Author: Momo Chan

1 The wedding had reached the moment of exchanging rings when my best friend, Charlie, suddenly stepped onto the stage. He was wearing a groom’s tux and had a smug, easy smile on his face. And my fiancée, Elena, in front of a room packed with guests, slid the ring that belonged to me onto his ring finger. I demanded an explanation right then and there. The two of them looked at each other and broke into laughter. Charlie laughed so hard he had to bend over. “Lucas, Elena and I made a bet last night,” he gasped, trying to catch his breath. “She bet that before the wedding started, you’d notice we switched the welcome banner to a photo of her and me. I bet that you trusted us too much to even look.” He flashed the silver band on his finger, his eyes gleeful. “Well, Elena lost. And according to our agreement, this wedding belongs to me now.” Elena stood beside him, her tone completely casual. “It’s just letting Charlie play the groom for a day, Lucas. Everything’s already paid for, and it would be a waste of a perfectly good venue and tux. We can always have another wedding next month. Don’t be such a sore loser.” They always did this. They loved betting on my reactions. At our engagement party, she lost a bet and slipped my engagement ring onto Charlie’s finger first. During our wedding photoshoot, she lost another bet and shot my dream winter landscape concept with Charlie instead of me. Even the study in our new house had been remodeled to fit Charlie’s taste, all because of a lost bet. Every time my heart broke, they would laugh and say, “It’s just a game, Lucas. Why are you taking it so seriously?” But only today did I finally understand. In their eyes, my wedding, my love, and my entire life were nothing but worthless chips they could toss onto a poker table. I looked at Elena, a strange, quiet peace washing over me. When I spoke, my voice was dead calm. “If the wedding is his, then you can be his too.” With that, I turned around to walk away. But Elena grabbed my wrist. “Lucas, that’s enough. All of our friends and family are here. Do you really have to humiliate everyone like this?” I ripped my hand away. “Am I the one causing a scene? Today was supposed to be my wedding!” Elena frowned, her voice dripping with irritation. “I told you, it’s just a one-day experience for Charlie. Once today is over, nothing changes between us. Are you seriously going to break up with me over a silly piece of paper and a ceremony?” She paused, as if remembering something, and let out a soft sneer. “You said the exact same thing last month, claiming you were done with us. And what happened? You ended up buying Charlie’s birthday cake yourself.” Charlie chimed in, grinning. “Yeah, Lucas. Every time you throw a tantrum, you threaten to cut us off. But within three days, you always come crawling back.” He twirled the ring on his finger, his eyes gleeful. “This time, I bet it’ll only take two days. Elena, do you want to bet on it?” Elena looked up at him. “What’s the wager?” “How long it takes for Lucas to crawl back. If he begs you to forgive him within forty-eight hours, you give me that high-end gaming chair from your new house.” Without a second thought, Elena agreed. “Deal. He won’t even last twenty-four hours.” The two of them wagered on my life right in front of me, treating my pain as a fresh, exciting game. I stared at Elena. “Are you really that sure I’ll come back?” Elena’s voice was utterly untroubled. “Lucas, we’ve been together for six years. You spent an entire year planning this wedding. You picked out the hotel, designed the invitations, and handled every detail. Are you telling me you can just throw all of that away?” She knew me too well. That was why she felt so safe pushing me past my limits. Because no matter how badly they behaved, I was always the one who cleaned up their mess. When Charlie ruined my tailored suit for the engagement, I was the one who rushed to replace it. When he ripped up our engagement photos, I was the one who told them it was fine. Even when he hijacked our home design, I was the one who apologized to Elena for being too sensitive. They knew it hurt me. They just knew I would never leave. From the audience, someone laughed and called out, “Come on, Lucas, don’t take it so seriously. Elena and Charlie are just playful. They’ve always been like this. Besides, Charlie is a committed bachelor, he’s never actually going to get married. Just let him have this experience to make up for what he’s missing out on. Canceling your wedding over a harmless joke is a bit petty, don’t you think?” One after another, the guests joined in, urging me to be the bigger person. Not a single person asked if I was willing to give away the day I had dreamed of for years. Elena’s mother stepped onto the stage from the VIP table. She patted Charlie’s shoulder, her eyes full of warmth. “I must say, that ring looks much better on Charlie than it ever would on Lucas.” Charlie grinned. “Mrs. Weston, don’t say that. You’ll hurt Lucas’s feelings.” Elena’s mother shot me a cold look. “If he can’t handle a bit of teasing, how is he going to survive as our son-in-law?” She patted Charlie again. “Honestly, I’ve always preferred you, Charlie. You have a charming personality and you know how to make people happy. Unlike some people who always have to be right, turning every little thing into a massive drama.” Elena’s father walked over, glass in hand. “If Elena lost the bet, she has to pay up. A promise is a promise. It’s no big deal to just throw another wedding for Lucas next month.” I looked at him. “So to you, a wedding is just a party you can rerun whenever you feel like it?” He frowned, annoyed. “It’s just a ceremony. As long as Elena marries you in the end, what do you have to complain about? And honestly, if Charlie weren’t so dead-set on being a bachelor, we would have much preferred her marrying him anyway.” A heavy silence fell over the room. Elena finally noticed the change in my expression and frowned, cutting her father off. “Dad, that’s enough for today.” She turned to me, her voice softening slightly. “My parents just like Charlie’s outgoing nature, Lucas. Don’t take everything so personally.” I laughed. It was funny, really. Every knife they drove into my chest was always wrapped in the excuse of a joke. Charlie stepped closer to Elena. “Hey, let’s not fight because of me. Lucas, since you said the wedding is mine, let me finish the ceremony.” He gestured to my custom-made groom’s suit with a grin. “After all, you get to do this all over again next month.” I didn’t argue. Instead, I pulled out my phone and called the venue manager. “This is Lucas. The groom for today’s wedding has been changed. I am refusing to pay the remaining balance.” There was a long pause on the other end. “Mr. Lucas, didn’t you know?” the manager asked hesitantly. “A month ago, Ms. Elena came in with Mr. Charlie and modified the contract. The groom’s name was officially changed to Charlie a month ago.” My grip on the phone tightened. “A month ago?” “Yes. Mr. Charlie also finalized the menu and the stage decorations. Ms. Elena assured us that all the changes had your full approval.” I stared at the happy couple on stage. There was no spur-of-the-moment bet last night. They had been planning this for an entire month. Fighting the tremor in my voice, I forced out my next question: “And the final payment?” “It was settled last night,” the manager replied. “Ms. Elena authorized a wire transfer of six hundred and eighty thousand dollars from your joint wedding savings account.” I frantically opened my banking app. My balance read exactly three dollars and seventy cents. That money represented every single penny of my savings from five years of grueling work. I had planned to use whatever was left after the wedding to start my own design studio. Seeing my pale face as I stared at my phone, Elena walked down from the stage. “The money is already spent, Lucas. Even if you cancel now, we won’t get a refund.” I glared at her, my voice cracking. “What gave you the right to touch my money without my permission?” Elena answered as if it were the most logical thing in the world. “That money was set aside for a wedding anyway. The wedding is still happening, so it’s not like the money went to waste.” Charlie stood by her side, raising his hand to flash the ring again. “Hey, you said the wedding was a gift, Lucas. Naturally, a gift includes the venue and catering.” Looking at them finishing each other’s sentences, my anger vanished, replaced by a hollow, chilling numbness. They hadn’t just wagered away my wedding day. They had drained my life savings to fund Charlie’s grand moment in the spotlight. As I stepped down from the stage, my mother pushed through the crowd and grabbed my hand. “Lucas, what on earth is happening?” My parents had been seated at the very back of the hall, closest to the exit. They were the only guests from my side of the family. My relatives from our small, blue-collar hometown had all wanted to come, but Elena’s mother had deemed them uncouth and worried they would embarrass her high-society guests. Elena had agreed, saying, “We can just host a small backyard dinner in your hometown later. We don’t need a crowd here.” So my parents had traveled fifteen hours on a cramped overnight train, completely alone, just to see their son get married. My mother’s elegant dress was slightly ill-fitting, its seams adjusted by her own calloused hands with a needle and thread. The “Father of the Groom” boutonniere pinned to my father’s chest was crushed and bent out of shape, but he refused to take it off. But now, seeing Charlie standing in the custom-tailored suit that was made for me, wearing my ring, my father marched up to Elena. “Tell him to take that ring off and apologize to my son.” Elena’s face darkened slightly. “Sir, it’s just a harmless bet. Charlie is just helping Lucas get through the ceremony. Once it’s over, Lucas and I are still getting our marriage license.” My father stared at her, stunned. “You have a wedding with him, but you expect my son to sign the papers? What does that make my son?” Elena frowned. “We’ve always played games like this. Lucas has never had an issue with it before.” My mother trembled with rage. “Just because he’s patient doesn’t mean you can walk all over him!” Her voice cracked, her thick, rural accent slipping out as her emotions took over. Elena’s mother instantly sneered. “Keep your voice down, woman. This isn’t one of your loud country markets. The people here are prominent business clients. Do you want to humiliate us in front of everyone?” Whispers rippled through the nearby tables. “Classic country folks. No manners.” My mother’s face flushed a deep crimson. She had only wanted to protect her son, but now, shamed and self-conscious, she shrank back, her voice barely a whisper. “I’m not trying to make a scene. I just love my son.” A heavy, suffocating pressure crushed my chest. She had done absolutely nothing wrong, yet she was apologizing to the very people who had humiliated her. Elena interrupted impatiently. “Look, the venue is Charlie’s for today. Next month, I’ll go to your hometown and host a dinner. Your relatives can all come. That’s more than enough respect for Lucas.” My father slowly looked up. “So you give a million-dollar wedding to him, and you think you can toss my son a cheap backyard party in the country to brush him off?” Elena’s expression grew hostile. “I already promised to redo it! What more do you want?” Charlie strolled over, adjusting his lapels, and stood right in front of my mother. “Auntie, a party is a party, right? You and Uncle traveled so far.” He pointed to the luxury gift boxes in the corner. “Why don’t you grab a few extra boxes of wedding favors on your way out? You can share them with your neighbors so the trip wasn’t a total waste.” My mother pulled her hand back as if she had touched hot iron. My father ripped the rose boutonniere from his chest and slammed it onto the table. “We might be poor, but we aren’t so poor that we’ll trade our son’s wedding day for a few boxes of candy!” Charlie’s smirk faded slightly. “Uncle, I was only trying to be nice.” Without hesitation, Elena stepped in front of Charlie, shielding him from my father’s furious gaze. “That’s enough! Charlie is trying to be considerate. Stop being so ungrateful.” My father stared at her. “You swore to us on your life that you would love and protect Lucas forever.” Elena avoided his eyes. My father didn’t ask anything else. He didn’t offer any empty comforts. He simply clapped a heavy hand on my shoulder, his voice sounding older, tired. “Lucas, I was wrong about her. We’re not doing this. Let’s go home.” My throat tightened, and I nodded. The entire room had pressured me to swallow my pride. Only my parents, who had been thoroughly insulted, stood tall to shield me. I reached up, tore off my own boutonniere, and held their hands. “Okay. Let’s go home.” Behind us, Elena let out a cold laugh. “Fine, if he wants to play this game, let’s make another bet.” Charlie’s eyes lit up instantly. “I bet Lucas won’t even last three days before he brings his parents back here to beg for your forgiveness.” Elena stared at my retreating back, her voice dripping with absolute confidence. “It won’t even take three days. He’ll cave by this afternoon and beg me to go to the registry office.” “And the wager?” Charlie grinned. “If he doesn’t apologize to you by tonight, that penthouse downtown is yours.” “Deal.” Their shared laughter echoed through the grand hall. Even now, my departure was nothing but a punchline for their next bet. I didn’t look back. As we stepped out into the crisp afternoon air, my father asked softly, “Lucas, are you sure you won’t regret this?” I glanced back at the elegant welcome banner displaying the names of Elena and Charlie side-by-side. Then, I squeezed my parents’ hands tightly. “The only thing I regret is taking this long to see them for who they really are.” At three o’clock, a notification popped up on my phone: Your appointment at the marriage registry is scheduled for today at 4:20 PM. Please bring your valid identification. A second later, a screenshot of the booking arrived from Elena. I’m throwing you a lifeline here, Lucas. Be at the registry office by four. Do that, and I’ll overlook the embarrassing scene you made today. We can still sign the papers. She followed it up with a voice note. “But before we sign anything, you have to apologize to my parents. And to Charlie. You and your family embarrassed him in front of everyone today. He deserves an apology. If you show some genuine remorse, we can put this behind us.” I sent back a simple, two-word reply: “Sounds good.” The group chat went silent. A moment later, Elena tagged Charlie. I won. Charlie replied with a sulking emoji. A bet’s a bet. I guess I’m crashing your honeymoon. Elena immediately shared a screenshot of a newly booked flight ticket. Ticket bought. I stared at the screen. Even the trip I had been looking forward to for months was just another trophy on their gambling table. At 4:15 PM, I arrived at the registry office. Elena was waiting near the glass doors of the lobby. When she saw me, the tension in her shoulders melted, and a smug, familiar smile returned to her lips. “I knew you’d make the right choice, Lucas. My parents and Charlie are still at the hotel waiting. Once we get the license, I’ll go with you to apologize.” She held out her hand. “Give me your ID.” I didn’t move. A second later, two police officers stepped out from behind me. “Elena Weston?” one of them asked, flashing his badge. “We have received a formal complaint against you for grand larceny, specifically for the unauthorized transfer of six hundred and eighty thousand dollars from another individual’s account.” The smile vanished from Elena’s face, leaving her pale. “What do you mean, unauthorized? That was our joint wedding fund!” I pulled out my bank statements and the venue contract. “The account is registered under my name alone, and every dollar came from my personal savings. You took my security code while I was asleep and forged my authorization to pay the venue. I’ve already handed over the bank records, the venue’s security footage, and our chat logs to the police.” The female officer stepped forward, securing the handcuffs around Elena’s wrists. Elena finally panicked, her voice rising in pitch. “Lucas! Aren’t you here to get married?” I looked at her, letting out a soft, dry laugh. “No. I’m here to watch you get locked up.”

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“Jared, sweetie, if I don’t sell this prosthetic limb soon, they are going to fire me!” My fiancé received this desperate plea from his precious childhood sweetheart, Gemma. To help her meet her sales quota, he actually orchestrated a horrific car crash to shatter my limbs, forcing me to buy Gemma’s overpriced, defective prosthetics. The cheap materials led to a severe infection, and I died in agony on a cold hospital bed. But when I opened my eyes again, I was back. Back on the very day of the crash, sitting in the passenger seat of my newly started car. Remembering my fiancé’s deeply superstitious family, a dark smile played on my lips. I gripped the door handle. As a cemetery plot sales representative, I was under huge pressure to meet my sales quota, due before Memorial Day. 1 “Sweetheart, I just realized you were up all night taking client calls. It is too exhausting for you. Let me drive today.” Reborn, I wasted no time unbuckling my seatbelt and opening the car door. In my past life, in less than thirty minutes, a preplanned truck would smash into us on this very road. Jared had deliberately faked a bad phone signal, delaying the ambulance until my severed limbs missed their golden window for reattachment. The memory of that bloody nightmare was still raw in my mind. I was not going to sit here and wait for death. “It is fine, babe. Your office is so far away, and you run around all day. I love doing things for you.” Jared lifted his foot off the gas pedal, squeezing out a smile. He reached over, trying to buckle my seatbelt back in. I stepped out of the car and yanked his door open. “I will drive.” Seeing the absolute resolve in my eyes, Jared’s jaw twitched. His gaze flickered away guiltily. While we were at a standstill, the car’s Bluetooth automatically connected to an incoming call. “Jared, how is it going? Did she break her legs or her arms? When should I bring the sales contract to the hospital?” I pretended not to understand, keeping a calm, pleasant smile fixed on my face as I stared at Jared. “Gemma, I am a bit busy right now. I have not left yet. Let us talk later.” He hung up in a panic, beads of cold sweat breaking out on his forehead. “Oh, well, Gemma just started as a sales rep at a medical prosthetics company. She asked me to recommend some clients so she would not lose her job. I remembered a friend of mine who was recently in a bad wreck, so I wanted to hook them up. I just have not had the chance to introduce them yet.” A cold sneer rippled through my mind. Of course not. Because the client’s legs had not been shattered yet. In my previous life, when Gemma found out my limbs were completely crushed, her ringing laughter echoed in my ears: “Jared, you are amazing! I signed a massive contract. Not only will my boss keep me, but I might even be the top seller of the month!” But this time around, his precious sweetheart’s sales crown would not be so easy to claim. “Jared, I actually had a terrible nightmare last night. I dreamt you drove me to work this morning. You know how treacherous the roads to my office can be. We got into a horrific crash. My limbs were shattered, and you…” I let my voice trail off, looking at him with deep, chilling intensity. He wiped his sweat. “What happened to me?” “Oh, do not ask. It was too gruesome. They had to shovel your remains into a body bag.” I sighed heavily, putting on a show of grief. Jared, who had always been deeply terrified of the paranormal and bad omens, went completely pale. “Such an ominous dream. God must have seen how good a person I am and sent you a warning! We should definitely drive separately today. Our wedding is right around the corner, we cannot have any bad luck!” Terrified out of his wits, Jared slammed on the gas and sped off alone in his own car. I could not tell if he was running out of guilt because I had exposed his plot, or if he was genuinely spooked. I smiled triumphantly and called a cab to my workplace, Havenwood Cemetery. Before this, Jared always claimed Gemma’s office was on his way and only drove her. It was clear his sudden offer to drive me today was packed with malice. Looking down at my perfectly intact limbs, a profound sense of relief washed over me. In my previous life, the moment I arrived at the hospital, the doctors declared my limbs unsalvageable. I was doomed to spend the rest of my days relying on cheap prosthetics. Jared and a smug Gemma, who had been waiting like vultures, marched into my ward to force me to sign the purchase contract. When I refused, Jared dragged me off the bed onto the cold tile floor, stomping brutally onto my freshly stitched stumps. The wounds ruptured, spraying blood across the floor. That was how I was bankrupted, becoming Gemma’s ticket to a promotion as sales manager. He dumped me immediately after and married Gemma at the very venue I had booked. Their mothers practically glowed with joy at the wedding. They even ordered people to throw my personal belongings from the old apartment onto the road so the bridal caravan could run them over repeatedly to dispel the bad luck. All I got was a pair of mismatched, defective prosthetics: two left hands and two right feet. I died alone, shivering from a rampant infection. But now, I was alive, and my boss had just let me off shift early. Humming a tune as I walked out of the cemetery gates, I spotted Jared’s car parked in a secluded patch of woods nearby. The vehicle was rocking violently. As I drew closer, heavy panting and high pitched moans drifted through the cracked window. “Jared, consider this your reward for working so hard for me! When your precious bride to be comes out, do not miss your chance like you did this morning!” “Don’t worry, babe. With you cheering me on like this, I’ll drag her into the car myself if I have to. I will get you that sales commission!” I scoffed quietly. Bending down, I grabbed a thick stack of burnt offering ritual paper from the ground, stuffed it deep into his exhaust pipe, and took a cab home. The moment I walked through the front door, I saw my future mother in law, Helen, locked in an intense game of bridge with her friends. Among them was Gemma’s mother, Beatrice, who was even more superstitious than Helen. Seeing me walk in, they all turned their heads and spat on the floor three times. “What bad luck! May the spirits forgive us!” Accustomed to their hostility, I ignored them. I stood behind them, watching the game while humming a light tune, which only made them glare harder. “Audrey, have you no shame?” Helen slammed her cards down, glaring at me. “Working in a depressing place like that all day, and then coming home to ruin our luck!” “Oh, Helen, do not get worked up,” Beatrice chimed in, dripping with smug satisfaction. “Who told your son to propose to a cemetery worker when he could have married my highly educated daughter? You brought this on yourselves.” I let out a soft laugh. Who knew selling fake limbs made someone a highly educated elite now? Before Helen could snap back, the phone call I had been waiting for finally arrived. I immediately pressed the speakerphone button. Jared’s trembling, terrified voice filled the living room. “Audrey! Is there a curse on your cemetery? I came to pick you up out of the goodness of my heart, and my car suddenly caught fire on the road! It was spitting ash and burnt paper from the exhaust! The car is a total loss!” At this, Helen could not care less about the card game. “You have not even married into this family yet, and you have already ruined my son’s luxury car! You jinx! Your parents died because of your bad luck, and now you work in a graveyard! If anything happens to my Jared, I will make you pay!” Thinking of Jared’s terrible second hand luxury car, I suppressed a chuckle and forced a vulnerable, trembling expression onto my face. “Mom, I told you I had that nightmare last night. It warned me that if we shared a car, we would have a horrific accident. Today is right before Memorial Day, and my company hired a high priest to perform a cleansing ritual. I prayed so hard… maybe the spirits were protecting us by warning me in my dream.” Helen’s eyes lit up. She snatched the phone from my hand. “That’s right! Son, from now on, you are not allowed to ride in the same car as her! Do not let this curse touch you!” Over the line, I could hear Gemma huffing in frustration, but I ignored it. I reached into my bag and pulled out several embroidered sachets. “Ladies, the priest who did the cleansing is highly renowned. I bought these protective sachets for all of you to keep the bad energy away, especially around Memorial Day. It is for your safety.” Helen’s scowl softened into approval, and Beatrice’s eyes gleamed with greedy delight as she took one. “Well, at least you are somewhat useful,” Helen muttered, hanging the sachet around her neck and keeping one for her son. “You are the biggest bad luck jinx around here. Wearing this might actually block some of your negative energy.” Both women loved temple trinkets and blessed charms, so they readily accepted them. What they did not realize was that the patterns on these sachets were very specific. Jared returned shortly after, his face deathly pale. He clearly had not recovered from the shock of his car catching fire. Helen rushed over and hung the sachet around his neck. “Look how terrified my baby is! You only got into this mess because you pampered this jinx by picking her up! I swear, we need to rethink this wedding. I would be too embarrassed to look our guests in the eye if they found out what she does for a living!” Jared glanced at me. Seeing my submissive, quiet demeanor, he let out a sigh of relief. I knew he would not let me go. Not until he could squeeze every cent out of me to buy Gemma’s prosthetics. I stepped forward with a warm, eager smile. “Mom, today was entirely my fault. Jared got scared because of me. Let me make it up to you.” I held up the keys to the brand new car I had picked up this afternoon. The moment they saw the keys, their scowls instantly vanished into broad, greedy smiles. The next morning, as I stepped out, I saw Jared and his mother loading my new car with luggage. Gemma and her mother were already sitting inside, looking like they were heading off on a luxury vacation. Even more ridiculous, all four of them were wearing matching family outfits, complete with bright gold embroidery on their chests. As they rolled past me, Gemma made Jared slow down. She rolled down the passenger window, a mocking smirk on her lips. “Morning, Audrey! Sorry about this, but since you and Jared cannot ride in the same car, we decided to take your new ride for a spin. You do not mind us breaking it in for you, do you?” Through the window, I could see her hand resting firmly on Jared’s thigh. Helen sat regally in the back, barely deigning to look at me. “My son is doing her a favor by driving her car. He is too kindhearted, always doing charity work. Otherwise, who would want a jinx like her? Even a beggar would turn her down.” Without waiting for my response, they laughed loudly, and Jared slammed on the gas. As they sped away, the two of them leaned out to share a kiss while flipping me off through the window. I smiled serenely, entirely unbothered. I pulled out my phone and tapped into the hidden camera feed I had installed in the car. Helen’s loud, angry voice filled my screen. “You two were childhood sweethearts. If only you had married Gemma instead of that trash!” Then, Gemma excitedly laid out their grand scheme to the two older women. Hearing the plan, Helen finally burst into a hearty, satisfied laugh. “Gemma, you really are brilliant! This way, we can bleed that orphan dry, throw her out, and use her wedding venue for you and Jared. It is flawless!” Beatrice rolled her eyes proudly. “My Gemma has always been a genius. It is just a shame she did not do well on her college exams, otherwise Jared would not have had to settle for that graveyard girl. Now that Gemma is back with her master’s degree, she will show everyone what she is made of! But if she cannot ride with Jared, how are we going to break her limbs?” “That is easy,” Helen sneered. “We will invite her hiking next time. We can just push her off a steep ledge. Just make sure she does not die on impact.” Jared looked at Gemma with sheer adoration, his eyes growing hazy. “Gemma, you are not just smart, you are absolutely gorgeous. Your skin is so soft, and your body… God, I cannot wait to wrap my hands around you…” The older women stared in shock at Jared, whose face was flushed as he started drooling. “Jared, what nonsense are you talking? Your mothers are right here!” Gemma snapped, trying to pull her hand away. But Jared grabbed it tightly and guided it down to his lap. “Gemma, don’t you love doing it in the car? Let us make this drive exciting. Let us do it while I drive!” “You animal! My daughter is a decent, highly educated woman, and you are trying to ruin her right in front of us!” Beatrice shrieked in fury, lunging forward to grab Jared’s collar. Helen and Gemma scrambled to pull her back, and the cabin of the compact car descended into pure chaos. The car began to swerve wildly across the winding mountain road. Jared seemed to snap out of his daze just as a stray cat darted across the pavement. In a panic, he slammed on the brakes. The heavy vehicle skidded violently, its momentum carrying it over the edge of the cliff. The car ground to a halt with its front wheels dangling precariously in mid-air, spinning over the empty abyss. “Jared, are you insane? Thank God we are good people and the heavens protected us, or we would be dead!” By the time they crawled out of the back doors, their legs were shaking so violently they could barely stand. Remembering her son’s bizarre behavior right before the near-crash, Helen was white with rage. Jared took several deep breaths, then burst into loud, pathetic wails. “I don’t know what happened to me! The moment I looked at Gemma, I lost all control. I felt possessed!” Beatrice’s eyes darted around. “Have you two done something to offend the spirits recently? Tell the truth, or we might lose our lives next time!” Blushing, Gemma hesitantly confessed to their midday tryst right outside the cemetery gates the day before. “No wonder! The wedding is in a few weeks, and you two had to do that in a place where the dead rest? The car spitting ash yesterday was a warning! We need to find a spiritual medium right away, or we will all die before we can even touch Audrey’s money!” Watching the four of them clutch the sachets I gave them, kneeling in a neat row at the edge of the cliff to pray to the heavens, I nearly choked on my laughter. They would never guess that the scent from those sachets, when combined with the specific air freshener in my new car, acted as a potent aphrodisiac specifically designed for the driver. I chose that exact moment to dial Jared’s number. “Sweetheart, are you guys having fun? How is the new car?” Jared quickly brushed it off, his voice trembling. “Oh… it is great. Just a minor hiccup, we are handling it.” “That is a relief,” I said warmly. “As long as you are safe. I spent all my savings on that car, but I consider it part of my dowry anyway!” The moment I hung up, all four of their faces drained of color. “She spent all her money on the car? What about my prosthetic sales commission?” Gemma hissed, gnashing her teeth. “Don’t worry,” Jared sneered, pulling out a contact card for a predatory high interest loan. “We will make her take out a massive loan. Once she is dead, she won’t have to pay it back anyway.” They all shared a wicked, dark laugh. I looked down at the four cemetery plot registration forms in my hands, my smile far brighter than theirs. They would be needing these very soon.

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When the Summer family finally dragged me back to their mansion, I had just finished a warm-up session at Marcus’s boxing gym. I stood in their pristine living room, covered in a sun-kissed tan with defined, pumping muscles. My biological parents, who had clearly prepared a whole speech to humiliate me, froze in dead silence. They had brought me back for one reason: an arranged marriage. They wanted me to marry the heir of the Vance family—Damian Vance. Rumor had it that he was a violent psychopath who had already hospitalized or terrified ten of his previous fiancées. Chloe, the adopted daughter who had been fake-crying on the sofa, stared at my twitching biceps. Her tears instantly dried up. She trembled and shrank behind our brother. “Julian… are you sure Damian is the one who’s going to bully her?” Julian looked down at his own slender wrists, then at my bulky, shredded physique. He silently took a step back. I jumped on the spot, throwing two lightning-fast shadow punches into the air. “So, I heard this guy has a nasty temper and loves throwing wild hooks?” My biological father, Richard, let out an awkward cough. “Yes… he is… extremely violent.” I slapped my thigh, a massive grin spreading across my face. “Holy shit, why didn’t you say so earlier? This is perfect! I was literally just looking for a decent sparring partner.”

I had lived for twenty years, and I honestly never expected to be some long-lost billionaire’s daughter. But what I expected even less was that my biological parents only brought me back to use me as a sacrificial lamb for a business merger. Wearing my sweat-soaked tank top, I slammed a one-hundred-pound barbell plate onto the Summers’ million-dollar marble floor. Tiny cracks instantly spiderwebbed across the polished stone. The entire living room fell dead silent. My biological parents, who had prepared a lecture on “high-society rules” to put me in my place, were now staring blankly at my engorged biceps. Eleanor, my biological mother, was the first to react. Pinching her nose in disgust, she took a step back. “Roxy! Is this how that street coach raised you? You reek of sweat and look completely savage! You don’t have a single ounce of femininity!” Richard, my biological father, kept his face dark. He didn’t bother beating around the bush and threw a marriage contract onto the table. “Enough. Let’s make this quick. Our family’s real estate empire is facing a massive liquidity crisis. We need the Vance family’s bailout. Damian Vance is looking for a wife. Since you’re back, you’re taking Chloe’s place.” I raised an eyebrow. On the way here, the chauffeur had given me the rundown on this Damian Vance. Supposedly, the guy had severe intermittent explosive disorder and a serious penchant for violence. He was completely unpredictable. He had driven away ten fiancées, and rumor had it two of them were still recovering in the ICU. Simply put, whoever married him was going to be a human punching bag. Chloe, who had been sobbing in the corner of the sofa, suddenly stopped crying. She looked at my thighs, which were wider than her waist, and then at the bulging veins on my arms as I casually spun the barbell plate with one hand. She scrambled behind Richard, trembling. “Dad… wait. No matter how violent Damian is, he’s still just a human.” Chloe’s voice shook. “If Roxy goes… Damian might actually get killed. Shouldn’t we… leave the man a survival option?” Julian sneered, pointing a finger directly at my face. “Chloe, you’re overthinking this! She’s just a white-trash girl from the slums. What does she have besides brute force? Damian is surrounded by elite bodyguards. What could she possibly do?” He glared at me. “Roxy, let me warn you. Don’t think you’re hot shit just because you can fight. Once you’re at the Vance estate, you better lock up your savage attitude. Even if he tortures you, you will smile and take it! Otherwise, you’ll drag our entire family down with you!” I stared at Julian coldly, cracking my knuckles one by one. Crack. Crack. Crack. Julian flinched, his face turning pale as he stumbled two steps backward. “That’s enough!” Richard slammed his hand on the table, pulling something out from behind him and tossing it onto the floor. It was an old, battered pair of red boxing gloves. My pupils dilated. “Roxy, don’t think I don’t know what you’re planning,” Richard said, looking down at me with pure malice. “Your underground-fighter adoptive dad, Marcus, runs a pathetic little gym in South Brooklyn, right? It just so happens that I bought the land deed to that entire block.” He stepped on the red boxing gloves, grinding his expensive leather shoe into them. “If you don’t want your useless adoptive father thrown onto the streets, you will put on a dress tonight, go to the gala, and get married!” I stared at the crushed gloves, my jaw clenched so hard my teeth ached. Those gloves were Marcus’s pride—the ones he wore when he won his bare-knuckle championship years ago. “Roxy…” Chloe timidly offered me a towel, her eyes red. “Please don’t fight with Dad. I’m sorry… I was too scared to go. I’m so useless…” I took a deep breath, forcing down the urge to snap Richard’s neck, and snatched the towel. “Fine,” I said, my voice ice-cold. “I’ll go.” For Marcus’s sake, I would endure this. But I didn’t tell Richard the very first rule Marcus had taught me: Once you step into the ring, survival is the only rule.

By the afternoon, Eleanor had hired the most ruthless high-society deportment coach in the city. “Miss Summer, a lady’s spine must never bend!” The coach glared at my relaxed stance. Frowning, she pulled out a long sewing pin and walked behind me, aiming to prick my back to force me to stand straight. Snap! A sharp sound echoed. The pin snapped in half. My trapezius and latissimus dorsi muscles, forged from years of heavy squats, were not something a tiny pin could penetrate. The coach held the broken needle, looking like she had just seen a ghost. Gulping, she changed tactics. She placed a bowl of water on my head and ordered me to do a runway walk, demanding “soft, elegant steps.” Annoyed, I rested my hand on the mahogany dining table. “Are we done yet?” The moment the words left my mouth, my grip tightened, and I literally crushed a chunk of the solid mahogany corner into splinters. Eleanor gasped behind me, nearly fainting. But for the sake of the marriage alliance, she forced herself to stay quiet and hurriedly dismissed the coach. I lay back on the sofa, closing my eyes to rest. The door creaked open, and Chloe sneaked in. She slid a small bottle of muscle rub into my hand, her eyes welling with tears. “Roxy… I’m so sorry. I’m just so afraid of pain, which is why I let them force you…” She took a deep breath, clenching her small fists as if making a life-changing decision. “But don’t worry! I’ll save up my allowance secretly! In the future, if Damian beats you up, I will pay for all your medical bills! I won’t let you get hurt for nothing!” Looking at her stupid but brave face, I couldn’t help but pinch her soft, chubby cheek. I had to admit, it felt pretty nice. Though this fake sister of mine was weak and cowardly, she at least had a conscience. She was much better than the other snakes in this house. Before I could say anything, a burst of loud laughter came from the hallway. Julian walked in, flanked by a few of his rich, spoiled friends. Seeing me, the guys didn’t even try to hide their mockery. “Whoa, Julian, is this the long-lost sister you guys found? Damn, with that dark skin and those muscles, she’d be great at a construction site!” Julian sneered, his eyes filled with absolute disdain. “What do you expect? She was raised by a trashy underground street fighter. She smells like garbage and behaves like a beast. She’s only fit to be a punching bag for the Vance family’s maniac.” The moment he said “trashy underground street fighter,” I stood up. Julian’s arrogant face drained of color. His knees buckled, and he fell backward onto the sofa, his voice cracking into a high pitch. “What… what do you think you’re doing!” “Roxy!” Richard walked out of his second-floor study, waving the land deed in his hand. “Don’t you dare touch your brother. Try it, and I will have that dump of a gym demolished by tomorrow morning!” I stared at the deed, my fists clenched so hard my palms began to bleed. Taking a deep breath, I forced the violent urge back down. “I don’t need you to remind me,” I said, my voice dead. That evening, Eleanor sent over a expensive, diamond-encrusted strapless gown. I threw it straight into the trash can. Instead, I dug through the closet and found a sharp, custom-tailored black tuxedo. When I put on the suit, tied the tie, and pulled my messy hair back into a sleek, high ponytail, the person in the mirror was no longer a lamb waiting for the slaughter. My broad shoulders filled out the suit perfectly. My tight waist highlighted my explosive frame, and my long legs looked deadly and elegant. I sneered at my reflection. Damian Vance, huh? I hope you can last three rounds under my fists.

As the city lights began to glow, the Vance family’s luxury yacht docked at the harbor. When I stepped into the grand ballroom wearing my black tuxedo and three-inch stiletto heels, the noisy chatter instantly died down. Then, a wave of hushed whispers washed over the room. “Is that the girl the Summers found from the slums? Why is she dressed like a bodyguard?” “Look at those shoulders. If she walks any closer, I’m afraid she’ll decapitate me with one punch.” “Hilarious. No wonder they’re giving her to Damian. She looks like she can actually survive a beating.” I didn’t even blink at the mocking whispers of the high-society girls. Richard and Eleanor felt completely humiliated and walked far ahead, keeping their distance from me. Suddenly, a loud, obnoxious voice broke the peace. “Well, well, if it isn’t the adopted Summer girl. You look pretty cute tonight. Come on, let’s go to the deck and have a drink!” A young man in a loud designer shirt, reeking of alcohol, stumbled over. He grabbed Chloe by the wrist, his greasy eyes scanning her up and down. Chloe paled, trying desperately to pull away. “What are you doing? Let go of me! Dad! Julian! Help me!” She looked at her family in despair. However, Richard didn’t move. In fact, he grabbed Julian to keep him from stepping in. He even bowed slightly toward the drunk man. “It is Chloe’s honor that you fancy her, Mr. Vance! Chloe, be good, go have a drink with him!” I frowned. So this piece of trash was Chad Vance, a distant cousin of the Vance family who used his family’s name to terrorize the city. Tears streamed down Chloe’s face as she cried out in despair, her eyes frantically searching the crowd for help. Finally, her gaze landed on me. My eyes darkened. Just as I was about to step forward, Chad let go of Chloe and stumbled toward me. He looked me up and down with a disgusting smirk. “Ah, I know you. You’re the scapegoat the Summers brought in to marry Damian, right? Damn, you look pretty tough. Damian’s going to have a lot of fun breaking you tonight.” Grinning drunkenly, he reached out his hand, trying to slap my cheek playfully. “I heard you’re good at taking hits. Since you’re going to be our family’s punching bag anyway, why don’t you let me test the goods first?” The crowd erupted into laughter. Not a single person stepped forward to stop him. “Roxy! Stand still!” Richard hissed, whispering a venomous warning into my ear. “Do not offend a Vance! Even if he slaps you today, you will smile and take it! Think about your father’s gym!” The man’s hand, smelling of stale alcohol, was now less than two inches from my face. I looked down at the sharp, needle-like heels of my stilettos. Suddenly, Marcus’s voice echoed in my mind, back when he used to tap my shoulders with a ruler in the gym. “Roxy, as fighters, we must have honor. We don’t start fights, and we don’t bully the weak.” I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. I will give you exactly three more seconds of my patience.

The man’s hand was now less than an inch away. Sorry, Marcus. But tonight, I’m putting honor on hold. A sharp, splintering sound shattered the ballroom atmosphere. My stiletto heel violently stomped through the yacht’s expensive solid-wood flooring, pinning myself firmly to the deck! Chad froze. I opened my eyes, a wild, predatory excitement blooming in my chest. I grabbed his outstretched wrist and twisted it downward. “AAARGH!” A squeal like a slaughtered pig tore through the air. Disgusted, I tossed his arm aside, ripped off my restrictive black suit jacket, and kicked off my heels. Beneath my suit pants, my ankles were wrapped tightly in professional MMA hand wraps. Before Chad could recover, I dropped my shoulder, grabbed his collar and belt, and executed a flawless, high-amplitude hip throw! A one-hundred-and-eighty-pound grown man flew through the air in a perfect arc, crashing headfirst into the seven-tier champagne tower in the center of the room! Glass exploded, and expensive champagne rained down. Chad twitched twice on the floor before passing out cold amidst the shards. The room went dead silent for two seconds before the wealthy guests erupted into terrified screams. “Roxy! Are you out of your fucking mind?!” Richard looked like he was about to have a stroke, his pointing finger shaking violently. “This is Vance property! You’re going to get us all killed!” In the corner, Chloe stood with her hands over her mouth, completely awestruck. There was a glimmer of sheer, unfiltered admiration in her eyes. I casually rolled my shoulders, my neck popping loudly. “What are you screaming for?” I sneered at Richard. “Didn’t you say the Vances love violence? I’m just adapting early. Showing off my core competency.” “Is that so?” A deep, raspy voice echoed from the entrance. The heavy double doors of the ballroom were pushed open by two rows of imposing bodyguards in black suits. The crowd parted instantly, fleeing to the sides like they were escaping a monster. The legendary, terrifying heir of the Vance empire—Damian Vance—stepped over the wreckage. He was nearly six-foot-three, with a dark, suffocatingly oppressive face. As he walked, he slipped off his expensive suit coat, tossing it to a bodyguard, and began slowly unbuttoning his silver cufflinks. Even beneath his dress shirt, the outline of his dense, powerful muscles and explosive strength was terrifyingly clear. The dark, bloody aura radiating from him made it hard for anyone in the room to breathe. Richard’s knees buckled, and he collapsed to the floor, his face white. Chloe closed her eyes, unable to watch the bloody scene she assumed was about to happen. Damian stopped exactly three paces away from me. His pitch-black eyes locked onto mine. Everyone in the room knew it: Roxy Summer was a dead woman walking. But instead of taking a step back, the blood in my veins began to boil with pure excitement. I licked my lips, staring straight at him. Slowly, I pulled off my silk tie, tore off the hem of my shirt, and wrapped the cloth tightly around my knuckles, making a makeshift pair of hand wraps. My eyes gleamed as I scanned his stance and his center of gravity. “Your base is solid. You’re a real fighter,” I said. I tapped my wrapped fists together and flashed him a wild, cocky grin. “So, Mr. Vance. Are we doing UFC rules tonight, or raw, unrestricted street fighting?” “Oh, and just to be clear… if I accidentally kill you, your family won’t sue mine, right?”

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My husband, Ethan, who eloped to Europe with his little mistress five years ago, was in the terminal stage of lung cancer. Right before he died, he endured a ten-hour flight, dragging his half-dead body back to me. Holding onto his very last breath, he stared at me with fake devotion, leaned in, and whispered in my ear: “Chloe, I know you have a good heart. After I’m gone, please… please take care of Hailey and our baby…” I couldn’t believe this asshole had the nerve to make such a shameless request on his deathbed. I let out a cold laugh. “Sure. I’ll make sure they are very well taken care of.” The moment Ethan drew his last breath, I immediately called someone to drag him to the crematorium. I wasn’t going to waste a single penny hiring a proper hearse for his cursed corpse. I wrapped him in a ragged bedsheet and called a local junk removal guy. I handed him $50 to toss the body into the back of his rusty pickup truck and drive it to the crematorium. At the crematorium, I completely ignored the judgmental stares of the staff and said directly: “Give me the cheapest cremation package. Just burn him to ashes, that’s all I care about.” While Ethan’s body was literally smoking inside the furnace, his beloved little princess, Hailey, rushed in. She collapsed right outside the cremation room, wailing like a banshee, snot and tears dripping down her face. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think she was Ethan’s rightful wife. I felt a surge of petty satisfaction. Wow, quite the performance. Ethan really didn’t spoil you for nothing these past few years. Hailey was holding a baby in her arms, and the poor thing was looking around, completely confused. Once she was done with her dramatic crying session, Hailey wiped her tears and walked straight up to me. She pointed her freshly manicured hand at me and demanded, “Venmo me $200 first. The baby is out of formula.” I burst out laughing on the spot. “Your baby is out of formula? How is that my fucking problem?!” Hailey’s eyes widened. “Chloe Miller, don’t play dumb with me!” “Ethan begged you to take care of us before he died!” “If my baby starves to death, how are you going to face his ghost?!” I casually toyed with my Gucci bag. “He did say that before he kicked the bucket. But—” I smirked, looking her up and down. “I never agreed to it.” “He cheated on me, and now he wants me to raise his mistress and love child? Please, I’m not insane.” Hailey got frantic, her voice screeching to a higher pitch. “What do you mean love child! Chloe, do you have a conscience?!” “You are barren! You couldn’t give Ethan a child to carry on the Carter family legacy. It was me, Hailey, who gave him a son! I did your job for you! I fulfilled your duty as the daughter-in-law of the Carter family!” The more she spoke, the more arrogant she became, practically rolling her eyes to the ceiling. “If it weren’t for me, you would be the disgrace of the Carter family!” “You should be grateful to me! You should serve me delicious food and help me raise Ethan’s son! Do you get it?!” She was right about one thing—I was medically unable to have children. But the Carters were just a bunch of hillbillies from a rundown farmhouse in a middle-of-nowhere small town, where they literally raised pigs in the backyard. They weren’t some royal family. What “legacy” was there to inherit? Inherit their poverty? I smiled coldly. “Too bad I have no money! Didn’t you two steal everything I had?” I wasn’t lying. Five years ago, right before they eloped, they took advantage of the fact that I was teaching a class and robbed my house blind. My Chanel lambskin bag! My Van Cleef & Arpels bracelet! My designer fur coat! All of it became the capital for their luxurious, wild life abroad. Before they left, Hailey even kicked my dog. My poor golden retriever was so traumatized he didn’t eat properly for three days. Hearing me say “no money,” Hailey’s eyes darted to my bag again. She pointed at my Gucci bag. “If you don’t have money, how can you afford such an expensive bag?” “It’s a fake.” She then pointed to my red Audi parked outside the crematorium. “If you don’t have money, how do you drive such a nice car?” “It’s a rental.”

Hailey was so choked up with anger she couldn’t say a word. Suddenly, the baby in her arms started crying from hunger. Hearing the baby cry, Hailey’s arrogant attitude instantly vanished. She took a step closer to me, her voice softening. “Look at how hungry the baby is. Just give me some cash for formula.” “I’ve been a stay-at-home mom these past few years. All the money we spent was Ethan’s.” “Who knew he would suddenly get lung cancer? He spent every last cent on treatments and even sold our apartment! He didn’t leave us a single dime!” “You know I didn’t even finish high school. I can’t find a job to support a baby.” “Ethan told me to come to you before he died. He said you are sweet and kind, and that for the sake of your marriage, you wouldn’t abandon his child.” With that, she lifted the crying baby toward my face, trying to play the pity card. I took a glance. The baby was actually quite chubby and cute, with rosy cheeks. He was rooting around with his tiny mouth, looking for milk. Adorable. Too bad… He wasn’t mine. If he starved, it had nothing to do with me. “I don’t have money. Believe it or not.” I threw those cold words at her, turned around, and walked away. “Wait!” Hailey quickly blocked my path. Seeing that her pity act didn’t work, panic flashed in her eyes. She slipped a heavy, thick gold bracelet off her wrist and practically begged, “This was the token of love Ethan gave me. It’s a Carter family heirloom. I couldn’t bear to sell it. Can I leave this with you as collateral? Just lend me some money to buy formula first…” Unbelievable. I was married to Ethan for seven years, and I never knew his family had a “gold heirloom.” I didn’t expect such a nice thing to end up on her wrist. “Oh, this precious thing is the symbol of your beautiful love. I wouldn’t dare to take it!” Hailey panicked and thrust the baby closer to me again. “Chloe Miller! Look at how cute this baby is! Do you really have the heart to let such an innocent baby starve?!” “Of course I do. I’m not his mother!” I left her with those words and drove away, leaving Hailey standing there in utter shock.

After cremating Ethan and brushing off Hailey, my mood had been absolutely fantastic for the past few days. I was having dinner at home, humming a song, when suddenly, there was a loud knock on my door. I looked through the peephole. A local police officer was standing outside. Next to him were Ethan’s parents, both looking incredibly sullen. Hailey was holding the baby, hiding behind Ethan’s mother, Margaret, sobbing dramatically like a victim in a soap opera. The moment I opened the door, Margaret barged in aggressively, pointing her finger at my face and screaming— “Chloe Miller! Where did you bury my son?!” “Oh, you mean that?” I raised an eyebrow calmly, walked over to the trash can, fished out a box, and threw it at Margaret’s feet. “Here. Your son’s ashes. Take them and get out of my sight before I throw them into the dumpster.” “You… you…! How dare you put my son in a cheap cardboard box!” Margaret lost her mind, lunging at me. The police officer had to hold her back. I pointed at the box with a bright smile. “Hey, look closely. That’s not a cheap cardboard box. That’s a high-end Chanel shoe box!” “Your son got to lie in Chanel after he died. Honestly, he lived a successful life!” Hearing this, Margaret gasped, her eyes rolling back as she fainted into her husband, George’s, arms. I didn’t bother looking at her and politely turned to the police officer. “Officer, how can I help you?” I glared at Hailey, then smiled at the cop. “It’s not illegal for me to refuse to raise my ex-husband’s mistress and their love child, right?” “No, no,” the officer replied, looking like he was enjoying the drama. “I’m not here for that.” He pointed at Margaret. “This lady claims that the apartment you are living in right now was her son’s pre-marital property.” “Now that her son is dead, and since you refuse to help raise the child, she wants to reclaim this apartment so she can sell it to support her grandson.” “She called me here today to supervise your eviction.” “Exactly! It means pack your bags and get the hell out!” Hailey added triumphantly. Hearing the word “eviction,” I suddenly got excited. This apartment was indeed Ethan’s personal property before we got married. According to the law, after his death, I really had no right to keep it. Although the Carters were dirt poor, Ethan was quite a handsome guy when he was younger. With his curly hair and green eyes, he used to charm a lot of girls. He had been a sugar baby for a wealthy older woman back in the day. When she got tired of him and wanted to dump him, he wouldn’t let her go. To get rid of him, the wealthy woman gave him this apartment as a parting gift. Later, he hid this shameful past and used his handsome face to deceive me—a naive girl who had just graduated from college. He told me he bought this apartment because he won a lottery. He also brainwashed me into believing he was a devoted child-free guy who didn’t care about my infertility. Just like that, I moved into this apartment with millions of dollars in wedding funds my parents had worked their entire lives to save for me. I moved in with beautiful dreams of a happy marriage, only to be scammed until I almost had nothing left.

“Officer, if this apartment really belonged to Ethan, I would gladly pack up and leave.” “However,” I pulled a property deed from my nightstand and handed it to the cop with a smile. “Take a look. The legal owner of this apartment is actually my dad.” The officer took the deed, checked it, and nodded at me. “Yes, the property is indeed registered under Arthur Miller.” “Impossible! That’s impossible!!!” “My son worked so hard serving that rich woman to get this apartment! How could…” Margaret, who had just “fainted,” sprang back to life like a coiled spring. She snatched the deed from the officer’s hand. When she saw the words: Property Owner: Arthur Miller Ownership: Sole Ownership She started pacing around the living room, stomping her feet in a frenzy. “How is this possible!” “Officer, you need to investigate her! This deed must be fake!” Hailey was also dumbfounded. She grabbed the deed, stared at it, and her face went completely pale. Ethan’s dad, George, reached out to support her, but after a timid glance at his wife, Margaret, he quickly pulled his hand back. I smiled at Margaret. “The deed is real. Your son voluntarily gifted this apartment to my father.” I pulled out a signed Property Gift Agreement from the drawer and tossed it at Margaret. “See for yourself. Is that your son’s signature?” Margaret was completely devastated. She collapsed onto the floor like a puddle of water, muttering, “How… how did this happen…” The police officer, fully invested in the gossip now, asked, “Ms. Miller, what exactly is going on here?” I smiled and opened my laptop, playing a video from five years ago. It was the security footage from my living room. In the video, Hailey and Ethan walked into my apartment and started looting the place like bandits. My Chanel bag—taken! My Van Cleef & Arpels bracelet—taken! My designer fur coat—taken! Just like that, under the bright light of day, my millions of dollars worth of wedding gifts were stuffed into their trash bags. Ethan never dreamed that I had security cameras installed. I had originally installed them to watch my dog while I was at work, but they ended up capturing their shameless theft. “Officer, these luxury goods were pre-marital assets gifted by my parents. Ethan stole and sold them. Does that count as grand theft and trafficking stolen goods?” “Absolutely,” the officer nodded firmly. “Exactly.” I smirked at Hailey. “Did you really think I wouldn’t do anything about it?” “Right after you two ran away, I hired a private investigator to track you down.” “I had the investigator warn Ethan: if he didn’t return my things, I would hand the footage to the police. Stealing millions of dollars worth of goods is enough to put both of you in federal prison for a very long time!” “Ethan was scared out of his mind. He told me he had already sold everything and deposited the money into Hailey’s bank account.” “To avoid prison, he had no choice but to transfer the title of this apartment to my dad as compensation.” I gave Hailey a sweet, dazzling smile. “In fact, I should thank you, Hailey!” “Over the past five years, the housing market in this area boomed. This apartment is now worth over two million dollars! It’s worth way more than the stuff you stole!” Hailey’s eyes went wide, and she fainted for real this time.

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My boyfriend brought home a “stray” cat. He claimed he was way too busy at work and asked me to look after it. But the moment he left, I heard the cat mutter under its breath: “Ugh! Who are you calling a stray? You cheap, cheating scumbag!” Then, it turned its head toward me. Its voice was filled with pure frustration. “I’m a purebred Maine Coon! I cost eighty thousand dollars, honey!” “I was supposed to be a romantic gift from your boyfriend to your best friend. But those two realized I’m way too high-maintenance. They were too lazy to feed me, so they dumped me on you. And you’re actually standing there smiling?” Skeptical, I took a picture of the scruffy-looking cat and searched it online. To my shock, it really was an incredibly rare, expensive breed. Seeing my dumbfounded expression, the cat continued its sassy rant. “See? I told you you’re clueless. You’re even about to give up that prestigious clinical fellowship to your ‘bestie’.” “You think doing that will save you from a long-distance relationship? Let me tell you, he’s already got his transfer approved. He’s moving to the branch office over there soon. They’ve already picked out a loft to move in together!” “Yours truly heard that once she gets back from the fellowship, her career will skyrocket. That vacant Chief of Medicine position is being kept warm just for her!” I immediately opened my laptop, wrote my application overnight, and sent it to the chief’s inbox right before the deadline.

In our Snapchat group chat. Maya sent a voice note, her voice sickeningly sweet and babyish: “Chloe, what am I going to do when I move to Chicago? I’m going to miss you so much!” Ethan immediately followed up with a text, speaking as if it were the most natural thing in the world: “We should pitch in and help Maya rent a nice apartment. It’s not safe for a girl to live alone in a new city.” I didn’t reply. They just kept chatting away without me. “Ethan, you’re not Chloe’s husband yet! Don’t you dare touch my bestie’s money, even if it’s for me!” “Oh, stop pretending. Who was the one crying on FaceTime last time because some creep followed her after a night shift? Let’s get you a safe place so you don’t cry again.” “Hmph, and who was the one who used ‘chasing away a creep’ as an excuse to drink half my bottle of Cabernet, pass out on my couch, and force me to drag him back?” I quietly closed the app. Maya was my college roommate for four years. She came from a poor background, so I constantly helped her out financially. Her favorite catchphrase was always, “What would I do without you?” And Ethan was my childhood sweetheart of over ten years. The only reason they even knew each other was because of me. My phone suddenly buzzed. It was a notification saying my car allocation had been approved. I had been eyeing that dream car for over six months. Finally, I could buy it. As I was planning the payment, the cat’s voice drifted over lazily in my head: “Why waste money on a depreciating car? Buy real estate! It’s way better!” I froze. “Property in this city? I don’t even have enough for a down payment.” The cat rolled its eyes, its tail swishing imperiously. “Who said anything about buying luxury condos? Buy the pigsties!” “Yours truly has connections in the feline world. A fat orange cat from the city planning commissioner’s house told me that area is about to be acquired for a massive Disneyland expansion. Eight hundred thousand dollars will turn into ten million. Do you get it, dummy?” I stared at the “Congratulations, you’re approved!” notification for five seconds, then resolutely canceled my car reservation. Ethan’s call came through a second later. He demanded, “Why did you cancel the car reservation?” I realized that since he knew more about cars, I had used his phone number for the reservation updates. Then, his tone shifted effortlessly. “Actually, since Maya is moving to a new city, commuting will be tough for her. Why don’t we use that money to buy her a car instead?” Wow. They really were leeching off of me and me alone! How did I never notice this before? Looking back, when Ethan and Maya first met, they acted like enemies, both complaining that the other was stealing my attention. But at some point, their dynamic shifted. Ethan started buying duplicates of everything for Maya. He even invited her to our holiday dinners, Valentine’s Day dates, and anniversaries under the guise of “loving me so much that he loved my friends too.” Back then, I thought he was incredibly sweet and considerate. Now I realize I was just the shield. On the phone, Ethan was still rambling, making plans for my money. “Out of that $300,000 you saved, give Maya $100,000 for her rent, and use the other $200,000 to buy her a decent car. That should be plenty.” I casually replied, “Sure, go ahead and look at apartments and cars for her. I need to take a shower. Talk to you later.” Ethan clearly didn’t expect me to agree so easily. His voice filled with pure joy. “Chloe, you are so understanding! You’re the best—” In the past, when he praised me for being “understanding” and Maya chimed in with “thank you, bestie,” it warmed my heart. Now, looking back, that wasn’t gratitude. It was them gloating over how easy I was to exploit. My stomach churned, and I felt physically sick. I hung up, opened my laptop, finished the fellowship application, double-checked everything, and hit submit exactly one second before the midnight deadline. Whew. As the “Submission Successful” notification popped up, I took a deep breath. Want to use my spot to get a promotion and a raise? Want to use my money to move in together and play house? In your dreams!

The next morning, I took the subway to the hospital. When I pushed open the office door, Maya was already sitting inside. There was a breakfast spread on her desk—a gourmet sandwich and an iced latte. She was sipping it with a lazy, content smile. Seeing me walk in, she put down her cup and waved her breakfast box at me with a smirk. “My secret admirer sent this over first thing in the morning. He even remembers all my dietary restrictions.” As she spoke, she intentionally brushed her hair back, revealing a fresh, dark hickey right above her collarbone. Her voice dripped with braggy sweetness. “Chloe, do you think I should finally say yes to him?” I put down my bag and replied flatly, “Well, you have to take the horse out of the stable to see if it actually runs.” Her smile stiffened for a fraction of a second, but she quickly recovered her cute persona, though a trace of smugness lingered in her eyes. “Don’t worry, I’ll definitely introduce him to you eventually!” Before I could reply, the hospital WhatsApp group buzzed with a notification: The fellowship candidates have entered the final evaluation stage. Results will be announced within two days. Maya glanced at her phone, and the corners of her mouth practically reached her ears. She slid over and grabbed my arm, her tone incredibly light. “Chloe, out of everyone, you and I have the best shot. Since you’re not competing with me, I practically have this in the bag. Ethan said he wants to celebrate early tonight. Are you coming?” I pulled my arm back and said coldly, “I’m busy. I have outpatient clinic duty today.” She blinked, sensing my sudden coldness. “Why are you acting so weird today?” I walked to the door and threw a glance over my shoulder. “It’s time for your rounds.” With that, I walked out, not bothering to look at her face. The morning sun beamed through the hallway windows, casting a bright light on my white coat. I quickened my pace toward the clinic. At the end of my shift, Ethan was waiting for me. He leaned against my office doorframe, putting on his usual “peacemaker” attitude. “Chloe, don’t be a party pooper.” “Even though Maya is leaving for the fellowship, she’s going to be all alone there. As her friends, we should celebrate for her and talk about pitching in for her rent.” I closed the medical chart in my hands and looked up at him. “The list isn’t even out yet. Are you guys popping champagne already?” Ethan choked on his words. Before he could speak, I took a step forward. Catching Maya completely off guard, I ripped open her shirt collar. The dark red hickey on her collarbone was instantly exposed under the bright fluorescent light. “Since Maya has such a passionate admirer who brings her breakfast and leaves hickeys every day, I don’t think she needs you running around worrying about her rent,” I said calmly, looking back and forth between their pale faces. “If you have that much free time, Ethan, maybe worry about your own business.” Maya’s face went completely white. She scrambled to pull her collar back together. Ethan’s expression froze, and a brief flash of guilt crossed his eyes. I didn’t waste another second on them. I turned and walked straight out of the office. Leaving the hospital, I took an Uber straight to the outskirts of the city. I had passed by this area before but never paid attention to it. Now that I was here, it looked even more desolate than I imagined. Abandoned warehouses stood tilted, their rusty metal roofs full of holes. Broken bricks and wild weeds covered the ground, showing faint traces of an old, abandoned livestock farm. A few collapsed animal pens still barely held up their wooden structures, and the air smelled faintly sour. According to the real estate agent, the previous owner wanted to make a fortune raising livestock, but a massive disease outbreak wiped out his inventory, leaving him bankrupt. This land had been a hot potato on the market for two years. I knew exactly what I was doing. I didn’t just throw in the $300,000 I saved for the car; I scraped together every penny of my personal savings and even borrowed $400,000 from my parents. With a total of $800,000, I bought this entire desolate farm lot. The moment I signed the contract, the agent handed me the keys, giving me a look that suggested he thought I was the biggest idiot on earth. I took them. They felt heavy in my hand, but for the first time in my life, I felt completely secure.

When I got home, I locked the contract safely in the deepest drawer of my desk. I opened my phone and saw that Maya had just posted on Instagram. Her grid showed a lavish Italian dinner. Wagyu steaks, lobsters, and beautifully plated desserts. Ethan sat opposite her, showing only half of his side profile. Her caption was pathetic: “Is this how friendship ends? We just drift apart? So heartbroken.” Underneath, Ethan had already left a comment: “It’s okay. I’ll always be by your side.” As if that weren’t enough, he quickly added another comment: “Chloe was out of line today. I apologize on her behalf.” Their little back-and-forth made me want to gag. I was about to close the app when the Maine Coon, who was busy devouring premium wet food, suddenly let out a lazy thought: “Short on cash, are we? What’s the rush? Did you forget the designer solid gold jewelry set you lent to Maya?” I slapped my forehead. How could I have forgotten about that? Back when we first started working, Maya complained that she was worried her colleagues would look down on her, so she wanted some high-end accessories to boost her confidence. Ethan had chimed in, urging me to lend her my solid gold bracelet, necklace, and earrings for a while. He promised he would buy me a brand-new set later. I hadn’t thought much of it at the time, so I handed them over. But Ethan’s promises, like all his other lies, were always deferred to “next time.” Meanwhile, Maya wore them everywhere without shame, eventually stopped mentioning them altogether, and even secretly bragged to others that they were a gift from a “rich admirer.” Gold prices had skyrocketed recently. That set weighed over fifty grams. At today’s market value, it was worth a fortune. Since I had lent it to her without a formal agreement, getting it back wouldn’t be easy. But I wasn’t the pushover I used to be. Whatever belongs to me, they’re going to spit it back out! I took an Uber to Maya’s rented apartment. The hallway was dead quiet. Just as I reached the door, I heard their hushed voices coming through the thin wooden panel. “Ethan, do you think Chloe noticed something? The way she acted today was really off.” “Don’t worry. We’ve been together for two years, and she never suspected a thing. She’s incredibly gullible. She’s probably at home right now feeding my cat for us.” The two let out a low chuckle. Maya’s voice turned sweet and smug. “So, do you think she’ll really lend me that $300,000? I’m dying to move into that loft with you.” “Of course she will. She always does what I say.” “Oh, good. I feel so much better now.” “So, how are you going to thank me? Hmm? Just with words?” Then came the rustling of clothes, followed by muffled, breathless giggles that made my stomach turn. I sneered and banged on the door with all my might. BANG! BANG! BANG! The loud noise echoed through the empty hallway, triggering the motion-sensor lights on the entire floor. “Who the hell is that?” Ethan’s voice rasped, clearly annoyed at being interrupted. “Me! Chloe!” I shouted. Instantly, a chaotic scramble erupted inside. Chairs knocked over, followed by panicked, hurried footsteps. A moment later, the door swung open. Ethan stood there, his shirt buttons completely mismatched. And there were fresh hickeys on his neck.

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My wife, Chloe, had been cheating on me with my best friend, Austin, for six whole years, and I had absolutely no idea. It wasn’t until her birthday party tonight. Everyone was drunk, laughing, and throwing around jokes. “To be honest, Ive always thought Ethan was a pretty pathetic guy.” “Without Austin, he wouldn’t have even been able to hold Chloes hand.” Through the cracked door of the VIP lounge, I heard Chloes voice. “If Austin hadn’t gotten married first, do you really think I would have married that spineless loser?” So, that was how she saw our six-year marriage. I was about to kick the door open when her next words made me freeze completely. “Well, you might not have married Austin, but he was the one in your bed on your wedding night. What is there to regret?” My mind went completely blank. On our wedding night, I had been so drunk that I passed out, and when I woke up, the guests were already gone. It turned out someone else had taken my place in my own bed. Since they all thought I was a spineless loser. Then it was time to bring in someone who wasn’t. They seemed to have forgotten that Austins wife, Victoria Sinclair, was a notorious, unhinged control freak. Once, a girl had innocently placed her hand on Austins shoulder. Victoria ended up chasing her down three blocks with a kitchen knife. I wondered how she would react when she found out Austin was sleeping with my wife. 1 I pulled out my phone and sent Victoria a Snapchat message. [Austins had too much to drink and got into a fight with someone. You need to get here right now.] I put my phone away and listened as the laughter inside grew louder and more excited. “Isn’t it hilarious?” “Ethan actually thinks of Austin as his brother.” “Brother?” The group couldn’t stop laughing. “He doesn’t even deserve the title.” “Austin only calls him ‘bro’ to be polite.” “Did he really think he was on the same level as Austin?” “One is in heaven, the other is in the dirt.” “His greatest value is being Austins loyal dog.” Someone asked Austin. “Austin, am I right?” Austin just smiled and shook his head. “Don’t say that.” “After all, Ethan has been by my side for so many years.” Someone immediately mocked: “Austin, youre just too soft-hearted.” Standing outside the door, I suddenly smiled. Eight years ago, Austin wasn’t the powerful man he was today. Back then, he was just a fresh graduate, full of passion but failing at every turn. I was the one who helped him start his business. Later, when his company faced bankruptcy, I emptied my life savings to save him. At that time, Austin patted my shoulder. “Ethan, you are my brother for life.” “As long as I have a bite to eat, you will never go hungry.” He said it so sincerely, and I believed him. But I never expected this “brother” of mine would steal my wife. And treat me like a dog. More laughter echoed from the room. “But honestly, Chloe, youre pretty pitiful too.” “The one you love is Austin, but you ended up marrying Ethan.” “Who could ever accept that?” My fists slowly tightened. Chloe, my wife. We had been married for six years. I always thought she was just naturally cold and distant. But it turned out her heart had never belonged to me. Chloe spoke in a careless, bored tone. “If it weren’t for Austin, I wouldn’t even know who Ethan was.” “The only reason I agreed to marry him was because he was Austin’s friend.” At that moment, it felt like a heavy fist had punched right through my chest. The marriage I had fought so hard to protect for six years. In her eyes, it was just a pathetic second choice. “But have you ever loved Ethan, even just a little?” Chloe exaggeratedly covered her mouth and burst into hysterical laughter. “How could I ever love him?” “Hes just a doormat.” The pain in my chest was suffocating. Someone chimed in. “If Ethan ever found out, wouldn’t he completely lose his mind?” 2 Chloe’s merciless words stabbed into my heart like ice-cold knives. “Lose his mind? If he dares to make a scene, I’ll divorce him on the spot.” “Believe it or not, even if I sat on Austins lap right now, he wouldn’t dare say a word.” “Hed probably make excuses for me, saying I drank too much and accidentally fell into Austins arms.” “To put it bluntly, even if I slept with Austin right in front of his face, hed still find a way to forgive us.” Someone jeered, “No way, could a man really be that pathetic?” Chloe sneered, “Don’t believe me?” “Lets make a bet. Ill kiss Austin right in front of him. Lets see how he reacts.” The atmosphere in the VIP room grew wilder. People began placing bets. “I bet fifty thousand.” “One hundred thousand from me.” Chloe shouted loudly, “I bet Ethan won’t dare to utter a single sound tonight.” “I bet hell storm out.” “I bet hell actually fight. No real man could take this.” “What if he just swallows his pride?” The crowd laughed hysterically. The bets kept going up. They treated me like the biggest joke of the night. “Hey, why isn’t Ethan here yet?” Someone checked their watch. “How long has it been?” “Is he hiding behind the door, too scared to come in?” “I’ll go check.” A guy, completely drunk, stood up to walk toward the door. “Don’t worry,” Austin suddenly spoke. “Today is Chloe’s birthday.” “There’s no way Ethan wouldn’t show up.” “Hes probably just stuck in traffic.” The person next to him laughed immediately. “Austin, you really do know him best.” “He can’t bear to lose sight of Chloe for even a minute.” Another guy smirked. “Maybe he got distracted by some pretty girl on the street?” Laughter erupted in the room again. Chloe leaned back on the sofa, slowly swirling her wine glass. “Him?” She let out a soft scoff. “He can’t live without me.” “After all these years, don’t you guys know what kind of man he is?” “He has eyes for no one but me.” “Forget about some girl.” “Even if a woman stripped naked in front of him, he wouldn’t dare to look.” So she knew exactly how much I loved her, yet she used my love as a cheap joke. In the next second, she sat directly onto Austins lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I can’t let your bets go to waste. Watch closely!” As soon as she finished speaking, she leaned down and kissed Austin deeply on the lips. The room instantly went wild. “Oh, damn! Keep that pose, don’t move!” Someone yelled in excitement. “Lets wait for Ethan to walk in just like this!” “We have to see his face!” “Hahaha!” “I can’t wait to see him play the coward!” They laughed like maniacs. And I stood outside, separated only by a door, my fists clenched so hard my knuckles turned white. Chloe. Austin. I hope you can still laugh like this in a few minutes. I looked down at my phone. The screen lit up with a Snapchat from Victoria. [Tell me the room number. Im almost there.] A cold smile crept onto my lips. Victoria Sinclair was on her way. And I had heard enough. Everything I should and shouldn’t know, I knew now. If I didn’t go in, wouldn’t I be ruining their show? Since they wanted to see my reaction so badly, I would give them exactly what they expected. I pushed the door open, and the noise instantly stopped. Every single eye in the room turned to me. Chloe was still sitting on Austins lap. Her smile froze for a split second, but she quickly recovered. Some people were holding back their laughter, waiting for the drama to unfold. I looked at Chloe, then at Austin. I feigned a confused, worried expression. “Chloe, did you drink too much?” “How could you mistake Austin for your own husband?” 3 After a second of dead silence, the entire room exploded into deafening laughter. “Hahaha! I knew it! I knew hed react like this!” “Ethan, you are too funny!” One guy was laughing so hard he was slamming his hand on the table. “Mistake him for his husband!” “Does he seriously think Chloe is just drunk?” Chloe laughed too. “I won!” “Pay up, pay up, transfer the money!” Everyone groaned and started transferring money through PayPal. Someone complained, “Man, you really do know Ethan best.” Chloe said proudly, “Of course. Who do you think I am? Just wait, it gets even better.” She didn’t get up. Instead, she deliberately adjusted herself into a more intimate position on Austin’s lap. “Ethan, do you really think Im drunk?” The room fell quiet again. I didn’t say a word. Chloe stared at me like I was a clown. “Im not drunk. Im completely sober.” “I just wanted to sit in Austins lap.” My fists slowly clenched tighter. For six years, she had taken my patience and love, thrown it on the ground, and stomped all over it. Seeing my silence, Chloes laughter became even more arrogant. “Ethan, theres no point in getting angry!” “The one Ive always loved is Austin. Youre just his substitute.” “If you can’t take it, you can ask for a divorce!” She knew exactly how to manipulate me, thinking I would swallow my pride and accept it all. But this time, she was dead wrong. A simple divorce would never be enough to quiet the rage burning inside me. Austin smiled, looking down at me. “Alright.” “Don’t push him too hard.” His tone was still filled with that insufferable superiority. “Ethan, weve known each other for eight years.” “You should know that without me, you wouldn’t be where you are today.” He acted as if he was doing me a favor. “Were brothers.” “Between brothers, theres no need to get so worked up over little things.” Someone next to him laughed and added: “Exactly. Without Austin, could you have even married Chloe?” “Good things should be shared.” Austin raised his glass and took a slow sip. “Brothers share everything.” “With our relationship…” “Sharing a piece of clothing with a bro is nothing.” “After all, Im the one who let you have her first.” Another round of laughter erupted in the room. Blood rushed to my head, but I forced myself to hold back. I didn’t rush forward to beat these two pieces of trash. But I knew someone else wouldn’t hold back. I forced a slow smile, as if I had actually been convinced by them. “Austin, you’re right. Were brothers.” “Since you love Chloe so much, I don’t mind stepping aside.” Everyone froze. Clearly, they hadn’t expected me to be this pathetic. Chloes smile stiffened for a moment, then she let out a cold sneer. “At least you know your place, Ethan.” I ignored her and kept my eyes on Austin. “But… what about Victoria?” “Doesn’t she keep a very tight leash on you?” “If she finds out youre with Chloe…” The moment Victoria’s name was mentioned, the laughter in the room noticeably died down. A few people exchanged nervous glances. Someone muttered under their breath. “Victoria’s temper…” “Yeah, shes fucking terrifying.” But Austins expression didn’t change at all. He scoffed in disdain. “Who cares about her?” “Shes nothing without her family’s money.” “My company has grown so big over the years, and she actually thinks its all thanks to her?” “Even without her, I would have made it this far.” “Right now, her only value is playing the quiet housewife.” “As for anything else…” 4 Austin sneered. “If she knows whats good for her, Ill let her keep some dignity.” “If she doesn’t,” “Ill just divorce her.” “Do you really think a man like me is short of women?” The people around him immediately started agreeing. “Exactly!” “Look at Austin’s status now.” “Women are practically lining up for him.” “No matter how crazy Victoria is, she wouldn’t dare do anything to Austin.” Austin swirled his glass gently. “If she dares to make a scene, I’ll leave her penniless after the divorce.” “Without me, what does she even have left?” He spoke so casually, completely forgetting how violent and ruthless Victoria could be. I smiled and didn’t argue. Instead, I looked back at Chloe. “Chloe.” “You know what Victoria is like.” “Years ago, just because a girl stood too close to Austin, Victoria chased her down the street with a knife.” “Aren’t you even a little worried about what she might do to you?” Chloe acted as if she had just heard a joke. “Why should I be worried?” “Austin will protect me.” Austin wrapped his arm around her waist, looking smug. “Of course.” “With me here, no one touches you.” Chloe looked at me with pure contempt. “No matter how crazy she is, she can’t beat the law.” The crowd chimed in again. “Exactly.” “Shes just a woman.” “Can she really stab someone?” “That’s illegal.” “If she dares to raise a hand, shell be the first one thrown in jail.” I had said what needed to be said. You can’t save fools from their own doom. Austin gave me a dismissive look, suddenly pushing Chloe down onto the sofa and pressing himself against her. They acted as if I, her husband, was just invisible air. The crowd smiled knowingly and stood up to leave. “Haha, let’s not disturb Austin.” “Lets get out of here.” When one guy walked past me, he deliberately shoved my shoulder. “Ethan, youll get used to it.” The group laughed as they walked out. I stood in the same spot, motionless. Chloe frowned, looking at me with pure annoyance. “Why are you still standing there?” I looked at her calmly. “Are you sure you want to do this?” Chloes face was filled with mockery and disgust. “Ethan, youre a spineless loser.” “Just looking at you makes me sick.” “Who I want to be with is my business.” “Now get the hell out.” She pointed a finger at the door. “Wait outside.” “When Austin and I are done, you can drive us home.” With that, she didn’t even bother to look at me again and kissed Austin. Austins grin widened. “Oh, and if it gets a bit loud in here,” “Don’t mind us.” “Chloe and I have always been pretty wild.” The two of them began to make out as if no one else was in the universe. Just then, my phone vibrated. The screen lit up with a Snapchat from Victoria. [Im at the door.] My lips curved into a cold smile as I typed back. [Come straight up.] I turned around and walked out of the room. Right as I stepped into the hallway, desperate, heavy breathing started echoing from inside the room. Three minutes later, at the end of the hallway, the elevator doors slid open. A pair of designer high heels stepped out first. Behind her were a dozen burly bodyguards in black suits. Victoria Sinclair had arrived. She walked quickly up to me. “Where is Austin?” I slowly raised my hand and pointed to the VIP room behind me. Through the door, the unmistakable sounds of a man and a woman in the heat of passion could be heard. Victoria’s face instantly turned stone-cold. In the next second, she kicked the door open with a loud slam…

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Chloe was the most obsessive copycat at St. Jude’s Prep. Whatever tablet brand I bought, she’d get the exact same one, even if she had to finance it in installments. I signed up for a niche Latin course, and she registered too, even though she barely knew the alphabet. Everyone thought she was just desperate to fit into our high-society circle. Until late one night, I heard a cold, mechanical voice in my head: [Ding! Learning trajectory alignment has reached 80%. Actively stripping Vivian of her Ivy League early admission spot and her IQ.] Hidden behind my canopy bed curtains, I smiled silently. So, she was using a sci-fi system to steal the Ivy League offers I had pulled countless all-nighters for? The next night, I sat on my dorm balcony, chugging a glass of thick, crimson liquid. I even drew a few creepy, mystical runes on my face. I purposely complained to a friend on FaceTime, my voice loud enough to carry: “Ever since I started drinking this raw deer blood from a European Wiccan, my brain feels as sharp as a quantum computer.” In reality, it was just organic beet juice mixed with thick tomato paste. That very night, I watched Chloe climb over the school fence, heading straight toward the wild deer woods behind the campus.

I sat at the kitchen island in our dorm, slicing an avocado with a silver fork. The door swung open. Emma pinched her nose, her face twisting in pure disgust. “What the… what is that smell? It smells a hundred times worse than a dead rat in a Brooklyn sewer!” Just as she spoke, Chloe dragged herself into the room. Her tweed Chanel-style jacket—the one she had saved up for months to buy two days ago—was covered in brown mud. Dark, suspicious animal droppings clung to her hem. Her carefully styled hair looked like a bird’s nest. A nasty scratch from a thorn bush cut across her left cheek, and she reeked of rotting copper and wild animal sweat. Emma gasped, taking two large steps back. “Chloe, did you pick a fight with a wild boar in the woods?” Chloe grit her teeth, forcing herself to stand straight, but her eyes kept darting toward me. “What do you guys know?” she sneered. “I was performing an ancient European aristocratic cognitive ritual. Once I pass this phase, my IQ will experience a massive leap.” I raised my bone china cup and took a slow, elegant sip of my black coffee. “Oh? Good luck with your awakening then.” Right at that moment, a mechanical voice rang sharply in the air, heard only by me. [Warning! Host has ingested unfiltered wild animal blood and contracted an unknown intestinal parasite.] [Host has developed acute gastroenteritis. Physical functions compromised. IQ rating decreased by 2 points.] [The stripping progress has dropped back to 75%. Host, please cease self-destructive behavior immediately!] Chloe froze. Her face turned from pale to a sickly, moldy green. “Gurgle—” A loud, violent rumble erupted from her stomach. Clutching her abdomen, Chloe threw all her “aristocratic grace” out the window. She shoved Emma aside and sprinted frantically into the bathroom. Soon, the unmistakable, stomach-churning sounds of violent diarrhea echoed through the door. Emma waved her hand in front of her nose, her face full of disgust. “Is she insane? Going out in the middle of the night to eat wild animals? Does she think she’s in a vampire movie?” I set down my coffee cup and gracefully dabbed my mouth with a napkin. So, only Chloe and I could hear that mechanical voice. Perfect.

Chloe was bedridden for three whole days. She was so dehydrated from diarrhea that she missed two major pop quizzes in our core classes. When she finally dragged herself back to class, sporting two massive dark circles under her eyes, it happened to be Mr. Wilson’s Latin class. Mr. Wilson was notoriously strict at St. Jude’s. He tapped the blackboard, pointing at a classical Roman poem, and locked his eyes right on Chloe in the back row. “Chloe, since you chose to take this advanced classical literature course, please translate this passage from Julius Caesar for the class.” Chloe stood up slowly, staring at the letters. Cold sweat broke out on her forehead. She hadn’t even memorized basic Latin conjugations, let alone a complex classical translation. The lecture hall fell dead silent. Chloe stuttered for a long time before muttering, “Caesar said… he was going for a walk in Rome today.” The entire class burst into roaring laughter. Mr. Wilson’s face darkened instantly. “If your mind isn’t on academics, do not take this class just to boost your social vanity! This place is not a playground for your resume. Twenty participation points deducted. Sit down!” Chloe bit her lower lip in humiliation. She glared at me with pure hatred before taking her seat. Ever since she transferred to this school, she had hated my guts. Another roommate of mine had privately told me that Chloe constantly called me a fraud behind my back. She claimed I was just a dumb rich girl and swore she would get me expelled. It was around that time that I realized I could hear her “System.” Right on cue, the mechanical voice buzzed in my mind. [Warning! Host’s Latin grade has plummeted. The gap between you and the target, Vivian, has widened!] [Current copycat progress has dropped to 60%. If it falls below 50%, the system will initiate a forced unbinding penalty!] After class, I returned to the dorm’s common area, pulled a futuristic silver metal band from my bag, and clipped it around my neck. It was actually just a ten-dollar neck massager I bought on Amazon. I had paid a guy at the local hardware store to plate it in cool silver and engrave a fake high-tech logo on it. Emma leaned in, curiously tapping the metal ring. “Vivian, what is this new toy?” I pressed the power button, and the ring emitted a soft, high-tech hum. I raised my voice, making sure Chloe, who had just walked through the door, could hear every word. “My dad got it for me from a Silicon Valley neuro-lab. It’s a neural brainwave stimulator. Apparently, it stimulates the hippocampus with micro-currents. You can memorize an entire textbook just by flipping through it once.” “But it’s so hard to get,” I sighed. “It costs a hundred and twenty thousand dollars, and there’s a massive waiting list.” Emma gasped, playing along perfectly. “A hundred and twenty grand?! For a little metal ring? Well, I guess for an Ivy League admission, that investment is nothing.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Chloe staring at my neck. The greed and jealousy in her eyes were practically dripping.

Less than a week later, Chloe actually showed up with an identical silver metal ring wrapped around her neck. On Friday afternoon, she walked into the campus library with her chin held high, purposefully taking the seat right across from Emma and me. Emma rolled her eyes and whispered, “Unbelievable. Did this copycat rob a bank? How did she afford a hundred and twenty thousand dollar device?” I kept my head down, flipping through my Microeconomics textbook. “Who knows. I heard there are plenty of shady online payday loan apps catering to desperate students outside campus lately.” Across from us, Chloe straightened her back, clicked her neckband on, and sneered. “It’s just a learning device. Don’t project your narrow views on me. If some people can afford it, so can I.” She opened her book, putting on a show of intense concentration. The mechanical voice echoed. [Detecting host wearing the same external device. Attempting to sync and analyze data…] [Analysis failed. Warning: This device does not emit any cognitive enhancement waves. It only possesses basic physical vibration functions.] Chloe’s hand froze on her page. Her face paled. She screamed at the system in her mind, “How is that possible? Vivian read three thick books yesterday while wearing it! Your scanner must be broken! I borrowed a hundred and thirty thousand dollars from those online lenders to get this imported!” To prove to her system that the “god-tier device” worked, she grit her teeth and pushed the massager’s vibration setting to level nine—the absolute maximum. A loud, piercing hum vibrated through the dead-silent library. Nearby students frowned, glaring at her. But Chloe ignored them, keeping her eyes glued to her book. Exactly twenty minutes later. Due to her neck muscles being forced into violent, high-frequency spasms, Chloe suddenly let out a blood-curdling shriek. “Ahhh!” Her book slammed onto the table. Her neck was completely locked at a bizarre, unnatural angle, tilted sharply to the left. She reached up to tear the band off, but the acute muscle spasm made even the slightest movement excruciating. Her face contorted in agony. The librarian rushed over and immediately called 911. By the time the paramedics arrived to wheel her out on a stretcher, her head was still pinned to her shoulder like a broken puppet. She was groaning in pain the entire way. [Warning! Host has suffered acute muscle spasms. Learning efficiency for this week has reset to zero.] [Copycat progress has dropped to 55%.] [Warning: Host must obtain a core recommendation letter from the Academic Club within three days, or the mission will fail!]

The severe neck injury threw Chloe into a complete panic. She probably couldn’t understand why her omnipotent system was suddenly failing her. A day later, Chloe returned to school wearing a thick, ridiculous neck brace. Every student at St. Jude’s knew that Arthur, the president of the Academic Club, held a highly coveted Ivy League recommendation letter. This was Chloe’s last saving grace. On Thursday afternoon, I stood by the lockers, talking loudly to Emma as Chloe approached. “Are you ready for Arthur’s Ivy League prep gala tomorrow night? Have you picked out your perfume?” Emma looked confused. “Perfume? Isn’t a light, clean scent fine?” I shook my head, lowering my voice mysteriously. “Arthur comes from an ultra-traditional, Old Money family. He has severe allergies and OCD. He privately told me he despises modern synthetic perfumes.” “What he truly appreciates is raw, earthy scents, like dried mugwort and aged cedarwood. He says it smells like old libraries and academic heritage. I had a private perfumer mix a bottle of pure herbal oils just for tomorrow.” In the shadow of the hallway corridor, a piece of fabric flicked. I smiled slightly. She had swallowed the bait. Friday night, the St. Jude’s grand ballroom was bathed in golden light. Arthur, dressed in a flawless tuxedo, stood by the champagne tower, chatting with some boarding members. Suddenly, the heavy doors opened. Chloe walked in wearing a poorly fitted, clearly rented gown, with her thick neck brace still on. She marched straight toward Arthur. As she drew near, a suffocating, pungent odor of cheap insect repellent mixed with burnt weeds blasted through the air. The surrounding socialites and heirs immediately gagged, covering their noses and backing away. Arthur, who suffered from chronic sinusitis, took the blast of odor right to his face. His stomach churned violently, and he dropped his champagne glass, splashing it all over the floor. He clutched his nose and mouth, his face turning red with rage. “Did you douse yourself in industrial pesticide? Get away from me!” The ballroom erupted into uncontrollable snickers. Chloe froze, the color draining from her face. She whipped her head around, her eyes locking onto me. I was standing in the crowd, sipping sparkling water and enjoying the show. [Ding—System Warning! Core social relationship has collapsed. Progress has fallen below the 50% safety line!] Chloe’s eyes turned bloodshot. She looked like a rabid dog pushed into a corner. Suddenly, she spun around and sprinted toward the main stage in the center of the ballroom. She snatched the microphone from the host and violently plugged her phone into the massive projection screen behind her. “Don’t let Vivian fool you!” she shrieked, her voice echoing through the speakers. The giant screen flashed, revealing a detailed transaction log from an online academic ghostwriting agency. Highlighted in bright red was “Vivian Sinclair” along with wire transfers totaling tens of thousands of dollars. Chloe pointed a trembling finger at me, screaming righteously, “Vivian bought her Ivy League admission!” “All her papers, all her honors, were written by paid ghosts! She is nothing but an academic fraud! How can our school tolerate a criminal like her?” The room fell dead silent. Every eye in the room turned to me. Emma gasped, nearly dropping her glass. But I stood calmly in the spotlight, looking at the transaction log on the screen, and gently swirled my water.

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On the third night of our graduation road trip, we were playing Truth or Dare at our Airbnb. Chloe got a Dare. She had to imitate someone in the room. She rolled her eyes, sat stiffly on the couch, and started reading in a robotic, monotone voice. The rest of our classmates burst into hysterics. Tyler laughed so hard he cried. He slapped my shoulder and said, “Avery, oh my god, that is literally you! You’re such a robot. Why can’t you learn to loosen up like Chloe?” I stared at their smug, knowing smiles and said nothing. Since we were kids, they had always used me as their personal punching bag to boost their own egos. I brushed Tyler’s hand off my shoulder and stood up. I grabbed the cup of Coke from the table and poured it directly over Chloe’s head. “Since you guys love setting the mood so much, enjoy the rest of the night yourselves.” I left our three-person Snapchat group and walked out of the Airbnb. The Coke dripped down Chloe’s blonde hair, staining her expensive white dress. The living room went dead silent. The only sound was Chloe’s sharp gasp. “Avery, what is your problem?” Tyler was the first to react. He leaped up, knocking over a can of beer on the table. “Are you insane, Avery?” “It’s just a game! Do you really have to take everything so seriously? You’re such a sore loser!” I looked at his furious face and let out a cold laugh. It was always like this. Like when Chloe ridiculed my style, mocking me for wearing sports bras instead of lace. When I told her to shut up, they both accused me of “not being able to take a joke.” “Yeah, I am a sore loser. I take everything seriously.” “And I’m done playing your pathetic games.” I turned on my heel and walked out the door. The three of us grew up next door to each other. We were supposed to be childhood friends. In the beginning, we actually had fun. Chloe was beautiful and would pick out cute hair clips for me. Tyler was loyal. He’d go shopping with us and stand up for me if anyone tried to bully me. But somewhere along the way, everything changed. In high school, Chloe and Tyler were placed in the same class. I was in another. Chloe gradually became the center of the social scene, and Tyler became her devoted white knight, letting her get away with anything. And me? I became the “boring, uptight nerd who couldn’t take a joke.” I was just the shadow trailing behind them. I had even given up my dream university just to go to the same college as them. The night air was freezing. I pulled out my phone and ordered an Uber. “Take me to the nearest train station.” Once inside the car, I opened Snapchat. I found our pinned group chat, “The Golden Trio,” and hit leave. The second I left, my phone vibrated. Tyler’s name flashed on the screen. I answered it. “Avery, what the hell is wrong with you?” Tyler’s voice was thick with suppressed rage. “Chloe was just playing a game. Was it really necessary to pour Coke on her? She’s sobbing her eyes out in the bathroom right now!” In the past, seeing Chloe cry would make me anxious. I would immediately start blaming myself, wondering if I had done something wrong. Tyler knew that about me. That was why he always used guilt to control me. But this time, I felt absolutely nothing. “She can cry all she wants. What does that have to do with me?” Tyler’s tone shifted to disgust. “I am so disappointed in you, Avery.” “We’re supposed to be celebrating, and you have to ruin the mood. It’s bad enough that you’re usually a buzzkill, but now you’re just being malicious. Just come back, apologize to her, and we’ll forget this ever happened.” It was always the same script. Even when Chloe “accidentally” spilled coffee on my laptop, forcing me to rewrite my entire senior thesis. Tyler had said: “She didn’t mean to. Don’t be so dramatic. Just let her apologize and move on.” “I’m not coming back.” “Avery!” Tyler raised his voice. “Where are you even going to go? You don’t know anyone around here. Stop throwing a tantrum and get back here!” “Tyler, don’t ever contact me again.” I hung up and instantly blocked his number. Then, I blocked Chloe. Looking at my clean contact list, I leaned back against the seat. Outside the window, the streetlights blurred past. The train station was practically empty. I bought a ticket for the earliest train back to the city. During the four-hour ride, I didn’t sleep a wink. Instead, I deleted every single photo, video, and shared note involving them. The suffocating, nauseating weight in my chest finally lifted.

At 6:00 AM, I pushed open the door to my dorm room. Most of our classmates had already moved out. Only Chloe’s and my things remained. Chloe’s desk was covered in unwashed mugs and scattered makeup. Usually, I would have cleaned up after her. Today, I didn’t even look at it. I pulled out two large cardboard boxes and started packing my life away. I didn’t have much. Most of the room’s space had been taken up by Chloe’s random clutter anyway. While sorting through the bookshelf, a thick binder containing my senior thesis fell out. I flipped to the acknowledgments page. Chloe had written: “Special thanks to Avery. Even though you’re as boring as a robot, thanks for doing all my data analysis.” I threw the entire binder straight into the trash can. During our junior year summer, Chloe wanted to go to a music festival, so she dumped her entire research workload on me. I pulled two all-nighters to build her statistical models. The day she submitted it, she and Tyler went out for expensive sushi to celebrate. Tyler posted a picture of them clinking glasses on Instagram with the caption: “Celebrating my girl Chloe crushing her thesis!” Someone in the comments asked where I was. Tyler replied: “A certain someone is still typing away in the dorm. We have different roles in this squad, lol. Plus, she hates going out anyway.” I had felt so hurt back then, yet I still liked the post. Looking back, that wasn’t trying to fit in. That was just pure stupidity. Two hours later, I rolled my suitcase out of the dorm. I had already rented a cute one-bedroom apartment near my new office. While riding in the Uber to my new place, a text from an unknown number popped up. “Avery, what is the meaning of blocking us? Chloe didn’t even eat dinner last night. Haven’t you played this drama long enough? We’ll be at the campus cafe at 2 PM. Get over here and let’s talk this out.” I deleted the text immediately. Then, I blocked the number. Once I arrived at my new apartment, I spent the entire afternoon cleaning and organizing. No cloying sweet candles that Chloe liked. No ugly action figures Tyler forced me to display. The whole place smelled of clean linen, decorated with simple, aesthetic bedding I chose myself. That evening, I went downstairs and treated myself to a bowl of pasta. When I paid, the owner smiled and said, “New to the neighborhood, sweetie? You look like you’re ready to take on the world.” I smiled back. “Thank you.” Back home, I opened my laptop and checked my onboarding email for tomorrow. Vanguard Consulting—one of the top elite consulting firms in the country. I landed this offer entirely on my own. I had never told them. Tomorrow was a brand new beginning.

Vanguard Consulting was located in a towering skyscraper in the heart of the financial district. At 9:00 AM sharp, I was sitting in the conference room for orientation. After HR introduced us to the company structure, they led the new hires to the main floor. “This is the head of Project Group Six, Julian Vance.” I looked up. A man in a charcoal-gray button-down stood in front of a whiteboard, marker in hand. He turned around, his sharp gaze sweeping over us. His voice was cool and commanding. “I’m Julian Vance.” “In my team, I care about results, not seniority. If you have a problem, tell me directly. I don’t do office politics.” After assigning our desks, Julian handed me my first task. I had to clean up and compile a competitor analysis report for the new energy sector. The data was massive and incredibly messy. I immediately sat down, broke down the numbers, and started building the model. By 5:00 PM, I sent the completed report to his email. Ten minutes later, he walked over to my desk. “Avery.” I stood up. “I reviewed the report. Your logic is clean, and you hit the key metrics perfectly.” Julian looked at me, his expression neutral. “Good job.” I blinked, momentarily stunned. “Is there a problem?” he asked. “No, nothing.” I shook my head. “Thank you, Mr. Vance.” He nodded and walked back into his glass office. I sat down, my palms slightly sweaty. Growing up, Tyler and Chloe’s feedback was always: “You’re just a bookworm.” or “What’s the point of doing all this? You’re still just a nerd.” Even during college group projects, they would take my written reports and present them on stage. They got the praise, while I was treated like a background extra. This was the first time in my life someone recognized my work directly, as an equal. No backhanded compliments, no degrading remarks. On the subway ride home, I received a text from Sarah, our college class president. It was a screenshot of Chloe’s Instagram. It was a selfie of her and Tyler at the airport, both looking exhausted and miserable. Caption: “Ten years of friendship, destroyed over a tiny misunderstanding. Some people just drift away. Maybe we weren’t worth it.” Below, Tyler commented: “Some people just don’t know how to appreciate you. You still have me.” Sarah messaged me privately: “Avery, what happened between you guys? Chloe was throwing major shade in the class group chat today. Everyone’s asking me about it.” I looked at the hypocritical post, my fingers flying across the keyboard. “Sarah, please don’t send me anything about them anymore.” “Also, I am completely done with both of them.” I closed the app. When I stepped out of the subway, it was raining. I didn’t have an umbrella, but I didn’t run. I walked home slowly, letting the cool rain fall on my shoulders. It felt incredibly refreshing.

By my second week, I had completely adapted to Vanguard’s fast pace. To my surprise, although Julian was a demanding boss, he was fiercely protective of his team. On Thursday afternoon, we had an initial pitch meeting with a major client. Halfway through, one of the client’s directors sharply questioned a specific data point. The tension in the boardroom instantly spiked. Instead of defensive backtracking, Julian calmly turned to me. “Avery, you ran the core data. You explain it.” I stood up. I pulled up my backup slides and broke down the entire derivation process clearly and confidently. The client director listened, stayed silent for a few seconds, and then nodded. “Very solid.” After the meeting, Julian stopped me in the hallway. “You did great back there.” He handed me a bottle of water. “Quick on your feet. You didn’t panic.” I took the bottle. “Thank you.” “You’re not just detail-oriented; you’re an excellent communicator.” Julian’s tone was matter-of-fact. “I want you in on all future client-facing meetings.” I gripped the plastic bottle. “An excellent communicator.” Chloe had once ridiculed me in front of our entire class, saying I was socially inept. But here, in a real, professional environment, a top industry expert was telling me I was excellent. For the first time, a wave of genuine gratitude toward Julian washed over me. On Friday evening, I packed up my bag and walked out of the office lobby. The moment I stepped onto the plaza, I spotted someone standing by the stairs. Tyler. He was wearing a wrinkled jacket, with a duffel bag sitting by his feet. Seeing me, he quickly blocked my path. “I knew I’d find you here.” He glared at me. “Move, Tyler.” “Wow, Avery, look at you now.” Tyler let out a harsh laugh. “Blocking our numbers, packing up your dorm in secret, and getting a job without telling us. You think you’re so cool, don’t you?” I looked at him coldly. “What I do is none of your business.” I tried to step around him, but he grabbed my wrist. “Don’t walk away from me.” Tyler reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a thick manila envelope, waving it in my face. In the top right corner was the red seal of our university’s Registrar’s Office. My eyes narrowed. It was my diploma and my Latin Honors certificate. Because I had left campus early for my background check, the office required an authorized student to pick them up. Before our fallout, I had signed a release form giving Tyler permission to collect them. Without these original documents, Vanguard couldn’t finalize my permanent employment contract. “Recognize this?” Tyler smirked, looking smugly confident. “Chloe hasn’t slept in days because of your little tantrum. We’re supposed to be friends. Why do you have to make things so ugly?” “You’re both girls, why do you have to tear her down? What’s that term online… ‘internalized misogyny’? Are you just jealous because she’s more popular than you?” My fists clenched. “Me wanting nothing to do with you guys is targeting her?” “Tyler, you are literally insane!” It was the first time I had ever cursed at him. Tyler froze, startled. But he quickly pulled the envelope back, hiding it behind his back. “Now, pull out your phone and apologize to Chloe.” “Otherwise, you can kiss your degree goodbye.”

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My mother had severe, obsessive-compulsive OCD. Because I was born five ounces heavier than my twin sister, Clara, my mother despised me from day one. Whenever I cried myself hoarse from hunger, she would pump her leftover breast milk, store it in the fridge, and save it only for Clara. She fed Clara eight times a day with that milk. Eventually, both Clara and I ended up in the hospital. I was admitted for severe malnutrition, while Clara was hospitalized for consuming spoiled food over a long period. But that wasn’t enough for Eleanor. As Clara grew plumper under her care, Eleanor couldn’t stand how skinny and frail I was. She forced me to eat fatty pork—the one food she knew I was highly allergic to. I suffocated to death. But after I died, I found myself back inside my mother’s womb… I was dead. My mother had forced me to eat that fatty pork. My throat swelled up instantly, blocking my airway, and I suffocated to death, gasping for air. Yet, after my death, I felt it again—the familiar, warm embrace of amniotic fluid. That womb was the only place I had ever felt any semblance of maternal warmth in my entire life. In the next second, a voice echoed. “Doctor, is there any way to make my two babies come out at the exact same time?” “Mrs. Vance, you are asking for the impossible. The birth canal is only so wide. It is biologically impossible for two babies to slide out simultaneously.” Hearing this familiar conversation, a bolt of lightning flashed through my mind, sparking a fire of realization. Sure enough, the next line from my memory came right on cue. “I don’t care! You must get them out at the exact same time! Otherwise, I’ll report you to the board for sexual harassment during delivery!” It was Eleanor. Her voice. As her words overlapped perfectly with my past life’s memories, I knew. I had been reborn. I was back in my mother’s womb, and she was currently on the delivery table. In my previous life, she had paid a fortune to a fortune teller to calculate the perfect, luckiest minute for her babies to be born. But she was carrying twins. Chloe and Clara. It was physically impossible for us to be born at the exact same second. And I, in my mother’s words, was greedy. I had fought to come out first, which immediately earned me the reputation of being a curse to the family. Clara, on the other hand, was the lucky one. She was born at the exact minute the fortune teller had predicted. So, when the doctor announced that I was five ounces heavier than Clara, Eleanor didn’t even look at me. She furrowed her brow and immediately put me on a “diet.” I didn’t get a single drop of breast milk. I was forced to fast. That was why I grew up malnourished. Later on, my body lost the ability to absorb nutrients properly, leaving me perpetually thin and weak. Since Eleanor had given birth to twins, her milk supply was abundant. She would pump the milk Clara couldn’t finish, store it in the fridge, and feed Clara eight times a day. In the end, she successfully sent both of us to the ER. I went in for starvation; Clara went in for food poisoning from spoiled milk.

Right now, threatened by Eleanor, the delivering obstetrician was furious, but she had to swallow her anger and keep working. This time, however, I fought back. I struggled inside, desperately refusing to be born first. “We have a breech presentation!” “It’s a difficult labor!” “To the husband, we highly recommend an emergency C-section. Please sign the consent form immediately.” “No way! C-section babies are stupid! You can’t cut her open. She has to have a natural birth!” That piercing, screeching voice belonged to my grandmother, Martha. She was the one who always enabled Eleanor’s madness. The two of them always teamed up, leaving my father, Richard, completely speechless. So, Eleanor chose needless suffering. Risking severe postpartum hemorrhaging, she stubbornly pushed both Clara and me out naturally. Of course, she was too exhausted to frame the doctor for harassment this time. In this life, neither of us was the “lucky baby.” We started on the exact same foot. But I was still five ounces heavier than Clara. “Mom, go buy ten more digital scales. I don’t believe this. They are identical twins. How can their weights be different?” Eleanor frowned. After weighing Clara and me eight times on the scale, she dragged her hands through her hair in a fit of rage. Martha was a bully to outsiders, but in front of Eleanor, she was as obedient as a lamb. She immediately went out to buy more scales. But unfortunately, our weights fluctuated slightly on every single scale. Eleanor had a complete meltdown. She pointed at me, her face twisted with annoyance. “Take her away! She’s too aggressive. She must have stolen Clara’s nutrients while they were in my womb.” “Starve her for a few feedings. That will teach her to be quiet.” In my last life, my chronic stomach issues started right here. Having a second chance at life, I refused to let history repeat itself. But crying in front of Eleanor would do nothing but annoy her more. So, I waited. I kept my mouth shut until 4:00 PM—the exact time Richard usually came home from work. Then, I let out the most piercing, agonizing wail I could muster. The sound was so heartbreaking that Richard didn’t even change his shoes. He practically flew into the house to find me. Just as my throat was about to blow out from screaming, Richard finally found me—stuffed inside the drum of the front-load washing machine.

Yes, I had been shoved into the washing machine. Eleanor had ordered Martha to starve me. But whenever Martha wasn’t looking, I would crawl around looking for crumbs. Annoyed by my constant movement, Martha had simply thrown me into the washing machine drum. Out of sight, out of mind. “Eleanor! How could you let your mother put the baby in there?” Eleanor was genuinely shocked when she saw me in the washing machine. She didn’t even yell back at Richard. Instead, she turned to Martha. “Mom, why did you put Chloe in the washing machine?” “Didn’t you say she needed to lose weight? A few spins in the dryer would definitely shake the fat off her!” Hearing Martha’s ridiculous logic, the usually silent Richard finally snapped. “Martha, that machine is for laundry! She is a baby! What if you had killed her?” “What could possibly happen? I’m an elder, I have experience! Do you think I don’t know what I’m doing?” “Mind your own business!” Seeing that Richard dared to talk back to her, Martha exploded, screaming and cursing at him. But Richard was truly angry this time. No matter how much she yelled, he didn’t back down. Finally, Eleanor couldn’t stand the noise and cut them off. “Richard! My mother is your elder. How dare you raise your voice at her?” “The baby is fine, isn’t she? What is there to argue about?” Because Richard had been poor when they were young, and Eleanor had stayed with him through his early struggles, he always yielded to her out of gratitude. The moment Eleanor spoke, Richard’s anger died down, though he muttered a resentful, “It’ll be too late when something actually happens.” He picked me up and marched into his study. I tried to make him understand that I was starving. I grabbed his hand and began chewing on his fingers. He finally got the message, looked at me with pity, and carried me back to Eleanor for a feeding. But Eleanor looked at him coldly and slammed the door in his face. “She’s already five ounces heavier than Clara. Why on earth should she eat?”

I will never forget the look of sheer shock and fury on Richard’s face that day. No matter how hard he pounded on the door, no matter how much he yelled, Eleanor remained indifferent. Furious, Richard packed me up, drove straight to his office, bought baby formula, and began raising me himself. In my past life, I had never been put in the washing machine. Back then, Richard had come home in a rush, said a quick word to Eleanor, and immediately left on a business trip. I had always assumed he condoned her treatment of me. But now, I realized he actually loved me. During those days, as he constantly researched baby care online and asked coworkers for advice, I was raised wonderfully. I was healthy, chubby, and happy. But this change was eventually discovered when Eleanor decided to visit his office on a whim. And that was when her madness escalated to a whole new level. “Richard, didn’t I tell you she wasn’t allowed to eat? Why is she still so fat?” Eleanor’s fingers pinched hard into my baby fat. I burst into tears from the pain. Richard quickly rescued me from her grip. My healthy, chubby appearance was his absolute pride. These days, he loved showing me off to everyone, boasting that he raised me single-handedly, basking in their compliments. Hearing Eleanor call me fat made Richard extremely unhappy. “Babies are supposed to be chubby! Look how cute she is!” His tone was joyful, but Eleanor looked like she was about to lose her mind. She demanded that Richard pack up my things and bring me back to the family house immediately. I was put on those ten scales again. This time, I was a full pound heavier than Clara. We didn’t even look like twins anymore; I looked like her older sister. Eleanor’s face turned incredibly dark. Yet, Richard, who had developed a strong paternal instinct, was still babbling happily. “See how well I raised Chloe? Clara is way too thin. Why don’t you let me take care of both of them?” “That way, you can get some rest, too.” He meant well, but to Eleanor, his words were a direct mockery of her parenting and a disruption of her perfect plan.

“Richard, look at them! Do they even look like twins anymore? You’ve raised Chloe into a pig!” “They are twins! They are supposed to look exactly the same!” As Eleanor spoke, she began to cry tears of sheer frustration. Richard knew about her OCD, but still, he tried to reason with her. “It’s normal for twins to look a bit different, Eleanor.” “There are no two identical people in the world. Besides, they could be fraternal twins…” Richard tried to talk science, but Eleanor couldn’t hear a word. She slapped him across the face. “Richard! I don’t care about other people! My children must be identical!” “Look at what you dressed her in! And her hair! Her weight! Everything is wrong!” In Eleanor’s eyes, everything was Richard’s fault. If I could speak, I would have asked her: “Why can’t it be that your parenting is just terrible?” “Why do I have to shape my life to match Clara’s?” I was the older twin, yet in both lives, Eleanor favored Clara, making her the gold standard for everything. Having been slapped for no reason, Richard’s patience snapped. The anger he had suppressed for years finally erupted, and he roared back at her. “Eleanor Vance! Do you honestly believe you are the only correct person in this entire world?” “Squeezing the toothpaste from the middle is a crime to you! Stepping into the house with my left foot first is a crime! Wearing a gray tie with a black suit is a crime! Even the order in which I eat my dinner is a crime in this house!” “And now, raising a child to be healthy is a crime too?” “Eleanor, you are the one who is sick! I have had enough of your madness!” Richard looked magnificent. He had voiced the very questions I had kept locked in my heart for over a decade in my past life. Eleanor was stunned into silence. I couldn’t tell if she actually processed his words or if she was just shocked by his sudden defiance. Silence filled the room. After a long while, Eleanor still didn’t speak, but tears streamed down her face like broken pearls. Ultimately, Richard sighed and softened.

But he only apologized for yelling at her. When it came to child-rearing, Richard stood his ground. My glowing health was his ultimate proof. Suddenly, Clara began to twitch and convulse on her crib. The tense atmosphere shattered as my parents rushed both of us to the hospital. In my past life, Clara and I had been hospitalized at the same time. The doctor had diagnosed me with severe malnutrition and Clara with food poisoning from spoiled breast milk. This life was no different. Once the test results came out, the pediatrician looked at Eleanor with sheer disgust. “The children are too young to know any better, but are you adults brainless too?” “How could you feed a baby spoiled breast milk?” Confronted with the diagnosis, Eleanor’s immediate reaction was denial. “That’s impossible!” “Your hospital must have misdiagnosed her!” Ignoring the doctor’s warnings, she grabbed Clara and ran to every single hospital in the city to get second opinions. The results were all identical. And because of her stubbornness, Clara’s treatment was severely delayed. By the time Clara was admitted to the ICU, Eleanor collapsed again. She sat on the hallway floor of the hospital, shrieking and deflecting blame. “This is all your fault, Richard! You never come home! You don’t care if we live or die! Now Clara is in the ICU! Are you happy now?” Richard, who was genuinely worried about Clara, looked at her in utter disbelief. “Eleanor, I know you’re anxious about Clara, but she is my daughter too! I am just as worried as you are!” “How could you say that to me?” More and more passersby began to gather. Eleanor looked hysterical and aggressive, while Richard was calmly holding me in his arms. The crowd’s sympathy naturally leaned toward my father. Realizing people were judging her, Eleanor grew even more agitated.

She marched over, her sharp acrylic nail digging pointing aggressively into my face. “You care about Clara? Really?” “Since the day they were born, all your attention has been on Chloe! You left Clara entirely to me!” “What right do you have to say you care about her?” Seeing me being threatened, and pushed to his limit by Eleanor’s public accusations, Richard threw all decorum out the window. “Enough!” “You claim I favor Chloe? Why don’t you tell everyone here why a grown man like me has to bring his baby daughter to his office every single day?” “It’s because of you! Because Chloe was born five ounces heavier, you tried to starve her! You even let your mother stuff her into a washing machine to ‘spin the fat off’!” “You would rather let your extra breast milk rot in the fridge than give Chloe a single drop!” “Clara is lying in that ICU right now because you forced her to drink that spoiled, putrid milk!” Richard’s voice trembled with raw emotion. The onlookers instantly believed him and began whispering among themselves, casting disgusted looks at Eleanor. Even the attending doctors hadn’t realized the cause of Clara’s illness was so absurd. Their attitude toward Eleanor shifted instantly to cold disdain. Exposed in public, Eleanor’s rage blinded her. “Divorce!” she shrieked. To end the public scene, Richard agreed to keep her quiet. But Eleanor suddenly lunged forward, trying to tear me from his arms. “I gave birth to them! You won’t get either of them!” Richard refused to let go. In the struggle, Eleanor’s nails clawed across Richard’s face, drawing blood that dripped onto my baby clothes. At that moment, the fake agreement turned into a final decision. The one demanding a divorce now was Richard.

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Five years of stomach cancer. I couldn’t hold on anymore. I called my mother, begging her to save me. “This pathetic trick again? You disgust me.” “If you’re going to die, do it already. At least then we can have your kidney for your sister.” She hung up. The call lasted barely thirty seconds. I didn’t beg again. I faced death alone. Until I ended up on her autopsy table. My mother, who despised me with every fiber of her being, went entirely gray overnight. The nurse told me my hospital account was empty. “You’re still so young. Call your family. They won’t just leave you like this.” The nurse looked at me with pity. For five years, not a single family member had come to visit me. I nodded and pulled out my phone. It was a cheap, outdated flip phone with a speaker that was too loud. It rang until the very last second before someone finally picked up. My throat tightened. “Mom… it’s Hazel.” I allowed myself a foolish sliver of hope. She must care, even just a little. Why else would she take my number off her block list? “Don’t call me that! I am not your mother!” Her sharp, angry voice boomed through the speaker. “Spit it out. What do you want? I’m warning you, today is Chloe’s birthday. Don’t you dare ruin it with your drama.” Only then did I remember today was also my birthday. But it didn’t matter anymore. “I’m sick. Can you… can you lend me some money?” “Money, money, money! I gave you fifteen thousand dollars last time! And now you’re back begging again!” “Last time” was five years ago. Besides, Chloe had “borrowed” ten thousand of it and never paid me back. I choked back a sob. “Mom, I’m dying. Please. Save me.” There was a pause on the other end, followed by a cruel, mocking laugh. “This pathetic trick again? You disgust me.” “If you’re going to die, do it already. At least then we can have your kidney for your sister.” The line went dead. The entire call lasted less than thirty seconds. I looked up at the nurse. “I’m sorry. I let you down.” The nurse covered her mouth, tears streaming down her face. I knew the cancer cells had already metastasized. There was no saving me anyway. The nurse had only urged me to call because she thought hearing a loved one’s voice might comfort me. She had no idea that I didn’t have a family who cared. Enduring the agonizing pain, I dragged myself back to my tiny rented room. I changed into a clean set of clothes and walked to the park my mother always drove past on her way to work. It was a beautiful park, quiet and empty at night. I decided to die there. Maybe that way, as the lead medical examiner, my mother would finally look at me. Truly look at me.

Holding onto the hope of finally being noticed, my death wasn’t as painful as I feared. The rat poison only made my stomach twist with a sharp, fleeting spasm before the darkness took over. At dawn, someone found my body. Detective Marcus flipped through my ID and sighed. “What a waste. She was only twenty-five.” “No signs of foul play. Poor kid, whatever she was going through, she took that rat poison without hesitation.” “How long until Dr. Sarah gets here? We need the medical examiner to officially call it.” My spirit drifted, following his gaze. Soon, a figure I hadn’t seen in five years appeared. “Victim is Hazel Simmons, twenty-five. Apparent suicide. The poison bottle is still in her hand.” My mother frowned at the name. “Hazel Simmons?” Her assistant, Luke, nodded. Her frown deepened. “Suicide at twenty-five? Young people today have zero respect for life.” Luke sighed. “Don’t say that, Dr. Sarah. We don’t know what she was going through. Sometimes, ending it is the only escape from unbearable pain.” My mother’s voice remained cold and clinical. “It’s just weak mental strength. Letting hormones dictate their brain.” With that, they approached my body. Suddenly, I felt a spark of anticipation. Would she recognize me? If she did, what would she look like? Shocked? Remorseful? Or would she just look at me with the same deep disgust she had when she heard my name? Unfortunately, before she could pull back the white sheet, her phone rang. Her face paled instantly. “What?! She had another relapse?!” “Is Chloe okay? What did the doctors say?” As she spoke, she threw a pleading look at Marcus. Marcus pursed his lips but eventually nodded, letting her go. Bitterness flooded my ghostly chest. My workaholic mother, who never put anything before her job, was actually begging her colleague to let her leave for a family emergency. But “family” never included me. Even in death, she didn’t look at me. At least I died near the police precinct. Otherwise, I doubted anyone would have even bothered to bury me. My soul followed my mother. She drove like a maniac, cursing at every slow driver in front of her. Yet, she still stopped by a florist to carefully select a bouquet of fresh lilies. “Chloe, my poor baby…” My mother’s eyes welled with tears as she stroked Chloe’s hair in the hospital room. “It’s all Hazel’s fault. If she weren’t so selfish about the kidney donation, you wouldn’t have to suffer like this.” Aunt Clara, who was standing by the window, looked displeased. “Sarah, Hazel is your daughter too.” I was raised by Clara. She was the only one who had ever given me warmth. And because I knew what love felt like, I knew exactly how much my mother hated me. “Don’t talk like that. If Hazel heard you, she’d be heartbroken.” “Sigh… I wonder how she’s doing abroad. I hope she’s not being mistreated.” To keep Clara from worrying, I had told her six months ago that I was moving abroad to live with a friend. Tears spilled from my spectral eyes. I apologized to her in my heart over and over again. I’m sorry, Aunt Clara. I’m so sorry. I can’t be with you anymore. My mother’s face twisted in disgust. “Clara, I’ve told you a thousand times. Chloe is my only daughter!” Clara said solemnly, “Sarah, that was a mistake you made when you were young and foolish. Hazel is innocent.” “You’ve treated her like an enemy for years. But did you ever think? A child doesn’t get to choose her parents.” Chloe was the child of my mother and her true love—a firefighter who died in the line of duty. Chloe was my mother’s obsession, her living memory of him. I, on the other hand, was the mistake. The product of a reckless, drunken night with a high school deadbeat. My very existence was a constant reminder of her youthful stupidity. The guy ran off and reportedly died in a street fight years ago. I shouldn’t have existed. But my mother’s uterine lining was too thin. If she had aborted me, she could never have had children again. So, swallowing her disgust, she gave birth to me. Clara always told me not to hate my mother. She said everyone makes mistakes, and I was just dealt a bad hand in life. Everyone makes mistakes. And I spent my entire life paying for theirs.

“Clara, let’s not talk about this. Can you call Hazel for me? Please, beg her to donate the kidney. For Chloe’s sake.” Chloe’s face was pale, and she still hadn’t woken up. My mother’s heart was breaking; she wished she could take Chloe’s place on that hospital bed. Sarah was a good mother. Just never to me. Clara sighed, pulling out her phone to call my number. It had indeed been a long time since we last spoke. “Hello? Is this Hazel’s family?” Clara said yes, but an officer’s voice answered. “I am so sorry to inform you… Hazel has passed away.” “We need you to come down to the precinct. There are some details we need to clear up.” My mother snatched the phone from Clara’s hand, instantly snapping: “Tell Hazel that if she keeps playing these pathetic games, she can forget about ever coming home!” “Selfish, manipulative brat! Don’t you dare call yourself my daughter!” She slammed the phone down before the officer could respond. My mother was shaking with rage. “You see that? She’ll invent any lie, even her own death, just to get out of donating her kidney!” “She’s just as selfish as her useless father. I should have thrown her in a dumpster the moment she was born!” Floating in the air, I shook my head violently, tears pouring down my face. No, Mom. No. I didn’t lie. Four years ago, when she demanded my kidney, I told her I had cancer. I told her I couldn’t donate. But she had screamed at me: “Why do you think I raised you for eighteen years?!” “If your organs weren’t a match for Chloe, I would have dumped you at an orphanage the day you were born!” “You’re just like that animal who fathered you. You want everything, but you’ll give nothing!” Chloe had been sickly since birth. To be safe, my mother had me thoroughly tested when I was a child. I remember being so happy, thinking my mother finally cared about my health. I couldn’t sleep a wink from excitement. Only when I grew up did I realize those tests were to see if my organs matched Chloe’s. I was only four years old. My mother marched back into the precinct. “Officer Davis, I want to file a report.” Her face was dark. “My daughter, Hazel, is missing. She’s twenty-five. She’s not answering her phone or texts. She’s completely off the grid.” She refused to believe the police couldn’t track me down. This time, she would force me to give up that kidney, whether I wanted to or not. “Hazel?” Davis blinked. “Do you have a photo?” How could my mother have a photo of me on her phone? Her gallery had thousands of photos, every single one of Chloe. Eventually, Clara found an old photo of us from a few years ago on her own phone. Seeing me smiling so happily in the picture only fueled my mother’s disgust. I always had a straight face around her, but I knew how to smile for Clara. I only ever called her for money, and now that Chloe needed me, I went missing. Just like my biological father, who fled the moment he found out she was pregnant, moving overnight so she couldn’t find him. The more she thought about it, the angrier she got. “Wait…” Davis’s eyes widened in utter disbelief. “Dr. Sarah… she was your daughter?!” The girl with late-stage cancer who just committed suicide in the park… was your daughter?! My mother’s brow furrowed, a sudden, chilling dread washing over her. “You know her? How do you know Hazel?” Her eyes darkened, and she grabbed Davis’s arm in a vice grip. “Speak! How do you know her? Where is she?!” Had I really run to the police station? Had I brought my pathetic begging for money to her workplace? Her gaze turned lethal. If I were standing there, she would have torn me to pieces. “Dr. Sarah!” Marcus and Luke rushed over, their faces grim. “Dr. Sarah… we just confirmed. The female body found in the park this morning… is your daughter, Hazel.”

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