Author: Momo Chan

1 When Eddie’s childhood friend’s company went bankrupt, he wanted to use the hundred thousand dollars I had set aside—our child’s life-saving fund—to rescue her. I begged him to give the money back, but all he said was, “June will earn it back. You need to be more forward-thinking, not some paranoid miser.” When I demanded he have her sign a promissory note, he called me cold and heartless. Later, his friend cried that the money was all gone and she would starve. Eddie held her, comforted her, and promised to support her for the rest of her life. I quietly packed my bags and called my father. “Dad, you were right. Eddie is a piece of work. I’m coming home to take over the business.” … I had just hung up the phone when Eddie emerged from the bedroom. “Anna,” he said softly, “go make some soup for June. She’ll be hungry when she wakes up.” I ignored him and started walking toward my own room. His face darkened, and he blocked my path. “Anna Chevalier, it was just a hundred thousand dollars. Are you still throwing a fit about it? Don’t you have any compassion?” His voice rose. “If you’re not going to listen, then get out.” His shout woke June. She propped herself up, draping an arm over Eddie’s shoulder and shooting me a look of pure disdain. “Honestly, Eddie. You were the campus king from high school through grad school, and your family is well-off. How did you end up with such a petty girl?” Eddie sighed, his eyes on June. “Not everyone can be as generous and easygoing as you.” He glanced at my stomach. “But we already have a child on the way. It’s too late for regrets now.” I cradled my belly, staring at the impatience etched on Eddie’s face. Could I even have this child? My doctor had already told me this was a high-risk pregnancy. To have any chance of carrying the baby to term, and to ensure its health afterward, would cost at least a hundred thousand dollars, from prenatal care to the first few years of life. And even then, there were no guarantees it would be a healthy child. Now, with each passing day, I could feel the fragile life inside me growing weaker. And that hundred thousand dollars was gone. I had to divorce Eddie. Only when I went home, alone, would my father give me money again. When I had defied him to marry Eddie, he had forbidden me from ever mentioning my family’s background, worried it would crush Eddie’s pride and ambition. I was only three months along. Maybe it was better not to bring an unhealthy child into the world to suffer, especially with a father like this. But what hurt the most was that Eddie knew. He knew that money was meant to save my life and our child’s life, and he still gave it to June without a second thought. If two human lives meant less to him than June, then there was no reason for me and my child to stay. I turned and went to my room to grab my purse and suitcase, ready to head to the hospital. June lunged forward and grabbed my suitcase. “Anna, stop it!” she yelled. “Don’t pull this ‘running away from home’ drama to make things difficult for Eddie.” “I’m going out to drink with clients tonight,” she declared, her voice laced with theatrical martyrdom. “Even if I have to drink until my stomach bleeds and I pass out in someone else’s bed, I, June, will pay you back. Happy now?” Eddie, who never set foot in the kitchen, heard the commotion and came running out. June had already changed into a flimsy, black silk slip dress. She patted Eddie’s shoulder as she walked towards the door. “Bro, I won’t let you be put in a tough spot. I’m going to go earn that money. You just handle your wife.” Eddie rushed to the door and bolted it. For a fleeting moment, a spark of hope ignited in my heart. Was he afraid I would leave? He strode towards me, and I held my breath, waiting for an apology. Instead, his voice, cold as ice, lashed out at me. “Anna, you are the most vicious woman I have ever met. You’re a woman yourself. How could you force June to sell her body to pay you back?” 2 Before I could even explain, Eddie ripped the purse from my shoulder and threw it into the fireplace. He glared at me, his eyes burning with cold fury. “No ID, no credit cards. Let’s see how far you get now.” Then he turned to June, his voice softening. “June, we’ve known each other for years. You’re closer to me than my own brother. You don’t have to pay me back. We can sell the house, sell the car if we have to. Go change. I’ll take you out for a nice meal.” He wrinkled his nose. “The smell from that burning bag is toxic. We can’t eat here.” I scrambled to the fireplace, trying to retrieve my purse, but it was already a melted, gaping mess. My ID, the last few hundred dollars in cash I had, all of it was gone. The screen of my phone had cracked and warped in the heat. Fearing it might explode, I ran to the kitchen, grabbed a pair of barbecue tongs, and carefully pulled the phone from the flames. As Eddie and June left, he deliberately triple-locked the door from the outside. I was trapped. My phone was broken. He had done this on purpose. But had he forgotten? I hadn’t eaten either. The morning sickness was unbearable; I had no strength to cook. There were no snacks in the house, because I’d been too sick to go shopping. I lay on the bed, my stomach growling with hunger, my body wracked with waves of nausea. I didn’t even have the energy to make myself a bowl of soup. Then I felt a warm gush between my legs and the metallic scent of blood. Something was terribly wrong. Using every last bit of strength I had, I crawled to the window. I saw the lights on in the apartment below. I grabbed a laundry pole and banged it repeatedly against my neighbor’s window, screaming for help. The lady downstairs, Mrs. Gable, knew me well. She knew about my difficult pregnancy. Her voice, filled with alarm, carried up to me. “Honey, don’t you worry! I’m calling 911 right now! I’ll get the building manager to open your door!” Within ten minutes, the paramedics and the building manager were there. The door was open. I frantically borrowed Mrs. Gable’s phone and called Eddie. I had no money, but he had just received a ten-thousand-dollar bonus. He answered quickly. “Eddie, you have to come back,” I pleaded, my voice cracking. “I’m bleeding. The paramedics said I might lose the baby.” I heard a soft scoff from the other end. It was June. “Anna, you’re just like one of those women in a palace drama. Using the baby to get your man’s attention.” The blood was flowing faster now. I couldn’t hold back my fury. “Have you no shame? It’s the middle of the night and you’re still hanging all over a married man!” June didn’t answer. She tossed the phone aside but didn’t hang up. I could hear music in the background. They were at a karaoke bar. It was a duet. Eddie and June, singing a classic song about friendship. I could just make out the line: “One word, a lifetime. One drink, an eternal bond.” I screamed his name into the phone, but he couldn’t hear me over the music. As their voices rose in a powerful, off-key crescendo for the final chorus: “There’s still pain, there’s still hurt, there’s still a long road, and there’s still me.” I hung up the phone. I should never have held out hope for Eddie. His friendship, his loyalty to her, would always come before his wife and child. But were they just friends? The sobs finally broke through. I called my dad. He told me he would have a friend in the city, Mr. Sterling, deliver cash immediately, and that he would have all my documents reissued within a day. Only then did I allow myself to be taken to the hospital. The surgery was under general anesthesia, but I still felt a deep, dull ache in my heart. Eddie had been so excited for this child. We had even picked out names, one for a boy and one for a girl. He knew how dangerous this pregnancy was. But the moment June needed something, he forgot everything else. I had always believed that once the baby came, over time, he would see the warmth of the home we had built. He would see how much I loved him. He would choose us over her. Now I knew. It was all just a foolish dream.

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This weekend, my husband and I were invited to a charity auction. During the bidding, my husband’s secretary and I both set our sights on the same oil painting. Just as I was preparing for a fair contest, my husband publicly signaled his unlimited support for his secretary, effectively declaring he would outbid anyone for her. “Jeannie,” she sneered, “you’re nothing but a pet my family keeps on a leash. What right do you have to compete with me?” As the other guests began to drop out of the bidding, I snapped my fingers at the auctioneer. “Whatever Mr. Posehn is offering,” I said, my voice ringing clear, “I’ll bid… one dollar more.” 1 A hush fell over the room as every guest turned to stare at me. A moment later, it was broken by a wave of derisive laughter. “Is this woman out of her mind? She’s bidding against her own husband. Does she have money to burn?” “It’s not just that she’s lost her mind—she never had one to begin with. A mere trophy wife daring to challenge Vincent Posehn in public. She has no idea who she’s dealing with.” “I heard before I came that Mr. Posehn picked up a pretty little thing years ago and has been keeping her at home. I never thought I’d actually see her in person.” As the murmurs grew louder, Vincent’s face grew darker. He shot to his feet, pointing a finger at me as his voice boomed across the hall. “Jeannie, put your hand down this instant! Do you hear me?” He was practically seething. “You’re spending my family’s money! How dare you compete with me?” I leaned back in my chair, my expression a mask of calm, and met his furious gaze. “Vincent, I am, for better or worse, your wife. A little respect wouldn’t kill you.” My eyes narrowed. “Why should I have to give up something I want for someone else?” My voice dropped, taking on a steely edge. “And for the record, I have never spent a single dime of your family’s money. Don’t you dare suggest otherwise.” Vincent’s face flushed a deep, mottled red. “Jeannie, have I not told you to call me Mr. Posehn in public? You are nothing but a pet on our payroll! We have no real relationship!” I let out a soft sigh, my eyes locked on his. “So, Mr. Posehn, are you truly going to fight me over this… for your little secretary?” The truth was, I’d sensed something was wrong the moment I walked in. As Vincent’s wife, I should have been seated beside him. Instead, I was relegated to a forgotten corner. I had swallowed my pride. After all, old Mr. Posehn, Vincent’s father, had always been kind to me, even inviting me to play chess with him from time to time. A good woman should know when to tolerate her husband’s foolish ego. But I never imagined that my seat would be occupied by Vincent’s secretary, Jenna. A fresh college graduate whose only remarkable quality was her youth. And yet, here was my idiotic husband, ready to go to war for her. The thought sent a blaze of anger roaring through me. But the so-called rising star of the business world was too self-absorbed to notice. He continued his tirade. “Who the hell do you think you are, Jeannie? I don’t need your permission to do anything. You’ve spent years eating our food, living in our house. What could you possibly have to fight me with?” His voice rose to a fever pitch. “I’m not afraid to tell you right now, I am buying this painting for Jenna!” Before I could even react, the secretary herself couldn’t resist chiming in. She shot me a look dripping with provocation. “Miss Chevalier, I suggest you just give up. If you make Mr. Posehn unhappy, your life might become… difficult.” She paused, a malicious grin spreading across her face. “A trophy wife should know her place, don’t you think, Miss Chevalier?” Jenna’s words drew another round of laughter from the surrounding tables. Even the auctioneer on stage couldn’t hide a smirk. I, however, simply waved a dismissive hand and let out a cold laugh. “So, what I’m hearing, Miss Jenna, is that you’re determined to go against me today?” Jenna’s smile turned wicked, her eyes filled with contempt. “Miss Chevalier, it’s not that I’m trying to be cruel. But you’re a housewife. You don’t even have a job. How could you possibly compete with me? Mr. Posehn has made a patronage pledge—the sky’s the limit. Do you have that kind of money to follow?” I slowly lifted my head and offered her a serene smile. “You’re wrong, Jenna. You and I are nothing alike.” My voice was soft, but it carried across the silent room. “I don’t need a man to buy me things.” Her statement was met with a fresh wave of mockery. “My God, the nerve of this girl. She probably wouldn’t have even gotten through the door if not for Mr. Posehn.” “Exactly! She’s only here because she married into the Posehn family.” “Who would even bother with her if not for him? Auctioneer, just call it. Let’s not waste any more of our time.” The taunts swirled around me, but they didn’t touch me. Because every word I said was the truth. If I wasn’t trying to save Vincent a shred of dignity, I could have stood up and announced that the Posehn Corporation itself belonged to me. Seeing my silence, the secretary grew even bolder. “See? I told you. A woman with no power should just stay at home. Now you’ve made a fool of yourself.” Before Jenna could finish, I slowly raised my bidding paddle. “Who said I was backing down?” My voice was a silken threat. “It’s just money. Darling, that’s the one thing I have plenty of.” 2 Every eye in the room was now fixed on me. Even the auctioneer on stage was frozen, unsure of what to do next. He probably knew I didn’t have the money, but professional courtesy dictated that he couldn’t drop the hammer as long as there was an active bidder. Vincent’s roar echoed through the hall. “Jeannie! You’re really determined to make an enemy of me today, aren’t you?” I shot a glance at the smug secretary standing beside him and answered with cold, hard finality. “Yes.” The single word hung in the air. Vincent bellowed, his voice raw with fury. “Fine! Fine! Let’s see just how much money you have to fight me with!” He thrust his paddle into the air without a moment’s hesitation. “Ten million dollars!” Anyone familiar with auctions knows that a patronage pledge is a point of no return. You either see it through to the end, or you declare financial ruin. If Vincent was willing to gamble his entire company for a secretary, then I was more than happy to play along. “Ten million… and one dollar.” My voice was calm. Heads snapped in my direction. I could read the ridicule on their faces; they were all waiting for the punchline to this spectacular joke. No one here knew I was the silent force behind the Posehn Corporation. Years ago, when the Posehn family was on the brink of bankruptcy, its patriarch, Arthur Posehn, had appeared on my doorstep late at night, clutching a marriage contract, begging me to save his family. To repay a debt owed to a previous generation, I had gritted my teeth and married his son, Vincent. But this man, my husband, had never shown me an ounce of respect. He humiliated me daily, and now he dared to pledge his fortune to another woman right in front of my face. It was a slight I simply could not swallow. “You bitch, do you even have the money to back that up?” Jenna’s voice was shrill now, her composure cracking as she saw me stand my ground against her boss. “This is a high-end auction, not a flea market! Don’t say I didn’t warn you—if you can’t pay up, you’ll go to jail!” I looked up at her and smiled sweetly. “Jenna, whether I have money or not is none of your concern. I’d be more worried about your boss if I were you. There’s no backing out of a game like this.” My words seemed to ignite the last of Vincent’s restraint. He shot to his feet, paddle held high. “How dare you lecture my people, Jeannie? You want to play? Let’s see what you’ve really got in that purse of yours!” He roared, his voice shaking the crystal chandeliers. “I’ll raise it another ten million! Twenty million total!” A collective gasp went through the room. This was a charity auction, after all. The items were valuable, but none were worth tens of millions. The painting in question was the work of a child, not an old master. “Mr. Posehn, how generous!” I said, clapping slowly as I rose to my feet. “On behalf of the children in underprivileged communities, I thank you.” I paused, a slow smile spreading across my lips. “But… since this is for charity, more is always better, isn’t it?” As the room watched in stunned silence, I slowly extended a single, elegant finger. “Twenty million… and one dollar.” 3 No one in that room could have predicted I would dare to defy Vincent so brazenly. The looks they gave me were a mixture of shock and morbid curiosity. Every person here was a titan of industry. Vincent himself had only earned a seat at this table because of the Posehn Corporation’s recent meteoric rise. From the look in his eyes, I could tell he was enjoying this. He relished the opportunity to put me in my place. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he announced, his voice dripping with false sincerity. “Let me be clear. While this woman is legally my wife, she and I have no real connection. If she is unable to produce the funds later, the Posehn Corporation will not be held responsible.” I almost laughed out loud. “Vince, I wouldn’t be so quick to cut ties,” I said, my voice dangerously sweet. “After all, you’re the only one here who made such a grand patronage pledge. If you can’t pay up, you might find yourself begging me to bail you out.” My words were a direct challenge. The secretary, Jenna, couldn’t stand it. She shot up from her seat. “Jeannie, are you daydreaming? You, a mere housewife, presuming to compare yourself to the entire Posehn Corporation? You’re delusional.” I just shook my head, my composure unshaken. “It might be hard for you to believe right now, but it’s the truth. If you don’t believe me, by all means, let your Mr. Posehn test that theory.” Jenna raised an eyebrow, a sneer twisting her lips. “Fine. Let’s see. A woman who doesn’t even know her own worth has no business acting so high and mighty in front of me.” I didn’t let her words faze me. In fact, I felt a strange sense of calm. “I’m sorry, but we’re not the same. I, Jeannie Chevalier, have never needed a man’s money to buy anything I want.” As soon as I spoke, the guests who recognized me from past events started whispering again. “Please, anyone can talk big. If she were that powerful, why would she be content as a housewife?” “Exactly. Mr. Posehn is a rising star with a net worth in the hundreds of millions. What is she?” “She’s nothing but a clown, desperate for attention. Let’s just ignore her.” I slowly rose to my feet, my gaze sweeping across the entire room. “Everyone, listen closely,” I said, my voice cutting through the noise. “It’s not just the Posehn family I look down on. It’s every single one of you in this room.” I may not be a businesswoman, but I know how to be a decent human being. From the moment I entered this hall, these so-called titans of industry had been more interested in kissing up to Vincent than in the charity they were supposedly here to support. My declaration made me the target of everyone’s fury. Even the auctioneer had had enough. “Ma’am, we do not welcome people like you at this event.” I slowly tilted my head, looking up at the stage. “Oh? And what kind of person am I? Please, do tell.” Before the auctioneer could answer, Jenna stormed onto the stage and snatched the microphone from his hand. “Jeannie Chevalier, you are a nobody!” Her voice, amplified by the speakers, filled every corner of the room. The business magnates rose to their feet, applauding in agreement. Even Vincent, who had been silent for some time, watched me with a look of malicious glee. Seeing the scene before me, I had a moment of stunning clarity. The decision I’d made to save the Posehn family all those years ago had been an act of monumental foolishness. I remained silent for a long moment. Jenna, thinking I was finally intimidated, raised the microphone again. “Hey, you! Now you see why Mr. Posehn doesn’t want you sitting next to him, don’t you?” She leaned into the microphone, her voice rising to a triumphant shriek. “Because… you’re not worthy!”

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My wife, who’d been dead for seven years, was back. Not only that, she’d brought a man with her. And she expected me to just step aside and hand over my title as her husband. “Seth nearly lost his sight saving me. I’ve already promised to marry him,” she said, her voice dripping with an unearned authority. “If you sign the divorce papers quietly, I’ll let you continue living here.” I was silent for a moment, then answered coolly, “Actually, I’m already married to someone else.” She rolled her eyes. “Don’t be difficult, Patrick. Everyone knows you’re still head over heels in love with me.” 1 But I wasn’t the same Patrick Rhodes from seven years ago—the pathetic fool who would have done anything for her, the man who had groveled at her feet until he had no dignity left. “I have no reason to lie. I’m married.” Echo shot me a look of pure contempt, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. “Stop the act, Patrick. I’m not here to ask for your permission. I’m informing you. Whether you like it or not, I’m marrying Seth.” Seth stepped forward, lacing his fingers with hers. His voice was a soft, cloying melody of faux innocence. “Echo, darling, please don’t fight with Patrick. It’s just my bad luck. Maybe you should just send me back.” He made a show of turning to leave, but his hand clutched the hem of her dress, and the look he shot me was a triumphant glare. It was a pathetic, transparent performance. Echo’s expression softened instantly. “Seth, don’t say that. You promised we’d be together forever.” She turned back to me, her confidence bafflingly absolute. “Don’t worry. Patrick is crazy about me. He’ll do anything I say. We’ll get married, I promise.” Seven years, and her delusional self-assurance had only gotten worse. Before I could speak, she fixed me with a threatening stare. “You’ve enjoyed seven years as the Sterling family’s golden boy. It’s time to let Seth have his turn. He’s suffered enough. I won’t let you bully him.” A sarcastic smile touched my lips. “I haven’t done a thing. Don’t try to pin this on me.” Echo’s eyes narrowed. She looked me up and down as if I were something she’d found on the bottom of her shoe. “Do you actually think you’re important? If it weren’t for the fact that you waited seven years for me, I would have thrown you out of this house the second I walked in. I wouldn’t be wasting my breath.” Throw me out? She wouldn’t get the chance. And what on earth made her think I’d waited seven years for her? The day she abandoned me was the day I gave up on her completely. Seven years ago, I was in a limousine, dressed in my wedding tuxedo, traveling over winding mountain roads to pick up my bride. And she ran. She left me at the altar. The official story was a tragedy. A landslide on the road. While I was out of the car checking the damage, Echo had supposedly slipped and fallen from a cliff. For seven years, everyone believed she was dead. I even picked out her gravesite myself. Marrying into the Sterling family was a future my father had fought tooth and nail to secure for me. Echo could throw away the Rhodes family’s reputation, but I couldn’t. And besides, she wasn’t the only woman in her family. For the past seven years, I’ve been a husband and a father. If she hadn’t suddenly reappeared, I would have completely forgotten she ever existed. So, seeing her again after all this time stirred nothing in me. “Echo, let me repeat myself one more time,” I said, my voice flat. “You and I are not husband and wife. Legally, you’re a deceased person. Who you marry is none of my business.” Echo let out a dismissive scoff. “At least you know your place. If you hadn’t been so obsessed with marrying me back then, I never would have had to run off to another country and hide for seven years.” So, that was it. I’d always wondered how she was the only one who died when so many people were there. It wasn’t a tragic accident; it was a disappearing act. She hadn’t changed at all—still willing to do anything to get her way, no matter who she hurt. When the news of her “death” had reached her mother, the woman had collapsed on the spot. She’d fallen into a deep sickness, nearly following her daughter to the grave. The butler, who had just rushed in, overheard Echo’s callous words. “Miss Echo, you mustn’t say such things,” he stammered. “Mr. Rhodes is now the VP of Sterling Corp.” “VP?” Seth, standing beside her, asked with a flicker of darkness in his eyes. “Echo, didn’t you say your grandfather would only ever make you CEO?” Echo’s face stiffened. She stared at me, confused. “My father only has one daughter. Who else is qualified to inherit the company besides me?” I just watched her, my expression unreadable. Had she left her brain overseas? Did she have any idea how foolish she sounded? The butler was sweating, wiping his brow frantically. “Miss Echo, what are you saying? Mr. Rhodes is married to Miss Julia. She is the CEO of Sterling Corp now. Your aunt, don’t you remember?” The day Echo left me stranded, I stood on that highway, lost, the eyes of a hundred gossiping onlookers burning into me. That’s when Julia had stepped forward. She said she would marry me. In that moment, I was adrift, powerless. Everyone in New York knew it was my wedding day, and my bride had died on the way to the ceremony. Cursed. Jinx. A black mark. Those words were nails pinning me to a pillar of public shame. And then, suddenly, someone was offering me a way out. A hand to pull me from the wreckage. She would save the Rhodes family from humiliation. Why wouldn’t I have married her? Julia hadn’t even planned on attending her niece’s wedding. She’d only returned to the country at the behest of the old man, her father. And in a bizarre twist of fate, she became my wife instead. Echo stared at me, her face a mask of ridicule. “Everyone knows my aunt Julia is a titan of industry. All she cares about is her career. She wouldn’t give a pathetic lapdog like Patrick a second glance.” Julia Sterling was a legend in New York’s business world. Half of the Sterling empire was built on her personal ventures. Within the family, she was treated like a queen. To this day, I still don’t fully understand why she married me. There were so many men richer and more handsome than me. The butler kept trying. “Miss Echo, it’s true. You can look up the news online. Or ask anyone in the family.” Echo just curled her lip in disdain. She randomly pointed to a gardener, then a maid. They both gave her the same answer. Her composure finally cracked. Her face went rigid as she glared at me. “Well, well, Patrick. You work fast, don’t you? I’m gone for a few years, and you’ve already got the entire staff wrapped around your finger, all of them in on your little conspiracy to lie to me.” I remained calm, refusing to get drawn into her madness. My marriage to Julia was a hard fact. Whether Echo believed it or not meant nothing to me. She’d been spoiled her whole life. The butler, fearing another outburst, quickly sent someone to call Julia. “Get Miss Julia’s assistant on the phone! Tell her to come home immediately!” Julia was in the middle of negotiating an aerospace deal and had left for the office early. The old man, Mr. Sterling, and Echo’s mother weren’t home either. Otherwise, Echo wouldn’t have dared to cause such a scene. As the standoff thickened the air, my daughter Ava suddenly burst into the room. “Daddy, why didn’t you come back to play with me?” The moment Echo saw Ava, her face twisted in rage. It was obvious why. Ava was a miniature, female version of me. Echo’s gaze darted between me and the child, her body trembling. Finally, she raised a shaking hand and pointed it at me. “How dare you betray me. You even have a bastard child.” Her voice was a venomous hiss. “Tell me, whose is it?” Ava, who inherited Julia’s sharp personality, might not have fully understood the word, but she knew it was an insult. She tapped her chin, looking like a tiny, serious adult. “Who are you calling a bastard? My mommy says people with dirty mouths are just trash.” Ava was six. She knew almost everyone in the household, but she’d never seen Echo before. Echo immediately snapped back, “How dare you talk back, you little brat.” That was it. I saw red. This was my precious daughter, the light of my life. How dare she call her that? “Echo,” I growled, my voice low and dangerous. “You watch your mouth. Or I promise, you’ll regret it.” Seth, ever the snake, glanced at me and added casually, “The child looks like she’s old enough for school, doesn’t she? Don’t tell me you cheated on Echo before you were even married?” The words were poison. Echo’s eyes went wide with fury, and she looked at me as if she wanted to claw my face off. There is nothing a woman hates more than being cheated on, especially when the man was once her devoted admirer—a man who had sworn to love her until the day he died. “She’s six,” I said calmly. “You son of a bitch, Patrick!” Echo shrieked. “I’m gone for seven years, and you have a child with someone else? Have you no shame?” Only seven years? We’d only known each other for a few years before she took off for seven of them. And she was the one who abandoned me. The butler rushed to explain. “Miss Echo, that’s Miss Julia’s child!” “Shut up!” she screamed at him. “You traitorous old fool! Where are my parents? Who let him get away with this? Cheating on me and acting so smug about it!” “The entire Sterling family knows, Miss Echo.” At the time, Echo’s parents had felt so guilty about her running away that they hadn’t objected to me marrying Julia. Hearing this, Echo finally exploded. Her eyes were like daggers, scanning the room. “Who is the slut? Who dared to humiliate the Sterling family like this? Does she have a death wish?” No matter how hard she looked, she couldn’t find a single plausible suspect among the staff. I let out a dry, humorless laugh. Seth, with a sickeningly sweet tone of concern, tried to counsel me. “Patrick, you should just confess. If you push Echo too far, even I won’t be able to help you.” I shot him a withering look. “We’re both men here. Cut the act.” Before I could react, Echo’s hand whipped through the air and cracked across my face. “You shut your mouth!” she screamed, her voice ragged. “You’re the one who cheated! You had a child behind my back, and you have the nerve to lecture Seth?” I hadn’t seen it coming. My cheek instantly flared with a hot, stinging pain. Seeing me get hit, Ava charged forward like a little bull. “You hit my daddy! I’ll get you!” “Ava!” Echo snatched Ava up by the collar of her dress, lifting her off the ground. My heart hammered against my ribs. “Echo, put her down!” The maids and other staff rushed forward. “Miss, please, put the child down!” one of them pleaded. “Miss Julia will not be merciful if anything happens to her.” Everyone in the Sterling household knew that Ava was the center of Julia’s universe, a treasure she protected fiercely. But Echo just sneered. “Get out of my way if you want to keep your jobs. Today, I’m going to teach them both a lesson.” My blood ran cold. “Echo, what are you doing?” Her face was a mask of venomous rage, her entire presence turning glacial. “According to the law, you committed adultery during our marriage and had a child. I can demand you leave with nothing and compensate me for my emotional distress.” The problem was, we were never married. My hands clenched into fists, veins bulging on the back. “Echo, we were never married! There was no adultery! Now put my daughter down!” If she weren’t a woman, I would have already tackled her. I, Patrick Rhodes, do not hit women. Ava’s little legs kicked in the air. She was dangling, struggling, but surprisingly, she wasn’t crying. She wasn’t afraid. The staff, intimidated by Echo’s threats, kept their distance, offering only weak, useless pleas. Echo ignored them completely. She shot me a dark, cryptic look. “After I’m done with this little bastard, I’ll deal with you personally.” With that, she started carrying Ava towards the door. The staff exchanged panicked glances, but no one dared to intervene. Finally, the old butler blocked her path. Echo’s face darkened. “What? You dare to stand in my way?” The butler, sweating profusely, bowed his head respectfully. “Miss, please, let’s talk this through. Don’t be rash. Please, put the little princess down.” Seizing the opportunity, I lunged for my daughter, but Seth intercepted me. He blocked my path with a sinister grin. “Patrick, what are you doing? Don’t do anything foolish now.” I swung. My fist connected with his face with a satisfying crack. “If anything happens to my daughter,” I snarled, “I will make you both regret the day you were born.” Seth stumbled backward, crashing into a nearby vase, which shattered on the floor. He hit his head, and blood began to trickle from a cut on his forehead. Seeing him hurt, Echo’s eyes turned red with fury. She channeled all her rage onto Ava. “You dare touch Seth? I’ll kill this little bastard!” She lifted Ava high, preparing to hurl her to the ground. For a split second, my heart stopped. I dove forward on pure instinct. “AVA!” Seeing her mother’s friend turn into a monster, Ava, finally just a small child, burst into terrified tears. “Get away from me!” Echo screamed at me. “I’ll deal with you later!” I wrapped my arms around my daughter, holding her tight, refusing to let go no matter how hard Echo pulled and clawed at me. Finally, Echo’s patience snapped. She grabbed a heavy ceramic flowerpot from a nearby stand and swung it at my head. A searing flash of pain. I felt something warm and wet trickling down my face. The butler and others rushed to pull her back, but she screamed them away. “Miss, stop! That’s your aunt’s husband!” the butler cried, grabbing her arm to stop another blow. Just then, a calm, cool voice sliced through the chaos from the doorway. “What, exactly, is going on in here?” “You’d all better have a very good explanation for this.”

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Kevin drove over to pick me up. He was always so cool and distant. But today, his new secretary was sitting in the passenger seat. Right then, I knew. This marriage was over. 1 The day Kevin came to get me, I opened the passenger-side door and froze. A pretty young woman was sitting there, a sweet smile on her face. “Hi, Mrs. King!” She was polite, but she made no move to get out of my seat. My eyes narrowed, my gaze shifting to Kevin. He was on the phone, his head down, oblivious to the storm brewing right beside him. We were supposed to go to an auction together tonight. It was a date I’d been looking forward to, one I’d dressed up for. And here was someone else, sitting in my seat. “Hi, Mrs. King. My name is Bella. I’m Mr. King’s new assistant,” the girl said, her smile widening into two charming dimples. “I heard you were going to a private auction tonight, so I begged Mr. King to let me tag along and see what it’s like. Don’t worry, I won’t be a bother.” My heart plummeted. I knew this man. I knew the cool, perfect man I’d married. He kept his distance from everyone. He didn’t let people get close. Our marriage had been an arrangement, a strategic alliance between our families. We chose each other after careful consideration. People had joked that I was signing up for a life of lonely nights. But after we were together, he would hold me, his eyes soft. In moments of passion, the corners of his eyes would turn a faint red. “You’re my wife,” he’d said. “We are one. You’re different from everyone else.” Today, something was different. 2 But I am not some wilting flower who swallows her pride. I am Mary Lane, and I’ve never had to watch my words for anyone. “Get out.” My voice was ice. I showed no mercy. The girl stared at me, stunned. She clearly hadn’t expected me to be so blunt. The coldness in my tone left her speechless. “I… I’m sorry, Mrs. King,” she stammered, her voice trembling on the verge of tears as she scrambled into the back seat. Kevin hung up the phone just in time to see the aftermath. He knew I was angry. A look of weary indulgence crossed his face. He leaned over and fastened my seatbelt for me. I noticed the seat had been adjusted. Annoyed, I readjusted everything—the seat, the mirrors, the steering wheel—fuming. “This is so annoying! Who the hell dares to mess with my seat?” The air in the car turned frigid. The girl in the back didn’t dare make a sound. Kevin’s brow furrowed. “If you’re not in the mood today,” he suggested calmly, “we can just go home.” In the rearview mirror, I could see the woman silently crying. I was seething. “Bella, was it?” I said, my voice sharp. “I’m not in the mood anymore. You can take a taxi home. Mr. King and I are leaving.” The girl’s face went pale. She looked at Kevin for help, but he offered none. Dejected, she got out of the car. 3 Kevin would never humiliate me in front of others. He was a master of self-control. That’s why he suggested we go home. Whatever the problem, we would deal with it at home. That was our understanding. “She’s just a kid, fresh out of college,” he said, pulling me into his arms once we were inside. “Why are you getting so worked up over something so small?” “It’s the first time.” “What is?” “In all these years, this is the first time you’ve let another woman sit in your passenger seat.” He hadn’t expected that. He knew how many women were interested in him. He was a catch. But he’d always been so disciplined, never straying. He smiled, ruffling my hair. “I can’t believe I finally made you jealous.” He leaned in and kissed me, his nose brushing against my cheek. “She’s just my employee. That’s all. There will never be anything else between us.” He held my face in his hands, his gaze intense. “I promise.” 4 A woman’s intuition is rarely wrong. Even though I’d only met Bella once, I knew she had her sights set on Kevin. I thought my little display of dominance would be enough to put her in her place. I was wrong. The necklace from the auction—the one that was supposed to be mine—was around her neck the very next day. Michael, Kevin’s chief of staff, sent me a photo and a screenshot. In the photo, a diamond crescent moon necklace rested against Bella’s pale skin, making her look even more delicate and lovely. Her eyes were red and swollen, but she was smiling. She must have cried all night and received a little “gift” as a consolation prize. The screenshot was of her social media post: [ The boss says girls have to be strong, even when they’re upset! Wiping away the tears. Yes, sir, Mr. President! ] Followed by a series of cute, flexing-bicep emojis and a picture of the necklace in its box. My blood ran cold. I have to admit, it was hard to swallow. It felt like finding a dead mosquito squashed on a pristine white handkerchief. It was a strange, unsettling feeling. For a moment, I wanted to jump into my yellow Ferrari, redline it to her office, and slap her across the face. But then I looked at my own hands and thought, why am I even giving this cheap little tramp the time of day? I called my personal shopper at Hermès. Her voice was practically vibrating with excitement. “Don’t you worry, Mrs. King,” she promised. “I’ll move heaven and earth if I have to, but I’ll get you everything you need. It will all be delivered today!” And so, that afternoon, before the end of the workday, every single female executive assistant and senior administrator at King Corp—forty-six women in total, everyone except Bella—received a generous gift from the CEO’s wife: a twelve-thousand-dollar Hermès necklace. It wasn’t as expensive as the two-hundred-thousand-dollar auction piece, but the sheer volume of it made a statement. Michael, ever the smooth operator, instructed each recipient to post a picture on their social media with the caption: [ The boss’s wife says every girl deserves the best! Flexing my muscles. Yes, ma’am, Mrs. King! ] The women were more than happy to oblige. The executive assistants and senior admins were the gossip hub of the entire company. A gift from the CEO’s wife? They were ecstatic to post. Some of the savvier ones even added their own little flair: [Mrs. King really knows how to play the game!] Individually, these assistants might not have had much influence, but their collective reach was terrifying. Within half an hour, the entire company knew that the boss’s wife had gifted them all Hermès necklaces. As for why… the rumor mills were working overtime. Bella’s face was ashen. She looked utterly humiliated. With red-rimmed eyes, she fled to the bathroom and took off the diamond necklace. Two colleagues who came in to touch up their makeup saw her and snickered. Mortified, Bella kept her head down and hurried out, the sound of their laughter chasing her down the hall. Her cheeks burning, she put the necklace back in its box and returned it, untouched, to Kevin. 5 Kevin had just finished a video call with a partner when he saw her standing there, clutching the necklace box, looking miserable. She’d clearly been crying again. “What’s wrong?” he asked. Tears welled in Bella’s eyes before she could even speak. “Mr. King,” she whispered, her voice choked with sobs, “you should take this back. I can’t accept it.” A flicker of annoyance crossed Kevin’s handsome face. His gut told him something had happened, but he didn’t press. He just watched her. Bella bit her lip, hesitating, before finally telling him everything that had happened in the office that day. “I’m so sorry, Mr. King. I’m always causing trouble for you. I was just trying to cheer myself up with that post. I don’t know how Mrs. King found out.” She sniffled pitifully. “I didn’t think she would get so angry.” She looked like a sad little bunny. “Mr. King, I want to apologize to her. I can explain everything to her in person.” Kevin never looked at social media. His life was consumed by work. But as the CEO of a major corporation, he was all too familiar with the vicious cycle of office gossip. His already stern face grew even colder. “I see,” he said, his voice low. 6 That night, Kevin brought Bella home. The girl stood timidly behind him. “I asked Bella to come so she could explain things to you in person,” Kevin said with a sigh. “Mary, Bella is just my secretary. I gave her a gift to apologize for what happened yesterday. That’s all.” I stirred my spoon in the bird’s nest soup our cook had prepared and took a sip. “I’m sorry, Mrs. King,” Bella said, bowing deeply. She looked terrified, fragile. “It was the first time I’d ever received such an expensive gift. I got carried away. If I did something to upset you, please tell me. I’ll change, I promise!” I raised an eyebrow. “Bella, is it?” She glanced at Kevin, as if drawing courage from him, and nodded slowly. Seeing this little lamb trying to go head-to-head with me was almost comical. “I’m not your teacher, and I’m not your boss. I don’t have time to teach you how to behave. But I am Kevin King’s wife. And I don’t give second chances to anyone who tries to get too close to my husband.” The girl had probably never met anyone as direct as me in her entire life. Her face flushed, and she looked even more helpless. “Mary, Bella came to apologize,” Kevin said. He knew my temperament, my methods. Even if he didn’t approve of what I’d done, he understood why I’d done it. That’s why he’d agreed to let her come and apologize. He was trying to meet me halfway, to clear up the misunderstanding. We were both smart people. We could read each other with a single glance. “I know.” I decided to give him a chance. After all, he hadn’t actually cheated. “But there won’t be a next time. Not with anyone.” 7 “You didn’t have to resort to those kinds of tactics with her,” Kevin said as we were getting ready for bed. “You should have just told me.” I sat at my vanity, brushing my hair, staring at his handsome reflection in the mirror. “You knew I liked that necklace, but you gave it to another woman. Don’t I have a right to be angry?” I couldn’t imagine what I would do if this perfect man were ever to become tainted. Could I still love him? Kevin calmly poured himself a glass of ice water. “She cried all night because of your misunderstanding. I saw how swollen her eyes were in the morning, so I gave her the necklace as an apology.” His story was flawless. I studied him for a long moment. Two hundred thousand dollars was nothing to us. Giving it away on a whim was plausible. It just depended on whether the recipient was worth it. His fingers tapped against the marble countertop. He was waiting for me to think. This was the first time a third person had caused a rift between us. Our upbringings, our dispositions—we were both weary of this kind of drama. We were people who valued our dignity. “Kevin, I love you,” I said suddenly. His fingers stilled. He clearly hadn’t expected that. “Kevin, I love the version of you that is untouched, pure. That’s what sets you apart. You used to keep your distance from other women because you had emotional boundaries, because you wanted a clean marriage. I wasn’t like that before, but your values changed me. Now, we want the same thing. I hope our marriage never has to face a crossroads.” “It won’t,” he said, a note of frustration in his voice. “I haven’t done anything.” 8 Kevin was a very clear-headed person. He knew I was bothered, so he wouldn’t give Bella any more false hope. Without the CEO’s favor, Bella, as an intern, was relegated to the most basic tasks. Before, she’d had a chance to work the front desk. Now, Michael wouldn’t even put her on the schedule. I didn’t tell anyone to ostracize her. I trusted Kevin to handle it. But in a place like this, I didn’t need to. There were plenty of people willing to kiss up and kick down. Within two weeks, the new secretary couldn’t handle the fall from grace and the psychological pressure. She lost a noticeable amount of weight. The turning point came after an important board meeting. Bella had been assigned to clean the small conference room by herself. She was on her knees in a skirt suit, painstakingly scraping gum off the carpet with a razor blade. Kevin, who had returned to retrieve something, walked in on this scene. Sensing someone behind her, the girl scrambled to her feet, mortified. Kevin’s gaze was deep and cold. His silent stare stripped Bella of the last shreds of her dignity. “Mr. King,” she whispered, tears rolling down her cheeks. She wasn’t acting. Kevin was the sun she admired but could never touch. She had almost resigned herself to being marginalized. But to be seen like this… she wanted to push him away and run. In just two weeks, the once cheerful and lively girl had become this fragile. It was the first time I’d ever seen Kevin truly angry. He came home and slammed the glass of water I handed him onto the floor. It shattered. “Why won’t you just leave her alone?” he roared. “Mary, I respect you, I love you. I’ve tolerated your insults and your cruelty towards her time and time again. What kind of pleasure do you get from bullying someone weaker than you?” I remembered then. When Kevin was studying abroad, his younger sister, who was in middle school, had jumped to her death because of school bullying. It was a scar on his heart that would never heal, something he despised with a passion. “Mary, don’t let me see you use these tactics to hurt someone ever again. If you do, I won’t stand by and watch!” I stared at the man who had lost control. It was the first time since we’d been married that Kevin had lost his temper with me, all for another woman, for something I hadn’t even done. It was a terrible feeling. Like shattered glass. Like spilled water that could never be recovered.

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I flew home early to surprise my sister Nikki, but found our villa empty. Then I spotted fabric peeking from a locked dog kennel. Inside, Nikki was curled in a crate too small for a beagle. “Nikki?” I whispered, offering her favorite cream cakes. She shook violently. “No! Cakes are for Master. Dogs only eat kibble.” Melissa’s sickly-sweet voice came behind me: “Nikki prefers being a dog.” My pregnant stepmother wore the Dragon Seal – our family’s power symbol that Mom split between Nikki and me. Smugly patting her belly, Melissa said, “It’s a boy. Both seal halves will be mine.” I smiled darkly. She didn’t know Dad married into our family’s power… and became sterile after Nikki’s birth accident. 1 The cherished youngest daughter of the Shen family, now chained up in the yard like an animal. The sight of the iron collar around Nikki’s neck sent a blade of agony through my heart. No wonder I hadn’t heard from her in the three years I’d been abroad. Every time I asked my father, he’d brush me off, saying she was buried in her studies. Her bedroom had been taken over. The villa’s decor was completely changed, erasing every last trace of my mother’s presence. I pulled Nikki from the kennel, trying to brush the dust from her clothes. The dress she wore was one I’d given her three years ago. Now it was little more than tattered rags, barely covering her. I took off my own coat and wrapped it around her frail shoulders. “Melissa,” I said, my voice dangerously low. “How dare you treat a daughter of this family this way. You’ve got a death wish.” “Is that any way to talk to your mother!” My father, Mark, appeared behind Melissa, flanked by a group of men I didn’t recognize. Their eyes raked over me with open hostility. “My mother is dead,” I snapped. “This woman is nothing.” “Sarah! Melissa is my wife, which makes her your mother and the lady of this house! You will apologize to her this instant, or you are no longer my daughter!” “A gold-digging maid from the countryside who slept her way into this family is not my mother. And you, Mark, have you forgotten whose name is on the deed to this house?” My mother was the 75th heir of the Dragon Syndicate, a titan who straddled the worlds of legitimate business and the underworld. She commanded the Dragon Seal, giving her authority over eight thousand branches across the continent. A woman of immense power, who had somehow fallen for a man from nothing like my father. She had threatened to end her own life just to get her family to agree to let him marry in. Nikki and I were our mother’s daughters. We both carried her blood. Before she died, she split her Dragon Seal in two, giving each of us a half and warning us never to use its power unless it was a matter of life and death. Then, a sudden illness took her from us. My father claimed a young Nikki couldn’t be without a mother figure and brought Melissa, his supposed childhood sweetheart, into our home. “When I agreed to let her in this house, it was as a maid,” I seethed. “Not as its mistress!” Mark’s hand flew, slapping me hard across the face. “I’m the man of this house now! If you don’t like it, you can get out!” I cupped my stinging cheek. “Don’t you forget, you’re living in a villa my mother bought before you ever entered the picture. This is our property. If anyone’s getting out, it’s you and her!” “You ungrateful little—” He raised his hand again, but Melissa stopped him, a picture of false sincerity. “That’s enough, dear. She’s just a child, she doesn’t know any better. I won’t hold it against her.” She turned to me, her voice dripping with fake concern. “Sarah, darling, it’s not what you think. I haven’t been cruel to your sister. She’s the one who hates studying. She said she’d rather live like a dog.” “I tried to stop her from moving into the kennel, of course. She threw terrible tantrums. When I refused, she went on a hunger strike. I was at my wit’s end, so I finally gave in. If you don’t believe me, ask your father. Or ask Nikki herself.” Mark snorted. “Nikki’s a lost cause. She’d rather be a dog than go to school. A child that pathetic isn’t worthy of being my daughter.” Nikki tugged on my sleeve, her voice a rough whisper. “It’s true, Sarah. I don’t like school. I like being a dog. I like the kennel.” She let out two sharp barks. “Woof, woof.” “You are not a dog! You’re a person!” I cried, my heart breaking. I scanned the grounds and realized with a jolt that none of the old staff were here. The butler, the maids, the bodyguards—all replaced by these hostile strangers staring at me. “I don’t care what happened before,” I declared, my voice ringing with authority. “But I’m back now. And my sister will not be treated like an animal in her own home!” Melissa’s smile was a venomous mask. “Of course, Sarah. From now on, you can be the one to discipline her. Clearly, we can’t.” She picked up a tennis ball from the ground and tossed it across the lawn. Instantly, Nikki dropped to all fours and scrambled after it. She clamped the ball in her teeth and trotted back, dropping it into Melissa’s outstretched hand. Melissa threw it again. As Nikki started to chase it, I grabbed her, pulling her upright. “Nikki! You are a person, not a dog! You walk on two legs and hold things with your hands! Promise me, please, promise me you’ll stop this.” She just shook her head, tears streaming down her face. “No, I’m a dog. I like being a dog.” Melissa laughed, a loud, ugly sound, dangling the ball. “Want to play some more?” Nikki’s tongue lolled out, and she panted excitedly. “Yes! Yes!” “Enough!” I roared, turning on Mark. “Mom begged you on her deathbed to take care of Nikki! This is how you do it?” He shrugged, completely indifferent. “If she wants to throw her life away, there’s nothing I can do.” “The key,” I demanded. “Unlock the chain around her neck.” No one moved. I glared at the staff. “Are you all deaf?” “Get the key,” Melissa finally said, and only then did one of the men move. So, they answered to her, not to me. The moment the chain was removed, a wave of panic washed over Nikki. She ducked her head, trying to crawl back into the kennel. “I don’t want to be in the house! I’m a dog! I have to stay in my kennel!” I swept her into my arms. “Shh, Nikki, it’s okay. I’m going to take you to a doctor.” There was no time to clean her up. I drove her straight to the hospital. The examination revealed a horror story. It wasn’t just severe psychological trauma; her body was a roadmap of abuse. Clusters of scars and bruises covered her chest and back, conveniently hidden by her clothes. The doctor told me she had been whipped and beaten with rods. There were large patches of burn scars from scalding water. She had multiple healed rib fractures. There was even damage to her skull. Listening to the doctor’s clinical description, I couldn’t stop the tears from falling. These people weren’t human. They were monsters. I held Nikki tight. “Don’t be afraid, Nikki. I’m here now. I’ll protect you. No one will ever hurt you again.” When we returned to the villa, Melissa was waiting for us, cradling her pregnant belly. “Sarah, dear. Your half of the Dragon Seal. It’s on you, isn’t it?” My luggage was in the living room, torn open and its contents strewn everywhere. “Who gave you permission to go through my things?” “Sarah,” Mark said, his tone impatient. “Just give your mother the seal. The baby she’s carrying is your brother. From now on, all of our family’s assets will be his to inherit.” I laughed, a cold, sharp sound. “The Dragon Syndicate values bloodline above all else. Only those of my mother’s line can lead it to prosperity. You really think the bastard in her stomach is worthy of even being considered as the heir?” Mark’s face turned a sickly green. “How dare you! That’s your brother, not some bastard!” “She knows the truth,” I said, looking directly at Melissa. She buried her face in Mark’s chest, sobbing theatrically. “I’ve only ever been with your father. How could you say something so vile about me?” “Apologize to your mother!” Mark roared. I ignored his tantrum, pulling Nikki with me towards my old room. He kept shouting at my back. “Your mother spent all day getting your room ready! She even bought your favorite fruits! Is this how you repay her kindness?” I slammed the door in his face, locking it. I could hear him yelling for his thugs to break it down, but Melissa’s saccharine voice eventually calmed him. After giving Nikki a bath and changing her into fresh clothes, I watched her fall into an exhausted sleep before finally lying down myself. Tomorrow, my own people would arrive. And then, we would settle this. I drifted into a restless sleep around midnight. When I opened my eyes again, the space beside me was empty. Nikki was gone. Adrenaline shot through me. I leaped out of bed and ran out of the room. I found her in the dining room. She was on her knees, serving breakfast to Melissa’s nephew, Gary. Gary saw me and sneered. “My aunt said Nikki is going to be my wife. She was born to serve me.” He looked down at my sister. “Good dog. You did a good job today. Here’s a treat.” He spat a half-chewed piece of bread onto the floor. Nikki immediately bent down and licked it up. Gary roared with laughter. “You’ll even eat my leftovers! You really are a dog!” He then climbed onto her back like a horse. “Giddy-up! If you run fast, I’ll give you another treat!” And so, my sister crawled around the room on all fours, with that vile boy riding her. “Faster! Are you trying to starve? If you don’t speed up, you won’t even get kibble later!” Nikki tried to crawl faster. Gary pulled a few pieces of dog food from his pocket and threw them on the floor ahead of her. She scrambled to eat them. “Stupid mutt! All you care about is food!” I couldn’t take it anymore. I launched myself forward and kicked Gary clean off my sister’s back. He hit the floor with a heavy thud and scrambled up, screaming at me. “You bitch! You hit me!” He yelled for the guards. “Get her! Tie her up!” “Who dares!” I roared, pulling Nikki into my arms and shielding her. “Gary, if you get on your knees and apologize to my sister right now, I might consider letting you live. Otherwise, don’t say I didn’t give you a chance.” “Oh, listen to you!” he scoffed. “You think this is still your mother’s house? This family is run by Mark now! The Dragon Syndicate belongs to Mark! My uncle is in charge! Who the hell are you to yell at me?” He gestured to the guards. “Grab her!” The bodyguards surged forward, seizing me and Nikki. Melissa rushed over, playing the peacemaker. “Sarah, please. I’ve spoiled my nephew rotten, I know. He doesn’t mean any harm. He’s just playing with Nikki.” She gave me a sly look. “Tell you what. You give me your half of the seal, and I’ll make him apologize to you both.” “You want the seal? In your dreams!” Melissa’s face contorted with rage. The mask was gone. “You ungrateful bitch! Fine! Search her! The seal has to be on her!” “So, the act is finally over,” I said with a sneer. “Watching you pretend to be nice was making me sick.” “Hmph. You little tramp. If you were as obedient as your sister, I might have let you stay on as one of my pets. But you’re too wild. I can’t train you. I guess I’ll just have to have you sent away to be taught a lesson.” “You wouldn’t dare.” “Once I have the complete seal, the entire Dragon Syndicate will be mine. What wouldn’t I dare?” “Ma’am, I found it!” a guard announced. He handed my half of the seal to Melissa. Her eyes gleamed with triumph. She took her own half from around her neck and clicked the two pieces together. “Perfect! The Dragon Syndicate is finally mine! An empire that spans a continent, endless wealth… it’s all mine!”

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My ex-husband cheated. He didn’t just cheat; he had a child with the other woman. So I did the only thing I could. I was living a thousand miles from my family, all for him. When I found out, I took the house in the divorce, packed a bag for myself and my daughter, and drove right back to my parents’ place without a second glance. Ten years have passed. Now, with my daughter, Anna, accepted into Harvard, it’s time to sell that house and fund her future. To my shock, the house that should have been gathering dust was occupied by a family of strangers—who even produced a property deed. 1 The apartment building stood just as I remembered it, a monument to a life I’d left behind. A wave of nausea washed over me. I had poured my heart into a love that ended in betrayal. When Anna was eight, I discovered Kevin’s affair. The other woman was already three months pregnant. She hounded him, day and night, to divorce me. To get me to sign the papers, he offered me our only asset: the apartment, free and clear. I took the deal, the keys, and the deed, and never set foot in that city again. Ten years. It was time to finally close that chapter. I took a deep breath, pushing back the sour memories. My plan was simple: check on the place, then call a realtor. But as I stood before my old front door, apartment 1901, a knot of dread tightened in my stomach. A door untouched for a decade should be coated in a thick layer of dust, the metal tarnished. This door was clean. And hanging on it was a bright, festive wreath. My heart hammered against my ribs. Could Kevin, that piece of trash, have put it there? Unlikely. When we divorced, he couldn’t wait to be rid of me. The idea of him stopping by to hang a cheerful decoration was laughable. Whatever. I’d figure it out once I was inside. I pulled out my old key and slid it into the lock. It turned a fraction of an inch and then stopped, jamming tight. I jiggled it, pushed, and pulled, but the lock wouldn’t budge. What the hell? Could a lock seize up after ten years of disuse? It seemed impossible. After several more failed attempts, I was about to search for a local locksmith when the elevator doors hissed open. A young couple pushing a stroller emerged. I paid them no mind, assuming they were neighbors. Then the woman’s voice, sharp and accusatory, sliced through the quiet hallway. “Who are you? What are you doing at my door?” 2 I frowned, my head tilting. Her door? I glanced up at the brass numbers: 1901. This was my apartment. There was no mistake. Before I could answer, the man stomped toward me, his face a mask of aggression. “Spit it out. What are you doing, creeping around our place? Trying to break in?” I shot him a withering look. “I live here,” I said, my voice cold. “What would I need to steal?” He scoffed, turning to the woman with a smirk. “Don’t worry, honey. Just some crazy lady who thinks she can just claim an apartment.” That did it. My patience evaporated. He saw I wasn’t moving and grabbed my arm, his fingers digging into my bicep. “Get the hell out of here. You pull this crap again, and you’ll regret it.” His foul language ignited a fire in me. “You don’t ask a single question, just start spewing garbage? Didn’t anyone ever teach you any manners?” He puffed out his chest, ready to escalate, but the woman, at least, had a shred of composure. “Then explain yourself,” she said, her arms crossed. “Why are you at our front door?” I took a steadying breath, trying to be the reasonable one. “This is my home. I’ve been living out of state for the last ten years and only just got back into town to…” The woman shrieked, cutting me off. “What are you talking about? We’ve lived here for six years! We have the deed. Look, you haven’t been here in a decade. You must have the wrong address.” For a second, a sliver of doubt crept in. I walked back to the elevator and looked at the building directory. Tower 1, Unit B, 19th Floor. This was it. I returned to the door. “No, this is the right place. And I have a deed, too.” Their patience was clearly gone. The man—I’d later learn his name was Leo—shoved his own key into the lock. It turned with a smooth, effortless click, and the door swung open. 3 The inside of the apartment was a disaster. My meticulously chosen wallpaper, a soft cream with a subtle texture, was scarred with scuffs, stains, and what looked like crayon marks. The floor tiles were scratched and chipped, some cracked straight through. My two-thousand-dollar Italian leather sofa was a Jackson Pollock of mysterious, grimy spots. Nothing looked like the home I had so carefully created. The woman, Cindy, rushed into a bedroom and returned moments later, thrusting a document in my face. “See? A real, official property deed. Tower 1, Unit B, 1901. Owners: Leo and Cindy Miller.” My mind went blank. I fumbled in my purse and pulled out my own folder. I opened my deed, right there in front of her. Her smug expression melted into confusion. Because my document also read: Tower 1, Unit B, 1901. Owner: Sarah Jenkins. Leo snatched my deed from my hands, flipping it over and over before tossing it onto the floor. “Get out of here with that fake crap! You think you can just scam your way into an apartment? This isn’t a free-for-all, lady. It’s a million-dollar property.” Cindy chimed in with a mocking laugh. “Seriously, lady. Some people rent their whole lives and do just fine. Did you really think you could just waltz in here and steal someone’s home? We’re not idiots.” She was right about one thing. It was a million-dollar property. And there was no way in hell I was going to let someone else live in it for free. My eyes scanned the room. The layout was the same, just… desecrated. I had overseen every detail of the renovation myself. Kevin had never shown up once. Suddenly, memories of the design flooded back to me. I began to speak, my voice steady and clear. “The master bedroom closet doors are white with a hidden grain pattern. The dresser against the wall has six drawers, and the handles are shaped like little pigs.” I looked straight at them. “The handle on the second bedroom door is Peppa Pig. The master is Mommy Pig.” “The wallpaper in the master bedroom is an underwater ocean scene. The second bedroom is a starry night sky…” Before I could finish, their jaws had dropped. Cindy pointed a trembling finger at me. “You… have you been in our apartment before? While we were out? How else could you know all that?” A bitter laugh escaped my lips. “I told you, this is my house. I designed it. I remember every single detail because I poured my soul into it.” They exchanged a nervous glance. Then, Leo grabbed his phone. “Brenda? You need to get over here. Now. We’ve got a real situation.” They didn’t offer me a seat, just left me standing awkwardly by the door. This was my home. I had lived here. Acting on instinct, I opened the shoe cabinet by the entrance. A wave of stench—stale sweat and old leather—hit me. Holding my breath, I reached up to the topmost shelf, my fingers searching the back corner. And there it was. A small, cool piece of metal. A spare key. It was an old habit of mine, always keeping a spare in the shoe cabinet. I never knew why, I just did it. And now, holding it in my hand, every last shred of doubt vanished. This was my house. 4 Soon, a heavy-set, middle-aged woman arrived, dragging a boy of about ten by the hand. He was drooling, a vacant look in his eyes. A strange sense of familiarity washed over me as I looked at the boy, but I couldn’t place it. As soon as Cindy saw the woman, she pointed at me. “Brenda, look! It’s this woman! She’s insisting this house is hers, and she even has a fake deed that looks just like ours!” Without a word, the woman, Brenda, marched right up to me and slapped me, hard, across the face. “Who the hell do you think you are? I’ve heard of people stealing wallets, but stealing a whole damn house? You’ve got some nerve.” The sting radiated across my cheek, stunning me into a moment of silence. I had lived half my life and never once been struck by another person. Who did this stranger think she was? Rage, pure and hot, surged through me. I didn’t hesitate. I slapped her right back, the crack echoing in the small entryway. Then, for good measure, I slapped her again. Her arrogant fury dissolved into shocked silence. She stared at me, a hand flying to her cheek, her eyes wide with a newfound caution. “Who are you? Why are you doing this?” “I’m the owner of this apartment,” I said, my voice dangerously calm. “I was gone for ten years, and it looks like you people saw an empty home and decided to squat. Did you really think I’d never come back?” She planted her hands on her hips. “Don’t you dare! We have a legitimate deed to this property. If you’re so sure, let’s take both our deeds down to the county records office and see who’s telling the truth!” I had a better idea. “There’s no need for that.” I pulled out my phone. “I’ll just call property management. I’ve been paying the HOA fees on this place every year, after all.” Brenda let out a derisive laugh. “You really won’t quit until you’re humiliated, will you? My husband pays those fees every year. Just wait. The manager’s going to come up here and laugh you out of the building.” A few minutes later, the property manager arrived. It was a young guy I didn’t recognize, not the manager from my time. Leo immediately slipped a cigarette into the man’s hand. “Hey, Rick. Sorry to bother you, but we’ve got a crazy lady up here claiming our apartment is hers. Can you believe the nerve?” Rick, the manager, seemed to be good friends with Leo, chuckling along with him. My blood began to boil. I was paying thousands of dollars a year for this? For a manager who didn’t even know who the actual homeowners were? 5 I looked at him. “Is Mr. Peterson still around? John Peterson?” He shook his head. “Don’t know him. I’m the manager now.” Fair enough. A decade was a long time. “Fine,” I said. “Then can you please look up the registered owner of this unit?” He gestured for us to follow him. “We’ll have to go down to the office. It’s all on the computer.” I started walking immediately. The others trailed behind me, grumbling. Leo was still complaining to Rick. “I’m telling you, man, the crazies are out in full force these days. Who tries to steal a whole apartment?” Down in the management office, I finally saw a familiar face. “Maria?” I said, a wave of relief washing over me. “Do you remember me? Unit 1901. I transfer you the HOA fees every year.” She peered at me, her brow furrowed in concentration. Then, her face broke into a wide smile. “Oh my goodness, Sarah! I barely recognized you! You look even better than you did ten years ago!” Finally. Someone who could vouch for me. The others exchanged uneasy glances. Rick, the new manager, looked confused. “Maria, you know her? She’s really the owner of 1901?” Maria beamed. “Of course, I do! The Jenkins were one of the first families to move into this building. I know them well. Here, look, I have her in my contacts. She sends me the payment every year like clockwork. I’ve got the records.” She started scrolling through her phone, trying to find my name among what was likely hundreds of contacts. The others started to snicker. “I think you’re mistaken, Maria,” Leo said. “My brother-in-law has been paying the fees. Not her.” Seeing her struggle, I opened my own phone, typed “Maria – HOA” into my search bar, and sent her a quick waving emoji. Her phone buzzed. “Ah, there you are!” she said, looking at me with an apologetic smile. “So many people, it’s hard to keep track.” 6 She turned her phone screen to show Rick the chat history. “See? Every January, on the dot. For the last ten years, she’s never missed a payment.” Rick’s jaw went slack. “You’re right. It’s all here.” The group behind me fell silent. Brenda was the first to break, her voice shrill with panic. “That’s impossible! My husband told me he paid the fees every single year! It has to be him!” I asked Maria to pull up the official ownership record on her computer. She typed for a moment, then turned the monitor towards us. “Here you go. Have a look for yourselves.” I didn’t need to look. But the three of them—Leo, Cindy, and Brenda—crowded around the screen. Their faces paled, one after another. Cindy was the first to snap. “No! This has to be a mistake! I have a deed! A government-issued document! Your system is wrong! It has to be!” Leo became frantic, raising his hand as if to smash the monitor. Rick grabbed his arm just in time. “Hey, calm down! Our system is directly linked to the county records. It doesn’t make mistakes. Maybe you should take a closer look at that deed of yours.” At that, both Leo and Cindy turned their furious gazes on Brenda. “Brenda, what the hell is going on?” Leo demanded. “You’re the one who gave us this apartment. You gave us the deed!” Brenda was sweating now, fumbling for her phone. “Honey? You need to get to Leo’s place. Right now. Hurry.” After hanging up, she shot a defiant glare at me and Maria. “Just you wait. When my husband gets here, he’ll set you both straight. We’ll see who’s laughing then.” My husband? I wasn’t afraid of him. What could he possibly do? Say that black was white? But half an hour later, when her “husband” finally arrived, all I could do was laugh. A bitter, ironic laugh.

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My mother was dying. I begged my fiancé, Ryan, to advance part of our wedding fund for her surgery. He turned around and got engaged to Serena. In my deepest despair, my childhood friend, Richard Blackwood, knelt before me in the hospital, proposed, and handed me a check for a million dollars. I accepted without hesitation, rushing to schedule my mother’s operation. But in the end, she never made it off the operating table. Drowned in grief, I let Richard handle all the funeral arrangements. Our wedding went on as planned. Five years later, I overheard a conversation that shattered my world. “Richard, you never thought about what would happen if Brittney found out? That you sacrificed her mother just to save Serena’s? You were willing to risk everything for her?” “If I have to pay, I’ll pay. For her, I’d do anything. It was just one life. I’ve given Brittney the rest of mine to repay the debt. That should be enough.” Tears fell, hot and uncontrollable. I finally understood. The marriage I had so carefully nurtured was a lie from the very beginning. His heart had only ever belonged to Serena. Fine. If that’s what he wanted, I would get out of their way. 1 Through the thin wall of his study, I heard Richard’s voice, thick with a sorrow that was not for me. “Since she didn’t choose me,” he said, “saving her mother was the only thing I could do for her, to ensure she had no regrets. As for Brittney… I’m giving her my entire life as compensation. That has to be enough.” His best friend, Mark, sounded uneasy. “It’s a shame Serena still has no idea what you did for her. That was a life, Richard! If anyone finds out, you’ll spend the rest of yours in prison. Is a woman who doesn’t even love you worth all that?” “My heart decides if it’s worth it. As long as she’s happy, I’d do anything. Forget Brittney’s mother—I’d give her my own organs without blinking.” His voice hardened. “Don’t bring this up again. It’s in the past. All that matters is that she’s happy now.” “And Brittney? I think she’s really fallen in love with you. What happens if she finds out you murdered her mom?” A moment of silence, then the soft click of a lighter. Through the haze of smoke, Richard’s voice was laced with self-mockery. “Then I’ll pay with my life. The money I’ve made these past few years… it’s enough for her to live on forever.” “Man… I don’t get you,” Mark sighed. “Brittney’s a good woman. Why are you still so hung up on… never mind. It’s your life. If this is what you want.” The sound of footsteps approaching sent me scrambling back to my room. The hot tea I was holding spilled onto my hand, but all I felt was a profound, bone-deep cold. My mother hadn’t died in a life-saving surgery. She had died in a conspiracy he orchestrated for Serena. When Ryan had broken off our engagement, leaving me a laughingstock, Richard’s proposal wasn’t meant to give me happiness. It was meant to deliver the final, killing blow. Our entire marriage had been his guilt-ridden compensation. And I had proudly paraded his pity around like a trophy, thinking it was love. How utterly absurd. The front door clicked shut. Mark was gone. A moment later, Richard stumbled into our bedroom, reeking of alcohol. He cupped my face, his drunken eyes filled with a tenderness that now felt like poison as he planted a soft kiss on my forehead. “Why were you standing by the door?” “It’s nothing,” I lied smoothly. “I just spilled some tea and was about to clean it up.” “Leave it for the housekeeper. You’re not well, you should be resting. It breaks my heart to see you tired.” He leaned in and kissed me again, his touch as gentle and loving as it had always been. But this time, I felt no warmth. To think a person could go to such lengths for someone else. I closed my eyes, and a single tear escaped, tracing a cold path down my cheek. I helped him into bed and pulled the covers over him. He was asleep in moments. Sitting beside him, I picked up his phone. I only had to try one password. Serena’s birthday. I navigated to his files, pulling up the business contracts he’d signed over the past five years. Without exception, every major deal was a partnership with Ryan’s company. I’d never set foot in Richard’s office, but I didn’t need to be a businesswoman to see the profits he’d sacrificed just to work with her. The company’s brand ambassador was Serena’s favorite celebrity. The real estate projects were in neighborhoods Serena loved. Even the final payment amounts on the invoices were coded with numbers significant to her: her birthday, her wedding anniversary, the date she and Richard first met. My hand trembled as I opened his private photo album. It was filled with picture after picture of Serena smiling. Serena at charity galas as Ryan’s wife. Serena celebrating a successful project with Ryan. In every photo, Ryan’s face was neatly cropped out, leaving only her. A thousand photos, a perfect chronicle of her life over the last five years. Beyond that, there were records of countless jewelry purchases from high-end auctions. He’d had them all sent to Serena, officially billed as corporate gifts to a valued partner. His hidden love was a roaring, secret flame, tucked into every corner of his life. The details burned, leaving a sour ache in my chest. I recognized some of the jewelry brands. He had given me pieces from them, too—the cheap complimentary trinkets the auction houses threw in with major purchases—and told me they were special gifts he’d picked out just for me. A bitter laugh escaped my lips. I couldn’t look anymore. Instead, I booked a one-way ticket to a foreign country, departing in three days. Then I filed an application to have all of my official identification documents canceled and reissued under a new name. Three days. It was more than enough time to erase five years of lies. I didn’t sleep at all. The next morning, as I was getting ready, my phone buzzed with an official notification. Moments later, Richard’s voice called out from the bedroom. “Brittney? What’s this about canceling your documents?” I quickly walked back in and took the phone, my voice even. “It’s nothing. My driver’s license expired, so I scheduled an appointment to get it renewed.” I changed the subject. “Don’t you have a big meeting today? You should get going.” He didn’t question it. He just pulled me into his arms, his lips brushing against my ear. “Thank you, my love. Marrying such a thoughtful wife is the best thing that ever happened to me.” I smiled but said nothing. “As a reward, how about I get you a huge present today?” “Okay,” I said. “I’ll be waiting at home.” The moment Richard left, his assistant delivered a gourmet breakfast from my favorite hotel. For five years, he had done this every single day. I used to think it was a symbol of his love. Now I saw it for what it was: a convenient, thoughtless gesture. If he really loved me, wouldn’t he have learned to cook a single one of my favorite dishes in five years? He had put so much effort into keeping me placated, keeping me away from Serena. I dumped the breakfast into the trash and walked out the door. It was time to end this five-year charade. The government office wasn’t busy. I filled out my final forms and then went to a lawyer’s office. A divorce agreement where one party leaves with nothing was a standard template. I had two copies in my hand within the hour. I took the papers to Richard’s company. As I walked in, I could hear the employees whispering. “Is that Mrs. Blackwood? She’s stunning! No wonder the boss keeps her hidden away like a treasure.” “That’s definitely her! I personally delivered that necklace she’s wearing last week! I heard it went for five million at auction! I could work since the Stone Age and never afford that. I’m so jealous!” “I heard they were childhood sweethearts, and she was his first love! He built an empire and still only has eyes for one woman. It’s like a real-life fairy tale, isn’t it?” I reached the top floor and stood outside his office. I could hear a familiar voice from within. “Is he treating you well?” It was Richard. “Yes, he’s wonderful,” Serena replied. “He just bought me a small island a few days ago, said he wanted to give me a proper honeymoon. Honestly, married for five years and he’s still such a romantic…” Richard’s voice was heavy with a pained, suppressed longing. “That’s good. As long as you’re happy, I can rest easy.” “You too,” Serena said, her tone shifting. “Why did you send such an expensive gift again? Brittney will be upset if she finds out.” That was Serena’s way. Take everything she could get, then turn around and mock me with feigned concern. She was the one who had rushed to the hospital after Ryan broke our engagement, gleefully announcing the news at my mother’s bedside. The shock sent my mother into a seizure, and she was rushed into surgery that very night. When I confronted Serena, both Ryan and Richard had shown up, and both of them had sided with her, scolding me for being unreasonable. That was the day I cut ties with Ryan and Serena for good. And Richard became my only savior. Now I knew he was the one who had pushed me into the abyss. His secretary, in a hurry to deliver some contracts, rushed toward the door and threw it open before I could move. Richard’s eyes widened in surprise. “Brittney? What are you doing here? Don’t get the wrong idea, Serena just stopped by to chat… and to discuss the new project collaboration. She’s the lead on it for her company…” “Brittney, long time no see,” Serena said, rising from her chair. She was dressed in the latest haute couture, making me feel like a frumpy country mouse. I forced a smile, swallowing my bitterness. “It’s nothing. I was just shopping nearby and thought I’d stop by. Since you’re busy, I’ll head home.” Richard, thinking I was angry, chased after me, tripping over his words to explain. Seeing him so flustered for my sake, I almost wanted to laugh. He had deliberately taken a loss on the deal with Ryan’s company just for a chance to be near Serena. Now that she was here, who was this performance for? “Don’t worry,” I said, my voice gentle. “I’m not that unreasonable. You focus on your work. I’ll be a good girl and wait for you at home.” He let out a visible sigh of relief and had his secretary escort me downstairs. The moment I stepped out of the elevator, the employees’ gazes turned sharp with ridicule. They pointed and whispered, just loud enough for me to hear. I ignored them and left. After we married, he told me he didn’t want me to tire myself out with work, that he wanted me to live a life free of worries. I believed him, and I became a housewife, tethered to our home. Meanwhile, Serena, my former classmate, had become a project director at a major corporation. The gap between us was now a chasm—in perspective, in ability. I could no longer compete with her. This is what you wanted, isn’t it, Richard? Your precious Serena is safe from me now. I am no longer a threat. Back home, I gathered everything he had given me over the past five years into a large box. I took it outside and set it on fire. Just as the flames began to lick at the contents, Serena appeared out of nowhere. She kicked the box over. Burning photographs scattered across the pavement, some embers landing on her clothes, but she just smiled. “Brittney, after all these years, you’re still just as pathetic.” “You couldn’t protect your own mother then, and you can’t protect yourself now. You’re a joke!” She knew? She knew about the surgery? A white-hot rage flared inside me. I slapped her across the face. I didn’t use much force, but she stumbled backward dramatically, falling right into the fire. I froze, stunned. Before I could react, a figure shot past me, shoving me hard to the ground. Richard scooped Serena into his arms, his eyes blazing with a fury I had never seen before. “Brittney! What are you doing? Are you insane?” he roared. “Serena came here out of the goodness of her heart to see you, to clear up the misunderstandings from the past, and you attack her?” His face was a mask of rage. All traces of love were gone. I smirked. “She mentioned my mother, Richard.” I met his furious gaze. “Speaking of past misunderstandings, don’t you two owe me an explanation?” His brow furrowed, and a flicker of panic crossed his eyes. “What explanation? Your mother was critically ill, the surgery failed. You know this.” He shook his head, his voice hardening again. “Whatever happened back then is no excuse for you to hurt Serena! Apologize to her. Now!” Before I could speak, Serena wrapped her arms around his neck. “Don’t… don’t be hard on Brittney,” she whimpered. “It was our fault for what happened with Ryan. Just let this be my way of making it up to her…” She looked at me with tear-filled eyes. “Since she hates me so much, maybe we shouldn’t see each other anymore. I don’t want to make things difficult for you.” My nails dug into my palms, drawing blood. Watching them walk away, clinging to each other, I knew. We were finished. I calmly picked up the scattered contents of the box and threw them back into the flames. Five years of love turned to ash. An hour later, a text from Richard arrived. “Serena is the project lead, after all. Hurting her is bad for business. Making you apologize was just a tactic, a show for her. Don’t overthink it.” “I’ll make it up to you tonight when I get home, okay? I told you I have a gift for you. Don’t be sad.” But I knew the show wasn’t for Serena. It was for me. He had been acting out this deep love for five years. Now, it was time for the curtain to fall. I waited at home with the divorce papers until after midnight. He never came. Instead, news broke online: The CEO of Blackwood Enterprises had caused a scene at the hospital, all for a woman. Serena had a few minor burns, but he had summoned the entire hospital’s team of specialists to treat her, sparing no expense and reportedly spending over a million dollars. In the photos, he held her protectively in his arms. The look in his eyes was a mixture of tenderness and passion I had never seen directed at me. The hospital was lit up all night, all for one woman’s minor scrapes. The next morning, I called him. He answered but was busy giving instructions to his secretary. “Mr. Blackwood, are you sure you want to amend the contract?” the secretary asked, aghast. “Our company will lose over a hundred million on this project!” “Please, reconsider, sir!” “No need,” Richard said firmly. “Just do it. It’s the compensation I promised her. Also, draw up another contract. Transfer half of my shares in the company to Serena.” The secretary left, and only then did Richard seem to remember he was on the phone. “Brittney? Sorry to keep you waiting. I’m on my way home now. Did you need something?” I looked down at the angry red burn on my hand from the day before. “No, it’s nothing. Go on, I won’t disturb you.” “Okay. You be good and wait for me. I’ll be right there.” I didn’t wait. I signed my name on the divorce papers, packed a small suitcase, and left the house for the last time. I went to the hospital where my mother had died and requested the records for her organ transplant agreement. At the bottom of the page, where the signature should have been mine, was a masterful forgery of my handwriting, signed by Richard. I made a copy of the agreement and mailed it to his office. By my calculations, he would receive it just as my plane was taking off. I was gone for a day and a night. He never came home. Just as I was boarding the plane, a message from him finally came through. “Brittney, I had the assistant deliver your gift. Why aren’t you opening the door?” “Are you still mad at me?” “Don’t be difficult. Be a good girl. I’m on my way home now.” Another lie. Thirty minutes earlier, a social media influencer had posted a live video of him shopping with Serena, gushing about the chance encounter. As I boarded, the video was still streaming. He was busy helping Serena pick out a dress for the press conference that would announce her as a major shareholder. I didn’t reply. I received a text confirming my old identity had been successfully voided. I deleted his number and all our conversations. In the live video, his secretary suddenly rushed into the boutique, holding a document, his face pale with panic. “Mr. Blackwood, it’s bad! Your wife… she knows about the surgery from five years ago! I can’t reach her!” Richard looked at him, confused. “What surgery? What are you talking about?” The secretary, frantic, held up the forged agreement I had mailed. “This! Your wife sent this to the office! This is the consent form you signed for her on the day of the surgery! She knows!” He was almost shouting. “I tried calling her the moment the package arrived, but her number is disconnected! I think something’s happened to her!”

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The wedding of the century was supposed to be my masterpiece. Instead, it was my undoing. All because my husband chose to protect his intern over me, deliberately concealing a critical change from our biggest client. After I finished my presentation, the truth crashed down on me. The client, a titan of industry, accused me of unprofessionalism. In that single, humiliating moment, I saw my husband, Steven, for who he truly was. If he was willing to gamble our company’s reputation to boost his new favorite, then I was done fighting for him. “You trust her so much?” I told him, my voice dangerously calm. “Then I wish you both the best of luck with the project.” My best friend was furious on my behalf. I’d poured six months of my life into this plan. But Steven, smugly holding my proposal, thought he had the world in his hands. He had no idea. The most crucial elements for this wedding—the rare flowers, the exclusive artisans, the bespoke decor—were things only I could secure. This time, even if he got on his knees and begged, I wouldn’t lift a finger to save him. … Our event planning studio had landed the contract of a lifetime: orchestrating the wedding for the children of two of New York’s most powerful families. Success meant we’d be catapulted to the top of the industry. I’d spent half a year meticulously preparing for this moment. I walked into the conference room, portfolio in hand, radiating confidence. I was ready to dazzle them. But as I began my presentation, a murmur rippled through the room. Mr. Sterling, the groom’s father, slammed my design portfolio onto the polished floor. “Ms. Thompson, you gave us your solemn promise that you would deliver perfection. And yet you weren’t even aware we changed the venue? You have a stunning lack of professional integrity. We want a new planner.” His accusation left me frozen. “Changed the venue? When was this decided?” I asked, my mind reeling. Before I could say more, my husband, Steven, lunged forward, his fingers digging into my arm as he yanked me aside. “Mr. Sterling, my sincerest apologies,” he said, plastering on a placating smile. “We actually have an alternative proposal ready. Why don’t you hear it? If you’re not completely satisfied, we’ll cover all associated costs.” Standing beside him was the intern, Maggie Hill. She shot me a fleeting, triumphant glance before striding confidently to the front of the room. As she spoke, a cold dread washed over me. Her plan… it was a ghost of my own, a 70% echo of the work I had poured my soul into. When she finished, a satisfied smile finally spread across Mr. Sterling’s face. He looked pointedly at me. “See? The younger generation gets it. They’re hungry. Not like some veterans who get complacent before they’ve even reached the top.” I opened my mouth to defend myself, but Steven cut me off, nodding in agreement with Mr. Sterling. “You’re absolutely right, sir. I’m afraid it’s my fault. I’ve been too lenient with Julie, given her too much freedom. I never imagined she’d betray my trust and forget something so fundamental. Thank goodness Maggie is so proactive and had a backup plan ready.” Mr. Sterling nodded, impressed. “This Maggie is sharp. I think it’s time you made her a permanent employee.” Listening to them, the pieces clicked into place, forming a picture so ugly I could barely look at it. Steven had deliberately hidden the venue change from me. All for Maggie. He was using this high-profile project, backed by the Sterling name, as a launchpad for her career. I remembered when we first landed the contract. Steven had suggested giving “the new talent” more opportunities. I see now he meant Maggie all along. Maggie beamed at them, a picture of innocence. “Thank you so much, Mr. Sterling. And I owe it all to Steven’s incredible mentorship. I promise you, I will personally oversee every detail of this event. There will be no mistakes.” Only after securing their praise did she feign to notice me, her expression turning to one of deep apology. “Julie, I… I never meant to steal your project. I just wanted to learn so badly, so I kept preparing my own proposals for Steven to review. I had no idea you’d make such a critical error and that mine would be used instead. It was an accident.” Before I could respond, Steven jumped to her defense. “Someone as hardworking, dedicated, and talented as you is an asset any company would fight for. How could we possibly blame you?” His words were like daggers to my heart. I was his wife, the person who was supposed to be his closest confidante. Yet here he was, tearing me down for a complete stranger. Maggie and I came from the same small town. She didn’t meet our company’s hiring criteria, but her earnest plea for a chance softened my heart, and I brought her on. At first, she was diligent and hardworking. Her skills were raw, but I believed in her potential. Things changed a few months ago when I had to travel internationally for this very wedding, sourcing materials. I’d asked Steven to supervise her in my absence. In the beginning, he complained constantly about how clumsy she was, how she nearly sabotaged one of his projects. I’d urged him to be patient, to teach her. Gradually, the complaints stopped. I assumed it was because she was improving. I never imagined it was because their relationship had changed. When I returned, I planned to have Maggie resume her duties as my assistant. But Steven protested. “Come on, I just finished molding this raw talent into something useful, and now you want to take her away? I’d have to start all over with a new assistant. Have a heart, honey.” It felt strange, but I let him convince me. I was a fool. The signs were all there. Now, finally, I understood. If Steven wanted to build her a pedestal, I wouldn’t stand in his way. “Fine,” I said, my voice dangerously calm. “Since you have so much faith in her abilities, then I’m out.” I turned to them both. “I wish you the best of luck.” I walked away without a backward glance. Behind me, I heard Maggie’s anxious whisper. “Steven, I think she’s really angry. I’m just an intern, how can I possibly take over a project this big?” Steven’s voice was firm, unwavering. “She’s the one who lost her focus. You didn’t force her out; she gave up. I’ve seen your work, Maggie. You’re the future of this industry. I know you can do this.” I clenched my fists, forcing myself not to turn around and witness their touching moment of solidarity. That afternoon, Maggie celebrated by buying the whole office bubble tea. My colleagues immediately started singing her praises. “I knew all your hard work would pay off, Maggie!” “Don’t forget us when you’re a senior planner!” Seeing her smug, triumphant expression, I let out a cold, quiet laugh. Did she really think getting the proposal approved was the same as winning? That was just the first step. The real challenge—sourcing the materials—was yet to come. The Sterlings and their in-laws were old money. This wedding wasn’t just a ceremony; it was a statement of their families’ power and prestige. There was a reason I’d spent months flying back and forth across the globe. A moment later, Maggie pushed open my office door without knocking, a plastic cup of bubble tea in her hand. She casually dropped it on my desk. “Here, Julie. I bought you a drink. Hope you like it.” I frowned. I hate overly sweet things, a fact I’d mentioned to her countless times when she was my assistant. She must have forgotten, having spent so much time at Steven’s side. “I appreciate the thought, but I don’t drink bubble tea. You can have it,” I said, waving it away. Just then, the door opened again. It was Steven. Seeing him, Maggie suddenly stumbled, letting the cup of bubble tea slip from her grasp. It splattered all over her, the dark liquid and tapioca pearls staining the floor. She shot a quick glance at Steven, then immediately feigned panic. “Oh, I’m so clumsy! I can’t even do something as simple as giving you a drink, Julie.” She looked at me, saw the smirk playing on my lips, and her eyes widened in alarm. She dropped to her knees and started frantically trying to wipe up the mess with the hem of her own dress. “I’m so sorry, Julie! I’ll get it clean, I promise! I won’t bring drinks into the office again, please don’t be angry!” Steven strode forward, his brow furrowed in anger. He pulled Maggie to her feet. “Julie, is this how you treat our star employee? If it wasn’t for her, we wouldn’t just have a damaged reputation—we’d be facing a massive lawsuit!” I laughed, a sharp, humorless sound. “Who made the ‘mistake’? Who hid the fact that Mr. Sterling changed the venue? And that proposal of hers—who do you think really wrote it? Others might not know, Steven, but you do, don’t you?” He didn’t answer my question. Instead, he took off his own jacket and draped it gently around Maggie’s shoulders. “You’ve been through enough, Maggie. Why don’t you go home for the day?” Watching them, a chill crept through my veins. Once we were alone in the office, his anger finally erupted. “What is wrong with you? Why are you always imagining things? I was swamped with clients, I was exhausted, I just forgot to tell you! It’s that simple!” “And Maggie’s proposal?” I shot back. “I suppose it’s just a coincidence that it sounds exactly like something I would write, after months of you ‘mentoring’ her?” “If you don’t want to work, then just go home!” he snarled. “Go be a housewife. My mother’s been nagging me for a grandchild anyway. You can stay home, clean the house, take care of my parents, and raise the kids. Leave the business to me.” Maggie had deliberately left the door ajar on her way out. She wanted the whole office to hear me get humiliated. Fine. Let’s see who would truly be the laughingstock. I let out a derisive snort. “Steven, just because they call you ‘boss’ doesn’t mean you’re actually in charge. And as for me becoming a housewife? You’re not nearly man enough to make me.” I leaned forward, my voice dropping but carrying clearly through the open door. “And another thing. This company has always promoted based on merit. Seducing the boss might get you ahead for a little while, but it’s not a sustainable career path in this industry.” Steven’s face turned crimson with rage. “What nonsense are you spouting? How dare you slander a talented colleague like that? You’re just threatened by her! You’re afraid she’s going to replace you!” I shrugged. “Well then, I look forward to the day your ‘intensive training’ pays off.” Our argument echoed through the quiet office. I saw my colleagues exchange knowing glances. They understood exactly what I was implying. A brand-new intern with no experience, producing a flawless, high-level proposal in just a few months? Impossible without a lot of hands-on guidance. To celebrate Maggie’s “success” in saving the project, Steven decided to make her promotion official immediately. The company had a tradition of holding a welcome party for every new full-time employee. Maggie put on a show of inviting me, but Steven stopped her. “She loves to work so much, let’s not disturb her,” he announced to the office. “Everyone else, let’s clock out early and go celebrate!” A cheer went up, and moments later, the office was silent and empty. The sudden quiet was deafening. My heart ached. Steven and I had built this company from nothing, just the two of us. Now, he was shutting me out completely. I needed to get out. I called my best friend, and we hit a bar. After venting for an hour, I started to feel a bit more human. She, on the other hand, had her eyes glued to the dancers on stage and, with my blessing, eagerly dove into the crowd. I nursed a drink, feeling bored, and was about to find my own entertainment when I spotted a familiar group in a booth across the room: Steven and the team. Maggie was nestled right beside him, her cheeks flushed as she gazed at him adoringly. Someone tried to make her drink, and Steven smoothly intercepted the glass, downing it for her. It was a scene I knew all too well. He used to do that for me. “As long as I’m here,” he’d once said, “you’ll never have to drink anything you don’t want to.” Maggie saw me first. She immediately got up and rushed over, linking her arm through mine with practiced friendliness, pulling me toward their table. “Julie! You’re here! You should have told us. I bet you and Steven have made up.” She smiled brightly. “Every couple fights. Steven’s so forgiving, I knew he wouldn’t stay mad at you.” Every word was a carefully crafted barb, designed to paint me as the one at fault. She then gave Steven a little push. “Steven, come on. Julie is clearly extending an olive branch. Don’t let me be the villain in your love story. If you two don’t make up, all those nasty rumors about me in the office will just get worse.” Clever. She was publicly addressing the very rumors I’d started, framing herself as the victim. Steven puffed out his chest, playing his part perfectly. “Alright, since you’ve admitted you were wrong, I won’t hold it against you. For the sake of our marriage. But I will not tolerate a senior manager bullying a junior employee.” He fixed me with a stern look. “You’re my wife. You need to set an example. Apologize to Maggie, and I’ll forgive you.” He leaned back against the sofa, legs crossed, a condescending smirk on his face like a king addressing a peasant. Maggie picked up a glass of wine from the table and held it out, looking at me with hopeful eyes.

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After being abducted, I gave birth to eight children. For ten years, I was chained in a pigsty, my mind shattered. Finally, the police found me and brought me back to my biological parents. My father held a large bag of snacks I loved as a child, his eyes red and raw. My mother gently combed through my matted, lice-infested hair, her voice choked with sobs. “It’s our fault, honey. We’re so sorry we lost you.” My younger sister stood beside them, already a mess of tears. Our family of four, finally reunited. But just when I had finally escaped the shadows of the past decade and could live like a normal person again, I did the unthinkable. I fed my sister a massive dose of pesticide. I chopped off my mother’s fingers, one by one, as she was preparing a feast for me. Then, I took the knife to my father’s legs, hacking them until he could no longer stand. As I watched them lying in pools of their own blood, gasping for their last breaths, a sense of relief washed over me. I calmly picked up the phone and called the police. 1. When the police arrived, I was quietly eating the blood-spattered cake on the table. It was the cake my mother had spent all evening baking for me. The cloying sweetness of the cream mixed with the coppery tang of rust in my mouth. After finishing the last bite, I turned and tore up the property transfer documents lying on the table beside me. The deed was in my name. The front door burst open. The first officer through, a young woman, let out a stifled scream and stumbled back. The officers behind her froze, their faces a mask of horror at the scene before them. I turned my head, my expression placid, and looked at the crowd gathering at the doorway. Neighbors craned their necks, their eyes a mixture of fear and morbid curiosity. Two of the officers lunged at me, treating me like a dangerous animal, and slammed me to the floor. The cold tiles and the sharp, sudden pain made me wince, but then a laugh escaped my lips. I had caught sight of the scattered, minced pieces of flesh on the floor. My mother’s fingers. Not far away, my father’s head had rolled into a corner, his eyes wide in a silent, eternal question. I tried to crawl closer to get a better look, but a heavy boot in my side stopped me. “Stay down!” a harsh voice commanded. “A monster like you will get what you deserve from the law.” I coughed, the taste of blood filling my mouth. Judgment? I had been waiting for this moment for a very, very long time. As they escorted me out of the building, the detective who had single-handedly fought off the villagers to rescue me pushed his way to the front of the crowd. His weary eyes, clouded with disbelief, fixed on me. “Did you really kill them? It’s not possible… You’re not that kind of person, Katie.” I smiled, a gentle, almost warm expression. “But I am, Detective Miller. I was born bad. It was all just an act.” Hearing my words, the man who had checked on me regularly since my return recoiled, his expression shifting from disappointment to horror. His face went pale, and he took an involuntary step back, his lips trembling, unable to form words. Seeing his reaction felt like a stone crushing my chest, making it hard to breathe. I forced myself to add, my voice soft, “That’s right. I killed them all—my father, my mother, and my sister. I didn’t spare a single one.” My confession hung in the heavy night air. The crowd erupted. “Her parents were so good to her… I remember how they went crazy looking for her after she was taken,” a middle-aged woman said. “For ten whole years, they cried every day, plastering missing person posters on every street corner. They wasted away to nothing…” “Exactly!” another familiar voice chimed in. “I heard when they found her, she was chained up in a pigsty, had eight kids… Her parents went through hell to bring her back, gave her this life of luxury, and she throws it all away!” “That backwoods husband of hers must have put her up to it.” “If we’d known this would happen, maybe they shouldn’t have…” The speaker trailed off. “Get her out of here! It’s dangerous to have someone like that around!” The chorus of condemnation was a heavy shroud over the night. An officer impatiently waved the crowd back, and their angry shouts dissolved into hushed whispers. Detective Miller’s eyes, usually so calm, were still filled with a profound disbelief. We looked at each other through the window of the police car, his gaze trying to bore through my façade. “If someone is threatening you, or…” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “You can tell me the truth. I will help you.” I just shook my head, my smile widening, my voice taking on a childlike glee. “I’m so glad you came… All I ever wanted was for you to take me away.” 2. It was almost 4 a.m. by the time I was settled in the precinct’s interrogation room. I kept my head down, letting them move around me. “Dr. Evans, could you give her a psychological evaluation first?” an officer’s voice said from above. “Considering the state we found her in…” I looked up as a middle-aged man in a suit approached. He had a professional, practiced smile and a stack of papers in his hand. I knew what they were. A psychiatric assessment form. Behind the one-way mirror, I could almost hear Detective Miller arguing with his colleagues. “It can’t be her. You don’t know what she’s been through… She just got back… She wouldn’t…” His voice was thick with compassion. I knew he was a good man, but I never imagined he’d still be defending me, even now. I smiled as the doctor sat down across from me. Before he could even speak, I looked him straight in the eye. “I’m not insane,” I said, my voice unnervingly calm. “You’re here to test my memory, logical reasoning, and attention to detail, correct?” I pointed to the one-way mirror. “Since I entered this room, four people have been in the observation room. The first was a female officer in uniform; she left about two minutes ago. The second and third were plainclothes detectives, likely from the homicide unit, based on their conversation. They’re standing behind the glass right now. The last one was the stenographer, who just went in to take notes.” Dr. Evans blinked, stunned. I continued, “Furthermore, you weren’t scheduled to be here today, were you? You were called in unexpectedly about half an hour ago. I can tell from the slight wrinkles in your shirt and the scuff marks on your shoes—you left in a hurry.” I paused, a knowing smile playing on my lips. “Shall I also explain why the camera in this room was repositioned ten minutes ago?” The temperature in the room seemed to drop. The doctor’s expression froze. He glanced at the one-way mirror, from which a muffled commotion could be heard. “This woman’s perception and analytical skills are perfectly normal,” Dr. Evans said, standing up, his voice tight. “In fact, they’re far more acute than average.” The corner of my mouth twitched upwards. After all, the truly insane know precisely how to fake their sanity. And I… I was just waiting for the perfect moment. The moment for the truth to finally see the light of day. An hour later, Detective Miller walked in. For a second, my eyes burned. The man standing before me was not the same one from a year ago. The warmth and pity in his gaze were gone, replaced by a deep, visceral disgust. Of course. Who wouldn’t be disgusted by a monster who had slaughtered her own family? His sharp eyes were fixed on me as he flipped through the report in his hands. He asked his first question. “What was your relationship with your sister like? Were you ever jealous of her? Did your parents show favoritism?” I paused, then answered quickly. “My sister and I had a wonderful relationship. As for favoritism, if anything, my parents seemed to favor me.” He stared at me, searching for a crack in my story. “Tell me, in detail, how you felt about your sister.” The room fell silent again. After a moment, I began to speak slowly. “This morning, for example, my mother and sister rushed out to go grocery shopping. Just before they left, my sister ran back to drape a light jacket over my shoulders, telling me the early summer breeze could still be chilly. She made sure to pack my favorite strawberry cake and chocolates in separate containers, worried the flavors might mix. She remembered everything I liked, even snacks I had idly mentioned wanting as a child.” Detective Miller cut me off. “And your father? What was your relationship with him?” I gave a small, almost mischievous smile. “It was good. My father did everything he could to make up for the past. You saw that yourself, didn’t you?” My words seemed to ignite a fire in him. He shot to his feet, slamming his hands on the interrogation table. “Stop playing games!” he roared. “Give me the details!” I let out a long, heavy sigh, as if expelling years of pent-up grief. “Alright. Let me start with what happened this morning.” I slowly raised my cuffed hands and placed them on the cold metal table. The clink of steel on steel was sharp and jarring. This was the first time I had ever stood up to him. We locked eyes, a silent battle of wills in the tense, suffocating air. The year I was home, my parents and sister were good to me. So good, it was as if they were trying to cram ten years of guilt and apology into a single year. The neighbors all said my years of suffering would be repaid with a lifetime of happiness. Today was supposed to be a party to celebrate the one-year anniversary of my return. This morning, my mother and sister hurried out to buy groceries. My father left early too, and though I didn’t know where he went, I knew he was preparing a surprise. And he was. When he returned, he had a thin piece of paper and a heavy box. It was the deed to the house, already signed and notarized. And a 1.4-ounce solid gold bracelet. I watched my mother and sister return, their arms laden with bags filled with all my favorite foods and snacks. Even in the summer heat, with sweat soaking through their clothes, they wouldn’t let me help carry anything. “Mommy’s going to make you a cake today,” my mother said, stroking my hair, her eyes full of tenderness. “I’ve never made one before, so you can’t make fun of it!” “I’ll help, big sister!” my sister said, tying on an apron. “I’ve been secretly watching baking videos for days. I promise we’ll make your favorite flavor.” Before starting the cake, my mother meticulously cleaned my room, not leaving a single stray hair. She did this every day for a year, saying that since I had lived in filth for so long, she would ensure the rest of my days were clean and beautiful. They poured all their guilt into a bottomless well of love for me. They spoiled me rotten. There were no arguments. Whatever I wanted, they bought. I sat on the sofa, watching them bustle around. All for me. I was enveloped in a cocoon of love. I answered his questions mechanically, my voice too calm for someone who had just annihilated their family. The interrogation room fell into a dead silence. “Then tell me how you killed them,” Detective Miller’s voice, cold as ice, broke through my reverie. My throat felt tight, my own voice trembling but laced with a strange, eerie calm. “I loved my parents and my sister very much. They were so good to me. Naturally, I had to repay their kindness…” A barely perceptible smile touched my lips. “So I made sure they died as a complete family, all neat and tidy.”

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Live on New Year’s Eve, my brother called me. I spoke first. “May you have peace and joy, and live a long, full life.” My brother let out a cold, sharp laugh. “But I don’t want you to have joy or a long life, Lisa. I hope you live in misery forever.” I had cut ties with my brother the year he lost everything. Now that he was a titan of industry, his first order of business was revenge. My voice remained steady. “May you have peace and joy, and live a long, full life.” His patience snapped. “Enough. I could never wish you well. If I have to wish you anything, I wish you eternal suffering.” The show’s host hesitated for a moment before gently interrupting him. “Mr. Chase… that was just a recording of your sister’s voice. When she passed… she was, as you said, in a great deal of pain.” 1 “Passed?” Matt Chase froze, then a sneer twisted his lips. “I hope you mean she’s dead.” The host paused, then simply gestured to the massive screen behind Matt. My face appeared on it. In the video, I slapped a hand over the camera lens. Rain plastered my hair and shirt to my skin, a picture of pure misery. My voice was raw with irritation. “Stop filming. I didn’t agree to this.” A moment later, a warm, magnetic voice replied, full of sincerity. “I’m not a con artist, I swear. I’m a filmmaker. I make documentaries about people’s lives. I can help you.” I turned away from the dumpster I’d been rummaging through and pressed my face close to the lens. “Oh yeah? Can you cure my cancer?” The man behind the camera fell silent. I stretched my lips into a hollow smile. “Don’t waste your time. Find someone else.” “Wait… I can try!” He grabbed my arm as I turned to leave. I looked him up and down, from his shirt and belt to his pants and shoes, and let out a short, sharp laugh. “Twenty bucks, sixty, forty, fifty,” I ticked off. “Oh, and the camera. Bought it secondhand, didn’t you? Do you have any idea how much my treatment costs?” I held up five fingers to the lens. “Half a million dollars.” The man’s breath hitched. I smiled and walked back out into the rain, bending over one dumpster after another. “Shadow? Shadow, where are you?” He followed me. “What are you looking for?” “A dog.” “Is he yours?” “No. I collapsed earlier. He licked me awake.” The man said nothing. I looked up at him. “If you’ve got nothing better to do, then leave. There are plenty of people in this world you can help. Don’t waste your time on me.” My hand covered the lens. The screen went black. 2 [AFTERLIFE — 10.11.2023, 9:32 AM — The Chase Family Heiress Needs No One’s Pity] “You’re Lisa Chase. Matt Chase’s sister, right?” I was sweeping the floor in the back kitchen of a café. I frowned at the voice. “You again?” The man’s voice came from behind the camera. “Everyone online says you’re a traitor, that you abandoned him. But they don’t know you have cancer. I want to film a documentary series about you. Can I?” I shook my head. “Let them call me a traitor. I worked hard to build that reputation. Are you trying to ruin it for me?” “Wait!” He quickly grabbed my arm. “But you’re broke. Where will you get the money for treatment? Let me help you. I have some savings.” I turned my head and smiled. “What do you think was the reason I cut ties with my brother in the first place?” He hesitated. I pulled my arm free and waved him away. “I have a job. I don’t need your help. Just go.” “I asked around. You only make two thousand a month here.” “Still don’t need it.” I turned my back to him, then glanced over my shoulder with a defiant smile. “The heiress of the Chase family never needs anyone’s pity.” The moment the words left my lips, my knees buckled and I collapsed. “Lisa!” The camera shook violently. On the floor, a pool of blood was spreading. “You…!” Brain’s voice trembled. The camera was tossed aside, and a tall, lanky man rushed to help me up. “Come on, I’m taking you to the hospital!” Just as he was about to lift me, I pushed him away with all my strength. I grabbed a rag, wiped the floor, then smeared the blood from the corner of my mouth with the back of my hand. “I don’t need it.” Then I walked to the sink and washed the blood from my face. Brain’s voice was shaking. “Please, I’m begging you. Let me help you.” I cleaned the last trace of blood, turned around, and looked at him with fierce intensity. “The heiress of the Chase family never needs anyone’s help.” And with that, I walked out of the frame. 3 [AFTERLIFE — 11.15.2023, 3:21 PM — The Puppy Doesn’t Know He’s Dying, Only That He Finally Has a Home] “What do you mean?” At the vet’s office, I stared in shock. The vet sighed and shook his head. “His original owner probably abandoned him because they knew he wouldn’t make it. The poor thing has been starving, getting bullied by other strays… He’s already…” I managed a small smile. “I know. You’re going to say he doesn’t have much time left, right?” The vet hesitated, then nodded. It was the same look my own oncologist gave me. Brain frowned. “Is there really nothing we can do?” “…Just keep him comfortable. Good food, warm bed.” Silence filled the room. I stroked Shadow’s head. “No wonder the two of us found each other.” Shadow’s tail wagged furiously. He rubbed against me, his tongue lolling out, his bright black eyes fixed on me. Brain gave a bitter smile. “He thinks you’re his owner now.” I paused. “Is that something to be so happy about?” Brain nodded, stroking the dog’s head. “A puppy doesn’t know he’s going to die. He only knows that he finally has a home again.” I was silent for a long moment. I patted the dog’s head. “Alright then. I’ll call you Shadow.” Shadow let out a happy “Woof!” As we left the clinic, I turned to face the camera. “You’re the one who found him and brought him to me. As repayment, I’ll agree to let you film your series.” 4 [AFTERLIFE — 12.31.2023, 9:00 PM — Then I Wish You a Long and Happy Life, Part 1] “Where did you get this?” I frowned, looking at the old videotape Brain had brought. He dangled it with a grin. “A good filmmaker has to fully understand his subject.” He popped the tape into a VCR. On the TV left behind by the last tenant, a girl with long hair in a pink dress appeared, bending down to look at the camera. Back then, my eyes still sparkled with hope. “Hello, hello! Happy New Year 2015! I wish everyone peace, joy, and all your dreams come true!” “You were so lively back then,” Brain said, sitting beside me, a smile in his eyes as he watched the video. I clutched a pillow, huddled on the tattered sofa in my tiny apartment, my head poking out from under a blanket. “Did you just dig up every video from all my old social media accounts?” “I found them interesting, so I brought them over.” I said nothing, watching my past self sit among piles of presents, a small tiara clipped in my hair. A familiar voice spoke. “Hold on, I’ll help you open them.” Matt walked into the frame and sat cross-legged beside me. I held up a hand in a “stop” gesture. “No! The Chase heiress is self-sufficient!” The camera cut, and now Matt was fastening a necklace around my neck. “Happy New Year, my little princess.” A camera flashed, capturing my huge, beaming smile. Laughter erupted as I smeared a dab of whipped cream on Matt’s nose. He froze for a second, then a grin spread across his face. “Stop messing around. Your hair is all tangled. Come here, let me brush it for you.” The video was filled with the sound of my happy laughter. Outside the screen, I found myself laughing along, a hollow echo of the past. I wiped the corner of my eye, my sigh trembling slightly. “After our parents died, everyone thought I was so pitiful. But I wasn’t. Not at all. I still had my brother, I still had my friends…” A cold draft swept through the leaky apartment. I wrapped the blanket tighter around myself, tears streaming silently down my face. A warm hand enveloped my own, which was red from the cold. Brain looked at me, his expression serious. “I’ve saved up some money. Let’s go to the hospital tomorrow. We can start your treatment.” I sniffled and laughed. “Your channel has less than a hundred followers, and you’re eating instant noodles with me every day. How much money could you possibly have?” His long, pale fingers clenched on his faded jeans. “It’s… something. It could help.” I shook my head stubbornly. “No. The Chase heiress never needs anyone’s help.” I lifted my chin at him proudly. “Don’t worry. My income is enough to cover my medication. See? I bought all of these with my salary.” I grabbed a handful of colorful pills and tossed them back, swallowing them in one gulp. I winced, remaining silent for a long moment before finally pressing a hand to my chest and letting out a long sigh of relief. When I looked up, Brain was watching me, the corners of his eyes tinged with red. I let out a small laugh. “Pretty impressive, right?” Brain looked down, a bitter smile on his lips. “Yeah.” 5 [AFTERLIFE — 12.31.2023, 11:45 PM — Then I Wish You a Long and Happy Life, Part 2] On screen, after a meager meal, the two of us were leaning against the sofa, waiting for the New Year’s countdown. Brain glanced at me. “Is that all you’re going to eat?” I felt a wave of exhaustion. “My stomach hurts. Any more and I’ll just throw it up.” Brain was quiet for a moment before finally speaking. “Mr. Chase… he’s made it. His new project just broke a hundred million in revenue.” I closed my eyes. “I know.” “Go back to him, Lisa. He can get you the best treatment.” I shook my head. “Why not? Do you want to die like this?” “Did you really think I expected to live when I cut ties with him?” That shut him up. After a moment, he spoke again, his voice trembling slightly. “Why did you do it? Why not let him face this with you?” I laughed. “Our parents always taught us that the children of the Chase family never need help from anyone. And yet, our family supported a whole clan of relatives. But when my brother went bankrupt, not a single one of them was willing to help.” My breath hitched. I bit my lip before continuing. “Do you have any idea how it felt to watch my brother grovel in front of them, begging them just to pay for my tuition?” “My brother never begged anyone. After being rejected by every single one of our relatives, he took me to a tiny, one-room apartment, about the size of this one. He told me that he, alone, would bring us back to the life we once had. That’s the brother I admire. The one who, even with nothing, still had his pride and his ambition. “But…” I laughed and looked at Brain. “What do you think would happen if he knew I was sick?” Brain stared at me, speechless. “He would get on his knees and beg those relatives.” My voice trembled as I said it. “He almost did, just for my tuition money. I was lucky I was there to stop him. Ha…” I wiped a tear from the corner of my eye. “Before I left, he and his partner were just starting to get back on their feet. Can you imagine what would happen if his partner found out the family suddenly had a bottomless money pit to deal with? Would he still have invested?” Brain’s voice was strained. “Lisa…” I held up a hand to stop him. “Cancer might take my life, but half a million dollars would have taken his.” Brain’s fists clenched at his sides. I sighed, a sad smile on my face. “The day I left, I tore him to shreds. I called him every name in the book. At the end, he was holding my arm, crying, begging me to stay, promising things would get better soon, that he’d give us our old life back. You see him now, so polished and successful. You could never imagine how pathetic he looked then. Ha…” Brain’s voice was low. “How did he finally let you go?” I remembered it all too clearly. “I told him he was a failure. That his past success was just because of our parents. I said his pathetic state was a disgrace to their memory, and if he had any shred of brotherly love left, he would let me go find my own happiness. And then… he let go. Bit by bit.” The bells for the new year began to ring. Fireworks exploded outside the window. I raised a hand and wiped the tears from my face. 6 [AFTERLIFE — 01.01.2024, 12:00 AM — Then I Wish You a Long and Happy Life, Part 3] Brain turned to look out the window. “Happy New Year, Lisa.” “Thanks.” “Aren’t you going to wish me a happy new year?” I looked up at him. “You’re asking a dying woman for a blessing?” His hand gently covered my own thin, frail one. “Please.” I watched the warm, golden fireworks burst outside the window, feeling as if I were bathed in their hopeful light. I smiled. “Then I wish you a long and happy life.” The hand on mine tightened, trembling slightly. Brain stared out the window, his expression hidden from view. The camera moved, and soon, we had both settled down for the night. But in the darkness, a figure slowly emerged. I leaned close to the camera, frowning. “Damn, forgot to turn it off.” I reached out to press the button, then paused. After a moment’s thought, I dragged a chair over and sat down in front of the lens, adjusting it left and right, a look of doubt in my eyes. “Will anyone ever really see this?” More fireworks lit up the sky, casting a warm, yellow glow on my face. I took a deep breath and gave the camera a small, gentle smile. “If anyone is watching… then I wish you all peace and joy, and long, happy lives.” I waved at the camera, and then pressed the button.

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