Author: Momo Chan

At the Harvest Moon Gala, as music and light filled the palace, an unknown woman suddenly proclaimed, “The titans of old are dust, mythic empires rust… Legendary heroes are but shadows, while true glory burns in our time!” I nearly choked on my tea. I wanted to shake her—”Sister, wake up! This is a fictional world. No Roman Emperors, no Greek heroes, no Genghis Khan. See the reality!” The hall fell silent. Nobles exchanged baffled glances. The Emperor chuckled awkwardly, lost for words. Fifi Meadows stood smugly, hip cocked as if awaiting applause. Sighing, I curtsied to the Emperor. “Your Majesty, I feel drawn to Lady Fifi. May I take her into my household?” “Granted.” He gave me a knowing look while Fifi glared daggers at me. Another sigh. Of all fellow travelers from my world, why did it have to be a fool? 1 My name is Lashana Veyle. I am the Duchess of Sunstone in the Kingdom of Aethel. And for a fellow transmigrator, Fifi Meadows was a true spectacle of idiocy. I lived my new life on a razor’s edge. I was meticulously careful, never daring to reveal my modern sensibilities, never producing anything anachronistic, and certainly never claiming the poetry of my world’s long-dead masters as my own. Fifi, on the other hand, lectured everyone she met on the virtues of democracy and free speech. She held court in my own ducal manor, preaching about universal equality and forcing my handmaidens to dine at the same table as her. Her cultural knowledge seemed to be limited to a basic high school education; she recited half-remembered lines from Shakespeare and Frost over and over again. This, in itself, wasn’t a catastrophe. Confined to my manor, the staff simply concluded she was mad. Her shocking pronouncements wouldn’t travel beyond the walls. But the girl had no sense of self-preservation. One day, just as I was about to extend a hand of friendship, to call her ‘sister’ in our shared, secret language of displacement, she scowled at me. Her almond-shaped eyes narrowed. “Lashana Veyle, don’t think being a duchess makes you special. If you hadn’t stolen my thunder at the gala, I’d already be the most celebrated poet in the kingdom.” “…” Words failed me. I turned to leave. Some fools were beyond salvation. “Hey,” Fifi called out impatiently, puffing up like an arrogant peacock. “Where am I supposed to live?” Behind me, my two guards, Lyra and Vesper, clenched their fists, their knuckles white. They were just waiting for my order to march over and slap some sense into her. I swallowed my anger. “Take Lady Fifi to… the Rosewood Pavilion.” The Rosewood Pavilion was the most remote courtyard in the entire estate. Out of sight, out of mind. Her appointed maid later reported to me in secret, whispering that Fifi spent her days staring into the mirror, chanting, “Brave Fifi, fear no evil. I will be the Empress. The Empress is me.” The poor maid clung to my leg, weeping and begging me to reassign her. Coveting the Emperor’s throne was high treason, a crime punishable by a slow, agonizing death. She was terrified that when Fifi was inevitably executed, she’d be dragged down with her. I had to promise her, repeatedly, that even if Fifi charged the palace with a dagger, I could guarantee her safety. Only then did she release her grip on my leg. Fifi was so stunningly stupid, she must have been brainwashed by a self-help guru. I was drowning in my own duties. The Autumn Equinox was approaching, which meant new clothes and bonuses for the entire ducal staff. Then there was my mother’s family at Veyle Manor to attend to. My ten-year-old sister, Elara, had apparently defeated every other student at the Royal Academy in single combat, and I had to make personal apologies to a dozen noble houses. My father, suffering from gout, threw a tantrum every time I restricted his diet, threatening to join a monastery. My brother, Cassian, had fallen for the top courtesan at the Gilded Cage and was currently being disciplined by his wife, a formidable woman from a mercenary guild… what a harmonious, picture-perfect family. Fifi burst into my study without knocking, rolling her eyes dramatically. “My, my, Duchess, what airs you put on. You actually dared to keep me waiting for a whole ten minutes.” I ignored her, my eyes fixed on the ledgers. My handmaiden, Jade, couldn’t hold back. “My lady is the Duchess of Sunstone, favored by the Emperor himself!” she fumed. “Even royal princes and the Emperor’s own consorts show her respect! Who do you think you are, waltzing in here without so much as a curtsy?” Fifi rolled her eyes again. “I act this way in front of the Emperor, too. What are you going to do about it?” I had to smile at that. The Emperor was famously magnanimous, never sweating the small stuff. And this fool mistook his tolerance for a license to be reckless. Ignoring Jade’s ferocious glare, Fifi plopped down in the chair opposite me, slouching gracelessly and helping herself to the pastries on my desk. I shot a sharp look at Jade. She understood immediately and led the other servants from the room. Only then did I raise my eyes to truly study Fifi. She had a delicate, girl-next-door beauty, but she was draped in gaudy crimson silks and glittering jewels that clashed horribly, making her look like a parody of a noblewoman. Sensing my gaze, she preened, flicking her hair. “The Emperor is deeply in love with me,” she stated with absolute certainty. “It’s useless for you to keep me locked up in here. You’d be wise to let me go. Otherwise, when His Majesty’s wrath descends, you won’t be able to handle the consequences.” 2 Fifi’s earnest conviction left me speechless. The imperial court was a nest of vipers. With the Empress’s throne empty, the two most powerful consorts—Lady Thea, the Emperor’s childhood sweetheart, and Lady Cora, sister to the formidable Prince Regent—were locked in a battle to the death. They used lower-ranking ladies-in-waiting as pawns in their schemes, discarding them without a second thought. Young women were sent into the palace like fresh flowers and came out as bleached bones. Any sensible girl, upon hearing she was chosen for the court, would sooner throw herself down a well. The Emperor’s handsome face meant nothing when your life was on the line. Three years ago, I’d taken an assassin’s arrow for the Emperor. He claimed it was love at first sight and, breaking all precedent, made me a Duchess. He had hinted, and then outright stated, on multiple occasions that he wanted me in his palace. I refused every time. The so-called “true love” offered by a man with a harem of hundreds was cheap. I had assumed this was a shared sentiment among transmigrators. Fifi, however, was a testament to the sheer diversity of our species. Not only was she champing at the bit to dive into the court intrigue, but she’d also developed a full-blown delusion that the Emperor was passionately in love with her. I couldn’t wrap my head around it. I prided myself on my eloquence, my ability to talk my way out of any situation. But looking at Fifi, all I could think was: my native tongue is stunned silence. A few days ago, Fifi had managed to sneak out and position herself along the Emperor’s procession route. She’d put on a grand performance, weeping and pleading with him. I don’t know what she said, but she somehow convinced him to name her a Baroness and grant her half of my own ducal estate. Fifi was now absolutely insufferable, puffed up with pride like a balloon. She marched around my gardens, pointing at the ancient plum trees and the vibrant azaleas. The plums, she declared, were bad luck because their name sounded like the word for “misfortune.” The azaleas were unlucky, their crimson blossoms reminding her of blood. And the Emperor indulged her. He ordered the trees cut down and the flowers uprooted. She said she wanted a high place from which to gaze at the moon, so he immediately commissioned the construction of a “Stargazer’s Tower.” Whispers in the capital grew louder: the Emperor had been bewitched by a siren. Countless scholars scribbled angry poems on my manor walls, cursing her. From time to time, people would even fling dung at the gates. One day, I almost got beaten by a mob that mistook me for her. She, however, wore this infamy like a badge of honor. She ordered the poems collected into an anthology, claiming she wanted to “preserve them for posterity.” She spun around like a hedgehog, pricking everyone she met. The worst was when she stormed into Princess Aurelia’s estate and mocked the princess for her unrequited love for a certain Marquis, accusing her of being unchaste. This was beyond foolish. Princess Aurelia wasn’t just anyone. She was the Emperor’s beloved younger sister, the jewel of the kingdom, a peerless beauty celebrated for her kindness, intelligence, and skill with a sword. From the lowliest street vendor to the Emperor and the Prince Regent themselves, no one would dare speak a harsh word to Aurelia. If Aurelia so much as frowned, the heart of the nation would break. Chastity? Aurelia didn’t need to follow the rules of chastity. Aurelia could rewrite the rules of chastity. When I rushed to the princess’s estate, I found Fifi hanging upside down from a tree, swinging like a grotesque piñata. The sight was deeply satisfying. But I had to plaster a somber expression on my face and beg Aurelia to let her down. Aurelia, a dear friend of mine, furiously threw her sword to the ground. “Lashana, have you lost your mind? I’ve seen my share of baronesses and duchesses, but never one so arrogant and stupid. Why are you keeping this lunatic in your house?” I curtsied deeply. “Your Highness, I truly don’t know what purpose she serves. But she is, after all, a Baroness created by the Emperor himself. If she were to die like this… I fear His Majesty would hold me accountable.” “Get out,” Aurelia snapped, waving a dismissive hand. “Of course, Your Highness. Thank you, Your Highness.” I had my people escort Fifi back to my manor and went straight to the palace. My main concern was the Emperor’s mental state. He could be a bastard, but he was a wise ruler. He never let personal feelings cloud his judgment on matters of state. It was impossible that he would disregard law and reason for a woman. When his feelings for me were at their peak, I was framed by the Prince Regent and thrown in prison. He knew I was innocent, yet he kept me locked up for two weeks until he had irrefutable proof to clear my name publicly. The idea that he was “bewitched by lust” was laughable. 3 “Lashana, you came.” In the imperial study, the brilliant young emperor put down his vermilion brush, his face lighting up with surprise as he took my hand. It was true; I never sought him out voluntarily, not even when my life was on the line. I performed the formal curtsy and delicately brought up the incident with Princess Aurelia. The Emperor just smiled and asked an unrelated question. “Lashana, have you ever heard of the scholar Sir Malcom from the previous dynasty?” I maintained my respectful, distant tone. “I have not, Your Majesty.” He gently tapped my nose and pulled me closer to his side. “Sir Malcom was a genius of his time. With a pen, he could govern the world; on a horse, he could conquer it. He redesigned the river levees and built reservoirs, saving sixteen cities from devastating floods. He claimed to be a ‘traveler’ from another world. He refused all titles and rewards, choosing to live in seclusion with his family. I suspect… that Lady Fifi may be his descendant. Or perhaps… she is a traveler, too. She can recite Sir Malcom’s poetry.” “Which poem?” “‘The world is a vast and fleeting stage, our time a flickering light; why rush and rage? Our lives are a struggle, a contest of might, yet we forget that fortune is fickle, our gains ever slight. See the autumn wind in the golden valley, the cold moon on the midnight river, the palaces of old now silent and chilly, the bronze pavilions now dust forever. Glory is but dew on a flower, wealth is frost on the grass; see through the illusion of power, and all your worries will pass.’” My heart twisted. Had I known that reciting a simple poem was all it took to win the Emperor’s favor, why did I have to throw myself in front of that arrow? It had pierced my left shoulder, and to this day, the arm is weak, aching with a deep, grinding pain on cold, rainy days. I didn’t recite the rest of the poem to reveal my identity. I just asked, my voice flat, “What is it you hope to gain, Your Majesty?” The Emperor’s smile was clear and bright, his eyes filled with the pride of a man who held the world in his hands. “If she is Sir Malcom’s descendant, her title is justified. If she is a traveler, then even if she seems useless now, she will inevitably contribute to the kingdom in the future. Either way, it’s a sound investment.” I sighed silently. As a transmigrator, I couldn’t cure all diseases. I couldn’t invent cement, glass, or soap. I couldn’t smelt steel. In my past life, I’d spent seven years studying medical imaging—a field utterly useless here. All I had was a bit of basic medical knowledge, which was better than nothing, but not by much. The Emperor, full of vigor, tossed a book to his head eunuch. “Take this collection of forbidden poems to the Royal Scribes,” he commanded with a laugh. “Have them copy it. I want a volume in the hands of every official in every province. And issue my decree: anyone, man or woman, old or young, who can recite these poems is to be arrested and brought to me.” A profound chill washed over me. Fifi was bait. The Emperor was fishing for people like me. The more foolish and arrogant she acted, the more he showered her with favor, the more believable the story that our kingdom welcomed transmigrators would become. The ruse had almost tempted me, a woman who wanted for nothing. What about our other countrymen, lost and struggling just to survive in this strange world? The Emperor leaned close, his breath warm against my ear. His voice was a soft, dangerous murmur. “If these travelers serve Aethel, they will be rewarded. If they do not… they will be eliminated. To crush any future dissent, to protect the foundations of my throne.” His words were as gentle as a spring breeze, but I felt as if I’d been plunged into a frozen lake. The way he bit down on the word “eliminated” was heavy with intent. Thank God I had always been so cautious, never revealing myself. But the Emperor was clever enough to connect an old dynasty’s scholar to Fifi through a single poem, to deduce her origins, and to quietly compile an anthology to hunt down every last one of us for his own use. Fifi’s title was a sugar-coated poison pill. What about my duchy? Was I truly so flawless in my disguise? And even if he had already discovered me, was my loyalty not enough? Was this his way of telling me to confess? I had no idea how many people he would catch. In my five years here, I had only ever met one other transmigrator, Kaelen, and one “aberration,” Orion. Fifi didn’t count. She wasn’t worthy. In my eyes, Fifi was as dumb as a pig. But I had to wonder… in the Emperor’s eyes, was I the real fool? 4 Leaving the palace, I ran into Prince Kaelen. He hopped into my carriage with easy familiarity, a teasing smile on his face. “Lashana, my friend. You, I, and Lady Fifi are all… you know. You’ve always been so kind and warm. Why are you and she like fire and water? Could it be… you’re jealous?” Kaelen was my best friend. His current identity was that of a hostage prince from a small, conquered kingdom. He lived his life in Aethel walking on eggshells, cautious to a fault, never saying a wrong word, never making a wrong move. He was even more useless than me. In his past life, he was a programmer. I lifted the carriage curtain, glanced outside, then leaned close to Kaelen’s ear and told him everything that had happened in the study. He broke out in a cold sweat, his already pale, scholarly face turning as white as a sheet. “We have to go,” he hissed. “We can’t stay in the capital. We have to run.” “Fine,” I said calmly. “But you might want to put the knife down first.” The blade I held against his throat pressed a fraction of an inch deeper. He sighed. “You’re a Duchess, and I’m a royal hostage. We can never leave this city. Don’t be afraid, Lashana. The Emperor loves you. He would never kill you. Last month you tore up an imperial edict naming you his consort, and you threw the Imperial Seal at him during an argument. He didn’t punish you at all. His love for you is as deep as the sea.” I laughed, a cold, bitter sound. “Deep as the sea? How many women are in his harem? Just because he claims to love me, I’m supposed to lock myself in that gilded cage? I’m not someone who can be imprisoned in the name of love. Besides, do you think Lady Thea and Lady Cora are easy to deal with? He can protect me ten times, a hundred times, but can he protect me for a lifetime? And we argued because he wanted to marry Elara off to the barbarian king of the Sunstone Isles. Elara is ten, Kaelen! Ten! I will never accept that.” “Never?” “Never!” Kaelen stared at me, then a slow smile spread across his face, his eyes shining. “Alright. I’ll get you out of here. After all, who knows what the Emperor expects from us? If he thinks we can move mountains or bring the dead back to life… we’d be better off dead. I promised I’d help you escape, and I won’t break my word. This is a serious matter; we need a long-term plan. Promise me, until then, you won’t panic. You won’t do anything reckless. Wait for me.” “Okay.” The maid from the Rosewood Pavilion reported that Fifi had been talking to herself again, convinced she was going mad. “Are you sure this is a sweet romance plot? Shouldn’t the heroine in a sweet romance just sit there while men fall all over her? Why do I only have the Emperor? Where are my second and third male leads?” “That cannon fodder Duchess is always making trouble for me. I complained to the Emperor, but he ignored me. I don’t want him as the male lead. He’s not worthy.” “I almost got killed by Princess Aurelia today. What a disaster. Grinding for points is so hard. Good thing I’m the protagonist and can’t die, or I’d be done for.” I stood silently outside her window. This whole unscientific business of transmigration had forcibly converted me from a staunch materialist to something else entirely. I was open to anything now. Reincarnation, cultivation, system interfaces… bring it on. My ‘aberration’ friend had been reborn ten times. He called himself Orion, a name he chose because it sounded like “aura of nothingness.” My old friend Orion wasn’t driven by any grand obsession; he was just immune to the waters of forgetfulness between lives. He had no special powers, but his mental state was… unique. His heart was like deadwood, utterly devoid of worldly desires. He didn’t work, didn’t marry, didn’t read, didn’t practice martial arts. Nominally a servant in my manor, he did absolutely nothing. He dressed like a beggar and spent his days lying on the roof, sunbathing and stargazing. When I felt overwhelmed, I’d bring wine and food up to the roof and listen to him talk about nihilism and Schopenhauer. I entered Fifi’s room, dismissed the maid, and prepared to have a serious talk with her. Before I could say a word, she started babbling. 5 “Let me tell you something,” she began, her eyes wide. “We’re all just characters in a book. You’re the cannon fodder rival, and I’m the female lead. I’m destined to marry the Emperor, become the Empress, and rule the world.” I laughed. The female lead was supposed to be a devastating beauty who weaponized her looks, or a lucky charm who stumbled into success, or a brilliant strategist, a female Zhuge Liang. Even a useless, clinging vine type had the skill to charm a man into doing her bidding. Even a villainess had to be ruthless and beautiful, with a knack for poison and a talent for scheming. “No protagonist is as stupid as you,” I said with contempt. She just grinned. “Hahahaha! That’s because I have a point system! Every poem written to curse me earns me one point. Offending a commoner gets me ten. Offending Princess Aurelia? That got me a hundred thousand points! A hundred thousand!” My already fragile worldview took another major hit. What kind of garbage system was this, rewarding someone for making enemies? Was that a sustainable growth model? Was the ultimate prize a choice between a silken cord, a dagger, and a cup of poison? She sat on her bed, looking at me like a smug child. “And you? You’ll be sent as a political bride to the Sunstone Isles. You’ll die in humiliation on the way. Prince Kaelen will try to retrieve your body, get trapped in a swamp, and his bones will never be found.” I silently rolled my eyes. “Don’t you believe me?” she said. “The Emperor is already sick of you. He’s just using you to pave my way. It was love at first sight for him. He’s completely smitten. Why else would he break all the rules to make me a Baroness?” Looking at Fifi’s unwavering conviction, I felt a deep sense of regret. Why did I think I could have a rational conversation with a lunatic? Wasting time is wasting life. I said nothing, gave her one last look of profound pity, and turned to leave. She leaped off the bed and blocked my path, speaking to the empty air. “System A, I want to use one million points to redeem the Pill of Absolute Obedience.” In the blink of an eye, a small pill materialized in her hand. She grabbed my chin, a vicious smile spreading across her face, and tried to force it into my mouth. “Swallow this, and you’ll have to do everything I say. It was worth offending all those people to finally get something useful.” CRACK. Fifi crumpled to the floor. I had grabbed the nearest vase and smashed it over her head. The Veyle family had a strong martial tradition. My shoulder injury prevented me from serious training, but I could still handle at least three pampered noblewomen in a fight. I glanced down at her unconscious form and, mimicking her, spoke to the empty air with a string of creative curses. “So you’re the fucking ‘System,’ huh? Let me show you what happens when a human decides to defy fate. Characters in a book? My ass! Did it ever occur to you to tell your host that scheming without the strength to back it up is just asking for a beating?”

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Zoey always said she was a creature of deep, abiding love. But on the day her first love was diagnosed with terminal cancer, she handed me a pill designed to erase my memories. “Cary,” she pleaded, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears, “Leo is dying. Just give me three days. It’s his dying wish—a wedding.” “I won’t let it hurt you,” she promised, her voice a soft, persuasive whisper. “This pill causes temporary amnesia. After the wedding, you’ll take the antidote, you’ll love me again, and we can get remarried. It’ll be like nothing ever happened.” Staring at the resolute set of her jaw, I took the pill from her palm and swallowed it without a second thought. What Zoey didn’t know is that I was the one who developed this drug. And there is no cure. In three days, I will have forgotten her completely. 1 As we stepped out of City Hall, the divorce papers feeling flimsy and unreal in my hand, Zoey glanced at her watch. “The drug will kick in in two minutes,” she said, her tone meticulously practical. “For the next three days, you’ll forget you ever loved me. And once you take the antidote, you won’t remember any of this, so there’s no chance of you getting hurt.” She reached out, her fingers cool against my cheek. “Our divorce is just a formality, a temporary measure. When this is over, we’ll be together again. You’re the only man I’ll ever truly call my husband, Cary. You know that.” I watched her in silence, the bitter truth a stone in my throat. There would be no reunion. As the drug’s lead researcher, I knew its true nature all too well. It didn’t wipe your memory clean in an instant. It was a slow erosion, a creeping tide that washed away the memories of your most beloved, piece by agonizing piece. And the antidote she spoke of? It didn’t exist. Not yet. But she was blissfully unaware. “Are you sure you won’t regret this?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. A fond smile touched her lips as she ruffled my hair. “Leo has loved me for so many years. His only wish is to have a wedding with me. How can I say no? And no, I won’t regret doing what’s right.” She framed my face with her hands. “Cary, you’ve always been the kindest, most understanding man I know. There’s no need to be jealous of a dying man. Once this is all over, we’ll go right back to our happy life.” A humorless smile twisted my lips. I let the acidic wave of sorrow wash over me, saying nothing more. I remembered the year we were most in love. I’d landed a major account for her, drinking myself sick until I was vomiting blood. She’d stayed up all night fighting to get my stolen research back, pushing herself until she developed a heart arrhythmia. Later, I’d teased her. “What if I get old and my memory goes? What if I forget you?” Her eyes had instantly reddened. She’d crushed her lips to mine in a fierce, desperate kiss. “Cary, I love you,” she’d choked out. “Promise me you’ll never forget me. I think I’d go mad.” And now, hearing that her old flame had cancer, she was the one orchestrating my forgetting. Divorcing me, feeding me a pill to erase every trace of our life together. She wanted to give him three days of her love, I guessed. A perfect, untarnished love, free from the inconvenient existence of a husband. An exclusive, complete devotion. But if she was brave enough to betray me so openly, why bother with the charade of a future reunion? I let out a dry, self-mocking laugh. Suddenly, a sharp pain lanced through my skull. My body swayed, and I pitched forward. Zoey’s reflexes were sharp; she caught me, her beautiful eyes filled with a sudden, deep concern. “Are you okay? What’s wrong? If you’re scared… if you’re worried I won’t come back, I can give you the divorce certificate, all the papers. You can hold onto them.” I pushed myself upright, blinking at her with what I hoped was a look of genuine confusion. “What divorce certificate?” Zoey froze, then her expression shifted. “Cary,” she said, her voice cautious, “we just got divorced. Do you remember?” “Divorced?” Seeing the blank look on my face, a flicker of something—relief? joy?—danced in her eyes before she could hide it. My gaze fell to the papers still clutched in my hand. I understood. The drug was starting to work. The first memory to go was the most recent, most painful one: our divorce. Zoey quickly snatched the certificate from my grasp, as if afraid I’d see her name next to mine. She softened her voice, weaving a new reality. “Cary, I’m your sister. You’ve been ill, you’ve lost some of your memories. I’ll keep these important documents safe for you.” I looked up, meeting her darting, evasive eyes, and said nothing to challenge the lie. Fine. If she wanted to play a part, I would play along. Just then, a low voice called out. “Zoey! There you are.” I turned to see Leo jogging toward us. He stumbled on an uneven paving stone, lurching forward. In a heartbeat, Zoey dropped my arm and lunged to steady him. The sudden release sent me stumbling backward into the hard brick wall of the building. My head, already throbbing with a needle-like pain, exploded in a fresh wave of agony. Leo clung to Zoey’s hand, his arm snaking around her waist as he flashed a triumphant smile. “Thanks for catching me, Zoey.” Realization dawned on her face. She blanched, pushing him away as her gaze snapped back to me. “Cary! Are you hurt? I’m so sorry, Leo’s sick… if he falls and starts bleeding, it might not stop. I had to catch him first.” I had already straightened up, brushing the dust from my jacket and swallowing the pain. “I’m fine.” Leo stepped closer again, his hand finding Zoey’s arm, his voice a conspiratorial whisper. “Zoey, what took you so long? It’s just a divorce. I was waiting forever.” Noticing my stare, Zoey cleared her throat, her guilt palpable. But she didn’t pull her arm away. “It’s done,” she said to him. “We can focus on the wedding now.” Leo’s face lit up. He shot me a smug, victorious glance. “Cary, your sister and I have been in love for five years. We’re finally getting married. The wedding is in three days. You have to be there.” I forced a smile. “It’s my sister’s wedding. Of course, I’ll be there.” His grin widened. “Great. You can be our photographer. Make sure you get a perfect shot of me and Zoey kissing at the altar…” “Leo,” Zoey cut in, her voice sharp with warning. She looked at me, a strange flicker of disappointment in her eyes when she found no trace of pain in mine. “He doesn’t need to come to our wedding.” My expression remained placid. Seeing Zoey defend me, Leo’s brow furrowed. He suddenly sagged against her, burying his face in the crook of her neck. “Zoey,” he whimpered, “my heart… it hurts. I can’t breathe.” Instantly, all her attention was on him, her eyes wide with alarm. “Is it happening again? Just hold on, I’ll get you to the hospital.” She glanced back at me, her voice low. “Cary, do you remember the way home? Should I have someone drive you?” I shook my head. “I remember.” She hesitated. The staff at the clinic had told her the drug only erased memories of a loved one, leaving everything else intact. The thought that I was her greatest love, the one being erased, seemed to momentarily soothe her. “Okay. You go on home, then. I’m taking Leo to the hospital.” With that, she guided a leaning, weakened Leo to her car. He kept his arm draped around her shoulders, his voice faint but clear. “Zoey, to be held by you like this, out in the open… even if I died right now, it would all be worth it.” “Don’t say such foolish things,” she chided gently. Through the car window, I watched as she leaned over to fasten his seatbelt. He suddenly wrapped an arm around her neck, pulling her close and pressing a soft kiss to her earlobe. The intimate, tender gesture sent a blade of ice through my heart. The sting of betrayal, sharp and undeniable. Her car sped away, leaving me in a cloud of exhaust. A moment later, my phone rang. “Mr. Reed,” a voice with a French accent said, “The Moreau Institute in Paris has prepared your orientation. We look forward to welcoming you in three days.” 2 I hung up and went home, only to find the apartment stripped bare, a hollowed-out shell of what it once was. Zoey and I had designed this place together. This was supposed to be our forever home, our cozy little sanctuary. Now, the tea set we’d designed, the art we’d chosen, every single object that held a memory of her was gone. She must have been terrified of me remembering our past. She’d even dug up the flowerbeds on the balcony, turning over the soil where we’d planted roses together, erasing even the roots of our shared past. Staring at the crushing emptiness, a bitter smile touched my lips. Zoey, in all your careful planning, were you more afraid of my pain, or were you afraid I’d remember everything and crash your perfect wedding? If you knew there was no cure, that my memories of you would be gone forever, would you feel a single shred of regret? I slipped my wedding ring off my finger. I wrote her a letter, sealed it in an envelope with the ring, and tucked it deep into the loose soil of one of the empty planters. Just then, my phone rang again. It was my best friend, Ryan. He hesitated before speaking. “Cary… man, I have to tell you something. I think Zoey’s cheating on you. I just saw her outside the hospital, all over some other guy.” “I know,” I said, my voice flat. “It doesn’t matter. Let her be.” Ryan was stunned by my calm. “Cary? Are you… are you okay?” His genuine panic almost made me laugh. “Why wouldn’t I be? Zoey and I are divorced.” “DIVORCED?!” I gave him the short, brutal version of the story. When I told him I’d taken the pill, a string of curses erupted from the other end of the line. “That son of a bitch! And her—what a piece of work! To marry that guy, she’d really stoop to anything. You gave up that research position in Paris to be with her! Half of her success, she owes to you! And now she does this, for him? And she has the gall to say she’s doing it so you won’t feel pain? Who the hell does she think she is?” Finally, a sliver of pain broke through my numbness, and my face grew pale. Five years ago, when Zoey was at her lowest, I married her without a second thought. I used every connection I had to pull her company back from the brink of bankruptcy. Back then, she would hold me tight every night, whispering in my ear that I was her forever. But somewhere along the way, things had changed. Her heart had found room for someone else. She forgot my sacrifices and started demanding that I be tolerant, that I forgive her “compassion” for Leo. Is it so hard to love one person, and one person only? Because I managed it just fine. Ryan, having exhausted his vocabulary of insults, took a deep breath. “I’m telling you, she is going to regret this for the rest of her life. Divorcing you, drugging you… she’ll be kicking herself forever.” He scoffed. “She has no idea you never finished the antidote, does she? Good. Let her suffer. And you… you’re finally free.” My eyes drifted to the planter where I’d hidden the letter. I knew Zoey’s habits better than my own. When she was upset, she’d drink a glass of wine on the balcony. If, when I was gone, she truly felt regret, she would find it. Late that night, I heard her come in. She was rummaging through the closet in my room. “What are you doing?” Her movements froze. She turned to see me standing in the doorway in my pajamas. She frowned, pulling a scarf from her own neck and wrapping it around mine. “It’s freezing in here. Why are you dressed so lightly?” I ignored her question. “Are you looking for something?” “Yeah,” she said, avoiding my eyes. “I need to borrow your suit. For Leo. He wants to wear it at the wedding.” She paused, then added, “You might not remember. It’s the one you wore for our wedding.” I stared at her, my silence a heavy weight in the room. Of course I hadn’t forgotten. She had designed it for me herself. Two whole months, from the first sketch to the final stitch. A couture piece that was practically priceless. All because I had once casually mentioned, “I wish I had a suit that was one-of-a-kind.” And now, she was taking that suit, made for me, to dress another man for his wedding. The absurdity of it was almost comical. I decided to press her. “Is this suit really that important? Why does it have to be this one?” My question seemed to stir a memory. Her hands stilled for a fraction of a second. The day she’d finished it, she had told me, “This suit, Cary, will only ever belong to you.” I watched her, waiting. She hesitated for only a moment before speaking. “It was designed by a master artisan. It’s the only one in the world. Leo loves it, and it’s his dream to get married in it.” Seeing my gaze drop, she added quickly, “Don’t worry. I’ll bring it right back after the wedding. And then… whatever you want, just ask. I’ll get it for you.” The same smooth, practiced lies. Another blow landed squarely on my heart. On our wedding day, her eyes had never left me. Afterward, she had carefully stored the suit away as if it were a sacred relic. “Why are you so careful with it?” I had laughed. She had looked at me with sincere, earnest eyes. “Because you gave this suit its meaning. I want to preserve that memory forever.” But now, because Leo “liked it,” she was handing it over without a second thought. The suit, once a treasured symbol, was now just a tool to appease another man. “It’s late. You should get some sleep. I have to go out again,” Zoey said, oblivious to the storm inside me. She took the suit and left. I pulled the scarf from my neck and let it fall to the floor. I looked at the empty space in the closet, a hollow ache of disappointment and sorrow filling my chest. It’s okay, I told myself, talking to the suit as much as to myself. Just like me, once she’s done cleaning house, everything will be fine. It was just another form of being thrown away. Once my memory was wiped clean, I could finally let go. As the thought crossed my mind, another vicious spike of pain shot through my head. And just like that, another huge piece of my memory vanished, pulling me violently from the depths of my grief. 3 The next day, Ryan called to tell me Zoey was throwing herself into wedding preparations for Leo. The scale of it, he said, was on par with the wedding she’d had with me. I nodded thoughtfully. For someone so busy, she still managed to have three meals a day delivered to my door. Spreading the love so evenly… it must have been exhausting for her. On the day of the wedding, Ryan took me to the venue. We sat in a corner, far from the main crowd. The ceremony hadn’t started yet. I could see Zoey and Leo, arms linked, surrounded by a laughing group of groomsmen. “I remember when Zoey and Cary had a wedding this big,” one of them said loudly. “Damn, I never thought our boy Leo would be so lucky, marrying such a knockout.” At the mention of my name, Leo’s hand tightened on Zoey’s. Zoey spoke up, her voice clear and firm. “Cary and I are divorced. Today is about Leo. Let’s not bring up the past.” Hearing her so decisively cut ties, another groomsman whistled. “Leo’s young, handsome, and brilliant. Cary Reed never stood a chance.” “Zoey, you better take good care of our boy for the rest of his life. Don’t you dare break his heart.” Zoey smiled sweetly, the same smile she’d given me when she made her vows. “Don’t worry,” she promised. “I won’t let him down. And he won’t let me down.” My gaze darkened. Beside me, Ryan was gritting his teeth. “What a twisted sense of morality. Since when is the other man celebrated for winning?” In the distance, someone started a chant. “It’s a beautiful day! How about a kiss for the happy couple!” The groomsmen joined in, a chorus of rowdy shouts. “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” Leo stared at Zoey, his expression a perfect mask of adoration. Under the mounting pressure, Zoey raised a hand to his jaw, then stood on her toes and pressed a soft, lingering kiss near the corner of his lips. The crowd erupted in cheers. In the midst of the roaring celebration, all I felt was a profound, echoing silence. She couldn’t guard her heart. Now, she couldn’t even guard her body. A mocking smile played on my lips. Thank God for the memory loss. The pain was already so much duller. Just then, my phone screen lit up. A boarding notification for my flight. “Ryan,” I said, standing up. “It’s time for me to go.” He pulled me into a fierce hug, his eyes red. “Go. Leave all this garbage behind and go be brilliant. I’ll be waiting to see you celebrated around the world.” He grinned mischievously. “As for this party… don’t worry. I’ve got a wedding gift for them.” “See you, man.” I clapped him on the shoulder, not bothering to ask what he had planned. In half an hour, the last of my memories of loving Zoey would be gone anyway. I walked away, pulling my suitcase behind me. As Zoey and Leo stood hand-in-hand, her eyes scanned the room and for a second, I thought she saw me. A flash of panic crossed her face. But she must have dismissed it. If I were here, I’d be attending as her “brother.” I wouldn’t be slipping out the back with a suitcase. She must have imagined it. The lights in the hall dimmed. Zoey and Leo stood center stage, exchanging rings under the spotlight, gazing at each other with saccharine sweetness. The crowd began to chant for another kiss. Suddenly, a massive banner unfurled from the ceiling above them. Ryan stood beneath it, holding a megaphone, a smirk on his face. “A toast!” he boomed, his voice echoing through the silent hall. “To the happy couple—the homewrecker Leo and the lying cheat Zoey! May your lives together be long and utterly miserable!” Leo’s face went white as he stared helplessly at Zoey. Recognizing Ryan, Zoey’s face hardened with fury. “What the hell are you talking about? Cary and I are divorced! Leo is not a homewrecker!” Ryan let out a cold, harsh laugh. “You want to have your cake and eat it too, don’t you? You can’t let go of your ex-husband, but you still have to give this guy his fantasy wedding. You told Cary to wait for you, to remarry you! Do you have any idea how much pain you’ve put him through these last three days?” Zoey’s eyes turned to ice. “You don’t need to worry about that. I gave Cary the memory drug. He won’t remember a thing.” “You idiot,” Ryan spat. “The drug doesn’t work instantly. It takes three full days for the memories of a loved one to disappear completely. Every single thing you’ve done, every lie you’ve told, every moment with him—Cary saw it all.” Ryan tilted his chin up, his eyes filled with contempt. “And here’s something else you don’t know. Who do you think was the lead researcher on that drug? It was Cary. Your ex-husband.”

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On the way to finalize our divorce, Liam and I were hit by a truck. Just before I lost consciousness, I heard him whisper, “If I could do it all over, I would’ve said yes when Ashley confessed her love.” “To live a life full of passion with her… that’s the life I’ve always wanted.” When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of our engagement party. Just like last time, Ashley stood there, holding a bouquet, asking Liam if he would choose her. Without a single glance at me, Liam took the ring and knelt before Ashley. “Ashley, I love you. Will you marry me?” I knew then that he had been reborn, too. So, I let them have their moment. He got his wish, a life of freedom and passion with Ashley. But later, he came crawling back, kneeling before me, begging through tears for me to marry him again. 1 Ashley was stunned by the sudden turn of events. When Liam asked again, tears of joy streamed down her face. “Yes, I will!” They embraced tightly, completely oblivious to the icy tension that had gripped the room. All eyes were on me. I took off my veil, tossed it aside, and watched the deeply in love couple with a cold, detached gaze. Liam led Ashley onto the stage and took the microphone. “Today was supposed to be my engagement party,” he announced. “But standing up here, I’ve realized that the person I truly love is Ashley.” “I’ve let her slip through my fingers too many times. This time, I won’t make the same mistake. I want to spend the rest of my life with her!” No one in the room applauded their whirlwind romance. Liam finally looked at me, his voice devoid of all emotion. “I wasn’t thinking clearly before. If you want compensation, I can give you five hundred thousand. I hope you’ll stay out of my life from now on.” His eyes were cold and numb, a reflection of the twenty years of marriage that had worn him down in our past life. But when he looked at Ashley, his eyes burned with the same passion he’d had in his twenties. We had dated for three years before deciding to get engaged. The moment I said yes, he had announced it to everyone we knew. We were showered with blessings from all sides, with one exception: Ashley. She was his junior in college and had fallen for him at first sight. She orchestrated “chance” encounters all over campus, and after graduation, she found ways to stay close to him. Whenever she saw me, she’d flash a bright, provocative smile. “You’re not married yet,” she’d say. “I’m not giving up. I’ll make him see that life has more than one path!” I was always unsettled by her presence, but Liam would just pull me into his arms and coldly reject her. In our past life, to prove his unwavering commitment to me, he had rushed to hold the engagement party right after proposing. Ashley had shown up at that party, too, wearing a stunning wedding gown. She looked beautiful yet fragile, her gaze fixed stubbornly on Liam. “Liam,” she had declared, “this is the last time I’ll confess my feelings to you. If you reject me again, I will disappear from your world forever!” In that life, Liam had taken my hand, knelt, and placed the ring on my finger, his actions a silent, final rejection of Ashley. But this time, he took Ashley’s hand and confessed his love to her in front of everyone. As the room remained frozen in a stunned silence, I simply took a step back and let them steal my spotlight. Only after their passionate declarations were over did I speak, my voice calm and even. “I wish you both the best. Liam, I hope we never see each other again.” 2 Liam flinched, clearly surprised by how easily I had let go. Ashley, on the other hand, let out a squeal of delight, planting several kisses on his lips before finally turning to me. “Sarah, I told you he would choose me!” I gave her a half-hearted nod and turned to leave. As I stepped off the stage, I stumbled. A cool hand steadied me. “Miss Paltrow,” a smooth voice said, “perhaps it’s time you started looking at other people.” I looked up at the man holding my arm—Adrian Stanton. A small smile touched my lips. I recognized his face from countless financial news segments in my past life. I just never expected to see him at my own disastrous engagement party. “Like who?” I asked. A smile spread across Adrian’s face, his dark eyes reflecting only me. He pressed a slip of paper into my palm. “My number. Call me when you have a moment.” I glanced at him, then gathered my skirt and headed for the dressing room. My parents and Liam’s parents followed me, their faces grim. Liam’s parents offered a forced, apologetic smile. “Sarah, our son has been so foolish. But what’s done is done. We want to compensate you. Just tell us what you need, and we’ll make it happen.” My mother rolled her eyes. “Who cares about your…” I quickly grabbed her hand, cutting her off. Then, with a bright smile, I said, “Auntie, in that case, how about you give me that plot of land in the North District?” Right now, that piece of land was practically worthless. But in a few years, its value would skyrocket. It was that very plot that had saved Liam’s family from bankruptcy in our past life. His parents drew up a contract on the spot. I beamed. After they left, my mother smacked my arm. “How can you be smiling after being publicly humiliated like that?” I pointed to the contract. “With this? How could I not be?” I truly was happy. In our past life, a series of bad decisions by Liam’s family had dragged my family’s business down with them into bankruptcy. The Stanton family was only saved by that single plot of land. I, on the other hand, had to pour every ounce of my energy into work just to salvage my family’s company. He had thrown tantrums more than once, complaining about how dull and boring our life was. Why couldn’t I just put work aside so we could see the world, have some fun? That’s when Ashley had reappeared. She had become a famous travel blogger, her location tag bouncing from one country to another. Liam was mesmerized by her videos. He started using “business trips” as an excuse to fly to Africa to watch the wildebeest migration with her. One was wild and free, the other yearned for that same freedom. It was inevitable that they would be drawn to each other. His “business trips” became more and more frequent. When I finally grew suspicious, I booked a seat on the same flight and discovered the truth. When I confronted him, the coldness in his eyes stopped me in my tracks. He said that being with me was like being trapped in stagnant water, utterly lifeless. Only with Ashley did he feel alive. Eventually, he hit rock bottom. “Let’s get a divorce,” he’d said. “You can have three-quarters of everything. You can have the kids. I just want my freedom.” “A person like you,” he’d sneered, “all you care about is money and profit. You’ll never understand the joy of a life without constraints.” He sounded like his eighteen-year-old self again, arrogant and reckless. But all I felt was a sense of ridicule. A life of passion and freedom was certainly appealing, but without a material foundation, it would ultimately lead to an empty void after the initial thrill wore off. Once he had had his fill of adventure, he would realize he had nothing to show for his life. For a long time after that, I heard nothing from Liam. I’d only catch glimpses of him when Ashley’s account popped up on my social media feed. It seemed he was truly living the life he’d always wanted. But I didn’t dwell on it. Because I, too, had found a new life and a new love, one who truly shared my ambitions. 3 I walked into the Stanton Corporation headquarters, holding a proposal for the North District development project. The elevator doors opened, and I found myself face-to-face with Liam. “Sarah Paltrow?” Behind him, Ashley looked up at me. They were both decked out in ski gear, a brand owned by Stanton Corp. I knew one of Adrian’s subsidiaries was looking for influencers to be brand ambassadors; I just hadn’t expected it to be them. I gave a curt nod in greeting and moved to step into the elevator. Liam blocked my path. “How did you know I’d be here?” “Sarah,” he said, his voice laced with annoyance, “I just got back in the country, and you’re already chasing me. Can’t you just leave me alone?” Ashley clung to Liam’s arm, her eyes full of smug satisfaction. “Sarah, you were so dramatic about leaving him. Why are you chasing him now? Liam and I are doing great. I heard things aren’t going so well for you, though?” “I heard the Paltrow family business is on the brink of collapse?” she asked, looking me up and down with the disdain one reserves for a failure. “Oh, Sarah, you’re so pathetic. Your family’s business is gone, you’re getting old, you’ve never even seen the world, and now Liam doesn’t love you anymore. Why don’t you come be our assistant? We could even pay you a little extra.” I looked at them as if they were a pair of fools. Had all that traveling knocked their brains loose? The Paltrow Corporation had been restructured and rebranded ages ago. The “Paltrow business” they were talking about was just a small subsidiary I’d left for my younger brother to practice on. “No, thank you,” I said calmly. “I’m doing just fine.” I tried to move past them to press the elevator button. But Ashley was relentless. She waved at the receptionist. “Does Stanton Corp just let anyone in? Does this woman even have an appointment?” The receptionist hurried over. “Miss Paltrow does have an…” Ashley cut her off. “So what if she has an appointment? I was personally invited here by Mr. Stanton himself. If you offend me, I’ll have him fire you!” Liam chuckled beside her. “Exactly. Besides, this ‘Miss Paltrow’ isn’t really here to see Mr. Stanton. She’s just trying to harass me. I can handle this for him.” He then pulled out an old photo of us from his wallet and showed it to the receptionist as if it were proof. “Sarah, you really went to great lengths to find me, even booking an appointment with Mr. Stanton. It’s pathetic,” he said. “If you have something to say, let’s take it outside. Don’t embarrass yourself here.” The receptionist’s gaze wavered. “Miss Paltrow, perhaps it would be best if you left.” I felt a knot of frustration tighten in my chest. I couldn’t believe how these two could so brazenly impose their own narrative on a situation and be so utterly self-righteous about it. I turned to the receptionist. “Please call Mr. Stanton’s secretary and authorize the private executive elevator for me.” She looked at me, hesitating. “Miss Paltrow, you only have an appointment with Mr. Stanton. The executive elevator is for… well, executives.” “Besides,” she added, her suspicion growing, “if you’re really just here to see Mr. Miller, you don’t actually need to see Mr. Stanton at all.” Ashley snorted. “Sarah, stop pretending. Your family is practically bankrupt. You have no business using the executive elevator.” The commotion was attracting attention from other clients waiting in the lobby. Their whispers were loud enough for us to hear. “Who does she think she is? Trying to use Mr. Stanton’s private elevator?” “Probably another gold digger. Even though Mr. Stanton is engaged, he still attracts them like flies.” The audience seemed to fuel Liam and Ashley’s performance. Their voices grew louder. “Sarah, I know we had a past, but can you please stop harassing me here? Even though I have a good relationship with Mr. Stanton, I can’t just let you cause a scene!” “There’s a coffee shop outside. Let’s talk there.” 4 I glanced at my watch. My meeting with Adrian was in a few minutes. I was starting to get anxious. “Liam, Ashley, I told you, my being here has nothing to do with you. Now, please move.” “Nothing to do with us?” Liam’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “I’ve been out of the country for months. I land today, and the moment I finish my photoshoot, you appear. You’re telling me this isn’t a calculated move?” “Sarah, you were the one who said you hoped we’d never see each other again. But the moment I’m back, you’re right here. You think I don’t know what you’re thinking?” A flicker of anger ignited within me. “Are you two done? If you are, then get out of my way!” “Sarah, darling, don’t get so flustered!” Ashley cooed. “We’re just trying to catch up. After all, Liam did choose me in the end.” “He still feels guilty about you. We’ve been so happy these past few years, so he worries about you sometimes.” I finally realized it. These two were living in a world of their own making. I stopped arguing and sat down on the sofa, pulling out my phone to call Adrian. “I’m being held up in your lobby,” I said. “The two people blocking my way claim to have a good relationship with you. You should probably come down.” I hung up before he could reply. Liam and Ashley exchanged a look and laughed. “Sarah, are you really calling Mr. Stanton?” I ignored her, focusing on my proposal. Ashley snatched the proposal from my hands, flipped through it dismissively, and then ripped it to shreds. “What’s this? A few pieces of paper? Do you have any idea who Mr. Stanton is? How dare you speak to him like that?” she sneered. “You probably just dialed a random number.” I watched as the proposal my team had worked on all night turned into confetti. A wave of frustration and rage washed over me. I slapped her, hard. “Ashley, have you gone through life without ever facing consequences for your actions?” She clutched her cheek, her eyes wide with disbelief. “You hit me?” “Sarah! I was personally invited here by Mr. Stanton! Do you have any idea what you’ve just done?” “I was going to put in a good word for you, maybe get you a meeting with him to save your precious family business.” Liam rushed to her side, pulling her into his arms to inspect the damage. “Sarah, you really don’t appreciate kindness, do you? Apologize to Ashley right now, and maybe she’ll still introduce you to Mr. Stanton. If you don’t, you’ll have to face the consequences!” The receptionist’s face had gone pale. “Miss Paltrow! How could you hit Miss Lin? She’s Mr. Stanton’s personal guest! What if something serious happens? Can you afford to take responsibility?” Liam sneered. “Sarah, if you kneel and apologize, I’ll put in a good word for you with Mr. Stanton.” The commotion had drawn everyone’s attention. No one noticed the elevator doors slide open. Not until a warm hand rested on my shoulder. “Honey, what’s got you so upset?”

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My sister, Lily, got married at twenty and had my nephew at twenty-one. Me? I’m twenty-seven, and I can’t seem to get anyone to stick around. Over the last few years, I’ve brought a string of boyfriends home. But just as things would get serious, just as we’d start talking about marriage, my father would lead them into his study. I don’t know what he said to them in there. But when they emerged, they were like strangers, their eyes filled with a terrifying rage. Some of them even tried to strangle me. My newest boyfriend, Mark, thought my dad was being unreasonable. But after he followed my father into the study, he came out with his eyes blazing, slapped me twice across the face, and broke up with me on the spot. I was left bewildered. What was the real reason they all left me? What secret was hidden in my father’s study? 1 “You worthless slut! Aren’t you disgusting?” “Next time, I should just let one of your boyfriends kill you. Maybe then you’ll finally learn your lesson!” After Mark left, my father’s face was a mask of cold fury as he hurled insults at me. To be honest, I’d had five boyfriends in the past few years, and without exception, it had always ended this way—in a brutal, ugly breakup. And before they turned violent, every single one of them had gone into my father’s study. It was hard to believe a person’s heart could change so quickly, but it happened. Every. Single. Time. I frowned at my father, hoping for even a single word of apology. But he looked at me like he wanted to tear me apart, furious that my latest ex hadn’t just finished the job and strangled me. I knew he’d always favored my sister, Lily. He never cared about me. When I first started dating, he forced me to break up with my boyfriend. Yet, the moment Lily turned twenty, the legal age for marriage, he practically pushed her down the aisle. Watching her husband move into our house, doting on her, showering her with affection—I was so envious that she could be with the person she loved. Whenever my dad caught me looking, he’d kick me to the ground and snarl at me to stop staring at my brother-in-law, telling me to forget about ever getting married myself. When Lily and her husband went on their honeymoon abroad, my father made me stay home, grounded, to “reflect on my mistakes.” He even had Lily call me and tell me not to get married, not to “ruin someone else’s life.” I never thought my own father would be the one to systematically destroy every relationship I had. I even started to wonder if I was adopted. I hired a private investigator, but the results were clear: I was his biological daughter. I couldn’t understand it, so I vented my frustrations on an online forum. Strangers chimed in, trying to solve the puzzle with me. 【Is it possible you were born on the day of a huge business deal he lost? He blames you for his financial troubles and wants revenge.】 【I bet you look like his mistress. Your mom hates you for it, so your dad does too.】 So I did more digging. But my dad was a teacher; he had no business experience. He was a man of integrity, no skeletons in his closet. I just couldn’t understand why he was so dead set against me finding love. Especially when I, with my striking looks, seemed to find it so easily, only to have it ripped away. Desperate, I asked my uncle to talk to him. Uncle Ben thought my father was being absurd. Who would want their own daughter to die alone? He went straight to our house to confront him. “Your daughter has found someone she likes! As parents, we should be happy for her. What’s wrong with you, trying to keep her single? Have you lost your mind?” My father stared at him in silence, then grabbed his arm and pulled him into the study. 2 When they came out, my uncle’s gentle gaze had been replaced by a vicious, cruel glare. Not only did he stop advocating for me, he kicked me square in the chest. “You pathetic stray! At your age, you still think you deserve to be loved? You’re not worthy!” Just then, my aunt arrived, looking for my uncle. She saw what happened and started yelling at him, but after my dad took her into the study, she too turned on me. She warned me to never think about marriage again, or she’d personally poison me. It was so strange. What on earth was in that study that could so drastically change everyone who entered it? Even my sister, Lily, who I’d always been close to, started telling me not to get married. “What’s so bad about being on your own? It’s freeing,” she’d say. She secretly burned all my photos with my ex-boyfriends and deleted their numbers from my phone, forbidding me from seeing or contacting any men. I tossed and turned every night, the mystery gnawing at me. But no matter what, at least my mom was still on my side. The problem was, she owned three restaurants and worked from dawn till dusk. She was never home to see how I was being treated. I had cried and raged over my breakups, but it was useless. A vast, empty disappointment settled in my chest, a gaping hole that let in a chilling wind. My father shot me a look of contempt and went to watch TV on the sofa. I walked over and stood directly in front of him, my expression serious. “Dad, tell me the truth. Why are you doing this to me? What did I do to offend you? Can’t we just talk about this like a family? Does it have to be like this?” If it was a misunderstanding, we could clear it up. But he didn’t even look at me, his eyes glued to the screen. “I’ve told you. No dating, no marriage. If you dare to disobey me, I will kill you.” Then, his eyes slid to the side, fixing me with a cold, unnerving stare. A shiver ran down my spine. He wasn’t joking. He stood up, went to the kitchen, and came back with a butcher knife, charging at me like a madman. Terrified, I ran into my room, locked the door, and called my best friend, Romy, begging her to call the police. The police arrived quickly, with Romy right behind them. A female officer immediately subdued my father, throwing the knife far away. I finally let out a breath and emerged from my room. “Mr. Wolfe,” the officer said sternly, “you are under suspicion of attempted murder. Please come with us to the station for questioning.” Even in handcuffs, my father looked dismissive, not a hint of fear on his face. Romy saw the gash the knife had left on my arm and her face went pale. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She punched my father’s shoulder, her voice filled with rage. “Are you insane? That’s your daughter!” “You’d rather kill her than let her get married?” She sobbed, gasping for breath. I knew if the police weren’t there, she would have fought him to defend my honor. In this world, there were still people who genuinely wished for my happiness. The police asked my father for his motive, but he remained silent, utterly unrepentant. 3 Romy stepped forward, holding up her phone. “I have proof. Sarah has had five boyfriends since she was twenty, and her father instigated every single breakup. He even encouraged them to hit her! I have all the photos of her injuries. These monsters need to be punished!” At her words, my father let out a low, chilling laugh, his expression contorted and terrifying. He gestured to the police to loosen their grip and then looked at Romy. “Fine, I’ll go with you. But first, I need to get some important evidence from my study. If you’re afraid I’ll run, you can all come in with me.”

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A new semester. A new beginning. My roommate, with her fabricated royal pedigree, had her eyes set on the Maybach my brother used to drop me off. That very night, she splurged, renting out the penthouse restaurant of an eight-star hotel to confess her feelings to him. The next morning, she had changed all her social media handles to “Mrs. Boothe.” And she vowed to spend our years as roommates teaching me “proper etiquette” according to her “royal standards.” What she didn’t know was that my “brother” was just a boy from an orphanage my parents had sponsored since he was little. And I was the true heir to the entire Boothe fortune. 1 It was for my brother, Enver’s, birthday. I’d gifted him a limited-edition Maybach sports car. To show his gratitude, he insisted on driving me to campus in it on the first day of the semester. That night, my roommate, the self-proclaimed royal descendant, Tina, didn’t come back to the dorm. She finally reappeared three days later, strutting in with an armful of luxury shopping bags, her nose in the air. She found me in our room, reading a product development report, and unceremoniously dumped the bags beside me. “Get these organized. Hang them in the closet. And be gentle. This stuff bruises easier than you do.” Her tone was that of a feudal lady tossing scraps to a scullery maid. When I didn’t move, her impatience flared. She shoved me hard, her gaudy, diamond-encrusted nails scratching a red line across my shoulder. “Mia Boothe, don’t you dare pull your little princess act with me!” she snapped. “Haven’t you heard? From now on, you live by the skin of my teeth.” She leaned in, her voice dripping with venom. “I tell you to study, you study. I tell you who to marry, you marry him. And if I say you don’t get a penny for a dowry, you’ll be out on your knees, begging on the street!” I couldn’t help the smirk that touched my lips as I watched her unhinged performance. “Don’t tell me you’ve finally found a way to get your ancestors back on the throne? You can have my family banished with a single word now?” I remembered her from freshman orientation last year. The first thing she’d said when introducing herself to the class was, “I am the thirty-ninth direct descendant of Prince von Hess. A hundred years ago, you would have had to kneel before me. But in these… special times, I grant you permission to use my name and be my classmate.” At first, some of the kids, fresh out of high school, were actually half-convinced by her vintage clothes and the jade pin in her hair. But it didn’t take long to learn the truth. Tina’s parents were prop masters for film sets. All her “heirlooms” were just repurposed costumes from historical dramas, all part of a grand scheme to package herself as high-born nobility. Her goal? To snag a wealthy husband and leapfrog into the upper class. And in this school, she hated me most of all. She was merely lost in a self-constructed fantasy of aristocracy, while I was, in fact, born into wealth. My sarcastic jab earned me a haughty eye-roll. She triumphantly whipped out her phone and shoved her social media feed in my face. “As of yesterday, your brother has officially asked me to be his girlfriend,” she declared. “From this moment on, I am the lady of the Boothe Corporation. Your dear sister-in-law. I’ve promised your brother I’ll give him at least three sons, so the Boothe family assets rightfully belong to my husband and my boys.” She paused, as if granting me a great favor. “But don’t you worry. I’ll take these next few years to train you properly, teach you the royal etiquette you so desperately need. When it’s time for you to marry for the family’s benefit, I’ll try my best to find you a man on his first wife.” “You’d better be cooperative,” she added, her eyes narrowing. “Because if I give birth to a daughter first, you won’t even have that marriage alliance to fall back on!” I burst out laughing. It’s true what they say—sometimes a situation is so utterly absurd, all you can do is laugh. I couldn’t believe that in the year 2024, someone’s mindset could be so stuck in the last century. Besides, the man kissing her in the photo at that eight-star hotel wasn’t my real brother. He was just a charity case my parents had taken in from an orphanage years ago. 2 I had no time to waste on someone so clearly delusional. Grabbing my laptop and research materials, I buried myself in the lab. If everything went according to plan, by the end of this semester, the new product I was developing would lead my family’s company to ring the bell on Nasdaq. I returned to the dorm late that evening. The moment I opened the door, Tina’s hand cracked across my face. “You brainless idiot!” she shrieked. “Didn’t I tell you to ask my professors and the academic advisor for a leave of absence for me? Why do all my classes show me as absent! Why are my participation grades gone!” Without a second thought, I slapped her back. Twice. Hard. “Who’s the brainless one here?!” I shot back. “The university has a strict policy against unexcused absences at the start of the semester. Who told you to skip the first day of class?” Tina was stunned into silence, her eyes welling up with tears of theatrical indignation. She immediately dialed Enver’s number and put him on speaker. “Darling,” she sobbed, “I’m so sorry. I just can’t manage Mia. She was out all day, and I was just worried about her. I only asked where she’d been, and she hit me.” Her voice trembled with false piety. “It’s not that I mind her hitting me… but a woman must uphold her feminine virtues to be blessed. If Mia keeps being so willful, she’s going to ruin all her future blessings!” I stood by, arms crossed, unimpressed by her pathetic, twisted narrative. But then, she thrust the phone in my face, and I heard my brother’s voice, shaking with rage. “Mia Boothe! Who the hell taught you to be so arrogant and willful?!” “Apologize to Tina right now! Or don’t blame me for disowning you as my sister!” 3 Enver’s reaction shocked me. Was this really the same boy who had cried in the orphanage, begging my parents to take him home? The same boy who had held my hand and promised to protect me for the rest of his life? For all these years, without my family’s support, he wouldn’t have even made it through middle school. We had always treated him as one of our own, never breathing a word to anyone about his adoption. We’d never been stingy with money or resources. The very sports car he was driving was a birthday gift from me. And now, for a girl he had been dating for all of three days, he was pointing fingers at me without even asking what happened. I guess it was true. No matter how genuine your kindness is, it becomes worthless once the other person takes it for granted. Pushing down my shock, I asked in a calm, level voice, “Enver, are you saying you’d really disown me as your sister?” “Mia, you know I’m just doing this for your own good… You need to listen… or Mom and Dad will worry…” His tone softened immediately, his slight tremor betraying his guilt. He knew perfectly well that at the age of thirteen, I had been officially named the sole heir to the Boothe family. The only reason I was even attending this university was because I saw potential in its student body. A team I built myself would be a team I could truly trust. 4 Right after I hung up, an apology text from Enver arrived. He claimed he had only been so harsh because he was afraid I was going down the wrong path. In his heart, I was his most important sister. At the end of the message, he specifically told me not to reveal his true identity to Tina. He was afraid that Tina, with her “noble” background, would look down on him. If this had been the old me, I would have immediately exposed Tina’s charade to him. But now? I didn’t care anymore. To me, an ungrateful outsider was no longer worth my time or effort. In the following days, I poured all my energy into the final stages of product development. I was out of the dorm at dawn and back late at night, successfully avoiding any more run-ins with Tina. She tried several times to make me recite a “manual of female virtues” she had written, but I ignored her completely. I had made up my mind: as soon as the new product launched, I was moving out. Then came the mid-autumn holiday weekend. I had just finished the last bit of work on the project and returned to the dorm to pack my bags. Suddenly, the door burst open. Tina and a strange man pinned me to the bed. I struggled frantically, terror coursing through me. “Let me go! Get off me! I’m calling the police!” Tina pulled the pin from her hair and jabbed it into me, again and again. “Go ahead! Call them!” she sneered. “Before they get here, my cousin will be done with you! You’ll be damaged goods nobody will ever want to marry!” I trembled in pain, glaring at her. “Tina, what the hell do you want?!” “What do I want?” Her eyes gleamed with a crazed triumph as she pulled a long, crudely made strip of white cloth from her dress. “I’m going to teach you a lesson. A permanent one!” “This is a treasure from my ancestors! Since you refuse to learn your place and keep trying to run around,” she hissed, “I’ll make sure you stay home. Permanently!” With that, she clenched the long cloth between her teeth, grabbed my foot, and began to twist it, forcing my sole to bend at an unnatural, sickening angle.

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In the corpse-piles of a battlefield, I found the Crown Prince, his memory gone. I fought off wild dogs with him for scraps of food. Later, when he returned to the royal court, the King asked me what reward I desired. A line of text appeared before my eyes, visible only to me: 【Don’t tell me the side character is actually going to ask the Prince to marry her.】 【A common huntress from the countryside, daring to dream of marrying into the royal family? No wonder she ends up being forced to drink poison.】 So, marrying the Prince was that dangerous. I shivered, hiding the small sachet he had given me, and bowed my head to the stone floor. “Your Majesty, all that Edith asks… is to be sent back to my home in the Northern March.” 1 The King was silent for a long moment. “Is that all you wish for?” I thought about it, then answered honestly. “If it’s not too much trouble, a little money and a large house would be nice, too.” I peeked at the King’s expression and quickly corrected myself. “A small house would also be fine.” It was just that a small house wouldn’t have room for chickens and ducks, or a trellis for my climbing flowers. Silence fell over the throne room. Everyone had assumed I would demand the Prince marry me. After all, the Northern March was a harsh and unforgiving land. If I hadn’t found Prince Drake, gravely wounded and without memory, in that mass grave, he would have frozen to death that winter. A debt for a life saved is a heavy one. Even the King hadn’t expected my wish to be so… simple. The text before my eyes erupted into a chaotic argument: 【I didn’t expect the side character to be so decent. My heart aches for her.】 【It’s just a tactic, feigning retreat to advance later. All the scheming second female leads are like this.】 【If the side character is gone, the main female lead and the Prince can finally be together.】 【But the Prince is the devoted second male lead! If he gets the girl, what happens to the main male lead?】 The King told me to wait one month. “The Border Legion is preparing to depart. You may travel with them back to the Northern March.” “Edith,” he said, his expression unreadable, “you have been wronged.” But I didn’t feel wronged at all. “I have fine clothes to wear and good food to eat. Edith is already very content.” As for the Prince… I touched the sachet, a pang of sorrow in my chest. I’d just have to eat a few extra bowls of stew. The sadness would pass. 2 As I was leaving, the Lord Chamberlain, the head of the palace staff, pressed a food box into my hands with a benevolent smile. “His Majesty said you are too thin, my lady. Eat more to build up your strength. On the day you depart, he has a special gift for you.” I accepted the King’s decree and happily headed out of the inner palace. A cat suddenly darted out in front of me, and I stumbled, spilling soup and broth all over myself. A woman’s light laugh drifted from nearby. “A peasant from the countryside. Even dressed in fine silks, you still manage to ruin them.” I looked up. A group of noble ladies were watching me from a distance, but none came forward. The magical text flared with excitement: 【Ah, the female lead is here! I love a pampered, arrogant noblewoman.】 【I’m voting for the Prince. This kind of forbidden ‘sibling’ romance is the best.】 【How can someone so cruel be the female lead? She should eat something better for her soul.】 The one who had spoken was Lady Jasna. According to the text, her parents had sacrificed their lives to save the King during an assassination attempt years ago. Taking pity on the orphaned child, the King had brought her to court and raised her as his own daughter. She was the one who had been closest to Drake during his youth. Jasna’s gaze was contemptuous, like she was assessing livestock. “She has some beauty, I suppose. No wonder she managed to seduce my dear ‘brother’ Drake.” My thin summer gown was soaked, clinging uncomfortably to my body. I stood there in embarrassment, not knowing what to do. A handmaiden rushed forward with a cloak, but Jasna stopped her, taking it herself to place around my shoulders. “Edith, do you truly believe Prince Drake will marry you?” she whispered in my ear, her fingers digging into an old wound on my shoulder. “The whole capital is talking about how you fought with dogs over scraps of food with the Prince. The rumors are everywhere. If I were you, I would have left long ago, instead of shaming His Highness in the capital.” She thought I had come to the King to demand a royal marriage. The pain was so sharp that tears welled in my eyes. I couldn’t help but push her away. “He wouldn’t!” I snapped. Drake would never think I was a disgrace. I hadn’t pushed her hard, but Jasna stumbled back dramatically, falling to the ground. A sharp stone on the path cut a long, bloody gash in her arm. “Lady Jasna!” The courtiers panicked. Drake arrived just in time to witness the scene. He rushed to help Jasna up, his eyes blazing with fury. “Edith! You presume upon the debt I owe you to act with such arrogance? Now you dare to harm the Lady Jasna herself!” “It wasn’t me…” I tried to explain, my voice small. “Brother, don’t blame Edith,” Jasna said, clutching her bleeding arm as if defending me. “She grew up without guidance. It’s only natural for her to be a bit… savage.” Drake wrapped an arm around her, his gaze on me turning to ice. “Do you think this is still the wilds of the North? You have no manners, no breeding. What’s the difference between you and a beast?” “Apologize to Jasna. Or get out of my sight.” His words struck me like a slap. My eyes stung, and a dull ache spread through my chest. So that’s how he saw me. He was ashamed of me too. I lowered my head and apologized to Jasna. Jasna turned away, tugging on Drake’s sleeve. “Brother, please, don’t force her.” Drake’s brow furrowed in anger. “Is that how you apologize?” Before we came to the capital, Drake had personally taught me court etiquette. “The capital is full of rules, Edith. You must be careful. You can’t be so carefree.” At the time, I had been practicing a clumsy curtsy. I grew nervous, wringing my hands. “What if I don’t learn it right? What if I really offend a noble?” Drake had smiled and gently smoothed my messy bangs. “Then you offend them. You are my savior, Edith. Who would dare to say a word against you?” Thank goodness I remembered all the rules in the end. I knelt properly on both knees, my forehead touching the sharp gravel of the path. “My Lady Jasna, this peasant deserves death for her crime. I beg for your mercy.” The stones were sharp. Soon, my forehead was a bloody mess. Drake’s expression flickered. “Edith, you don’t have to—” But Jasna tugged on his arm, crying, “Brother, it hurts.” And so, he said no more. The palace path was silent. I tried to be optimistic. The King had told me to keep my departure a secret, especially from Drake. A few bows were a small price to pay. I couldn’t let Drake throw me out. If he did, there would be no one to take me home. Before I fainted, I saw Drake say something to me. But I was in too much pain to hear. 3 In my dream, I was back in the Northern March. The winters there were brutal. When I first found Drake, my own pot was empty. The villagers urged me to leave him. “Edith, you’re about to starve yourself. What are you doing with him?” I was stubborn as an ox. “This is how my father found me. It’s a life. I can’t just leave it.” In the end, Old Matty, my neighbor, couldn’t bear to watch and gave me a bowl of thin rice porridge. I drank half and poured the rest down the throat of the blue-lipped Drake. He survived. But when he woke, he knew nothing but his name. The snows had blocked the mountain passes, and we couldn’t hunt. We were freezing and starving in my little cabin. Drake snuck out and returned in the middle of the night with a pouch of shriveled grain. I asked him where he got it. He grinned proudly. “I climbed two mountains and raided a field mouse’s burrow. Impressive, right?” His fingers were red and raw. The next day, they were covered in chilblains, itching terribly by the fire. I worried he would scratch them open, so I wrapped them carefully in strips of cloth. We survived the winter. I took him hunting in the mountains. Drake was a natural, learning everything instantly. The mountains were full of wild beasts. One day, we were carrying a rabbit back when we were cornered by a pack of feral dogs, their eyes red with hunger. I told Drake to drop the rabbit, but he stubbornly protected it. “No. This rabbit will feed us for two days.” We ran for miles before we finally shook off the pack. We stood there, covered in blood, clutching our hunting knives, and shared a weary smile. I cooked the rabbit that night, the tender meat mixed with hot peppers. The spice made Drake’s eyes water, but he didn’t leave a single drop of the broth. On the day of the Midwinter Festival, he shyly handed me a small sachet made of rough cloth, the stitching clumsy. “Edith, will you marry me?” I pretended to be calm and nodded. “Alright.” But I couldn’t suppress the smile that spread across my face. Soon, even Old Yeller, the dog at the village entrance, knew that Edith the foundling was getting married. Edith was going to have a family again. It was a tradition in the North that before a wedding, the couple would present a pair of carved wooden dolls to the spirits to bless their union with peace and happiness. I secretly learned how to carve from the villagers, getting several blisters on my hands, wanting to surprise Drake. But before the wedding, Drake disappeared. I thought a tiger had gotten him. I searched the entire mountain, weeping, and in my distress, I fell into a boar trap. An old hunter rescued me, but I was left with a deep scar on my shoulder. The next time I saw him, he was being escorted back to the capital by the Border Legion. The Crown Prince had returned. “Drake, will you come back to see me?” I clutched the cloth sachet, a sudden sadness gripping my heart. Drake sat on his horse, his silk robes finer than anything I had ever seen. They clashed terribly with the shabby sachet. The wooden doll hidden in my sleeve suddenly felt too crude to give him. He reached out a hand to me, his eyes gentle. “Edith, come with me.” “The capital is vast. There is so much good food and so many fun things to do. I can give you anything you want.” As if possessed, I took a step back and shook my head firmly. “No, Drake. This time, I won’t go with you.” 4 When I woke up, my cheeks were cold with dried tears. The handmaidens were gossiping by the window. “I heard the Lady Jasna’s arm will scar. She cried all night. In the end, His Highness gave her the Jade Scar Ointment left by the late Queen. That finally placated her.” “And it’s all because of the one in this room. Even when she’s in the wrong, the Prince is willing to clean up her messes. She’s just a huntress, but she’s so lucky.” Everyone said Edith was ungrateful. The Prince’s favor wasn’t enough for her; she dreamed of soaring into the sky like a golden phoenix. But all Edith wanted was to go back to the mountains of the North and be a free little bird. A thick bandage was wrapped around my forehead. I touched it. The knot was tied the way I had taught Drake. “You’re awake?” Drake was leaning wearily against the bed, dark circles under his eyes. He must have been up all night. “Drake, you should go back.” I urged him softly. I knew the Prince was very busy. He shouldn’t waste his time here. But Drake seemed to misunderstand. “Edith, are you still angry with me about Jasna?” “Jasna has agreed to forgive your disrespect, on one condition. You must personally hunt a white fox for her.” “And once Father issues the decree for our marriage, you will live with me in the Crown Prince’s palace. No one will be able to wrong you then.” The text scrolled rapidly: 【The Prince still has feelings for the side character. He’s even willing to humble himself and plead with the female lead for her.】 【He’d be dead without her. Now he says a few words for her and he’s patting himself on the back?】 【This is hilarious. All her suffering is caused by the Prince. I support her running away.】 I picked at the embroidery on the duvet and mumbled my agreement. “Fine.” I was leaving anyway. It could be my farewell gift to him. But my heart felt like I had bitten into an unripe plum, sour and bitter. Drake sighed in relief, explaining with rare patience, “Jasna is different from you. Her parents are dead, and she grew up in the palace. Her temper is understandably short. But she is a Lady of the court, the last of the High Duchess’s bloodline.” “The honor of the royal family cannot be tarnished. This was a light punishment. Edith, do not fail my efforts.” I knew. A huntress, drifting through life like a weed, was different from a golden-leaved noblewoman. Just as Edith and Drake were different. After Drake left, I took out the crude wooden doll and carefully carved its features with my knife. A tear fell unexpectedly, and I quickly chided myself. It’s alright. It doesn’t hurt that much. Time could sweeten a sour plum. Time could also help you let go of someone and stop hurting for them. But I never expected that the fox Jasna wanted was pregnant. 5 As I hesitated, an arrow flew from the opposite direction. Without thinking, I aimed my own arrow at the ornate one. With a sharp twang, both arrows shattered mid-air. The white vixen, sensing danger, leaped into the undergrowth and disappeared. Drake frowned and signaled for his guards to surround the area and capture the fox. I stood in his way. Drake’s face darkened. “Edith, are you going to fight me over an animal?” I shook my head. “All living things have a spirit. A hunter does not kill a pregnant mother.” It was a code of reverence among the mountain folk. I had taught it to Drake once. He seemed to have forgotten. “Edith, do you despise me so much? Not only did you push me down, but now you deliberately let my favorite fox escape.” Jasna’s eyes filled with tears, and as her sleeve slipped, it revealed a thick bandage. Drake comforted her in a low voice, then rode closer, gesturing for me to give him my bow. “Edith, be good.” “I did nothing wrong.” I refused to yield. Jasna’s tears fell like rain. “I remember my mother used to make me a new fox-fur cloak every year. But now, I don’t have a mother anymore.” “If my mother were still alive, she would be heartbroken to see me injured.” Drake’s gaze on me grew even more disappointed. “Edith is disobedient and unruly. For offending the Lady Jasna, she is to be confined for seven days to reflect.” My bow was taken from me, and I was locked away in a villa like a captured animal. That night, Drake was dispatched to the southern provinces. He spoke to me through the barred window. “Edith, the capital is not the North.” “Even I cannot do as I please, cannot protect you at every moment. For my sake, can you please just curb your temper?” I looked up at him and said, word by word, “Drake, I never wanted to stay in the capital.” I only forced myself because I liked you then. I touched my heart. But it seemed I didn’t like him so much anymore. “Edith, don’t say things you don’t mean. When I return, we will be married, alright?” The royal decree had not yet been issued, and a sense of unease gnawed at him. But the North was a thousand miles away, the roads plagued by bandits. Where else could a lone girl like Edith go? The day after Drake left, my food supply was cut off. The villa was on the outskirts of the capital. No one dared to disobey Lady Jasna’s orders. The gates were chained shut. When she came to visit, I hadn’t had food or water for two days. A stinking fox pelt was thrown in my face, the blood matting my eyelashes. Jasna leaned against the door, a mocking smile on her face. “A beast’s life is a tough one. The little cubs cried for three full hours after I cut them out before they finally died.” She wiped her hands in disgust. “Just like you. Why won’t you just die?”

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1 At my own wedding, as my husband Alexis and I exchanged rings, my sister Gwyneth burst into the chapel, stark naked. “Jenny,” she cried, tears streaming down her face. “I know you think I’m trash, I know you cut up all my clothes to stop me from coming, but I promised you I’d be here to see you married, and I always keep my promises!” Alexis, furious that I had supposedly provoked my fragile sister, decided on a punishment. He sent me to Serpent Isle, the one place in the world I feared most. There, I was transformed. I became a serpent-woman, a living curiosity, a plaything for men with… unique tastes. Six months later, Alexis came to take me home. Our entire family praised my new, docile demeanor. Until, that is, I caught a rat and, to their horror, swallowed it alive. “The isle is a paradise!” Alexis raged. “It’s filled with harmless, gentle snakes! I sent you there for a little self-reflection, not for you to pull these disgusting stunts just to spite me!” Just then, the scent of a powerful male pheromone filled the air. An insatiable hunger gripped me. My eyes involuntarily shifted, the pupils narrowing into vertical slits. My body contorted into an impossible arc as I lunged toward the cool, scaled body of a massive python. — When my husband, Alexis, came to collect me from Serpent Isle, he made a grand spectacle of it, bringing all our friends and family along on his private yacht. I was dressed in a pure white dress and led out to meet their astonished gazes. Alexis’s face was grim. “Jenny, have you learned your lesson these past six months? I expect you to leave Gwyneth alone when we get back. Do not disappoint me again.” I flicked my tongue out, tasting the air, sampling the uninteresting scent of the man before me. Alexis’s eyes fixed on my red lips, and for a moment, he seemed taken aback. Then, a flicker of satisfaction crossed his face. “I’ve never seen this playful side of you. It seems the island’s beauty has truly cleansed your wicked heart. I’ve prepared a welcome-home party for you on the yacht.” He took my hand to lead me aboard the lavish vessel. The moment our skin touched, he flinched, nearly letting go. “The sun is so strong here, why is your skin so cold?” He frowned, his brow furrowed in concern. “This temperature… it’s not human. Are you sick?” His words were a meaningless drone. I couldn’t process his commands. As I stared blankly at him, Gwyneth rushed forward, her face a mask of anxiety. “Alexis, she’s been on the island for half a year. She’s acclimated. Of course her body temperature is different from ours.” The sight of Gwyneth sent alarms shrieking through my mind. My blood ran cold. “Hiss… Hiss…” A warning sound escaped my throat as I backed away from her. Under the confused and disturbed stares of the crowd, Gwyneth covered her face and began to sob. “Jenny… after all this time, you still hate me this much? You still wish I were dead…” Alexis immediately pulled Gwyneth behind him, his eyes blazing with fury. “Jenny! And here I thought you’d finally changed. It didn’t take long for your true colors to show.” “Gwyneth may have come from nothing, a charity case our family took in, but in her heart, she is a thousand times kinder and better than you will ever be!” His words were a death sentence. Suddenly, every finger was pointed at me. Even my own parents looked at me with bitter disappointment. “Jenny, this family’s entire fortune will be yours one day. Gwyneth asks for so little, just a place at our table. Why must your heart be so small, so unable to tolerate her?” The party meant to celebrate my return had become a trial to condemn my sins. I felt their malice pressing in from all sides. Overwhelmed by fear, I scrambled under a nearby banquet table to hide. “What, Jenny? A monster like you can feel fear?” Alexis’s voice dripped with contempt. “Who do you think you’re fooling with this pathetic act?” His hand landed on my shoulder, intending to drag me out from my hiding place. 2 Instead, his grip caught on the loose skin on my back. He tore off a whole sheet that hadn’t finished molting. I cried out in pain, rubbing my raw back against the deck, and scrambled deeper into the darkness beneath the table. Alexis’s pupils contracted as if he’d been struck by lightning. Forgetting himself, he dropped to his hands and knees, his face level with mine. When he spoke, his voice was strangled. “Jenny… what’s wrong with you? Why is your skin… peeling off like that? Are you hurt?” Gwyneth’s choked sob cut through the silence. “The sun on the island is relentless. Her skin is so delicate, it must be a terrible sunburn. It’s all my fault. If it weren’t for me, Alexis would never have been angry enough to send her here.” “It’s not your fault, dear,” my mother cooed, pulling Gwyneth into a comforting embrace. “Jenny is my daughter, but I can’t ignore the truth. She’s a grown woman. Does she not know how to stay out of the sun?” “I think she did it on purpose,” she added, her voice hardening. “She knew we were coming to get her, so she deliberately burned herself. A pathetic ploy for sympathy.” At my mother’s words, Alexis’s face turned to stone. He ignored my struggles, grabbing my ankle and dragging me out from under the table. The raw, bloody skin of my back scraped against the rough wood of the deck, sending agony shooting through me. Alexis didn’t even seem to notice. He just glared down at me, his voice cold. “Is this your master plan, Jenny? It seems you’re not only cruel to others, but to yourself as well.” “Think of all the horrible things you’ve done to Gwyneth over the years. You forced her to show up naked at our wedding! All I did was send you on a six-month vacation to a natural paradise. That’s barely a punishment at all!” I ignored him. The blood loss had left me weak, and a primal need for sustenance consumed me. Just then, a large rat scurried out from the yacht’s galley. The guests shrieked and leaped onto chairs. My eyes lit up. With a feral gleam, I lunged. As Alexis and my parents watched in stunned horror, I clamped my jaw around the rodent and, with a sickening gulp, swallowed it whole. “Ah!” my mother screamed, a sound of pure anguish. “Is that my daughter? Six months of isolation on that island and she’s lost her very humanity?” Alexis looked as if he might faint. “Jenny, I know you’re afraid of snakes. But Serpent Isle is beautiful, and the snakes there are harmless and gentle! I don’t care how angry you are with me, you can’t keep degrading yourself with these disgusting, self-destructive acts!” As if on cue, Gwyneth dropped to her knees and began slapping her own face, weeping hysterically. “It’s my fault! If it weren’t for me, she would never have become like this! Please, take her home! I’ll stay here on Serpent Isle for the rest of my life to atone for my sins, just so she can be happy!” My mother’s tears stopped. She pointed a trembling finger at me. “You wretched girl! You’d turn yourself into an animal, abandon every shred of human decency, just to drive Gwyneth away?” Alexis’s eyes were black pools of fury as he stared at me. A slow, chilling smile spread across his lips, sending a shiver down my spine. “You like pretending to be a snake, Jenny? Fine. Then let’s get you some snakes to play with.” He snapped his fingers. A moment later, one of his men appeared, holding a large canvas bag. He tossed it onto the deck in front of me. It writhed. “I know you’re terrified of snakes, Jenny. You can’t even look at a rope if it’s coiled the wrong way without freezing up.” He stared at me, his eyes gleaming with cold calculation. “Apologize to Gwyneth right now. Swear, in front of everyone, that you will never trouble her again. Or I will open this bag and let you experience the pleasure of dancing with serpents.” 3 When I didn’t respond, a flicker of pity crossed Alexis’s face, but it was gone as quickly as it came. “Lock her in the karaoke lounge with the snakes,” he commanded his men. “Don’t let her out until she begs for forgiveness.” They threw me into the glass-walled room, followed by the squirming bag. Alexis stood outside, arms crossed, confidently waiting for my screams. It was true, I used to be terrified of snakes. Even after the scientists at the Serpent Isle Institute had slowly, painstakingly remade my body, the sight of a snake still made me tremble. But then, to complete my conditioning, to make me forget I was ever human, they threw me into a pit. A pit with thousands of snakes and no other food. To survive, I had to hunt. To live, I had to become the predator. In that pit, it was kill or be killed, devour or be devoured. After two months in the pit, snakes were no longer a source of fear. They were a source of food. As I sank my teeth into a green viper, the reflection in the glass showed Alexis staggering back. “Jenny, are you insane? What are you doing…?” He didn’t understand. One small rat couldn’t possibly satisfy my hunger. This bag of colorful, writhing snakes was the greatest gift he could have given me. While Alexis and my parents watched, their faces masks of pure horror, I tilted my head back and swallowed the thrashing serpent whole. With a strangled cry, Alexis burst into the room. He tore the half-eaten snake from my hands and threw it aside, then pulled me into a desperate embrace. “That’s enough, Jenny. Stop it. Stop torturing yourself like this. Please, can we just stop?” I didn’t understand why he was taking my food. But the scientists at the Institute, desperate for funding, had pimped me out after my transformation. They made me service men with… special interests. I learned that to get food, to fill my belly, I had to make men happy. I parted my lips, letting my forked tongue taste the air, and obediently knelt before him. I tucked my hair behind my ears and reached for the buckle of his belt. Disbelief warred with something else in his eyes. His voice was a raw, broken rasp. “Jenny… what did they teach you on that island? Have you forgotten who you are? You are an heiress of this family.” He grabbed my hands, his face contorted in pain. “How can you use these hands—hands that have won national piano competitions, hands that are as graceful as a goddess’s—for something so degrading, so base?” His knuckles were white from the force of his grip. I didn’t understand, I only knew that he was hurting me, so I pulled my hands away. He was the one who sent me to this island. He was the one who allowed my body to be twisted into a shape that pleased others, my mind to be broken and remolded into that of a snake. Every part of me—my hands, my mouth, my body—had been forced to perform the most depraved acts just to survive. And now, he was calling me cheap. I stared at him, my gaze unwavering, and he couldn’t even meet my eyes. He pressed his lips into a thin line. “Find out,” he snarled to the empty air. “Find out what the hell happened to my wife on that island!” While we waited, he pulled me onto his lap, cradling my hands in his own, trying to warm them. He didn’t know that my blood had been replaced. That I was a cold-blooded creature now. He could hold me forever and never make me warm. Half an hour later, two of his bodyguards dragged the nanny who was supposed to have cared for me onto the yacht. “I entrusted my wife’s well-being to you,” Alexis said, his voice dangerously low. “Perhaps you can explain to me why, in just six short months, she has become this… thing. Not quite human, not quite snake.” The nanny trembled uncontrollably.

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At the final presentation for our startup incubator competition, Joss’s childhood friend, Hailey, demanded to be made team leader. She needed the extra academic honors it would grant to secure a full-ride scholarship to the graduate program. For the good of the project, I refused. She wasn’t qualified. In a fit of rage, she dropped out of the competition and let her parents drag her back to their dead-end town in the rust belt to be married off. I took the reins, and our team won first place. We all got offered spots in the MBA program, and our venture became the talk of the business school. Later, I married Joss. When our company went public, we celebrated on a yacht. As I stood by the railing, six months pregnant, Joss shoved me into the churning black water. He just watched as I drowned. I screamed, my lungs filling with saltwater, “Why?” His face was a mask of cold fury. “If you hadn’t been so selfish, if you hadn’t stolen that leadership spot from her, Hailey would never have been forced into that marriage. She wouldn’t have been beaten to death by her husband. This is what you owe her.” I opened my eyes again, and I was back. Back on the day it all began. … “Lila, please,” a familiar, cloying voice whined. “I’m just a few points short of qualifying for the Dean’s Fellowship. The team leader position in the incubator competition comes with a huge honors bonus. Can you just… let me have it?” The words hit me like a physical blow. I flinched, my eyes darting to the clock on the wall. I was back. I had been reborn into the exact moment Hailey made her demand. In my first life, I had considered the facts. Hailey wasn’t a business major. She had no experience. My parents had promised to invest in our project and connect us with industry titans for mentorship. I couldn’t risk it. I had to refuse her, telling her it wasn’t a good fit. I tried to soften the blow, explaining that if the team did well, we would all be recognized, maybe even all get fellowships. But she took it as a personal insult. A humiliation. She accused me of looking down on her, dropped out of university, and went home with her parents to be married off. After she left, I used my family’s connections to pull in a staggering amount of seed funding and resources. We crushed the competition. Our entire team was offered the Dean’s Fellowship, and we became rising stars in the tech startup scene. Three years later, I married Joss. By the time I was pregnant with our first child, Joss had taken over the reins of my family’s company, and our own startup had just gone public. He was on top of the world, a celebrated mogul. He suggested a private celebration on a yacht, just the two of us. Then, when my back was turned, he kicked me into the sea. The blood from my womb, from our child, blossomed in the dark water like a horrifying crimson flower. I begged him to save our baby, but he just laughed, a cruel, sharp sound, and hurled a heavy block of stone towards my head. “If you hadn’t been so damn selfish and forced Hailey out,” he’d snarled, his voice a venomous hiss, “she wouldn’t have been married off, pregnant, and beaten to death. You owe her this, Lila.” Only in my last moments did I understand. He had hated me, truly hated me, for all those years. “Lila?” Joss’s sharp voice pulled me back to the present. He frowned, grabbing my arm. “Did you hear us? Hailey needs this more than you do. Just give her the spot.” I wrenched my arm away, my gaze shifting from his impatient face to Hailey’s perfectly crafted expression of pitiful vulnerability. A cold, bitter laugh escaped my lips. “Let me get this straight,” I said, my voice dripping with ice. “When we were forming this team, didn’t we all agree? Whoever brings in the funding, whoever contributes the most, gets to be the leader. Now that I’ve secured the investors, you want to kick me to the curb?” Hailey’s eyes instantly welled with tears. “That’s not what I mean, Lila! I just want a chance to stay in school. I’m from a poor family… If I don’t get that fellowship, my parents will force me to go home and marry some old man. Please, just have some pity on me.” And then, for dramatic effect, she sank to her knees before me. The theatrical gesture immediately drew the attention of everyone in the common room. Classmates started to drift over, their curiosity piqued. Hailey, sensing her audience, began to sob even more pathetically. “Lila, I don’t want to go back to that dead-end town and marry some stranger! Please, don’t force me to drop out of school!” The onlookers, hearing her desperate plea, turned on me. “Lila, what the hell are you doing? Why are you trying to force her to drop out? That’s unbelievably cruel.” “Just because her family doesn’t have money doesn’t mean you can bully her like this!” “Wow, Lila. I knew your family was well-off, but I didn’t think you were the type to throw your weight around. This is disgusting.” Joss put a hand on my shoulder, his voice a low, patronizing murmur. “Lila, I know you can be a little… spoiled sometimes, but this is about Hailey’s entire future. You can’t ruin her life over something so small. It’s just a title. What’s the big deal? It’s not like it means that much to you.” His words ignited a firestorm in my chest. It’s just a title? When you all used my leadership as an excuse to dump the work on me, saying, “You’re the leader, you have to take responsibility,” it was more than a title then. All those all-nighters I pulled writing the business plan, where was Hailey? When I had to humiliate myself, begging for meetings with dozens of venture capital firms, drinking until I threw up at networking events to secure our funding, where was Hailey then? And now, with the finish line in sight, when she wants to swoop in and claim the glory, it suddenly becomes “just a title.” “I am not forcing her to do anything,” I stated, my voice dangerously calm. “And let’s be clear: I secured every dollar of our funding and every partnership we have. On what grounds does she deserve to replace me?” Joss scoffed. “Oh, stop acting like you’re the only reason we got funded, Lila. They invested because the team itself is brilliant. Because I’m on the team. Hailey could have done it just as easily. Hell, she probably could have raised even more.” Hailey blushed, looking up at Joss with doe-eyed adoration. “Lila, you can’t deny the strength of our team just to make yourself look more important. Everyone knows Joss is a financial prodigy. I’m sure the investors were betting on him, anyway.” Joss preened, puffing out his chest. “Hailey’s right. I was willing to let it slide before, but if you’re going to be this selfish and try to ruin her future, I won’t stand for it.” I met his arrogant gaze and smiled, a slow, chilling curve of my lips. “Fine. She can have it.” Joss’s face flooded with satisfaction. “See? That’s the Lila I know. You’re being reasonable. You’ll have plenty of other opportunities, but this is Hailey’s only shot.” I nodded agreeably. “Well then, good luck with your project.” Hailey, sensing I was about to walk away, panicked. “Lila, wait. Even though you’re not the leader anymore, you’re still part of the team. So… all the work you were doing? You should probably keep doing it.” I laughed, a sharp, incredulous sound. “Are you serious, Hailey? As team leader, I was responsible for over seventy percent of the project’s workload. You fought tooth and nail to take my place, and now you expect me to keep doing the lion’s share of the work? The audacity is staggering.” Hailey’s face paled. “That’s not what I meant… It’s just, the competition is almost over. It’s too late to change everything around now.” “Oh, I know,” I said, my voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper loud enough for the onlookers to hear. “You know the competition is almost over. That’s why you picked this exact moment to swoop in and steal the credit, isn’t it?” A ripple of understanding went through the crowd. Their expressions shifted from judgment to dawning realization. Murmurs of “schemer,” “user,” and “leech” started to circulate. Everyone had seen me running myself ragged for weeks, the first to arrive on campus and the last to leave. Hailey’s eyes filled with tears again, but this time, no one was buying it. Joss, ever her white knight, stepped in front of her, glaring at me. “Stop twisting her words, Lila! Hailey is just trying to do what’s best for the team. She’s the leader now, which means she’s in charge. You’ll do what she says. And if you refuse to follow orders, we’ll have no choice but to kick you out.” My eyes widened in mock horror, and then I burst into enthusiastic applause. “Excellent! Consider me gone. I quit.” Joss froze, his face a picture of disbelief. “Lila, don’t be impulsive. Hailey is a good person. She won’t hold a grudge against you. If you walk away now, you’ll regret it.” A genuine, carefree smile spread across my face. “Regret it? Oh, I don’t think so. I’m out. From this moment on, I have absolutely nothing to do with you or your little project.” Without a backward glance, I turned and walked away, leaving their stunned, ugly faces behind me. A startup? Who needs the stress? Why grind my life away starting a business from scratch when I could just go home and inherit a multi-billion-dollar corporation? Sure, Joss was talented. Especially after my family had unknowingly funded his rise, burnishing his reputation until he was a golden boy in the finance department. But right now? He wasn’t the legend he would become. His name alone couldn’t open doors or command millions. The investment I had secured wasn’t for him. It was just pocket money from my uncles, a little something to keep their favorite niece happy while she “played” at being an entrepreneur. That evening, I posted a simple update to my private social media story: “Stepping away from the incubator project. On to new things!” The comments from my family flooded in immediately. One uncle wrote: “Quitting already, sweetie? Don’t worry, you can ‘start’ as many businesses as you want. Your dad and us uncles have plenty of cash for you to play around with. Failure is just part of the game!” Another chimed in: “Wait, you’re not doing the startup anymore? Guess I’ll pull my investment then.” My cousin, Maria, who went to the same university, saw the post and added a comment explaining the whole sordid story of how I was bullied into quitting. The comment section exploded. My uncles, furious, declared they were pulling their funding that very night and threatened to blacklist Joss and his little group from ever getting a dime from anyone they knew. I didn’t stop them. The next day, I went to class as usual. With the weight of the competition off my shoulders, I felt lighter, free to focus on my actual studies and prepare for grad school applications. After class, I got a call from my father. He wanted me to draft a proposal for a small partnership deal he was considering. It was a common exercise he gave me, a low-stakes way to learn the ropes of the family business. That afternoon, I took the finished proposal to my father’s office at the Grant Corporation headquarters. He read it over, a pleased smile spreading across his face. “Excellent work, Lila. Sharp and concise.” As I was leaving the skyscraper, someone bumped squarely into me. I looked up. It was Joss. His eyes fell to the file in my hands, and a smug grin lit up his face. “Lila. I knew you couldn’t stay away,” he said, his voice oozing with condescension. “You knew we had a meeting at Grant Corp today, didn’t you? Did you prepare this new proposal for us?” He reached for the file, but I sidestepped him smoothly. “You’re mistaken. This is for me.” His brow furrowed. “Stop playing games, Lila. If you’re not giving it to us, what are you going to do? Start your own company?” I paused. The thought hadn’t even occurred to me. But… he was right. I had done almost all the work. I had the plan, the connections, the drive. Why couldn’t I? A slow, dangerous smile spread across my face. “You know what, Joss? That’s a great idea. I think I will.” And with that, I walked away, ignoring the string of angry, sputtering curses he hurled at my back. Three days later, I officially submitted my own solo project proposal to the incubator program, with all the original funding now redirected to me. As I was leaving campus that afternoon, Joss and Hailey blocked my path.

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I had been in a coma for three years, a sacrifice I made to save my brother and his three best friends. When I finally woke up, my parents, my brother, and the three boys who were my childhood protectors swarmed my bedside, their excitement a frantic whirlwind. But I met their joy with a cool detachment. I knew the truth. I knew that when the hospital called to tell them I was awake, they didn’t rush to my side. They stayed to finish celebrating their adopted daughter’s birthday party first. In the three years I was gone, a new girl had quietly taken my place, inheriting my life, my family, my everything. A whisper of a memory, a premonition from my long sleep, had warned me of this. It told me I was destined to become the villain of this story, a girl consumed by jealousy, fighting to win back the affection of my family. A girl who would be despised by everyone and ultimately bring about her own tragic end. A cold smile touched my lips. Fight for them? No, thank you. A family and friends like that? I’d rather have nothing at all. 1 The television in my hospital room was broadcasting live from the lavish birthday party of the Rhodes family’s new “little princess.” The young heirs of the city’s most powerful families—the Reeds, the Greys, the Shaws—were all in attendance. Four handsome, impeccably dressed young men surrounded a beautiful girl, singing to her, a perfect portrait of adoration. It was a scene straight out of a fairy tale. I stared at the familiar faces on the screen. My father, my mother, my brother, and the three boys who were once my entire world. They already knew I was awake. The nurse had called them from my room, right next to my bed. My father had answered. Yet, there they were, their smiles serene, their focus entirely on the party, ensuring it reached its perfect, sparkling conclusion before they even thought of me. The nurse had just finished a round of physical therapy with me, and I was settling back into bed to rest when a frantic pounding of footsteps echoed from the hallway. The door to my room burst open, shattering the quiet. “Rory!” “Rory, you’re finally awake!” A sea of emotional faces, a torrent of relieved words, all painting a picture that my waking was the most important event in the world. If I hadn’t just seen their gentle, devoted gazes fixed on another girl on that television screen. If they hadn’t taken so damn long to get here. Maybe then I would have believed they were still the same parents, the same brother, the same boys I once knew. My expression remained flat. I shifted my gaze to the girl standing hesitantly in the doorway, still wearing the beautiful white dress from the party on TV. My mother noticed my stare and quickly, gently, beckoned her forward. “Rory, darling, this is your sister, Celine. She’s the daughter of your father’s dear friend who passed away. We adopted her three years ago.” “These past three years… if it weren’t for Celine keeping us company, I don’t know how I would have survived the grief,” Mom said, her voice thick with emotion. “That’s right,” Dad added with a heavy sigh. “Celine was like a gift from heaven during our darkest time.” My brother, Alex, smiled warmly at her. “Celine, now you have an older sister. Go on, say hello.” Celine looked at me, her eyes shining with what looked like genuine emotion. “Sister, I’m so happy you’re finally awake. Mom, Dad, and Alex have been so worried. I’ve always said, if my sister waking up meant I had to leave this family, I would do it in a heartbeat.” “Celine, don’t say such silly things,” Mom chided, pulling her into a tight hug. “You are never to talk about leaving the Rhodes family, do you hear me? You are a part of this family. And now you have a sister to look out for you.” “She’s right, you silly girl. No one is ever making you leave,” Dad added, his voice full of affection. “You’re always talking about leaving. Don’t you want us anymore? You’d break our hearts,” Alex said with a mock-pout. “Alex, of course I want you all!” Celine blushed, stamping her foot playfully, which made everyone chuckle. “And if anyone in the Rhodes house gives you a hard time, you come straight to me. I’ll still treat you like a princess,” said Caleb Reed, one of my three childhood friends. “Hey, what about me? Why does she have to go to you?” Julian Grey chimed in with a huff. “Celine likes me best, so obviously she’d come to my place,” Leo Shaw declared. “Get lost, who said she likes you best!” the others jeered. “Alright, you can all stop dreaming. Celine is our family’s princess. No one would dare bully her,” my brother, Alex, announced proudly. My parents just smiled and shook their heads. Celine, blushing, leaned against my mother. And just like that, in my hospital room, the universe shifted to revolve around her. I, the girl lying in the hospital bed, was a mere afterthought. I turned my head away, bored, just in time to catch the look Celine shot me over my mother’s shoulder. It was a look of pure, unadulterated triumph. 2 I used to be the Rhodes family’s little princess. My brother and the three boys—Caleb, Julian, and Leo—loved to dote on me. They called me their little sister, their princess, and swore they would always protect me. If anyone ever dared to bully me, they’d make them pay. I grew up wrapped in a cocoon of love and affection. That’s why, three years ago, when a horrific car crash left my brother and the boys bloodied and unconscious, I, the only one who had worn a seatbelt, was the only one with minor injuries. I saw the car leaking gasoline, saw the first flicker of flames, and knew what was coming. Sobbing, screaming their names, I dragged them one by one from the wreckage. But I wasn’t strong enough to get them all clear of the danger zone. I looked at these boys, my protectors, the ones who had cherished me my whole life, and made a decision. My body trembling with a fear so profound it was paralyzing, I climbed into the driver’s seat of the mangled car. I slammed my foot on the gas, the nearly destroyed vehicle lurching away from them. When I finally brought it to a stop a safe distance away, I scrambled out, trying to run. It was too late. The force of the explosion behind me threw me into darkness. During the three years I was unconscious, I lived in a long, vivid dream. I dreamed that my family adopted a girl my age. At first, when she tried to touch things in my room, my brother would stop her, telling her those were his sister’s things and no one else could touch them. At first, the three boys ignored her, saying the only little sister they had was Rory Rhodes. But slowly, everything changed. The girl’s fragile, helpless, and eager-to-please act began to worm its way into their hearts. Their weekly visits to my bedside became monthly, then quarterly. The last time they came before I woke up in the dream, half a year had passed. They were too busy taking the new girl to amusement parks, to see the Northern Lights, helping her with her studies, celebrating her birthday… Then, in the dream, I woke up after three years. They arrived late, with the girl in tow. Having been spoiled by their affection my whole life, I watched them fawn over Celine at my bedside and angrily demanded she leave my room. But in that moment, no one cared about the feelings of a girl who had just woken from a coma. They spoke gently, but their words were firm, urging me to accept my new sister. After that, Celine framed me for one thing after another. They never listened to my explanations. They always believed her, scolding me for being difficult, expressing their deep disappointment in me. They had once spoiled and protected me, but when I, wronged and hurt, acted out with the same stubbornness they had once found endearing, their faces now held only disappointment and disgust. The last time, unable to bear it anymore, I ran out of the house and straight into the path of a car, ending my short, ridiculous life. When I woke up for real this time, I found that everything was happening exactly as it had in the dream. They had adopted a girl named Celine. They hadn’t rushed to the hospital upon hearing I was awake; they had finished her birthday party first. In my room, the focus had instantly shifted to her. I understood then. The dream wasn’t a dream. It was my past life. And this time, I had to change my fate. My father seemed to suddenly remember I was there. He turned to me, his voice gentle. “Rory, are you feeling uncomfortable anywhere?” All eyes turned back to me. I looked at the crowd around my bed and smiled faintly. “I seem to recall that three years ago, I was the one who saved my brother and the three of you, correct?” 3 My question hung in the air, making them all pause. They seemed to think it was something that didn’t need to be said aloud. It was understood. That’s why they had rushed to the hospital in such a panic, wasn’t it? “Of course, Rory. You were so brave that day. We’re all incredibly grateful to you for saving our lives,” Alex said softly. Caleb and the others nodded in agreement. “Sister, thank you. Thank you for saving Alex, Caleb, Julian, and Leo. Because of you, I get to see them standing here, whole and healthy. I don’t know how I can ever thank you enough. If you needed my life in exchange for yours right now, I would give it willingly,” Celine said, grabbing my hand, her voice fervent and emotional. As she spoke their names one by one, the four boys looked at her with such tenderness it was practically pouring from their eyes. My own eyes held a flicker of irony. I gently pulled my hand away. “Don’t worry. I just woke up. Your life is of no use to me.” Their brows furrowed slightly at my words, a hint of displeasure in their expressions. I just looked at them. “In that case… could you perhaps convert that gratitude into cash? A million dollars from each of you would be enough. Is that okay?” They all stared at me, stunned again. “Rory, why would you say something like that the moment you wake up?” my mother said, frowning. “You’re a Rhodes. Do you really think you’ll ever have to worry about money?” “That’s right, Rory,” my father added gently. “The most important thing right now is for you to recover. When you come home, you’ll be the young lady of the house, living a life of luxury. You know that.” Another flash of irony in my eyes. In my dream, I hadn’t cared about these things at first. I never brought up what I did three years ago; it felt too transactional for people who were supposed to be my family. But after I returned home, they used my “bullying” of Celine, my “mistakes,” as an excuse to cut off my allowance, to freeze all my expenses, time and time again. I couldn’t even pay for school activities. They punished me whenever they pleased. My life was miserable. So if I didn’t secure a few million for myself now, the monumental act of saving their lives would soon be erased, canceled out by each and every time I “hurt” their precious Celine. In my dream, that voice had offered to help me, to help me win back the love of my parents, my brother, my friends. I had refused it. I had no desire to fight for such fickle affection. I spoke again. “I was in a coma for three years. I’m eighteen now. I’d like to have some money of my own, so I can buy whatever I want, whenever I want. Just to spend it recklessly for a while. Is that okay?” Hearing this, their expressions softened slightly. “Sister, Mom and Dad gave me some pocket money, it’s almost a million dollars. Why don’t I give it all to you? I’m so happy I can finally do something for the boys!” Celine offered, her face bright with eagerness. “Celine.” Alex shook his head with an amused smile. “We don’t need you to use your allowance.” “What a silly, sweet girl,” Julian said, lightly tapping her on the head. They all smiled and shook their heads. “I just wanted to do something for you guys…” Celine mumbled, sticking out her tongue playfully. My mother hugged her dotingly. In the end, of course, they each gave me a million dollars. And I would make very good use of this four million. I would not end up isolated, helpless, and miserable like I did in the dream. 4 After half a month in the hospital, my body had recovered to a normal state, and I returned to the Rhodes family home. “Rory, look at this room. Celine specially gave it up for you. She even put her favorite little bunny on your nightstand,” my mother said gently, leading me into the room. Gave it up. The phrase was laughable. This was the room I had lived in since I was a child. After being in a coma for three years, I now needed someone else’s permission to live in it. I smiled. “Thank you so much, sister. But since you’re already used to living here, I wouldn’t want to force you out. It’s better if you just find me another room.” My mother paused, seemingly taken aback by my politeness. “It’s okay, sister. This room is the biggest and brightest. It should be yours,” Celine said, stepping forward with a considerate expression. My parents and brother were already accustomed to Celine’s sweet and sensible nature, their gazes soft with affection. I shook my head again. “You’re already settled in. Why should you have to move out just because I’m back? If I took your room like this, Mom, Dad, and Alex would surely blame me for being inconsiderate.” I remembered in my dream, Alex had blamed me, saying Celine was suffering from insomnia and stress after giving up her room for me, yet I was still giving her a hard time. Ha. “So please, just give me another room. Or, I could even stay in the maid’s quarters. Anything is fine, as long as my sister isn’t put out,” I said, pre-empting any future accusations that I was making Celine feel wronged. They all hesitated, sensing something was off about my words but unable to pinpoint what it was. “Sister, I wouldn’t feel wronged at all, I—” “Then you should just stay put. You’re the little sister everyone adores, after all,” I interrupted her. And so, I was given another room. … I was in my new room, studying intently. Celine knocked once, then opened the door without waiting for permission and walked right in. “Sister, you weren’t coming downstairs, so I brought you some fruit.” She smiled, carrying a plate towards me. I glanced at her. “Thanks. Just leave it there.” “Okay.” Celine agreed but walked directly towards me anyway. Then, as if by accident, the fruit plate slipped from her hands. “Ah!” She let out a loud shriek and stumbled backward, falling to the floor. “What’s wrong? What happened?” My father, mother, and brother rushed in. “Oh, Celine!” They hurried over to help the fallen girl. “Sniff… Mom…” Celine threw herself into my mother’s arms, looking panicked and frightened. “I… I was just worried sister was working too hard, I wanted to bring her some fruit…” They looked at the scene and immediately understood what they thought had happened. “Rory, Celine was being thoughtful and brought you fruit. If you didn’t want it, fine, but why did you have to push her like that?” Alex accused, frowning. “Rory, you can’t treat your sister this way! How could you do something like that?” my mother said, cradling Celine with a look of disapproval aimed at me. “Rory, apologize to your sister right now,” my father commanded. From the safety of my mother’s embrace, Celine shot me a triumphant, provocative look. 5 I simply turned my laptop screen towards them, and pressed play on the security footage from my room. They all froze when they saw the video. Celine’s face went pale. She hadn’t expected me to have a camera. “As you can see, I didn’t touch her at all. So I don’t believe an apology is necessary, is it?” I turned to Celine. “But I should probably remind you, sister, to be more careful when you walk next time. Try not to trip over your own feet again.” Celine’s expression shifted again. “I… I was just so nervous. I know sister has been very cold to me, and I know she resents me for staying in this family, for no longer being the only daughter.” “And I know she’s upset that I’m so close with Caleb and the boys, so whenever I see her, I get scared. I’m so afraid of making her angry that I just panicked and fell. Sob…” She buried her face in my mother’s shoulder, crying. “Mom, I’m so scared that sister blames me, that she thinks I’ve stolen everything that was supposed to be hers. That’s why she’s so cold to me…” My mother immediately began patting her back comfortingly. “Don’t think such things. You are our other daughter. How could you have stolen anything from Rory? My love for both of you is the same.” “You silly girl, always overthinking.” Alex shook his head in exasperation, then looked at me. “But Rory, I hope you truly don’t hold these things against Celine. We all love you just the same. You have been far too cold to her.” “Rory, Celine is a very good girl. You can’t be so willful,” my father added, his tone weary, as if everything was always my fault. I was already used to this from my dream—no matter what, as soon as Celine opened her mouth, all blame shifted to me, even moments after I had just been proven innocent. The anger and resentment I once felt had long since vanished. I smiled at them. “Why would Celine think that? I don’t feel like anything has been stolen from me. Unless… does Celine think she’s stolen something from me? I’m just a girl who’s woken up from a three-year coma. I’m still getting reacquainted with everything. That’s why my personality is like this. I’m the same with everyone.” Celine froze, her eyes darting around before she started crying again. “I… I’m just afraid sister doesn’t like me. I know I’m not a real Rhodes, I can’t compare to her…” And so, another ridiculous drama concluded with the Rhodes family comforting the heartbroken Celine. 6 My uncle’s family came to visit. He asked my parents if they were planning a recovery party for me, now that I was out of the woods. It seemed the thought had only just occurred to them, and they quickly agreed it was a great idea. On the morning of the party, Celine appeared at the breakfast table dressed in plain, simple clothes. My parents and brother were shocked and immediately rushed to her side. “Celine, what’s wrong? Why are you dressed like this?” my mother asked anxiously. Celine bit her lip and glanced at me, who was calmly eating breakfast. “Today is sister’s big day. She’s the star of the party. I don’t want to steal her spotlight, so I thought I’d dress simply.” “You foolish child,” my mother said, hugging her tenderly. “Even though today is a party for your sister, it’s a celebration for our whole family. You should look just as beautiful as she does.” “That’s right, Celine. Go change into a pretty dress. We want everyone to see the two beautiful Rhodes sisters,” Alex said with a smile. Celine continued to bite her lip and look at me. “But I’m afraid sister will mind… I don’t want to upset her and cause disharmony in the family…” Alex frowned at me. “Rory, Celine is your sister. You shouldn’t be bothered by things like this. Between sisters, there’s no such thing as stealing the spotlight.” “Exactly, Rory. As the older sister, you can’t think that way. Two sisters living in harmony is what people admire,” my father added disapprovingly. I took a sip of milk and looked at them. “Excuse me, but have I said that I mind anything?” They all froze. “Sister, I really don’t want to steal your spotlight. Please don’t be angry…” Celine said anxiously. Alex’s expression turned sour again as he looked at me. I smiled. “Sister, I hope you’re not overthinking things. I just woke up from a three-year coma, my brain isn’t fully functional yet. I really don’t have the energy to mind anything at all.” Celine paused, feeling as though her efforts were being effortlessly deflected. “As long as Rory doesn’t mind, that’s all that matters. Come on, Celine, let’s go upstairs with Mom and pick out a beautiful dress and some jewelry to match.” My mother gently led her pitiable daughter away. At the hotel ballroom, I looked at myself in the dressing room mirror. My body was thin and pale from the coma, but thankfully, I had almost reached my full height of 5’3” before the accident, so it hadn’t stunted my growth too much. I opened the door and walked out, only to see Celine with Caleb, Julian, and Leo in a small side lounge. “I really didn’t want to wear this dress. I think sister is a little upset, but Mom, Dad, and Alex all insisted…” Celine was saying. “Why would Rory be upset?” “Celine, you can’t always be the one to give in to your sister, you know?” “You should wear what you want to wear. You can’t let others dictate your choices.” They were all cooing over her. “It’s okay. Sister was in a coma for three years because she was saving you all. She’s been a little resentful of me since she woke up, probably because she thinks you’re all too nice to me.” “So I just want to use this opportunity to show her that I won’t compete with her for anything. I will only be grateful to her and serve her.” “Today, my sister will be the most radiant and beautiful one here. I will happily be her green leaf, just a part of the background…” Celine’s voice was so pitiful it could melt stone. “Celine! Don’t be ridiculous. We’re good to you because you deserve it. Rory was in a coma for three years, her mentality is probably still stuck in the past. She was always willful. You must have had a hard time at home.” “It’s true Rory saved us, but she demanded money the day she woke up, as if she was afraid we wouldn’t be grateful. So you don’t have to accommodate her for our sake.” “Even though today is your sister’s party and the focus is on her, you are always our focus, Celine.” I heard their words, let out a soft, contemptuous laugh, and walked away.

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The husband I’d buried seven years ago was standing in my living room. And he hadn’t come alone. He’d brought a woman with him, and he expected me to step aside, to simply hand over my life as his wife. “Jade almost lost her eyesight saving me,” he said, his voice laced with an infuriating mix of arrogance and impatience. “I’ve already promised to marry her. If you sign the divorce papers without a fuss, I’ll… let you keep living here.” I let the silence hang in the air for a beat before I spoke, my voice a calm, level thing. “Actually, I’m already married to someone else.” Tony rolled his eyes. “Don’t be stubborn, Nora. Everyone knows you’re head-over-heels in love with me.” 1 But I wasn’t the Nora from seven years ago. I was no longer that girl who had worshipped the ground he walked on, the girl who had debased herself for even a scrap of his affection. “I have no reason to lie to you. I’m married,” I repeated. Tony shot me a look of pure contempt, a sneer twisting his lips. “Nora, cut the act. I’m not here to ask for your permission. I’m telling you. Whether you like it or not, I’m marrying Jade.” The woman, Jade, tugged at his arm, her voice dripping with a cloying, false innocence. “Tony, honey, please don’t fight with… her. It’s my fault, I’m just bad luck. You should just send me back.” She made a show of turning to leave, but her hand remained firmly clamped on his arm. Her eyes, when they met mine, held a flash of triumphant possession. Just as she’d intended, Tony’s expression softened instantly. “Jade, don’t say that. You promised we’d be together forever.” He then shot a confident look back at me. “Don’t worry. Nora is crazy about me. She does whatever I say. We’ll get married, no problem.” Seven years, and his shamelessness had only grown more profound. Before I could even respond, he glared at me, his voice low and threatening. “You’ve enjoyed the title of Mrs. Ashworth for seven years. It’s time to let Jade have her turn. She’s suffered too much, and I won’t let you bully her.” A bitter, mocking smile touched my lips. “I haven’t done a single thing. Don’t you dare try to pin your drama on me.” Tony’s face darkened at my words. He studied me, his expression turning cold. “You think you’re so important? If it weren’t for the fact that you waited seven years for me, I would’ve kicked you out of this house without a second thought instead of wasting my breath on you.” Kick me out? He wouldn’t get the chance. And what on earth made him think I’d waited for him for seven years? The day he abandoned me at the altar was the day I gave up on him entirely. Seven years ago, I was sitting on my bed in a cloud of white tulle and silk, waiting for Tony to pick me up for our wedding. He never came. He ran. The car he was supposed to be in went off a cliff on the way. Only the driver survived. For seven long years, everyone thought he was dead. I picked out his gravesite myself. Marrying into the Ashworth family was a future my father had fought tooth and nail to secure for me. Tony could spit on the honor of my family, the Logans, but I could not. Besides, he wasn’t the only man in the Ashworth dynasty. In these past seven years, I’ve been a wife and a mother. If he hadn’t reappeared like a ghost, I would have forgotten he ever existed. So, seeing him now, my heart was a placid lake, without a single ripple of emotion. “Tony, let me be perfectly clear one more time. You and I are not husband and wife,” I stated, enunciating each word. “Legally, you are a deceased person. Who you choose to marry is none of my concern.” 2 Tony let out a dismissive snort. “Took you long enough to get the picture. 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 out for seven years.” So that was it. The driver had managed to jump from the car, and I’d always wondered how Tony, in the same vehicle, couldn’t have. It wasn’t a tragic accident. It was a disappearing act. He hadn’t changed one bit—still selfish, arrogant, and utterly devoid of responsibility. When the news of his “death” had arrived, his mother had fainted on the spot, falling into a sickness so deep she nearly followed him to the grave. His cruel words were overheard by the family butler, Mr. Harrison, who had just rushed in. “Young Master Tony, you mustn’t say such things.” He turned to Tony, his face pale. “She is now the wife of the President of Ashworth Corporation.” “The President’s wife?” Beside him, Jade’s eyes darted back and forth. “Tony, darling,” she asked, feigning innocence, “didn’t you say your grandfather would only ever pass the presidency to you?” Tony froze for a second, then stared at me blankly. “My father only has one son. Who else is qualified to inherit the company besides me?” I watched him, my expression unmoving. Did he leave his brain overseas? Did he have any idea how foolish he sounded? Mr. Harrison was sweating, wiping his brow with a trembling hand. “Young Master, what are you saying? The Madam is married to the Third Master. The Third Master is the President now. Don’t you remember? Your uncle, Sebastian.” After Tony had left me stranded, I had stood on the street in a daze, surrounded by the pointing fingers and pitying stares of strangers. That’s when Sebastian Ashworth had appeared. He said he would marry me. At that moment, I was lost, helpless. Everyone knew it was my wedding day, and my groom had died on the way to the church. Jinx. Black widow. Bad luck. Those words were nails pinning me to a cross of public shame. And then, a man offered to marry me, to prove to the world I was none of those things. He would save my family from disgrace and pull me out of the mire. Why wouldn’t I have said yes? Sebastian had never planned on attending his nephew’s wedding; he had only returned to the country at the behest of the old patriarch. Yet, fate had twisted our paths together. Tony looked at me with a mocking laugh. “Everyone in New York knows my uncle Sebastian is practically allergic to women. All he cares about is business. He wouldn’t give a desperate fangirl like Nora the time of day.” Sebastian was a legend in the business world, a true prodigy who had personally built half of the Ashworth empire. Within the family, he was treated with the reverence of a king. To this day, I still didn’t fully understand why he’d chosen me. There were so many women more beautiful and gentle than I was. The butler was still trying to reason with him. “Young Master, it’s the truth. You can check the news online, or ask anyone in the family if you don’t believe me.” Tony just scoffed. He pointed to a random gardener, then to a maid. They both gave him the same answer. His composure finally cracked. His face hardened as he glared at me. “Well, well, Nora. You work fast, don’t you? I’m gone a few years, and you’ve already got the entire household wrapped around your little finger, all of them lying for you.” I remained calm, refusing to get drawn into his delusions. My marriage to Sebastian was a fact, set in stone. Whether Tony believed it or not was irrelevant. He’d been spoiled rotten his entire life. Fearing he’d cause more trouble, the butler quickly had someone call Sebastian’s office. “Get the Third Master’s secretary on the phone, now! Tell him he needs to come home.” Sebastian was supposed to be in a major meeting about an aerospace project. The family patriarch and Tony’s mother were also out. Otherwise, Tony never would have had the chance to act so outrageously toward me. In the middle of the standoff, my son Leo suddenly ran into the room. “Mommy, why didn’t you come back to play with me?” 3 The moment Tony saw Leo, his face twisted into a mask of pure fury. It was undeniable. Leo was a miniature, masculine version of me. Tony’s gaze shot back and forth between me and the child. Finally, he raised a trembling hand and pointed at me. “You… you dared to betray me? You even have a… a bastard.” “Who is he?” he snarled. “Tell me whose bastard this is!” Leo, having inherited Sebastian’s temperament, didn’t quite grasp the meaning of the word, but he knew it wasn’t a compliment. He propped a hand on his hip, looking like a tiny, serious adult. “Who are you calling a bastard? My daddy says people with dirty mouths need a good spanking.” Leo was six. Everyone in the family knew him, but he’d never met Tony. “You little bastard, you dare talk back to me?” Tony spat. That was it. I saw red. The precious child I had carried for nine months, and this man dared to call him that, over and over. “Tony, you watch your damn mouth,” I said, my voice low and dangerous, “or you’ll regret it.” Jade, however, looked positively gleeful. “This child looks like he’s in elementary school, doesn’t he? Don’t tell me you were pregnant before you and Tony were even supposed to get married?” The accusation was meant to be a dagger to the heart. Tony’s eyes, when they locked on mine, were murderous. There is nothing a man despises more than his wife’s infidelity. Especially from a woman who had once claimed to love him and only him. “He’s six,” I said calmly. “Nora, you tramp!” he exploded. “I’m gone for seven years, and you not only find another man but have his child? Have you no shame?” Only seven years? We had only known each other for a few years before he took off for seven. And he was the one who abandoned me. Mr. Harrison rushed to explain. “Young Master, that is the Third Master’s son!” Tony’s anger boiled over. “You shut up! You traitor! Where are my parents? Who let her get away with this? Cheating on me and acting like she’s the one who’s been wronged!” “The entire Ashworth family, from top to bottom, knows about this,” the butler pleaded. At the time, Tony’s parents, wracked with guilt over his disappearance, hadn’t objected to Sebastian marrying me. This sent Tony into a full-blown rage. His eyes, like daggers, scanned the room. “Who’s the bastard’s father? Who dared to cuckold an Ashworth? Does he have a death wish?” No matter how hard he looked, he couldn’t find a single plausible suspect among the staff. I let out a cold, ironic laugh. Jade put on a concerned facade. “Nora, you should just confess. If you push Tony too far, even I won’t be able to help you.” I shot her a withering look. “We’re all vipers in this pit. Drop the act.” Before I could react, the world tilted. A sharp sting exploded across my cheek. Tony had slapped me. “Shut your mouth,” he hissed. “You have no right to talk to Jade like that, you shameless adulterer.” I hadn’t seen it coming. My cheek instantly began to throb and swell. Seeing me hit, Leo charged at Tony like a little bull. “You hit my mommy! I’ll kill you!” “Leo!” 4 Tony snatched him up by the collar of his shirt, lifting him off the ground. My heart hammered against my ribs. “Tony, put him down! Put the child down!” The other servants rushed forward. “Young Master, please, put the boy down!” “The Third Master will not forgive this!” Everyone in the house knew Leo was the apple of Sebastian’s eye, his absolute treasure. But Tony just sneered. “Get lost if you don’t want to get fired. Today, I’m going to teach this pair a lesson they won’t forget.” My stomach clenched. “Tony, what are you doing?” His face was a mask of ice, his aura suddenly frigid and terrifying. “According to the law, you committed adultery during our marriage and even had a child. I can demand you leave with nothing and compensate me for my emotional damages.” But we were never married. My hands began to shake with rage. “Tony, we were never married! How could I have cheated?” “Put my son down!” Leo’s little legs dangled and kicked in the air, but he wasn’t crying. He wasn’t afraid. The surrounding staff, intimidated by Tony’s threats, hesitated, only offering weak, useless pleas. Tony ignored them all. He shot me a dark, meaningful glance. “After I’m done with this bastard, I’ll deal with you personally.” With that, he started walking toward the door, still holding Leo. The staff exchanged helpless looks, but no one dared to intervene. Finally, Mr. Harrison, the butler, threw himself in Tony’s path. Tony’s face went black. “What? You dare to block me?” The butler, sweating profusely, bowed his head respectfully. “Young Master, let’s talk this through. Please, don’t be rash. Put the young master down.” Seizing the opportunity, I lunged for my son, but Jade grabbed me, holding me back. She was smiling, a look of pure triumph on her face. “Nora, what are you doing? Please don’t do anything foolish.” I spun around and slapped her so hard the sound echoed in the hall. “If anything happens to my son, I will make you both regret the day you were born.” Jade stumbled back dramatically, crashing into a nearby vase and cutting her head. The sight of her blood sent Tony over the edge. He directed all his fury at Leo. “You dare touch Jade? I’ll beat this little bastard to death!” He lifted Leo higher, poised to slam him onto the marble floor. For a split second, my heart stopped beating. I flew forward on pure instinct. “Leo!” Seeing his father’s madness, Leo, finally overwhelmed, burst into tears. “Get away from me!” Tony roared at me. “I’ll deal with you later!” I wrapped my arms around my son, clinging to him for dear life, refusing to let go no matter how hard Tony tried to pull me away. Finally, his patience snapped. He drew back his foot and kicked me squarely in the chest. The air rushed out of my lungs. I couldn’t breathe. Mr. Harrison and the others finally rushed in, trying to pull him off, but he threw them aside. “Young Master, stop! That’s your uncle’s wife!” one of them cried, clinging to his leg. Even with a man wrapped around his leg, Tony was trying to kick me again. And then, a voice from the doorway—cool, indifferent, and dripping with ice. “What, exactly, is going on here?” “You will all give me a reasonable explanation. Now.”

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