Author: Momo Chan

An accident left me blind. For five years, my girlfriend, Amelia, never left my side. She would hold my hand, her voice thick with emotion, and swear, “It doesn’t matter if you never see again. I will never marry anyone but you.” For five long years, she was my rock, my eyes, my everything. I truly believed she wanted to spend her life with me. Until we went on vacation, and I “accidentally” fell into the ocean. I woke up in a hospital room, and the first thing I realized was… I could see. The world was a blur of shapes and colors, but it was there. I could see. I was about to call out, to share the miraculous news with her, when I saw them. Amelia and another man, standing on the balcony, locked in a tight embrace. Her smile was radiant, a look of pure bliss I hadn’t seen in years. “Don’t worry,” she cooed. “Even if he didn’t die, it won’t change anything for us. He’s just a blind man. What’s he going to do?” 1 Her words sent a chill down my spine. It didn’t make sense. I thought Amelia loved me. When I lost my sight, she hadn’t hesitated. She’d stayed, cared for me, loved me. Five years of unwavering devotion. What was happening? Before I could process it, I heard their voices again. “He still needs to die,” the man said. “As long as he’s alive, all that money is still his.” That voice… I knew that voice. It was David, the male caregiver Amelia had hired a few months ago. It had to be. I’d felt sorry for her, thinking the burden of caring for me was too much. I was the one who insisted she get some help. I hadn’t just hired help. I had invited a predator into my home. Still reeling from the shock, I heard Amelia’s voice, soft and reassuring. “Don’t you worry, my love. I didn’t expect him to be so lucky. Someone saw him fall in right away.” “Just give it some time. We’ll find another excuse to take him somewhere.” What did that mean? So, falling into the ocean… that was their plan? And they were going to try again? Any lingering hope I’d clung to shattered, leaving me in an arctic wasteland of betrayal. The cold was so profound, it felt like it was freezing me from the inside out. I forced myself to stay calm, to listen. David, soothed by Amelia’s words, seemed to calm down. “Next time,” he said, his voice hard, “we need to be prepared. We have to make sure it’s a clean kill.” Amelia nodded eagerly, melting into his embrace, a sickeningly sweet smile on her face. She took his hand and placed it on her stomach. “Darling, I have some wonderful news.” “I’m pregnant.” David’s eyes went wide. “What did you just say?” “I said,” she repeated, peppering his face with kisses, “you’re going to be a father!” “Really?” he asked again, his voice filled with disbelief. Amelia nodded, and he let out a whoop of joy, sweeping her up into his arms. “This is amazing! I’m going to be a dad!” His voice grew louder with excitement. Amelia quickly pressed a hand over his mouth. “Shh! Keep it down! The blind man is still lying in there. You’ll wake him up.” “So what?” David scoffed. “The doctor said he wouldn’t be conscious until tomorrow at the earliest.” But Amelia wasn’t convinced. She insisted on checking on me. After a few more stolen kisses, David reluctantly let her go, and they stepped back into the room from the balcony. I scrambled back into the bed, my movements silent thanks to my bare feet. A moment later, they were standing over me. “Leo? Leo?” David said, tapping my cheek. Beneath the blanket, my hand was clenched so tightly around the bedsheet my knuckles were white. It took every ounce of self-control not to leap up and smash their faces in. They both called my name a few more times. Convinced I was still unconscious, they straightened up. This time, they didn’t even bother with subtlety. They wrapped their arms around each other right there, next to my bed. “See? I told you not to worry,” David murmured. “Even if he wakes up, he can’t see anything.” A frown creased his forehead. “We can’t be careless. What if… what if he got his sight back?” I watched them through slightly slitted eyelids, a perfect picture of a loving couple, whispering their secrets over my supposedly insensate body. It all made sense now—why she had been pushing me away for months, always finding an excuse to avoid any intimacy. She was pregnant with another man’s child. The thought that I had been supporting these two vipers, that I had welcomed one of them into my home, made me want to slap myself. But now, I had the advantage. They were out in the open, and I was in the shadows. I would play their game. I would continue to be the helpless blind man. And I would watch them. I would wait. And then, I would make them pay. The lingering effects of the medication soon pulled me into a genuine, deep sleep. When I woke the next morning, the room was empty. “Amelia? Are you there?” I called out. The door swung open, and she rushed in, with David trailing behind her. “Darling! You’re awake! Oh, thank God, you scared me to death!” She collapsed into my arms, her face buried in my chest, her shoulders shaking with sobs. What an actress. It was a damn shame she wasn’t in Hollywood. David shot her an annoyed look, then waved his hand back and forth in front of my face. It was a daily ritual for him, a constant test to see if anything had changed. “It’s okay, don’t cry. I’m fine,” I said, pretending to grope for her, my hand finally finding her face after a few clumsy attempts. The skin under my fingers was completely dry. Her performance was flawless. After a few more minutes of her fake comfort, she told David to help me with a shower. He made a disgusted face and spat silently on the floor before reluctantly leading me to the bathroom. Once inside, he cranked the faucet to its hottest setting, aimed the showerhead at my chest, and turned it on. Scalding water hit my skin. I cried out in pain. He feigned panic. “Oh, sorry, Leo! I didn’t realize!” Amelia heard the commotion and knocked on the door. “What’s going on in there?” “He scalded me!” I called out first. “Where? Let me see! Come out here!” Her voice was thick with a worry that, just yesterday, would have seemed completely genuine. Now, it was just the hollow echo of a lie. “It’s fine,” I said, my voice tight. “We’ll be out in a minute.” I felt David’s grip on my arm tighten. He gave me a quick, rough rinse and practically threw my clothes back on me. The moment I was back on the bed, Amelia was there, lifting my shirt. “Let me see what happened.” She saw the angry red patch on my chest and shot a glare at David. “Does it hurt? It’s all red! David, what is wrong with you?” On the surface, she was scolding him for my sake. In reality, her eyes were locked on his, and she mouthed silently, What happened? He jerked his chin in my direction and then made a “zip it” gesture. It was clear David was still suspicious. Just then, the doctor came in for his rounds. Amelia explained what happened and asked him to take a look. After a brief examination, the doctor confirmed it was just a surface burn and said I was fine to go home. But Amelia wasn’t done. “Doctor, what about his eyes? Is there any change?” The doctor leaned in, shining a light into my eyes. “No, no change. Everything looks the same.” “So… when will he be able to see again?” “That’s impossible to say. But with modern medicine, you never know. I’m sure Mr. Hayes will regain his sight one day.” Thank God. My vision was still blurry enough that the physical signs of recovery weren’t yet visible. Otherwise, the game would have been up right then and there. The doctor’s words seemed to put them at ease. He left, and Amelia went to handle the discharge paperwork while David stayed behind to pack. He watched her walk down the hall, and a look of pure malice crossed his face. He clearly didn’t trust the doctor’s assessment, and his little shower experiment had failed. He wasn’t giving up. My heart pounded as he picked up a fruit knife from the bedside table and started walking towards me, his steps slow and deliberate. On the outside, I was perfectly still. Inside, I was screaming. The tip of the knife came closer, closer, until it was less than an inch from my eye. And then it stopped. Amelia was back. She saw the scene, and her face went rigid. She lunged forward, grabbing David’s wrist. “Are you crazy? Put it down!” she hissed, her eyes wide with panic. Reluctantly, David lowered the knife. “Amelia? Is that you?” I asked, my voice intentionally weak. She took a few deep breaths, forcing herself to sound calm. “Yes, darling, it’s me.” She then launched into a stream of concerned words, fussing over me as she finished packing our things. By the time we got home, it was late afternoon. I was exhausted, and I let David lead me straight to the bedroom. I slept until eight o’clock that night. My stomach was growling, but no one had come to wake me for dinner. I was about to call for Amelia when I heard the sound of laughter coming from the caregiver’s room next door. I slipped out of bed and crept to the door, which was slightly ajar. Through the crack, I saw Amelia propped up against the headboard. David, wearing my pajamas, had his head resting on her stomach. “He just kicked me,” he said, grinning. “You silly goose,” Amelia giggled. “I’m only three months along. You can’t feel anything yet.” Three months. My fists clenched. The timeline clicked into place. They’d been together for a while. I was now one hundred percent certain. I remembered my friends telling me when I first started dating Amelia that she already had a boyfriend. When I asked her about it, she swore they had broken up long ago. I never saw her with anyone else, and after I went blind, her devotion was so complete that I never doubted her. But it was all a lie. Whether David was that old boyfriend or a new one didn’t matter. They were trying to kill me for my money, and for that, there would be no forgiveness. If they wanted to play dirty, then I would show them no mercy. A plan began to form in my mind. I smirked, turned, and went back to the living room. I found a small box of thumbtacks and palmed a few. Then, I returned to their door. They were starting to get more intimate. I cleared my throat loudly. “Amelia? David? Are you in there?” I dragged my foot on the floor, making it sound like I was shuffling blindly, then pushed the door open. They both jumped, startled. David was so shocked he fell off the bed with a muffled thud, scrambling to stay quiet. He frantically motioned for Amelia to go out and deal with me. The pure panic on their faces was a beautiful sight. Amelia slid off the bed and tiptoed to the door. “David? Are you here?” I said, playing the part, waving my hand in the empty air. David finally let out a breath and forced his voice to sound steady. “Leo, yeah, I’m here. I was just taking a nap. What’s up?” As he spoke, I casually dropped the thumbtacks on the floor, just a few feet away from me. “Oh, I was just hungry. I called out a few times, but nobody answered, so I came to find you.” I stood my ground, waiting for him to come to me. Sure enough, he walked right into the trap. The thumbtacks pierced the sole of his foot, and he let out a sharp cry of pain, hopping on one leg. “David, what’s wrong?” I asked, fighting to keep the laughter out of my voice. Amelia came running, having already changed back into her own clothes. “Darling, what’s wrong? Why are you up?” She was talking to me, but her eyes were glued to David. If I hadn’t been standing there, she would have been all over him. I turned my head towards the sound of her voice. “Amelia, where were you?” She hesitated for a second. “I… I just popped out to buy you some new clothes.” A lie so lazy it was insulting. But I let it slide. “David, are you okay?” I asked with fake concern. He had managed to compose himself. “I’m fine,” he said through gritted teeth. “Just twisted my ankle.” “Is it serious? Maybe you should go to the hospital.” They exchanged a look. “Yes, David, you should get it checked out,” Amelia said, her voice laced with worry. “It looks like it’s already swelling.” She looked like she was desperate to tend to his wound herself. David didn’t argue. He limped towards the door, his eyes scanning my face the entire time he passed me. He was still suspicious. After he left, Amelia helped me back to my room. The moment we were inside, she pushed me onto the bed. She stripped off her clothes and leaned in close, whispering in my ear. “Darling, it’s been so long… We have the whole house to ourselves…” She hadn’t let me touch her in months. This sudden display of affection could only mean one thing. David had put her up to this. Another test. I remained perfectly still, then gently pushed her away. “I’m really hungry, Amelia. Could you make me some dumplings?” A flicker of surprise crossed her face, but she got up and went to the kitchen. The night passed with a tense, false peace, the quiet before a storm. But this time, the storm was for them. I slept better than I had in years. The next morning, I was woken by a frantic pounding on the front door.

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My daughter and I died horribly in a cold, abandoned factory. Before the end, I begged our kidnapper to let me make one last call to my wife, to plead with her to save us. But she thought I was putting on an act. Her voice crackled with annoyance through the phone. “Are you ever going to stop?” she snarled. “I haven’t even dealt with you for pushing Julian down the stairs and breaking his arm! Go ahead and die for all I care, just stop bothering me while I’m drying his hair!” She got her wish. Right after she hung up, they killed us. But later, when she could no longer find her husband and daughter, she finally went insane. 1 For a moment, I was disoriented, a weightless soul floating in the air. “Daddy… are we dead?” My daughter’s small, innocent voice came from beside me. My heart clenched as the agonizing memories flooded back. I pulled Hannah into my arms, holding her tight. “Yes, sweetie… But it’s okay. Daddy will be with you forever.” Our deaths had been brutal. Our faces were mangled beyond recognition, our bodies so tortured there wasn’t an unblemished inch of skin left. Even the hardened police officers, men who had seen the worst of humanity, drew a sharp breath when they saw our bodies. “What kind of hatred drives someone to do this?” one of them murmured. “God, it’s tragic. This must be the father. Look at the body… he was trying to shield the kid right to the end…” “Damn. The bodies are too damaged. Identifying them is going to be a nightmare…” I covered Hannah’s eyes. Floating there, watching them photograph our remains, a bottomless well of hatred churned inside me. Perhaps my rage was a force of its own, because in the blink of an eye, we were no longer in the factory. We were standing beside my wife, Sabrina. She was in a private room at the hospital, gently peeling an apple with a look of profound tenderness on her face. “Mommy!” Hannah instinctively started towards her, then stopped. A memory seemed to flash in her eyes, and she hesitated before hiding behind my legs. Sabrina had never wanted to marry me, let alone have a child. She’d always been cold and indifferent to Hannah. Every time our daughter tried to get close, she would be impatiently pushed away. After peeling the apple, Sabrina carefully sliced it into small, perfect wedges, stuck a toothpick in one, and offered it to the man in the hospital bed—Julian. “Here, Julian. You eat this. I’ll dry your hair,” she said, the love and adoration in her eyes a knife twisting in my soul. Julian’s left arm was in a plaster cast, his dark hair still damp. Sabrina expertly plugged in a hairdryer and sat on the edge of the bed. He lowered his head, letting her gently work her fingers through his hair. Her movements were soft and meticulous, a side of her I had never, ever seen. Knock, knock, knock. The door creaked open. Charles, our butler, poked his head in, looking troubled. “Ma’am, regarding Mr. Thorne and Hannah… Are you sure you don’t want to do anything?” Sabrina’s brow furrowed, her face darkening. “Do what? Can’t you see I’m busy? Nathan made up that whole story just to trick me into coming home. A kidnapping? Charles, are you getting dumber?” Her private moment with Julian had been interrupted, and she was clearly annoyed. “Don’t mention his name to me again. If you do, you can pack your bags.” She didn’t know. She couldn’t possibly know that we were already dead. That we had died right after she hung up on my desperate plea for help. I still had a sliver of hope when she answered the phone. “Sabrina! Hannah and I have been kidnapped! Please, you have to help us!” I heard the hairdryer click off, followed by her voice, tight with suppressed fury. “Nathan, are you out of your mind?” “First you push Julian down the stairs and break his arm, ruining his chance to compete in the guitar competition, and now you’re making up this ridiculous story about you and Hannah being kidnapped?” “I’m busy drying Julian’s hair. I don’t have time for your drama.” Then, she hung up without a second thought. “Daddy, does Mommy not want us anymore?” Hannah whispered, tugging on my shirt. A wave of sorrow washed over me. I stroked her hair. “No, sweetie. Mommy wasn’t good to us. It’s we who don’t want her anymore.” She nodded, her expression still so innocent, and I felt a lump form in my throat as tears welled in my eyes. “Don’t cry, Daddy.” Hannah’s voice pulled me back. After being scolded by Sabrina, Charles didn’t dare press the issue. He quietly closed the door and stood guard outside. Watching Sabrina and Julian, so lost in their own world, I thought, She hates us so much, she’ll probably laugh with joy when she finds out we’re dead. After all, with us gone, nothing would stand in the way of her and her one true love. … Julian had only broken his arm, but Sabrina treated him like a fragile treasure, staying by his bedside day and night. Early the next morning, she sent Charles home to pick up breakfast prepared by our cook, Mrs. Gable, and laid it out for him. “Try this, Julian. Let me know if you like it. If not, I’ll get you something else.” She ladled a bowl of soup, scooped up a spoonful, and blew on it gently before bringing it to his lips. Julian drank the soup, and when he looked up, his eyes were glistening with tears. “Sabrina, you’re so good to me… How can I ever repay you?” Sabrina’s heart instantly melted. She put down the bowl and pulled him into a hug. “Don’t talk about repaying me, Julian. You know how I feel about you. It’s never changed.” “But Nathan… and you have a child together…” Julian bit his lip, a shadow of sadness crossing his face. Hearing her beloved misunderstand, Sabrina rushed to explain. “My family forced me to marry Nathan! And the child… it wasn’t my choice. He got me drunk!” “I have never, not for one second, cared about his child!” Her words hit me like a physical blow. I instinctively moved to cover Hannah’s ears, but it was too late. Hannah just stared at Sabrina, her small face pale. After a long moment, she said, “Daddy was right. Mommy is bad. We don’t want her. Don’t be sad, Daddy.” Hearing that, I couldn’t hold back any longer. I hugged my little girl and wept. Sabrina, oblivious, clapped her hands. Charles brought in an exquisite guitar case. “Julian, this is a one-of-a-kind guitar, made by the greatest master craftsman in Italy. There’s only one in the world, and now it’s yours,” she announced. “To me, you’re as unique and precious as this guitar.” Julian blushed, but my own face went white with rage. That guitar… I recognized it. I’d acquired it five years ago during a performance in Vienna. It was my most prized possession. And she was giving it to him? White-hot fury consumed me. I wanted to rush forward, to stop them, but I was nothing but air. My rage was powerless. “This guitar… wasn’t this Nathan’s?” Julian asked, holding the instrument, a strange look in his eyes. “What if he finds out and comes after me?” “Him? He’s not worthy of this guitar,” Sabrina scoffed, her eyes filled with contempt. “I’ll just buy him some cheap replacement to shut him up. He broke your arm; consider this his apology.” “Now, you get some rest, Julian. Tomorrow, when you’re discharged, you’re moving in with me. It’ll be easier for me to take care of you.” She gently stroked his hair, her face radiant with an love she had never once shown me. When Sabrina finally left the room, Charles was still waiting outside. He couldn’t help but speak up. “Ma’am, Mrs. Gable said Mr. Thorne and Hannah haven’t been home in two days… Should we perhaps call the police?” At the mention of our names, Sabrina’s expression turned thunderous. “He’s probably hiding out at some friend’s house with the kid. Call the police? You want me to become a laughingstock for the whole city?” “Charles, I told you not to bring them up. Are you trying to get yourself fired?” Beads of sweat formed on Charles’s forehead. “No, ma’am, of course not. I’m just worried something might have happened…” Sabrina snorted. “What could happen? He’s a manipulative drama queen. There’s nothing to worry about.” Then she muttered under her breath, “They say the wicked live forever. Honestly, I almost wish something would happen to him…” I watched this scene unfold, feeling like my entire six-year marriage had been a colossal joke. The woman I loved, the woman I shared a bed with, had been secretly wishing for my death, and I, like a fool, had been completely oblivious, clumsily trying to win her affection. I never realized just how much she despised me. … After Julian was discharged from the hospital, Sabrina brought him home. The moment they walked through the door, she called for our housekeeper. “Mrs. Gable, where’s Nathan? Tell him to come out here. He needs to pack his things and move into the guest room. Julian will be taking the master bedroom.” Mrs. Gable froze. “Ma’am,” she said quietly, “Mr. Thorne and Miss Hannah… they haven’t been back for a week.” Sabrina’s brow tightened. “Fine. Then you go and move his things into the guest room for him.” As Mrs. Gable hurried to do as she was told, Sabrina grumbled, “Dragging a child around with him while he’s out fooling around for this long. Just wait until he gets back, I’ll give him a piece of my mind!” Julian quickly stepped in to soothe her. “Sabrina, I’m sure Nathan didn’t mean it. He’s probably just upset and needed some time away. Don’t be angry.” “Time away? What right does he have to be upset?” The attempt at comfort only seemed to enrage her further. “Don’t you worry, Julian. When he gets back, I’m going to make him pay for what he did to your arm.” She flopped onto the sofa and switched on the television. “Come, sit with me, Julian. We’ll wait for Mrs. Gable to finish, and then I’ll take you upstairs.” “Sabrina, maybe I should just go back to my own place…” Julian said, biting his lip in a display of false modesty. “If Nathan finds out I’m staying in the master bedroom, he’ll be furious. What if that just makes him stay away longer?” “Then let him stay away forever!” Sabrina snapped, grabbing his wrist and pulling him down beside her. He took the opportunity to settle himself right onto her lap. “Sabrina… you’re so good to me.” Once the room was ready, she led Julian to the master bedroom. Everything was new—toothbrush, toothpaste, towels, slippers—all freshly bought by Mrs. Gable at her direction. “Julian, your hand is injured, so be careful in the shower. Try not to get the cast wet. I’ll be right outside. Call me if you need anything,” she fussed, her concern genuine. I remembered a time I was burning up with a high fever, begging her to pick up Hannah from kindergarten. “Nathan, your little pity party won’t work on me,” she had sneered. “She’s your daughter, you get her. A fever? And you just happen to get it on the same day as Julian’s guitar recital? Are you dying? If not, then get up and go yourself!” She had turned and left without a backward glance. I had to drag myself out of bed, but I collapsed from weakness before I even made it downstairs. Thankfully, Mrs. Gable found me, gave me some medicine, and went to pick up Hannah. And what was Sabrina doing then? Was she backstage with Julian, kissing him amidst a bouquet of red roses? So, she wasn’t incapable of caring. She wasn’t cold-hearted by nature. She just despised me and our daughter. Just then, Sabrina’s phone rang. “Sabrina, dear, I haven’t been able to reach Nathan for a couple of days. Did you two have a fight? Do you know where he is?” It was my mother. “How should I know? He probably took the kid somewhere to play. I’ll have him call you when he gets back,” Sabrina said, rolling her eyes as she lied. Hearing her, I could only manage a bitter, silent smile. I’m sorry, Mom. I won’t be there to take care of you in your old age. “But I saw on the news… there was a murder case,” my mother’s voice was hesitant, laced with a fear she didn’t want to voice. “Nathan and Hannah are missing… You don’t think something happened to them, do you?” “Missing? It’s all an act he’s putting on. Mom, don’t get involved,” Sabrina said, and before my mother could reply, she hung up the phone. Julian put on a concerned face. “Sabrina, is something wrong with Nathan? Your mother-in-law is just worried. Don’t be upset.” Sabrina set her phone to ‘Do Not Disturb’ and tossed it aside. “What could possibly happen to Nathan?” she said dismissively. “A man as vile as him? Even God wouldn’t take him. He’s probably in on it with his mother, cooking up this whole scheme.” Julian covered his mouth and giggled. “Oh, you know Nathan. He just loves you too much. You can’t blame him for trying.” Sabrina pulled him into her arms. “But you’re the only one in my heart,” she whispered. I couldn’t stand to watch the sickening display any longer. I took Hannah’s hand and turned her to face the wall. Another day passed. Finally, the police came to the door. When she opened it and saw the uniforms, Sabrina was visibly startled. “Mrs. Thorne? Your husband and daughter have been missing for four days. We need you to come to the station and identify some bodies.”

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My fiancé left me for his childhood sweetheart at the altar. That night, I drank myself into oblivion. The next morning, I woke up in bed with his older brother. Flushed with shame, I scrambled into my clothes. “This was a mistake,” I stammered. “You don’t owe me anything.” But Eric stared at me, eyes red-rimmed. “Lily,” he whispered hoarsely, “what does he have that I don’t? Why won’t you look at me?” Something shifted in me. That day, we married at the courthouse. For five years, Eric treated me like a queen. Everyone said he’d loved me for ages, and I believed it. Until last night, at a party, I overheard him talking to a friend: “You funneled all your money to Ryan so Mia could have the life she wanted. You even married his ex to get her off their backs. If you love Mia that much, why not marry her yourself?” Eric laughed bitterly. “Mia loves Ryan more. I just want her happy. I’d do anything.” In that moment, my world froze. The love I thought we had was nothing but an elaborate, cruel lie. 1 I fled the hotel, a ghost in the glittering night. Back home, I sank onto the sofa, staring numbly at the worn leather notebook on the coffee table. Its pages were filled with my cramped handwriting, a meticulous record of every penny we spent, every bill we paid. From the day we married, Eric had been the perfect husband—attentive, caring, thoughtful. So when he told me, a year into our marriage, that his business had collapsed and he was broke, I didn’t hesitate. I didn’t feel an ounce of resentment. Instead, I worked harder than ever, determined to stand by him, to help him rebuild everything from the ashes. But now I knew. It wasn’t a tragedy we had endured together. It was a script he had written, and I was the unwitting star of his charade. A pair of arms wrapped around my waist from behind, and a familiar voice, still laced with that practiced tenderness, whispered in my ear. “Lily. What are you doing?” I took a deep breath, snapping the notebook shut. “Just going over the budget,” I said, my voice carefully neutral. A flicker of a frown crossed Eric’s face before it vanished, replaced by his usual look of weary affection. “You’re exhausting yourself,” he murmured, shaking his head. “I keep telling you, you don’t have to work so hard. What’s the point of having a husband if you do everything yourself?” His hand came up to cup my cheek, his eyes swimming with a counterfeit sympathy that was almost convincing. “You should get out more,” he continued softly. “See the world. Be more… free-spirited. Like Mia.” I used to melt when he said things like that, thinking he genuinely cared about my happiness. After all, before him, I was a woman who dreamed of passports filled with stamps and horizons without end. Now, his words were just acid in an open wound. This wasn’t concern. It was a comparison, and I was the one who came up short. He was telling me I wasn’t enough because I wasn’t her. He had no idea. He’d never seen the chaotic frenzy of the 5 AM fish market, never fought through the crowds for a supermarket sale. He had no concept of how the relentless grind of keeping a home, of stretching every dollar, had worn my dreams down to dust. The world he wanted me to see was a luxury I couldn’t afford, all because I was propping up the fantasy life he was funding for his brother and the woman he truly loved. I clenched my fists, forcing a placid expression onto my face. “Did you forget?” I asked, looking up at him. “Today is an important day.” Eric’s brow furrowed in concentration. He searched his memory for a long moment, and then a look of realization dawned on his face. My heart gave a pathetic little leap. He remembered. He remembered our anniversary. But in the next second, his gaze slid past me as he pulled out his phone. “Right, Mia and Ryan said they’d have time for a call today. I can’t believe I almost forgot…” He was already walking away as he spoke. Listening to his retreating footsteps, I felt the last embers of hope in my heart turn to cold, gray ash. The truth was, Eric’s love for Mia was never a secret. It was in the way his voice softened whenever he said her name, a current of emotion running just beneath the surface. My gaze drifted to the watch on his wrist, its metal slightly faded from years of wear. He’d told me once that Mia had given it to him. Back then, I’d convinced myself it was a sentimental gift from a girl he saw as a little sister. I was so naive, so stupidly in love, that I started secretly saving every spare dollar I could, dreaming of buying him a new, expensive watch—one that truly suited him. Only now did I understand what that old watch really symbolized. A bitter laugh escaped my lips. I picked up the small, wrapped gift box from the table, intending to hide it away forever. Just then, Eric ended his call and walked back into the room. “What’s that you’re holding?” he asked, his eyes landing on the box. I instinctively shook my head, trying to tuck it behind my back. His frown returned, and this time, it was laced with impatience. He strode over and plucked the box from my hands before I could resist. He lifted the lid. Inside, nestled on a velvet cushion, was the new watch. “Why did you buy this?” he asked, a hint of confusion in his voice. I forced a brittle smile. “It’s our fifth anniversary. It was… it was your gift.” A flicker of guilt crossed his face. He leaned in and pressed a chaste, meaningless kiss to my forehead. “I’m sorry, I’ve been so busy, I forgot. It’s beautiful. I love it. Okay, let’s get some rest.” With that, he turned and walked into his bedroom, shutting the door firmly behind him. The moment the latch clicked, a sob tore from my throat, and the silent tears I’d been holding back finally began to fall. For the first time, the thought of divorce wasn’t just a fleeting shadow. It was a bright, searing light. But where would I go if I left him? Back to that broken-down apartment that smelled of stale beer and regret? Perhaps his conscience pricked him, because a few days later, Eric did something he’d never done before: he invited a few friends over for dinner. I had longed to be a part of his world, to meet the people he spent his days with, but he always had an excuse. It was a bitter irony that this wish was granted just as I was planning my escape. The house filled with laughter and chatter, a warmth that felt utterly foreign. Then, the doorbell rang. When the door opened and Mia stood on the threshold, the warmth evaporated, and the air in the room froze solid. Eric shot to his feet, a look of pure, unadulterated delight on his face. “Mia! You’re back in the country! You should have told me. Where’s Ryan? Did he let you come all this way by yourself?” Mia graced him with a practiced, perfect smile. “Ryan’s dropping our luggage off at the new place. He’ll be here in a bit.” Her eyes swept the room and landed on me. She glided over, holding out a chic, expensive-looking box. “Lily, it’s been too long. A little something for you two, to make up for not being at the wedding. They’re freshwater pearls, from Paris. You’ve probably never seen any like this.” I stood there, staring at the box in my hand, unable to speak. As Mia made her way to the dining table, Eric instinctively offered her the slice of mille-feuille cake he’d been holding. She took it, and in the same smooth motion, linked her arm through his, leaning against him playfully. “Eric, you remembered my favorite cake,” she cooed. “But you barely talk to me anymore now that you’re a married man. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten all about your little sister?” Eric gave a strained laugh, gently trying to disentangle himself. “Mia, you’re practically engaged yourself. We should probably keep some distance.” She either didn’t hear him or chose to ignore him, tightening her grip on his arm. Her eyes met mine across the room, glittering with triumph. “We grew up together, Eric. Is it so wrong to want to be close after all this time? Besides,” she added, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, “once I marry Ryan, we’ll all be family anyway.” Eric froze. He managed a tight smile and patted her shoulder, but when his gaze met mine, he quickly dropped his hand. Sensing the shift in my mood, he quickly changed the subject. “Oh, Mia, weren’t you saying you needed a new bracelet? Lily has one that would be perfect for you. Let me get it.” Before I could process his words, he was unlocking a display cabinet and pulling out a delicate jade bangle. The moment I saw it, a primal scream rose in my throat. “Eric, no! That was my mother’s! It’s the only thing I have left of her!” His face hardened with annoyance. “Lily, don’t be dramatic,” he said, his voice laced with patronizing frustration. “You’ve never once mentioned it was your mother’s. If you like it so much, I’ll buy you another one. This one is for Mia.” Mia’s eyes lit up as she took the bracelet, turning it over and over in her hands, admiring the way the light caught the stone. My own eyes were glued to her fingers, praying she wouldn’t drop it. But when I looked up from the bracelet to her face, I saw it—a flash of smug, deliberate malice in her eyes. My stomach plummeted. A sickening premonition washed over me. And then, just as I feared, the bracelet slipped from her grasp. It hit the marble floor with a sickening crack, shattering into a dozen pieces. Mia’s hand remained suspended in the air, her face a perfect mask of innocent shock. But her eyes were dancing with victory. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Lily,” she said, her voice dripping with fake remorse. “It just slipped.” I lunged forward, falling to my knees, desperately trying to gather the fragments, to somehow piece my mother’s memory back together. But it was hopeless. It was utterly destroyed. My vision swam with red. I looked up at her, my voice shaking with rage. “You did that on purpose!” At my accusation, Mia’s face crumpled, and she looked as if she were about to burst into tears. Instantly, Eric was at her side, shielding her from me. “Lily, it’s just a bracelet,” he snapped. “Why are you making such a scene?” Just a bracelet? Yes, it was just a cheap piece of jade, bought from a jewelry store for a couple of hundred dollars. But it was the last thing my mother touched before she died. The only tangible piece of her I had left in the world. “I’m so sorry, Lily, I really didn’t mean to,” Mia gasped, and then her breath began to hitch. Her face went pale, and she clutched at her chest. Eric’s expression changed in a heartbeat. Panic contorted his features as he started frantically searching the living room. “The inhaler! Where’s her asthma medication?!” I remained on the floor, surrounded by the ruins of my past, and watched him. I watched the cool, composed man I married dissolve into a frantic mess at the first sign of Mia’s distress. He was completely undone by her. “I threw it out,” I said, my voice eerily calm. “Neither of us has asthma. It was just taking up space.” Eric stared at me, his face a mask of disbelief. For the first time, I noticed his eyes were rimmed with red again, but this time it wasn’t from sorrow. It was from pure rage. “You know she has asthma!” he roared. “Are you trying to kill her?” He swept her up into his arms. As he did, he fumbled with the top button of her blouse, trying to give her more air. My gaze froze. Around her neck, gleaming against her pale skin, was a small, intricately carved good-luck charm. It was identical to the one I had given Eric. As he turned to leave, I shot to my feet and grabbed his sleeve. “Wait,” I demanded, my voice dangerously low. “That charm around her neck. Is that the one I gave you?” Guilt flickered in his eyes, but his tone was harsh and defensive. “She was in an accident a while back. I was worried about her, so I gave it to her for protection. You’re her sister-in-law, after all. I assumed you’d be fine with it.” I laughed. A hollow, broken sound. He assumed. What right did he have to assume anything? What right did he have to give away a piece of my soul? I had climbed the three thousand steps to the shrine on Mount Crestwood for that charm, my forehead raw and bleeding from bowing in prayer at every single step, all for his safety. And in his eyes, all of my devotion, all of my pain, weighed less than a single whim from Mia. “Why would her asthma flare up so suddenly?” Eric muttered, his eyes darting frantically around the room. They landed on a bouquet of lilies on the dining table. His face turned to stone. His jaw clenched. “I told you, no flowers in this house. Ever,” he snarled, his voice a low growl. “You bought those, didn’t you, Lily?” I lifted my chin, meeting his furious gaze without flinching. “This is my home. I’ll put whatever I want in—” CRACK. The word was slapped from my mouth. My head snapped to the side, my cheek stinging with a fiery, humiliating pain. The entire room fell silent. The guests stared, wide-eyed, frozen in place. Eric was shaking, a vein throbbing in his neck. He looked like a stranger, his eyes blazing with a fury I had never seen. But as a single tear escaped my eye and traced a path through the red mark on my cheek, he seemed to falter. The rage in his eyes flickered, replaced by something else. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, his voice thick. “I was just… worried. I’m taking Mia to the hospital. We’ll talk when I get back.” Without another word, he turned and rushed out of the house, carrying her with him. One by one, the guests made their excuses and fled, leaving me alone in the wreckage. A sharp sting in my hand brought me back to the present. I looked down and saw that a shard from the broken bracelet had sliced my finger open. After bandaging the cut, I made a call to my lawyer and asked her to draw up divorce papers. Then I went to my bedroom and quietly packed a single suitcase with everything that was mine. Eric, this game is over. It’s time to bring down the curtain. I signed the divorce papers with a steady hand. I slipped my wedding ring from my finger and placed it on the dining table, next to the papers and a short farewell letter. I sent Eric one last text message, then blocked his number. The papers are on the table. Read them. I’m getting out of the way for you and Mia.

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My girlfriend of several years broke up with me in a single text. My world tilted on its axis. Panicked, I listened to my best friend, who told me to fly home immediately and win her back. But the moment I landed, I saw her. Locked in a passionate, breathless kiss with that same best friend on a busy street corner. When I confronted them, my friend played the victim, while my now ex-girlfriend was completely unfazed. “Ethan’s been down lately, so I’ve been cheering him up. Why do you have to be so selfish?” In that instant, my heart didn’t just break; it was torn to shreds. Later, she came back, crying and begging for a second chance. But by then, I was holding my fiancée’s hand. “Our wedding is tomorrow,” I told her. “You’re welcome to come.” 1. I stood on the street corner, clutching a bouquet of flowers, and watched the couple kissing at the intersection. The August sun was a blinding, brutal thing, but a chill crept deep into my bones. I glanced down at the roses in my arms, their petals still jeweled with drops of water. I’d taken time off work and caught the earliest flight back, all to surprise her. And here she was, my girlfriend, Sophia, kissing my best friend, Ethan, like the world was ending. “Aww, look at them! They’re so cute!” a passerby cooed. “They look so perfect together. When will it be my turn to find a love like that?” I was frozen to the spot, the bouquet in my hands growing heavier by the second. The thorns of the roses bit into my palm, but I couldn’t feel a thing. “Leo!” Ethan’s voice suddenly called out from behind me. I turned to leave, but he grabbed my arm. “It’s not what it looks like…” he panted, out of breath. I shook him off and stared at him, my eyes cold. The collar of his shirt was smeared with Sophia’s lipstick, but his face was a perfect mask of innocence. “So this was your plan all along?” I asked, my voice flat. “You tell me to fly back to get her back, just so I can watch you two make out?” Just then, Sophia sauntered over, linking her arm through Ethan’s. She raised an eyebrow at me. “Who asked you to be here? We broke up, remember?” She’d sent the text last night. I’d flown back in a desperate rush, needing to know why. I never imagined this would be the answer. I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. Suddenly, a cool, crisp voice cut through the tension. “I asked him to be here. Is that a problem?” My head snapped up. Cristine was striding toward us on sharp heels, wearing a dress the color of moonlight that made her seem ethereal and untouchable. “Cristine?” Sophia’s expression soured instantly. Cristine came to my side and slipped her arm through mine as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “Weren’t we supposed to meet up today? What are you doing here?” She glanced at the roses in my arms and let out a light laugh. “And you brought flowers? I told you not to go to so much trouble.” I was speechless. Sophia’s face grew even darker. “You two are…” “What? Are you the only one allowed to be with Ethan?” Cristine tilted her head, a deceptively innocent smile playing on her lips. 2. Ethan’s expression froze. I looked down at Cristine. She glanced up at me and winked, her long lashes fluttering like a butterfly’s wings. I never thought I’d see her again. She, Ethan, and I had grown up together. The woman before me was tall and stunningly beautiful, a world away from the skinny girl I remembered. The last time I’d seen her was the day my family went bankrupt. She had clung to me, crying, before her parents pulled her away. Five years had changed everything. Sophia glared at Cristine. “Why did you tell him to come here?” Cristine ignored her completely. She took the flowers and the cake box I was holding, linked her arm more firmly in mine, and said in a voice of pure ice, “He’s my boyfriend. It’s none of your business why I called him.” And just like that, I found myself attending Cristine’s party as her “boyfriend.” The restaurant was cast in a dim, yellow light, the atmosphere thick with unspoken tension. I hadn’t eaten since I got on the plane, and the hunger was starting to overpower the heartbreak. I just wanted to fill the gnawing emptiness in my stomach. Ethan sat across from me, picking at his food, his eyes constantly darting in my direction. Sophia impatiently placed a piece of sushi on his plate. “Why do you keep staring at Leo? It’s not like he’s on the menu.” When Ethan still didn’t move, she frowned, her voice rising. “Relax. No one’s going to attack you here.” Her words were like a lit match dropped on the gasoline of my suppressed anger. I slammed my fork down on the table with a sharp crack, my eyes locked on hers. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Sophia flinched, her lips parting, but no words came out. She just glowered, her knuckles white around her chopsticks. I turned my furious gaze on Ethan. “Am I the one bullying you? Or did you do something you should be ashamed of? You know the answer to that.” He shook his head frantically, his eyes shifting away as beads of sweat formed on his forehead. The tension was suffocating. Unfazed, Cristine calmly peeled a shrimp, placed it on my plate, her movements as graceful as a performance. “Your boyfriend seems a bit… timid,” she remarked to Sophia, her voice casual. “Maybe don’t bring him out in public next time.” Ethan’s face flushed a deep crimson. He shot up from his seat. “I need to use the restroom,” he mumbled, before hurrying away. The lively chatter of the party resumed, but the sounds felt distant, muffled by the frantic pounding of my own heart. 3. After the meal, exhaustion washed over me. I decided to leave early. Cristine had gone to pay the bill, so I got up to follow her, wanting to thank her properly. The hallway was dimly lit, her silhouette sharp and lonely against the far wall. The sound of my footsteps echoed. She must have heard me, because she stopped and turned, her expression softening. “What’s wrong?” “Thank you,” I said, “for today.” I looked at her, and it felt like looking at her across a lifetime. Her eyes were still as clear as I remembered, but now they held a new, complex depth. Cristine leaned gently against the wall. “Leo, do you remember the promise you made me, the day before you left?” My mind flashed back to that sweltering summer. The day before my family moved, I had promised to take her to the amusement park. A promise I never kept. “The amusement park?” “When can we go?” Her eyes were full of hope. Seeing that look, the dam of resentment I’d been holding back all day finally broke. My throat felt tight, clogged with unspoken words. I looked down, my voice hoarse. “Some other time. I promise I’ll take you.” Cristine watched me, a flicker of disappointment in her eyes. Just when I thought she wouldn’t say anything more, she whispered, “Okay, fiancé.” The word sent a jolt of warmth through me, chasing away the last of the pain. When we were kids, our parents used to joke that we’d get engaged when we grew up. I always protested loudly back then. I never imagined she’d bring it up again after all these years. Looking at her, a strange sense of comfort settled over me, as if her presence alone could heal all my wounds. 4. Cristine had to leave early for another engagement. I planned to use the restroom before heading back to a hotel. But as I approached, I saw Ethan. He was standing by the door, clearly waiting for me. I noticed the faint, reddish marks on his neck. As soon as I stepped out, he rushed forward and grabbed my hand. “I’m so sorry, Leo. I really am. I don’t know how this happened. Please, forgive me,” he pleaded, his face a caricature of remorse. Disgust curdled in my stomach. I yanked my hand away and pulled out my phone. “You said you booked me a hotel at the usual spot,” I said, my voice cold. “How much was it? I’ll transfer you the money.” Ethan froze, the apology on his face deepening. “I’m sorry, man. I’ve been so swamped lately, I… I forgot.” My thumb hovered over the screen. I looked at him, really looked at him. We’d been inseparable for three years in high school. He was the one who encouraged me to fly back, who told me he’d booked a hotel so all I had to do was show up. And now this. I put my phone away, my gaze turning to ice. “You did this on purpose.” “No, Leo, I swear I didn’t! All the hotels around here are booked solid, and Sophia has been… so clingy. Look, why don’t you just stay at my place tonight?” he offered, his face a mask of earnest concern. Looking at him, I felt sick. I turned to walk away, but he blocked my path again. “Leo, I forgot to tell you,” he said urgently. “Cristine… she has a boyfriend. What she did earlier… she was just trying to help you out. Don’t get the wrong idea.” I let out a cold laugh. His performance was truly masterful. I ignored him and pushed past. He tried to follow, but his foot caught on the doorstep, and he went sprawling to the ground. His head and wrist hit the tile with a sickening crack, and blood immediately started to well up. “What do you think you’re doing?” Sophia’s voice shrieked. She had appeared from nowhere and was now helping Ethan up. “Why did you push him? I’m the one who wanted to break up! I’m the one who likes him! What right do you have to hurt him? Leo, you’re a monster!” I stared, stunned, from her to Ethan, who was now leaning against her. His eyes were brimming with a universe of unspoken hurt, but he didn’t say a single word to defend me. Ethan was rushed to the hospital, and because I was involved, Sophia dragged me along. The doctor examined Ethan’s wounds and sighed. “This looks nasty. How did he lose so much blood?” Sophia’s face hardened as she glared at me. “There. Are you happy now, Leo? Ethan’s bleeding all over the place. I hope you’re satisfied!” I looked at Ethan, who still refused to speak. I took a deep breath. “He tripped and fell. It has nothing to do with me. Is he going to blame the floor for being in his way?” Sophia’s expression grew even colder. “Stop pretending, Leo. Don’t think I don’t know why you came back. You saw us together and you couldn’t stand it, so you had to push him, to hurt him! You’re pathetic!” I looked at the disgust in her eyes and felt like our four years together had been a complete waste. After my family went bankrupt, we moved next door to her. My grades plummeted from the stress of it all. But Sophia had a crush on me. She stayed after school every day to tutor me. Even now, I could remember the words she’d said when she confessed her feelings. I never doubted the sincerity of that moment. But sincerity, I was learning, has a short shelf life. Looking at the person in front of me, I was filled with a single, overwhelming thought: I regret everything. A wave of exhaustion so profound it felt like it might drown me washed over my body. But I forced myself to stand straight, pulled my phone from my pocket, and dialed 911. The moment the words, “911, what’s your emergency?” came through the speaker, Sophia lunged, snatched the phone from my hand, and smashed it on the floor. “Enough!” she screamed. “How long are you going to keep this up? I don’t want to see you! Get out!” I looked at the shattered remains of my phone on the tile. I bent down, picked up the largest piece, and with a sudden, violent motion, I threw it straight at her face. A shard of the screen grazed her cheek, leaving a thin, red line. I came back to win her back, not to be her punching bag. She froze, staring at me in shock. I turned to a nurse who was watching the whole scene unfold. “Could you please call the police for me? That phone she just destroyed was worth a thousand dollars.” I saw the nurse start to make the call. And then, the world started to spin. My body gave out, and I crumpled to the floor.

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I’d recently set a small goal for myself: to become an accident in the eternal partnership of the vampire prince, Alexis. The first step of my plan was a letter, penned with a quill, which I quietly left outside the iron gate of the grim castle that overlooked the entire domain. I didn’t dare write anything too explicit, opting instead to copy down a sentimental little love poem, hinting at my willingness to offer my warm blood and pure soul. I imagined his pale, slender hand, adorned with a signet ring, breaking the seal. What would his expression be? Would he be amused? Or would he scoff at the audacity of an ant? Unfortunately, the letter vanished without a trace. I suspect one of the castle’s silent servants swept it into an incinerator along with the fallen leaves. I wasn’t discouraged. After all, attracting a creature that has lived for thousands of years requires patience. He was a prince of the bloodline, the monarch of this land of eternal night. But I had my own advantages—a young life, fresh blood, and a decent face. Soon, my chance arrived. It was the annual Day of the Holy Feast, when the castle distributed provisions to the nearby townspeople. Under the pretext of collecting alms, I finally managed to get close to the fabled fortress. As my fingertips intentionally-but-not-intentionally brushed against the edge of his carriage—the cold metal carved with his family crest—my heart hammered as if it would burst from my chest. Finally, he impatiently drew back the velvet curtain. In that instant, our eyes met. A flicker of surprise crossed his inhuman, crimson irises—the color of aged blood—shocked that a boy would have the nerve to cross him in a place like this. I quickly fluttered my round eyes and offered him a smile I had practiced countless times, a carefully crafted blend of shyness and innocence. I did my best to look like a harmless fawn that had wandered into a forest of eternal night. To be fair, I knew I was likely his type. I was lean, with slightly downturned eyes, like some kind of puppy. My chin was pointed, and my cheeks still held a touch of baby fat, making anyone who saw me assume I was just a student fresh from the cloisters. But he only furrowed his brow. An invisible force shoved me back, sending me sprawling to the ground. I understood immediately: this attempt was another failure. I bit my lip and lowered my head as his indifferent guards hauled me beyond the castle grounds, my heart filled with humiliation and resentment. I thought it was all over. To my surprise, a dark figure appeared silently in my shabby lodgings that night, stating in a monotone voice that the prince wanted to see me. I was brought into the grand, somber hall of the castle I had only heard of in legends. Alexis sat upon a massive throne carved from obsidian, his tone as cold as if he were judging a heretic. “”State your purpose. Who sent you?”” Panic flared in my chest, but I quickly steeled myself. I had to seize this chance. Forcing my voice into a softer register, I began, on the verge of tears, “”I—I wasn’t… Master, I truly… I admire you, I long for you… Please, give me a chance. Taste my blood!”” “”I already have a consort,”” he cut me off, his voice devoid of warmth. “”I know! I—I’m willing to be your most humble blood thrall!”” I blurted out, throwing all caution to the wind. I lowered my voice, continuing my plea. “”Master, I also know you have a taste for young life. I’ll never disturb your consort, I only beg you…”” His brow twitched violently, and he looked at me as if I were a buzzing fly. He let out a long breath and waved a hand. “”From this day forward, you are permanently banished. If you take one step into my domain again, you will be executed on the spot.”” “”No!”” The words sent a jolt of panic through me. This was my only hope; I couldn’t be driven away like this! I scrambled forward and knelt at his feet, clinging tightly to his cold, gleaming leather boots. “”Master, let me stay, please let me stay! My blood flows truly for you! Don’t send me away, I’m begging you!”” He seemed startled by my actions. I knelt before him, looking up with tear-filled eyes, and surreptitiously wiped a few of those tears onto the immaculate surface of his boot. My cheeks were flushed from the emotion of it all, the warmth of my life a stark contrast in his frigid domain. I saw him falter for a fraction of a second, his Adam’s apple bobbing unconsciously. But his coldness returned in an instant. He kicked me away and summoned the guards. Like a heap of rags, I was dragged from the castle and thrown onto the cold cobblestone road. Chapter 2 It was ruined. Everything was ruined. I sat at the edge of the town farthest from the castle, hugging my pathetically small collection of belongings, my head hanging in defeat. This wasn’t how the story was supposed to go! Wasn’t I supposed to use my youthful body and sweet blood to seduce him? Wasn’t Alexis supposed to be tempted by primal desire and pull me into his arms? Weren’t we supposed to spend our nights in passion beneath gothic spires, until I finally achieved eternal life and became his most cherished night-pet? Where did I go wrong? I pulled out the communicator I had hidden away and dialed the number of my “”mentor,”” Samuel. When I’d graduated, orphaned and alone, I was drowning in the massive debt my family had left behind. I had always been vain and lazy, constantly scheming for a shortcut to the top. Honest work? It would take an eternity to escape my impoverished fate that way. “”You could just do what I did and find a powerful blood-drinker to protect you!”” Samuel had said when he heard my troubles, generously sharing his experience. My interest was immediately piqued. “”How do I find one?”” I asked, shameless in my pursuit of knowledge. “”You have to be proactive,”” Samuel told me. “”Those ancient creatures are always curious about new life. Look at me—I’m about to sign a formal contract with the Baron of the Jinghe family.”” “”But I heard the Baron already has retainers.”” “”What’s there to be afraid of?”” Samuel waved his hand dismissively. “”Eternal life is boring. They always need new toys. As long as you can get him addicted to you, he’ll do anything for you.”” It was a revelation. With his guidance, I pored over the roster of nobles in the domain, finally settling on the one at the very top: Prince Alexis. Before I left, Samuel had clapped me firmly on the shoulder and said, “”Don’t forget me when you’re rich and famous!”” But now, before my grand ambitions could even take flight, I’d been mercilessly banished. On the other end of the communicator, Samuel listened to my tearful account and offered a new idea. “”Why don’t you go directly to his consort? Tell him Alexis has already tasted your blood. Harass him, force him to acknowledge your existence. At the very least, you might get some money out of him to keep you quiet. It wouldn’t be a total loss.”” That was certainly one way to handle it. I tossed and turned all night on the cot in my dingy inn room, finally deciding to confront the consort, a man named Leander. Before setting out, I carefully researched Leander’s life. He was just some ancient vampire who liked to read books. As for his face… I touched my chin, studying a blurry portrait of him that had circulated from who-knows-where. He was about on par with me, I figured. The number of men and women who had confessed their love to me over the years numbered in the thousands, if not tens of thousands, but I hadn’t been interested in any of them. After all, entering the world of the bloodline, becoming an immortal being—that was my ultimate goal. My plan was perfect: Leander was a noble of high standing. If I threw my shame to the wind and caused a scene at the antiquarian library he frequented, he would surely compromise to protect his dignity and reputation. Once a crack formed in their relationship, I could slip in. The position of prince’s consort would be mine for the taking. The only flaw in my brilliant plan was that I had misjudged myself—I wasn’t very good at throwing my shame to the wind. I managed to track Leander’s movements, but after entering the library several times, I just couldn’t bring myself to deliver the declaration of war I had prepared. Dejected, I sat in the darkest corner of the reading room, watching Leander explain ancient texts to a few young vampires in a voice as smooth as flowing water. He would occasionally drop a witty remark, drawing pleasant laughter from his audience. “”Lord Leander is so charming!”” a girl next to me whispered. “”How can there be such a perfect vampire in this world!”” “”I know, right? But Lord Leander has been with the prince forever. I hear their bond is unbreakable.”” The more I listened, the angrier I got. I couldn’t stand it anymore. I shot to my feet, ready to leave. The sound of my chair scraping against the floor startled the girl beside me and caught the attention of Leander at the lectern. “”This… human?”” he asked gently, his violet eyes holding a hint of curiosity. “”Is there a problem?”” I shook my head violently and fled the library like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. Chapter 3 This latest failure struck a deep blow to my fragile little heart. I lay in bed, tossing and turning. At this rate, when would I ever become the prince’s companion? A thought suddenly flashed through my mind: I should just kidnap Leander. I was shocked by my own depravity, but the more I thought about it, the more feasible it seemed. No, not kidnap, just… scare him a little. If I couldn’t make him break up with Alexis, then at the very least, he had to give me some hush money! No sooner said than done. After scouting for several days, I finally found the perfect opportunity and cornered him on the quiet path leading from the library back to the castle. “”Who are you?”” Leander wasn’t panicked by my ambush. He simply raised an eyebrow, looking at me. “”You don’t need to know who I am. I came to say something to you.”” It was my first time doing something like this, and my heart was pounding. I tried to make my voice sound tougher. The beat of it was so loud in the silent night that I could feel his gaze piercing my skin, “”listening”” to the blood rushing through my veins. Leander must have been laughing internally as he watched me pretend to be calm. He probably saw me as a hissing kitten on the side of the road, utterly harmless. “”I… I want you to leave Alexis!”” I shouted, mustering all my courage. “”Oh?”” He looked at me with disbelief, and then his figure vanished before my eyes. In the next second, an immense force slammed me against the cold brick wall of the alley. A frigid hand clamped around my neck, choking off my breath. “”And why should I?”” The sudden reversal of power terrified me. Leander’s strength was immense; the pressure on my throat made it almost impossible to breathe. The fear of death made my brain work sluggishly. I couldn’t tell him it was because I wanted to take his place—he might actually snap my neck on the spot. I wanted money, not death! “”Still not talking?”” He saw my hesitation and his grip tightened. “”Should I help you by pulling out your tongue?”” “”Don’t! Don’t kill me!”” I began to struggle. “”I’ll talk, I’ll talk! It’s because… because I’ve fallen in love with you! Lord Leander!”” He froze for a moment, and the pressure on my neck eased. I seized the chance to slip from his grasp, gasping for air while backing away. “”That’s right. It’s because I’ve fallen in love with you. It was love at first sight, my lord.”” I started spouting nonsense, putting on my most sincere face to convince him. He quickly recovered, his brow furrowing for a moment before relaxing into a playful smile. “”A human from which town? What’s your name?”” “”I’m… I’m Samuel, from the east side of town.”” Sorry, my friend. I had to borrow your name. “”Alright, Samuel,”” he said, and to my astonishment, he believed me. “”As it happens, my lover is out hunting tonight. Why don’t you come to the castle for a visit? We can have a nice long talk about your… admiration.”” My mind raced. Alexis wasn’t there, so my cover wouldn’t be blown, and I could finally get inside the castle of my dreams. “”Of course, my lord!”” I eagerly approached him, taking his cold hand and feigning an overwhelmed, honored expression. He actually returned a gentle smile, his long fingers stroking my tousled hair as he led me home. Chapter 4 Leander brought me to his castle in the heart of the eternal night. The moment I stepped inside, I was struck by the enormous portrait of him and Alexis that dominated the grand hall. The aura of absolute power radiating from the two figures in the painting made me involuntarily take a step back. A pair of cold hands steadied me from behind. “”What’s wrong?”” Leander asked, a hint of a smile in his voice. “”N-nothing!”” I forced myself to take another step into the room. What’s there to be nervous about? I told myself. Don’t forget why you’re here! With that thought, my confidence returned. “”Lord Leander, your lover looks so… imposing,”” I said, adding a silent, Unlike you, who is both gentle and beautiful. He didn’t respond to my comment. “”Samuel, please have a seat on the sofa in the drawing room. I’ll get you a… warm drink. I’ll be right back.”” I sank into the velvet sofa, dazed. The exquisite fabric instantly soothed me, and I melted into it like an eel. Damn, the life of a vampire noble was good. I looked up to see Leander pouring me a glass of warm milk, playing the part of the gracious host. Another thought sparked in my mind: if I couldn’t win over Alexis, becoming Leander’s servant wouldn’t be so bad. He was handsome and gentle, and he could support me with Alexis’s wealth. The more I considered it, the more I liked the idea. I decided to offer some pleasantries to my new target. “”Lord Leander, do you need any help?”” “”Why, yes,”” his pleasant voice floated across the vast hall. “”Could you please stoke the fire in the fireplace for me?”” “”Right away!”” I shot up from the sofa and hurried to the fireplace, earning an appreciative smile from him. Just as I was basking in this false warmth, the heavy castle door creaked open, followed by a familiar, cold voice. “”I’m home.”” It was Alexis. What? A mouthful of warm milk caught in my throat. I wanted to shove my head into the fireplace. How could he be back? Didn’t Leander say he was out hunting and wouldn’t return until tomorrow? This was a trap! The two vampires had conspired against me! I was done for. My heart pounded so hard it rang in my ears. I wished desperately for a magic portal to appear and swallow me whole. “”We have a guest?”” The deep, commanding voice I had only heard in legends spoke. Alexis hadn’t seen my face yet; he was undoing the clasp of his blood-stained cloak, and the thick scent of iron made my stomach turn. “”A young man who… admires me,”” Leander replied calmly from his seat across from me, as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world. “”Excellent. My hunt was less than satisfying. He can be dessert.”” With that, Alexis turned and walked toward me. I buried my head in the sofa cushions. Don’t look at me, don’t look at me… The footsteps stopped. I felt a gaze as sharp as a knife land on me. More importantly, he had caught my scent. It was over. “”Lift your head,”” he commanded, his tone brooking no argument. What should I do? My mind went blank. I buried my head even deeper. “”Samuel, lift your head,”” Leander’s voice was still gentle and pleasant, but to me, it now sounded like the devil’s summons. “”Allow me to introduce you. This is my lover, Alexis. Alexis, this is my admirer, Samuel.”” A hand like an iron clamp seized my shoulder and yanked me from the sofa. When I saw the mixture of shock and fury on Alexis’s handsome face, I knew everything was ruined. “”You?”” His voice rose sharply. My legs gave out, and I nearly crumpled to the floor, but the hand on my shoulder held me fast, the grip painfully tight. Terrified and in pain, I could only stammer out a plea. “”P-Prince, my lord, I didn’t mean to… Lord Leander and I met by chance, yes, by chance!”” “”By chance he brought you back to the castle?”” Alexis’s glare looked like it could flay me alive. He turned to the other vampire. “”Rio, what in the hell are you playing at!”” Leander, who had remained calmly seated the entire time, watched as if he were a mere spectator. He glanced at me lazily. “”You two know each other?”” “”He’s the human from a few days ago, the one who tried to climb into my bed. His name is Rio,”” Alexis explained, dragging me forward like a piece of evidence. “”He was banished after his failed attempt to seduce me. He must hold a grudge and is trying to get back at me through you!”” “”Oh. So your name isn’t Samuel,”” Leander said, his gaze settling on me. His eyes were calm, but they sent a chill deep into my bones. He gestured for Alexis to let me go. The moment Alexis released me, I collapsed before them like a boneless snake. All my dignity, all my plans, vanished into thin air. All I wanted was to live. “”I’m not! I wasn’t trying to get revenge! Prince Alexis, Lord Leander, please spare my life!”” “”Spare you?”” A hint of amusement entered Leander’s voice, as if he’d heard a funny joke. He tapped my inner thigh with the polished tip of his leather boot. “”We’re not barbaric demons. Why would we take your life?”” Alexis’s brow furrowed even deeper. “”He’s tried to sabotage our relationship multiple times. Could he be a spy from a rival clan?”” “”No! No!”” I was scared out of my wits. I lunged forward and hugged Alexis’s leg, sobbing uncontrollably as I confessed my entire stupid “”seduction”” plan. Talk about trying to steal a chicken only to lose the rice used to lure it. My gut twisted with regret. I blamed everything on my friend, Samuel. It was all his fault! He was the one who tempted me to seduce a vampire! Otherwise, how could a fine young human like me end up in such a mess? When I finished, a dead silence fell over the room, broken only by my muffled sobs. Finally, Leander spoke. He looked up at his lover. “”Alexis, what do you want to do with this little rat?”” Alexis looked back at him. I saw a complex emotion flash in his eyes—a mixture of desire and fury. Then, I heard the sentence that would decide my fate. “”Drag him to the dungeon,”” Leander said. Chapter 5 “”No! No! Not the dungeon!”” The words pierced me like icicles. My mind instantly flooded with all the horrific tales of vampire dungeons. A face like mine wouldn’t last long in a place like that. I just wanted to be rich; I didn’t want to be drained of blood and turned into a mummy! My face went pale with terror. I scrambled toward Leander and clung to his leg, smearing tears and snot all over him. “”Lord Leander, Professor Leander! I was wrong, I truly know I was wrong! I’ll get out of here right now, I’ll disappear! I promise, I swear, I will never appear before you again!”” I cried a river of tears, and through my blurry vision, I could see that both of them wore complicated expressions. Alexis had already summoned the guards, who were preparing to drag me away. In that moment, I felt true despair. “”Don’t! Please, don’t kill me!”” I shrieked, nearly lunging to bite him. A foot pressed down on my thigh, the gentle pressure sending a sharp pain through me that made me gasp. It was Leander. He had stopped me with effortless ease. “”We don’t have to kill you,”” he said, crouching down. His cold fingers gripped my jaw, forcing me to look into his eyes. “”But what will you offer as compensation?”” Alexis waved the guards away. I stared at Leander in horror. I had been completely wrong. This seemingly gentle, elegant vampire noble was far more terrifying than the decisive, battle-hardened Prince Alexis. “”C-compensation? I don’t have any money…”” My voice trembled. “”We don’t want your money.”” A smile I couldn’t comprehend played on his lips. “”We want you. Your body, your blood, your everything.”””

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When my life became a story, I knew nothing about the plot except for my name. I woke up one day inside a novel I now know is called The CEO’s Crimson Contract. For the longest time, I was convinced I was the heroine. It made a perfect, beautiful sense. The protagonist’s name was Aurora, and my name—Elora—was its echo. The day I met my husband, Alaric, I fell in love so instantly and completely that I was sure I was the luckiest woman alive. But three years into our marriage, an intern named Aurora started at his company. And that’s when the voice in my head told me I’d gotten it all wrong. The heroine wasn’t the echo. It was the other way around. I wasn’t the star of the show. I was just the warm-up act. The disposable first wife. … [Elora, it’s time to face reality.] For the three months since Aurora had first walked through the doors of Aethelgard Industries, that voice—the one that called itself the System—had been a constant, cruel whisper in the back of my mind. [You aren’t the heroine, ‘Aurora.’ You’re the forgotten side character, ‘Elora.’ The story is correcting itself. The hero is destined to fall for the heroine. You are destined to be discarded.] I ignored it, just as I had every other time. I focused on the task at hand: arranging candles for the third-anniversary dinner I was making for Alaric and me. I wasn’t the heroine, maybe. But three years of marriage couldn’t be a lie. The feeling was real, even if the story wasn’t mine. When I first arrived in this world, I was just a grad student studying abroad. The moment I saw him, my heart simply gave itself away, no questions asked. I pursued him with a single-mindedness that felt like fate. And fate, it seemed, answered. One afternoon, in a grimy alley near my apartment, I found him. He was bleeding, weakened, leaning against a dumpster as if his strength had evaporated. He’d been shot with some kind of specialized silver round. The sunlight, slanting between the buildings, was like a physical poison against his skin. I didn’t hesitate. I threw my trench coat over him, shielding him with my own body as I frantically called an Uber, getting him to the private, unmarked address he’d managed to whisper. To repay what he called a life debt, Alaric offered me a blood bond and, with it, a marriage contract. After the wedding, he remained distant, a man carved from beautiful, cold marble. But his actions… his actions were warm. When my period cramps were agonizing, he would disappear into his high-tech private medical lab and return with a small IV bag of dark, rich fluid. He’d call it a “family nutritional supplement,” his touch gentle as he hooked it to my vein and let it drip, slowly, into me. The relief was immediate, a wave of warmth and strength that washed away the pain. Once, I mindlessly liked a picture on Instagram—a box of macarons from a century-old patisserie in Paris. The next day, he returned from a business trip to New York. Sitting on the table of his private jet was that exact same box, the confections still impossibly fresh. It was in these moments that I learned to read his love language. His affection wasn’t in words, but in quiet, overwhelming gestures. He was a man whose actions screamed the devotion his lips would never speak. I didn’t believe a heart like that could change. After placing the last fork, I glanced at the ornate clock on the wall. 8:23 PM. He should have been home from the office by now. Usually, he was. I called him. “Honey, what time will you be home tonight?” There was a pause on the other end, a pocket of silence that felt too heavy. Then, his voice, a low, magnetic rumble that always made my heart skip. “Elora. I’m sorry. Something’s come up. I won’t be home for dinner. You should eat without me.” Each word was a hammer blow against my chest. My fingers tightened on my phone. “Do you remember what today is…?” Before I could finish, the line went dead. He’d hung up. A cold dread coiled in my stomach. And then, the System’s voice returned, slick and venomous. [Do you want to see what your husband is doing right now?] I didn’t. God, I didn’t. But the System never gave me a choice. An image flooded my mind, vivid and unwelcome. Alaric was in the emergency room of the city’s most expensive private hospital. He was kneeling, his movements impossibly gentle as he massaged the swollen ankle of a young woman on the hospital bed. It was Aurora. And in his silver-grey eyes—eyes that were always so cool and distant with me—was a universe of raw, unguarded worry. A thousand silver needles pierced my heart all at once. The pain was everywhere. The System’s voice was as cold as a morgue slab. [Do you see? The hero’s heart is already turning toward the heroine. If you refuse to let go, the plot will ensure you end up dead in the street. And your family in the human world? They’ll meet with unfortunate accidents as well…] My hand clenched into a fist, my nails digging into my palm. I bit down on my lip, hard, just to keep myself from trembling. A consequence like that… Could I really afford to bear it? Chapter 2 Alaric didn’t come home until the next morning. He walked in and slipped off his jacket, holding it out to me with the easy familiarity of routine. I saw the exhaustion etched into the lines of his face. My eyes fell to his cuff, and I froze. A small, distinct coffee stain marred the crisp white fabric. I frowned. “What’s this?” He followed my gaze, his tone flat. “Aurora spilled it yesterday when she was bringing me a file. She twisted her ankle in the process, so I took her to the hospital.” He paused, then added, “I only learned recently that she’s the daughter of an old family associate. I owe her adoptive father a great debt.” We had known each other for five years, been married for three. It was the most he had ever said to me at one time. And it was all about another woman. When the System had threatened me, I’d brushed it off as a bad dream. When he missed our anniversary dinner, I’d chosen to believe him. But now, seeing the flicker of unguarded focus in his eyes as he spoke of Aurora—that shattered every last bit of my denial. I looked down, my fingers clenching and unclenching at my sides. After a long silence, I finally managed to speak, my voice barely a whisper. “Alaric, I don’t like her. Can you transfer her to another department?” “No.” The refusal was instant and absolute. “I made a promise to her father. It’s a promise I have to keep.” “I’m just asking you to move her, not fire her,” I pressed, hearing the desperate edge in my own voice. “You can’t even do that?” His face darkened. “Elora, she’s my executive assistant, that’s all. Are you always this petty? Does this mean I can’t hire any female employees from now on?” Petty. It was the first time he had ever used a word like that for me. In that moment, the absurdity of my situation crashed down on me. I had endured three months of psychological torture from the System, clinging to the belief that our love was real, that he was worth fighting for. How ridiculous it all seemed now. I said nothing more, just silently took his jacket to the laundry room. But the coffee stain felt like a stain on our marriage, and no matter how hard I scrubbed, it wouldn’t come out. I was about to throw the ruined jacket into the trash when a small velvet box tumbled out of the inside pocket. My breath caught. It was an emerald necklace, one I’d admired in a shop window months ago. Just then, two strong arms wrapped around me from behind. Alaric, fresh from the shower, pressed his cool skin against my back. “It’s your anniversary gift, Elora. I didn’t forget.” He smelled of pine and cold air, the same scent as my own body wash. He placed a soft kiss on my forehead. “I’m heading to the office. We’ll celebrate properly tonight.” My traitorous heart fluttered, the hope I was trying so hard to kill stirring back to life. But as I was straightening his tie, his phone rang. It was Aurora. “Mr. Aethelgard, I… I think I need to resign…” I was standing so close I could hear every word. I could hear the manufactured tears in her voice. “Everyone at the office is talking,” she sobbed. “They’re saying I’m trying to break up your marriage. I don’t know how a rumor like that could have started, but I can’t stay here anymore…” “Don’t worry,” Alaric soothed her, his voice low and reassuring. “I’ll take care of it.” He ended the call and his eyes, now cool and laced with suspicion, settled on me. I recoiled as if struck. “You think I did that?” He didn’t deny it. He grabbed my wrist, his grip like steel. “You spread those rumors just because I wouldn’t transfer her? You’re coming with me to the office right now to clear this up.” He dragged me out of the apartment, ignoring my struggles. The moment we walked onto the executive floor, a hush fell. Employees, once busy at their desks, now shot us veiled, curious glances. Aurora appeared, her eyes red and tear-filled, limping dramatically toward me. “Mrs. Aethelgard, I swear, there is nothing going on between Mr. Aethelgard and me. He didn’t come home yesterday because he was taking me to the hospital, but only because I sprained my ankle…” A cold laugh escaped my lips. “Are you telling me he’s the only person you know in this entire city? You had to bother him for something so minor? He’s your boss, not your father. If every employee with a scraped knee ran to him for help, he might as well shut down the company and open a daycare.” Aurora faltered, her eyes darting to Alaric for support. Alaric’s brow furrowed. “That’s enough. Aurora is different. I made a promise to take care of her.” The protectiveness in his voice was a physical blow. I stared at him, a bitter taste filling my mouth. Five years, and this was the first time I had ever seen him defend another woman against me. In front of his entire executive team, he stood tall, his expression severe. “Miss Aurora is the daughter of a dear friend. I have a responsibility to look after her. I don’t want to hear any more of these ridiculous rumors in this office. Is that clear?” I stood beside him, a statue of a jealous wife on public trial, enduring the pitying, contemptuous stares of everyone in the room. A humorless smile touched my lips. Right. Aurora had done nothing wrong. I was the one at fault. My only mistake was believing our love was indestructible. Chapter 3 After the spectacle at the office, Alaric had the driver take me home. I sat on the edge of our bed for a long time, staring into space. My gaze drifted to a photo frame on the nightstand. It was a picture of me with my family—my real family, from the world I’d left behind. Mom, Dad, and my older brother, all of us smiling under a summer sun. The System’s threat echoed in my mind, and with it came the horrifying visions it had shown me. My mother, her gentle smile frozen on her face, hit by a speeding car. My father, a man of quiet dignity, falling from the top of a skyscraper. My brother, his bright, easy grin gone forever, stabbed to death in a dark alley, his body left unrecognizable. The air in my lungs turned to poison. I couldn’t breathe. After what felt like an eternity, I did something I had never done before. I reached out with my mind, calling to the voice. “System. You want me to leave him, don’t you? I’ll do it. I’ll do whatever you want. But you have to send me back. Send me home to my own world.” The System agreed. It informed me that in fifteen days, my time in this body would come to an end. I was going to “die.” I changed my clothes and went for a walk. With the little time I had left, I called my family. I told them I was going on a long trip, somewhere remote. I told them I loved them. It was the only goodbye I could give. That evening, Alaric picked me up from the park as if nothing had happened. On the drive home, I didn’t chatter away like I usually did, filling the space with stories about my day. The car was filled with a heavy, suffocating silence. He glanced over at me several times. “Are you still angry about this morning?” I shook my head. “No.” He hesitated. “There’s something else I need to tell you. Today, Aurora—” The moment I heard her name, a curtain fell in my mind. I couldn’t hear another word about her. “I’m tired,” I cut him off. “Let’s talk when we get home.” But when we walked through the front door, I saw her. Aurora was sitting on our sofa. And she was wearing Alaric’s silk dress shirt. He came in behind me. “This is what I was trying to tell you in the car.” I stood frozen in the entryway, my nails digging so deeply into my palms I was sure I’d drawn blood. Aurora immediately put on a frightened, timid expression. “Mrs. Aethelgard, please don’t misunderstand! My apartment was burglarized, and Mr. Aethelgard said… he said he owed my father a great debt. He’s letting me stay here until I can find a safe place.” She gestured to the shirt. “All my clothes were ruined. I knew you disliked me, so I didn’t dare borrow anything of yours. I could only borrow one of Mr. Aethelgard’s.” Alaric saw the look on my face and gently took my arm, guiding me toward the dining table. “Aurora cooked dinner for us—” He stopped short. We both stared at the table. Every single dish was a blackened, charred mess. Aurora blinked innocently. “I wanted to do something nice for you both, but I’m just so clumsy…” I took a deep breath, about to say something—anything—but Alaric spoke first, already forgiving her on my behalf. “It’s fine,” he said, his voice soft. “Elora doesn’t mind.” And just like that, all the words I might have said died in my throat. Without another sound, I turned and walked to the bedroom. Chapter 4 Alaric followed me in a moment later. He closed the door behind him, his voice low. “You and Aurora just got off on the wrong foot. Once you get to know her, you’ll see she’s actually quite sweet, just a little clumsy. Now that she’s living here, it’s a good chance for you two to connect.” A suffocating pressure built in my chest. My nails bit deeper into my palms. How funny. My own husband, telling me to my face that another woman was sweet. I looked at him, at the face that had once been the center of my universe, and I finally, finally made my decision. Taking a steadying breath, I met his eyes. “Alaric. Let’s get a divorce.” His expression instantly turned to thunder. “What did you just say?” “I’m not willing to stay married to a man on the verge of an affair,” I said, my voice eerily calm. His eyes were wide with disbelief. “I haven’t done anything with Aurora! What is wrong with you?” A bitter laugh escaped me. “Any other woman so much as brushes against your sleeve and you throw the jacket away. But Aurora? She can spill coffee all over you. She can demand your help for a twisted ankle, and you not only oblige, you personally massage her foot!” I took a step closer, my voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “Alaric, can you look me in the eye and tell me you feel nothing for her?” He flinched, his gaze faltering. For a moment, he was utterly silent. Just then, Aurora’s voice called from the living room. “Mr. Aethelgard? Could you come help me with something?” His eyes flickered with an emotion I couldn’t name. He looked at me, his jaw tight, but he offered no explanation. No defense. Finally, he spoke, his voice rough. “Elora, marriage isn’t a game. You can’t be this irresponsible.” He paused, his tone softening almost imperceptibly. “I’ll sleep in the study tonight. You need to calm down and think clearly. I don’t want to hear you say that word again.” The bedroom door clicked shut behind him. I stared at the closed door and let out a long, shuddering breath that sounded suspiciously like a sob. Chapter 5 When I woke up the next morning, Alaric and Aurora were already gone. As if to twist the knife, the System forced another vision into my head, showing me their departure. I saw Aurora presenting him with a plate of greasy, fried food for breakfast. I knew his digestive system was sensitive; I never made him things like that. But he ate what she offered, accepting it with a quiet nod. At the car, Aurora hesitated, putting on a show of reluctance. “The passenger seat… that’s Mrs. Aethelgard’s spot. She’ll be angry, won’t she?” Alaric simply opened the passenger door for her. “She won’t know.” And I watched, helpless, as the seat that had always been exclusively mine was occupied by another woman, at his personal invitation. I squeezed my eyes shut. Stop, I begged the System. I don’t want to see any more. My phone rang, startling me from my trance. It was Alaric’s assistant. “Ma’am, just a reminder about the family trust’s quarterly dinner this evening. Your attendance with Mr. Aethelgard is required.” I had completely forgotten. The mandatory gathering hosted by the clan’s elders. At a little past five, Alaric returned home with Aurora in tow. “Elora, Aurora will be joining us for the dinner tonight.” I stared at him. “Why?” “It was an order from the Chairwoman of the board,” he explained, his tone leaving no room for argument. “She’s seen the preliminary background report on Aurora and wants to meet her in person.” Thirty minutes later, we arrived at a private club perched atop the city’s tallest skyscraper—a property owned by the family. The moment we entered the grand dining hall, every eye turned to Aurora. The clan’s core members, led by a few elders who radiated an ancient and intimidating power, watched her with a mixture of scrutiny, curiosity, and something else… a subtle avarice that sent a chill down my spine. And me? His legal wife? I was completely invisible. The dinner was a tense, suffocating affair. The elders directed all their questions to Aurora, probing into her family history and upbringing. I distractedly took a sip of soup. A wave of nausea immediately washed over me. I clamped a hand over my mouth and rushed to the restroom. When I came out, a female elder—a distant relative of Alaric’s—was waiting for me. Her eyes were dark and unreadable. “Elora,” she said, her voice smooth as silk. “A reaction like that… could it be that you are with child?” My heart stopped. It was only then that I realized… my period was late. A dizzying panic set in. If I was pregnant, what would I do? How could I leave? I was given no time to process. The elders were already “suggesting” I be taken to the family’s private medical center for an immediate examination. After a series of tests, a doctor handed a report to Alaric, bowing his head respectfully. “Sir, your wife’s health is excellent. However… her body is not compatible with your bloodline. She cannot bear your heir.” The female elder let out a soft scoff, just loud enough for the entire room to hear. “All that excitement for nothing. Married all these years and still no results.” Another elder spoke, his voice a low rumble. “Alaric, you understand what must be done. The continuation of our lineage is paramount.” I said nothing. I just looked down at my own stomach. I should have been relieved, but the first thing I felt was a sharp, hollowing disappointment. Just then, the System’s voice echoed in my head, cold and clinical. [Host, you are merely a human. You could never have conceived the hero’s child.] I froze. The words replayed in my mind, but it wasn’t “hero” or “child” that held my attention. It was the other word. Human. It said… you are merely a human. The word was like a rusted key forcing open a door in my mind I had never dared to approach. Fragments of memory came rushing back, a tidal wave of suppressed truths. His “family nutritional supplement”… the chilling sensation of that cold fluid flowing through the IV tube and into my veins… it was… blood. Who gives their wife their own blood to cure cramps? His perpetually cold skin. No matter how warm the room, his embrace always carried a deep, unnatural chill. I’d thought it was just poor circulation. Now I knew it wasn’t the temperature of the living. His strength, so far beyond normal. Jars I couldn’t budge would open with a flick of his wrist. The one time I’d tripped on the stairs, he’d caught me with a speed that was little more than a blur. His preference for the night, his aversion to the sun. The floor-to-ceiling windows in our penthouse were fitted with specialized glass that blocked 100% of UV rays. I’d thought it was just the eccentricity of a top-tier CEO… And… the nights. The nights he would bury his face in my neck, the so-called “possessive kisses” that always left a faint, stinging ache, followed by a dizzying, euphoric rush… He wasn’t kissing me. He was… feeding from me. Blood. Cold. Strength. Aversion to light. Fangs. And the title of the novel itself—The CEO’s Crimson Contract. Crimson. A single, horrifying, and perfectly logical answer exploded in my mind. Vampire. My blood ran cold, seeming to freeze solid in my veins. I had always believed the difference between Aurora and me was simply a matter of love. That he loved her, and he didn’t love me. Now I understood. The chasm between us was not emotional. It was biological. We weren’t just a bad match. We weren’t even the same species. I wasn’t just the side character. I was a human. A fragile, incompatible, pathetic outsider who could never give him an heir. So that was it. That was the real reason the System had said I was unworthy. This whole twisted tragedy was so much more absurd, and so much more hopeless, than I had ever imagined.

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The System finally caught on. I hadn’t broken the male lead. I hadn’t tortured him. Instead, I’d fallen in love with him, and we’d had a child. For that, I was forcibly ejected from the mission world. But now, it’s back. 【Your son is a violent, twisted mess, and he’s blocking the heroine from taking her rightful place.】 The System’s voice echoed in my mind, cold and synthetic. 【You have to fix him. Straighten him out so the main storyline can proceed.】 When I returned, my sweet little boy was gone. In his place stood a cool, defiant teenager. I watched him from a distance, laughing and joking with a classmate. Lying piece of junk, I cursed the System silently. My son is just as sweet as I remember. Then, in a flash, I saw him grab the other boy’s head and slam it into the graffiti-covered wall. Before I could even process the shock, he was standing in front of me, a lazy, arrogant smirk playing on his lips. “Hey, beautiful. Can I get your number?” My jaw dropped. Brawling and hitting on girls? I grabbed his ear and twisted. “You little monster! I’m your mother!” 1 It had been three years in the real world since I was torn away. I never thought the System would contact me again. It told me my son, Liam, had become unhinged and violent. Not only was he preventing the designated heroine from taking my place, but he had also hurt her multiple times. I believed the part about him hating her—that I could understand. But hurting her? I had my doubts. When I left, he was only five. A tiny, sweet-faced boy. The heroine had already made her appearance back then. What could a five-year-old possibly do to a grown woman? “I’ll go back,” I told the System, my voice firm. “But on one condition. I get to stay there. Permanently.” A long, crackling silence followed before it finally conceded, with a single, unbending rule: I was forbidden from interfering with the love story between the male and female leads. When I opened my eyes again, I was back. Twelve years had passed in this world. A stack of high school textbooks sat on the desk in front of me. I fumbled inside the desk, my fingers closing around a small compact mirror. The face staring back was young, fresh, and completely unfamiliar. I forced a smile. “System, can’t you just make me a teacher? It would be so much easier to get the mission done.” The System’s voice dripped with sarcasm. 【Oh, I’m sure. Easier to complete the mission, or easier to seduce the male lead again?】 【I’m warning you,】 it continued, 【Don’t even think about it. Ethan belongs to the heroine.】 I rolled my eyes. “You don’t have to remind me. I’m over him.” It wasn’t a complete lie. He’d only married me back then because of our son, out of a stubborn sense of duty. He’d never once said he loved me. Whatever fledgling feelings might have been there were surely eroded by twelve years of absence. My only focus now was my son. The System informed me he was on the basketball court, and my heart hammered with excitement as I rushed over. I couldn’t wait to see what my clingy, adorable little boy had grown into. I spotted him before I even set foot on the court, a tall, impossibly cool teenager who commanded attention without trying. His handsome face was a perfect echo of my own, especially his eyes. Recognition hit me like a tidal wave. A swell of pride filled my chest. “See, System? Look how gorgeous my son is. I make good-looking kids.” I watched him walk over to a classmate, gently adjusting the boy’s collar. “And he’s so kind to his friends. You see? He’s not violent at all.” The next second, I watched Liam grab that same classmate by the back of the head and smash his face into the graffiti-splattered wall. The System’s voice was dry. 【Right. So very ‘kind.’】 2 I stood frozen, convinced my eyes were playing tricks on me. By the time I snapped out of it, Liam was standing right in front of me, radiating pure bad-boy energy. “Hey, beautiful. Can I get your number?” My mind short-circuited. Fistfights and now flirting? Without a second thought, I grabbed his ear and gave it a sharp twist. “You little monster! I’m your mother!” His face contorted in a pained grimace as he wrenched his ear free. “You’re crazy. Get help.” “Speaking of help,” I shot back, undeterred, “you’ve got a little birthmark on your left butt cheek. I used to draw a flower around it and take pictures. I’m sure you’ve seen them.” Liam’s expression shifted from annoyance to stunned disbelief. “Who the hell are you?” I sighed, letting my shoulders slump. “I really am your mom. Ever hear of time travel? That’s me. I’ve jumped forward from the past.” I held up my hands. “I know it sounds insane, but I’m not lying.” His eyes, a complex storm of emotions, stared at me for a long moment before he turned and walked away. I reached for him. “Don’t touch me!” he snapped, batting my hand away. The rejection stung. I stood motionless, watching his retreating back. He might believe me, but my sudden disappearance all those years ago had clearly left a deep wound. But time was on my side now. I would spend the rest of my life healing that wound. I made my way to the nurse’s office and found the student Liam had assaulted. His forehead was freshly bandaged. I took the opportunity to ask him what the fight was about. It turned out he’d accidentally knocked a cheap, childish-looking watch out of Liam’s hand and stepped on it. My breath caught. It had to be the Disney watch I’d given him for his fifth birthday. It was the last gift I ever gave him. To think he’d treasured it for over a decade… a lump formed in my throat. I paid for the student’s medical expenses and apologized profusely on Liam’s behalf. Once I was sure he wasn’t seriously hurt and wouldn’t press charges, I headed back to class. 3 The System had assigned me the identity of a new transfer student in her senior year, in a different class from Liam. After talking to a few classmates, I quickly learned that my son was the school’s reigning bad boy. Skipping class and getting into fights were his trademarks, and even the teachers were too scared to rein him in. “What about his father? Doesn’t he do anything?” I asked a girl sitting near me. “Ethan? Rumor is, he spoils Liam rotten. Lets him do whatever he wants.” She lowered her voice conspiratorially. “I also heard Ethan has this woman he’s been seeing for over ten years, his old flame or something. But because Liam can’t stand her, they’ve never made it official.” Spoils him? That didn’t sound like Ethan at all. The Ethan I knew was a strict, almost unyielding father. He’d started Liam on multilingual lessons and all sorts of skill-based training courses before he was even in kindergarten. Whenever Liam came crying to me, begging for a break, Ethan would just lecture him. We fought constantly over how to raise our son. Well, I fought. He would just listen quietly and then do exactly what he’d planned anyway. A few times, I got so fed up I packed a bag for myself and Liam and stormed out. He’d just assume we were out for a little trip and come pick us up a day later without a hint of remorse. Had my disappearance changed him that much? If so, I was going to give him a piece of my mind. Veering from one extreme of parenting to the other—from iron-fisted discipline to total neglect—was just reckless. After school, I went to the mall and picked out a new, sleek watch for Liam. I spent all of the next day at school looking for him, but he never showed up. That evening, the System finally informed me that he’d gone off with a group of street racers to ride motorcycles. My head spun. He didn’t even have a driver’s license! What was he thinking? I rushed to the spot they used for their races, a winding mountain road, and arrived just as one race was ending. A chorus of cheers erupted as Liam was swarmed by a celebratory crowd. He pulled out a wad of cash and threw it into the air, sending everyone scrambling. I nearly ground my teeth to dust. Little brat. Then, a girl with a face full of filler slinked up to him, pressing the cigarette she’d been smoking to his lips. Liam, without a hint of disgust, leaned in to take a drag from her hand. 4 I finally pushed my way through the crowd and smacked the cigarette from the girl’s hand. “This isn’t for you,” I said, grabbing Liam’s wrist. “We’re going home.” He seemed dazed for a moment, letting me pull him a few steps before he came to his senses. “What are you doing here?” “Trying to keep you from getting yourself killed,” I hissed. The System had warned me about this group. A few of them had criminal records, including a heavily tattooed guy named Marco who had it out for Liam. He’d already tampered with Liam’s bike, planning to make him crash tonight. On these treacherous mountain roads, a crash like that would be fatal. Thankfully, I’d arrived before his race with Marco was scheduled to start. We’d barely taken another step when Marco himself blocked our path. “Win one race and you think you can just leave?” he sneered, his face a mask of aggression. “That’s not how it works.” He looked dangerous. I tried to de-escalate. “Sorry, we have a family emergency. He really can’t stay.” I tried to step around him, but one of his cronies moved to block me, his hand reaching out to shove me. In a flash, Liam yanked me behind him. He tossed a bank card at Marco’s feet. “Keep the winnings from the last race. Now tell your guys to get out of the way.” Marco let out a cold laugh, his eyes raking over me with a slimy gaze. “You want to leave? Fine. But first, she’s gotta make me happy.” Before the words were even fully out of his mouth, Liam’s fist connected with his face. The scene exploded into chaos. The guys who were friendly with Liam jumped into the fray, and a full-on brawl erupted. “I’ve already called the cops! Stop fighting!” I screamed, my voice lost in the pandemonium. Seeing he was losing the fight, Marco pulled a knife and lunged at Liam. Without thinking, I grabbed a heavy rock from the side of the road and slammed it against the back of Marco’s head. The wail of sirens cut through the night. Marco’s eyes widened as he stared at me, then he collapsed. I looked down at the blood on the rock and dropped it with a clatter. 5 I grabbed Liam’s arm, my voice trembling. “Is he… is he dead?” “Can I still run? Will they catch me?” “Liam, if I go to jail, will you visit me?” “It’s okay if you don’t. Just… just take care of yourself.” “And stop skipping school and fighting, okay? You have to study hard.” My rambling came to a halt, and I looked at him with wide, pleading eyes. “Can you… can you call me Mom?” Liam shot me a look that was pure, unadulterated exasperation. Then he turned and kicked the unconscious man on the ground. Marco, who had been utterly still a second ago, yelped and clutched his leg in pain. I blinked. This brat. He’d completely lost his childhood charm. The little boy I knew would have been crying and asking for a hug by now. This new version was just… a jerk. At the police station, a dozen or so of them were lined up against the wall, waiting for their parents to come bail them out. A few of the guys standing across from me started chatting. “You look like a good girl, but you’ve got guts,” one of them said with a grin. “You guys are pretty brave too,” I replied, trying to sound friendly. “Thanks for having my Liam’s back. I’ll treat you all to dinner sometime.” Their expressions immediately turned to ones of nosy curiosity. “So what’s the deal between you and Liam?” “I’m his…” “Sister,” Liam cut in before I could finish. My eyes lit up. Did that “sister” mean he was starting to accept me? I smiled and nudged his arm. “Liam, give me your hand.” He frowned. “What for?” “I have some candy for you. Want some?” He turned his head away, his voice cold. “I’m not a kid anymore. I don’t eat candy.” “Okay, fine. I’ll ask someone else then…” 6 I made a show of turning toward the other boys, and Liam immediately thrust his hand out in front of me. I couldn’t help but chuckle. This stubborn, awkward teenager was so much like his father. I took his hand, turned it palm-down, and gently fastened the new watch I’d bought around his wrist. “Do you like it?” He had turned back to face me at some point, his gaze fixed on the watch. For a split second, his eyes reddened. He pressed his lips together, and after a long moment, he held out his hand again. “Where’s my candy?” He really wants it? I thought, surprised. But he just said he didn’t eat candy. Feeling a pang of guilt, I gently closed his fingers into a fist. “I’ll buy you some as soon as we get out of here.” Just then, an officer called out our names. “You two can go. Your guardian is here to pick you up.” A knot of anxiety tightened in my stomach. I leaned closer to Liam and whispered, “You didn’t tell your dad who I am, did you?” “No. He just thinks you’re a classmate.” I let out a breath of relief. “Good. Keep it that way. Don’t tell him.” Liam gave me a questioning look, the word why practically written across his face. I avoided his gaze and blurted out the first excuse that came to mind. “I’m still young. I’m not into older men.” He nodded thoughtfully, seeming to accept it. I followed him out of the station, my heart pounding a nervous rhythm against my ribs. Standing by the curb was Ethan, dressed in a tailored black suit. Even from behind, his tall, powerful frame was as captivating as a magazine cover. My pulse quickened. Get a grip, I scolded myself. You can’t fall apart over a silhouette. Liam stopped and called out in a lazy tone, “Dad.” Ethan turned, and I immediately dropped my gaze to the pavement.

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In my fifth year of pursuing Daniel Lutz, I gave birth to his child through IVF. But his affection level, which had reached 99, not only refused to budge to 100 but began to fluctuate wildly. Dragging my weary, post-partum body to find him, I was stopped by a burst of cruel laughter from inside his study. “She has no idea the egg wasn’t even hers, does she?” “The second the kid was born, Daniel dropped her affection score straight to zero.” “So what if she finds out? She should be grateful she has a face so much like Lily’s.” Then, Daniel’s voice, laced with a bored sigh. “Playing with her for this long… I’m getting tired of it.” It was only then that the horrible truth crashed down on me. What I thought was my hard-won happy ending was nothing but a punchline. I turned away, my voice a hollow whisper to the System in my mind. “Arrange my death. I want a new world.” 1 Are you sure, Host? The System’s voice echoed in my mind. Your mother is very ill. If you start over in a new world, she might not live to see you succeed. A wave of bitter sorrow washed over me. Five years ago, to save my mother from cancer, I accepted this mission. At first, it was deceptively easy. I fell into the trap of Daniel’s charm, losing myself in his manufactured tenderness. But reality soon delivered a brutal slap. All because I moved a photo album of his long-dead first love, Lily, and failed to wear a red dress he’d laid out for me—Lily’s favorite color. For that, he abandoned me in the slums of a foreign country and took my passport. I was nearly stripped naked by a group of men before I escaped onto a street and was hit by a car. It was only from a hospital bed that I was able to call him. His voice was glacial. “If you didn’t look so much like Lily, do you think I would’ve ever given you a second glance? Consider this a small punishment. When you’ve learned your lesson, I’ll come get you.” That was just the beginning. He made me kneel up thousands of stone steps to a remote temple to pray for Lily’s soul. He had his friends strip me and abandon me at a ski resort on a freezing mountaintop. He kicked me, a non-swimmer, into the ocean, forcing me to retrieve a bracelet he’d dropped. He called it “testing my sincerity.” Then he’d turn around and laugh with his friends, placing bets on how many “pranks” it would take to make me finally give up and leave. A few months ago, everything changed. He softened, telling me he wanted a child with me. I watched his affection score soar and naively believed my suffering was finally over. Now, the laughter from his study was deafening. “Daniel, including the baby, that makes an even 100 pranks, right?” “I bet she still won’t leave. The kid might not be hers, but it’s yours, man. She’s put up with everything else. What’s one more lie?” “Totally. Every time you throw her a few affection points after a prank, she comes crawling back like a pathetic puppy wagging its tail.” Each word was a scalpel, carving open my heart. So, he knew. Daniel knew I was a Host, and he could manipulate my system’s affection meter at will. “These disgusting mission-runners… just watch. I’m going to break her.” “This is gonna be good.” Daniel’s voice, dripping with amused contempt, was the final blow that extinguished the last flicker of hope within me. I closed my eyes, forcing the tears back. A bitter smile touched my lips. “I’m sure,” I told the System. “Arrange my death. The sooner, the better. I’ll find a new target in a new world.” After the System confirmed, I returned to my hospital room and stared silently at the sleeping infant in the bassinet. To bring him into this world, I’d endured countless hospital visits, so many hormone injections that my stomach was a canvas of bruises. The memory of the thick needle piercing my body for the egg retrieval still made me shudder. And it was all for nothing. I was just an incubator for his dead girlfriend’s frozen eggs. “Elara, what are you doing out of bed?” Daniel and his friends strolled into the room. “We’re here to pack your things. The doctor said you can be discharged. Oh, right, I brought you some seafood chowder. You should eat.” His affection level flickered, then settled back at 99. But when I looked into his eyes, I saw no love. Only the same mocking cruelty I saw in his friends. They were waiting. Waiting for me to pretend I wasn’t deathly allergic to seafood and obediently eat it, just like I always did. I smiled and thanked him. But this time, I ignored the soup. I packed my own bag and walked out of the room first. “You can carry the baby,” I said over my shoulder. His smile froze, his eyes darkening instantly. One of his friends nudged him with a smirk, and he forced the smile back onto his face. “Of course. I’ll carry him.” 2 When we got back to the villa, a woman was standing in the center of the living room. She wore a red dress. Her hair was long, black, and straight, with perfect bangs. Her smile was a gentle curve. I froze. She was the spitting image of Lily. Even the dimple at the corner of her mouth was identical. “Elara, let me introduce you,” Daniel said smoothly. “This is Janice. I’m sponsoring her. She’s going to stay with us for a while as our… nanny.” His friends snickered, drawing out the word “nanny” with lewd insinuation. Daniel chuckled, his gaze fixed on the girl, his desire and satisfaction utterly undisguised. This was a familiar scene. Though he called me his girlfriend, Daniel never tired of collecting Lily’s substitutes, and he especially loved parading them in front of me. Last time, I was sick with a fever, and his friends brought him a substitute dressed as a nurse. As I burned up in my room, I could hear them together in the room next door. The time before that, he took me to a gala and picked the most Lily-like woman from a line-up of aspiring starlets. Afterward, he would always placate me. “You’re still the best one. The most like her.” Then he’d toss me a few affection points like a scrap of meat to a dog. And I, desperate and broken, would swallow my pain and force a smile as I saw his latest conquest out the door. He’d been more restrained while I was pregnant, but I knew he still had a mistress tucked away somewhere. And now, he couldn’t even wait a day to flaunt this new one in my face. “You’re good at making desserts, right? Janice loves them,” Daniel said, smiling at the girl beside him. “She’s allergic to mango, prefers chocolate. Use that expensive French chocolate, the one she likes. Oh, and Janice rescued a stray cat. She can bring it here to live with us.” The girl’s eyes filled with tears of gratitude. “Daniel, I only mentioned that once. I can’t believe you remembered.” “Of course. When something is important to me, I pay attention.” The irony was so thick I could have choked on it. He could remember all that, yet he pretended not to see the hives that broke out all over my face every time I forced down seafood for him. He couldn’t remember that I had a deep-seated fear of cats after being badly scratched as a child. But then, I wasn’t important. I was just his favorite toy. That night, I went to our bedroom to change and found the two of them already in our bed. Janice was curled in Daniel’s arms, her face flushed an unnatural red. Daniel’s eyes were dark with a storm of passion. Seeing me standing there, he dropped all pretense. A lazy smirk played on his lips. “Janice didn’t have anything suitable to wear. The things in your closet fit her perfectly. You can sleep in the guest room tonight.” Janice pulled back a corner of the duvet, revealing the pale pink silk of my nightgown. Her smile was a triumphant, mocking slash. “I’m sure my sister won’t mind,” she purred. “This lingerie was never meant for her anyway,” one of Daniel’s friends chimed in from the doorway, leaning casually. “It belongs to whoever fits it best.” I understood his meaning. Every piece of clothing in that closet had been chosen by Daniel to match Lily’s taste. Now that someone who looked more like her had arrived, I was being replaced. “Go get some sleep, Elara,” Daniel said, his tone laced with that familiar, cruel amusement. He was so confident. “Don’t worry. In my heart, you’ll always be number one. You know how much I love you.” He was certain that with his affection score at 99, I wouldn’t dare say a word. I would just be his good little dog, grateful for any scrap of affection he threw my way. I did exactly as he expected. I turned and walked away without a word. The moment the door clicked shut, a series of messages lit up my phone screen. They were from Daniel’s group chat. “Didn’t you guys say bringing in a new girl right when she thought she was safe would be the ultimate mind-fuck?” “We practically did it right in front of her, and she still didn’t make a peep.” “Haha, Daniel, aren’t you planning something even bigger? You’ll never get rid of that leech.” “Shit, Daniel, wrong chat! Recall! Recall!” I watched as the messages vanished one by one. My breath hitched, and a sharp pain lanced through my numb heart. I used to believe that 99 was real. I was so happy, so terrified of losing it. I tiptoed around him, treasuring every rare crumb of kindness he offered. But it was all a lie. The rising affection score was just another tool to torture me. They were watching me like a play, entertained by my struggle and my pain. 3 A few minutes later, Daniel called. He wanted me to bring Janice a glass of milk. “You didn’t happen to look at your phone just now, did you?” he asked, testing me. “No,” I said, feigning ignorance. “I was about to check on the baby.” He sounded relieved. When I brought the milk, he even gave me a rare compliment. The next morning, the baby’s cries woke me. I rushed to the nursery to find him on the floor, having crawled out of his crib and fallen. He was screaming, his face red and tear-streaked. The baby bottle next to him was empty, and he was instinctively trying to suckle from it, clearly ravenous. Daniel stood by, looking completely helpless. Even though he wasn’t my biological son, the sight sent a pang of distress through me. I quickly prepared a bottle and picked him up to feed him. “What’s all that noise?” I looked up. Janice was leaning lazily over the second-floor railing, her silk nightgown hanging loosely, revealing a constellation of dark marks on her neck. “Oh, whoops. I forgot about the baby,” she said with a dramatic yawn. “It’s all Daniel’s fault. He kept me up all night.” She shot me a glance, her eyes glittering with smug satisfaction. “I really need to have a talk with him. I was hired as a nanny, but he can’t keep exhausting me like this.” She blushed, feigning shyness. She dangled a torn piece of silk over the railing and let it flutter to the floor. “Sorry, sister. Daniel got a little carried away and ripped your nightgown.” She giggled, waiting for my reaction. But I just held the baby, my face a blank mask. I didn’t even look at her. I had grown accustomed to silent endurance. The last time I’d shown any displeasure—spilling tea on one of his substitutes—Daniel had “punished” me. Believing his affection score was my lifeline, I had let him pour boiling water on my thigh. The skin there was now a permanent, puckered scar. After settling the baby, I went out to hire a proper, professional nanny. When I returned that afternoon with the new nanny, I found the baby asleep in his crib. But his face was an unnatural, flushed red, his features contorted not in peaceful slumber, but in pain. The experienced nanny’s face paled. She rushed forward, checked the baby, and gasped. “He’s been given a sleeping pill. A significant dose,” she whispered in horror. “And I think he’s having an allergic reaction. It looks like anaphylactic shock.” My heart seized. I scooped the baby into my arms. “We have to get him to a hospital. Now.” As I reached the front door, Janice blocked my path. “Where are you going, sister? And why are you taking the baby?” “You fed him sleeping pills? Are you trying to kill him?” The words tore from my throat, raw with fury. Janice flinched, her eyes darting to the baby’s discolored face. A flicker of panic crossed her features. “He wouldn’t stop crying! I just gave him a tiny piece. It just helps him sleep, what’s the big deal…? No, you can’t go! He’s fine! You’re just trying to tattle on me to Daniel!” I let out a cold laugh. I thrust the baby into the nanny’s arms, grabbed a fistful of Janice’s hair, and yanked. “Mrs. Davis, take a cab to the hospital. Go!” Janice shrieked in pain, flailing her arms. She knocked a glass off the coffee table. It shattered, and a shard flew up, slicing her cheek. “Stop!” Daniel’s voice was like cracking ice. He strode into the room, his eyes locking on the cut on Janice’s face. His chest heaved, a volcano of repressed rage about to erupt. He raised his hand to strike me, but hesitated, his eyes catching on my face—Lily’s face. Instead, he drew back his foot and kicked me, hard, in the abdomen. The force sent me flying. A tidal wave of agony engulfed me. Daniel glared down at me, his voice dripping with venom. “You’re just jealous of her face, aren’t you? I’ve been too nice to you lately. It’s made you arrogant.” He then turned, gently taking Janice’s arm, and led her away. 4 Mrs. Davis and I rushed the baby to the hospital. He was treated in time and was going to be fine. I, however, had to be admitted for a few days. The kick had torn open my C-section incision. Other than his affection score dipping and then climbing back to 99, Daniel had no reaction. When I returned to the villa, the front door was ajar. I could hear Daniel and his friends laughing inside. “She actually hit Janice! Can you believe it? I guess getting her score to 99 really did make her arrogant. At least it’s something new. The pathetic doormat act was getting boring.” “It’s a shame, though. Janice was the best look-alike yet, and now her face is ruined.” “Hey Daniel, you’re not even going to check on her? The kid’s in the hospital too, you know.” Daniel just smirked. “No need. With the affection score as leverage, she’ll come crawling back like the dog she is.” I felt a bitter mix of amusement and despair. He had no idea. I didn’t care anymore. I walked in, placed the baby’s medical report on the table in front of him without a word, and went upstairs. “Ooh, someone’s got an attitude. Aren’t you going to go smooth things over, Daniel?” “She’s the mother of your child now. She’s got more leverage. Gotta act like the lady of the house, right?” I ignored their jeers and shut my bedroom door, curling into a ball on the floor behind it. The tears I had held back for so long finally broke free, falling in heavy drops onto the hardwood. I cried out all the years of humiliation, grief, and pain. I cried until my eyes were dry and sore. Suddenly, the System’s voice returned. Host, your request has been approved. We can take you away immediately. Your next world has already been selected. I sat there, stunned, for a long moment. Then, fresh tears began to fall. But these were different. These were tears of relief, of liberation. “Good,” I whispered, and fell into a deep, exhausted sleep. It should have been the most peaceful night I’d had in years. But in the middle of the night, I woke up choking on thick smoke. My eyes flew open to a terrifying sight. Flames were climbing the walls, licking greedily at the ceiling. Primal survival instinct surged through me. I covered my mouth and nose and ran. The moment I burst through the front door, I saw Daniel on the ground, gasping for air. He saw me, his face a mixture of shock and relief, which quickly turned to panic. “The baby! I think the baby is still inside!” he yelled. “Elara, get out of here! The fire’s too big, we can’t go back in!” My heart plunged. It felt like a giant hand was squeezing my throat, suffocating me. “It’s okay. I’ll go back. I know where he is,” I said, my voice steady. And without a second thought, I turned and ran back into the inferno. I gritted my teeth against the searing pain as flames kissed my skin and threw my body against the nursery door until it splintered open. The crib was empty. I stared, disbelieving. I searched the entire room, then the rest of the house, a frantic, desperate scavenger hunt. A cold dread washed over me. “Jasper! Where are you?” My voice was a raw, trembling croak, lost in the roar of the fire. I searched everywhere, but he was gone. As despair threatened to consume me, an image flashed in my mind, courtesy of the System. It was a view of the lawn below. Daniel and his friends were there, huddled together. “Move, let me see!” one of them said, snatching a pair of binoculars. “She’s still looking! She has no idea the baby’s not in there.” He laughed. “Man, Daniel, this is your cruelest prank yet. Cost you a whole villa, though.” Daniel just shrugged, a smirk on his face. “Whatever. I bet she still won’t leave me. She hasn’t completed her mission.” “I’ll take that bet. This is a new level of messed up. It’s psychological warfare.” The System broadcasted their casual cruelty directly into my mind. I stood there, surrounded by fire, an icy cold spreading through me that had nothing to do with fear. The flames illuminated my deathly pale face. My phone rang. It was Daniel. His voice was laced with amusement. “Sorry, Elara. The baby isn’t in there. And by the way, he isn’t yours. I used Lily’s eggs.” “You didn’t really think I fell in love with you, did you? I’ve been planning this little show for over a year.” “Surprise.” As his words landed, the affection score on my system interface plummeted from 99 to 0. This was his grand finale. To strip me of every last shred of hope. But I was about to disappoint him. I didn’t cry. I didn’t scream. Instead, I let out a soft laugh. “Yes,” I said. “Thank you. Thank you for finally setting me free.” I hung up the phone. “I’m ready,” I told the System. “Let’s go.”

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I’m dying. A ghost in life, a stray spirit in death. But I’ve always been considerate. The thought of my body being left undiscovered in my apartment for too long is… unsettling. The smell, the decay, the rot, the maggots. I don’t mind messing up my own place, but to haunt the building’s property values and ruin my neighbors’ appetites? That’s a sin I’m not willing to commit. So I called my ex-boyfriend, the one I hadn’t spoken to in seven years. “When I die, could you do me a favor and collect my body?” Silence stretched for a long, heavy moment on the other end. Then, his voice, cold as ice. “Sure. My dogs are hungry.” 1 I lowered the phone, a hollow ache of disappointment settling in my chest. In this age of instant gratification, you can get food delivered, errands run, even a designated driver at 3 a.m., but you can’t find a service for posthumous body collection. I’m dying. The kind of dying there’s no coming back from. After the initial shock, the terror, the rage, and the complete breakdown, I’ve found a strange sort of peace with it. I have no family, no one to lean on. Death is just… a change of address for my loneliness. But the logistics are a nightmare. I’m terrified of dying at home and no one finding me for weeks. My body, left to the slow, merciless work of decomposition. The putrid smell, the liquefying flesh, the swarming maggots… an unholy stench creeping through the vents. My corpse would probably only be discovered when the entire floor of the apartment building was under a full-scale biohazard assault. That would be too late. Call it vanity, but I don’t want my last public appearance to be a grotesque spectacle for a crowd of gawking strangers. And call it civic duty, but I refuse to turn my home into a house of horrors, a stain on the neighborhood that tanks property values and makes people lose their lunch. The housing market is already a disaster; the last thing the mortgage-slaves in this building need is more bad news from me. I could, of course, check into a hospital and pass away peacefully under the sterile, fluorescent lights. But I can’t stand the smell of antiseptic. So, I needed someone. Someone to make sure that, after my last breath, I was turned to ash as quickly as possible. Clean, efficient, and sanitary. After turning it over and over in my mind, only one name surfaced from the wreckage of my past: my ex-boyfriend. I fished his number out of my blocked list and dialed, praying he hadn’t changed it. It connected. I could hear the soft, rhythmic sound of his breathing, but he said nothing. “Leo… Leo?” “It’s… It’s Hazel…” I wasn’t sure if he still had my number, so I had to introduce myself. Click. He hung up. Yep, that was definitely Leo. Anyone else would have at least muttered a “wrong number.” Swallowing my pride, I dialed again. This time, it rang a dozen times before he picked up. Fearing he’d hang up again, I rushed out the words in a single, desperate breath, like a speed-reader rattling off a list. “Don’t hang up! I know you hate me, but I’m dying! For real! Can you just pick up my body? Think about it, watching me die right in front of you… it’d be satisfying, wouldn’t it?” The words tumbled out, and this time, he didn’t hang up. After seven long years, a voice that was both achingly familiar and chillingly strange came through the line. “You’re only dying now?” he scoffed. “You’ve been dead to me for years.” The words were meant to sting, but I was a woman who no longer feared death. What power could mockery possibly hold? “Your wishing me dead was just that—a wish. This time, it’s real. I’ve got three months, tops. You should treasure this opportunity to see me off yourself. You’ll never get another chance like this, no matter how much money you throw around.” I pleaded my case like a seasoned salesman pushing a once-in-a-lifetime deal. “Hahahaha!” A sudden, harsh laugh erupted from him. “Hazel, you really will stop at nothing to get my attention, won’t you?” His voice was dripping with schadenfreude. “You might have dropped off the face of the earth for me, but I’ve kept tabs on you. I know things went south. Your family went bankrupt, your father took a nosedive off a skyscraper, your mother ran off with her boy toy, and you got divorced. Thrown out by Julian Shaw. All alone now, aren’t you? No one in your corner. It must be pathetic.” He paused, letting the venom sink in. “I’m starting to think you’re a black widow. Everyone who gets close to you ends up miserable. But the ones who leave you? They thrive. Look at me. Successful, respected, on top of the world.” Even through the phone, I could picture the sneer twisting his features, the bitter triumph in his eyes. “So now you’ve hit rock bottom and you come crawling back to me? Playing the dying swan to get my sympathy? You think I still have a soft spot for a two-faced, manipulative woman like you? Think again. Your sob story doesn’t work on me. Because if you actually dropped dead in front of me, the only thing I’d do is chop you up and feed you to my dogs.” I gave it a moment of serious thought. Being dog food was grim, but… it was still better than rotting into a puddle of maggot-infested goo, right? Besides, I’ve always liked dogs. “Could you make it a Border Collie? I’m not really a fan of Huskies,” I suggested earnestly. “You…” He was speechless. He must have thought I was mocking him, because he hung up again. I didn’t call a third time. There’s a limit to even my reserves of humiliation. I started searching for crematoriums on my phone, wondering if they took adPitt bookings. But then, he was at my door. Leo. He actually knew where I lived now. “The world turns, and the pauper can become a prince.” That was something Leo had told me back in college. He was always quoting those epic fantasy novels, telling me I was a “Level 10 beauty.” Reality had turned out to be stranger than any fantasy. It didn’t take thirty years, just seven. In seven years, Leo’s life and mine had completely inverted. Seven years ago, he was a poor college kid, scraping by on student loans. I was the wealthy heiress, born with a silver spoon. He had loved me with a desperate, all-consuming passion, loyal and humble as a knight serving his queen. And I had crushed him. Kicked him, played him, and thrown him away. “Leo, we’re not right for each other. We’re from different worlds.” “This was just a game to me, and honestly, I’m bored now.” “You didn’t actually think I’d marry you, did you?” “Hahaha! I couldn’t stand the embarrassment!” “Get out. Poverty doesn’t get to have an opinion on love.” I watched him break in front of me, saw the tears stream down his face as the fire in his eyes slowly flickered and died. I knew, with absolute certainty, that I had personally murdered the innocence and love within him. Seven years later, he was a self-made tech mogul. At an age when most rich kids were still living off their parents, he had built his own empire and landed on the Forbes list. He was mature, confident, powerful. And I was a ghost. The shine of the heiress was long gone, and now I lived in a cramped, 500-square-foot apartment in an old, rundown building. Jobless, friendless, family-less. And, most importantly, dying. I was asking him to collect my corpse. The story of us felt like a sick joke written by the devil himself. “You don’t look so good,” he said, leaning against the doorframe, one hand casually tucked in his pocket. “Tired.” He’d always been handsome, but now money had chiseled his features into something sharper, more magnetic. The Armani suit and the Vacheron Constantin on his wrist radiated a quiet, lethal success. A world away from the faded, washed-out clothes he’d worn through his sophomore year, the ones I’d tried to replace but he always insisted were too expensive. “Is it because the family money dried up? Having a tough time adjusting to being poor?” He was smiling that cruel, triumphant smile again, his eyes scanning my tiny, shabby apartment. “It’s small, but clean. I have to admit, I was kind of hoping you’d be living on the street.” I looked around the small space with a pang of affection. One room, a small living area. It was the third home I’d had in my twenty-five years. The smallest, the oldest, the most pathetic. Nothing like the mansion I grew up in, and certainly nothing like Julian’s sprawling estate. But it was the only place I’d ever felt safe. Truly warm. It was mine, bought with the last of my savings, money I had earned myself. I was content to die here. Which was exactly why I didn’t want my death to defile it. “Thank you for coming,” I said, opening a drawer and pulling out the deed to the apartment and a handwritten agreement. “I don’t have much left. This place is all I own.” “After I’m gone, please sell it for me. The money should be enough to cover a burial plot and the funeral expenses. Whatever’s left over… maybe a hundred grand or so… just donate it to a charity. I don’t have any family to leave it to, and I know it’s pocket change to you.” I laid out my final wishes calmly, but Leo’s face darkened with rage. He lunged forward, grabbing my shoulders and slamming me back against the wall. His face was inches from mine, his eyes blazing, his breath hot on my skin. “I don’t know whether to applaud your acting or condemn your shamelessness,” he snarled, his voice a low, vicious growl. “A venomous woman like you doesn’t just die. And even if you did, you, donating to charity? You, who got off on trampling on the dignity of the poor?” A muscle twitched in his jaw, his expression a mask of vengeful glee. “And then you became one of them. That’s karma, Hazel. That’s justice.” He leaned in closer. “I was actually afraid you would die. That would be too easy, an escape. You deserve to live a long, miserable life. To suffer for what you did.” His grip was bruising. I tried to explain it wasn’t an act, that I was really sick, even holding up my medical file. He dismissed it as a prop I’d faked from some online template. Finally, my patience wore thin. It was my life, my death. Why did I have to prove it to him? I suddenly remembered old Mr. Hemlock, the kind, simple-minded junk collector who came by the complex. Maybe I could ask him. I could leave him everything in the apartment, and in return, he could just… recycle me along with the rest of it. “You’re hurting me,” I gasped, struggling to push him away. “If you don’t want to do it, fine. Just forget I asked. You can go.” But he wouldn’t leave. He stared at me like a predator toying with its prey, a cold light glinting in his eyes. “You love playing games, don’t you? Fine. I’ll play.” A cruel smile spread across his lips. “I’ll collect your body. I guarantee it.” He leaned in, his voice a menacing whisper. “You said three months, right?” His gaze was sharp, pinning me in place. “What happens if, at the end of three months, you’re not dead?” “I can’t wait to see you then. The pathetic little liar with nowhere left to run.” “If you have a single shred of shame left, you’ll kill yourself to make it true.” He laughed then, a low, triumphant sound, as if he’d already won. But I smiled back. It was him against me. And I had Death on my team. Poor Leo. He never stood a chance. My plan was simple: Leo would just need to show up and collect my body after I died. We agreed to check in every three days to confirm I was still alive. If he didn’t hear from me, it meant the time had come. He already had a key; he’d come over and handle the arrangements. With the summer heat, time was of the essence. But Leo found this arrangement far too boring. The very next day, he was back at my apartment. “Get dressed. We’re going out.” “Where?” “Cemetery shopping,” he said with a strange, unnerving grin. “Told you I’d feed you to the dogs, but that was just talk. Dogs are man’s best friend; they shouldn’t eat garbage.” “So, I figured I should at least get your opinion on where we’re going to plant you.” I knew what he was doing. He was convinced this was all an elaborate performance, a desperate plea for his sympathy. He was using the morbid task of buying a burial plot to mock me, to call my bluff. Fine by me. I didn’t find it morbid at all. When you’re dead, you’re dead. A patch of dirt is a patch of dirt. But I wasn’t about to spoil his fun, so I got into his Porsche and we toured every major cemetery on the outskirts of the city. At each one, Leo would announce loudly to the salesperson, “We’re here to buy a plot. For her.” I would simply smile politely and say, “So sorry for the trouble.” It made the salespeople incredibly awkward. One moment they’d be waxing poetic about the pristine landscaping and excellent feng shui, the next they’d be stammering, thrown off by the presence of the future occupant. “It’s alright, please continue,” I’d have to reassure them. “It sounds lovely.” After we’d chosen a plot, on the drive back down the hill, Leo couldn’t hide his frustration at my composure. “Doesn’t this bother you at all?” “You’ve been very thorough,” I said, gazing at the lush, green surroundings of my future resting place. “I bet I won’t have any trouble sleeping there.” He was trying to get under my skin, but my nonchalance was clearly getting under his. He slammed his foot on the brake. “Fine! You don’t care about that?” he snapped. “We’re not done! We’ve got the plot, but what about a casket? An urn? Have you even taken a funeral portrait?” “Don’t worry,” he sneered. “I’ll arrange everything.” “Oh, and we need to book the entertainment. A funeral band. Got to give you a proper send-off.” Leo was a man of his word. He dragged me to arrange every last detail. He bought seven different burial outfits, one for every season. The urn was carved from pure jade, intricately detailed with dragons and phoenixes. The funeral portrait session was a minor disaster. The photographer initially thought we were there for an engagement shoot. When he heard it was for a funeral, his face soured. “Sorry, I don’t do that kind of work. You’ll have to leave—” Leo held up three fingers. “Thirty grand. Yes or no?” “Right this way!” the photographer chirped, suddenly accommodating. “What kind of mood are we going for? Stoic acceptance? Lingering regret? We can do it all!” “I want her to look like she got what she deserved,” Leo said coldly.

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After I lost my memory, I forgot I was the villain. I sent a group text to my close contacts: [Sorry, I have amnesia. Who is this?] My phone immediately buzzed with four new messages. From the aloof childhood friend I used to bully: [Is this another one of your new ways to torture me? Your food is downstairs. Remember to eat it.] From the loyal stepbrother I used to torment: [Still mad at me? I transferred you some spending money. I’ll be home tonight to keep you company.] From the cool female lead I used to mess with: [Putting on an act again? If you have amnesia, go back to sleep. I signed you in for class.] Me: “?” Was I secretly the beloved main character all along? 1 The hospital room was a blur of doctors and nurses, the air thick with the sterile scent of antiseptic. I pushed myself up, my head swimming. Nearby, a doctor was speaking with a middle-aged man. “How is she doing now?” “Miss Shen’s amnesia isn’t too severe at the moment. She just seems to have forgotten specific people…” I blinked, trying to process their words. Amnesia? How could I have amnesia? “I don’t think I have amnesia!” I interjected. “I remember my name is Ava Shen. My father is Robert Shen, and my mother is Olivia Song.” The middle-aged man turned to me, his expression patient. “Well, do you remember my name, Miss Ava?” I nodded eagerly. “Of course. You’re our butler, Mr. Peterson.” He was silent for a long moment, his face a mixture of emotions. “Miss… I’m your family’s driver. And my name is Mr. Miller, not Peterson.” Me: “?” He sighed and turned back to the doctor. “Please, do whatever you can for her. I need to go contact her parents.” From their brief conversation, I gathered that I had slipped on the library stairs, fallen unconscious, and been brought to the hospital by a classmate. After they left, it finally sank in. I started scrolling through my phone. If it weren’t for my parents’ names in my contacts, I’d think I had picked up a stranger’s phone. Just then, two messages popped up from someone saved as “Cold-Hearted Monster.” [Come downstairs in thirty minutes to get your takeout.] [I’m not paying extra for delivery to your door.] I racked my brain, but I had no idea who this person was. I typed back: [Are you buying me lunch?] The reply was swift, each word dripping with sarcasm. [It is my duty to procure lunch for the great Miss Shen.] [But next time you want something from off-campus, could you perhaps provide some advance notice?] [I just wasted thirty minutes in line. Wouldn’t want to delay your precious mealtime.] Well, he’s certainly polite, I thought. But food wasn’t my main concern right now. [No need. I’m not eating today,] I replied. The other end went silent. I couldn’t see his face, but I could almost feel the waves of irritation radiating through the screen. [Is this because you didn’t like the breakfast I brought you this morning?] [So you’re throwing another tantrum?] I quickly tried to explain. [No, it’s not that. I have amnesia. qwq] He scoffed. [Is this the latest method Miss Shen has devised to torture me?] Me: “?” Was I really that awful? Worried he wouldn’t believe me, I sent him a photo. [I’m not lying. See? I’m still in a hospital bed.] A long time passed with no reply. He had probably fainted from anger or just couldn’t be bothered with me anymore. I scrolled through our chat history. This “Cold-Hearted Monster” seemed to be my personal assistant, fetching my meals, picking up my packages, and buying my bubble tea. He even tutored me and let me copy his answers on exams. But my attitude toward him was appalling. My messages were demanding and imperious. A wave of guilt washed over me. How could I talk to a classmate like that? “Ava—” The door to my room burst open, and a boy rushed in. He was wearing a simple white shirt, but his features were sharp and elegant. Even the fingers gripping the takeout container were long and pale. I found myself staring. Some people lose their memories, but their appreciation for beauty remains unchanged. My standards for my ideal type certainly hadn’t wavered. I looked up at him and asked cautiously, “And you are?” His body went rigid. He pressed his lips together, his gaze dropping to the floor. “You don’t remember who I am?” I frowned, trying hard to recall. “Are you the Cold-Hearted Monster?” His expression was complicated. “…My name is Eddie.” Eddie reached out as if to check the wound on my forehead. “You fell down the stairs? Is it serious?” Seeing me flinch, he awkwardly dropped his hand, his tone turning cold again. “I’m not worried about you. I’m just afraid you’ll hit your head and find a way to blame it on me.” His words painted a vivid picture of a selfish, spoiled brat. My guilt deepened. When I didn’t say anything, he asked again, his voice softer, “You really don’t remember me?” “I don’t,” I answered honestly. “But from our chat history, it looks like you’re the one who runs all my errands.” “…Not exactly,” Eddie said. I looked at him, puzzled. He took a deep breath. “We’re childhood friends.” When I remained silent, he added coolly, “And, well, our parents arranged for us to be married.” I was shocked. “What? But our chats don’t look like that at all…” I thought he was just a classmate I barely knew. Eddie’s anger turned into a bitter laugh. “If we weren’t engaged, who do you think would be willing to run your errands every single day? Who would buy your meals and save you a seat in class?” “But you just said it was your duty,” I argued, confused. Eddie’s eyelids flickered. “Yes. My duty as your fiancé. Is it not?” Just then, Mr. Miller, the driver, walked in. He looked surprised to see Eddie. “Eddie? What are you doing here?” Eddie stood up politely. “I came to see how she’s doing.” Mr. Miller was about to sit down when Eddie’s next words made him jump back up. “By the way, Mr. Miller, Ava doesn’t believe we grew up together. Can you tell her? That we’re already engaged.” Mr. Miller’s eyes widened. “Huh?” He glanced from Eddie’s dead-serious face to my bewildered one. After a moment of thought, he gave a slow, complicated nod. “Yes… that’s true.” 2 Mr. Miller was the first person I saw when I woke up. He had been running around handling my paperwork and contacting my parents, so I had already started to trust him. And Eddie didn’t look like he was joking. A secret part of me was thrilled. My ideal type had just turned into my fiancé. I felt like I’d hit the jackpot. I guess even with amnesia, you still fall for the people you were meant to like. When Mr. Miller stepped out to take a call, Eddie placed the food container on the bedside table and handed me a bowl and chopsticks. “Eat up.” I glanced at the food and smiled. “What a coincidence. These are all my favorite dishes.” Eddie ladled some soup into my bowl, his voice flat. “It’s not a coincidence. This is the menu you specifically requested this morning.” “Oh…” I said, my guilt returning. “Was it a lot of trouble for you?” He wiped his hands with a napkin, his tone detached. “It’s not like today was the only day you’ve been trouble. I’m used to it.” A pang of sympathy hit me. I tugged on his sleeve. “Why don’t you eat with me, then?” Eddie’s body tensed. He touched his nose and cleared his throat. “I only bought one serving.” “Don’t we usually eat together?” I asked, confused again. He turned to look out the window. “…We do. I just already ate today.” I didn’t doubt him and started my meal. While he was drinking some water, I started chattering away. “You know, Eddie, the moment I saw you, I felt like I was starting to remember things.” He choked on his water, coughing violently. For a moment, he completely lost his composure. “You’re remembering?” His voice sounded strained, a far cry from the cool demeanor he’d had just moments before. I nodded. “Yeah. The second I saw you, I just knew we were perfect for each other. It must be because we’re engaged. My fated husband.” I beamed at him. “And even though I have amnesia, my standards for my ideal type haven’t changed a bit. The husband I imagined looks just like you.” Eddie: “…” A faint blush spread across his handsome face, and the tips of his ears turned a deep crimson. He shot up from his chair so quickly he almost knocked over the table. Me: “?” Eddie struggled to regain his composure, but his flushed cheeks betrayed him. He held up his phone. “Uh… I just got a notification from my study group. I have to go back. I need to submit something to my advisor this afternoon.” “Oh, then you should go!” I said, trying to be understanding. “I’m feeling much better. I’ll just rest this afternoon and I should be fine.” He nodded, his voice softer. “I’ll come back to see you later tonight.” He practically fled the room. Wow, being a grad student must be tough, I thought. A message from an advisor is like a summons from the grim reaper. Mr. Miller came back in just as he left. “Eddie’s gone already?” I nodded, smiling. “Yeah. He said he’ll be back later.” Mr. Miller looked relieved. “The doctor thinks it would be best if a family member came to the hospital,” he said. “Your parents are abroad and can’t get back right away. Should I contact your brother?” Brother? I have a brother? Seeing my blank expression, Mr. Miller looked unsurprised. He took my phone, tapped the screen a few times, and handed it back. “This is your brother.” I looked down. The profile picture was a beagle wearing sunglasses. The contact name was “Human Wishing Well.” Our chat history was sparse, consisting almost entirely of money transfers from him to me, and him immediately offering to “take care of” anyone who made me upset. He was faster than Amazon Prime. “Ava, you probably don’t remember, but Ethan is your brother. Not by blood, though. Your parents adopted him,” Mr. Miller explained. “He’s three years older than you and always takes good care of you.” That made sense. I sent him a message. [Brother.] He replied almost instantly with a string of fifty question marks. I had no idea what he was so surprised about, but I typed on. [Are you free right now?] Human Wishing Well: [Of course! What’s wrong? Who’s bothering you this time?] Human Wishing Well: [Send me their info. I’ll take care of them.] Human Wishing Well: [Need some money? I’ll transfer it right now.] Human Wishing Well: [And what did you just call me? Can you say it again? TvT…] What a strange brother. And what a strange request. But I humored him. [Brother, can you come to the hospital?] Another row of question marks appeared, followed by an incoming voice call. I’ve always hated phone calls. Amnesia hadn’t changed that. I ruthlessly declined it. Human Wishing Well: [? Why didn’t you answer? What’s wrong?] Human Wishing Well: [Is this a scammer?!] Human Wishing Well: [Scammers should rot in hell. Give her phone back or I’ll hunt you down.] Me: […Don’t feel like talking. Too lazy.] Human Wishing Well: [Oh, it’s you.] Me: [I have amnesia.] Another long string of question marks. It fit his profile picture perfectly. Human Wishing Well: [Do you still remember who I am?] I was starting to get annoyed. [Yes, you’re my brother, aren’t you?] Human Wishing Well: [Yes!! Yes!! I’m your favorite brother!!] Please stop adding weird adjectives yourself, I thought. I pretended not to see it. [If you’re free, can you come to the hospital? The doctor needs to speak with a family member.] Human Wishing Well: [Send me the address.] After I sent the location, I added, [Don’t worry, it’s not serious,] just in case he was worried. Human Wishing Well: [Okay, I’m on my way ^^.] [No rush,] I typed. [Mr. Miller is here with me. And my fiancé came to visit earlier.] There was a moment of silence. Then, a new, even longer row of shocked question marks. Human Wishing Well: [Fiancé?? Who the hell is that!!?] 3 It wasn’t long before Ethan arrived, looking flustered. He was still in a suit and tie, but his short, stylish hair and the single earring in his left ear clashed with the formal attire. “Ava…” he began, sitting by my bed, his face a mixture of excitement and emotion. “So, after losing your memory, I’m the only one you remember?” “Uh, actually, I don’t remember you either…” Ethan: “?” I handed him my phone. “Mr. Miller told me the person with this profile picture is my brother.” Ethan took the phone and glanced at the screen. His mouth twitched. “Why did you save my name as ‘Human Wishing Well’?” I felt like everyone I’d met today belonged in a hospital bed more than I did. “If I knew that, would it still be called amnesia?” “Good point…” Even though my stepbrother seemed a little unreliable, he was the only family I had right now. I tugged on his sleeve and whispered, “Brother, can I be discharged? I want to go home.” Ethan’s heart melted. “Of course! I’ll go take care of the paperwork right now!” He strode to the door, then turned back and cleared his throat. “Oh, by the way, Ava, there’s something I forgot to tell you.” I looked at him, curious. He took a deep breath and said in a low, serious voice, “At home, you’ve always called me ‘Big Bro’.” … Half an hour later, I was in the car on the way home. Ethan kept fussing over me. “Want a drink? How about a snack?” I shook my head, smiling. “No, thank you, Big Bro.” “Ah… Music? A game?” “I’m good, thanks, Big Bro. You don’t have to go to any trouble.” Ethan savored the title, a satisfied look on his face. As I scrolled through our chat history, a question popped into my head. “Big Bro, I get the feeling we didn’t get along very well before.” Ethan bristled like a stray dog. “Who said that! Who said that!” I showed him my phone. “I saw it myself. And my tone with you was… not very nice.” Tears welled up in Ethan’s eyes. “What do you mean, not nice? I thought it was great.” Me: “?” Are you okay, bro? In our chats, I treated him like a dog. If he did anything to displease me, I would chew him out. And he would just take it, never arguing, only saying, [Don’t be mad. It’s all my fault. I transferred you some money. Go buy yourself a nice bag.] How could I have been so awful? But Ethan started listing my virtues. “Look, whenever someone bullied you, you’d tell me to go beat them up. Isn’t that just you being concerned about my health, afraid I’d get a beer belly, making sure I got some exercise?” “And you made me give you money every week. Why? Because you knew I’d just waste it! You were stopping me at the source! And you didn’t buy junk, you bought gold and luxury bags. What’s that? An investment! You were managing my finances for me!” “And sure, sometimes you were a little blunt, but who cares? We’re family! They say the people who love you the most hurt you the most. You love me the most, so I totally get it.” Me: “?” The car pulled into a gated community of villas. As I got out, Ethan held a parasol over my head. “By the way,” he said suddenly, “you mentioned your fiancé came to see you. Who is he?” I smiled. “He said his name is Eddie. Do you know him?” Ethan fell silent. After a long moment, he ground out, “Damn it. My house has been robbed.” “Don’t you dare believe a word he says,” he hissed. “He looks all innocent on the outside, but he’s rotten to the core. A total liar.” Just as he finished, a cynical laugh echoed from the front steps. “Are you introducing yourself?”

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