes locked onto me. “Skylar, I’m begging you. Name your price. Anything you want. If you bring Grace back, you can have my life!” My father roared, his patience gone. “Your mother is begging you, your sister is out there waiting! If you have any Rhodes blood in you at all, you will get on that plane to Africa right now!” Just then, an elderly woman stepped out from the crowd of parents. She shuffled forward and, without a word, dropped to her knees before me. “My granddaughter… she’s all I have left in this world,” she pleaded, tears streaming down her wrinkled face. “She’s trapped out there. I’m on my knees, begging you… please, bring my little girl back to me.” I glanced around at the sea of desperate faces. Liam stepped forward, his voice laced with contempt. “Skylar, can you still stand there and do nothing? Do you truly have no heart?” A cold smile touched my lips. “Fine,” I said. “I’ll help.” “But I have one condition.” 4. Hearing me agree, a wave of relief washed over Catherine’s face. But when I mentioned a condition, her expression hardened. “I want seventy percent of Rhodes Corp.” The room fell silent. Then, Catherine’s voice exploded in outrage, her finger jabbing at me. “Seventy percent? Why don’t you just ask your father to step down and make you CEO?” I gave a helpless shrug. “Your choice. I’m not forcing you. But if you refuse, you can just sit here and watch your precious daughter die.” “You… you monster!” Catherine trembled with rage. My father, looking defeated, finally made a decision. “Done,” he said through gritted teeth. “But the contract is only signed after Grace is back, safe and sound.” Catherine, fuming, had no choice but to agree. I drew up a detailed rescue plan, complete with topographical maps I sketched from memory. I designated Liam to lead the ground team. He looked at me, confused, but I just gave him an unreadable smile. My father had the share transfer agreement drafted. Everyone waited. Following my plan, Liam’s team quickly located a breach in the tribe’s perimeter. They moved in, and soon found Grace and the other students held captive. The video feed came online. Grace, however, didn’t look like a traumatized hostage. Her cheeks were rosy, her skin glowing. Liam, playing the hero, grinned triumphantly into the camera. “Mr. and Mrs. Rhodes, I have her! Grace’s safe!” he shouted. “It was all thanks to Skylar’s plan! Everything went off without a hitch, just like she said it would. We’ve got everyone!” At that moment, I took the share transfer agreement from the lawyer’s hands. I stared at the legal jargon and the astronomical numbers, feeling nothing. I signed the first letter of my name—S. And then, just as I knew she would, Catherine lunged forward and ripped the document to shreds. “Did you really think I’d let you win, Skylar?” she sneered, her face twisted in triumph. “Who do you think you are, trying to steal my daughter’s inheritance? You’re dreaming!” I watched her, my expression calm, my heart a frozen stone. She snorted. “You’re nothing but a motherless stray we took in. Letting you rescue Grace was a chance for you to prove your worth, not a negotiation.” She tore the last piece of the contract, her demeanor that of a common street thug. The other parents, seeing their own children were safe, dropped their desperate pretenses. The masks of civility fell away. “You’re a wilderness expert. It’s your duty to save our children when they’re in danger. You should have been the first one on that plane.” “That worthless trash. Making us beg and plead before she’d lift a finger. She really thinks she’s someone important.” I watched their ugly, ungrateful faces, a perfect mirror of what had happened in my last life. A wave of nausea rolled through me. Some of them looked like they wanted to hit me, to vent their frustrations on my body. They backed me into a corner, and I couldn’t stop the cold, bitter laugh building in my chest. Fine. If this is how you want to play it… then I don’t have to hold back anymore. The next second, the image on the large screen behind them flickered to life. What appeared there made their blood run cold and their faces turn ashen with terror. In moments, they would be the ones on their knees, begging for mercy.

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When my wife was in labor with our second child, the doctor called for the husband to come in for the delivery. I stood up, ready to go to her side, but the nurse called a different name. “Johnny? The husband? She’s ready for you.” I froze. Later, my wife, Chloe, explained she was just worried I’d be scared by the process, so she didn’t call for me. Thinking of the child she had just endured so much to give me, I let it go. But yesterday was our daughter Melissa’s one-month milestone. I suggested we take her for a professional photoshoot, but Chloe refused, saying she didn’t want to bother me while I was so busy with work. Then, at the office, I opened my phone and saw a new post from Johnny. It was a picture of him, Chloe, our son Leo, and our new daughter, Melissa. In the picture, they looked like a perfect family of four. And I… I felt like a stranger, a voyeur spying on a life that should have been mine. That night, I came home and asked for a divorce. She didn’t even take me seriously. “It’s just a few pictures, Ethan. Are you really going to throw our marriage away over this?” “Yes. I am.” 1. Chloe didn’t even look up from her phone. “So, Johnny was in the one-month photos. Is it really that big of a deal? He posted it to his story by accident, and I already made him take it down.” She scrolled, a small smile playing on her lips. “You’re a grown man, Ethan. Are you always going to pick fights over every little thing? If you’re not tired of it, I certainly am.” An accident. If Johnny hadn’t “accidentally” posted that picture, I wonder how much longer I would have been kept in the dark. So, her refusing my offer wasn’t about sparing me from work; it was because she wanted to take the photos with him. A bitter laugh escaped my lips. Chloe’s eyes remained glued to the screen, her smile widening at something she saw. On a sudden, reckless impulse, I snatched the phone from her hand. In all our years of marriage, built on what I thought was absolute trust, I had never once looked through her phone. The shock of it left her momentarily stunned. The screen was still on her social media page. I tapped her profile picture, and the first post I saw made my blood run cold. It was a gallery of Melissa’s one-month photos. Nine pictures. Johnny was in eight of them. The comments below were a sea of cheerful congratulations that burned my eyes. “Such a beautiful couple! And the baby is adorable.” “Wow, my daughter finally came to her senses and started looking at other people!” Chloe hadn’t corrected any of them. Her silence was an endorsement. Before I could scroll further, she lunged for the phone. “What the hell is wrong with you? Give it back!” I held it higher, a cold sneer on my face. “You said Johnny posted it by accident. What about you? This carefully curated nine-picture layout, with me specifically hidden from the post… was that an accident, too?” A flash of guilt crossed her face. She opened her mouth to argue, but a knock at the door cut her off. It was Johnny, standing there with a respectful smile. “Chloe, it’s about time we head out. Everything’s ready at the restaurant for the party. Your mom sent me to hurry you guys along.” Chloe instantly turned off the phone’s screen. “We’ll talk about this when we get back. You wouldn’t want to ruin our daughter’s party over something so small, would you?” she said, her voice low and threatening. “Go get Leo. He should be upstairs watching TV.” She then turned to Johnny, her expression softening instantly. “Thanks for coming to get us.” With her silent permission, Johnny expertly scooped our daughter into his arms. I just stood there, my legs feeling like they were cast in lead. Seeing my inaction, a flicker of annoyance crossed Chloe’s face. “Well? Are you going to get Leo, or do you want to make everyone wait?” I gritted my teeth, swallowing the words that were trying to claw their way up my throat. Hearing the commotion, our son, Leo, appeared at the railing on the second floor. He peeked his head over, saw Johnny, and his face lit up. He came bounding down the stairs. “Uncle Johnny!” I reached out to ruffle his hair, but he dodged my hand and darted behind Johnny, shooting me a look of pure disgust. My hand fell limply to my side. I had steeled myself for this, but the rejection still felt like a knife twisting in my gut. I tried to take Melissa from Johnny’s arms, but Leo shoved me away. “You’re a bad guy! Don’t touch my sister! You’re not allowed!” Chloe looked embarrassed. “Just let Johnny hold her, Ethan. He’s more careful, and she’s always calmer with him.” The casual words were the final straw. “Let’s get a divorce,” I said, my voice flat. “Sign the papers before you go.” Surprise flashed in her eyes, quickly replaced by irritation. “Are you serious? Over a few photos? I was trying to be considerate of your work schedule, that’s why I didn’t ask you to come.” “Johnny was there, so he was in the pictures. If you want some, we can take more later. Why do you have to make such a big deal out of everything?” “And the delivery? I didn’t let you in because I was worried you’d be traumatized by it! Johnny and I grew up together, and he’s a doctor. He’s seen it all before, so I asked him to be there for me.” Her voice rose with every word. “Besides, I already explained all of this to you! What more do you want? Is it fun for you to keep bringing up the past? Can you stop being so unreasonable?!” Her shouting startled Melissa, who began to wail. Johnny rocked her gently, looking at me with a pained expression. “Ethan, I apologize for the photos. I really shouldn’t have been in them,” he said, his tone placating. “It’s all my fault, it has nothing to do with Chloe. If you’re angry, take it out on me. Please don’t let this come between you two.” Chloe stepped in front of him protectively. “This isn’t your fault. You don’t need to apologize.” Leo chimed in, “That’s right! Uncle Johnny, you don’t have to say sorry to the bad guy! When Mommy divorces him, we can all come live at your house!” Chloe, who had been so self-righteous a moment ago, quickly clamped a hand over Leo’s mouth. “Leo, don’t say things like that.” Johnny freed a hand and pulled Leo to his side. “Hey, buddy, let’s not get involved in grown-up stuff, okay? If you’re good, I’ll buy you that new Transformers toy you wanted.” Leo started jumping with excitement. “You’re the best, Uncle Johnny! Not like the bad guy. All he does is bully Mommy and fight with her.” Chloe shot me a look of strained apology, then took Leo’s hand and pushed past me. “If you’re not coming, then you can just stay home and rest. We’re leaving.” I grabbed her arm. “Sign the papers first.” She rolled her eyes, her patience clearly gone. Just as she was about to explode, her phone rang. After a moment, her voice was sharp and annoyed. “You should talk to Ethan. He’s trying to divorce me because Johnny was in Melissa’s photos, and now he won’t let me leave for the party.” She listened for another moment, then put the phone on speaker and shoved it in my face. Her mother’s shrill voice filled the room. “Ethan, what is wrong with you now? Are you not happy until you’ve completely humiliated my daughter? Look at the time! Stop this nonsense!” “Chloe and Johnny are childhood friends! If anything was going to happen between them, it would have happened long before you came along! Frankly, I wish it had.” “Johnny is successful, he’s caring—he’s ten times the man you are! Instead of throwing tantrums, maybe you should try learning something from him!” Her mother’s tirade left me speechless. It was pointless. Their complete lack of concern, their casual dismissal of my feelings, it made me feel like I was the one going crazy. And maybe I was. They had driven me to it. I met Chloe in college. We were young, clumsy, and fell into a relationship that somehow lasted for five years. When it was time to talk about marriage, her parents were dead set against it. They thought I was poor, that I wasn’t good enough. They threatened to break her legs if she married me. After we got married, I threw myself into my work, determined to prove them wrong. I worked until I was sick, literally. I once landed in the ER after drinking so much at a client dinner that I ended up with a bleeding stomach. When her parents came to visit, their words were laced with venom. “I told you she shouldn’t have married you. You’re useless. You land yourself in the hospital trying to close one deal.” “Why didn’t he just drink himself to death? Then you could find someone better while you’re still young.” I buried their words and worked even harder, building my company from the ground up. But it was never enough. Nothing I did would ever be enough for them. I thought Chloe, at least, would understand. But she complained that I was neglecting her. Our son grew distant. I tried to pull back from work, to make it up to them, but she pushed me away. When Melissa was born, she had Johnny in the delivery room. She took him to Melissa’s one-month photoshoot. And her parents, who despised me, encouraged it all. I’ve had enough. I finally see things clearly. All I want now is for it to be over. “Just sign the divorce papers, and you can go to your party,” I said, my voice devoid of emotion. “After this, we can go our separate ways. I’ll give you half of everything.” “As for custody,” I added, “Melissa stays with me. I will give her the best life, the best education.” Chloe’s patience snapped. “The best education? Ethan, are you trying to raise her to be a paranoid maniac like you? Did you beg and plead to marry me just so you could torture me to death?” She grabbed the divorce agreement from the table and, in a fit of rage, ripped it to shreds, throwing the pieces at my chest. “Is that what you want? For me to admit I was wrong? Fine! I was wrong! I’m sorry! Okay? Can we go now?” Her words were an accusation, not an apology. She was trying to force me to back down. Leo tried to shield her with his small body. “You’re a bad guy! Don’t you bully my mom! And you’re not taking my sister!” After a moment, Chloe took a deep breath and patted his shoulder. “Leo, apologize to your father.” “Daddy is angry because Uncle Johnny was in the photos with us,” she explained, her voice deceptively calm. “If you don’t apologize, he’s going to leave our family.” Leo pouted. “Let him leave! I hope I never see the bad guy again!” he shouted. “I’m not saying sorry! Get out of our house! I want Uncle Johnny to be my dad!” Looking at his defiant little face, I could barely hold back my tears. He used to adore me. He used to wait by the door for me to come home from work so we could play. Chloe sighed heavily. “Leo, don’t talk to your father like that. Apologize to him, or he might really leave.” Leo’s little fists were clenched at his sides. “I won’t! I won’t say sorry to the bad guy!” With that, his face crumpled, and he burst into tears. Johnny knelt down and gently wiped his cheeks. “Hey, no crying. Big boys don’t cry, remember?” he murmured. “Just say you’re sorry to your dad. If you do, I promise I’ll take you to my secret hideout, okay?” Leo rubbed his eyes. “Really?” After Johnny nodded, Leo turned to me and mumbled a reluctant, “Sorry.” Chloe looked at her son, her eyes filled with pity. “There. Are you happy now? He apologized. Can you stop this nonsense?” Just then, Leo started pounding on my leg with his small fists. “You big bad guy! Let go of my mom!” “Mommy, just divorce the bad guy! I want Uncle Johnny to be my daddy! Grandma said the bad guy is a jinx and that Mommy will only be happy with Uncle Johnny!” Something inside me snapped. My grip on Chloe’s arm tightened without me realizing it. “Who taught him to say these things?” I roared, my voice shaking with a rage I hadn’t known I possessed. “He’s a child! Why would he say that? Tell me! All these years, I have worked myself to the bone, day and night, to give you a better life! And you… what have you done to me? Do you even have a heart, Chloe? Why would you turn our son against me like this?” Chloe shrank back, trying desperately to pull her arm free. “Bad guys die!” Leo screamed. He grabbed the heavy ceramic vase from the entryway table and, without a moment’s hesitation, swung it with all his might into the small of my back. A sharp, shattering pain exploded across my spine. The shards of the vase sliced through my shirt, followed by the warm trickle of blood. I sucked in a sharp breath, frozen in place. In that instant, all the strength, all the fight, drained out of me. I clutched at the bleeding wound and slowly turned my head. Leo’s expression, though frightened, held no regret. At that moment, the dam broke. Tears I had held back for years streamed down my face. Chloe was clearly shocked. “Leo! What have you done? How could you hit your father with a vase?” Summoning his courage, our son stammered, “Mommy, I just… I just didn’t want the bad guy to hurt you.” Chloe stared at him for a few seconds, then rushed forward and wrapped him in a tight embrace. I wiped the tears from my eyes. From the drawer under the table, I pulled out another copy of the divorce agreement. “Sign it.”

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On my 30th birthday, my boyfriend Richard, egged on by his friends and fueled by liquid courage, broke up with me. “I’m sorry, Jenna,” he slurred, “I never had the guts to tell you, but my mom… she’d kill me if I married an older woman.” He was so sure I was head-over-heels for him that, to preemptively stop me from clinging, he announced his engagement to his childhood sweetheart the very same day. He expected tears. He expected a scene. What he got was the sound of me turning away, trying to stifle a laugh. After all, my hard-and-fast rule has always been to only date men under twenty-five. 1. When Richard said we were over, the Cartier watch I’d just given him was still gleaming on his wrist. I opened my mouth to say something, but one of Richard’s buddies cut me off, his voice dripping with impatience. “What are you still standing there for, lady? Pay the bill and get lost.” I swallowed my anger and turned my gaze to Richard. In the past, he would have been the first to leap to my defense, no matter how small the slight. This time, he just blinked, his face a mask of feigned apology. “Jenna, you wouldn’t make this hard for me, would you?” A cold laugh escaped my lips. “Didn’t you know I was five years older than you when we started dating?” He froze, lost for words. His little childhood sweetheart, Nina, immediately jumped in, her voice oozing with faux concern. “Don’t you think it’s a little… unbecoming? An older woman robbing the cradle? A freshman asked me out once, he was only a few months younger, and even I didn’t have the heart to agree… Jenna, you…” Nina never finished her sentence. The sharp crack of my palm connecting with her cheek cut her off. For Richard’s sake, I had always tolerated Nina’s snide remarks and passive-aggressive digs. I’d just treated it like the yapping of a small dog. Today, my patience had finally run out. Richard reacted instantly, shoving me hard. I stumbled backward, my hip slamming into the edge of a chair with a jolt of pain that brought tears to my eyes. He immediately turned to comfort the red-eyed, sobbing Nina. The others at the table shot to their feet, surrounding me. One of them grabbed a fistful of my hair, yanking my head back. “You old bitch, how dare you hit her! Apologize to Nina right now!” Richard watched it all happen without a word of protest. Cradling Nina protectively, he looked at me with cold eyes. “If you don’t apologize, I’ll let Nina return the favor.” I knew then that the charade was over. He wasn’t even pretending anymore. Since the day we met, he had almost always been the sweet, considerate boyfriend. Even when Nina repeatedly inserted herself into our lives, Richard had always taken my side, whispering sweet reassurances. “Her dad saved my life once, babe. Can’t we just let it slide, for my sake?” Perhaps it was the warmth of those memories that made this moment feel so surreal, like a nightmare I couldn’t wake from. To Richard, my stunned silence must have looked like surrender. A smug, triumphant smirk spread across his face. I expected Nina to seize the opportunity to humiliate me further. Instead, she stepped in front of Richard, her voice a theatrical wail. “It’s okay, Jenna… if you want to hit me, just hit me…” She choked on a sob, her knees buckling as if she were about to collapse. “My father is dying,” she cried, “and his only wish is to see me settled down. Richard is the only one I’ve ever had… you already have everything, so can’t you just let me have him? Please?” 2. Nina had always been a delicate-looking thing. Now, with tears streaming down her face, she looked like a fragile white flower being battered by a storm. If I hadn’t already known about their little scheme, I might have actually fallen for her Oscar-worthy performance. Last night, after Richard had fallen asleep, I’d looked at his phone. In a group chat with his friends, I found everything I needed to know. “Dude, you’ve been milking that old cow for three years. Isn’t it time you dumped her and made an honest woman out of Nina?” Another one chimed in: “Yeah man, you’ve got your career going, Nina’s graduated college. Just do it already. We’re all waiting to be godfathers!” “For real. Every time I see that old hag I wanna puke. If she wasn’t a walking ATM, who would even bother?” “LOL, that’s the funniest part. She thinks she’s some big shot, but all it takes is a few sweet words from our boy Richard and she forgets we can’t stand her. She’s such a sucker, still buying us dinner and gifts!” And Richard—the man who always defended me to their faces—had replied: “Chill, guys. Jenna’s useless to me now. Just help me play this out tomorrow. I’m going for one last score.” With the last ounce of my composure, I placed his phone back on the nightstand, walked into the bathroom, and threw up. I hit the flush, watching my dinner and the last vestiges of my love for Richard swirl down the drain. Four years ago, I’d been invited back to my alma mater as a distinguished graduate to give a speech. Afterward, a young student pushed his way through the crowd to ask for my contact information. It was Richard. He used the pretense of being a student in my old department to ask for advice. I was happy to help. Over time, our conversations drifted from professional to personal. Before I knew it, he was pursuing me relentlessly. I was fond of him. I’ve always had a soft spot for the vibrant energy of younger men, so I agreed to a date. And I had to admit, of all the boyfriends I’d had, Richard was the most compatible. We’d nearly broken up a few times, but he always came back, begging for another chance, his eyes red as he held me tight. “Jenna, I will never, ever agree to break up with you!” Finding a young, uncomplicated partner isn’t easy, and I had genuinely grown to care for him. So, as my 30th birthday approached, I decided to give him one final test. I staged a phone call for him to “overhear,” making him believe my business was on the verge of collapse and that I was down to my last sixteen thousand dollars. I was both hopeful and terrified. I wanted him to be different from the others. But that evening, as he was giving me a shoulder rub, he casually brought up the ten-thousand-dollar Cartier watch he’d been wanting. In that moment, I knew we were finished. The sharp pain in my scalp pulled me back to the present. “Nina, honey, why are you wasting your breath on this old hag? Just go over there and slap her!” one of the guys urged. Nina waved her hands dismissively, putting on a show of magnanimity. “No, no, please let her go! Let’s just finish our meal and go our separate ways.” Her words seemed to remind them of my function as their personal ATM. Muttering a few curses under their breath, they reluctantly let go of my hair. Richard, remembering his own plan, quickly pasted a smile on his face. “Sorry about that, Jenna. I was just worried you’d get in trouble for hitting her. You shouldn’t be so impulsive. Let’s just part on good terms, okay? We can still be friends.” Honestly, it was a tragedy. The world of theater was losing a true talent in Richard. I gave him a smile that didn’t reach my eyes and spread my hands. “My money’s all tied up in a project. Looks like this one’s on you.” 3. The smile vanished from Richard’s face. Before he could say anything, a waiter knocked and entered the private room. In that moment of distraction, I grabbed my purse and bolted, leaving their chorus of curses echoing far behind me. Richard started to follow, but a manager and several more waiters converged on the room, pointedly asking if they intended to dine and dash. Once clear, I went straight to meet my best friend, Mona. Luckily, I’d never told Richard that Mona owned the restaurant. His friends loved the high-end menu here and always made sure to run up an exorbitant tab on my dime. Mona glanced at the string of calls from Richard lighting up my phone screen, then slid the bill across the table with a wry smile. “That bastard,” she said. “Between this meal and that watch, he managed to spend almost exactly your ‘last sixteen thousand,’ didn’t he?” I let out a cold laugh. As I was about to unleash a tirade about Richard, I noticed a man sitting alone in a corner of the office. Mona followed my gaze and waved him over. “Elias, come on over! You’ve been asking about Jenna for ages. Now that she’s here, don’t tell me you’re going to hide in a corner.” The name—Elias—sparked a flicker of familiarity. Before I could place it, he was striding towards us. He was tall, a solid presence that seemed to fill the room. I looked up and met a pair of intense, dark eyes swirling with some hidden current. “Jenna,” he said, his voice low. “It’s been a long time.” Was it my imagination, or was there a slight tremor in his voice? I studied his face—the sharp jawline, the broad shoulders—and finally, the memory clicked into place. Elias was Mona’s cousin. The first time we met, he was a gangly seventeen-year-old high school kid who followed me around like a puppy, stubbornly refusing to call me “Jenna” and instead using my full name. He had grown up, and he had grown up well. Ignoring the faint hint of resentment radiating from him, I reached out and playfully patted his shoulder. “How many times have I told you? Don’t call me by my full name. It’s just Jenna.” A clear look of relief washed over his features. He ducked his head slightly, his voice barely a whisper. “I’m glad you haven’t forgotten me.” Before I could puzzle out the meaning behind his words, the office door burst open and Richard and his entourage stormed in. Mona, who seemed to have anticipated this, glanced at Elias and took a calm sip of her coffee. Richard’s eyes immediately locked onto my hand on Elias’s shoulder, and his face darkened. But just as quickly, his expression shifted to one of pure contempt. “Seriously, Jenna? You found some random guy just to try and make me jealous? Give it up. I’m getting engaged to Nina tonight!” he sneered. “And don’t you dare show up and make a fool of yourself, crying and begging me to take you back.” Nina, emboldened, snuggled against Richard’s side, her eyes full of triumphant provocation. “That’s right, Jenna. I know how much you love him, but it’s a little shameless to be so hung up on someone else’s man, don’t you think?” she cooed. “You must be hurting so much right now. We’re only doing this to help you move on…” I couldn’t help it; I laughed out loud at their delusional performance. “Still playing the ‘daughter of my savior’ card? Are you ever going to get tired of that act? If you two bother me one more time, I swear I’ll call my lawyer. We can have a nice little chat about every single cent I spent on you during our relationship, including the money that paid for your dear Nina’s college tuition. How does that sound?” 4. The color drained from Nina’s face. She shot me a venomous look and clamped her mouth shut. Richard, however, just smirked, utterly confident. “Wow, that’s a new low, trying to win me back with threats. I’ll let you off for the meal this time. Don’t forget to come to the wedding!” With a final, possessive arm around Nina’s shoulders, he swept out of the room with his friends in tow. Mona looked at me, surprised. “You’re just letting him go like that?” I shook my head, a plan already forming in my mind. Richard had no idea that the only reason his startup was successful was because I had been secretly bankrolling it and feeding him clients. But I wasn’t going to pull the rug out from under him just yet. I would wait until he was at the very peak of his success, basking in his glory. Then, I would be the one to personally send him crashing back down to earth. My expression must have been grim, because Elias gently touched my arm. “Jenna, have some self-respect. Is a guy like that really worth your time?” His disappointed, fatherly tone was so unexpected that I found myself instinctively trying to explain. He just looked at me with even more disapproval, as if he was certain I was lying to myself. He didn’t argue, though. He just let out a soft sigh. “It’s late. It’s not safe for you to go home alone. Can I walk you?” Before I could answer, Mona slung an arm around me. “That would be wonderful!” she chirped, then leaned in to whisper in my ear. “That idiot has been in love with you for years. He’s rich, he’s hot, and he’s definitely got stamina. The least you can do is give him a chance, right?” I glanced at Elias, stunned. Mona gave me a gentle push, sending me stumbling straight into him. To his credit, he didn’t take advantage of the situation. He just steadying me carefully, his touch as gentle as if he were handling a priceless treasure. But the raw desire warring with restraint in his eyes was unmistakable. Mona wasn’t joking. As we were leaving, Mona slipped a small box into my purse. “Way better than Richard, right? Young and energetic. Don’t worry, my aunt is super open-minded. She’s totally cool with the seven-year age gap.” I shot a look at Elias. His face, his body… he was exactly my type. Since Richard had been the one to betray me, I saw no reason to observe a mourning period for a relationship that wasn’t worth it. But Elias was far more disciplined than I expected. He walked me to my door, got my number, and then simply left. I didn’t press the issue. I keyed in my code and opened the door, only to freeze on the threshold. Two figures were tangled together on my sofa. Nina shrieked, scrambling to cover herself. Richard, furious, started to yell at me, but at that exact moment, Elias reappeared, striding past me into the apartment and planting himself firmly between me and them. Richard’s face contorted with rage. “You even brought him to our home? You’re really committed to this act, aren’t you? God, you’re disgusting, the way you just can’t let me go!” Nina, having hastily pulled on her clothes, added her two cents. “Honestly, Jenna, a woman has to have some self-love. Can’t you just stop harassing my fiancé?” This time, I didn’t hold back. I swung my heavy leather handbag, aiming straight for their heads. The force of the blow was so strong that the small box Mona had given me flew out and clattered onto the floor. A box of condoms. Richard’s face went white. He stared at me and Elias, his expression one of ultimate betrayal, his jaw clenched so tight I thought his teeth would crack. “How dare you, Jenna?” he seethed. “Just because I don’t want you anymore, you think you can just go and hook up with some other guy?” I was suddenly confused. He was the one who had used me for my money. He was the one who had planned to dump me the second he thought I was broke. And now he was acting like I was the one who had wronged him? But I didn’t have time to unravel his twisted logic. I just pulled out my phone and dialed 911. “Yes, hello? I’d like to report a break-in. Two people have illegally entered my home and are refusing to return my stolen property.”

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Seven years. We’d been together for seven years, and my staunchly anti-marriage girlfriend was pregnant. I stared at the positive test in my hand, the world grinding to a halt around me. It couldn’t be mine. She hadn’t let me touch her in a month. Every time she cheated, she’d buy me a supercar. Our driveway and garage looked like a showroom for exotic machines, a glistening monument to her infidelity. For seven years, I’d swallowed my pride, again and again. But this time was different. I couldn’t swallow this. I packed my bags, ready to end it. When I told her, she just scoffed. “So I’ve been a little distant for a few days. Are you really going to throw a tantrum over that?” It wasn’t a tantrum. It was the sound of my heart finally giving up. 1 “Vivian isn’t against marriage,” her new flame sneered, standing over me with an air of smug superiority. “She’s just against marrying you. You’re nothing but a lap dog she keeps.” In that single, brutal moment, the full, stupid weight of the last seven years crashed down on me. Yesterday was our seventh anniversary. I’d orchestrated a perfect evening—a romantic, candlelit dinner overlooking the city, a song I’d written just for her, a celebration of what I thought was our epic love story. But Vivian never showed up. I called her endlessly, each ring unanswered until she finally texted back a curt, dismissive reply: Busy. Stop bothering me. Now I knew what she was so busy with. She was with him, Julian, her business partner. He showed me the photos, of course. Vivian, draped in a stunning evening gown, gazing at him with an adoration I hadn’t seen in years. And then, the final, crushing realization: Julian was the one who had been anonymously sending me these pictures all along. Seeing my silence, he gave my shoulder a condescending shove. “If I were you, I’d have tucked my tail between my legs and run a long time ago. The only reason you stick around is for the cars, right? You’re just that pathetic.” He let out a dry, contemptuous laugh. Then he told me. Every single supercar she’d ever given me after one of her “indiscretions”—he was the one who helped her pick them out. It was a game to them, a sick bet. They’d wager on whether another expensive car would be enough to make the fool stay, to make me forgive her one more time. My tolerance, my willingness to believe her lies, had become a source of amusement for them. A joke shared between lovers. Faced with the ugly, shattered pieces of my reality, I didn’t throw a punch. I didn’t scream. I just went home and started packing. Seven years of this had left me hollowed out, exhausted down to my very soul. It was time to leave. Just as I pulled out my suitcase, Vivian walked in. In her hand, she dangled another key fob, holding it out to me like a peace offering. “Leo, I’m so sorry. Work has been insane. I can’t believe I missed our big day.” She pressed the key into my palm, then melted into my arms, her voice a soft, practiced purr. “We’ll make it up, I promise. As soon as this deal closes, we’ll have a proper celebration.” “Look,” she cooed, “this one’s a global limited edition. Worth a fortune. See how good I am to you? You’ll forgive me, won’t you?” I gently pushed her away, studying her perfectly made-up face. How could she stand there, her body and soul already given to another man, and lie to me so flawlessly? I didn’t know whether to be impressed by her audacity or disgusted by my own gullibility. A bitter smile touched my lips. I held the key back out to her. “An anniversary only happens once. You can’t ‘make up’ for it.” My voice was steady, a calm facade over the churning vortex in my gut. I was about to say the words—we’re over—when she pressed her body against mine, her lips finding my neck. “Then let me… make it up to you tonight?” The thought of her hands on me, the same hands that had been all over Julian just last night, sent a wave of nausea through me. How did she do it? How did she switch from whispering sweet nothings to him to trying to seduce me without missing a beat? This time, I didn’t have to push her away. A sharp, distinct ringtone cut through the air—Julian’s ringtone. Without a second’s hesitation, Vivian pulled back, snatching her phone and ducking into the bedroom to answer it. Through the crack in the door, I could see the brilliant, unrestrained smile spreading across her face. There was a time when I was the one who made her smile like that. When her family, her friends, the whole world, it seemed, was against us, she knelt before her parents and swore she would have no other man but me. She’d nearly been disinherited for me. Her fierce loyalty made me believe we were inevitable, that I was her one and only. Even when she told me she was anti-marriage, that she just wanted to be with me forever without a piece of paper defining it, I accepted it. For her, I would have accepted anything. And now, this woman who once loved me to the bone, emerged from the bedroom after a call with her lover and offered me a placid apology. “Leo, that was work. An emergency negotiation. I have to go.” Her tone was final. “I promise, I’ll make it up to you. Get some sleep, okay?” I reached out, my fingers brushing her arm. “Do you really have to go? There’s something important I need to tell you.” Her eyes flashed with annoyance. “What could possibly be so important? Leo, don’t be childish. Don’t waste my time.” And with that, she slipped into a sleek power suit and walked out the door without a backward glance. The last flicker of warmth in my heart turned to ice. I had thought a simple “we’re done” would be enough. That our financial ties could be untangled by lawyers. But seeing her so comfortably enjoying her double life, I knew it wouldn’t be that easy. So I did the only thing I could. I finished packing my bags, walked out of that house, and moved out. I sent her a single text message: It’s over. She never responded. My departure, it seemed, wasn’t even worth a reply. Three days later, my phone rang. It was her number, but the voice on the other end was Julian’s, dripping with arrogance. “Vivian just had a miscarriage. She’s weak. If you have something to say, say it to me. I’ll pass it on.” A miscarriage? The words struck me like lightning, rooting me to the spot. Because of her “no marriage” stance, I had been obsessively careful for seven years, terrified of an accident, of causing her any harm. The woman who preached about the evils of commitment… had been pregnant with another man’s child? The betrayal was a physical thing, a crushing weight on my chest that made it impossible to breathe. The ground seemed to drop out from under me. It all made sense now—her recent aversion to my touch, her distance. I’d chalked it up to work stress. The truth was so much uglier. She wasn’t stressed; she was hiding a pregnancy. I fought to keep my voice even, a cold calm settling over my rage. “When she’s better, tell her our relationship is over.” Julian chuckled on the other end. “You should have been gone a long time ago, you broke loser.” The click of the phone hanging up echoed in the silence. The fury I’d suppressed for years finally erupted. I collapsed, my head in my hands, and I sobbed, not for her, but for the seven years of my life I had utterly wasted. After the storm passed, clarity began to return. In a twisted way, I was grateful for her supposed anti-marriage principles. It meant a clean break, no messy divorce or battles over assets. For years, I’d let my own ambitions wither to keep her happy. I was once a top graduate from a prestigious art academy, but I’d settled for a dead-end job that gave me more time for her. My old mentor had reached out last year, offering to hold a spot for me in a master’s program abroad. On a whim, I called him. “That specific spot is gone,” he told me, “but with your portfolio and my connections, getting you into a new program will be no problem at all!” True to his word, within weeks, I had an acceptance letter. With everything settled, I stood at the airport with a single suitcase and a one-way ticket. I had just checked my bag when my phone buzzed. It was Vivian. Her voice was raw, raspy. “Leo, why did you just move out? What is this silent treatment all about? Why are you being like this?” So, she’d finally been home. She’d have found my empty closets, and the fleet of supercars left gleaming in the garage and driveway, untouched. The rage had cooled into a dull, quiet ache. “We broke up, Vivian. Naturally, I moved out. I’m not taking a single one of the cars.” “As for the house and everything else,” I continued, “my lawyer will be in touch. Just wire the money when he tells you to.” She sounded completely bewildered, as if I were speaking another language. “Honey, what are you talking about? Broke up? I don’t understand.” I didn’t know if Julian had kept his mouth shut or if she was just playing dumb. Frankly, I was past caring. My patience was gone. “Stop pretending, Vivian,” I snapped. “You were pregnant with Julian’s child. How can you still stand there and act like you’re the victim, like you’re devoted to me? For seven years, you ran to him behind my back. As a man, I have put up with more than enough. I am done. Now, I’m settling the score with you two cheating, backstabbing liars!”

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For five years, Evelyn was my world. Five years, and she was always distant, a beautiful, cold star I could only orbit. She never once let me touch her, but I never thought of leaving. When she was diagnosed with liver cancer, I didn’t hesitate. I gave her two-thirds of mine. Overwhelmed, she finally accepted my proposal. I was ecstatic, planning our wedding, dreaming of a future that was finally within reach. Then, on his way back to crash our wedding, her first love—her perfect, idealized memory of a man—died in a car accident. All her grief, all her rage, she poured onto me. Her revenge was merciless. It ended with her lighting a match and burning me alive. It was only in that final, searing moment of agony that I understood. The five years I had loved her without question were the same five years she had kept him enshrined in her heart. She was only marrying me to avoid the label of being ungrateful. My entire life’s devotion had been a joke. Now, reborn at the peak of my love for her, I’m the one calling it off. Later, she’ll come to me, crying, telling me I was the only one who ever truly loved her. Sorry, Evelyn. But I don’t love you anymore. 1 At the opening reception for her new art gallery, Evelyn Monroe stood in the center of a glittering crowd and announced, “I’ve decided to marry Liam Shaw.” The room erupted in applause and cheers, a wave of congratulations washing over us. But amidst the joy, one figure stood out like a crack in a masterpiece: Julian Vance, Evelyn’s first love. He drained his champagne flute in one gulp, then turned to me, a smirk laced with venom playing on his lips. “Congratulations, Liam. You bought your way into her life with a piece of your liver, and it finally paid off.” I was in a corner of the gallery, arranging canapés and drinks, but his words sent a storm raging through me, dragging up the wreckage of my last life. Evelyn, with liver cancer, one foot already in the grave. Her parents were too old to be donors. Julian, her beloved ex, had booked a flight out of the country the night he heard the news. I was the only match. I loved her. I couldn’t bear the thought of her dying so young. I gave her two-thirds of my liver without a second thought. She had cried, her gratitude a warm flood that thawed her usual frost. She promised to marry me, to spend the rest of her life taking care of me. But when Julian died, her gratitude curdled into a corrosive hatred that ended with me screaming in a fire. A sharp, stabbing pain twisted in my gut. The delicate clinking of glasses around me was a tormenting echo, and I couldn’t stop it. A wave of nausea hit me so hard I doubled over, gagging. Julian froze. Evelyn, however, rushed over, her face a mask of disgust. “What is wrong with you? Can you not even handle appetizers without making a scene? If I knew the first thing about catering, this job wouldn’t have fallen to you in the first place!” “You’re useless,” she hissed. “Just hurry up and don’t ruin the mood for everyone.” Julian shot me a look of contempt before turning a charming smile on Evelyn. “Evelyn, darling, I can handle this. Let me.” A blush crept up her cheeks. “Absolutely not,” she cooed, her voice soft. “Your hands are for painting, Julian. They shouldn’t be wasted on menial tasks. You go relax. There’s only one tray left. We’ll let him finish it. Come on.” She gently pushed him back toward the crowd, but not before throwing a final, cutting remark over her shoulder at me. “I know you donated part of your liver, Liam, but can you stop using it as an excuse to be so fragile all the time? It’s not like it affects your ability to arrange shrimp on a platter. Honestly.” The chatter in the gallery died down as our friends glanced over, their eyes filled with pity. I ignored them all, a flash of agony tightening my chest. I watched Evelyn laughing with Julian, my expression hardening into a cold, clear resolve. I am alive again. And this time, I will not be the collateral damage of their love story. Slowly, I straightened up, finished the last of the appetizers, and carried the tray out. Most of the guests were Evelyn’s friends; they all knew the epic saga of her and Julian. One of them pointed at the cartoon Band-Aid on the back of Julian’s hand. “No way, man,” he laughed. “You nicked yourself on an easel and you’re wearing that?” Julian shot a pointed look in my direction. “I’ve got someone who worries about me. Even the smallest scratch, and she can’t help but care.” He then turned to me, his face a caricature of apology. “Sorry, Liam. No offense intended. But I guess with you missing half an organ, Evelyn’s got bigger things to worry about.” I sat down, my voice flat and cold. “I’m missing part of my liver because I love Evelyn. Unlike you, who, when she needed a donor, bolted for the hills faster than anyone I’ve ever seen.” “How dare you twist it like that?” Julian snapped, his face contorting as if I’d stomped on his foot. He immediately turned to Evelyn, his eyes red and welling with tears. “Evelyn, you know why I had to leave! My cousin was in an accident overseas. I had to go, otherwise I would have stayed by your side through everything. He never would have had the chance.” He choked back a sob. “If I had known you’d marry him just for a piece of his liver, I never would have left. God, I… I’ve regretted it every single day.” The mood in the room shifted. Everyone exchanged uncertain glances. Evelyn’s eyes filled with tears of pure, unadulterated emotion. I watched them from the sidelines, my heart a placid lake. A bitter laugh almost escaped my lips. I’d given her a vital part of myself, and I’d never seen this much emotion from her. Julian says he regrets leaving, and she looks at him like he hung the moon. How could I have been so stupid in my last life? How could I have ever believed my devotion could win her heart? Suddenly, Julian’s act reached its crescendo. He crumpled to the floor, his body twitching faintly, a bit of white foam appearing at the corner of his mouth. Evelyn shrieked, dropping to her knees and pulling him into her arms. “Julian! What’s happening? Don’t scare me!” she cried, her voice trembling with panic. Gasping for air, Julian managed to speak, his voice weak. “It’s nothing… an old problem. Side effect from the sleeping pills. These last two years… I was so worried about you, I couldn’t sleep. They were the only thing that got me through.” He looked past her, his gaze locking with mine. “Liam thinks I did this on purpose. But I didn’t. It’s always been you, Evelyn. It’s always been you in my heart.” He took another shaky breath. “I just hope… even after you’re married, we can still be close. If you’ve misunderstood my feelings… I’d rather just die right now.” Evelyn bought it hook, line, and sinker. She began to sob uncontrollably. “Oh, Julian, you idiot! Of course, I believe you! You don’t have to prove anything to me like this.” She clutched his hand tightly. “And it doesn’t matter if I’m married or not. Nothing will ever change how I feel about you. No one can ever change that!” A faint, tragic smile touched Julian’s lips. “As long as you know that, I can rest easy.” With that, he passed out. Just before his eyes fluttered shut, I caught a flicker of a triumphant, sly smirk on his face. Evelyn fumbled for her phone, frantically dialing 911. Only then did she finally look at me, her eyes burning with pure hatred. “I already agreed to marry you, Liam! Why did you have to say those things to him?” she hissed. “If anything happens to Julian because of you, I swear, I will make you regret it for the rest of your life!” 2 Her furious expression sent a phantom ache through my chest. Anyone in that room could see Julian was acting, but she was completely blind to it. Even one of her own friends couldn’t help but speak up. “Evelyn, if it wasn’t for Liam, who knows where you’d be right now. Besides, he really did leave you when you needed him most.” Evelyn’s rage only intensified. “All Liam did was donate a piece of his liver! That doesn’t give him the right to act so high and mighty!” I let out a soft, humorless laugh and glanced at the man playing dead on the floor. “Really? He loves you that much, but his cousin was more important than your life?” Her anger peaked. “That’s enough! I won’t let you say another bad word about him!” Seeing her, so utterly lost in her delusion, I saw a reflection of my past self. I remembered how I used to plead with her, trying to explain that I didn’t give her my liver as a bargaining chip for marriage. I did it because I loved her, and I hoped she would marry me because she loved me back. She agreed to marry me, yet she resented me for it, torturing me until my last breath. I was just as blind as she is now. Thank God that’s over. A small pang of regret hit me. If only I could have been reborn just a little bit earlier. I never would have given her the liver in the first place. The paramedics arrived quickly. Without a second thought, Evelyn jumped into the ambulance alongside them. The party was over. I spent the next few days recovering at home. And I spent some money. I hired an investigator to dig up everything there was to know about Julian Vance, especially what he’d been up to abroad for the past two years. It turned out Julian’s private life was as dramatic as a Hollywood blockbuster. Yet here he was, professing his undying love for Evelyn. Pathetic. I couldn’t wait to see the look on Evelyn’s face when she found out. But first, I had to make sure they were shackled together for good. That would be the best revenge. A flicker of anticipation sparked within me. A few days later, Evelyn stormed back into my apartment, her eyes blazing. “Liam, Julian almost died because of you! Even my father went to the hospital to see him. Aren’t you going to go and apologize?!” I pulled on a jacket, ready to go with her. On the way to the hospital, I looked at her exhausted face. She was clearly worn out from worry. I’d never seen her this concerned, not even when I was recovering from surgery. Julian fakes a fainting spell, and she’s a wreck. I couldn’t help but ask, “I’ve been so good to you. I gave you a piece of myself. Does all of that still not measure up to a single hair on Julian’s head?” Evelyn hesitated, then her face hardened with irritation. “No one compares to Julian. I won’t lie to you, Liam. I love him. Only him. We were childhood sweethearts. You can’t possibly compete with that.” She sighed. “But don’t worry. You saved my life, and I’ll keep my promise. I’ll marry you. I don’t want to disappoint my parents, and I don’t want people talking. When we get to the hospital, you will apologize to Julian properly. I don’t want him to be upset.” I looked at her determined expression and finally understood. It all made sense now. Why she hated me so much after Julian died. To her, Julian was everything. And I was just a doormat. When we arrived at the hospital, Julian was propped up in bed, tearfully recounting his years of longing for Evelyn to an older man sitting by his bedside—her father. As we walked in, his eyes immediately found Evelyn, and his expression softened into one of deep, soulful affection. “Evelyn, you’re here.” She gazed back at him, her own eyes filled with a matching tenderness. I ignored their silent exchange and turned to her father. “Sir, I need to discuss something with you. Could we step outside for a moment?” Mr. Monroe nodded, but as we headed for the door, Evelyn blocked our path, her face flushed with anger. “Liam, are you trying to tattle on me to my dad? If you have a complaint about me and Julian, you can say it right here! You don’t have to be so sneaky!” “I have other things to discuss,” I said calmly. She clearly didn’t believe me. “I was harsh with you, and now you’re upset, I get it. But this is between us. Don’t drag Julian into it. He’s innocent! Just say what you have to say. I’m listening!” I looked at her father, then gestured toward Evelyn, who was glaring at me as if I were her sworn enemy. “Sir, you see it too. You see how deep Miss Monroe’s feelings for Mr. Vance are. I don’t want to be the villain in their story. I’m willing to step aside.” I took a breath and delivered the final blow. “The engagement… I think we should call it off.”

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Three years we’d been together when Isabella’s kidneys gave out. Acute renal failure, they called it, a cruel consequence of a life lived too fast. I gave her one of mine without a second thought. She wept, she held me, she promised me forever. She would marry me, she said, and take care of me for the rest of our lives. But on our wedding day, on the Fourth of July, I called the whole thing off in front of everyone. Why? Because I’d lived this life before. In that other life, her ex-boyfriend, Roger, died in a car crash on his way to our wedding. And somehow, in the twisted logic of her grief, it was my fault. She dedicated herself to my destruction, a slow, meticulous revenge that left me a skeletal wreck. A year later, on the anniversary of Roger’s death, she led me to the boiler room of an old factory. She staged an “accident.” I remember the searing heat, the hiss of steam, the world turning white-hot before it went black. I was scalded alive. Now, I’m back. And this time, I’m not playing her game. This time, I’ll let them have their undying, tragic love story. 1 “Leo and I have decided to get married on the last day of the Fourth of July weekend!” Isabella’s announcement sent a ripple of cheers through the crowded living room. Our friends erupted in applause, shouting congratulations, wishing us a lifetime of happiness. Only Roger, Isabella’s first love, remained silent. He lifted his glass of whiskey, downed it in one smooth motion, and fixed me with a smirk laced with venom. “Well, congratulations, Leo. You bought your way into her life with a kidney, and it finally paid off.” I was in the kitchen, turning steaks on the grill pan, the scent of sizzling meat and warm spices filling the air. It should have felt cozy, a perfect summer evening. But all I could think about was the searing end to my last life. Two years ago, Isabella had been knocking on death’s door. Her family members weren’t a match. Roger, her beloved ex, had booked a one-way ticket out of the country the night he got the news. I was the only one who matched. I loved her. The thought of her dying so young was unbearable. So I gave her a piece of myself. She was so moved she cried for an hour straight, promising right then and there, before the surgery, that she would be my wife. She would cherish me forever. But when Roger died, that love curdled into a corrosive hatred that ended with me screaming in a boiler room. A sharp, stabbing pain twisted in my gut. The sound of the sizzling steaks was a violent echo of my past, and I couldn’t stop it. A wave of nausea hit me hard, and I doubled over the counter, gagging. Roger froze. Isabella, however, rushed over, her face a mask of disgust. “What the hell is wrong with you? Can’t you even cook without making a scene? If my cooking wasn’t so terrible, you wouldn’t even be touching the food for Roger!” She scowled. “You’re useless. Just hurry up so you don’t ruin everyone’s appetite.” Roger glanced at me with disdain before turning a charming smile on Isabella. “Bella, darling, I can cook. Let me take over.” A blush crept up Isabella’s cheeks. “Absolutely not,” she cooed, her voice soft. “Your hands are for the piano, Roger. They don’t belong in a kitchen. You go relax. There’s only one more dish. We’ll let him finish it. Come on.” She gently pushed him back toward the living room, but not before throwing a final, cutting remark over her shoulder at me. “I know you gave me a kidney, Leo, but can you stop using it as an excuse to be so fragile all the time? It’s not like it affects your ability to flip a damn steak, is it?” The chatter in the living room died down. I could feel the sympathetic stares of our friends, but I ignored them. A cold sweat broke out on my forehead as a flash of agony, a memory of fire, shot through me. I watched Isabella laughing with Roger, her head tilted just so, her eyes sparkling. My expression hardened, the pain solidifying into a cold, clear resolve. I am alive again. And I will not be the collateral damage of their love story this time. Slowly, I straightened up, finished the last of the vegetables, and brought the platter to the table. Most of the guests were Isabella’s friends. They all knew the epic story of her and Roger. One of them pointed at the cute cartoon Band-Aid on the back of Roger’s hand. “No way, man,” he laughed. “You’re a grown man. You scraped your hand on the corner of the table and you’re wearing a Band-Aid?” Roger shot a pointed look in my direction. “I have someone who worries about me. Even the smallest scratch, and she can’t help but care.” He then turned to me, his face a caricature of apology. “Sorry, Leo. No offense intended. But I guess with you missing a whole organ, Bella’s got bigger things to worry about.” I sat down, my voice flat and cold. “I’m missing a kidney because I love Isabella. Unlike you, who, when she needed a donor, bolted for the hills faster than anyone I’ve ever seen.” “How dare you twist it like that?” Roger snapped, his face contorting as if I’d stepped on his tail. He immediately turned to Isabella, his eyes red and welling with tears. “Bella, you know why I had to leave! My cousin was in an accident overseas. I had to go, otherwise I would have stayed by your side through everything. He never would have had the chance.” He choked back a sob. “If I had known you’d marry him just for a kidney, I would have stayed. God, I… I’ve regretted it every single day.” The mood in the room shifted. Everyone exchanged uncertain glances. Isabella’s eyes filled with tears of pure, unadulterated emotion. I watched them from the sidelines, my heart a placid lake. A bitter laugh almost escaped my lips. I’d given her a vital organ, and I’d never seen this much emotion from her. Roger says he regrets leaving, and she looks at him like he hung the moon. How could I have been so stupid in my last life? How could I have ever believed my devotion could win her heart? Suddenly, Roger’s act reached its crescendo. He crumpled to the floor, his body twitching faintly, a bit of white foam appearing at the corner of his mouth. Isabella shrieked, dropping to her knees and pulling him into her arms. “Roger! What’s happening? Don’t scare me!” she cried, her voice trembling with panic. Gasping for air, Roger managed to speak, his voice weak. “It’s nothing… an old problem. Side effect from the sleeping pills. These last two years… I was so worried about you, I couldn’t sleep. They were the only thing that got me through.” He looked past her, his gaze locking with mine. “Leo thinks I did this on purpose. But I didn’t. It’s always been you, Bella. It’s always been you in my heart.” He took another shaky breath. “I just hope… even after you’re married, we can still be close. If you’ve misunderstood my feelings… I’d rather just die right now.” It was a performance so clumsy it wouldn’t fool a toddler, but any sane adult could see right through it. Isabella, however, bought it hook, line, and sinker. She began to sob uncontrollably. “Oh, Roger, you idiot! Of course, I believe you! You don’t have to prove anything to me like this.” She clutched him tighter. “And it doesn’t matter if I’m married or not. Nothing will ever change how I feel about you. No one can ever change that!” A faint, tragic smile touched Roger’s lips. “As long as you know that, I can rest easy.” And with that, he passed out. Just before his eyes fluttered shut, I caught a flicker of a triumphant, sly smirk on his face. Isabella fumbled for her phone, frantically dialing 911. Only then did she finally look at me, her eyes burning with pure hatred. “I already agreed to marry you, Leo! Why did you have to say those things to him?” she hissed. “If anything happens to Roger because of you, I swear, I will make you regret it for the rest of your life!” 2 Her furious expression sent a phantom ache through my chest. Anyone in that room could see Roger was acting, but she was completely blind to it. Even one of her own friends couldn’t help but speak up. “Isabella, that’s a bit harsh. If it wasn’t for Leo, who knows where you’d be right now.” “Besides,” another friend added quietly, “he really did leave you when you needed him most.” Isabella’s rage only intensified. “All Leo did was donate a kidney! That doesn’t give him the right to act so high and mighty!” she shot back. “Roger had a family emergency! If he had been here, he would have done anything to save me! I’m already marrying you because of the kidney, Leo. What more do you want?” I let out a soft, humorless laugh and glanced at the man playing dead on the floor. “Really? He loves you that much, but his cousin was more important than your life?” My words only seemed to disgust her further. “That’s enough! I won’t let you say another bad word about him! That was his cousin, Leo! Was he just supposed to ignore that? Have you lost your heart completely?!” Seeing her, so utterly lost in her delusion, I saw a reflection of my past self. I remembered how I used to plead with her, trying to explain that I didn’t give her my kidney as a bargaining chip for marriage. I did it because I loved her, and I hoped she would marry me because she loved me back. She agreed to marry me, yet she resented me for it, torturing me until my last breath. I was just as blind as she is now. Thank God that’s over. A small pang of regret hit me. If only I could have been reborn just a little bit earlier. I never would have given her the kidney in the first place. The paramedics arrived quickly. Without a second thought, Isabella jumped into the ambulance alongside them, her hand clutching Roger’s the entire time. The party was over. I spent the next few days recovering at home. And I spent some money. I hired an investigator to dig up everything there was to know about Roger Vance, especially what he’d been up to abroad for the past two years. It turned out Roger’s private life was as dramatic as a Hollywood blockbuster. Yet here he was, professing his undying love for Isabella. Pathetic. I couldn’t wait to see the look on Isabella’s face when she found out. But first, I had to make sure they were shackled together for good. That would be the best revenge. A flicker of anticipation sparked within me. A few days later, Isabella stormed back into my apartment, her eyes blazing. “Leo, Roger almost died because of you! Even my father went to the hospital to see him. Aren’t you going to go and apologize?!” I pulled on a jacket, ready to go with her. On the way to the hospital, I looked at her exhausted face. She was clearly worn out from worry, her eyes puffy from lack of sleep. I’d never seen her this concerned, not even when I was recovering from surgery. Roger fakes a fainting spell, and she’s a wreck. I couldn’t help but ask, “I’ve been so good to you. I gave you a piece of myself. Does all of that still not measure up to a single hair on Roger’s head?” Isabella hesitated for a second, then her face hardened with irritation. “No one compares to Roger. I won’t lie to you, Leo. I love him. Only him. We were childhood sweethearts. You can’t possibly compete with that.” She sighed, a long, weary sound. “But don’t worry. You saved my life, and I’ll keep my promise. I’ll marry you. I don’t want to disappoint my parents, and I don’t want people talking. When we get to the hospital, you will apologize to Roger properly. I don’t want him to be upset.” I looked at her determined expression and finally understood. It all made sense now. Why she hated me so much after Roger died in my previous life. To her, Roger was everything. And I was just a doormat she could walk all over. When we arrived at the hospital, Roger was propped up in bed, tearfully recounting his years of longing for Isabella to an older man sitting by his bedside—her father. As we walked in, his eyes immediately found Isabella, and his expression softened into one of deep, soulful affection, as if he wanted to melt right into her. “Bella, you’re here.” She gazed back at him, her own eyes filled with a matching tenderness. I ignored their silent, passionate exchange and turned to her father. “Sir, I need to discuss something with you. Could we step outside for a moment?” Mr. Bell nodded, but as we headed for the door, Isabella blocked our path, her face flushed with anger. “Leo, are you trying to tattle on me to my dad?” she demanded. “If you have a complaint about me and Roger, you can say it right here! You don’t have to be so sneaky!” “I have other things to discuss,” I said calmly. She clearly didn’t believe me. “I was harsh with you, and now you’re upset, I get it. But this is between us. Don’t drag Roger into it. He’s innocent! Just say what you have to say. I’m listening!” I looked at her father, then gestured toward Isabella, who was glaring at me as if I were her sworn enemy. “Sir, you see it too. You see how deep Miss Bell’s feelings for Mr. Vance are. I don’t want to be the villain in their story. I’m willing to step aside and let them be happy.” I took a breath and delivered the final blow. “The wedding we planned for the Fourth of July… I think we should call it off. Effective immediately.”

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