Author: Momo Chan

I was eight months pregnant when a stranger shoved me from a second-floor landing. I hit the ground in a spreading pool of my own blood. Frantic, my husband, Adrian, scooped me into his arms and raced to the hospital, summoning a team of top specialists to save me. Miraculously, they said, the baby was saved. But when I opened my eyes, both Adrian and my child were gone. I fought through the pain, dragging myself out of bed. I searched the halls, my leg, wrapped in a cast, screaming with every limping step. That’s when I heard them, their voices drifting from the cold, sterile doorway of the morgue. Adrian and the doctor. “Mr. Stone, the baby… he was still breathing. Why did you… smother him? He was your son!” “He was a mistake. He never should have been born. It’s better this way.” Adrian’s voice was ice. “Scarlett gave me a son yesterday. I promised her our child would be the sole heir to the Stone fortune. I won’t have another child competing with him.” So it was all a lie. The happy family, the perfect marriage—it was nothing but a delusion I’d built for myself. My life wasn’t a fairy tale; it was a cold, dark hell. Fine. If that’s how it was, I would leave. … The doctor’s voice was hesitant. “But you’re planning to pass Scarlett’s baby off as your own. What if your wife finds out?” “Newborns all look the same. She’ll never know. I’ll bring him to her in a moment. Get rid of the… body. And I need a dose of that new drug you mentioned, the one that causes permanent sterilization. I want you to give it to Elara.” The doctor was aghast. “Mr. Stone, you’ve already killed her child just to bring Scarlett’s into your home. Why must you do this to her, too? It’s too cruel!” A chill crept from the morgue, but Adrian’s words were colder still. “I made a promise to Scarlett. I promised our son would never suffer a moment of hardship, that he would never have to compete with siblings for my affection. Even though she’s married to another man, I will give her that peace of mind.” The doctor sounded desperate. “Sir, I have to warn you, that drug is experimental. It hasn’t even completed clinical trials. The side effects are severe. Can you truly do this to her?” Adrian paused, then sighed. “I have no choice. Elara will be waking soon. A hysterectomy now would raise too many questions. She’ll just have to endure it. I’ll make it up to her later, but I cannot risk her ever getting pregnant again.” Just then, his phone rang. He put it on speaker, and a man’s giddy voice filled the morgue. “Mr. Stone, the five million came through. Don’t you worry, I’m leaving the city now. Your wife will never know it was you who paid me to push her down those stairs. Heh heh.” Footsteps approached from within the morgue. I ignored the fire in my leg and stumbled back to my room. The image of my baby’s tiny, lifeless body in that cold room burned behind my eyes. I clutched my chest, tears splashing onto the pristine white bandages on my leg. It wasn’t an accident. My fall at the mall was an orchestrated event. My loving husband, clearing the way for his true love and their child. My baby hadn’t been saved. He’d been murdered. By his own father. To Adrian, my son and I were nothing but obstacles. “Ellie, you’re awake?” Adrian walked in, cradling a newborn. He smiled, sitting on the edge of my bed. “Look at our son. Doesn’t he look just like us?” He beamed. “Thank you, my love, for giving me such a beautiful boy. I swear I’ll be the best father in the world.” My gaze fell on the sleeping infant in his arms, and a fresh wave of pain ripped through me. He was wrong. No mother could fail to recognize her own child. The baby’s brow was all Adrian, but his nose, his chin… they were copied directly from Scarlett’s face. This was their son. My son was a cold corpse in the morgue. “Ellie, does your leg still hurt? Here, take some painkillers.” His voice was filled with the same gentle concern as always, a carefully constructed illusion meant to keep me docile. I looked at the pills in his hand, his words from the hallway echoing in my ears. “Adrian,” I whispered, my voice hoarse. “The pills are too bitter. Can I take them later?” You’ve already murdered my child. Please, at least leave me the ability to be a mother again. He hesitated for only a second before stroking my hair. “You’re a mother now, acting like a little kid,” he cooed. “You went through so much during childbirth, and your leg is in such pain. I’ve been sick with worry, I haven’t slept a wink. Please, Ellie, do it for me? I have to be a good dad for our little boy.” He held up a glass. “I put honey in the water. It’s sweet. Come on, let me help you.” No. That’s not my baby. That’s yours and Scarlett’s. He held the pills to my lips, leaving no room for refusal. The blood in my veins turned to ice. I closed my eyes and swallowed them dry, ignoring the honeyed water. I wanted no part of his cloying, deceitful sweetness. The drug acted fast. A fire ignited in my womb, a searing agony as if a blade was carving me open from the inside. Blood began to seep from between my legs. “Elara! What’s wrong?” Adrian shouted for the doctor as I screamed, the pain pulling me into darkness. Through a hazy fog of consciousness, I heard the doctor’s grim report. “Mr. Stone, the drug has caused massive, irreversible damage to her uterus. It’s… destroyed. She’ll never be able to carry a child again.” Adrian let out a long, heavy sigh of relief. When I opened my eyes again, his were red-rimmed, his face a mask of anguish. “Ellie,” he whispered, his voice thick with fake sympathy. “The doctor said you had a sudden postpartum hemorrhage. You… you won’t be able to have any more children.” He squeezed my hand. “Don’t be sad. We’re lucky we have Leo. He’ll grow up to take good care of you, I promise.” Leo? He’d already named Scarlett’s child? He dismissed the nurse, insisting on cleaning me up himself, despite his well-known fastidiousness. As he gently wiped away the blood, he told me his mother had been so excited to see her grandson that she’d already taken the baby home. By the time he was finished, it was late. I looked at his weary face and managed a weak smile. “I’m okay. You’ve had a long day. You should get some rest.” He kissed my forehead. “Alright. Wake me if you need anything. Tomorrow, we’ll go pick up Leo. The three of us will finally be a proper family.” Once he was sound asleep, I quietly picked up his phone. To prove his “loyalty,” he’d never set a passcode. What I never knew was that he had a dual-system interface. The password to switch systems was Scarlett’s birthday. The wallpaper flickered, changing to a photo of him and Scarlett from their university days. His chat list contained only one contact: Scarlett. I opened it, and a photo of her holding a baby stabbed me in the heart. “Adrian, look how beautiful our son is. He’s going to be as handsome as you when he grows up.” It was the same baby he had brought to my room. The further I scrolled, the colder my heart became. During my eight months of pregnancy, Adrian was constantly on “business trips.” I could count the number of days he’d spent with me on two hands. I hadn’t wanted to be a burden, so I’d endured the morning sickness and the lonely trips to the hospital by myself. Now I knew. The business trips were just an excuse to be with Scarlett, to care for her during her pregnancy. There were thousands of photos documenting every moment, from her first ultrasound to the delivery. Adrian cooking her special meals, taking her for walks, shopping for baby clothes. He’d even cupped his hands to catch her vomit when she was sick. He was by her side for every single check-up, his eyes gazing at her as if she were a priceless treasure. I had begged him, so many times, to help me choose a name for our baby. His replies were always terse and delayed. “Elara, a name is just a label. We can pick anything. I’m busy. We’ll talk about it after he’s born.” But for Scarlett’s baby, he had compiled a list of over a hundred names before she was even showing. “Scarlett, what about August? A future full of promise.” “Or Spencer? Scholarly and successful.” “No, let’s call him Leo. I don’t need him to be a genius. I just want him to be safe and sound, and to live a long, happy life.” After every one of her check-ups, he’d showered her with gifts—luxury jewelry, limited-edition sports cars. He’d even bought her a European castle to celebrate a smooth delivery. All I ever got was a text: “You did great, Elara. I have to go to a meeting.” The difference between being loved and not being loved was so stark, so brutal. My heart a hollow cavern, I put down the phone and booked a one-way ticket out of the country, for three days’ time. I lay back in the hospital bed, staring at the ceiling, my soul consumed by a grief so vast it left no room for sleep. The next day, Adrian had his assistant deliver a gourmet meal, just as he always did. I used to be so touched by his thoughtfulness, that even when he was away, he was thinking of me. But now, picturing him in an apron, bustling around a kitchen for Scarlett, I saw it for what it was: a perfunctory, meaningless gesture. Money is worthless in the face of true devotion. Seeing that I hadn’t touched the food, Adrian’s brow furrowed with concern. “Ellie, why aren’t you eating? Do you not like it?” “It’s nothing. I just miss the baby.” Adrian smiled. “Ah, you miss our little Leo. I miss him too. I never understood it before, but now that I’m a father, I don’t want to be apart from him for a second. He’s the most adorable baby in the world.” He continued, “Mom is over the moon. She’s throwing a little celebration at the manor. We’ll go pick him up in a bit.” I said nothing. I was leaving anyway. Let him have his fantasy. When we arrived at the Stone family manor, we were greeted by the sight of his mother and Scarlett cooing over Leo. Scarlett was dressed in a stunning designer outfit, looking radiant, with none of the fatigue of a new mother. My mother-in-law was spoon-feeding her bird’s nest soup while fussing over the baby. Scarlett saw me and spoke, her voice dripping with faux sweetness. “Oh, you shouldn’t spoil me like this, Mother Stone. People might think I’m your daughter-in-law. Elara might get jealous. She’s so frail. You should give the soup to her.” My mother-in-law’s gaze shifted to me. She took in my clothes—the same ones from the day of the fall, still stained with dried blood—and her face twisted in disgust. “Does my son not provide for you? Why are you dressed in such a cursed outfit? Are you trying to disgrace our family? Look at Scarlett. You’re both new mothers, but she’s a hundred times better than you. You’re so pathetic.” “You’re the one who couldn’t sit still, running around while pregnant. It’s a shame the fall didn’t kill you. And now you have the nerve to stand there looking pitiful. Thank God my grandson is alright, or I’d have Adrian divorce you on the spot.” She sneered. “You took medication knowing you had to breastfeed. If Scarlett weren’t here to help, my grandson would have starved because of you, you wretched thing! I’m officially adopting Scarlett as my goddaughter. From now on, she’ll call me ‘Mom,’ just like Adrian.” I knew she’d never liked me. She thought I was beneath her son, especially compared to the beautiful, charming Scarlett, his childhood friend. She had only tolerated me for the sake of her grandchild. Every encounter was laced with her barbs. Before, Adrian would always defend me. He was the one who had insisted we go to the mall that day, to buy gifts for the baby. But now, his eyes were glued to Scarlett, filled with an unmistakable, tender affection. Scarlett, holding Leo, walked over to him and playfully linked her arm through his. “Did you hear that, Adrian? Your mother has made me her goddaughter. My dear big brother, have you prepared a gift for your new little sister?” Adrian pinched her cheek with a look of helpless adoration. “You’re such a tease. Don’t call me brother.” Despite his words, he had his assistant bring in 92 different fur coats from every major luxury brand, each complete with matching accessories. “I know you love to look beautiful, but you’re still recovering. You can’t catch a chill. There are 92 days of winter, one for every day.” Scarlett beamed and planted a kiss on his cheek, giddy as a schoolgirl. “Wow, some of these are from next year’s collection! And they’re all limited edition! How did you get them so early? Adrian, you’re the best to me.” She glanced at me coyly. “But won’t Elara be upset that you’re giving me so many gifts?” Compared to the racks of glorious, priceless furs, my blood-stained clothes made me feel like a pathetic clown. Adrian started, as if just remembering I was there. “Elara, it’s not what you think. Scarlett’s used to living abroad. You know how… open they are there.” He stammered, “And the coats… I heard she also just gave birth, and her husband is away. We grew up together, I just wanted to…” His words were cut off as Leo began to cry. Scarlett gasped. “Oh dear, is Leo hungry again? Mommy’s coming, sweetie.” She turned to me with a look of mock apology. “Don’t get the wrong idea, Elara. I’m just so used to calling myself that with my own baby. Besides, Leo always seems to love it when I say it.” She started for the stairs, then swayed, collapsing against Adrian. “Adrian, I feel a little dizzy…” Without a second thought, Adrian shoved me aside and caught her, his face etched with panic. “What’s wrong? You must be weak from the delivery. I told you to rest! Come on, I’ll carry you upstairs.” My right leg, still in its cast, buckled under the force of his push. I crashed to the floor, a bolt of searing pain shooting up my leg. But Adrian didn’t even glance at me. In front of everyone, he swept Scarlett into his arms, baby and all, and carried her up the stairs. The roomful of guests stared at me with open contempt. “No wonder he spoils Scarlett. She’s not just beautiful, she’s kind enough to breastfeed another woman’s child. Not like this useless thing. She’s pathetic, can’t even handle a little pain in her leg. And taking pills while she’s supposed to be nursing? So selfish.” “She calls herself a mother? Scarlett acts more like Leo’s mother than she does. She clearly loves him more. And Leo even looks a bit like Scarlett. The baby must be ashamed of Elara too. What a shame Scarlett and Adrian never got married.” My mother-in-law, far from defending me, shot me a look of pure hatred. “What are you doing, lying there on the floor like a dog? If you’re begging, go do it on the street. We don’t feed useless, lowly women in this house.” “You don’t care about your son, and you can’t even keep your husband’s heart. I hear you can’t have any more children? My son must have had a lifetime of bad luck to end up with a wife like you. Get out of my sight. Just looking at you shaves years off my life.” Humiliation washed over me. I thought of the divorce papers I had already prepared, tucked away in my phone. I said nothing. I struggled to my feet and limped upstairs to the study. I printed the divorce agreement and tucked it into my bag, then went to find Adrian in the guest room. But they weren’t there. Only a nanny, rocking a well-fed, sleeping Leo. Confused, I heard a sound from down the hall. An unmistakable sound, coming from the bedroom I shared with Adrian. The door was ajar. Through the crack, I could see Scarlett, her blouse wide open, straddling Adrian’s lap. Her voice was a sultry purr. “Adrian, honey, I have too much milk. Leo’s appetite is so small, and I’m so full… it hurts.” “I’m so uncomfortable… Won’t you help me? Please?” Adrian hesitated. “Scarlett, don’t. You just gave birth two days ago. Your body can’t take it. You already risked so much having my child behind your husband’s back. I can’t hurt you again…” She pressed his head to her chest. “Silly Adrian. I’m not afraid, why should you be? Having your baby was my choice. My husband is never around, he’ll never know. Come on, be good to me. Don’t you want a taste?” He could no longer resist. He leaned in, his mouth covering hers, then moving lower. The sounds from the room grew more explicit. A wave of nausea churned in my stomach. I couldn’t watch anymore. I fled the house, stumbling down the stairs and out into the cold night air. The suffocating feeling finally eased as I gasped the fresh air, but the tears wouldn’t stop falling. Adrian, you knew I was downstairs. How could you do such a thing? In our bedroom?! I sat numbly by the door. I don’t know how long I was there before a foul-smelling liquid was poured over my head. Scarlett appeared before me, a triumphant, ugly smile on her face. “How does it taste, Elara? My son’s piss? And did you enjoy the show? The sight of Adrian lost in ecstasy over me?” So she had wanted me to see. “Tsk, tsk. Look at you now. Your son is dead, your leg is crippled… If I were you, I would have killed myself already. What’s the point of living?” “So what if you married him? So what if you had his child? For me, for my child, he smothered your son and made sure you could never have another.” “I even have a video of your son’s last moments,” she cooed, her voice poisonously sweet. “Want to see his little face go from red to purple? It’s quite the show.” I stared at her phone, at the screen where my baby was slowly, silently suffocating to death. My entire body shook with a rage that was cold and absolute. How could she speak of murdering a child so casually, so cruelly? I raised my hand to strike her. But she was faster. She produced a dagger and drew it across her own chest. Blood blossomed on her blouse. The dagger clattered to the ground as she let out a piercing scream. A split second later, I was shoved violently to the ground. Adrian was there, cradling a screaming Scarlett in his arms. He turned to me, his face a thundercloud of fury. “Elara, are you insane?!” Before I could explain, Scarlett burst into tears. “Adrian, I was just worried she’d be upset about me nursing Leo. I wanted to explain, but… but she said I was trying to steal her baby! She said she was going to cut off my breasts so I could never feed him again! I was just trying to help, I couldn’t bear to see him go hungry! How could she do this to me?” Adrian’s gaze fell on me, dark and menacing. “You’re the one who fell down the stairs and broke your own leg. Why are you taking it out on Scarlett? You took medication, you can’t nurse the baby. She was helping you, out of the kindness of her heart, and you attack her? You may not care about your child, but you won’t let anyone else care for him either?!” I’m not a good mother? I don’t care about my child? Tears of pure rage streamed down my face. “I’m not a good mother? And you? Why don’t you tell me why I fell down those stairs? Why don’t you tell me where my real son is? And what was in that medicine you forced me to take?!” Adrian frowned. “Leo is sleeping soundly in his room. And the medicine was for your leg pain. You know all this.” He sneered. “You fell because you were clumsy. There was a crowd of people there. Why were you the only one who got pushed? Don’t blame your own incompetence on Scarlett. You’re a mother yourself. How could you bear to harm another mother? Apologize to her. Now.” Yes. A crowd of people. Why was I the only one who fell? Looking at his self-righteous face, a laugh, hollow and broken, escaped my lips. This was my husband. A liar. A murderer.

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1 My brother Leo and I went to his fiancée’s house to pick her up for the wedding, but she refused to come downstairs, deciding to play games instead. “Camille,” she said, her voice dripping with challenge, “I won’t feel safe marrying into your family until you pass my obedience test.” I glanced at my lovestruck brother, Leo, whose eyes were pleading with me. I had no choice but to nod. First, the bride-to-be, Jessica, demanded I transfer $1,000 to each of her bridesmaids and all the gathered relatives as a “token of goodwill.” For my brother’s happiness, I gritted my teeth and sent the money. Second, she ordered me to kneel on the floor, wash her feet, and put on her wedding shoes. Seeing Leo on the verge of tears, I swallowed my pride and did it. “And for the third thing,” Jessica announced with a smirk, “we’ll have an exchange. I want you to marry my brother!” I refused on the spot. But Jessica was smugly confident. “Don’t follow the rules, and you can get the hell out of the Vaughn family. You’re just the adopted one. Don’t get ahead of yourself.” My own brother chimed in, twisting the knife. “She’s right, Camille. Mom and Dad adopted you. It’s about time you paid them back by helping me.” I almost laughed from the sheer audacity of it. The truth was, Mom and Dad had adopted him because they thought I was too lonely as a child! … The eyes of everyone in the room darted toward me. “I had no idea the Vaughns’ daughter was adopted. And here I was, so jealous of her, thinking she was born with a silver spoon in her mouth.” “Her adoptive parents must be saints. Look at her, decked out in designer brands from head to toe.” Jessica’s eyes glinted with envy, her words laced with acid. “What can I say? My future in-laws are just so generous, even to an adopted stray. They’re only putting my name on one of their properties, while she has several in her name already.” She shot me a look of pure contempt. “Some people have no shame, happily taking things that aren’t rightfully theirs.” I took a series of deep breaths, forcing down the fire in my chest. Today was Leo’s wedding day. I couldn’t be the one to ruin it. I told myself I’d try one last time. Forcing a smile, I said, “Jessica, please come downstairs. We’ll be late.” She slapped my hand away and spun to face Leo, her voice a shrill whine. “Leo, what is your sister trying to say? Is she looking down on my brother, or is she looking down on me? Didn’t you tell me you’re the one who calls the shots in your family? How can she refuse something so simple for our wedding?” Sparks flew from my eyes. Something so simple? And her brother? Did she have any self-awareness at all? The man was a total creep who looked to be in his forties, complete with a beer belly, a balding head, and a smile that revealed a mouthful of yellow teeth. Jessica wouldn’t let it go. “My parents worked so hard to put me through college, and now I’m supposed to slave away for your family for the rest of my life,” she sobbed. “Is it really too much to ask for you to give them a daughter in return?” She started crying hysterically. “It’s our wedding day, and your sister is already disrespecting me! I can’t imagine how she’ll treat me once I’m actually married into your family! Leo, if your sister doesn’t marry my brother, then this wedding is off!” The threat of cancellation sent my love-drunk brother into a panic. He rushed over to her, half-kneeling. “My darling, please don’t do this to me. I chased you for so long to win your heart. If we don’t get married today, I don’t think I can go on living!” Jessica shoved him away, and he stumbled to the ground. “Your sister refuses to complete my obedience test! I know she’ll make my life hell!” she shrieked. “I’m my parents’ precious treasure! Why should I have to put up with her abuse?” The inferno in my chest roared hotter. I dug my nails into my palms, trying to stay grounded. Leo clutched his back as he scrambled to his feet. He turned to me, his brow furrowed in annoyance. “Camille, what is your problem? What’s so wrong with you marrying Jessica’s brother?” “So what if he’s a little older? He’ll know how to take care of you! Are you looking down on their family’s financial situation? Mom and Dad gave you several houses, didn’t they? That’s more than enough for you to live on for the rest of your life!” “What?” he sneered. “Are you still dreaming of marrying some rich, handsome prince? Wake up, Camille! Your birth parents were nobodies from the countryside. What wealthy guy would ever seriously look at you?” He leaned in, his voice a low threat. “If you don’t agree to this, I’ll tell Mom and Dad you ruined my wedding. Believe me, they’ll kick you out on the street in a second.” In that moment, the last thread of my composure snapped. 2 I dropped the purse Jessica had made me hold and stormed toward the door. “I don’t care if this wedding happens or not. I’m going home!” But before I could leave, Jessica grabbed my arm in a vice-like grip. “You’re not going anywhere!” She unzipped the purse. “First, I’m going to check if you stole anything from me!” She opened the bag. Inside, there was nothing but a few empty red envelopes from the earlier cash gifts. Jessica shrieked, “Leo! The diamond necklace, the ring, the gold you gave me… it’s all gone!” Her expression twisted into one of vicious accusation as she pointed a finger at my face. “Well, well, Camille. I thought I could trust you, my future sister-in-law, to hold my bag for me. I never thought you’d have such sticky fingers!” I was completely stunned. She immediately started a live stream, shoving the camera right in my face. “Everyone, look! This is my future sister-in-law, the famous Miss Vaughn of the Vaughn Corporation. But guess what? She’s the adopted daughter. I guess she inherited some bad genes from her real parents!” “I asked her to hold my bag, and in just a few minutes, tens of thousands of dollars worth of my jewelry vanished! The bag never left her hands. I wonder who could have taken it? It’s such a mystery!” A flood of malicious comments poured in. “This is why you should be careful about adopting. Who knows what kind of trash their parents were?” “Look at her, dressed in all those designer brands. You’d never guess she was a common thief.” “What a snake in the grass. Her adoptive parents gave her everything, and she repays them by stealing from her brother’s fiancée and trying to ruin his wedding.” Jessica’s bridesmaids swarmed me, snatching my own purse. They dumped its contents onto the floor. When they found nothing, Jessica grabbed a handful of my hair and slapped me hard across the face. “Bitch, tell me where you hid it!” My cheek burned, and the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. But what chilled me to the bone was my brother’s reaction. He just stood there, watching with cold indifference. He even added, his voice light, “Come on, Camille. Just give Jessica her things back. Don’t ruin our wedding, okay?” I wiped a smear of blood from my lip. “Since you’re so sure I stole something,” I said, my voice dangerously calm, “then let’s call the police and have them figure it out.” Jessica snatched my phone and smashed it on the ground. The screen shattered. She crossed her arms, glaring at me. “This is a small town. What will the neighbors think if they see the police show up at my parents’ house?” “Since you’re so determined to deny it, we’ll just have to search you ourselves.” A wicked glint appeared in Jessica’s eyes. “Girls, strip her down. Who knows, maybe she hid it in her underwear.” Panic seized my heart. “Jessica, that’s illegal!” I shouted. “Leo, call the police!” But Leo just rubbed his ear and went back to scrolling on his phone. My eyes widened in horror as I stared at the boy I had loved and protected for over twenty years, blood or not. My heart turned to ice, piece by piece. “Leo!” I screamed. “I’m your sister!” When we were kids, I was always the one who stood in front of him, taking the blame for his mistakes. Leo just scoffed. “Give me a break. Your deadbeat parents were so poor they had to sell you to our family. You think you’re worthy of being my sister?” Jessica’s friends yanked up my t-shirt, exposing my skin to the leering eyes in the room. Whistles echoed around me. I struggled, but Jessica just slapped me again and again, until my ears were ringing. She leaned in close, her voice a venomous whisper. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll sign over all your properties to Leo. Then I’ll let you go.” “Otherwise,” she smirked, “your parents will believe you’re a thief. You’ll lose everything and get thrown out with nothing.” So that was it. A thief crying wolf, all to steal my houses. Rage burned so fiercely it felt like it would tear through my chest. My voice trembled as I spoke. “Jessica, if you ever manage to marry into the Vaughn family, my name isn’t Camille Vaughn!” Jessica burst out laughing as if I’d told the funniest joke in the world. “Have you forgotten your place? You’re the adopted one. Who do you think you are to make threats like that?!” Her eyes darkened. She waved a hand. “Girls, teach her a lesson. Don’t worry, she’s not their real daughter!” 3 A sharp fist slammed into my forehead. A warm trickle of blood ran from my nose. Kicks landed on my stomach, sending waves of agony through me until my vision blurred. Through the haze, I saw Jessica grab a vase from the coffee table and bring it crashing down on my head. A bolt of sharp pain, and then I felt my forehead. My hand came away wet with blood. My appearance must have been terrifying, because Jessica and her friends finally stopped. I staggered to my feet, my eyes locked on her. A flicker of fear crossed her face, but she quickly masked it with bravado. “It’s your own fault for being a thief!” she spat. “Fine. I’ll be generous since you’re Leo’s sister. Give me back my things right now and kneel and apologize, and I’ll let this go for today.” She waved a dismissive hand and sat back down on the bed. Leo, ever the sycophant, put down his phone and began massaging her wrist. “Camille, hurry up and give her back the jewelry! See how forgiving Jessica is being?” “I didn’t steal anything!” I roared. “How can I give back something I don’t have? This whole thing was a setup by Jessica!” Leo’s eyes darted away. My heart sank. That look on his face… he knew. He was in on it. But he still pressed on. “Then just pay her back! The jewelry was worth tens of thousands. Paying her a hundred thousand in compensation is more than fair!” “Do it now,” he threatened, “or I’m calling Mom and Dad and having them throw you out!” He was so brazen, constantly holding the threat of being disowned over my head. I closed my eyes. I remembered a conversation I’d had with my parents just a few weeks ago. “Camille,” my mom had said, her voice gentle, “we adopted Leo because we felt guilty that you were so lonely as an only child, especially since we were always so busy with work.” “You two got along well enough over the years, so we let it be. But now he’s demanding to take over the company and wants us to transfer all the properties we gave you into his name.” “The boy has gotten greedy. We were thinking, since we’re already paying for his wedding, maybe it’s time to tell him the truth and have him move out.” At the time, my heart had gone soft. I’d argued against it, thinking about how Leo had lived his whole life as the Vaughn family’s young master. The shock of the truth would be too much for him. My parents had reluctantly agreed, and we dropped the matter. But today, Leo’s actions had frozen my heart solid. I made a decision. The moment I got home, I would tell my parents to kick him out. Not ruining his wedding day would be my last act of kindness as his sister. I turned and walked toward the door. Leo’s shout echoed behind me. “Camille, you dare leave without paying?” Then came the gasps of the guests. “Oh my god, I can’t believe the Vaughn’s daughter is like that behind closed doors.” I spun around in shock. Leo was holding his phone up for everyone to see, a triumphant smirk on his face. On the screen was a video… My pupils constricted.

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I am a humble stone spirit from the court of the Lady of Petrifaction, iron-hearted, incapable of love or sorrow. Yet, I found myself tethered to the body of a woman drowning in sentiment. She was a pitiable soul, loved by no one. When she miscarried, her husband was out having fun with her adopted sister. And her own mother accused her of being ungrateful, constantly saying how much better it would have been if the adopted sister were her real daughter. Later, her husband came home, the adopted sister in tow, and said, “Serena is staying for a few days. You can give her your room.” A dull ache pulsed in my chest, and my eyes began to well with tears. I knew it was the lingering love this body still held for him. But it didn’t matter. In one week, the host’s emotions would fade completely, and I would be free to be myself again—the stone spirit with a heart of iron… 1 This time, I didn’t throw a fit like she always used to. I simply said, “Alright.” I gathered my things and started to walk out. Aaron watched me, his eyes narrowed. “What are you plotting now?” His gaze was filled with suspicion, as if I were the one who had committed some unforgivable crime. But from the very beginning, I had always been the one reacting to their cruelty. I replied meekly, “A few days ago, Mom told me I should act more like a proper older sister.” Aaron’s expression softened slightly. “It’s good that you’re finally willing to listen.” He smiled and patted my stomach. “Go on to the guest room for now. I’ll be there in a bit, and we can do some prenatal bonding with the baby.” His face held a rare gentleness, but the sight of it sent a blade twisting through my heart. Just a week ago, the body’s original owner, Elara, had slipped and fallen in the bathroom. With the last of her strength, she had called Aaron. All she received was his irritated voice on the other end. “Elara, can you stop calling me all the time? Not even the cops check up on me this much! It’s so annoying!” “Ah! Aaron, be gentle…” A soft, feminine moan drifted through the line, and just before he hung up, I heard him whisper a soft apology, his voice low and coaxing. Elara had lain there on the cold tiles, a pool of blood spreading around her. The plea for help never left her lips. I clutched my chest, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm—thump, thump, thump. The pain was staggering as I stumbled out of the room. A suffocating pressure tightened around my heart, as if it were being torn apart. I knew this feeling. It was grief. Behind me, Aaron was already eagerly helping Serena with her luggage, not sparing me a single glance. I slept in the cold, damp guest room. Aaron never came. This wasn’t the first time. The original owner had cried and raged over it, but it had never changed anything. And me, a stone spirit with a heart of iron? I certainly didn’t care. Even if I was still trapped with all her emotions. The next day, we went to visit my mother. Serena immediately claimed the passenger seat, a smug smile on her face. “You know I get carsick, sister.” She always did this. In the beginning, Elara would gently protest, but Aaron would always give her the silent treatment. After a while, she just stopped trying. Perhaps I was lost in thought for too long, because Aaron impatiently yanked open the back door and shoved me inside. “What’s with the attitude now? I’ll have Mom set you straight.” I fell hard onto the back seat. A sharp pain shot through my hand, and blood instantly welled up. I looked down. A lace bra was lying on the seat. The metal clasp on the back was what had sliced my palm open. 2 Seeing the bra in my hand, Aaron’s face flashed with guilt. But it was Serena who let out a little gasp, leaning over to snatch it away. “I was wondering where this went! It must have fallen out here.” Aaron sighed. “How many times have I told you not to be so careless?” Then he turned to me, offering a flimsy explanation. “Elara, don’t get the wrong idea. This must have fallen out of her luggage when I helped her move last time.” My bleeding hand was nothing compared to the agony in my heart, but I had no desire to argue. “Let’s just go,” I said. “Don’t keep Mom waiting.” The original Elara was a devoted and filial daughter. She had been sent to live with her grandmother as a child and cherished every reunion with her parents. After we parked, Serena grabbed Aaron’s arm and started pulling him upstairs. In the past, he would have followed without a second thought, but this time he hesitated, looking back at me. “Elara?” I snapped out of my daze and slowly followed. Serena’s expression instantly soured. … “You’re here! No need for such formalities, come in, sit down!” “Serena, you’re back too! How’s work? You haven’t come to see your mother in so long.” My mother beamed as she ushered Aaron and Serena inside, leaving me to stand awkwardly on the doorstep. At the same time, a faint wave of disappointment washed over me. So this was Elara’s mother. Seeing me just standing there, my mother turned and snapped, “What are you doing, just standing there like a statue? The cooking isn’t finished. Go and do it. Don’t think you can get out of everything just because you’re pregnant.” “Let me tell you, when I was pregnant with you, you gave me nothing but trouble. And I still had to cook for everyone when I was eight months along.” “I should never have had you. If only Serena were my real daughter. She’s so beautiful and thoughtful…” She rambled on, her voice dripping with disdain for me. Her sharp words were like an invisible hand, squeezing my heart until it felt like it would burst. My pulse quickened, pounding against my ribs. So this is what it feels like when your heart breaks completely. I saw Aaron frown at me and Serena smirk in triumph. I had no choice but to retreat to the kitchen. Tears blurred my vision. I leaned against the counter, forcing myself to calm down. From outside the kitchen came the sound of their cheerful laughter. They were a perfect, happy family. No one gave a second glance to the pale, trembling woman in the kitchen. I had heard that Serena’s mother died saving mine. Wracked with guilt, my mother adopted her as a goddaughter, and from that day on, Serena became the treasured jewel of the family. Because of a single, childish comment—that I didn’t like her, that I might bully her—I was sent to my grandmother’s in the countryside before I was even eight. When I was finally brought back home, they constantly reminded me to give in to Serena, to let her have her way. Even Aaron doted on her. “Elara,” he would always say, “it’s your family’s fault she’s an orphan. This is a debt your family owes her.” But the one who owed the debt was my mother. Why was I the one who had to bear all the blame? The original Elara never understood. Neither did I. I was bound by karma. I couldn’t divorce him, nor could I cut ties with my mother. But even though my heart was breaking, I still had to eat. As a stone, I could neither eat nor drink. Now, I cherished food. At the dinner table, as they chatted, Serena suddenly spoke up. “By the way, Aaron, now that my sister is pregnant, it’s not very convenient for her to keep working at her old company. Why don’t you let her join yours?” Aaron frowned. “She doesn’t have the qualifications. I can’t bend the rules for her.” My chopsticks paused. A sharp, needle-like pain pierced my heart. The year Elara graduated from high school, Serena had hidden her university acceptance letter. Thinking she had failed, she got a simple job right after graduation. Though she eventually earned a degree through self-study, in the eyes of someone like Aaron, it held far less weight than a degree from a traditional university. When Aaron found out about it, all he had said was, “That’s just fate.” Remembering this, I clung to a final shred of hope and asked the question Elara had never dared to ask. “Aaron, can’t you make an exception, just this once?” 3 Aaron’s brow furrowed, and he answered without a hint of hesitation. “If I make an exception for you, then others will ask me to make exceptions for them. If I let you in today, someone else will want a spot tomorrow.” My mother chimed in, “Aaron’s right. You can’t set that kind of precedent, or the whole company will fall into chaos. If you find your job inconvenient, just quit. It’s not like anyone is counting on you to support the family.” So, giving his own wife a job would disrupt the company, but letting the clueless Serena become his personal assistant was perfectly fine. I managed a weak smile. “Forget it. I was only joking.” The table fell silent. After a moment, Aaron hesitated. “Well, maybe… you could be my assistant? Usually…” “Sister, I’m so sorry!” Serena cut him off, her eyes welling with tears. “If I hadn’t been so thoughtless back then and lost your acceptance letter, you wouldn’t have…” Clatter! Before she could finish, my mother slammed her chopsticks on the table. “That was years ago! Are you still blaming your sister for it now?” “Elara, can’t you be more understanding for once? Missing out on a university degree hasn’t affected you that much!” Her shrill accusations echoed in my ears, a roaring sound that made me want to vomit. I knew this was the original Elara’s trauma response. She had endured so much scolding that her body reacted this way automatically. My heart throbbed with a searing pain. I tried to stand up to get my phone, but the world swam before my eyes. My legs gave out, and I crashed heavily against the table. With a series of sharp cracks, the dishes and food went flying. Sharp porcelain shards dug into my elbow, and blood welled up instantly. My mother jumped, her voice hesitant. “What’s… what’s wrong with you? Are you not feeling well?” She reached out to help me, but Aaron’s cold voice stopped her. “Is faking sick really that interesting, Elara? You send me every one of your check-up reports. I know you’re perfectly healthy.” But in all this time, he had never once gone with me to a check-up. He had no idea that after every appointment, I would go see a therapist. Aaron’s words ignited my mother’s anger. She shot me a glare. “This family has no peace with you in it! Come on, let’s go eat out!” She grabbed Aaron and Serena, one in each hand, and pulled them out the door. Just before she left, Serena turned back and gave me a triumphant smile. I sat there, a pathetic figure amidst the wreckage of the meal, gasping for breath, unable to move for a long, long time. The sky turned completely dark, and they never returned. I stared at the calendar, silently counting down in my head. Five days left…

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1 Here’s a more detailed version while keeping it concise: After my parents died in a tragic accident, I was sent abroad for five years of secret, intensive training before finally returning to take my place as the head of the Knight family. At a high-profile auction, I intended to buy gifts for my relatives—until the final item was unveiled. The moment the red cloth was pulled away, my blood turned to ice. Inside a massive black iron cage was my older sister, heavily pregnant, on the verge of childbirth. My grandmother sat in the audience, tears streaming down her face in despair. Behind my sister’s husband stood his ex-wife and their daughter, both smirking with satisfaction. “Jasmine and her mother tried to care for you,” my brother-in-law sneered, “yet you humiliated them, throwing money at their feet. Since you have so much to spare, why not light a sky lantern to save your granddaughter?” My sister cried for help, but no one dared intervene. Five years away—and they dared treat a Knight like this? Did they truly believe I was gone? Our butler was frantic. “Young Master, I’ll get the auction house president over here right now. We’ll have them release her and then make them kneel and apologize.” My eyes darkened. “Wait. I want to see exactly what they plan to do to my sister.” To dare to lay a hand on a Knight right under my nose… they must have a death wish. A chorus of lewd laughter erupted from the men in the audience as they openly appraised my sister. “As expected of the eldest daughter of a prestigious family. Even pregnant, she has a certain charm.” “Mr. Monroe, are you really willing to auction off your beautiful wife for your friends’ entertainment?” My grandmother was trembling, her eyes shooting daggers of pure hatred at the man on the stage, Felix Monroe. “Felix, if it weren’t for Iris willingly donating a kidney to you all those years ago, you would have died from renal failure!” “And when your company was on the verge of bankruptcy, it was Iris who used all her savings to help you get through it!” “You’re ungrateful, and now you’re doing this to her because of another woman! Do you even have a heart?” Felix just sneered. “She did all of that willingly. What does it have to do with me? You two humiliated my ex-wife and daughter, which is the same as humiliating me!” “The grand finale of this auction,” he announced with a flourish, “is one night with my pregnant wife, Iris Knight.” “Damn, this is getting exciting!” someone shouted. My grandmother’s eyes rolled back, and she almost collapsed. “Stop the act,” Felix’s ex-wife, Helena, chimed in. “Weren’t you two so high and mighty when you were trying to kick Jasmine and me out?” “So what if Jasmine accidentally pushed her? Was that any reason to throw us out on the street?” “She tried to push Iris down the stairs! She wanted to kill her and the baby!” my grandmother’s voice trembled with a residual fear. A five-year-old child with such a vicious mind. If they had called the police then, Helena and her daughter would have been arrested. All she had done was offer them money to find another place to live, simply to protect her granddaughter. “Your precious granddaughter is pregnant. Besides being auctioned off for a night, she and her baby can be sold together.” “The Knight family is so rich. Why don’t you light three heavenly lanterns to save her?” Helena added, her voice dripping with mock sympathy. “Lighting a heavenly lantern isn’t that easy. Each one costs over a hundred million. The Knight family has been bled dry. Their prestigious name is all they have left.” “You and your precious granddaughter are living hand-to-mouth, surviving on welfare checks. Lighting a heavenly lantern is a pipe dream.” “And don’t even think about getting the money back from Felix. You gave it to him willingly. Without an IOU, we don’t acknowledge it.” Helena watched my grandmother’s face grow even paler, and she laughed with satisfaction. My eyes narrowed. Since when were my grandmother and sister so poor they had to rely on welfare? I stared at Helena and her daughter, Jasmine, standing behind Felix, and my fists clenched. The limited-edition jewelry they were wearing… I had specifically bid on those pieces at an auction abroad to send to my grandmother and sister. I looked at my grandmother’s hands, calloused and rough, her skin peeling. She was so thin she was just skin and bones, and she had aged visibly. Inside the cage, my sister’s eyes were bloodshot. She looked like she wanted to tear the three of them apart. What Helena said must have been true. What on earth had happened in the five years I was gone? The Knight family was once as wealthy as a small nation. And my grandmother had her own powerful family backing her. How could they have fallen so low? “Investigate. I want to know everything that has happened in the last five years.” “Yes, Young Master.” For five years abroad, I had been undergoing the family’s secret training, living on the edge of life and death every single day. The only contact I had with home was through my uncle, who I would call in secret to check on them. But two years ago, his phone went dead. I had to accelerate my progress, and the moment I inherited the position of head of the Knight family, I rushed back. From the cage, my sister’s heart-wrenching screams echoed through the hall. “Felix, you bastard! How could you do this to your own child?” Felix was unfazed. “I have Jasmine. One daughter is enough. As for the baby in your belly… it’s not going to have the Monroe name anyway.” “But she is your wife! You’re the one who willingly married into the Knight family!” my grandmother cried. “Old woman, if you don’t have the money to bid, then get out. Don’t waste everyone’s time.” My sister’s eyes filled with despair. The men in the audience were perverts. After one night with them, it was uncertain if she would even wake up alive. “If the two of you kneel and apologize to them, I might consider letting her live.” My grandmother gritted her teeth in fury. “You want me to kneel and beg you?” My sister screamed in desperation, “Grandma, no! You can’t!” Jasmine suddenly burst into tears. “Daddy, they’re bad people! They said I was an unwanted burden and should just die!” Hearing this, Felix’s gaze turned icy. My grandmother steadied herself against a chair, slowly rising to her feet. She raised her bidding paddle, her voice trembling but resolute. “I… I want to bid!” 2 I stared at my grandmother in shock. I knew she couldn’t even produce a thousand dollars right now. Her monthly welfare check of five hundred wasn’t even enough for them to eat properly. But if she couldn’t pay, they would break her legs. The auctioneer released my sister from the cage and fastened a collar around her neck. She desperately tried to cover herself with her hands, but it was futile. “And now, we begin the bidding for one night with Mrs. Monroe. The starting bid is one cent.” A deafening roar of laughter erupted from the crowd. “One cent? Did I hear that right? That means any man here can have her!” “This is the eldest daughter of the top-tier Knight family. Back in the day, her line of suitors stretched all the way to France.” “Mr. Monroe is a generous man. This is practically a free gift!” “I’ll bid ten thousand!” The bids climbed rapidly, quickly reaching half a million. Felix took out his phone and projected its screen onto the large display. “We’re already at half a million. I’ll throw in a little bonus.” The screen showed my sister, heavily pregnant, in a series of seductive poses, her private areas pixelated. “My god, that’s so vulgar. I never would have guessed the prim and proper Miss Knight was so wild in private.” “That body is incredible. I love pregnant women. She’ll be fun to train.” “One million!” My grandmother glared at Felix and his family, her face contorted with rage. But he was busy draping a coat over Helena’s shoulders and buying ice cream for Jasmine, a perfect picture of a happy family. “Two million!” “Five million!” “I’ll light a heavenly lantern!” my grandmother screamed, then collapsed back into her chair, her face turning an even more ghastly shade of white. “Mrs. Knight, you want to light a heavenly lantern?” Helena sneered. “Can you even afford it?” “We have to verify your funds first. If you don’t have the money, don’t blame these men for not being polite to an old woman like you.” “I have the money. You can verify it anytime.” Helena burst out laughing. “Stop bluffing. If you had money, would you and your precious granddaughter be picking through leftover vegetables at the market?” My grandmother ignored her, taking out a family seal and handing it to the auctioneer. “Please, verify.” “It’s a waste of time. You’re just a shameless old woman, using your age to cause trouble here.” Before Helena could finish, the auctioneer slammed his gavel. “Congratulations to Mrs. Knight for successfully lighting a heavenly lantern! The night with Mrs. Monroe belongs to you.” Helena was dumbfounded, her face twisting into a hideous snarl. “You must be mistaken! How much can a stupid old seal be worth?” Felix’s eyes were fixed on the seal. Suddenly, as if remembering something, he crushed the wine glass in his hand. 3 Seeing the seal, I remembered it was the heirloom of my grandmother’s family. There was only one in existence, the most precious thing she had owned for years. The seal could be used to borrow fifty million from the bank, but the price was permanent excommunication from her family. After all, anyone who would cash in their family’s heirloom was no longer worthy of being a member. She wouldn’t have sold it, severing ties with her own family, unless she had no other choice. But for something so valuable to be exchanged for such a small sum… she had clearly been taken advantage of. The president of the auction house was kneeling before me, trembling like a leaf, sweat pouring down his face, too terrified to even breathe. On the auction floor, the lecherous men were grumbling with disappointment. “To let some old hag light the heavenly lantern.” “Damn it, I wanted a taste of that beautiful pregnant woman. Now it’s all ruined!” The auctioneer smiled and told them to be patient, because something even more explosive was coming. “Tonight’s second grand finale item is… Mrs. Monroe’s body!” “According to the medical report provided by Mr. Monroe, Mrs. Monroe has a rare blood type, RH-negative. She can be purchased for use as a private blood bank.” A fresh wave of gasps rippled through the hall. RH-negative blood was incredibly rare. Those who had it were often kept under the protection of powerful families. For an ordinary person to own a walking, talking blood bank was like a dream come true. It was a truly fitting finale for the auction, and everyone was eager to bid. “Such a rare blood type… If I buy her and have twenty kids with her, won’t I have an infinite blood supply?” “Exactly! And as long as she doesn’t die, she can keep having babies. The world record is fifty-eight.” “Plus, I can have some fun with her too. Two birds with one stone. Perfect!” The men surged forward, their grimy, stinking hands reaching out, groping my sister’s body. My grandmother, enraged, grabbed her cane and started swinging wildly at their heads. “You old hag, how dare you attack us! You’re asking for it!” A fist stopped mid-air. It was Felix. He spoke in a cold, warning tone. “Don’t cause trouble here. Don’t forget, the new owner of this place is ruthless. You don’t want to cross him.” “Once the bidding is over, these two are ours to do with as we please. Whether they live or die is up to us.” The men exchanged glances and, for the moment, backed down. “You old hag, we’ll deal with you later. I’m buying your granddaughter’s life. I bid ten million!” “Twenty million!” “Forty million!” My grandmother collapsed onto her chair. On the stage, my sister’s eyes were filled with utter despair. Helena was triumphant again. “You don’t have the money to save your precious granddaughter this time, do you? I’d say lighting that first lantern was just a final, desperate struggle.” “You lit one heavenly lantern. You can’t possibly have the money to light a second one. Just wait and watch your granddaughter become a living blood bag.” “Light… light the heavenly lantern!” My grandmother raised her bidding paddle, mustering all her strength to shout the words. My sister stared at Felix, tears of blood streaming from her eyes. She hated him with every fiber of her being. Their years of love and companionship had all been a giant lie. Before they were married, Felix had hidden the fact that he was divorced, presenting himself as a caring, successful professional. It was only after my sister had given him everything that he revealed his true colors. Felix sneered. “See that? This is what you get for insulting my ex-wife and daughter.” My sister closed her eyes, letting the bloody tears trace a path down her cheeks. She hated herself for giving her heart away so easily, and now she was dragging her only remaining family down with her. In that moment, she broke down, sobbing. She regretted everything…

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I had my heart set on a diamond ring at the auction, the one I’d chosen to be my wedding ring. A symbol of my future with Damian. But no matter how high I bid, the young woman Damian sponsored always outbid me by a single dollar. Damian just smiled, a picture of helpless affection. “Darling,” he murmured, his voice a low thrum against my ear. “You know how she is with shiny things. Just let her have it. Be good.” In response, I lit the lamp. Zoe fled the hall that day, tears streaming down her face. Damian simply kissed my forehead, a soft, forgiving gesture. “My feisty girl,” he chuckled. He didn’t chase after Zoe. In the year that followed our wedding, he was an insatiable, inventive lover, claiming my body night after night, never giving me a moment’s peace. Then, today, an invitation arrived for a private auction. And there it was, projected onto a massive screen for all to see: a photo of me, lost in ecstasy beneath Damian. A trophy. Damian’s arm was wrapped possessively around Zoe’s waist. He looked at me, a cruel smirk playing on his lips. “You love to light the lamp, don’t you? Well, here are three hundred and sixty-five photos. If you don’t want them falling into other hands, you’d better start bidding.” … I stood frozen in the auction hall, surrounded by dozens of men, their leering eyes fixed on the screen as they traded vulgar comments. “Damn, she’s pure filth! And here I thought I’d seen it all. First time a single photo has gotten me this worked up.” “Tsk, tsk. Who would’ve thought? Aria Ashton looks so pure, but in bed, she’s wilder than a professional. And to think she has the nerve to tell us to get lost if we even get close.” “Damian, you lucky bastard. You’ve really broken in the precious daughter of the esteemed Ashton family, haven’t you?” a man said, winking at Damian, who was seated in the place of honor at the front. My fists clenched, my body trembling as I forced myself to turn and face my husband. In the seat beside him, the one that should have been mine, sat Zoe. Damian didn’t even try to hide it. His lips curled into a lazy, satisfied smile. “For the winner of each photo,” he announced, his voice smooth as velvet, “a full video of that night will be included as a bonus.” “A man of taste and generosity!” The room erupted. Damian’s gaze locked onto mine, his handsome features alight with amusement. “Don’t look at me like that. I told you, you can light the lamp. Three hundred and sixty-five times. Take your time.” “Come on, Damian, you must know! The Ashton family went bankrupt. She’s got next to nothing left!” someone shouted from the crowd. “To light the lamp costs fifty million a pop! She’d be lucky to have a hundred million to her name right now!” Damian raised an eyebrow in mock surprise. “Oh? Is that so?” “Tsk! What a shame. Three hundred and sixty-five photos, each one a masterpiece. Honestly, I’d be tempted to buy them all myself for… private study.” A man stroked his chin, sighing dramatically. “Too bad the only one here with that kind of cash is Damian himself.” Damian just laughed and held up a hand. “Gentlemen, please. Thorne Industries will not be bidding on any lots tonight. All proceeds will be donated to charity. Enjoy yourselves.” A wave of cheers washed through the hall. “Now that’s a true philanthropist! Good thing Thorne Industries quietly squeezed out all the Ashton’s business partners, or we might not be getting our hands on these photos today!” “What’s there to worry about? There are dozens of us. We can all get a piece!” “No way! That third one is a work of art. I’m taking that one, no matter the cost!” My voice was a strangled whisper, my hands shaking uncontrollably. I stared at Damian, the reality of his betrayal crashing down on me. “Ashton Industries… it was you? You’re the one who destroyed my family?” He simply held my gaze, that chilling smirk never leaving his face. Tears streamed down my cheeks. “Why?” I croaked, my voice raw. “Just because I lit the lamp that one time, a year ago?” He ignored my anguish, picking up the microphone. “We’re on a schedule, Ms. Ashton. If you’re not going to participate, I’ll let my friends begin.” The men watched me, their eyes filled with a predatory hunger. Every single person in this room was a titan of industry. The hundred million I had left, my entire fortune, was probably what they spent on a weekend getaway. How could I possibly compete with them? “Excuse me. I need to use the restroom.” I wiped my tears away, turning and walking out before I completely shattered. I was afraid I would start screaming and never stop. A chorus of jeering laughter followed me. “Look at that, even a whore can feel shame, hahaha!” “Damian, don’t wait for her. What’s a hundred million to us? She’s just making an excuse to run away.” “All of you, shut up,” Damian’s voice cut through the noise, cold and sharp. He stared intently at the doorway I had just disappeared through. The room fell silent. A few minutes later, I pushed the door open. Under the stunned gaze of every man in the room, I returned to my seat, my eyes still red and swollen. “Let’s begin.” Damian shot me a look, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. To better display the “exhibits,” the main screen had been expanded into a panoramic, wrap-around display, ensuring my humiliation was visible from every angle, in a constantly rotating slideshow of my most vulnerable moments. “The first photo,” the auctioneer announced with a sleazy grin. “Bidding starts at two million.” The room buzzed with excitement. “Sublime! Absolutely sublime! She’s an artist, that one. The ‘proper’ ones are always the freakiest.” “Two and a half million!” The auctioneer just smiled, and with a flick of his wrist, a block of text appeared on the screen next to the photo. I shot to my feet. It was a lurid, play-by-play of our wedding night, written with an intimacy and detail that… There was only one other person who could have written that. My trembling gaze found Damian. He sat there, a mask of detached amusement on his face as if he were a mere spectator. Only when Zoe leaned in to whisper something in his ear did his expression soften, his eyes filling with a tenderness he never showed me. The whispers and snickers around me were a physical force, threatening to drown me. “I thought the photos were hot, but the story is even better! Don’t you dare fight me on this one! Five million! I want that video!” “Six million!” “If she’s this wild on the first night, I can’t even imagine what came next… Tsk, tsk! Ten million!” “Light the lamp.” My own voice was a ghost of a sound, shaking but clear. Every head in the room swiveled towards me. The auctioneer’s professional smile faltered for a second. “Number 38 lights the lamp. Are you sure?” I sank back into my chair, feeling drained. “I’m sure.” “Tsk! A damn shame. That video must be incredible.” “What are you worried about? How many more can she afford?” “Exactly. She only gets better with practice. The later ones will be worth the wait.” “Number 38 lights the lamp! Congratulations to Ms. Ashton on her acquisition of the accompanying video!” I closed my eyes, my nails digging so deep into my palms I thought they would draw blood. The screen immediately flashed to the second photo, complete with another graphic description. “The second photo! Bidding starts at two million!” The room was on fire now. “Is this for real? This is better than any of my ‘educational materials’!” A man sitting near me leaned in close. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. You’re full of surprises. So prim and proper on the outside, but you’re just a slut in private, aren’t you?” I shot him a venomous glare, and he roared with laughter. “Oh, I like that fire! If Damian doesn’t want you, I’ll take you. I’ll even help you with a bid, how about it?” “Don’t touch me,” I snarled, my voice cold enough to freeze hell. He just snorted and leaned back. “Playing hard to get? You’re used goods, sweetheart. Ten million!” “Twenty million!” “Twenty-five million!” “Light… the lamp.” I don’t know where I found the strength to say it. The auctioneer gave me a long, meaningful look. “Number 38 lights the lamp!” As the sale was finalized, his professional smile returned, now laced with condescension. “That’s two lamps lit, Ms. Ashton. According to our verification, that leaves you with a cash flow of less than five million dollars, correct?” My voice was flat, lifeless. “Continue.” “Hah.” A flicker of undisguised contempt crossed his face before he presented the third photo. “The third photo! Bidding starts at two million!” “Light the lamp.” At the sound of my voice, the entire room stared at me in disbelief. The auctioneer’s face hardened. “Ms. Ashton, your initial verification showed a net worth of one hundred and four million. You’ve already spent one hundred million. You do not have sufficient funds.” A man winked at me. “Beg me, darling. I’ll light it for you.” I ignored them all, my gaze fixed on Damian. He was watching me too. But there was no hint of pity in his eyes, only a smug, derisive curl of his lip. Everyone looked from me to him. After all, he was still my husband. “Why is everyone looking at me?” Damian asked, a lazy drawl in his voice. “I already said, the floor is yours tonight.” The men breathed a collective sigh of relief. “Our thanks to Mr. Thorne for his generosity!” Just then, Zoe, who had been silent beside him, raised her hand. “I’ll do it. I’ll light the lamp for my sister.” Damian looked at her, a brief flash of surprise giving way to an undisguised, warm smile. Zoe turned to me. “After all, Aria sponsored my studies abroad. I can’t just stand by and not repay her kindness, can I?” The smile in Damian’s eyes deepened. Staring at Zoe, the icy wall he always kept up seemed to melt away completely. The room erupted in a chorus of sycophantic approval. “No wonder Damian adores Zoe! Who wouldn’t love a girl that sweet and obedient?” “Zoe is such a good girl. She blushes if you even tell a dirty joke. Not like some people, tsk tsk!” Their pointed gazes were like daggers in my back. A triumphant smirk flickered across Zoe’s lips before she masked it with a look of concern. “Don’t worry, Aria.” “What a performance.” She blinked, caught off guard. “What?” “This is how you repay me? By stealing my husband and my seat?” I leaned back in my chair, my voice dripping with ice. “I’m sorry, but I haven’t fallen so low that I need help from a backstabbing whore and a monster.” “Aria.” It was the first time Damian had spoken to me directly, and his tone was so cold it was like he was speaking to a stranger. I shot him a withering look before turning to the auctioneer. “I’m the one lighting the lamp. I’ll handle it myself.” “Well…” The auctioneer hesitated. “If you insist, we would have to include your real estate assets. But since Ashton Industries went bankrupt, their value has plummeted. It might just barely cover the fifty million.” “Then do it. Stop wasting my time.” “Tsk, tsk. The woman’s gone insane.” The men shook their heads, their voices laced with pity and mockery. “Giving up the roof over her head just to save face. What a shame, that third photo was my favorite.” “Don’t worry about it. We haven’t even gotten through a fraction of them. There are over three hundred left. What’s the rush?” “Right? I got a sneak peek. The later ones are so depraved she barely looks human, hahaha!” Their stares, a mixture of pity and scorn, bore down on me. “A cornered animal, fighting to the last.” “Next round, she’ll have no choice but to watch us buy up her filth.” “Tsk, tsk. I wonder what her face will look like then. Will it be the same expression she has in bed with Damian?” The snickering was relentless. I swallowed the lump in my throat, my hands clenched into tight fists, and looked up at the auctioneer. The fourth photo flashed onto the screen. “The fourth photo! Bidding starts at two million!” “Oh, now this one I really like! Fifteen million!” “Twenty million!” “Twenty-five million!” “Light the lamp,” I said again. Every eye in the room was on me. The auctioneer’s smile was strained to the breaking point.

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During my summer holiday, recovering abroad, I saw the wedding announcement for my daughter, Sophie. Her fiancé was a sixty-year-old man. I rushed home immediately, only to find the three young men I had hand-picked and raised as potential sons-in-law fawning over our housekeeper’s daughter. When they saw me, they spoke one after another, their words a rehearsed chorus of condescension. “Charlotte, Sophie insists she has a taste for older men. We tried to stop her, we really did.” “But don’t you worry. After Sophie is married off, we’ll take good care of all the Shaw family businesses for you.” “And as for Rosalind, we’ll respect whoever she chooses to marry. The most important thing is that she produces a worthy heir for the Shaw family, to continue the legacy.” I looked at my own daughter, Sophie, standing silently beside them, her eyes dull and lifeless, a chilling numbness etched onto her face. A tremor of pure rage shook my body. These little pretenders, these would-be sons-in-law, thought they could steal everything from my daughter? They were living in a fantasy. … Their mouths kept moving, a relentless stream of noise, but I couldn’t hear a single word. I had chosen them myself from an orphanage years ago, bringing them into the Shaw family with the sole intention of grooming an excellent husband for my daughter. I never imagined their ambition would be so monstrous. As they prepared to speak again, I hurled my luggage directly at them. “Get out!” They froze for a second, stunned. But it was the housekeeper’s daughter, Rosalind, who scurried to pick up my bags. “Mrs. Shaw must be exhausted from her flight,” she cooed. “Don’t blame the boys for not picking you up. They’ve been working themselves to the bone at the company, just to make you proud.” For the first time, I took a hard look at her. Though she was the housekeeper’s daughter, her face was flawlessly made up, and she was adorned in jewelry that screamed expense. In stark contrast, my own daughter was dressed in worn, ill-fitting clothes. A stranger would have mistaken Rosalind for the heiress of the Shaw family. As if sensing my thoughts, she cast a shy, flirtatious glance at the three men standing beside her—Lucas, Shane, and Gabriel. “The boys are just so wonderful to me,” she said, her voice dripping with false modesty. “I can’t possibly choose between them right now. But you can rest assured, Mrs. Shaw, I’m not a materialistic person. I only look at the heart. When I become the young mistress of the Shaw family, I promise I’ll take very good care of you.” Her words made my head spin. Who gave her the audacity to say such things to my face? The three men behind her didn’t stop her. Instead, they puffed out their chests with pride. In that moment, I understood. Perhaps I had been too subtle in my intentions, leading them to believe they were being groomed as heirs to the Shaw fortune itself. But even so, that was no excuse for tormenting my daughter. I took a deep breath, took Sophie’s hand, and turned to Rosalind. “I don’t care if you’re looking at their hearts or their wallets. The affairs of a low-class servant are of no interest to me.” Rosalind’s eyes widened in disbelief, then quickly filled with tears. “Did I… did I do something to upset you, Mrs. Shaw?” Lucas was the first to react, stepping in front of Rosalind protectively. “Charlotte, don’t talk to Roz like that. Look at the stray puppies in the yard—she rescued every one of them. A person that kind couldn’t possibly have a malicious bone in her body.” My heart sank. I yanked up my daughter’s sleeve. Just as I feared, her arm was covered in an angry, red rash, swollen and raw in places, with scratches that looked like they’d been reopened countless times, some even oozing pus. I pointed a shaking finger at Lucas, my voice trembling with fury. “This is how you take care of her? Don’t you know Sophie is allergic to dog fur?” Shane immediately pulled Sophie away from me. “Sophie, tell your mother! Since when are you allergic to dogs? How could you lie to her like that?” He then turned to me, his face a mask of false concern. “Charlotte, you have no idea. Sophie is constantly bullying Roz! When you were away, she’d order Roz around, even faking sickness to make Roz take care of her all night… She does it all out of jealousy because she can’t stand us being good to Roz.” “So all these marks on her body? She did them to herself for attention.” I almost laughed. I carried this child for ten months. I knew her better than my own heart. He thought he knew her better than me? I was about to take Sophie to the hospital, but Gabriel blocked our path. “Charlotte, you’ve treated us like your own sons since we were children. Don’t you trust us?” He shook his head in feigned disappointment. “Sophie… she’s truly a lost cause.” As if to prove his point, he pulled out his phone and began swiping through photos of my daughter in compromising positions with various men. He shot Sophie a look of pure disgust. “You have no idea how filthy she is. The moment you left the country, she started bringing all sorts of men back to the house. If it weren’t for Mr. Warren being so generous, no one would want her!” At his words, I felt Sophie’s body tremble violently. I had always known that of the three, Gabriel was her favorite. To hear such vile words from his lips must have been like a knife to her heart. Rosalind looked at the photos, a smug smile playing on her lips before she covered it with a look of feigned distress. “It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have let Sophie be so reckless with herself.” The three men rushed to comfort her. “It’s not your fault she has no self-respect! Don’t blame yourself! This is all her own doing!” Hearing their words, Sophie ducked her head, her hand tightening on my sleeve. She bit her lip and whispered, her voice barely audible, “Mom, I didn’t.” My heart broke. I pulled her into a fierce embrace and glared at the vipers in front of me. “You are my only child. If I don’t believe you, am I supposed to believe these outsiders?” I swept my cold gaze over the three ungrateful wretches, a plan already forming in my mind. Before they could process the menace in my tone, I started leading Sophie towards the door, only to run straight into the leering face of Mr. Warren. His eyes raked over Sophie with a possessive, unsettling hunger before he smiled at me. “Mrs. Shaw. I’m here to take Sophie for her wedding dress fitting.” His oily expression filled me with revulsion. “You’re older than I am, and you want to marry my daughter? Are you insane, or am I?” The air went still for a moment. Lucas quickly stepped forward. “Sophie agreed to it herself! Besides, after all the years she’s spent running wild, her reputation is in tatters. A man of Mr. Warren’s standing is a huge step up for her.” He didn’t finish his sentence before my hand flew out, the crack of my palm against his cheek echoing in the hall. “Did I give you permission to speak? What gives you the right to negotiate my daughter’s marriage in front of me?” Lucas looked stunned, as if he couldn’t believe I would strike him. After all, I had once invested so much in him, believing he had the most promise of the three. He stood frozen, speechless. “I…” Rosalind rushed forward, cradling his face with a look of theatrical pain before turning to me, tears streaming down her face. “Mrs. Shaw, Lucas has been the one looking after Sophie for you all these years! Without him, Sophie would have probably ended up selling her body on the streets! Marrying Mr. Warren is the best she can hope for! How could you hit him?” Mr. Warren, recovering from his shock, puffed up with indignation. “Mrs. Shaw, I’m willing to overlook her… impurity. And you have the nerve to call me old?” He then shot a sneering look at Lucas and the others. “Everyone knows you spent all those years abroad trying to secretly birth a male heir. Too bad you’re hitting menopause and couldn’t pop one out, so you had to adopt some boys from an orphanage to be your successors!” “And as for this worthless daughter of yours,” he spat, “I’m still expecting a dowry of one billion dollars! You don’t actually think I want this soiled cabbage for free, do you?” And there it was. Now I understood how they dared to treat my daughter this way. But Mr. Warren’s information was fatally flawed. My years abroad weren’t just for recovery; I was expanding my business empire overseas. An empire that included a critical project for his company. He thought he was so clever, didn’t he? I couldn’t wait to see how pathetic he looked when he was on his knees, begging a woman like me for mercy. Seeing my silence, he took another step closer, his smile turning predatory. “You know, compared to your daughter who’s been passed around, I think I prefer you. How about this? Forget the billion-dollar dowry. You and your daughter can marry into my family together.” He didn’t finish the thought. Sophie, as if possessed by a different spirit, lunged forward and slapped him hard across the face. “Keep your filthy mouth shut!” Rosalind’s smile vanished. She grabbed Sophie’s arm. “Sophie, do you have any idea what you’re doing? If the Warren family calls off the wedding, who do you think will want you? Or are you still hung up on the boys? Are you refusing to leave so you can stay here and fight me for them?” At her last words, Lucas and the others let out a derisive snort. “Don’t worry, Roz. She’s no competition for you. Whether she likes it or not, she’s marrying into the Warren family today. It’s for the good of the Shaw family’s reputation.” Mr. Warren, recovering from the slap, roared with fury. He grabbed a fistful of Sophie’s hair and started dragging her toward the door. “So-called heiress? You’re just a worthless piece of trash nobody wants! Let’s go!” I slapped his hand away. “Sophie is my only daughter. Do you really think I would let her marry a piece of garbage like you? I’m warning you, touch her again, and I will make the Warren name disappear from this city.” He faltered, letting go but muttering under his breath, “You’re the one who threw her away in the first place. Don’t come back now playing the loving mother. This family will belong to Lucas, Shane, and Gabriel soon enough. You’d be smart to get rid of this hot potato while you still can.” Just then, several luxury cars pulled up outside. I recognized the emblem of a high-end auction house. They had called an auction house to the home. That must have cost a fortune. I quietly pulled Sophie aside and sent a quick text to my assistant. A few minutes later, she replied. [It’s done. I’m on my way now.] I breathed a sigh of relief and told Sophie to stay calm. The men from the auction house walked straight to Rosalind, laying out case after case of exquisite jewelry before her. “Miss Kane, here are the items the gentlemen won for you when they lit the lamp at the auction. We’ve brought them personally. And here are some new arrivals they asked us to bring for your consideration.” Rosalind shot a triumphant look at my daughter, then delicately touched a diamond necklace with a perfectly manicured finger. “Oh, there’s so much,” she sighed with fake nonchalance. “I’m running out of room.” Gabriel glanced at Sophie. “Well, since Sophie’s getting married and moving out, her room will be free for your things.” The auctioneer smiled. “In that case, gentlemen, if you would please settle the final payment today.” Even Mr. Warren’s eyes widened at the dazzling display. “Truly the heirs of the Shaw fortune. So generous.” At his words, Rosalind’s pride swelled. She deliberately picked up a crystal hairpin shaped like a rooster and pinned it in my daughter’s hair. I recognized it instantly. It was the “Phoenix Pin,” the final masterpiece of a legendary designer, and by far the most expensive item there. “I think this suits you,” she said to Sophie, her smile a cruel slash across her face. “A gift.” Then she feigned surprise. “Oh! It’s a chicken. I thought it was a phoenix.” With that, she yanked the pin out and threw it to the ground. The crystal shattered. “How tacky. We don’t want something as low-class as a chicken here.” Sophie started to lunge, but I stopped her with a cold laugh. “Smashed it? Wonderful. You couldn’t afford to replace it even if you sold yourself.” Lucas grabbed my arm. “Charlotte, Roz didn’t mean it. Besides, she’s the future daughter-in-law of the Shaw family. Of course she can afford it.” Shane and Gabriel chimed in. “Yes, didn’t you always teach us to be generous with the people and things we love?” Yes, I did. I thought they would cherish my daughter. Even while I was abroad, I sent them a substantial allowance every month, so she would want for nothing. I never dreamed they would spend it all on the housekeeper’s daughter. Lucas pulled out a black credit card and handed it to the auctioneer. “Move all of it to Rosalind’s room.” A few seconds later, the machine beeped. Insufficient funds. Lucas frowned. “How is that possible? Try this one.” The same result. Shane and Gabriel laughed, handing over their own cards. “No money, and you’re still trying to light the lamp for Roz? Don’t worry, we can afford it.” I pulled Sophie over to a chair, sat down, and calmly sipped my tea as the card machine repeatedly chirped its denial. The auctioneer’s patience was wearing thin. “Gentlemen, are you certain you can afford these items? As you know, lighting the lamp and then failing to pay incurs a penalty of double the value.” Finally, they all turned to me, their faces pale with panic. “Charlotte,” they stammered, “what did you do?” At that exact moment, my assistant burst in, followed by a team of people in sharp suits. “Mrs. Shaw, we’ve pulled all funding from the Warren Group’s domestic projects! All overseas collaborations have been terminated as well!” Mr. Warren stared at her, dumbfounded. “Pulled funding? What are you talking about?” He ran his tongue over his teeth, a mixture of panic and rage on his face. “Without me, who’s going to marry Sophie? If it weren’t for me, the whole city would know what a tramp she is! And what overseas projects? My overseas projects have nothing to do with you! Don’t you dare try to bluff me!” My assistant, her own face flushed with anger, threw a dossier at his face. “Are you really that ignorant, Mr. Warren? Mrs. Shaw is the silent owner of your overseas partner.” His eyes widened in horror. “You mean… The O-Brey Group?” I let out a cold laugh. “My husband’s name is Orion. My daughter’s middle name is Brielle. You didn’t even bother to do that much research before you came here to spout your nonsense?” He started to speak, but his phone rang. He listened for a moment, his face draining of all color, and then stumbled toward me. “Mrs. Shaw… it’s all a misunderstanding…” My assistant blocked his path. “You should probably head back to your office, Mr. Warren. Now that news of our withdrawal is out, I imagine your creditors are already lining up at the door.” Mr. Warren paled, then turned and fled, practically tripping over himself. Lucas, Shane, and Gabriel watched him go, their own faces a mask of shock. “Sophie’s father’s name is Orion? But we thought you married into the Shaw family… how could…” The auctioneer, seeing how things were turning, looked pointedly at the three of them. “Gentlemen, the matter of payment for these items is still unresolved.” They didn’t even dare to look at him. Only Rosalind, still oblivious, tugged at their sleeves. “Boys, what’s wrong? Why are your cards empty? Is something wrong with the company? Mrs. Shaw adores you, she can just pay for it, right?”

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1 My husband, Leo, was furious when he saw the Christmas gifts I’d bought for my trip home to my parents. “Every time you visit your parents, you shower them with gifts. You’re spending way too much!” he snapped. “I make more money than you do! You earn less but spend more. It’s not fair. From now on, we’re splitting our finances. Fifty-fifty.” I didn’t argue. I just agreed and set a few ground rules. From now on, we’d have separate bedrooms. We’d each support our own parents. And if he wanted me to cook or do housework, he’d have to pay for my services. A year later, my husband, now living paycheck to paycheck, was on his knees, begging me to take him back and tear up our agreement. I just smiled and handed him the divorce papers. “I think we’re better off making a clean break.” … Leo stared at the pile of beautifully wrapped gifts by the door, his brow furrowed in a deep, angry line. “Did you really need to buy all this just to visit your family?” he demanded, his tone dripping with accusation. It set my teeth on edge. Still, I managed to keep my voice even. “It’s two identical sets of gifts. One for my family, one for yours. Everything is exactly the same.” In our three years of marriage, I had never once favored my family over his. I’d always been meticulously fair. But even my painstaking efforts to keep the peace weren’t enough for Leo. He shot me a look of pure contempt. “I pull in over seven grand a month after taxes, and you’re bringing home, what, five? On what planet does your family deserve the same treatment as mine?” he sneered. “Why should my higher earnings be used to average things out? You earn less, but you spend more. Tell me how that’s fair.” His words were a punch to the gut, stealing the air from my lungs. All this for a few Christmas presents? Did he really need to blow this so far out of proportion, turning our home into a corporate boardroom where our love was measured by income brackets? Seeing my silence, Leo pressed his advantage. “My mom has mentioned this a few times, you know. I didn’t pay much attention, but now I see her point. You really are clueless when it comes to managing money.” “So, here’s what we’re going to do,” he declared, a triumphant gleam in his eye. “To make things fair and square, we’re splitting everything from now on. AA. You can spend your salary however you want, and I won’t say a word.” I stared at him, my heart sinking. Was this really the man I had shared a bed with for three years? It was clear this wasn’t a new idea. This resentment over household expenses had been festering for a long time, no doubt fanned into flame by my dear mother-in-law. Without a moment’s hesitation, I gave him a crisp nod. “Fine. We’ll split it. But if we’re doing this, we’re laying down some ground rules. Let’s get everything crystal clear.” Leo, clearly expecting a fight, was visibly thrilled by my quick agreement. He nodded eagerly, like a bobblehead. “Yes, yes! Let’s get it all in writing. That way, there are no hard feelings.” Hard feelings? I thought with a bitter laugh. You’re getting worked up over a few daily expenses? I calmly laid out my terms. “Starting today, we have separate bedrooms. Utilities and property taxes are split down the middle. We each support our own parents.” I leaned back, my voice taking on a steely edge. “You can wash your own socks and underwear from now on. If you want me to do your laundry or cook your meals, you’ll have to pay me for it.” “My cooking will follow my standards, at a rate of no less than $15 per person, per meal. And if you want me to handle all the housework, that’ll be an extra $500 a month.” I had barely finished my sentence before Leo shot to his feet. “Five hundred dollars? For a little housework?” he sputtered. I lounged back on the sofa, giving him a cool, dismissive glance. “A professional cleaning service would cost you at least eight hundred, probably more. The choice is yours. I’ll keep my own room tidy, but the rest of the house is on you.” “Or,” I continued, a smirk playing on my lips, “if you want to save money, you can do the dishes, sweep, and mop every day, and do a deep clean of the entire house once a week…” Before I could finish, Leo cut me off, his voice tight with irritation. “Fine! I’ll pay it! Happy now?” A triumphant smile spread across my face. You thought you could treat me like a free maid, did you? Let’s see how you like it when you have to actually pay for my labor. I pointed a finger at the gifts by the door. “I bought those with my salary. You can buy your own damn presents for your family.” 2 On Christmas Eve, we arrived at my in-laws’ house for dinner completely empty-handed. Leo plopped down on the sofa and immediately started scrolling on his phone. I mirrored his posture, pulling out my own phone. My mother-in-law’s face instantly soured. “Getting more shameless by the day, are we?” she grumbled. “Showing up to your in-laws’ house on Christmas Eve empty-handed? Who do you think you are, a princess?” In the past, I would have immediately taken over the kitchen. On Christmas Eve, I’d be up at dawn, shopping for ingredients and cooking all day while the three of them—Leo, his mom, and his dad—sat around waiting to be served. But tonight, the kitchen was dark and silent, the stove cold. Were they still expecting me to perform? My father-in-law, a man with a notoriously short fuse, jumped right in. “Ava, look around! Do you know any other daughter-in-law who acts like you? Have you forgotten all basic decency?” he roared. “We used to think you were so considerate. Was that all an act? Now you can’t even be bothered to keep up appearances?” Watching them fume gave me a strange sense of satisfaction. I had poured my heart and soul into being a good daughter-in-law, and what had it gotten me? Nothing but criticism. Every gift I ever brought, my mother-in-law would find something to complain about. “This is so impractical. You have no idea how to run a household! Leo works so hard for his money, and it just breaks my heart to see you waste it like this!” “And your cleaning… you’re not even as good as a maid. I have no idea what Leo ever saw in you!” See? I was damned if I did, damned if I didn’t. So I decided I might as well be a freeloader. I let them rant until they ran out of steam, then I spoke, my voice cool and detached. “Dad, Mom, don’t look at me. Leo was the one who insisted we go fifty-fifty on everything. The deal was, we each support our own parents, and we each buy our own gifts.” I paused for effect. “We also agreed that if I do any housework, I get paid. So, for tonight’s Christmas Eve dinner… how much are you offering?” Last year, I’d wanted to have Christmas Eve dinner with my own parents, so I booked a table at a five-star hotel for both families. It should have been a joyous occasion. Instead, my in-laws ruined it. They spent the entire evening loudly boasting about how brilliant their son was, not-so-subtly implying that I was just leeching off him. They even criticized me for not being frugal enough, booking such an expensive dinner. Never mind the fact that my mother had already insisted on paying for the entire meal. Did they really need to make such a scene? But the worst part was when they started pressuring me about having children, right there at the dinner table. “Ava, dear, that little salary of yours requires you to work so much overtime. Is it really worth it? At the end of the day, this family relies on our Leo to provide,” my mother-in-law had said with a saccharine smile. “Since you don’t earn much anyway, why don’t you just quit? You could focus on getting your body ready for a baby and stay home to take care of Leo and the little one.” Every word was a thinly veiled insult, a reminder that my salary was less than Leo’s. I have my own two hands. I love my job. Why should I be the one to make such a sacrifice? What infuriated me most was Leo’s reaction. He actually agreed with them! “She’s right,” he’d chimed in. “Who pays for everything around here? The food, the bills, the mortgage… it’s all on me. It wouldn’t make a difference whether you worked or not.” His salary, just over seven thousand a month, had gone straight to his head. Did he really think his money was inexhaustible? Now, hearing that I expected to be paid for cooking dinner, my in-laws exploded. My mother-in-law, in particular, launched into a tirade that showered me in spittle. Leo, his face grim, leaned in and whispered, “Just cook the meal, Ava. I’ll pay you later. Do you really have to ruin Christmas Eve for everyone?” I remained on the sofa, unmoved. “We have an agreement. Payment first, then services rendered. No credit.” My mother-in-law looked ready to attack, but a cold glare from me stopped her in her tracks. “You’re always complaining about how much I spend, aren’t you?” I said calmly. “Why don’t you go to the market and see how much groceries cost on Christmas Eve?” “Since we’re splitting everything, you should be the ones paying for the food anyway.” You love putting on a show for everyone, don’t you? Let’s see how long you can keep up the act. 3 As was tradition, Leo’s grandparents, his uncle, and his family were all coming over for Christmas Eve dinner. I had deliberately said nothing about buying groceries. I was waiting for this exact moment of chaos. Otherwise, his family would just sit back and expect everything to be done for them. My mother-in-law’s voice rose to a shriek. “A big dinner for all these people? Do you know how much that will cost? It’s already late afternoon! All the markets are closing. Where are we supposed to buy food now?” Getting desperate, are we? I shrugged. “I assumed Leo had already told you. Since we’re splitting everything, what happens in this house is no longer my responsibility.” I’d never met parents like them, who just expected their children to provide everything without lifting a finger. Every time they knew we were coming, they prepared nothing. I never expected a hot meal waiting for me, but they literally wouldn’t even buy a single vegetable. Contrast that with my parents, who would always have a feast of my favorite dishes ready whenever I visited. And when I left, they’d load me up with bags of food to take home. The difference was stark, and it was heartbreaking. My mother-in-law was pacing like a caged animal, while I sat calmly on the sofa, playing a game on my phone. If I hadn’t seen the text messages between Leo and his mother two days ago, I wouldn’t have stooped to causing such a scene on a holiday. Leo: [Mom, it’s done! As of today, Ava and I are officially splitting everything. You don’t have to worry about her wasting my money anymore!] Mother-in-law: [Oh, my son, you finally grew a spine! I told you that woman was only after your money. Who knows how many nice things she’s secretly bought for her own family behind your back!] Leo: [I know, right? Thanks for the wake-up call, Mom. I never even calculated how much she’s taken advantage of me these past few years!] Mother-in-law: [With that pathetic salary of hers, what right does she have to buy her family the same things as ours? They don’t deserve it!] Reading those words, a hot rage had boiled up inside me. I’d forced it down, placed Leo’s phone back where I found it, and avoided a confrontation. I was saving it for Christmas Eve, to catch them completely off guard. It was now prime time for dinner prep, and there wasn’t so much as a single leaf of lettuce in the house. Leo couldn’t take it anymore. He grabbed my arm and pulled me out the door. The local market was deserted, so we had to try the supermarket. Everything was closed except for a high-end organic grocery store. I didn’t mind. I leisurely strolled the aisles, tossing all my favorite things into the cart. With every item I picked up, Leo’s face grew darker. “Do we really need that much? This is too expensive! Can’t we get something else?” Oh, so now that it’s your money, you’re feeling the pinch? I thought. For the past few years, I’d spent hundreds on groceries for this dinner, not to mention the imported fruits and desserts. Did anyone ever feel sorry for my wallet? I stopped the cart and turned to him with a placid smile. “It’s a Christmas Eve dinner for ten people. Are you suggesting we serve three dishes and a soup? I don’t mind, but it’s not my reputation on the line.” There was nothing cheap in this store. Even a couple of organic cucumbers cost a small fortune. I remembered the years I’d bought jumbo shrimp, king crab, and fresh sea bass for this meal. Not once did they ever mention the cost. In fact, my father-in-law had complained I hadn’t bought enough, watching as his family devoured everything like a pack of wolves who’d never seen meat before. I could have bought a truckload and it still wouldn’t have been enough. Leo, gritting his teeth, had no choice but to let me continue shopping. As we reached the checkout, I grabbed a pack of festive envelopes from a nearby display. “Don’t forget the Christmas gifts for your parents and grandparents. In previous years, my standard was a $300 cash gift for each of them.” “Oh, and your cousin’s kid,” I added brightly. “I usually gave him $100. Just so you know.” As the words left my mouth, Leo’s face fell, looking like he’d just been handed a death sentence.

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The year I came of age, fate led me to buy the fallen Seventh Prince Valerius at a market. His sweet words left me with child—yet when he took the throne, no royal carriage came. Only a decree condemning my family to death. I went to him, heavy with child, begging mercy. Instead, he forced me to drink crimson petals as I watched my parents executed. Lord General Kaelan saved me, trading his military honors. “I’ve loved you from afar,” he swore. “Marry me, and I’ll cherish only you.” I believed him. Three years later, pregnant again, I overheard his confession: “She has Lirael’s eyes… No regrets, though I’m the one who urged the king to slaughter her family.” Loving the prince was my first sin. Loving Kaelan—the man who destroyed me twice—was unforgivable. 1 “If she was clever enough to seduce the Seventh Prince and carry his heir, she is no simple woman. Lirael’s heart is too pure. If Karen entered the court with a royal son, how could Lirael possibly contend with her?” “I could not let Lirael stand in harm’s way.” “But walls have ears, my lord. Sooner or later, Karen will—” “She will not,” Kaelan cut his friend off, his voice as cold as iron. “Karen will never know. I will not allow it.” “And I will spend a lifetime of devotion and fortune to make it up to her.” I bit down hard on my lip, my hand clamped over my mouth as I backed away with the dinner tray, silent as a ghost. Once inside my chambers, the door barred, I released my hand. Blood mingled with the tears that streamed down my face. When the King, Valerius, had ordered my parents’ execution, he forced me to watch. The horror made me swoon, and I collapsed into darkness. It was Kaelan who traded his loyalty and the entirety of his war honors to beg for my life. When I awoke, he held me, his voice choked with self-reproach. “The King cannot bear the memory of such a… tarnished past. Forgive me. I was useless. I could only save you.” All these years, he has openly defied the King. I thought it was because he loved me, that he was avenging me. I was so grateful, my gratitude blossoming into love. I never imagined he was the architect of my family’s doom. Thinking back, every time Kaelan had challenged the King, it had been because His Majesty had favored another court lady, neglecting Queen Lirael. Kaelan was simply fighting for the woman he truly loved. I was allowed to live only because of a passing resemblance to her. The thought of it all was like a dagger twisting in my heart. “Karen,” a voice called from the door. “The servants said you missed supper. Are you unwell?” “No… it’s nothing. I’m tired. I wish to sleep.” The door opened. I scrambled to wipe my tears and turned my back to him, but my hoarse, choked voice had already betrayed me. Kaelan’s hands were firm as he turned me to face him. The moment he saw my face, his brow furrowed. His thumb gently brushed away a tear as he spoke, his voice soft but laced with a suppressed fury. “Karen, did someone hurt you? Tell me who, and I will make them pay. Don’t cry. Every tear you shed breaks my heart.” Was it my heart he cared for? Or was he seeing Queen Lirael’s through my borrowed features? I shook my head. “You are the Lord General. Who would dare bully me? It is only… in three days, it will be the anniversary of my parents’ death. Thinking of them brings me sorrow.” Kaelan paused for a moment, his expression shifting to one of feigned grief. “Ah. It is my failing. I fear I may never be able to avenge you in this lifetime.” “It doesn’t matter. But the Autumn Moon banquet at the palace in three days… I will not accompany you. I wish to visit my parents’ graves.” The King murdered my family; I could not have my revenge. Now, discovering the true culprit was the Lord General, I still could not have my revenge. I was forced to play this charade with him, a constant betrayal to my parents’ memory. “Of course. It is not an important banquet. I will go with you. If we could have a child, I am sure it would bring comfort to your parents’ spirits in the heavens.” An involuntary shiver ran through me. After that draught of crimson petals, the royal physicians had said I would be barren. This child was a miracle from the gods themselves. I could not, would not, gamble my child’s life on the sliver of hope that Kaelan felt any true affection for me. “What is it?” Kaelan’s senses were sharp. He noticed my reaction instantly. “Karen, your monthly courses have been absent for some time. Could you be with child?” His tone was hopeful, but his eyes were filled with a wary, calculating light. I forced a brittle smile. “I wish it were so. But you know… I can never conceive again.” He handed me a small, ornate box. Inside lay a single, luminous white flower. A Silverwood Bloom. “Forgive my thoughtless words. Look, the Silverwood Bloom. I know you like it, and I had it specially sought out for you. Are you pleased?” Every autumn, a cough would plague me. I’d once heard that a tea made from this rare bloom was the best remedy. I had mentioned it only once, in passing, but Kaelan had remembered and sent men to the frozen peaks to find it for me. This time, however, I felt none of the usual joy or gratitude. I had once mistaken this for love. But it was only compensation for the slaughter of my family. I took the box and set it aside, my expression flat. “Thank you, my lord.” Seeing none of the delight he expected, Kaelan seemed disappointed but didn’t press the matter. “You are too frail to miss meals. I have had the servants prepare a new table of all your favorite dishes. Tonight, your husband will serve you.” Later that night, as I lay in bed, a tall shadow leaned over me from behind. “Lira… Karen…” Kaelan murmured my name—or hers—his hot breath ghosting across my neck, his fingers deftly unfastening the clasps of my nightgown. I once thought he was calling for me. Now I knew he was calling for the woman who truly held his heart, Queen Lirael. I suppressed the agony in my chest and pressed his hand, stopping its downward trail. “Another time. I am tired.” But he was insistent, his hand slipping beneath my chemise. “Karen, do you not want me? It has been nearly a month since we were last together.” My eyes snapped open. “Is it because the woman you love is now a queen that you seek solace in the arms of her substitute, my lord?” Kaelan froze, his voice suddenly sharp with alarm. “What are you talking about?” 2 I shielded my belly with my arm. “It’s nothing, my lord. Let us sleep.” “Pay no mind to the gossip you hear outside these walls,” he said, his voice tight. “You are the only lady of this house. There is no substitute.” “I swore to you, for all my life, you and you alone! What is this madness that has seized you tonight?” His voice rose, though I could not tell if he was trying to convince me or himself. I closed my eyes and said nothing. Kaelan, his interest lost, rose and moved to the chaise lounge across the room. After that night, he began to give me the silent treatment. Three days passed, and he did not set foot in my chambers. My maid, Bria, was worried. “My lady, why not tell the General of your pregnancy? With a child, he would surely not bear to be angry with you.” I took Bria’s hand. “Bria, I once saved you from being sold to a brothel by slavers. You said you would repay me.” “I am asking you now. This matter, whatever happens, you must not reveal it to the General or anyone else.” Given my condition, this child was a miracle. If I lost it, a second miracle would not come. Bria knelt, her eyes resolute. “Bria swore to serve you until death, my lady. My lips are sealed.” … On the day I was to visit my parents’ graves, the carriage, halfway to its destination, suddenly turned around. I drew back the curtain to see Kaelan blocking the road, his expression one of weary resignation. “Alright, I was wrong, Karen. Please, don’t be angry anymore.” “What is it you require, my lord?” Seeing that I was not yielding, that I had reverted to the formal title, Kaelan’s face hardened in disbelief. When we had first married, I had always called him ‘Lord General.’ It was he who had coaxed me, time and again, to finally call him by his name, to call him my husband. My use of his title now was a clear sign I would not forgive him. “Karen, it was just the idle whispers of common folk, meant to drive a wedge between us! I have already admitted my fault! If you continue to cling to this, and word reaches the palace, how is the Queen to feel?” So, it was for Lirael again. A sharp pain lanced through my heart. I lowered my lashes to hide my expression. “What is it you require, my lord?” At that, Kaelan lost his patience. “The Queen has suffered a miscarriage and is lost in grief. Today is the Autumn Moon banquet. You will accompany me to the palace and comfort Her Majesty.” The King’s favor was a fleeting thing. Even Lirael, once the shining moon of his desires, had now become common as bread. Her child had been lost to the scheming of a favored concubine, and the King had done nothing. Kaelan, unaware of my own pregnancy, now wanted to use my barrenness—my pain—to soothe Lirael. But it was Lirael herself who had forced the poison down my throat. Even after hearing of his devotion to her, I never imagined he could be so cruelly absurd. I clutched my stomach, refusing to go, my heart set on visiting my parents’ graves. But Kaelan accused me of being insensible. “Your parents are dead! How can the affairs of the dead be more important than the living? Besides, they were commoners. The business of the Crown is what truly matters!” Ignoring my wishes, he ordered the driver to turn the carriage around and galloped toward the palace, not forgetting to toss a few placating words my way. “After the banquet, I will come back with you to pay respects to your parents.” I was powerless to stop him. The carriage swayed and jolted. By the time we arrived at the palace, I stumbled out and could not help but retch a few times. “The carriage was a little fast, that’s all. Why are you so delicate? Hurry now, we mustn’t keep the Queen waiting.” Kaelan’s thoughts were already with Lirael. He urged me on impatiently. My face was pale, my body trembling with discomfort. Leaning on Bria, I forced myself through the palace gates. The banquet was split in two, the Queen and the ladies of the court on one side, the King and his lords on the other. The dishes were exquisite, and at the forefront was a platter of golden-scale trout. “This trout was a gift from the Duke of the Southern Shires. You must all try some,” the Queen announced. The fish before me was tender and succulent, but the smell was overwhelming. I retched again, unable to stop myself. Heads turned in my direction. “Lady Karen,” one of the ladies near me whispered, “could you be with child?” “Of course not,” I said, picking up a piece of fish to prove my point. But the scent hit me again, and I began to vomit uncontrollably. Now, everyone was staring. “Guards! Summon the royal physician for me!” the Queen commanded, her eyes boring into me. She muttered to herself, “Impossible! I poured the whole draught down your throat myself. How could you possibly be pregnant?” The physician arrived with terrifying speed. Before I could think of an escape, my pregnancy was exposed. I cursed my own frail body, unable to even conceal the sickness of early motherhood. “Why?” the Queen hissed, her gaze fixed venomously on my belly. “Why is my child gone, while you are allowed to have one?” “Lady Karen’s condition is a joyous occasion,” she said, her voice turning syrupy sweet. “Someone, bring that bowl of chilled crab soup and present it to Lady Karen as a gift.” 3 I couldn’t drink it. Even without a physician’s knowledge, I knew that cold-water crabs were chilling to the womb. To drink it would mean losing my child. Everyone else knew it too, but the Queen had spoken, and no one dared to intervene. Bria threw herself in front of me, a fragile shield against the inevitable. I was held down by several guards, their grips like iron, while a lady-in-waiting tried to pry my mouth open. “My lady is with child and her health is fragile! She cannot drink the soup! I beg Your Majesty, have mercy on my lady!” Bria pleaded, knocking her head against the stone floor until it bled. “Insolent slave! If you interfere again, you will be beaten to death,” the Queen declared. My strength was fading. Bria looked at me, her jaw set, and then with a sudden burst of strength, she broke free from her captors. She ran, screaming, to the other side of the feast, begging Lord Kaelan to save me. A procession of men strode over. Bria rushed to my side, and I finally breathed a sigh of relief. The situation was clear to all. Before the King could even speak, Kaelan stepped forward, knelt, and shifted the blame onto me. “Your Majesty, the Queen is kind and generous. This soup, made from the roe of a dozen prized crabs, is a rare delicacy. To offer it was a sign of her great favor. It is Karen who is ungrateful and spurns the Queen’s kindness.” The King’s eyes were dark pools of ink. “Oh? Then in your opinion, Lord General, should Lady Karen drink this soup, or not?” Kaelan glanced at me, his face a mask of conflict. He hesitated, saying nothing. “No matter,” the Queen said with a sigh. “Lady Karen is with child now, a precious state. I have lost my own child and have no heir to comfort me. If my humble gift is to be wasted, then so be it.” “Karen,” Kaelan said, picking up the bowl. “You always loved crab. It is a gift from the Queen. You should at least have a taste.” He brought the bowl to my lips. “The soup is cold. If I drink it all, the child will be lost. Kaelan, this is your child too,” I pleaded, my voice breaking, each word a drop of blood from my heart. “You were not raised in fragile luxury,” he said, his voice low. “You are strong. And the palace physicians are the best in the land. A single bowl of soup will do no harm.” The slaughter of my family, the poisoned draught… my body was a ruin of its former self. Kaelan’s eyes were filled with guilt, but the spoon he held to my mouth was steady. I knew then that nothing I said would matter. The affection I thought we shared had evaporated like mist. I wiped away my useless tears, took the bowl, and drank every last drop. As I drank, I knew that everything was finally coming to an end.

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My CEO wife controlled every penny—except what she gave me. Until she handed our $10 billion portfolio to Liam Bowen, her rookie financial advisor. At a make-or-break bidding dinner, my transfer failed. Liam called, oozing smugness: “Mrs. Sterling’s assets are under my control now. You need my approval for every cent.” With minutes left, he refused—”No 30-day advance request.” My rival sneered: “A VP who can’t scrape together 2%? Go beg your wife for allowance!” Three months’ work destroyed. Fine. If they wanted fury, I’d burn Sterling Industries to the ground. 1 After our rival won the bid, I stormed into my wife Serena’s office, my fury a roaring inferno, and slammed the now-worthless project proposal onto her desk. Before I could speak, she hit me with an accusation. “Adrian, you knew how crucial that government project was for the future of Sterling Industries. Why didn’t you do everything you could to win it?” “The moment Sterling’s competitor was announced as the winner, our stock began to tank!” Three months of sleepless nights, of skipped meals to avoid any mistakes, of enduring searing stomach pain to get to the meeting early—all of it was dismissed with a single, cutting phrase: “didn’t do everything you could.” I almost laughed. “I didn’t do everything?” “It was Liam Bowen who blocked the funds. I couldn’t even get into the bidding room.” “Do you have any idea how much overtime I’ve worked, how many client dinners I’ve endured for this? It was a sure thing, and we just handed it to them on a silver platter. No one is more furious about this than me.” “And you’re blaming me, instead of the one who sabotaged you?” Liam was there, too. White shirt, silver-rimmed glasses, hair slicked back with meticulous care—the perfect picture of a Wall Street shark. In reality, he was just a kid, a novice with zero experience. He’d taken five million of Serena’s money to invest and had managed to lose ten million in just three days. I had told Serena to fire him and hire someone competent. But she refused, insisting that Liam was young and needed opportunities to learn. I tried to give her the benefit of thedoubt, assuming she saw some hidden talent in him. After all, I had managed the finances before he arrived. Serena used to joke that having me as her “in-house CFO” gave her peace of mind. It was only when my own workload became overwhelming that she’d insisted on hiring a personal advisor. But now it was clear. Liam wasn’t just incompetent; he was ambitious. And he was using Serena’s protection to challenge my authority, brazenly telling me I needed to file a formal request to use our own money. The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. “Handing over a ten-billion-dollar portfolio to a complete amateur,” I sneered. “Serena, if you have so much money to burn, donate it to charity. Don’t waste it on a failure!” Liam’s face flushed with humiliation, but he forced a humble expression. “Mr. Hayes, I understand you’re upset that I didn’t transfer the funds in time. But I was simply doing my duty, managing Mrs. Sterling’s assets. If I make one exception, soon everyone will think they can access her funds at will. I can’t take that responsibility. Please, try to understand.” He kept repeating that he was just “doing his duty.” But the company had its own approval process. Any department needing funds would go through finance. Besides her own husband, who else had the right to directly access her personal fortune? He was just a fox hiding behind the tiger’s might, flaunting his newfound power in my face. I let out a cold laugh, wondering if I’d become too agreeable lately, letting every stray dog think they could bite me. But Serena’s concern was for the “wronged” Liam. Her brief flicker of guilt towards me instantly morphed into annoyance. “Adrian, Liam already explained the situation to me. He did nothing wrong. You don’t need to make things difficult for him.” “Even if the funds were delayed, you could have found another way. You don’t just give up such a golden opportunity. I shouldn’t have to teach you that.” “Let’s just drop it this time. From now on, just follow the rules and submit your requests in advance.” In three years of marriage, we’d had disagreements over work, of course. But this was the first time Serena had ever sided with another man against me, telling me I had to beg for access to our own money. Had she forgotten that she owed her entire empire to me? Watching the triumphant smirk curl Liam’s lips, I fought to control the storm raging inside me. I looked at Serena, my voice ice. “Serena, do you have any idea what you’ve just done?” I was her husband. Our assets were shared. And she was letting another man dictate how they were used? But Serena had no intention of arguing further. She looked down at a file on her desk, dismissing me with a wave of her hand. “That’s enough. You can go now.” There was nothing left to say. I turned and strode out of the office. Once, Serena and I were the couple everyone envied, a rare case of genuine love in a marriage of corporate convenience. But Liam’s arrival had opened a crack in our perfect union. Serena, if you continue to ignore this crack, don’t come crying to me when it shatters everything. 2 I gave myself and my team a paid vacation and didn’t check in on the company once. A week later, a furious voice message came from Mr. Davies, one of our biggest clients. “Adrian, what is the meaning of this? I bring my associates to your club for a meeting, and you’re trying to charge me for a broken glass?” I had given Davies, our largest account, carte blanche at our exclusive downtown club, The Starfall, with all expenses billed to me. Every employee at Sterling knew this. They would never charge him. I called the club manager immediately. He stammered, “Mrs. Sterling has given Mr. Bowen full authority over The Starfall. Mr. Bowen says he’s in charge of the money now, and any expense not pre-approved must be charged. The approval limit is one hundred dollars per incident. And he specifically mentioned… especially for your clients, Mr. Hayes.” “Mr. Hayes, everyone in the company is whispering that he’s going to replace you. People are already lining up to kiss his ass.” The shards of a glass I’d been holding dug into my palm, drawing blood. Liam Bowen again. Replace me? He wasn’t worthy. I fought back my rage and told the manager to fix the situation immediately. But Davies snatched the phone. “A hundred dollars? Do they think I’m some kind of beggar?” he roared. “I was only considering Sterling because of you, Adrian. If you ever leave, I’d be happy to work with you again. But I am done with Sterling Industries!” He hung up. In his wake, a flood of calls came in from other clients, all informing me they were terminating their contracts. I’d had enough. I called Serena, my voice colder than the grave. “Serena, what is the meaning of this?” I deliberately stressed her name, a reminder of how absurd her decision was. The Starfall was the first major asset she bought with her first big success, a birthday gift to me. She’d named it using a blend of our names, a symbol of my authority and my place as the husband of the CEO. And now, she had thrown our promises and our rules out the window, handing it over to an unqualified upstart. It was a direct challenge, a slap in the face. But my questioning only seemed to annoy her. “You heard? Liam must have had his reasons. Stop targeting him over every little thing. As for the clients, just send them a gift basket or something to smooth things over. And remember to file a request with Liam a month in advance.” You don’t poke a tiger and expect it not to bite back. My face was a mask of cold fury. I had been giving her face, holding back. If Liam wanted to play at being powerful, I would show him what real power looked like. He demanded that all company expenses be approved by him? Fine. I put pressure on the entire company. Anyone who dared submit a request to Liam Bowen was fired on the spot. Soon, the very people who had been fawning over him were now mocking him, calling him a pretty boy who’d tried to sleep his way to the top and gotten slapped down by the real boss. Liam retreated, taking a leave of absence and posting melodramatic updates on social media. “Even when I’m deliberately misunderstood, I will swallow my grievances and face my work with a smile!” he wrote, accompanied by a picture of himself with artfully reddened eyes and a brave, pained smile. Serena called me immediately, furious. “Do you get some kind of sick pleasure out of bullying a junior employee?” “Adrian, can you stop being so unreasonable? There is nothing going on between Liam and me! I just think he’s hardworking. If you’re doing this out of jealousy, you don’t have to!” “And even if he was in the wrong this time, can’t you be the bigger person and just let it go?” I was her husband, yet she defended Liam at every turn, completely disregarding my feelings. Fine. I no longer had to care about hers. I hung up on her. To spite me, Serena bought Liam a new BMW. I didn’t argue. I simply authorized massive bonuses for the entire company. Top executives got luxury cars and jewelry. Junior employees received five-figure cash bonuses. Money flowed out of Sterling Industries like a river. Serena finally lost her nerve and called to stop me. The next day, she brought Liam to our home. He stood behind her, a picture of nervous humility. His eyes were slightly red, with faint dark circles beneath them. He was wearing a tailored black suit, understated and expensive. It was from my favorite brand, the one Serena always bought for me. He noticed my gaze and quickly stepped forward, bowing in apology, his voice dripping with sincerity. “Mr. Hayes, it was my mistake. I was being immature. I’m so sorry.” “The post I made yesterday, it absolutely wasn’t about you. I was just in a bad mood. Please, I beg you, find it in your heart to forgive me this once. From now on, your requests will always have my priority approval.” He kept his head bowed, the very image of a terrified subordinate. I didn’t even bother to look at him. I scoffed. “Priority approval? You really think you’re something, don’t you? Get out.” Liam flinched as if struck, his face a mask of profound humiliation. He struggled to maintain his composure. Serena thought I had gone too far. She glared at me. “Liam has already humbled himself and apologized! Do you have to grind a man’s dignity into the dust to feel satisfied?” Disappointment and a sense of the absurd washed over me. I sneered. “Forget whether he is worthy of me begging for money. You, as my wife, have repeatedly sided with another man against me, let him usurp my position, take over my responsibilities, made an exception for him at The Starfall, bought him a car and a suit—constantly blurring professional boundaries. Why don’t you ask yourself what you really want?” “There is nothing between Liam and me! Why won’t you believe me?” she shot back, stung by my words, her voice growing shrill. Just then, Liam spoke up. “Mr. Hayes, it’s all my fault. Please don’t argue with Mrs. Sterling because of me. She’s been very tired lately and needs to rest. I’ll go to the office and resign now. I won’t disturb you and Mrs. Sterling any longer.” This was Serena’s weakness. She immediately grabbed his hand, right in front of me, telling him it wasn’t his fault. “Mr. Hayes already despises me so much that he sold The Starfall just because I’d been there,” Liam said, his voice laced with sorrow. “And all the gossip at the office… if I stay, it will only make him unhappy and cause you more trouble. It’s better if I leave.” Serena, who had been about to scold me for bullying a junior employee, froze when she heard what I’d done. She stared at me, her eyes wide. “What? You sold The Starfall?” Oh, so now she remembers it’s important? Then why did she let an outsider manage it? I stopped looking at their entangled hands, leaned back against the sofa, and laughed coldly. “Serena, you broke the rules first. Why should I keep a piece of garbage that’s been tainted?” Before she could explode, I added, “Since you’ve broken the rules time and time again, crossed every line, and made me subservient to Liam Bowen, I no longer wish to be this company’s Vice President, or your husband. Let’s get a divorce.” Serena’s eyes widened in disbelief, her accusations dying in her throat. Seeing the calm resolve on my face, that I wasn’t just saying it out of anger, she panicked. She compromised. “This was my mistake. I didn’t consider your feelings. I promise it won’t happen again.” “From now on, you can access funds whenever you need. You won’t need Liam’s approval. And I won’t have any unnecessary contact with him. Are you satisfied now?” I looked into her eyes and decided to give her, and our marriage, one last chance. “Fire Liam Bowen. And blacklist him from ever being hired again. Then, I’ll pretend this never happened.” The relief on Serena’s face vanished, replaced by a troubled expression. She bit her lip, then finally conceded. She let go of Liam’s hand and turned her back to him. “Come to the office tomorrow to collect your personal belongings. You don’t need to come back after that.” Liam could only leave, his face a mask of resentment. That night, Serena cooked my favorite meal. We acted as if nothing had happened, the picture of a loving couple. But we both knew the cracks in our hearts could never be mended. The next morning, Serena and I went to the office together.

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My living expenses were managed through a linked family account my mother controlled. Every single purchase triggered an interrogation. Right now, my heart was hammering against my ribs as I stared at the order I’d just placed: a special rush delivery from a 24-hour pharmacy. As expected, my phone buzzed. “What did you buy?” Her voice was laced with ice. I watched the red dot of the delivery driver on the map. “A late-night snack for an adult.” A sharp crack echoed through the receiver—the sound of a teacup shattering. “Cancel it!” I leaned against the door, a small, bitter laugh escaping my lips. “Too late.” “He’s knocking on my door right now.” 1 “Maya, did you get to campus okay? Is your dorm room all set up? Remember to change the sheets to the pure cotton set I packed for you. Other fabrics are bad for your skin.” Over the phone, my mother’s voice was an invisible net, instantly tightening around the fleeting freedom I had just tasted. “I know, Mom.” My reply was mechanical. My eyes scanned the room, where my three roommates were bustling about. Their parents had already left, but mine insisted on “remote supervising” every single step of my move-in process. “Right, about your allowance,” my mother’s tone suddenly turned serious. “I’ve set up a linked family account for you. That way, I can see every one of your expenses.” “There are too many temptations at college. I need to help you stay on the right track.” My heart sank. A linked account meant every cent I spent would be instantly reported to her. She would know what I bought, when I bought it, and how much it cost. This wasn’t financial support; it was total surveillance. “Mom, the other students just get…” “The other students are the other students. You are my daughter,” she cut me off. “It’s settled. And remember, not a single penny on anything you shouldn’t be buying.” After I hung up, my roommate, Chloe, leaned over curiously. “Your mom really cares about you. She even set up a special account for you.” I forced a smile, not explaining the suffocation and control that lay beneath her so-called “care.” College life officially began, and so did the escalation of my nightmare. Every purchase, no matter how small, was followed by a call from my mother within five minutes. “Maya, did you just buy a bubble tea?” “Those drinks are unhealthy. Didn’t I pack you herbal tea bags?” “What was this $5 charge for?” “Oh, laundry detergent? Doesn’t the dorm have washing machines? Why would you buy your own?” “You bought a book? What book? A textbook? Send me the title.” Every day, I had to explain, defend, and even apologize for every trivial expense. My roommates quickly noticed my predicament. They shopped online, ordered takeout, and went out freely, while I lived under my mother’s financial microscope, where even a box of tampons required her approval. 2 One Friday night, a month into the semester, the dorm room was unusually lively. “No classes tomorrow!” Chloe suggested. “Let’s order some late-night food and watch a horror movie! My treat.” “No way,” said another roommate, Dana. “You paid last time. Let’s split it.” “How about… I get it?” I ventured, mustering my courage. “Consider it a thank-you for putting up with me this past month. My mom’s constant check-ins… I know it’s been disruptive.” I scratched my head, embarrassed. It was the first time I had ever offered to treat anyone. It was also my first attempt at a “large” purchase on the linked account—four barbecue platters, totaling $28. The moment the payment confirmation chimed, my phone began to vibrate violently. The word “Mom” on the screen made my heart race. “Hello, Mom…” “Maya Thorne! Where are you right now?” Her voice was a piercing shriek. “It’s ten-thirty at night! What did you spend twenty-eight dollars on? Who are you with?” I hurried out of the room, lowering my voice. “Mom, I’m just in the dorm with my roommates. We ordered some food…” “Liar!” Her voice escalated. “In the dorm? What in the dorm costs twenty-eight dollars? Are you out messing around with boys? I knew it! The moment you left home, you’d turn into this!” “It’s just barbecue, Mom, I can put my roommates on the phone…” “Don’t bother! Get back to your room this instant!” “No, video call me now! I want to see with my own eyes where you are!” she commanded, hysterical. I didn’t have a chance to explain. I mechanically obeyed. My hand trembled as I started the video call, the camera panning across my three stunned roommates and the freshly delivered food on the table. My mother’s face appeared on the screen, her makeup perfect but her features twisted with rage. “Hi, Mrs. Thorne…” Chloe managed a timid greeting. My mother ignored her, her eyes locked on me. “This is what you call ‘just some food’?” “Eating something so greasy this late at night? Can your stomach handle that? Is this what your allowance is for? To be wasted like this?” The barrage of questions continued. My roommates’ expressions shifted from surprise to awkwardness, and finally, to cold detachment. Dana simply turned around, went to her bed, and drew the curtain. “Mom, please, can we talk about this later?” My voice was practically a beg. “Now. Immediately. Send that barbecue back!” she ordered. “And then you will write me a formal apology, detailing your actions and thoughts tonight. I want to see it by tomorrow morning!” After the call ended, the room was shrouded in a dead silence. I stood there, holding the now-cold food, tears streaming silently down my face. “Maya,” Chloe finally broke the silence. “Is your mom… always like this?” I nodded, unable to speak. The aroma of the barbecue was suddenly nauseating, as suffocating as my mother’s omnipresent control. “Uh… we get it,” Dana said, peeking out from behind her curtain. “But maybe… don’t offer to treat us next time.” I knew then, just as before, that I wouldn’t be making any friends here. That night, I curled up under my blankets, writing the “apology” my mother demanded, my tears staining the screen of my phone. At two in the morning, my phone vibrated again. A long string of messages from my mother. [Is the apology finished?] [I’m doing this for your own good. The world is a dangerous place.] [You don’t know how to manage money. I am teaching you.] [Starting tomorrow, the daily limit on your account is reduced to $10.] [Learn your lesson. I love you.] I stared at the messages, and a horrifying realization dawned on me: This wasn’t love. This was a prison built in the name of love. My mother had woven an invisible net with money, trapping me completely, and I didn’t even have the courage to fight back. The next morning, while my roommates were still asleep, I quietly got out of bed and deleted the lie-filled apology. Instead, in a notebook, I wrote a single line: “How to apply for student loans and on-campus jobs.” My mother might never understand that her control wouldn’t make me better. It would only teach me how to lie, how to hide, and, eventually, how to rebel. And on that day, as I wrote that line, I knew I had finally taken the first step toward breaking free. 3 I stood before the campus job board, staring at a faded flyer for a full ten minutes. “Coffee Shop Help Wanted, $12/hour.” It wasn’t much, but it was enough to buy the basic necessities my mother wouldn’t approve of. I pulled out my phone, carefully took a picture of the contact information, but my finger hovered over the call button before retreating. The ten-dollar daily limit my mother had set meant that even buying a bottle of shampoo required me to “save up” for three days. My period had started unexpectedly yesterday, and I’d had to borrow a pad from Chloe. The pity in her eyes was more painful than any of my mother’s lectures. “Maya?” I spun around. It was Sarah, a senior from the student government. She was the president of the literary society and had once praised a book report I’d written. “Hi, Sarah.” I instinctively tried to block the job board, as if it were something shameful. “Looking for a part-time job?” she asked with a gentle smile. “The lit society is actually looking for an editorial assistant. Just organizing submissions every week. It pays a stipend.” My heart leaped. “Is there… an interview?” “Just send me some of your work.” She handed me a flyer. “Oh, and there’s a city-wide college writing competition next month. First prize is a thousand dollars. You should enter.” A thousand dollars! That was more than my mother gave me in five months. The hand holding the flyer trembled. Back in the dorm, I quickly tucked the flyer between the pages of a textbook. The room was empty; my roommates were probably at the dining hall together. They rarely included me in their activities after the “barbecue incident.” My phone vibrated. It was my mother’s routine check-in. “Did you check in for your morning class? Send me the screenshot,” she said through the speaker. “And I see from the account you only spent $2.50 at the dining hall yesterday. What did you eat?” “Vegetables and rice…” I answered quietly. “What about protein? Haven’t I told you to eat a balanced diet?” She sighed. “You’ll get sick like this. What will you do if you get sick?” I stared at the travel photos my roommates had pinned to the wall and suddenly interrupted her. “Mom, I want to apply for a work-study job.” A few seconds of silence on the other end. “A work-study job? Are you short on money? Didn’t I give you an allowance?” “It’s not about the money…” I chose my words carefully. “It’s about… gaining experience.” “Nonsense!” Her voice shot up again. “A student’s job is to study! What experience? That’s all a waste of time! Have you been influenced by some bad classmates again?” I bit my lip and didn’t argue. After hanging up, I pulled the old notebook from under my mattress, flipped to the page with “student loans,” and drew a thick X through it. My parents would definitely be notified about a loan. That path was closed. In the back of the notebook were fragments of a story I’d been secretly writing—a girl locked in a high tower, weaving a rope from her long hair to escape. I added a few new lines: The girl discovered that the witch who guarded her was afraid of mirrors… The next day at the literary society meeting, I gave my three revised short stories to Sarah. “This is really good!” she said, her eyes lighting up as she read. “Especially this one, ‘The Tower.’ The metaphor is so clever. Are you really just a freshman?” I stared at the tips of my shoes, unaccustomed to praise. “It’s… just something I wrote.” “No, you have talent,” she said seriously. “You have to enter the competition. The deadline is next Friday. Do you want me to look over your final draft?” As I left the student center, a light rain began to fall. I stood under the eaves, watching the raindrops splash on the pavement, and was suddenly reminded of my mother forbidding me from jumping in puddles as a child. I lifted my foot and stomped hard into the nearest puddle. Muddy water splattered my pants, and a strange thrill shot through me. My phone rang again. A video call request from my mother. I took a deep breath and answered. “Maya, where are you? Why is that a classroom building behind you? Aren’t you supposed to be in the library at this time?” Her eyes scanned my background like a searchlight. “I… I just finished an elective class,” I lied, my heart pounding. “What elective? It’s not on your schedule.” “It’s… literary analysis. It was a last-minute addition.” I quickly changed the subject. “Mom, my phone’s about to die. I’ll talk to you tonight.” After hanging up, I realized I was drenched in a cold sweat. It was so easy to lie. My mother wasn’t all-knowing after all. The realization was both terrifying and exhilarating. The following days, I lived a double life, like a spy. By day, I was the obedient student under my mother’s surveillance, sending her check-in screenshots on time and eating meals meticulously calculated to the cent. By night, I scribbled furiously in a corner of the library, pouring years of suppressed imagination into my competition entry. The day I finished the final draft of “The Tower,” I uploaded it to a cloud drive and typed in the submission email address, my fingers trembling. The thousand-dollar prize was the goal, but more importantly, this was the first thing I had ever decided to do entirely on my own. “Once you send it, there’s no turning back,” Sarah said with a smile, standing beside me. I shook my head, clicked send, and watched the words “Message Sent” appear. A wave of relief washed over me. “I won’t turn back.” On the way back to the dorm, the linked account notification chimed—my mother had deposited next week’s “limited allowance.” I stared at the number and suddenly smiled. She didn’t know that her daughter had found another key and was slowly turning the lock on the tower door. 4 Downstairs from the dorm, I saw Chloe holding hands with a boy, saying goodbye. When she saw me, she hesitated for a moment before walking over. “Maya… that’s Ethan, from computer science. We’re…” She blushed. “Congratulations,” I said sincerely. At the same time, I realized that if my mother knew I was associating with a classmate who was in a relationship, she would undoubtedly cut off my allowance completely. Chloe suddenly lowered her voice. “Actually… we all really admire you.” “Admire me?” “Your mom… if it were me, I would have lost my mind by now.” She gave an awkward laugh. “But you’re still doing your own thing. I saw you at the literary society the other day…” I was stunned. My “underground activities” weren’t as secret as I thought. “Um…” Chloe hesitated. “It’s my birthday next week. My boyfriend booked a karaoke room. Can you come? Of course, if your mom…” “I’ll be there,” I interrupted, without hesitation this time. “Whether she agrees or not.” The moment I said it, I felt something shatter inside me. It wasn’t fear. It was the shackles that had bound me for years. That night, my mother called for her usual check-in. I answered her questions calmly while writing a new line in my notebook: Linked account transaction records can be faked. The girl in the tower finally understood that the witch’s power came from her fear. And a mirror would force the witch to see her own twisted reflection.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “393104”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel