Author: Momo Chan

Mom’s heart gave out. She’d found the bride at my wedding wasn’t me, but Skylar, Asher’s business partner. A single gasp, then nothing. The moment she stopped breathing, my wedding became her funeral. Asher, though, ordered the ceremony to proceed. He even forced me to place the ring on Skylar’s finger. “Now! Put it on her! I’ll explain tonight.” I ignored his threats, cradling Mom’s body as I left the hotel. By eight that night, the “successful” wedding, with its new bride, concluded. Skylar crowed on her social media feed: “Hehe! Finally married to my guiding light today. So grateful to the third wheel who knew when to leave.” Asher followed, posting: “Some people just aren’t worthy of love.” In the chilling silence of the morgue, I ‘liked’ both their posts. My comment: “Wishing you forever.” Then I clutched Mom’s urn, ready to move out, only to find Asher locked in a passionate kiss with Skylar on the new couch I’d bought for our future. 1 Late that night, I returned home, Mom’s urn clutched to my chest, the moonlight outside as cold as ice. At the door, Skylar’s heels were brazenly placed by the entryway, as if she were the lady of the house. It wasn’t her first “visit” by a long shot. Since she became a Caldwell partner three years ago, she’d been a constant fixture, citing “work discussions.” Morning or a stormy night, didn’t matter. Asher would always tell me to “know my place.” “The company makes money, and you, idle as you are, get to enjoy it.” Now, all I had left was this feather-light urn. Pushing the door open, I found Asher and Skylar, bathed in the dim glow, in a fervent embrace on the very couch I’d picked out for our new life together. Skylar, eyes glazed with drink, draped herself over him. Seeing me enter, Asher glanced at the urn, then pushed Skylar away with a dismissive tone: “So, she really died. Not just an act. Still not done with your dramatics? Fine, I feel guilty now.” A bitter laugh escaped me. When Mom had collapsed from rage, he’d sneered, “If only she’d just die.” Now she was gone, and he paraded this flimsy “guilt”? Today should have been the happiest day of my life—marrying Asher, my childhood sweetheart of twenty years. I even had a bigger surprise planned: despite his low sperm count, a less than one-in-a-million chance of conception, I held a positive pregnancy test in my pocket. But looking at his face now, all I felt was profound disgust. “Asher, it’s over between us.” I watched his eyes widen in shock. “From this moment on, we’re strangers.” I had planned to quietly disappear, out of respect for Grandma Caldwell, but he’d already stomped past every one of my boundaries. “My guilt isn’t enough for you? Do you want me to kneel and beg?” He grabbed my wrist, his gaze frigid. “Know your place, Willow.” I yanked my hand free, intent on gathering Mom’s belongings. But Skylar sat up from the couch, feigning concern as she eyed the urn. “Oh, dear, Auntie’s gone? So sorry, Willow… Asher, I just love that urn. My dog died yesterday. Could Willow put my dog in it for me?” Asher actually reached for it. “Give it! It’s perfect for a mutt!” Seeing Mom’s urn about to be ripped from me, I bit down hard on his wrist. The metallic tang of blood flooded my mouth. He roared, lashing out with a furious backhand. “Bitch!” As I fell, my only thought was to shield the urn, clutching it tight against my chest. My head, though, slammed directly into the sharp corner of the table. “Asher!” Skylar anxiously took Asher’s hand, examining it, then turned a disapproving gaze on me. “Willow, why would you bite Asher? He cares about you so much. It’s just an urn. Aren’t you worried he won’t get Auntie something better later?” Still cradling Mom’s ashes, I struggled to my feet. Blood streamed down my face, dripping onto the urn. Mom had loved me fiercely in life. But the one she loved most was Asher, standing right there. In that moment, something inside me snapped. “You care about me? Then you replace the bride at my wedding and drive my mother to her grave? Asher! Don’t you dare forget what Mom did for you! Who ran into that blazing inferno, her face disfigured by the flames, to pull out a seven-year-old you? Now all I want is to leave. Get out of my way!” “Enough!” Asher strode forward, his hand seizing my throat, slamming me against the wall. A crushing sense of suffocation stole my breath, but what truly choked me was Asher’s snarled reply. “Willow!” His grip tightened, his features contorted into a monstrous mask of rage. “How long are you going to hold this tired old favor over my head? Isn’t this life you have enough for you?!” Asher’s final words were gritted out, each syllable laced with venom: “How dare you even utter the word ‘leave’! I’ve already said I’m guilty. Don’t push your luck!” My face was turning purple from the lack of air, tears mingled with blood streaming down. I couldn’t raise my hands to fight back. Because I was terrified that if I let go, Mom’s urn would crash to the floor. Mom had suffered enough in life. In death, I wouldn’t let her feel any more pain. Just as I felt consciousness fading, Skylar approached. She didn’t stop him, only whined pitifully: “Willow, Asher still loves you. He’s marrying me because everyone thinks we’re a better match, and our union will boost the company’s stock price. But Asher told me that privately, you’ll always be Mrs. Caldwell. Asher’s doing all this, why can’t you and Auntie understand and be more considerate? Why focus on mere appearances?” As her words hung in the air, I felt Asher’s fury surge, escalating rapidly. “Willow! Why can’t you be considerate like Skylar? Why?!” His grip was so powerful, his knuckles turned stark white. “Apologize to Skylar, and I promise you, outside of public appearances, you’ll always be Mrs. Caldwell.” Just as I was on the brink of blacking out, Asher released me. He loomed over me, his gaze a mix of pity, condescension, and cold command. Rage, raw and incandescent, instantly shattered my composure, erupting from every cell in my body. “Asher! I said it! I don’t want to be Mrs. Caldwell!” I lunged into the kitchen, snatched up a carving knife, and lunged at them. “I just wanted to leave before, but now? Now I want you dead!” Just as I was about to strike, Asher exploded in a fresh burst of fury at my actions. He shielded Skylar with one arm, then lashed out, kicking me violently in the stomach. Right where his child, the one he didn’t know about, was growing. The unexpected kick sent me flying back, slamming into a bookshelf. In that instant, an agonizing, bone-deep pain tore through my abdomen. Crimson blood began to flow between my legs. My world instantly turned crimson. I collapsed into the spreading pool of blood, my entire body racked with pain, feeling as though every bone had shattered. But the worst pain was in my belly, the very place where a tiny life had been stirring. A metallic taste filled my mouth as tears blurred my vision. Clutching Mom’s urn, I gazed at Asher, who stood coldly in the distance. I tried to stand, but my body wouldn’t obey. My trembling hand moved to my stomach. Suddenly, a large mouthful of blood gushed out. Skylar gasped, her delicate face paling as she clung desperately to Asher’s arm. “Willow! What are you faking now? I barely touched you! Don’t act like you’re dying!” Asher stood above it all, his face dark and brooding. He irritably pulled out a tissue and began wiping his shoe. Skylar’s eyes welled up, glistening with tears, as she looked at me with feigned innocence: “Asher! Could she be pregnant? Look at all that blood… it’s disgusting, ugh!” She clapped a hand over her mouth, bending over in a performative retch. Her act was painfully obvious, yet Asher, suddenly anxious, gently patted her shoulder. “Disgusting? Then don’t look.” He turned to me, his disgust equally blatant. “How could she be pregnant? If she really was… Hmph! She’d be screaming it from the rooftops, using it as leverage for a better life.” Asher sneered, his contempt for me filling the entire room. “That woman… she’s got layers of scheming!” The words were barely out when a searing cramp twisted my gut—a pain that drilled into my skin, pierced my bones, and seared my very soul. It felt as if every nerve ending in my body was being gripped by tiny, furious hands. The baby in my belly was screaming its rage. My insides felt like they were being ripped apart. “Cough! Cough! Cough!” I coughed violently, then, my mouth full of blood, I began to laugh, a ragged, broken sound. “Ha-ha.” “Asher! Look… what’s this?” My hand trembling, I reached into my pocket, my fingers, stained with the blood that was once my baby, clutched the pregnancy report. I pulled it out, holding it towards Asher. “Read this, then I’ll leave! I wish you both forever!” Asher! Didn’t you always want a child? Then before I leave, I’ll use this pregnancy report, like a blade, to pierce his heart. Let you know that from that kick you just delivered, your line, the Caldwell name, is doomed to end. “Willow! I don’t have time for your games!” Asher snatched the report, but didn’t even glance at it. Instead, his face a mask of fury, he crumpled it into a tight ball. And hurled it viciously into the spreading pool of my blood. “Are you deaf?! I said I’m losing my patience! Losing it!” He seized my long hair, yanking my head back, forcing my gaze to meet his. “I told you to give me the urn! I told you to apologize to Skylar! You’re still Mrs. Caldwell! Do you understand?!” A tearing pain ripped through my scalp. I bit down hard on my lip, drawing blood, refusing to utter a sound. My bloodshot eyes locked onto Asher’s. Asher looked at the urn clutched in my arms, veins bulging in his neck. “Why are you still holding it?! She’s dead! How long are you going to use her to threaten me?! Give it to me! Give it to me!” Asher ripped the urn from my grasp. Both of us screamed at the same time. One, a raw, primal rage; the other, a hysterical, desolate grief. My nails had torn Asher’s skin. He glanced at his hand, then his eyes turned suddenly, chillingly sinister. “Fine then! Take it!” He roared, then, as my bloodshot eyes widened in horror, he violently ripped open the urn’s lid and flung its contents towards the ceiling. “Mom!” I shrieked, lunging forward, desperate to catch the scattering ashes. But my head was brutally forced down by Asher, ground against the floor. “Let me go! I can’t let Mom…” Asher slapped me hard across the face, his voice a furious snarl: “Shut up! Stop faking it! You just want to use your mother’s death to extort more from me, don’t you? Asher! I’ll give you what you want!” He yanked my head to his level, then his other hand grabbed a handful of my mother’s ashes, violently smearing them across my face. “You loved that old hag so much, didn’t you? Then let her be a part of you now. Scream! Why aren’t you screaming?!” Asher gripped my head, violently slamming it against the floor. “You won’t even scream! How dare you say you love her! Scream! Let me see your devotion! Otherwise, you won’t be Mrs. Caldwell anymore!” I bit down hard, clenching my jaw, refusing to comply. But Asher kept slapping me, again and again, trying to force my mouth open. Finally, he grabbed my jaw, top and bottom, attempting to pry my mouth open with brute force. Asher’s chest heaved, his voice a thunderous roar: “Do it! If you don’t want this desecration, apologize to Skylar right now! Then beg me! Say you don’t want to leave, that you want to stay and be Mrs. Caldwell!” Pain! Excruciating pain tore at the corners of my mouth. It felt like they were ripping apart, my entire head threatening to split in two by Asher’s hands. But I stared at Asher, my bloodshot eyes, webbed with broken capillaries, locked onto him. Perhaps realizing I was truly fading, a flicker of clarity crossed Asher’s eyes. He finally released me. Gasping for air, I scrambled to the floor, reaching out to gather my mother’s ashes. Suddenly, Skylar threw open all the windows. “Asher, it’s so stuffy in here. Your lungs aren’t good; I’ll air it out for you.” As Skylar spoke, she also cranked up the central air conditioning to full blast. “No!” Ignoring the agonizing pain throughout my body, I lunged forward. But in an instant, the fierce draft from the top-floor windows combined with the powerful AC—in a mere blink—scattered my mother’s ashes. Only a few lingering bone fragments remained, skittering across the floor in the breeze. “Oh! I’m so sorry, Willow! I was just worried about Asher’s lungs, so I opened the windows. I didn’t mean to… Auntie…” She walked over, deliberately stepping on a bone fragment of my mother’s, then blinked, feigning innocence and pity. “Oops, sorry, I just scattered Auntie’s remains.” My vision turned crimson with rage. I lunged, my hands clamping around Skylar’s throat. “I’ll kill you!” I squeezed, utterly determined to drag her down with me. But Asher, who cherished her so, wouldn’t let me have my wish. Once more, I fell, landing back in that pool of blood. “Willow! I’ve had it with you! Do you really not want this Mrs. Caldwell title anymore?!” Asher roared, like a lion whose mane had been set aflame—ferocious, cruel. “If you don’t want it, then why don’t you just get out?!” A bitter laugh escaped me. “Are you deaf to reason? I am trying to leave. You’re the one who wouldn’t let me!” Asher started to lunge, but Skylar held him back. He settled for pointing at me, bellowing: “Willow! How dare you leave! What gives you the right?! If you were going to leave, why did you cling to my side like a dog all these years? Are you a masochist? Isn’t it just money you want?! When your mother saved me back then, wasn’t it because she knew I was a Caldwell, hoping to trade her worthless life for my guilt? She succeeded. Everyone demanded I treat you well. What right do you have to leave now?” Asher was in a blind rage, roaring. His eyes brimmed with disbelief. He couldn’t fathom that I would reject the esteemed Mrs. Caldwell title, when I had loved him so much before. Asher’s face was as dark as a storm cloud. Even when Skylar tried to calm him down, urging him to leave first, he remained in a furious frenzy. It was only when Skylar complained of a sore throat and difficulty breathing that he regained some semblance of control, promising to rush her to the hospital. And I, lying in the pool of my own blood, my body feeling as if countless bones were broken. The bleeding from below didn’t stop. He remained oblivious. Before leaving, he turned, his voice chillingly cold: “Don’t even think about going to my grandma, or else…” As the door slammed shut, he didn’t look back. “Don’t blame me for cutting off our last ties!” But I was too weak to stand, only able to watch them leave with a bitter, mirthless laugh. After their footsteps faded, I trembled as I gathered my mother’s bone fragments, then collapsed, weeping uncontrollably. The wind swept in through the open windows. The blood-soaked pregnancy report, crumpled and discarded, was inexplicably blown to my feet. My hand shook as I reached for it, heavy… How could the wind have moved something so weighted? Soon, my consciousness began to blur, my eyelids growing heavy. I slowly collapsed into the spreading blood, feeling my heartbeat slow, becoming fainter with each beat. Life was rapidly draining away. Before death claimed me, I managed to dial a number. Moments later, I heard the faint click of the fingerprint lock on the door. I thought it was Asher, but my eyelids, too heavy to resist, slowly closed. Yet, in my final moments, I heard… A phone ringing, drawing closer. And I saw her. Grandma Caldwell herself, the matriarch who, though she often sought solace in prayer for the family’s legacy, held absolute power over the Caldwell name, appeared before me. “…Willow!” In that instant, the prayer beads in Grandma Caldwell’s hand snapped. One by one, they scattered, rolling into the pool of blood beneath me—the blood that carried all the Caldwell family’s lost hopes. Why, just before I died, did I have to see her?

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At the company’s IPO launch event, my husband’s gaze lingered a moment too long on his secretary. I turned away. The first thing I did was book an appointment for a termination. The next was to have my lawyer draft the divorce papers. Dean’s furious call came moments after he received the email. “What kind of joke is this? Because I looked at Harper?” “Yes. Because you looked at her.” 1 The livestream of the press conference still played on the screen. Dean, a beaming smile on his face, took the microphone from Harper, seamlessly continuing her opening remarks. “I owe so much to my secretary. For the past decade, she’s handled every project, big and small, at Davies Holdings. I’ve witnessed her tireless efforts all these years.” “Taking this opportunity, with everyone here today, I’m announcing a transfer of 20% of the company shares to Harper. From this day forward, we are not just superior and subordinate, but partners. I hope she continues her hard work in the future.” A ripple of shock swept through the room, immediately followed by thunderous applause. Amidst the congratulations, Harper shed tears, and Dean chuckled, handing her a tissue. Just that one glance. And I knew, with absolute certainty, this man was no longer mine. With two callous sentences, he wiped away a decade of my dedication, pinning my achievements onto another woman. Since he’d shown no decency, I saw no need for loyalty. I pulled out my phone, booked the abortion appointment, then dialed a number I knew by heart. “Is that partnership offer still on the table? I want in.” “Just one condition: I need full management control of the company. I want a 50% stake.” The voice on the other end agreed instantly, a hint of amusement in his tone. “So, Audrey Hayes, you’ve finally seen the light? Shares are no problem at all. To have you join us is worth any sacrifice!” “Though I confess, I’m curious. Back when you graduated, you absolutely refused to work with me. I’ve waited ten years for you. Why the sudden change of heart today?” “Don’t ask what you shouldn’t. You talk too much.” I rolled my eyes, grabbed my keys, and drove straight to the clinic. After the procedure, I took a cab home, arriving just moments after Dean. His gaze immediately snagged on the crumpled shirt from yesterday, still piled on the couch, and his brow furrowed. “Why aren’t the clothes washed?” He turned to the dining table, his expression hardening further. “No dinner either. Are you feeling unwell today?” My hand instinctively went to my aching belly, the pain too sharp for words. I simply shook my head, eyes fixed on my phone, a silent dismissal. Dean carelessly handed me a small, wrapped box, his voice sharp with command. “Then go do it now. Make enough for one extra person today; I’ll take it to the office. The launch just ended; we’ll be working late tonight.” “Harper is with me. Can’t have an employee starving while they work.” Before, I would’ve seen to all the housework without him even asking. By day, I was Audrey Hayes, Marketing Director, fighting battles alongside him in the business world. By night, I was his homemaker, washing clothes, cooking meals, always catering to his entitled whims. That had been my life for ten years. But now, all I felt was an overwhelming weariness. He finished speaking, and I simply scoffed, not moving an inch. “Sorry, can’t do it.” I added, “Besides, didn’t you already eat out?” “I wasn’t just talking about dinner.” Dean’s momentarily calm face instantly darkened. “What are you even babbling about? I worked my tail off all day, only to come home to your frosty glare? Am I indebted to you? You know it’s our anniversary today, didn’t I bring you a gift? Can you stop with the passive-aggressive attitude? When are you going to start understanding my difficulties?” 2 My gaze fell on the gift box. I tore it open. Inside, a tiny, pitiful 1-gram lipstick lay nestled. My phone, by chance, flashed an ad for that very brand. This minuscule thing? It was a freebie, a bonus item from their Valentine’s Day gift set. I almost laughed at the pathetic irony of my own existence. Dean’s face was etched with discomfort, but he soldiered on. “I know you don’t usually wear makeup. I searched every brand to find this small size. Don’t be ridiculous.” I ignored his words. My alarm chimed, and I swiftly popped the pills into my mouth. Dean’s face contorted. He quickly snatched the medicine bottle away. “What are you doing? You know you can’t take medication when you’re pregnant, don’t you?” Seeing the grim set of my expression, Dean’s tone softened, a rare occurrence. He tossed the lipstick aside. “Fine, fine. Don’t like the shade, just throw it away. I’ll buy you a new one, okay? Audrey, you’re not alone now. Getting angry will affect the baby’s development.” As his words hung in the air, I laid the printed divorce papers on the table. “The agreement’s ready. Sign it when you have a moment.” “And I don’t have time to cater to your little secretary. Since you dote on her so much, why not just hire her a nanny?” Dean was swamped with work; I wouldn’t bother him with something as trivial as drafting legal documents. But at my words, his face hardened, and he abruptly stood up. “Divorce? What kind of joke is this? Just because I glanced at Harper during the launch? She’s just my secretary. You’re the one who hired her in the first place. If anything was going to happen between us, it would have happened ages ago. Why wait until now? Can you stop being so dramatic?” He finished, his gaze falling to my stomach, a resigned sigh escaping him as he bowed his head in defeat. “I know pregnant women are emotional, and I’ve tried my best to accommodate you, but don’t push it too far.” His dress shoes scuffed directly onto the rug, leaving glaring marks of dust in their wake. I almost blurted out a warning. Then, catching myself, I swallowed the words, a self-deprecating smile playing on my lips. He was always like this, uncaring of my efforts, my contributions. Now that I was leaving, whatever happened to him was no longer my concern. I met his gaze, nodding calmly. “Yes. Exactly because you looked at her. Isn’t that reason enough? Dean, I told you before we married, I can’t tolerate betrayal. But you’ve changed. So, there’s no point in us continuing.” Dean’s brow furrowed, on the verge of exploding. I spoke again. “And, the baby… it’s gone. Don’t worry, it won’t be an obstacle between you two. And it won’t compete with your little Harper for shares.” “Sign the papers when you have time. Courier them to me. The address is on there.” With that, I ignored his frozen figure, turning and walking away. Behind me, his anguished scream tore through the air: “Audrey Hayes, if you dare walk out today, don’t ever think about coming back!” A cold smile touched my lips. He had used that sentence to shackle me for ten years. I had constantly bowed my head, constantly apologized. What I got in return was not understanding, but his relentless pushing of boundaries. He thought I would turn around and beg for forgiveness, just like always. But as his words echoed, my footsteps quickened. Not coming back? That was exactly what I wanted. 3 Divorcing a husband for a single glance at his secretary sounds utterly preposterous. But only I knew how much unyielding affection was hidden in that look. That had once been a secret between Dean and me. When I first met him, I was still struggling through school. Bullied by classmates, reprimanded by teachers. Dean was a transfer student, strikingly handsome. He immediately captured everyone’s attention. Classmates warned him to stay away from me, calling me a homewrecker’s daughter, a natural temptress, a complete lowlife. Dean said nothing, but the way he looked at me grew deeper, more profound. When we switched seats, the entire class ostracized me; no one would sit with me. They even moved my desk and chair next to the trash can. Only Dean stood up, saying he wanted to sit next to me. I sensed his intentional approaches, but my own humiliation kept me from thinking too much. He advanced; I retreated; each deliberate encounter left me fleeing in embarrassment. But I never expected Dean to follow me all the way home. My father’s cruelty had left me with a broken bone, forcing me onto sick leave. Dean showed up with my homework, only to stumble upon my parents in a furious argument. In truth, my mother was the original wife. My father had drained her dowry, swindled all her money. Then he demanded a divorce, leaving her with nothing. To make my mother give up, he’d flaunted his mistress, cruelly branding my mom a hussy. The mistress lived downstairs, and whenever Dad passed her building, he would look at her deeply. Each time he did, a beating awaited me at home. To buy me medicine, Mom once ran barefoot through a rainy night, only to die beneath the wheels of a delivery truck. Dad was delighted for a long time, stayed out all night, and the next day, couldn’t wait to bring his mistress into our home. Out of deference to my presence, they could only communicate with their eyes. Every unintentional glimpse of my father’s gaze would send shivers down my spine. The night I turned eighteen, my father looked at me with that same chilling gaze. He tried to lock me in my room, and I brought him down with a wine bottle. On the run, I crashed into Dean, who had come to bring me my homework. My father, wielding a carving knife, cornered us in an alley. The second before the knife fell on my head, Dean lunged forward. Police cars and ambulances arrived simultaneously. Dean’s shoulder was shattered, bone visible. Yet, he was still smiling at me. “Audrey, you’re safe now.” With those words, he passed out. I stayed by his side all night. When he awoke, we naturally became a couple. Tears streaming, I gently touched the bandage on his shoulder. “You love me deeply, I can see it. I can read a person’s heart through their eyes. If your gaze ever changes, I’ll leave.” Eighteen-year-old Dean, with effort, lifted his other arm and playfully ruffled my hair. “Silly girl, then you’ll never see it.” I knew he didn’t believe my words. And I never imagined, one day, that very sentence would become a prophecy. After that night, the taunts targeting me at school completely vanished. All the students became exceptionally warm towards me. Dean proudly lifted his chin, like a peacock fanning its tail. “See? I told you. You’re incredibly charming. Everyone will love you. No need to be insecure. As long as I’m here, you’ll be a cherished princess.” He guided me, little by little, to shed the shadows of the past. Taught me to emerge from self-doubt and look up at the sunshine. It was only a month later that I found him in the alley outside the school, relentlessly beating a bully. “That’s for messing with Audrey! Do you get it now?” “Audrey loves strawberry cake. Understand what I mean?” “Now get lost!” The memories blurred. The look in his youthful eyes, I could no longer recall. 4 I returned alone to the apartment I’d lived in before marriage, resting for three days. Dean sent no messages. The company group chat occasionally popped up with chatter. “Then Harper is a shareholder now? She’s really shot up, huh? Must be close to becoming Mrs. Davies?” “What do you mean ‘must be’? Haven’t you seen Mr. Davies call Harper into his office every day? A man and a woman, alone, what else could they be doing?” “Don’t call her Secretary Harper anymore, call her Mrs. Davies, unless you want to lose your job!” “What about Manager Hayes? Didn’t she also like Mr. Davies—” “Please. She doesn’t even wear makeup. What man would look at a woman like that? Is unrequited love uncommon in this company?” … When I chose to keep our marriage a secret, he’d said he didn’t want employees gossiping. Now, it seemed, it was merely for his convenience when he wanted to bail. On the fourth day, I went to the office as usual. And handed in my resignation to HR. She looked at me, surprised. “Manager Hayes, you’re resigning? Does Mr. Davies know? I can’t approve your resignation without his consent.” “Who doesn’t know you’re a company veteran? Your leaving would be like cutting off Mr. Davies’s right arm!” No sooner had she spoken than I heard a scornful voice from outside the door. “What’s there not to approve? She just couldn’t face it anymore.” “After all, every project she ‘handled’ only got successfully signed after it was given to Secretary Harper. If I were her, I’d have packed my bags and left ages ago!” “Secretary Harper’s latest project single-handedly took the company public. Could Audrey Hayes do that? Calling her a trophy wife is an overstatement; she’s practically a toilet!” The projects they spoke of were plans I’d tirelessly worked on, night after night. But each time, at the final hurdle, Dean would hand them over to Harper. I swallowed the surge of indignation, smiling as I looked up. “Yes, you’re absolutely right. That’s why I’m resigning. Please, move aside.” “I hope the company reaches new heights under Secretary Harper’s leadership. With her, everyone’s salaries are sure to soar.” “Damn, who are you being passive-aggressive for? I’ve always disliked you. Just because you’re a manager, you think you’re the boss’s wife?” A colleague, seething with anger, started to lunge at me. She was stopped by someone beside her. “Alright, why waste time with someone like her? Can’t do her job, can’t hold onto a man, still single at her age. She’ll have a bitter pill to swallow later!” Ignoring their reactions, I carried my resignation form into the elevator. As the doors slowly closed, my body gave out. I sank to the floor, hugging my knees tightly. Ten seconds later, I stood again, my usual resolute demeanor restored. I strode directly into Dean’s office. Harper was on Dean’s couch, munching loudly on potato chips. “Manager Hayes? Oh, wait, sister-in-law? What are you doing here?” Harper, as his secretary, was the only one in the company who knew my true identity. Dean’s explanation was that it made it easier for her to arrange his work. But ten years passed, and I saw no work convenience. Only her convenient provocations. My gaze swept over the chip crumbs on the sofa. The irony was biting. Before, when I entered his office, even a cup of coffee was a luxury. He’d always claimed I’d dirty the carpet, stain the couch. Said it would tarnish the company’s image. Now, with Harper, all those rules seemed to have vanished. Dean’s face instantly chilled as he saw me. “Don’t you know how to knock?” “Can’t you see I’m busy? Get out, knock again!” Harper tossed the chip bag to the floor, quickly stepping forward to mediate. “Mr. Davies, don’t be angry. Sister-in-law didn’t mean it. She was just in a hurry.” “Besides, we’re family. What would the employees outside think if you just made her leave?” I shot her a cold glance. “Since when do you have a say here?” Harper’s pretty, innocent expression froze. Tears welled in her eyes. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have made sister-in-law angry. I’ll leave right now.” She barely took two steps before Dean abruptly grabbed her wrist. “Stop right there. This is my office, and it’s not up to her to decide who stays or goes.” He looked at me, his gaze challenging. “What, realized your mistake? Coming to beg me now? Too late!” I gripped the paper in my hand. “Sorry, I’m here to pick up the divorce papers.” My last shred of pride wouldn’t allow me to show weakness in front of Harper. After instinctively lying, Harper’s face changed. She quickly walked to me, taking my hand. “Sister-in-law, please don’t be rash! Is this because of me that you’re getting divorced?” “What did I do wrong? I can apologize to you. If it comes to it, I can resign and leave. Please, don’t argue because of me!” Dean’s patience had reached its limit, his voice laced with suppressed fury. “Audrey Hayes, I told you, there’s nothing going on between me and Harper. Believe it or not!” “You want a divorce, huh? Fine. Just don’t regret it!” “Before you leave, change all project leads under your name to Harper, return any bonuses to the company, and go wherever you want. I won’t stop you!” My eyes burned, a searing disbelief etched into my gaze as I stared at him. “Those were my sleepless nights, countless hours I put in! What right do you have to just hand them over to her?” Dean didn’t even glance at me, turning his back irritably. He lit a cigarette, the tip glowing. Harper seized the moment, throwing herself against the corner of the table. Blood instantly welled on her forehead. Her face was chalk-white. “Sister-in-law… I’ve already apologized! I don’t want the projects! I don’t want anything, isn’t that enough?” “I’ll leave. I’ll leave the company right now. Don’t make it hard for Mr. Davies…” Before I could react, Dean had already scooped her up. His eyes blazed at me with fury, and he slapped me hard across the face. “Audrey Hayes, Harper has already apologized! Are you never going to let this go?!” “My patience with you all these years has made you forget your place. Fine, you want a divorce? I’ll sign right now!” The resignation form fluttered from my hand, landing on the table, overlapping with the divorce papers. Dean didn’t even glance at them, swiftly signing his name three times. He left me with only his retreating back, Harper cradled in his arms. A gust of wind blew through. I wiped the tears from my face. Then I walked downstairs, hailed a cab, and headed straight for the airport. At the hospital, after Dean finished treating Harper’s injury, a strange sense of irritation gnawed at him. Thinking of the projects Audrey had painstakingly worked on for half a year, he forced himself to calm down. He knew that for Audrey, the projects were paramount, so he had deliberately suggested changing the project lead to Harper, certain she wouldn’t agree. That way, he could legitimately refuse the divorce. But he hadn’t expected to impulsively sign the papers just now. After much deliberation, Dean tentatively sent me a message. “There’s an issue with the project. Come to my office later so we can discuss it in person.” A glaring red exclamation mark appeared before my eyes. The next second, a call came through to Dean Davies. “Mr. Davies, no good! All of the company’s projects have been stolen!” A frantic voice echoed through the speaker. “The other party is using the exact same proposals as us! They even know our bottom-line pricing!”

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My wife exploded in rage. All I’d done was press a mere inch deeper into her during intimacy. “Who gave you the gall? To dare to covet a place even Jasper has never reached!” “You shameless wretch, I’ll make you remember your place!” She ordered my legs broken, had the word “filth” carved across my skin, and then forced me to pay her a hundred million dollars in emotional damages. I toiled from dawn till dusk, working seven jobs a day just to pay off the debt. But my wife found my common labor an embarrassment, so she locked me in a custom-built, electrified kennel for “reflection.” My young son, crying as if his heart would break, managed to sneak me out when the bodyguards weren’t looking. For that, my wife had him beaten viciously and then left for the stray dogs outside. “You damned little bastard! How dare you defy my orders! This is what happens!” Watching my son, his small body mauled and bloody, I knelt, frantically apologizing, begging her for just a sliver of money for medical care. But she just smirked, flinging an outrageous bill for a billion dollars in my face. “You two useless pieces of trash, you owe me so much, and you have the audacity to ask me for money! If it’s not paid in full within twenty-four hours, prepare to collect that little beast’s corpse!” My heart turned to ash. As I crawled back, clutching the few hundred dollars I’d gotten from selling my blood, my son’s body was already stiff and cold. Meanwhile, news of my wife lavishing billions on a global art exhibition for her childhood sweetheart was sweeping through the city’s elite circles. I clutched my son’s mangled remains, tears streaming down my face, the grief a dull blade gouging at my heart, searing deep into my bones. 1 In a hushed corner of the hospital, my son lay still, lifeless in a spreading pool of blood. His small body was a map of grotesque wounds, his face barely recognizable. I collapsed beside him, my hands trembling as I reached out, wanting to gather him into my arms, yet terrified to touch. A tidal wave of agonizing pain consumed me, drowning out everything else. Nurses bustled past, oblivious, their excited whispers about the trending news piercing the suffocating silence. “Oh my god, spending a fortune just to make her childhood sweetie smile. Is this what rich people’s love looks like?” “Of course, only a genius artist like Jasper Davies deserves a top-tier female CEO!” “Another love story, and I’m crying over it!” Their shrill voices, repeated over and over, flayed my soul. My hand touched the thin stack of bills in my pocket. I couldn’t even afford a proper urn. In desperation, I dialed Valerie’s number. After a long, agonizing wait, her furious voice blared through the receiver: “Caleb Thorne! You have the nerve to call me! I put you in that cage for reflection, to give you a chance to reform! Who gave you the audacity to escape? Breaking the kennel means you owe me another hundred million! Or I swear, I’ll feed that little brat to the dogs!” Another absurd excuse. For seven years, Valerie had found endless ways to humiliate me. I had grown accustomed to it, but then a man’s voice filtered through the line. “Thorne, you messed up, so you deserve the punishment. My sister was merciful enough not to kill you, why can’t you learn to behave?” My heart was a raw, throbbing wound. But to give my son a proper burial, I had to crush my pride. My voice was barely a whisper. “Please, just a thousand dollars more. I’ll find a way to pay you back. I just want to bury my so—” Valerie shrieked, cutting me off, a shrill, hysterical sound. “Shut up! Don’t use that worthless brat as an excuse! He’s dead, and he’s not worth a penny to me! I’m warning you, if you don’t pay up, it won’t just be broken legs this time!” Her scream threatened to shatter my eardrums. I collapsed to the floor, tears streaming down my face. Around me, the nurses’ laughter rippled, oblivious. Outside, on the massive screen, endless loops of my wife and Jasper kissing sweetly played on. In that moment, my heart turned to ash. I took the last few dollars I had, crawling to the crematorium gates, begging until my head bled and my knees were bruised purple. Only then did they grudgingly agree to cremate my son. The raging flames devoured everything, along with my last flickering hope, reducing it all to dust. I couldn’t even afford an urn for his ashes, so I stripped off my shirt, wrapping his remains inside to carry them home. The moment I pushed open the door, a sticky, cloying scent hit me, sickeningly sweet and opulent. I gagged, stumbling towards my son’s bedroom, hand clamped over my mouth. Torn stockings and lace lingerie lay scattered across the floor, tangling around my feet, as if mocking my helplessness. I frantically kicked them away, but their filthy residue clung to my shoes, the glistening streaks a blinding, nauseating glare. I fought back the urge to cry, reaching under the bed for a crumpled photograph. In it, I held my son, smiling, while Valerie stood behind us, her back to the camera, distant and cold. She had never been affectionate with Leo; this secretly taken picture was his only keepsake of her. The least I could do was let it accompany him on his final journey. I carefully tucked the photo into the ashes, preparing to leave. Footsteps sounded suddenly outside the door, and a harsh, familiar voice echoed: “Well, if it isn’t Valerie’s lapdog, stripped bare and crawling back home?” Jasper leaned against the doorframe, his eyes brimming with contempt. I merely looked at him, saying nothing, tightening my embrace around the cloth-wrapped ashes. His eyes narrowed. He stepped forward, reaching out to snatch the bundle from my arms. “What did you take?!” I clutched it tighter, my voice raw. “Don’t touch my things!” At my words, Jasper scoffed, his tone dripping with disdain. “What in this house is yours? Not even your wife, she’s mine. A man as useless as you might as well just die!” He puffed out his chest, revealing faint, suggestive marks there, a blatant display of triumph. In the past, I would have fought him, even if it killed me. But now, all I wanted was to properly lay my son to rest. I didn’t even glance at him, just numbly tried to walk past him, out the door. But Jasper suddenly exploded, kicking me hard in the lower back. He grabbed my hair, brutally yanking away the cloth containing the ashes. “You worthless piece of garbage! You don’t deserve to touch anything of mine!” The cloth ripped, and the pale-gray ashes scattered across the floor. A heart-wrenching scream tore from my throat. I stumbled, desperate, scrambling on hands and knees to gather the ashes. But a high heel crushed my fingers, pinning me down. I looked up, following the leg, to see Valerie towering over me, her eyes overflowing with unconcealed disgust. “Caleb Thorne, you are truly disgusting.” Her icy voice cut through me like a sharp blade, piercing directly to my soul. I bit down, teeth clenched, but no sound escaped. Jasper, brazenly wrapping an arm around Valerie’s waist, whined pitifully, “I was just worried that he might take the wrong thing, and then he just attacked me all of a sudden. I guess I shouldn’t have interfered. After all, he’s the man of the house… I guess I deserved to get hit.” I reached for the photograph, my voice a pathetic whisper as I knelt on the floor. “I’m sorry. I just want my things back. I promise I’ll never appear before you again.” Valerie looked down at the photo beneath her foot, then bent to pick it up, shaking off the ashes. As the image became clearer, she chuckled, a cold, dismissive sound. Without a hint of hesitation, she tore it to shreds. “No!” My eyes burned, bloodshot, as a desperate scream tore from my throat. “A worthless piece of paper, and you cherish it so much? How ridiculous!” The fragments fluttered down, mirroring the shattered pieces of my own heart. I lifted my head, my throat raw and hoarse, demanding: “Valerie Stone, do you have a heart? Leo was your own flesh and blood! He was so small, he used to clutch your picture even in his sleep and call for ‘Mommy’!” “What did he do wrong, that you wanted him dead?!” No sooner had the words left my lips than Valerie’s hand flashed out, delivering a stinging slap across my face. “What are you, some kind of saint, to lecture me? You two useless parasites, you eat my food, use my money, and you dare defy me?” Her voice rose to a shrill crescendo. “His only mistake was having a worthless father like you!” I clutched my burning cheek, blood seeping from the corner of my mouth. Jasper stepped forward, a smug grin plastered on his face, feigning concern. “My bad, I honestly didn’t know you’d wrap his ashes in your shirt. But he’s dead, and keeping his remains is just bad luck. How about I clean it up for you?” As he spoke, he picked up a vacuum cleaner, ready to switch it on. Blood rushed to my head. I lunged forward, pushing him with all my might. But before I even touched him, Valerie’s foot lashed out, kicking me to the ground where I retched up a mouthful of blood. “How dare you lay a hand on Jasper?” Her voice was laced with menace. “Touch him again, and I’ll make your life a living hell!” I clutched my chest, gasping for air, my eyes filled with a desolate despair. “Valerie, let’s get a divorce.” At my words, she scoffed, as if I’d just uttered the most hilarious joke. “You owe me money, and you think you can just divorce me? You don’t deserve to!” Her voice sharpened, venomous. “Until that debt is paid in full, you won’t take a single step outside this house!” I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to stand, tears welling in my eyes. The once kind and gentle Valerie had died long ago, buried in distant memories. The ridiculous truth was, until this very day, I had still clung to a sliver of hope. That someday, she would remember the good in me, and our family could return to what it once was. Through blurred vision, I managed a bitter laugh, meeting her gaze once more, my voice resolute. “Fine. I’ll pay you back.” No sooner had the words left my lips than I snatched the dagger from the table, plunging it fiercely into my abdomen! The wet, tearing sound of the blade sinking into flesh echoed eerily in the silent room. Valerie’s brow furrowed, her pupils dilating in shock. I swallowed the metallic tang in my throat, a grim smile on my face as I looked at her. “Will my organs be enough to pay you back?” Valerie froze for a second, then her face contorted in furious disbelief. “Caleb Thorne, what the hell are you doing?!” Her voice was shrill. “Don’t think this pathetic stunt will make me go soft on you!” The pain was a raging fire, searing through my insides, but it couldn’t compare to the shattering despair of my heart. Blood dripped onto the floor, blooming into a crimson stain. “Not enough? Then let’s try again!” I pulled out the blade as if unfazed, then aimed for my chest and plunged it in again. Valerie rushed forward, snatching the knife from my hand, her voice seething with anger. “What are you doing?! How much is your pathetic life worth, anyway?!” A string of insults, too vile to be repeated, flowed from her lips. “I’m warning you, you owe me money, and not a single cent will be missing!” Jasper cowered behind her, timidly tugging her sleeve. Valerie immediately, tenderly, wiped the blood from his face, then roughly shoved me to the ground. “If you want to die, get out of here! Don’t scare Jasper!” I pushed myself up, clutching the last of the ashes and the photo fragments to my chest. Covering my bleeding abdomen, I stumbled to the door and pushed it open. “Thank you for letting me go. When I save up enough money, I’ll file for divorce.” Valerie scoffed, her voice dripping with mockery. “You? A worthless piece of trash no one would even pay for on the street. You wouldn’t pay off that debt in eight lifetimes!” She spat. “You’ll come crawling back to me on your knees, begging!” I said nothing more, just gave her a cold, hard look. Gritting my teeth, clinging to consciousness, I stumbled out of that cage. Jasper, clinging intimately to Valerie’s hand, feigned concern, but his eyes burned with a murderous hatred for me. “He just left like that. He won’t… do anything drastic, will he?” Valerie merely glanced at him, her tone dismissive. “Don’t worry, that good-for-nothing leech, he’s too afraid to die.” My body swayed in the biting wind, but it couldn’t match the desolation in my heart. “I’m so sorry, Leo. Your dad… your dad was useless.” I stumbled along, two long bloodstains snaking behind me on the pavement. Under the strange stares of passersby, I crawled to the organ donation center. Lying on the cold operating table, my consciousness began to blur. Yet, a look of profound relief touched my lips. My son, I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you. Let your father, with this broken body, send you off on your final journey. … A week later, Jasper Davies’s art exhibition tour began as scheduled. Valerie, looking at the bustling crowd, felt a sudden, inexplicable sense of unease, as if some crucial detail had slipped her mind. “Valerie, what’s wrong? You look awful.” Jasper approached, his voice laced with concern. Valerie squeezed his hand, forcing a strained smile. “Nothing. Just a little tired lately, I guess.” She closed her eyes, and Caleb’s bloody image flashed in her mind again. Just then, her phone vibrated violently. A cold sweat broke out, and she fumbled for it, her fingers trembling. The screen blared a notification: a transfer of a billion dollars.

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1 After we married, my wife took my paycheck, claiming it was to save for a house. On my phone, she activated a “Family Link” allowance. She called it my spending money, insisting she covered all household expenses. But the $1,500 monthly limit barely covered my living and commuting costs. By month-end, I often found myself struggling to afford a meal. Every single purchase triggered her interrogation: “What did you buy now? You’re over your limit today. Don’t come crying to me when you’re broke by month-end.” “You took a cab to work today? Do you really think you’re a millionaire?” I once believed Victoria’s obsessive saving was for our future. Then, I got a promotion and a raise. To celebrate, I treated my colleagues to bubble tea. She logged into the delivery app and requested a full refund, no return. The furious merchant, to vent his rage, threw the prepared drinks in my face, then publicly cursed and hit me. As I cried and paid for the damage, I found my Family Link allowance completely shut off. Moments later, my wife’s junior assistant posted a picture on social media, cradling a luxury handbag, with the caption: [One moment in the cart, the next in my arms! My boss-lady spoils me rotten!] It was at that exact moment I understood: where the money went, that’s where the love truly lay. Flushed with the news of my promotion and raise, I excitedly treated my colleagues to bubble tea. I’d barely finished paying with my Family Link allowance, still on the app, when a voice call from my wife popped up. The next second, Victoria’s icy voice cut through: “$307 for bubble tea? Aaron Caldwell, have you lost your mind? Refund it, now!” Her voice, sharp and cold, echoed from the receiver, filling the office. My colleagues, who’d just placed their orders, shifted uncomfortably, their gazes turning to me. My face burned crimson. I stammered, trying to explain. “No, babe, it’s not like that. I got a raise, and my colleagues helped me out a lot, so I just wanted to treat everyone…” She scoffed, a venomous sound. “Three hundred bucks for bubble tea today, what, a thousand for dinner tomorrow? Do you have any idea how much you make? Keep splurging like this, are we ever buying a house? Paying rent? How are you going to last the next two weeks? You’re just an employee, don’t you dare act like a big shot! Refund it, now!” Her impatient words hammered at my skull, dazing me. The joy I’d felt, eager to share, was instantly doused, leaving me cold to the bone. The office fell silent. I sat hunched at my desk, unable to lift my head, avoiding the pity in my colleagues’ eyes. My own eyes burned, dry and stinging. I couldn’t tell if it was disappointment or sheer helplessness. I could only plead, my voice raw: “It’s already paid for, please, just this once? The merchant already started making them; I can’t refund it. I only ordered the cheapest lemonades. Please, don’t make a scene in front of my colleagues, okay?” Her mocking chuckle filtered through the phone. “You can’t refund it? I’ll do it for you.” Then she hung up. An unsettling dread swelled in my chest, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm. I was still awkwardly trying to explain to my colleagues when a man with a dark scowl suddenly barged through the office entrance. He carried a dozen or so prepared bubble teas, his gaze zeroing in on me with deadly precision. 2 I pushed myself up, taking a hesitant step towards him. The next second, scalding bubble tea, laced with furious curses, splattered all over me. “Only a partial refund, huh? You’re threatening me? You work in a fancy office building but you can’t even pay for your own damn bubble tea? If you can afford it, drink it. If not, go to hell!” Cup after cup, the hot, sticky liquid drenched me, stinging my face and skin. My colleagues made a move to intervene, but the merchant’s next words nailed them to their spots: “You scam me out of perfectly good bubble tea? This isn’t over!” The sheer, burning humiliation made me tremble. I fumbled for my phone, my voice shaking as I tried to call for help. “I’m calling the police! This is defamation…” As I tapped open the delivery app, I saw a notification: my account had been logged in from another location. I logged back in, only to find Victoria’s chat history with the merchant, ending with her last message: “If you don’t refund, I’ll report you to the consumer protection agency! Why can’t I refund bubble tea I haven’t even drunk? Try shutting down your business if you dare!” The order page blared “Partial Refund Successful.” The merchant let out a cold, chilling laugh. He landed a brutal punch square on my face, roaring, “Call the cops! I’ve got nothing to lose, buddy! Even if my shop closes today, I’ll make you pay!” The blow sent me sprawling to the floor, my mouth instantly filling with the coppery taste of blood, my ears ringing violently. All eyes in the office were on me. A deathly silence stretched, then whispers erupted. “Freeloading on bubble tea? That’s so embarrassing…” “I swear, I knew Aaron was cheap, but I never thought a grown man could have such terrible character!” “Someone like that deserves a promotion and a raise? What a joke! He’s a total embarrassment to the company!” The swirling accusations made me feel naked, every contemptuous word piercing me. I swallowed the blood in my mouth, my face pale, and apologized to the merchant. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know about the partial refund. I’ll transfer you the money for the bubble tea.” “I’m truly sorry.” The merchant gave me a cold once-over, then pulled out his payment QR code. My face was tight with shame as I scanned it. But after several attempts at inputting my password, the screen kept flashing “Insufficient Balance.” Just then, a message from Victoria popped up. “Did the bubble tea taste good? (smile smile)” My Family Link allowance showed zero. I stood frozen, staring at the “payment failed” screen, my heart sinking into a freezing abyss. “What? No money to pay? Damn it, if you can’t pay, just die!” “Used to freeloading, are you? Think I’m running a charity?” Amidst the merchant’s impatient curses, I numbly opened a loan app, borrowed four hundred dollars, and transferred it to him. He received the money, spat on me, and then stalked off, muttering insults. Looking at the ninety dollars left in my balance, I suddenly felt utterly pointless. I don’t know how I walked back to my desk. My mind was blank, countless gazes burning into me. Each one stung like a needle. Victoria sent another message: “Happy about your promotion? Still celebrating?” For the first time, I didn’t reply. I just sat there, my expression empty. My suit shirt was soaked through with bubble tea, clinging to my skin, cold and sticky. 3 The feeling was nauseating, disgusting. After an eternity, I pushed myself up and stumbled to the restroom, desperate to wash the sticky, milky residue from my skin. My phone buzzed in my hand. It was Noah, Victoria’s junior assistant, who had just posted on social media. The photo showed him lounging casually in a brand-new sports car, a luxury watch glinting on his wrist, a triumphant grin on his face. “One second at the dealership, the next it’s mine. Mwah! My boss-lady spoils me rotten!” The photo was cleverly taken, subtly revealing a flash of lingerie in the backseat… the very lingerie I’d helped Victoria pick out that morning. I stood frozen, my gaze locked on that photograph. My breath caught in my throat, a panicked flutter in my chest. My hand trembled, my finger accidentally brushing the screen, “liking” Noah’s post. Before I could even react, Victoria’s call came through, her voice heavy with accusation: “Aaron Caldwell, are you never going to stop? Is it really that interesting to constantly invade my privacy? You want to see so badly? Fine! Come over now, I’ll give you an eyeful!” I stood, ashen-faced, in the corner. A thousand tiny ants of pain gnawed at my heart, suffocating me. Soon, the coppery taste of blood filled my mouth again. The sheer absurdity and unbelievable nature of it all left me numb, my head throbbing with a dull ache. Five years of marriage, in this moment, felt like a cruel, elaborate joke. My throat burned. I swallowed the blood, my voice hoarse. “Victoria, what am I to you, really?” The person on the other end paused, her breathing rasping into the receiver. After a long silence, she, uncharacteristically, offered an explanation: “I just refunded a couple of bubble teas. Do you really need to be so dramatic, like your life is ending? Fine, I’ve restored your allowance. Just stop bothering me with these petty issues!” Petty issues? So, in Victoria’s eyes, my humiliation and ridicule by colleagues was a petty issue. Being assaulted and doused with bubble tea by a furious merchant was also a petty issue. Was only Noah’s well-being considered important? Hearing her dismissive placation, I squeezed my eyes shut, suppressing every emotion. Then I asked her: “Victoria, I was so humiliated at work today. I want to resign and find a new job. Is that okay?” Victoria’s voice instantly shot up, her tone laced with unbearable irritation as she accused me: “Are you threatening me? Is it because I didn’t let you spend money however you pleased? Aaron Caldwell, have I spoiled you too much? Can’t you think about our future?” I blinked, my dry, aching eyes burning. The irony was suffocating. How could she so righteously accuse me of squandering money, yet without a flicker of hesitation, spend hundreds of thousands on a luxury car for Noah? Was it because I never fought, never demanded, simply devoted myself to her for five years? The glowing screen of my phone, displaying that pathetic $1,500 Family Link allowance, felt like a series of stinging slaps across my face. Mocking. Absurd. I had been working overtime for a solid week, so utterly exhausted that my vision blurred, as if I might collapse at any second. Pain pulsed in my chest. I asked her: “Did you ever truly consider our future? Victoria, in your eyes, am I truly that stupid?” Perhaps the despair in my voice was too obvious, or perhaps my choked sob reached her ears. Victoria paused, took a breath, and, suppressing her impatience, spoke to me: 4 “What nonsense are you talking about? I’m just worried about money, darling. Don’t overthink it. How about I take you out for dinner when I get back from overtime, okay?” “Alright, I’m hanging up. You reflect on what happened today.” I remained silent on my end of the call. Victoria coughed, then cooed softly. “Honey, if you feel tired, just hold on for a few more years, then you won’t have to work. I’ll take care of you after that, okay? Be good.” She hung up abruptly. Just before the call disconnected, Noah’s mocking laugh filtered through: “What are you going to support him with? That fifteen-hundred-dollar monthly allowance? Even a dog costs more than he does!” His voice dripped with scorn. “I’m dying laughing! Is Aaron that idiot, weeping tears of gratitude right now? Sister, isn’t this what you call playing good cop, bad cop? You’ve got him so obedient and docile!” His grating laughter slammed into my heart, a dull, aching thud. I squatted on the floor, my throat tight with pain. The agony made me curl into a tight ball, my hands pressed hard against my chest, the only way to alleviate the bone-deep torment. I had never imagined that the person who swore to love me forever, to stay by my side always, would unleash such a calculated, deadly blow. This blade, she had plunged it with precision and cruelty, leaving me barely an inch of breathing room. It was only at this moment that I finally understood where Noah’s naked aggression and animosity towards me had truly stemmed from. I wanted to cry, but my eyes were bone-dry, not a single tear left to shed. I sat there all night, numb and aching. Victoria didn’t contact me. She simply didn’t care if I stayed out all night. She never once bothered to ask about my overtime or work dinners. Before, I thought it was trust. Now, I understood: it was indifference. On my phone, a picture message from Noah: a provocative bedroom shot. He’d captioned it: “The person you stayed up all night thinking about? I was with her all night long.” He added another jab: “Aaron Caldwell, are you getting old? Not performing anymore?” If this had been before today, seeing these photos, I might have lost my mind. I would have stormed to Victoria’s office, screaming and fighting. But now, as I pulled at the corners of my lips, my heart was eerily calm, not a ripple. No. I don’t want Victoria anymore. This marriage, which had consumed me and left me broken, I don’t want it either. First thing in the morning, I called in sick to work and went to the bank to report my payroll card lost and request a new one. Even though there wasn’t a single cent left in it, I clutched the card tightly in my palm until a thin film of sweat formed. From this day forward, I would never again hand my destiny so easily to anyone. After printing out the divorce papers, I took a cab to Victoria’s office. Bad luck would have it, I ran into Noah just as I arrived. Victoria must have told him about yesterday’s events, because the moment he saw me, he walked over, feigning apology. “Aaron, I’m so sorry about yesterday. I was just messing around on my sister’s phone and accidentally refunded your bubble tea.” He tilted his head, a smirk playing on his lips. “I heard you two argued? Seriously, you’re a grown man, fighting with her over a few bucks? You should have just appeased her.” He leaned in conspiratorially. “But don’t worry, I really comforted her yesterday. I’ll convince her to come home.” Noah gave me a triumphant grin, his eyes openly mocking. It was at this moment I finally realized: my feelings for Victoria had long been eroded by her relentless, daily emotional manipulation. The provocation from the man in front of me didn’t even stir a flicker of anger within me. All I wanted was to quickly dissolve this misguided marriage. 5 I looked at Noah and smiled. “Victoria and I are still legally married. Spouses argue; it’s perfectly normal. Why would outsiders need to mediate?” I paused, letting my words sink in. “As for you, so young, yet content to be a homewrecker… that must be hard on your conscience, isn’t it?” My voice sharpened. “Do you truly believe Victoria will support you for life? Stop dreaming. Boys like you, she just plays with.” Noah’s face cycled through shades of dark fury. He glared at me, the dark circles under his eyes stubbornly visible even through heavy concealer. He seemed to have an idea, suddenly leaning in, reaching to grab my arm. His voice dropped to a whisper, audible only to us. “Aaron Caldwell, you don’t know, do you? Victoria… she’s pregnant.” He paused, then added, “It’s mine.” I froze. Victoria’s recent unusual behavior suddenly clicked into place. A wave of nausea surged in my stomach, and I couldn’t stop myself from dry-heaving. I instinctively tried to pull away from Noah’s grasp, but in my haste, my arm swung out and accidentally hit his face. Noah’s eyes instantly welled with tears. He snatched up his bag and swung it at me like a madman, shrieking, “Aaron Caldwell, I already apologized! Why are you still hitting me? The unloved one is the homewrecker, you’re the third wheel in this love story! I’m not!” He used all his strength, the blow sending a ringing shockwave through my head. I hadn’t been prepared. He struck me, breaking my skin, and warm blood trickled down my cheek, splattering onto the floor. Watching Noah’s hysterical outburst, I trembled with fury, my hand already raised to strike back. But before I could touch him, someone grabbed my wrist from behind. Victoria suddenly appeared, forcefully stopping my movement, her voice a cold warning: “Aaron Caldwell, try hitting him, I dare you!” Just then, Noah lunged, slamming his fist hard into my stomach. I crashed to the ground, my back hitting a desk, the pain draining the color from my face. Victoria’s gaze swept over me. Seeing the blood on my face, she hesitated, then frowned, turning to Noah. “You hit him?” Noah glared back defiantly, his eyes burning with resentment. “Victoria, he insulted me first, calling me a leech, and then he hit me. When I dodged, my bag accidentally hit him. I didn’t mean to, but if you’re upset, I’m willing to apologize to Aaron!” As he spoke, he made to kneel. At Noah’s willingness to swallow his pride for her, Victoria’s heart softened. She pulled him back behind her, pursed her lips, and softened her voice towards me. “Noah is young and impulsive; he didn’t mean it. What’s the point of coming to the office and making a scene first thing in the morning?” She looked at me, her gaze hardening. “Aaron Caldwell, when did you become so unreasonable?” I lay sprawled on the floor, and then, slowly, a bitter laugh escaped me. I pushed myself up, struggling to my feet. Meeting Victoria’s gaze, I raised my hand and slapped her hard across the face. SMACK! The sharp crack of the slap echoed through the office, drawing gasps and turning many heads. A clear red imprint quickly bloomed on Victoria’s cheek. Her face cold, her eyes glacial, she glared at me, gritting her teeth as she hissed, “Feel better now? Had your little tantrum? Can you stop acting like a lunatic and embarrassing yourself at the office?!” I pulled at the corner of my lips, meeting her gaze without flinching. Then I threw the divorce papers directly at her face. “Even now, you still think I’m just having a tantrum with you?” My voice was clear, unwavering. “No, Victoria. I’m divorcing you.”

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During the fan sing-along segment of the concert, the roving camera suddenly stopped on me. I quickly got up, waving my hands. “Excuse me, I don’t really know your songs. I’m just here with a friend.” The fans in the crowd immediately booed. “Not even an Asher fan and sitting front row?! What a waste of good seats!” He, however, just stared at me blankly, his eyes visibly reddening on the close-up shot. “There’s one song, I’m sure you’ll know.” That night, the hashtag “Pop Ballad King Asher Vance’s First Love” trended on social media… 1 Just moments before, my best friend, Riley, had been sobbing hysterically over not getting front-row tickets to Pop Ballad King Asher Vance’s concert. The next minute, someone in a fan group added her on a messaging app and offered two tickets for free. She leaped up, hugging me, laughing and crying as she invited me along. Hearing that familiar name, I stiffened slightly. “No thanks, Riley, I’m not really into pop stars.” She pulled my hand, her face beaming. “Trust me, Skylar! You just need to see one show, you’ll fall in love with him, I swear!” Now, I sat less than five yards from the stage, hiding behind Riley’s enormous fan light stick, covertly watching the guy on stage, strumming his guitar and singing ballads. His eyes held a gentle smile, seemingly gazing off into the distance, yet his focus felt as intense as if he were looking only at me. Lost in thought, Riley suddenly grabbed my shoulder, shaking me wildly. “Ah!! Skylar, what are you spacing out for?! You got picked to sing on stage! Go, go!” Only then did I realize the camera had somehow landed on me. The girl on the giant screen snapped back to reality, staring blankly, waving her hands. “Sorry, I don’t really know your songs. I’m just here with a friend.” The surrounding fans immediately erupted. “Seriously, sis! If you’re not an Ash fan, why are you in the front row? What a waste of a spot!” “Don’t waste our time! Pick another fan!” Then, rabid fans like Riley shrieked, “Ah!! I’m her friend! Can I go up instead?!” Amidst the fan commotion, they didn’t notice the man on stage drop his guitar, only staring blankly at me, his eyes visibly reddening on the close-up shot. “You’re fine, miss. Don’t worry, there’s one song you’ll definitely know.” Riley pushed me onto the stage, my legs moving towards him before my mind caught up. The camera zoomed in on us. I stood there, stiff, nervously twisting the hem of my dress, but his smile was as warm as a spring breeze. “May I ask your name?” I took a deep breath, calming my hammering heart. “Skylar Hayes.” “Can you play the piano?” “Yes.” He led me to the piano and sat down. “For the next song, I’d like to play my breakthrough hit, ‘That Summer.’ ” Then he leaned in, his voice low. “Just follow my melody with simple chords.” The stage lights dimmed suddenly, leaving only a single spotlight on us. Silence enveloped the arena. It felt like the entire world had faded away, leaving only the two of us. The faint, elusive scent of lavender from Asher clung to the air, and my scattered thoughts slowly calmed. The opening notes began, and the chords, etched deep in my memory, flowed naturally from my fingertips. Every harmony, every duet, his voice rich and deep, mine clear and bright—we were so in sync, it was as if we’d sung it a thousand times before. Until the last lyric faded, and the song’s lingering notes died down. The quiet crowd erupted in cheers. “That song! It’s the title track from Asher’s first album! They say it’s about his high school sweetheart, but he’s never sung it at a concert before! Talk about a throwback!” “The male-female duet version is so beautiful! Good thing I recorded it! Love it, love it!” “A total stranger can sing that well?! My ears have ascended! I swear you guys were lip-syncing, boo hoo!” Before I stepped off the stage, he suddenly hugged me, whispering in a voice only I could hear: “Skylar, long time no see.” The embrace was fleeting. He smoothly slipped a signed poster into my arms. “Thanks for your amazing performance, Skylar.” I stumbled off the stage, still a bit dazed. Riley threw her arms around me, practically rubbing herself on me. “You hugged my idol, and I hugged you. By extension, I hugged my idol!” Then she eyed me suspiciously. “That song’s from his early album. It’s not very well-known, only old fans would know it. Skylar, you’ve got hidden depths! And you said you weren’t an Asher fan.” I didn’t explain—I wasn’t Asher Vance’s fan. I knew that song because we wrote it together in high school. 2 Back home, the faint, familiar scent of lavender still clung to me. I abandoned the idea of a shower, collapsing onto the couch instead. With practiced ease, I opened my social media search history and clicked on Asher Vance’s profile. It had been my nightly ritual for years. The irony wasn’t lost on me: I didn’t even have the courage to follow him. Ten minutes earlier, he’d posted an update: “She came to my concert.” The caption was accompanied by a photo. In the picture, a girl in an Evergreen High uniform—a simple white uniform, neatly pressed—stood with a high ponytail falling to her shoulders. Though her face wasn’t visible, her silhouette alone hinted at a graceful, blossoming figure. A pang shot through me. She? Was he talking about me? Just then, my phone rang. “My heart is shattered, Skylar! My Ash just went public! I’m dying!” Riley’s wails poured from the phone. “Huh? Where did you see him ‘go public’?” I was confused, but a flush crept onto my cheeks. That post, while a little suggestive, wasn’t that clear, was it? Riley abruptly hung up, leaving a hurried, “Check the trending topics!” Only then did I see it: a female singer named Cassidy Bell had retweeted Asher’s post. “From junior to fellow artist, finally waited for this day.” I clicked on her attached photos. One showed her holding a bouquet of flowers, standing beside Asher on a stage, both smiling brightly. Coincidentally, she was wearing an Evergreen High uniform, her long hair tied in a high ponytail, perfectly matching the silhouette in Asher’s post. The other was a selfie taken from the audience at today’s concert, where she wore a baseball cap, skillfully angled to look like she was kissing Asher’s cheek. The fans exploded. “What a perfect couple! I just went to a concert, and ended up with a mouthful of dog food!” “The golden couple of the music industry, they’re made for each other!” “Raising the ‘AshCid’ banner high! My ship has finally sailed!” A slow, sickening realization dawned on me. She in Asher’s post, was Cassidy Bell. The red heart emoji after her text seemed to burn into my eyes. I rubbed my aching eyes and drifted off to sleep, fully dressed. In my dream, I was back in high school. I encouraged Asher to join the school singing competition with me. But on the day of the finals, I lost my voice due to a cold and cough, forced to withdraw. It was his first time winning. As I took pictures to commemorate the moment, the girl who took second place, her face flushed, handed him a bouquet. “Hello, senior. I’m Cassidy Bell from freshman class 3. Your singing is beautiful. Can I take a picture with you?” When I woke, my eyes were damp. So, Cassidy Bell was that freshman girl who used to constantly trail after us in school. That photo of her holding flowers on her social media? I was the one who took it. But what right did I have to be upset? I once thought I was a golden girl, destined for greatness, and that Asher and I were inseparable. Even though Asher, after my “makeover,” was always surrounded by girls, I still believed our feelings for each other simply remained unspoken. Turns out, I was the clown all along. I hadn’t slept well, and by the time I dragged my luggage onto the school bus, swaying all the way to Willow Creek Elementary in the rural county, I thought I was hallucinating. I saw Asher Vance. I rubbed my eyes three times, finally confirming I wasn’t mistaken. Despite the surge of wild joy, my face remained calm as still water. “What are you doing here?” He offered a cautious, placating smile. “I was afraid you might misunderstand what’s trending, so I came specifically to explain.” 3 My face remained cold, unyielding. He followed me docilely, trailing behind as I taught the children, ate meals with them. In the evening, we lay side-by-side on the hillside, watching the sunset. He told a few exaggerated jokes, making the children burst into peals of laughter. Finally, I let out a soft chuckle too. “Alright, kids, head back to school. I have something to discuss with your Ms. Hayes.” Whether it was the glow of the sunset or something else, his face was a little flushed. The children giggled, scampering down the hill, leaving me alone on the grass. Sigh. These innocent kids, bought over by this seemingly harmless, handsome guy in just one day. We lay shoulder to shoulder, neither of us speaking. The silence stretched, a little awkward. I broke it first. “You’ve changed a lot. You used to be so brooding and quiet. In all the years I’ve known you, this is the first time I’ve heard you tell jokes. It’s good.” But he wouldn’t let me change the subject. “Skylar, the person I was referring to on my social media was you. I don’t know why Cassidy would post something so misleading, but I don’t want you to misunderstand my relationship with her.” “If you didn’t give her the wrong idea, why would she be so desperate to go public with you?” I was a firm believer that it takes two to tango. Remembering the fans’ unearthed “sweet interactions” between them from yesterday, my heart felt like it was being pricked by needles, a sharp, insistent ache. “Skylar, do you know how much effort I put into finding you? You just vanished for so many years without a word. If I hadn’t secretly followed your car home right after the concert last night and sat outside your apartment building all night, then followed you to this charity school early this morning, I don’t know how long you would have kept hiding from me. All these years, do you have any idea what I’ve been through?!” I looked at his bloodshot eyes, and my heart, despite everything, ached for him. I raised my hand, intending to gently caress his cheek, but his phone rang at an inconvenient moment. Seeing “Cassidy” on the screen, my hand froze, then slid down his shoulder as I pretended to brush off some grass. “Go on, answer it. If you’re not guilty, why won’t you?” The incessant ringing was grating on my nerves. He patted my head reassuringly and answered. “Asher, please don’t be mad, okay? I was wrong last night. I shouldn’t have posted that without your permission. But… that was my dad’s idea too!” “You posted such a suggestive message without the company’s approval, not only violating your contract, but did you even consider how your fans would react?!” The voice through the earpiece was tearful, but soft and pleading, almost like a whine. After hanging up, he rubbed his temples, explaining helplessly. “Cassidy and I are both artists under Starbound Entertainment. Starbound Entertainment’s boss is her father. Skylar, please give me some time to sort all this out. One month, I just need one month…” “No need, Asher. We’re not that kind of relationship anyway. You don’t owe me an explanation.” I cut him off, my words cold and detached. “The wind’s picking up. Let’s go.” Asher left. He was a busy man; it was already a miracle he’d spent this day with me. Listening to the rumble of his car engine fading away, I hid in my room, biting my pillow to muffle my sobs. The once confident Skylar, who never truly saw other girls as a threat, had finally been worn down by years of successive upheavals, consumed by anxiety and fear of loss. Perhaps it was because I’d cried for Asher for so long, that his figure filled my dreams. 4 Freshman year, I was obsessed with music, spending every spare moment in the school’s piano room. There was always someone hiding outside the door, secretly listening to me play. One day, I played a recording on my phone, then quietly opened the door and caught the lurking figure red-handed. He wore a pair of comically oversized, nerdy glasses. His washed-out uniform looked ancient, and his sneakers were even coming unglued. I eyed him curiously, watching his face redden until he was bright scarlet, before I finally chuckled. “Hey, if you like piano, why don’t you join me every day? Don’t just listen from outside.” “I… I really like listening to you play, but I’ve never learned piano…” he stammered in explanation. That was my first meeting with Asher Vance. He was in my grade but a different class, even a different building, because I was in the Honors Program, and he was in the lowest-ranked regular class. But at my earnest invitation, he started coming to the piano room with me every day. I also learned from him that his parents sold vegetables at the farmers’ market near the school; he was one of the few low-income students. “I love music so much. I want to study performing arts and audition for college, but my family can’t afford it,” he confessed once we grew closer. He was sixteen, just like me, should have been carefree, but instead he was meek and quiet due to his insecurity. “That’s easy! I’ll find you a music teacher right now!” I slapped his shoulder, declaring grandly. I led him to the office. “Mr. Hayes, I found an incredibly talented student for you. Would you give him some free lessons?” That’s when he realized my father was the school’s music teacher. My dad, true to his word, began giving Asher free vocal lessons and teaching him guitar. He progressed rapidly. Even my dad, who rarely praised anyone, raved about Asher’s talent and diligence. In sophomore year, Asher won the school singing competition. I excitedly grabbed my dad’s hand, jumping up and down. “I told you he’d be your best student!” My dad just gave me a knowing, teasing glance that instantly made my face flush. I tutored him in academics, my dad taught him music. Three years later, he successfully auditioned and got into the best music conservatory in the country… After a night filled with dreams, I woke up with two massive dark circles under my eyes. As I shuffled to the bathroom to brush my teeth, Asher Vance stood in front of me, dragging a suitcase. “Skylar, I went back yesterday and sorted out my work. I plan to stay by your side from today onwards.” He grinned at me. After that, no matter how cold I was, he clung to me, refusing to leave. With his sunny, energetic personality, he quickly replaced me as the children’s favorite teacher. We seemed to have returned to our high school days. Though we hadn’t seen each other for years, our interactions were so familiar, it felt as if we’d been living together for a lifetime. When I uploaded the demo I’d spent half a year perfecting, I immediately received countless messages from fans: “Echo is finally back! A once-in-a-millennium event!” Even famous singers reached out: “What about that song you promised? This one should be mine, right?” Below, fans immediately jumped in to tease: “Don’t even think about it! Echo never writes a song that isn’t tailor-made for Pop King Asher! I strongly suspect she’s his ultimate fangirl!” Then, a sharp-eared fan asked, “Could Echo be in love? The entire track has such a joyful vibe, pink bubbles practically overflowing from the screen. This isn’t the usual Echo style!” When I saw that comment, I choked on a mouthful of water, coughing uncontrollably. Was it that obvious? Though I had to admit, ever since Asher started staying by my side, that tight string in my mind, stretched for years, had finally relaxed. 5 One morning, the youngest child in our class, who should have been at school, didn’t show up. A frantic panic seized me. The child was a day student, leaving home before dawn every morning, crossing a mountain to get to school. I was terrified she might have met with some danger on her way. I immediately asked the principal to watch the other children, then ran out of the school gates to look for her. Asher followed close behind me. We walked, calling her name. Finally, halfway up the mountain, we heard a faint cry. The girl had fallen into a ravine, soaked through, having been there for an unknown amount of time. My eyes welled up, and I started to rush down, but Asher pulled me back. “There’s no stable footing here, it’s too easy to slip. I’ll go. You wait for me on the slope.” Then, without a moment’s hesitation, he ran down. He carefully checked the girl’s oddly twisted foot, then wrapped her in his jacket and carried her on his back. He climbed back up, drenched in sweat. “The ambulance can’t get here. Her leg is broken. We need to drive her to the hospital now.” We rushed the girl to the nearest hospital. Thankfully, the treatment was prompt. Aside from a broken right leg, the girl was otherwise fine. After the surgery, the doctor immediately recognized Asher, his face lighting up with excitement. “Asher, hi! I’m a huge fan! Can I get your autograph?” I instinctively tried to pull away, afraid the fans would misunderstand our relationship. But he grabbed my hand, lacing his fingers through mine. “Of course!” The girl’s parents were migrant workers in the city, so she lived with her elderly grandmother. To spare the grandmother worry, we hired a nurse for the girl, then drove back to the village and found her home. As I watched Asher, kneeling on the ground, gently holding the trembling old woman’s hand, reassuring her: “It’s alright, ma’am, the child is doing very well. You don’t need to worry about the surgery or hospital fees; I’ve already taken care of it…” A sudden warmth spread through my heart. I thought, this, just being together every day like this, feels really good. Walking back to the school dormitory, side-by-side, I took a deep breath, took his hand, and said, “Asher, how about we…” “Senior, long time no see.” A cold voice cut off my confession.

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My father, Mr. Dawson, had pressed charges against Ashley Hayes, the company’s financial controller, for embezzlement. She was staring down a life sentence, and her future, as far as we knew, was sealed. My fiancé, Dex Vance, was on his knees, begging my father to spare her. His desperate plea ignited my father’s fury, who then threatened to send Dex straight to prison alongside her. In my previous life, I had shielded Dex. I’d defied my father, knocked Dex out, and dragged him away, ensuring his freedom. Ashley, however, had been sent to prison and took her own life within those walls. When Dex woke, he thanked me profusely for saving his future, showering me with even more tenderness and affection. We married soon after, and I quickly became pregnant. But on the very night I gave birth, he colluded with my father’s rivals, severing our company’s financial lifelines and forcing my father into bankruptcy and suicide. As for me, he imprisoned me in our home, then sliced me open, tearing the life from my womb. While I lay in agony, teetering on the edge of consciousness, he smiled—a chilling, hollow smile—and drowned our tiny, gasping baby in the toilet bowl. “Did you ever consider this day,” he’d whispered, “when you murdered Ashley and the child I carried within her?” “I want you to live through every moment of this – watching your father leap to his death, seeing your child flushed into the sewers, and finally… watching your very being torn apart, piece by agonizing piece.” The world spun, then snapped back into focus. I was back. Back to the day Dex Vance knelt outside Dawson Industries. This time, I decided to let him have his way. 1 “Mr. Dawson, Ashley really just made a mistake, a momentary lapse. Please, just this once, forgive her.” The words were the first thing I registered upon opening my eyes. Dex Vance, kneeling on the pavement outside Dawson Industries. He was a man who prided himself on his aloof dignity, yet here he was, prostrate, for Ashley. My father’s assistant, a kind man, nudged me. “Miss Dawson, please, talk some sense into Mr. Vance. What Ms. Hayes did is too serious. Besides, Mr. Dawson has irrefutable evidence that she’s a spy sent by a rival company. He simply cannot let this go.” I lifted my gaze to Dex, his face etched with earnest desperation. In my past life, it was this very scene, this fear of his entanglement, that had driven me to knock him out and drag him away. I never imagined it would lead to my utter ruin. Reborn into this life, I decided to stay out of it. “It’s his choice,” I stated, turning away. “But… if he keeps kneeling, Mr. Dawson said he’d send him to prison right along with Ashley!” The assistant’s voice rose, the warning clear, inevitably reaching Dex’s ears. He turned his head to me, his eyes blazing with disgust. “Olivia Dawson, satisfied now?” Dex’s voice was as cold as ice, as if I were the architect of his misery. I simply watched him, a sudden surge of absurdity washing over me. “Satisfied with what? Ashley’s the one who made a mistake. What does that have to do with me?” His face contorted, eyes flickering with an unreadable emotion, before quickly settling into a facade of righteous indignation. “What are you talking about? Ashley is innocent! She was just used!” “Innocent?” I let out a soft, mocking laugh. “Embezzling thirty million dollars, with undeniable evidence. Where exactly is her innocence? Or do you think my father conspired with the courts and police to frame her?” His face instantly darkened, a hint of viciousness flashing in his eyes. “Isn’t that exactly what he did? Olivia, do you really think your father can control everything?” The assistant quickly intervened, his voice urgent. “Mr. Vance, you can’t just say things like that! Be careful Mr. Dawson doesn’t hear you and terminates your position!” Dex’s face went through several rapid changes, as if the reality of his position as a future son-in-law, dependent on our family’s good graces, finally registered. He seemed on the verge of speaking, then bit back the words, glaring at me before abruptly standing and walking away. I knew he was going to find Ashley. As long as he stayed out of my way, I couldn’t care less. I stepped into the Dawson Industries building. Leaving my father’s office, a profound sense of relief washed over me. Just moments ago, I had successfully persuaded him to dissolve my engagement to Dex. “Perhaps it’s for the best,” my father sighed, his expression complex. “I held onto that old family arrangement your mother made, unwilling to break it. I never imagined this young man would turn out to be such a disappointment.” “In three days, I’ll announce it to everyone. For now, get some rest.” I nodded, but then my father’s assistant rushed in, looking distraught. “Miss Dawson! Ashley Hayes tried to kill herself!” My father had only just filed the lawsuit against Ashley; her case was still in the evidence review phase. She was temporarily confined to the basement of her own villa. This time, perhaps because I hadn’t intervened in Dex’s pleas, her suicide attempt had happened even sooner. When I arrived, the scene was chaotic. Ashley was clutched tightly in Dex’s arms, a bandage wrapped around her slender wrist, her face ashen. Seeing me enter, she instantly recoiled, burrowing deeper into Dex’s embrace like a startled rabbit. “Dex… I really don’t want to live… this feeling of being framed is just too unbearable…” Her voice was a faint, tearful whisper. Dex stroked her hair with tender concern, but when he looked at me, his eyes were piercingly cold—exactly like they were in my past life when he’d murdered me to avenge “Ashley.” “Olivia Dawson, are you and your father really so determined to wipe her out? Ashley has already proven her innocence by trying to take her own life! What more do you want?” A security guard, who had been watching her, quietly explained, “Miss Hayes sharpened a toothbrush and tried to… luckily, we found her in time…” Dex looked down at the trembling Ashley in his arms, his voice instantly softening. “Don’t be afraid, I’m here…” Ashley leaned weakly into his embrace, but through Dex’s shoulder, she cast me a triumphant smile. My fists clenched. In my previous life, I had been completely deceived by such theatrics, ultimately leading to my family’s ruin. But Dex, precisely, fell for her every act. “If she didn’t have a guilty conscience, why would she stage a suicide attempt?” I demanded, glaring at Dex. “And you, Dex Vance, do you remember who you are? What right do you have to speak to me like that?” At my words, Ashley’s tears streamed down her face. “Miss Dawson, I’m so sorry… please, don’t take it out on Dex…” She trembled, clutching at Dex’s sleeve. “Dex, go… don’t mind me… I don’t want to drag you down…” Dex’s head snapped up, his eyes burning with furious rage. He pulled Ashley even tighter, then swept her into his arms. “Ashley, I won’t abandon you!” “Don’t listen to this crazy woman. We’re going straight to the hospital!” He hurried away with Ashley. As he passed me, he lowered his voice, cold and menacing. “Olivia, if anything happens to Ashley, I swear I’ll make your family pay!” I watched their retreating backs, slowly unclenching my whitened fingertips. Then, I pulled out my phone and dialed a number I hadn’t touched in years. “Noah, I’ll agree to our engagement.” My voice was steady, despite the turmoil within. “But first, could you… do me a favor?” 2 That evening, just as I stepped into my apartment, the door violently crashed open. The jarring slam, kicked open by Dex, made my ears ache. His usually composed and dignified face was now a mask of twisted rage, his eyes swirling with an almost unbearable hatred. “Olivia, you almost killed Ashley’s baby!” Baby? I froze, a horrific scene from my past life flashing through my mind. Tied to a delivery bed, I watched, helpless, as Dex, in rubber gloves, wielded a scalpel and sliced open my abdomen. Blood gushed, and I screamed, a raw, primal sound of agony, but he merely smiled—a gentle, terrifying smile. “Don’t be afraid, it’ll be over soon.” He’d ripped my barely formed fetus from my womb, then… right before my eyes, he’d pressed that tiny, curled-up life into the toilet. Flush! The sound of the water, rushing and swirling, had felt like my very soul being torn to shreds. “Ashley’s pregnant?” I forced myself to remain calm, pretending to be unaffected. Dex seized my jaw, his grip so fierce it felt like my bones would shatter. “What are you playing dumb for?” He sneered, then flung a stack of papers from his briefcase onto the floor. “Sign it.” I looked down. It was a confession. It clearly stated that I admitted to framing Ashley for embezzlement. He wanted me to take the fall for her! “Just sign it, and I’ll pretend none of this ever happened.” His voice softened, his thumb tracing a path along my cheek. “We can still get married, just like before. I’ll keep spoiling you, keep loving you.” My stomach churned. This man truly thought I was a child he could fool! In my previous life, he had used that same tender tone to coax me into drinking drugged milk, then personally sliced open my belly. “Dex,” I said, my voice cold. “I’ve already told my father to break off our engagement.” My gaze hardened. “I am the daughter of the Dawson family. Marrying me is your privilege, not mine. What right do you have to threaten me with it?” His expression twisted instantly. The next second, a searing pain tore through my scalp. He yanked my hair, slamming my head hard against the coffee table! “Bitch!” Warm liquid trickled down my forehead. I curled into a ball on the floor, his gleaming leather shoe pressing down on my hand. The pain made my vision swim, but I bit down hard on my lip, refusing to make a sound. Dex leaned over, his fingers tightening around my throat, his voice chilling, as if pulled from the depths of hell. “Are you going to sign, or not?” “Never… in your dreams!” I choked out, each word a struggle. A cold glint flashed in his eyes. He suddenly snatched the fruit knife from the coffee table and plunged it fiercely into my palm! “Ah!” Blood splattered onto his pristine white shirt, blooming like crimson roses. My body convulsed with agony, but he held my wrist down, his grip unyielding. “This is just the beginning.” He raised the knife again, this time pointing the blade at my stomach. “I imagine you wouldn’t want to experience being cut open again, would you?” In that instant, his sinister face merged with the one from my past. Seeing the ruthless glint in his eyes, my heart seized with a sudden, panicked beat. He remembered too. He had been reborn. The memory of that searing, soul-shattering pain made me tremble uncontrollably. “I’ll sign…” I stammered, extending my uninjured left hand. Dex’s face broke into a satisfied smile. He pressed a pen into my fingers. Blood dripped onto the paper, blurring as I scrawled my name, intentionally tearing the paper on the last stroke. “Do you really think this will save Ashley?” I whispered, a weak, mocking laugh escaping my lips. “Even if you force me to sign, can you silence me? Dex, we’ll meet in court. I’ll expose every single one of your crimes right there.” This time, my father was alive. As long as he was here, I feared nothing. His expression instantly became savage, and he clamped his hand around my throat. “You worthless bitch!” But just as quickly, he let out a cold chuckle and released me. I clutched my throat, gasping for air, and looked up to see his chilling, malicious smile. “This is your choice. I have plenty of ways to shut you up.” He snarled, then turned and left without another glance. A wave of dread washed over me, a strong premonition of disaster. Soon enough, that premonition proved true. “Miss Dawson! You have to come quickly! The warehouse is on fire!” 3 That afternoon, a phone call from the assistant made my heart leap into my throat. When I arrived at the warehouse, the sight before me turned my blood to ice. This massive storage facility, holding hundreds of millions of dollars worth of imported raw materials, was now engulfed in a roaring inferno. Thick plumes of smoke billowed skyward, and the wail of fire truck sirens grew closer. Amidst the raging blaze, my father was inside, desperately trying to salvage goods alone. “Dad!” I screamed, a raw, tearing sound, and rushed in, heedless of the danger. The thick smoke choked me, blurring my vision, and the heat seared my skin. I stumbled forward, my hands outstretched, finally finding my father behind a collapsed shelf. “Olivia, what are you…” He was covered in blood, his voice a mere whisper. “Get out… quickly…” “I’ll get you out! We’ll go together!” I gritted my teeth, helping him to his feet. But the next second, what I saw made my eyes widen in horror. At the warehouse’s only emergency exit, Dex Vance was slowly closing the fire door. He stood there in his impeccable suit, a chillingly elegant smile on his lips, as if admiring a meticulously staged artistic performance. “Dex!” I shrieked, a desperate, gut-wrenching sound. “Open the door!” He tilted his head, his long fingers pressing a silent ‘shush’ to his lips. “Shhh…” The fire door closed inch by agonizing inch, sealing us off completely from any hope of escape. “No!!” I dragged my father, frantic, towards the door, but at the last possible second, a collapsing shelf blocked our path with a deafening crash. Thick smoke flooded my lungs, and my consciousness began to waver. In a haze, I saw Dex through the glass door, his lips forming a silent message. “This is your fault.” In the final moments before darkness consumed me, I stared at that blurry figure, pouring all my remaining strength into a curse. “Dex Vance, even as a ghost… I won’t let you go…” At that moment, Dex’s assistant, standing beside him, spoke up, a hint of fear in his voice. “Mr. Vance, are we really just going to let them burn to death in there? What if the police investigate…?” But Dex merely chuckled, shaking the signed confession in his hand. “What’s there to be afraid of? They’ll be dead, completely gone, turned to ash. What could the police possibly find?” He flashed an utterly brutal smile, one that sent shivers down the spine of the person next to him. The next day, Dex Vance strode into Dawson Industries, radiating confidence. On the large screen outside the building, news of the Dawson Industries fire was playing. Dex paused for a moment, seeming to admire his triumphant handiwork. In his mind, the Dawson family father and daughter were dead, and the signed confession was in his grasp. Everything had gone so smoothly. “Olivia, what good was a second chance at life? This time, I still won!” He carried the documents into the CEO’s office, a look of smug satisfaction on his face. “Mr. Dawson, the Dawson father and daughter have perished in the fire. Regarding our partnership…” He respectfully placed the documents on the desk. “Excellent. You’ve gone to great lengths.” Mr. Dawson flipped through the documents, then suddenly looked up and subtly gestured to his secretary. The secretary immediately understood, turned, left the room, and locked the door behind her. As Dex watched, bewildered, Mr. Dawson suddenly stood up and bowed deeply to a figure behind a large screen. “Mr. Blackwood, sir, the person you requested has arrived.” “The evidence of his arson and corporate espionage has also been submitted to the police.” “Before the police arrive, is there anything you wish to say to him?”

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My A-list actress wife, Seraphina Sterling, had always maintained strict boundaries: no man other than me was permitted to touch her. Even in group photos with male co-stars, she kept a discreet arm’s length. Until my birthday. That day, her new co-star, Sebastian Reed, posted an update. The photo showed Seraphina allowing Sebastian Reed to embrace her from behind, his arm circling her waist. The caption read: 【Eight years a fan, now sharing the screen with my idol? Manifest that dream, Sebastian Reed! Keep chasing your light (fist emoji)!】 I commented with a single question mark: 【Is that your wife you’re clutching onto?】 Seraphina’s call came through almost instantly. “My co-star, he’s like a little brother, just got carried away with the excitement of working with an idol. Don’t be so narrow-minded. Be a good husband, delete the comment.” The internet crowd swiftly condemned me for being overly possessive. Sebastian swiftly updated his post: 【The path to dreams is often paved with misunderstanding, but my guiding star reminds me not to lose heart.】 Watching the overwhelming wave of positive comments drown out any dissent, I made a call. By the next day, Sebastian’s lead role was gone. 1 “Do you know how important this role was to Sebastian? He prepared for two years just to nail that audition! And you, with some bogus charge, you’re just going to ruin all his hard work?!” This was Seraphina’s first real fight with me, and it was over a fresh face in Hollywood. I let out a cold laugh. “The power to greenlight or axe projects rests with me. Since I possess that power, why shouldn’t I use it?” This particular production held immense commercial potential. The director had secured Seraphina, an A-list actress, and had then brought me in as an investor. At least within the confines of this project, my word was law. Why would I forfeit my advantage, to “fairly compete” with some rookie who dared to post pictures embracing my wife? The internet mob might be unaware, but this young man, whose career I had funded and supported, knew exactly who my wife truly was. “Seraphina, listen closely.” I rose, cupping her face in my hands. “I am your husband. And while ours might be a marriage of convenience, that doesn’t mean you’re exempt from giving me even the most basic respect.” Besides, our union wasn’t entirely devoid of genuine emotion… “I told you, there’s genuinely nothing going on between us,” Seraphina insisted, pushing me away, a sharp, decisive gesture. “We’re playing a couple on screen. Am I not even allowed to act with him? Why do you always jump to the worst conclusions?” “Nothing at all?” I took out my phone and showed her the barrage of online comments. Under Sebastian’s post, countless netizens were wildly celebrating: 【Oh my gosh! That scene wasn’t in the script! His hand was practically wrapped around her waist! If that’s not love, what is?!】 【So sweet, I could die. Everyone knows Seraphina never lets men touch her, and Sebastian practically had her in his arms!】 【Rumors floated around that the A-list actress had a secret marriage. Thank god I didn’t fall for that!】 … Seraphina frowned. “The internet mob always twists things. You can’t take any of that seriously!” “And you, Seraphina?” I pressed, stepping closer. “You’ve navigated Hollywood for years. Are you really unaware of the impact that post would have?” She faltered. I let out a cold laugh. “You knew exactly how people would interpret that, you knew I had a possessive streak, yet you let it happen!” “Julian Thorne, for such a trivial matter, are you really going to be this unreasonable?!” CRASH! The vase shattered on the floor. Seraphina looked at me, startled. “Why do you get to define my ‘trivial matters’?” I asked, my voice dangerously low. For five years, we had lived in respectful harmony. Though our union began as a business arrangement, countless moments of shared intimacy had forged a genuine bond over time. She had even told me she only allowed me to touch her. This was our first real fight, the first time I’d ever laid a hand on her. All because of a boy I’d once sponsored. “Just calm down,” Seraphina snapped, snatching her bag, and stormed out, the door slamming shut behind her with a sickening thud. In the living room, my birthday cake sat on the coffee table, still untouched, its box pristine. 2 The very next day, a new trending topic exploded online: Seraphina Sterling walked off the set. Trolls mocked me mercilessly: 【Seriously, though. That leech thinks he’s so rich he can just axe Sebastian? The A-list actress just put her foot down and walked off!】 【Who does he think he is, anyway, hahaha!】 【Does this confirm it? Seraphina and Sebastian are actually a thing?!】 【Still asking? Seraphina never lets men touch her, and Sebastian practically had her in his arms! I’m melting…】 The entire internet condemned me. Due to the nature of our arranged marriage, our families had agreed to keep our union private. This led many netizens to mistakenly believe I was Seraphina’s “delusional fan,” even dragging my name through the mud on social media for days. Each time, Seraphina had them taken down. But I knew her true colors—this was her defiant way of showing me. The director called me, practically in tears, begging me to persuade Seraphina to return. But honestly, I had no idea where she was. She’d vanished after her announcement, wouldn’t even pick up my calls. Just then, my phone buzzed. Sebastian had a new post. In the photo, he was perched in a helicopter, sunglasses on, a skydiving pack strapped to his back, his hand firmly clasped with another. Seraphina, who typically shunned extreme sports, had a faint smile playing on her lips. Her gaze wasn’t on the camera, but on Sebastian. The caption read: 【They say hearts beat truer under pressure. Will my guiding light feel the same pulse for me, in this very moment?】 I replied to the director. “Sebastian just posted something. The photo should give you a clue where he is.” “Huh? Mr. Thorne… no, he hasn’t.” “What?” My mind went blank. The director sent a screenshot. Sebastian’s last public post was three days ago. I quickly messaged a few mutual friends. Sure enough, only I could see that particular post. Sebastian had set it to “viewable only by me”… Seraphina couldn’t possibly be unaware of the photo’s implication. Yet she simply smiled at him, letting him capture the moment. It was a deliberate provocation from both of them. Two years prior, I could have just cut off his sponsorship allowance. But now he was self-sufficient, and my financial backing had shifted to resource allocation, which was no longer effective in controlling him. My assistant cautiously asked, “Mr. Thorne, are you… alright?” “Of course.” I let out a cold, dismissive laugh. In business, taking a hit or being double-crossed was just part of the game. If I couldn’t handle that, I wouldn’t be where I am today. The director was still wailing on the phone. My brow furrowed. “Alright! Enough dramatics. This afternoon, I’ll personally bring you the new lead!” 3 After a week of playing hide-and-seek, Seraphina finally deigned to return. But what greeted her was not a frantic production team and a hysterical me. Instead, she found a set already in full swing, and a young woman meticulously attending to me. The director, beaming, rushed to my side. “Thank god, Mr. Thorne, for finding such a perfect fit! Otherwise, this whole production would have gone down the drain!” Seraphina saw Willow Greene delicately lighting my cigarette. In a flash, she snatched the cigarette from my lips and flung it to the ground. “Julian Thorne.” I merely glanced up. Trailing behind her was Sebastian. Seeing another woman by my side, a flicker of triumph, quickly masked, entered his eyes. “Yes?” I replied with a detached air, gesturing for Willow to bring me another drink. Seraphina’s temple pulsed. “What do you mean ‘yes’? Shouldn’t you be explaining yourself?!” “Explain what?” I asked, a genuine question. “When two leads abandon a project, I naturally have to find replacements.” “Do new actors need you to personally supervise them?! Where do you find the time for that?!” Seraphina, her face ablaze with anger, pointed accusingly at Willow. Willow recoiled two steps. I moved to shield her. “Don’t frighten her. She’s new to the industry; she needs guidance.” “Heh…” Seraphina looked as if she hadn’t heard me right. “Guidance from you? Julian Thorne, what kind of impression do you think this gives others?” My patience wore thin. “I sponsored her career. What’s wrong with me teaching her?!” “Sponsored?” Seraphina froze. Seeing Willow cower behind me, her anger flared. “Does sponsorship require such… intimate service? Are you truly blind to her intentions?!” “Mr. Thorne, I didn’t…” Willow quickly tried to explain to me. I smiled reassuringly at her, nodding slightly. Then I turned, frowning at Seraphina. “I sponsor her, and she’s kind to me. Is that not normal? Or are you expecting everyone to be like the man behind you—accepting my patronage, getting promoted to a major production, then openly posting pictures embracing my wife?” Seraphina and Sebastian froze, as if struck by lightning. Seraphina cast a complex, unreadable glance at Sebastian. “You… sponsored him?” Willow spoke up. “Mr. Thorne has sponsored many talented individuals, not just me and Sebastian.” “Shut up!” Seraphina glared fiercely at Willow. I pulled Willow firmly behind me. “I told you, don’t bully my people!” Seraphina was not one to make a scene in public. Even at her breaking point, she still suppressed her fury, then took Sebastian by the arm and walked away, leading him out of my sight. That evening, I returned home. The first thing I saw was Seraphina, her eyes distinctly red-rimmed. I frowned. “What’s wrong with your eyes?” “Julian.” Her voice was a little rough. “I was wrong. Let’s make peace.” 4 I hadn’t expected such a drastic shift in Seraphina. “Why the sudden change of heart?” “Seeing you with Willow today… it made me feel incredibly uncomfortable. But there’s genuinely nothing going on between us.” “I know, and I believe you.” She pulled out her phone and handed it to me. “But it was enough to drive me insane. I imagine that’s how you felt, watching me and Sebastian. I’m so sorry, I was completely out of line before.” I opened her phone. It was Sebastian’s message history. He was still relentlessly messaging her. 【Seraphina? Why suddenly ghost me? We had so much fun out there, didn’t we?】 【??? Answer me! Seraphina! Did Julian say something to you? I swear, I only see you as an idol, a beacon of inspiration!】 【Seraphina, you have to believe me. I’ve been your fan for eight years; you’re my guiding light. I would never do anything to jeopardize your marriage… please, just talk to me…】 … Messages continued to pop up. Seraphina snatched the phone back and instantly blocked him. The phone finally fell silent. “I’m so sorry…” She tentatively moved closer to me. When I didn’t pull away, she gently embraced me. “I just wanted to get a reaction from you, to needle you. It wasn’t until I stood in your shoes, watching you and another woman, that I truly understood how much I hurt you… Julian.” She looked up, pressing a soft kiss to my lips. “Can we please stop fighting?” “Okay.” This marriage was, at its core, a business arrangement. I wouldn’t sever it lightly. Besides, it wasn’t entirely devoid of emotional connection. This whole incident was simply a matter of her being misguided. Ultimately, the damage wasn’t irreparable. I had only intended to teach her a lesson. A harsh lesson learned, a goal achieved. No need to make a bigger mess than necessary. The very next day, chaos erupted on set. Sebastian returned to the set, blocking my path, his eyes red-rimmed as if he’d cried all night. “I know it was you. Why can’t you believe I’m just a genuine fan pursuing an idol? Do you really believe everyone who gets close to her has ulterior motives?” He finished, then pulled a knife from his sleeve. Willow gasped, attempting to push me out of the way. But he plunged it into his own wrist. Blood welled up, spilling onto the ground, painting a crimson stain. Everyone froze, horror-struck. He held up his bleeding wrist, looking at me with an expression of profound grievance and long-suffering. “Is this enough to prove my innocence, Mr. Thorne?” “Call an ambulance. Don’t let him die on my set.” I turned, my voice calm, giving the order. My eyes met Seraphina’s. She had appeared, silent, at some point. “Seraphina!” Sebastian’s eyes flared with hope. I frowned, watching Seraphina. She cast a cool, dismissive glance at Sebastian. “It was my decision. Don’t bother him again.” Sebastian’s face was a mask of utter disbelief. Seraphina stepped between me and Willow, a deliberate barrier. She took my hand and led me away. She didn’t even spare Sebastian a backward glance. 5 Sebastian became an overnight joke. He had intended to create a scene, to humiliate me. But instead, Seraphina had completely shut him down. After returning home, Seraphina publicly announced our marriage. Sebastian was instantly roasted by the entire internet. He had only reached the spotlight through my patronage. Without my backing, even low-budget web series wouldn’t touch him. What did that have to do with me? He dug his own grave. If he had been half as compliant as Willow, I wouldn’t have abandoned him. Lately, however, Seraphina had often been seen frowning at her phone. She had indeed severed all contact with Sebastian. When she wasn’t looking, I discreetly peeked. It was a mutual friend. They had sent a series of photos and screenshots of Sebastian’s social media posts. In every picture, Sebastian was disheveled, working on small, obscure sets. His eyes would be red-rimmed as he endured verbal abuse. After filming, he would kneel on the ground to scrub the floors. Big-name actors would slap him across the face without hesitation. Another screenshot of his social media read: 【No matter the disgrace, my guiding light taught me not to surrender. Keep moving forward, and hope will always appear.】 The last message in the chat was Seraphina’s: 【Don’t send me these anymore.】 I allowed myself a faint smile. Seems the lesson had taken root. As a reward, the very next day, I visited Seraphina on her set. I even personally cooked her favorite ribs soup. The moment I arrived, Seraphina, her eyes red, confronted me. “Why would you do something like this?” “What?” “Don’t pretend you don’t know!” She swiped her hand, sending the thermal lunchbox I carried flying. It made me stumble. Scalding ribs soup splashed onto my hand and chest, instantly blooming into an angry red rash. “Mr. Thorne!” My assistant cried out, rushing forward. “Ms. Sterling! Mr. Thorne is injured!” “It’s just a little scald, hardly as severe as Sebastian’s injuries!” With that, she yanked a disheveled, dusty young man towards her. 6 I hadn’t expected Sebastian Reed to be an extra on Seraphina’s set. The filming was kept under wraps; most people shouldn’t have known about it. It clicked. Just half an hour before my arrival, Seraphina had stumbled upon Sebastian, acting as a stunt double. He was thrown onto a rooftop, tumbling down, again and again. The director was never satisfied. Thus, he would violently throw himself onto the rooftop, over and over. Seraphina initially had no intention of intervening. But when she saw Sebastian, covered in bruises, still gritting his teeth and throwing himself into the stunt, a wave of empathy washed over her. She remembered her own days as an extra. Those days, repeatedly throwing her body until her bones felt like they were shattering, enduring endless verbal abuse from directors, only to throw herself again and again—it was a past she could never bear to revisit. So she stepped in front of Sebastian, demanding to know whose idea this brutal sequence was. The director, terrified, didn’t dare breathe a word. Seraphina pointed a cold, accusing finger at my name on the investor list. “You don’t have to say it. I know. Julian Thorne, do minor actors deserve this fate?” Now, Seraphina stood over me, looking down, shielding Sebastian securely behind her. “I’ve given you more than enough love and respect. Why must you persist in destroying him completely?” My assistant grew frantic. “Ms. Sterling! Mr. Thorne never…” “Don’t explain!” I pressed a hand on my assistant, enduring the pain, and stood up, looking at her with cold eyes. “If you believe it’s me, then let it be.” Sebastian’s eyes lit up, and he quickly looked at Seraphina. Seraphina’s brow twitched, she let out a cold scoff, then took Sebastian by the arm and walked away. My assistant was frantic. “Mr. Thorne! You didn’t do anything! Why didn’t you explain?!” “Explain?” I let out a cold laugh. “Does she even deserve an explanation?” The director tormenting Sebastian due to his personal biases wasn’t Sebastian’s fault. But Seraphina, without even asking me a single question, instinctively pushed the blame onto me because of a name on an investor list. This showed that she didn’t truly respect me. Explanations often make some people think you’re trying to curry favor. And I wasn’t about to grovel for someone like her. 7 That very day, I became a trending topic, and not in a good way. A mysterious source leaked Sebastian’s stunt double footage, along with a video of Seraphina publicly confronting me on set. The internet erupted in outrage. 【Who does he think he is?! Don’t extras deserve to live?!】 【Seeing this, my heart aches for stunt actors. Honestly, the third take was probably fine, but the director made him do it a dozen more times. Must have been Thorne’s idea.】 【I’m crying, my hands are shaking! What’s the difference between this and attempted murder?!】 The poster was untraceable, but I knew. It was Seraphina’s tacit approval. Only my wife would dare to post such content without fear of my reprisal. When Seraphina returned home, I was already sitting on the sofa, silent. Half an hour later, she finally broke the silence. “Don’t you have anything to say to me?” “Yes.” Her expression softened slightly. I slid the divorce papers across the table. “Sign it. All joint marital assets will be split equally. The marriage will be annulled, but it won’t affect the ongoing collaborations between our families.” “You want to divorce me?!” I nodded. “Why?” She moved closer to me. “Don’t tell me it’s because of such a trivial matter!” “Precisely because of this trivial matter.”

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Clutching the freshly acquired auction piece, I, Olivia Hayes, a top-tier global operative, was poised for extraction when my world shattered. Across the hall, at another auction, my daughter hung suspended from the dais, her limbs bound by iron chains. The colossal screen behind her blared: “Lot #17: Chloe Hayes – Exclusive Rights.” Her three childhood friends, flanked by a frail-looking girl, closed in, their faces twisted into sneering grins. “What’s wrong, Ms. Hayes? Run out of cash? Why aren’t you bidding?” “Last time, you pushed Tiffany down the stairs over some cheap necklace. Today, it’s your turn to suffer.” The crowd below erupted in jeers, someone maliciously raising the bid. “Take one piece off, I’ll add a million!” “Why not just strip her bare for inspection? What if she’s a fake, hahaha!” “Ms. Hayes, beg me! Beg me, and I’ll buy your night!” Standing on the second floor, my knuckles gleamed white. For years, I’d been on missions, my hands stained with enough blood to fill a river, yet never in my darkest nightmares did I imagine my daughter would be reduced to a commodity, priced and displayed on an auction block. Excellent. They’ve touched my family. I’ll make them understand what it means to wish for death. 1 The auction manager’s breath hitched. “Ms. Hayes, I’ll halt the auction immediately! They will apologize to you!” My gaze, colder than arctic ice, swept over the assembled faces. “Why the rush? Let them keep bidding. The higher the price, the cheaper their lives become.” Not a single one of them would escape. Below, Ethan Miller’s voice cut through the clamor, sharp and cold. “Chloe Hayes, if you apologize to Tiffany, we might just let you off the hook this time.” “Otherwise, we don’t mind letting everyone enjoy a little slideshow.” My daughter, defiant, lifted her head, tears shimmering in her eyes. Ethan watched her pale face, a cruel smirk twisting his lips. “Still clinging to that high horse, even with death staring you down? Don’t blame me for getting rough.” The moment his words died, the massive screen flickered to life. Dozens of photos flashed across the display, each showing Chloe disheveled, her eyes glazed and distant. “Whoa, who knew! Ms. Hayes has quite the figure!” “Tsk, that skin, so fair and tender, I’d die happy on it. Don’t you dare outbid me! Another million!” “Only Mr. Miller is generous enough to share such good stuff with us.” Amidst the torrent of vile words, Chloe’s eyes burned crimson. “When I get out of here, I’ll tear every single one of you apart.” Noah Davis, arm draped around the girl named Tiffany, scoffed. “Please, by the time you get out, you’ll be used goods! And then we’ll ship you off to Europe!” “You pushed Tiffany down the stairs over a necklace – why didn’t you think about a day like this?” Tiffany Vance, nestled between the three men, suddenly began to sob. “No, Noah, you’ve got it all wrong. Last time… last time she didn’t mean to push me. I… I just fell.” At her words, Zane Evans’ brow furrowed. “Chloe, Tiffany just wanted to borrow your necklace, and you shoved her down a flight of stairs.” “Now Tiffany’s forgiving you, begging for your release, and you don’t feel any remorse?” My daughter lifted her gaze, her voice raw. “That was my mother’s necklace! She didn’t deserve to wear it! And I didn’t push her, she… she just…” Before she could finish, Zane’s eyes glinted with cold malice. “Tiffany’s trying to help you, and you’re ungrateful? Don’t blame us for what happens next!” He then raised his paddle, declaring loudly: “Five million!” At his bid, the room buzzed, and other paddles rose, quickly driving the price to ten million. Tiffany dabbed at her tears, her voice a tearful whine: “Please, don’t bid anymore. Sister Chloe can barely afford it. She’s so poor now, how could she buy her own night?” “Sister, maybe you should just give up. It’s just one night with a man, it’s no big deal.” Rage surged through me, a hot torrent. My eyes were locked on Tiffany. She was draped in a designer gown, looking like a newly rich socialite, and around her neck hung the limited-edition necklace I’d given my daughter. Then I looked at Chloe. Her clothes were torn and frayed, her exposed skin chafed and bleeding. Years apart, and my daughter, Olivia Hayes’ daughter, had been so utterly humiliated? I quickly made a call, instructing my assistant to investigate everything that had transpired in my absence. As a top-tier operative, I was rarely home. For security, I’d contacted my daughter monthly via encrypted calls, but she’d always insisted she was fine, never breathing a word of this. The full story, the complete chain of events – I had to uncover it. On the auction platform, my daughter’s voice trembled beyond recognition. “We grew up together! Why are you doing this to me?” “That time you said you were celebrating Tiffany’s birthday, but you just drugged me… was that to take those photos?!” Noah didn’t even spare her a glance, instead busying himself wiping away Tiffany’s tears. “Tiffany spent a month in the hospital because of you, and you didn’t even apologize. This is what you deserve.” “If you’re willing to kneel and kowtow three times to Tiffany, and say you’re sorry, we’ll end this auction.” A chorus of jeers erupted from the crowd. “No way, Mr. Davis! We still want a taste of Ms. Hayes!” “Come on, keep bidding! We have to get her!” “I’ll raise it by two million!” “Fifteen million!” The bids came in quick succession. My daughter trembled uncontrollably, her head bowed in silence. Just as the auctioneer prepared to strike the hammer for the third time, my daughter’s head snapped up. “Twenty million!” The entire hall fell silent. 2 The next moment, a roar of mocking laughter erupted from below. “Don’t pretend, lady! It’s just one night with us, you won’t lose anything, hahaha.” “Twenty million requires a financial verification, you got that kind of cash?” My gaze bore into my daughter, a knot tightening in my chest. Twenty million was a mere pittance to me, but judging by Chloe’s current state, she likely couldn’t produce that much. Sure enough, a few minutes later, the auctioneer emerged from backstage and announced the verification results. “Upon review, Ms. Chloe Hayes’ liquid assets do not meet the bidding deposit requirements.” The laughter intensified. Tiffany giggled softly. “Sister Chloe, don’t push yourself! All I wanted was your apology.” Ethan shot a contemptuous glance at the stage. “Chloe Hayes, don’t bite off more than you can chew. If you can’t pay, stop pretending.” “Before we brought you here, I checked your accounts. You only have fifty thousand left.” Zane’s face was etched with disbelief. “Fifty thousand? We spend more than fifty thousand on one dinner with Tiffany! I can’t believe you’re this broke.” “However, if you truly have no money, I can help you out.” With that, he signaled a waiter. The waiter nodded, stepping onto the stage and positioning himself opposite my daughter. Zane’s icy voice echoed through the hall. “One article of clothing equals five million. If you take off four pieces, you’ll have twenty million.” “How about it? Sounds like a good deal, doesn’t it?” As his words finished, the waiter reached out to tear at my daughter’s clothes. The instant his fingers grazed her skin, Chloe struggled violently. “No!” The crowd below went wild again. “Take it off! Hurry up and take it off!” “Nice! Mr. Evans knows how to have fun!” Chloe looked at her three childhood friends below, terror in her eyes, only to see them shedding their own jackets, scrambling to drape them over Tiffany. My heart plummeted. My daughter’s scream tore through the air, hoarse and desperate. “Get away! Don’t touch me!” But the deafening cheers from the crowd below drowned out her voice, shattering it. The sleeve of Chloe’s dress ripped, exposing a large swathe of her skin. Instantly, slimy, sickening gazes lingered on that bare flesh. The waiter, his face devoid of emotion, stated: “Ms. Hayes, it’s just four pieces of clothing. This way, you’ll have enough money.” Chloe desperately clutched her dress, her lips trembling. I was shaking with fury, about to order the auction halted. But at that moment, my daughter removed the bracelet from her wrist and raised it high. “I have money! I’m still in!” The waiter immediately stepped back. My daughter’s trembling hand offered him the bracelet. As the waiter took the bracelet backstage for verification, a wave of laughter erupted. “She’s a real pigheaded one, still trying to play rich when she’s cornered!” Tiffany covered her mouth, a soft laugh escaping. “Sister Chloe, have you lost your mind? What’s a broken bracelet worth?” Tiffany’s confidence stemmed from the fact that she’d long since stripped my daughter of all her valuables. She was certain that cheap bracelet wouldn’t fetch much. But when the waiter announced the bracelet was worth thirty million… Tiffany’s face abruptly contorted. “How is that possible?!” Even the three men beside her looked incredulous. “A worthless bracelet? How could it be worth that much?” 3 I surveyed the bracelet in the waiter’s hand, understanding dawning on me. That bracelet was my daughter’s one-month birthday gift. I’d paid two hundred million for it back then. Now, it was only fetching thirty million. The auction house owner cautiously knelt at my feet, barely daring to breathe. Below, someone with a keen eye gasped. “This… this can’t be the bracelet once worn by the British Queen, can it? The design isn’t modern, but the price is ridiculously high.” “I remember that bracelet was auctioned at Hayes & Hayes back then, wasn’t it bought by the Hayes family? How is it in this woman’s hand?” “The Hayes family?” Someone drew a sharp intake of breath. “You mean that mercenary dynasty? They operate in both legal and illicit circles, rich beyond measure.” “But the Hayes family hasn’t made a public appearance in over a decade. I never thought I’d hear their name at this auction.” The whispers from the crowd reached Tiffany’s ears. She suddenly dropped to her knees, burying her face in her hands, sobbing. “All I wanted was an apology from you, Sister! Why do you have to deliberately make things hard for me?” “Ever since Dad recognized me as his adopted daughter, you’ve always hated me, always bullied me. Sister, do you really dislike me that much?” My heart clenched. Adopted daughter? At that moment, my assistant’s call came through, relaying everything that had happened over the past few years. Turns out, Tiffany was the daughter of an escort. Her mother had hooked up with my husband, Robert Hayes. Robert then brought the escort to live in our home and even recognized her daughter as his adopted daughter. Ah, good. While I was away these past few years, Robert had been busy with such despicable affairs. Robert Hayes, Tiffany, and her mother – I wouldn’t spare a single one of them. Ethan gently lifted Tiffany into his arms. Noah soothed her, wiping away her tears. Zane clenched his jaw, furious. “Chloe Hayes, do you really want to drive Tiffany to her death?!” “Do you honestly think we don’t know how much she’s suffered since moving into your family’s home?” Noah’s face was grim, his eyes burning as if they could tear a person apart. “Chloe Hayes, we originally planned to go easy on you, but it seems unnecessary now.” He stood up and yelled to the large crowd of bidders behind him. “Anyone who bids on Chloe Hayes’ exclusive rights tonight will receive a 5% profit share on future collaborations with the Davis Group!” Ethan and Zane chimed in. “The Miller Corporation and Evans Holdings, too!” A sudden burst of excited shouts erupted from the crowd. “The three young masters are truly generous!” “I’ll offer another three million.” “Forty million!” Within seconds, the bidding had skyrocketed to fifty million. Tiffany smiled silently, her face radiating triumph. My daughter’s face grew whiter by the inch. She couldn’t possibly produce that kind of money. Once these people got their hands on her, they would undoubtedly torture her relentlessly. Convinced they would win, the bidders began to openly humiliate my daughter. “Little lady, once you’re mine, I’ll show you exactly what paradise feels like!” Someone threw a wad of cash at the waiter’s chest. “Tear off her clothes! These bills are yours!” Simultaneously, the auctioneer’s booming voice echoed through the hall. “Fifty million, going once.” “Fifty million, going twice.” Amidst his pronouncements, my daughter suddenly looked up, her eyes blazing with fierce resolve. “I’m still in. Eighty million!” The entire hall erupted in chaos. “Is she crazy?! How can she conjure up money while hanging there?!” “Hahaha, she even mortgaged her bracelet! Where would she get the money?” Tiffany, nestled in Ethan’s embrace, feigned a sigh. “Sister, don’t struggle. Where would you get eighty million…” Amidst wave after wave of mocking laughter, my daughter handed a black card to the waiter. The entire hall held its breath as the card reader beeped, processing the data. A moment later, the waiter’s voice rang out loudly. “Ms. Chloe Hayes’ account balance: two hundred million nine hundred thousand dollars. She is qualified to bid!”

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I was home for the holidays, driving my American-made SUV to a blind date. My date, Isabelle Jones, and her best friend, Sophia, were already there when I pulled up to the restaurant. They were draped in designer labels, dressed to the nines. Seeing my simple clothes, Sophia immediately curled her lip in disdain. “Izzy, your date looks like he just walked off a construction site.” “Look at his cheap suit, probably doesn’t have two nickels to rub together.” Izzy, far from stopping her friend, just sneered. “Tell me about it. In this day and age, who drives an American car? It’s embarrassing.” I didn’t react, just offered a slight smile. My voice was even. “Ladies, ever heard of ‘The Sentinel’?” 1 Had they not been so rude, I wouldn’t have bothered with them. I’d just come home for a rare visit, and my mom, Mrs. Albright, insisted I go on this blind date. She’d said the girl came from a good family and was beautiful. I sized up the woman across from me. Beautiful, yes. But clearly, she wasn’t impressed with me. “It’s just a domestic car; why give it some fancy name? Trying to sound cultured?” Sophia scoffed. “Look at you, so broke you probably can’t even afford this meal. I don’t know why your mom even let you come to a blind date.” “Just get out of my sight. I’m not interested.” I almost thought I misheard her. I’d just sat down, and she was already telling me to leave? They were making a fool of me! I’d driven all this way, hadn’t even had a sip of water, and was already being insulted repeatedly. My patience evaporated. “You must be Isabelle Jones, the blind date Mrs. Albright set me up with, right?” “I haven’t even introduced myself, and you’re already writing me off, telling me to leave.” “Are you two, by any chance, running a scam?” The moment I spoke, Izzy’s face darkened. Her expression strongly suggested I’d hit a nerve. Her eyes darted around, her words stumbling. “A… a scam? I have no idea what you’re talking about.” “Blind dates are a mutual agreement. It’s perfectly normal for me not to be interested when you’re so poor.” “Did you think just because you came to meet me, I’m obligated to be with you? Take a good look in the mirror, buddy.” The more she spoke, the more agitated she became, almost spitting on me. I couldn’t believe this was the “sweet-natured and gentle” woman my mom had described. “Alright, alright, I’m a pauper, and you’re a princess. Happy now?” “Then could the princess please return the envelope my mother gave you?” “My mom specifically told me before I left that if the date didn’t work out, I had to get the money back.” Truth be told, my mom hadn’t said any such thing. I just couldn’t stand them. As soon as I finished, Sophia immediately stepped forward. “Ethan Stone, right? I’ve seen your profile. You’ve been out of town since high school, and there’s no record of what you actually do.” “We’ve been sitting here waiting for you all this time, why wouldn’t we keep this fee?” “You’ve seen us, you’ve had your drink. Now you want the money back? You’re dreaming.” Hearing Sophia, I was stunned. Was this some kind of model friend? So openly demanding money. Were they here to make a quick buck, or for a blind date? My mom had painstakingly saved up fifteen hundred dollars, and after just meeting them, without even having a proper conversation, it was gone? “So, by your logic, you two are making a lot more than most working girls.” The words were barely out of my mouth before Izzy and Sophia exploded in rage. “Ethan Stone! What is that supposed to mean? Are you calling us prostitutes?!” I just curved my lips into a slight smile. My silence said everything. Seeing me not speak for a long moment, Izzy and Sophia grew desperate. “Ethan Stone! I’m telling you, if you don’t apologize to us right now, I guarantee you won’t be walking out that door!” “Exactly! A poor bumpkin like you, trying to hit above your weight class? Take a look at yourself!” “The money is rightfully ours! We’re not giving it back. If you know what’s good for you, get lost.” I couldn’t help but laugh out loud at their words. “You keep calling me a pauper, but why don’t you hand over the money then?” “I should take back what I said earlier. Given your behavior, you two are probably worse than even those who hustle for a living.” “At least they put in the effort. You two, on the other hand, are just outright robbing people, aren’t you?!” Then, I casually ticked off my fingers. One blind date, and you pocketed fifteen hundred bucks just for showing up. For those naive enough, you might even get a free meal. This was quite the business. Quicker than hitting a jackpot. Izzy and Sophia were rendered speechless, frozen in place. As the old saying goes, it takes a scoundrel to handle scoundrels. And today, I’d be that scoundrel. 2 “You can’t out-argue me, and you don’t dare lay a hand on me. I suggest you just return the money.” “Two young ladies, why not do something worthwhile instead of trying to scam people? Are you doing your parents proud?” “I have things to do. Hand over the money now, or I’ll call the police.” At the mention of the police, Izzy and Sophia instantly panicked. “No, please, don’t call the police! Your money isn’t with us.” “What?!” “Then where is my money?” I remembered clearly watching my mom hand the envelope to them. “The money… it went up the chain.” Izzy was visibly intimidated by my presence, meek and subservient. Just as I’d suspected, my mom had indeed been swindled. What kind of blind date required a fifteen-hundred-dollar introductory fee? It was clearly a setup to fleece people. Yet, my mom, bless her heart, had actually believed them. “Who did you give the money to?” I narrowed my eyes, my voice devoid of emotion. “To Rex.” Rex? Who the hell was that? But from the name, it sounded like some kind of gangster. “Is this ‘Rex’ you speak of your boss?” Izzy nodded, her eyes filled with reverence. “Yes, Rex is Detroit’s top organized crime boss. We’re just peripheral members, trying to make a living under him.” I almost choked on my water hearing Izzy. “In this day and age, someone still dares to call himself a mob boss? Is he out of his mind?” My comment seemed to push Izzy’s buttons. “Don’t you dare insult Rex! He’s my idol!” Huh? I thought my ears were failing me again. Were young people’s values really this twisted now? Taking a gang leader as an idol. Probably watched too many mob flicks as kids. “Alright, since my money is with this ‘Rex,’ I’ll let you two off for now.” Izzy and Sophia were about to slip away when I abruptly changed my tone, adding, “Call your boss. Tell him to bring my money over here.” “That’s my mom’s hard-earned money. I’m getting it back today.” The moment my words registered, they both froze in shock. “Are you out of your mind?!” Izzy stared at me, wide-eyed. “You want to demand money from Rex? You’re trying to get yourself killed!” “He’s a big shot with connections that run deeper than anyone. He could crush you with a single finger.” I stretched, a slow, deliberate movement. “Who Rex is, has nothing to do with me.” “Right now, I just want my mom’s money back. Understand?” Sophia also stepped forward. “Ethan Stone, I advise you to drop this. If you cross Rex, not even the police can save you.” “In all of Detroit, I’ve never seen anyone get money back from Rex.” I waved my hand dismissively, pulling out my encrypted satellite phone and handing it to them. “Stop dragging your feet. Call him now.” 3 Izzy and Sophia exchanged glances, then tremblingly took the phone. “You’re making us call him. If anything happens to you later, it’s not our fault.” I nodded. Izzy cautiously dialed the number. The moment the call connected, I snatched the phone. “Hello, you must be Rex.” “I hear your people took fifteen hundred dollars from me.” “You have twenty minutes to get to this restaurant. One second late, and you’ll regret it.” Without waiting for a reply, I hung up. My actions left Izzy’s mouth agape. “You… you actually dared to speak to Rex like that? You’re practically asking to die!” “If Rex really shows up, you won’t even have time to regret it.” I casually settled onto the sofa, peeling an orange as if nothing were happening. “Good, I was afraid he wouldn’t show up.” I’d been stationed with my unit for years, rarely coming home. If I hadn’t earned a Silver Star in the All-Forces Combat Trials, my General wouldn’t have personally granted me leave to visit family. I’d probably still be in training right now. “Ethan Stone, when Rex gets here, don’t you dare tell him we called him.” “Rex has a short fuse. If you upset him, all three of us are screwed.” Just the mention of Rex made Izzy’s attitude do a complete 180. It reminded me of when I first met her. It seemed people really shouldn’t be too low-key. Being low-key just made you an easy target. If they hadn’t run into me today, who knew how many more people would have fallen victim to their scam? The thought fueled my sense of justice. When I left the unit, the General had repeatedly warned me not to get into conflicts with civilians. But I believed that a true soldier steps in when they see injustice. I was sure my superiors would understand. Time ticked by. With less than fifteen seconds left on the clock, Rex finally arrived. A dozen brand-new Rolls-Royce Ghosts pulled up, parking perfectly in front of the restaurant. A bald, middle-aged man led the way inside, followed by a throng of black-suited bodyguards. From a distance, it was quite intimidating. Before I could speak, Izzy and Sophia rushed forward. “Rex, this is the guy who called you just now!” “He even said he’d trash your restaurant if you didn’t show up!” “Sophia and I are just girls, we couldn’t stop him, so we had no choice but to call you for help!” It truly took a wicked woman to spin a tale like that. Izzy’s skill at embellishment was truly masterful. But it didn’t matter. Even if she talked until her throat was raw, I was getting that money back today. Rex glanced at me from the corner of his eye, then swaggered over. “You’re Ethan Stone?” I didn’t even raise my head, just gave a slight nod. “That’s right, that’s me.” “I hear my people said you threatened to trash my place?” I looked at my blind date, who was now preening behind Rex, and my lips curled up unconsciously. “While those words weren’t mine, I can tell you… that’s precisely what I had in mind.” “You’ve got a lot of nerve!” The moment I finished, the line of black-suited bodyguards behind Rex instantly surrounded me. I quickly calculated: I could probably take them all out in three minutes. Unfortunately, due to my special status, I couldn’t directly engage. Rex, thinking I was intimidated, looked at me with an arrogant smirk. “What? You were so brave on the phone, weren’t you?” “Now you’re too scared to even utter a word?” 4 I poured myself a cup of tea, took a sip, and cleared my throat. “You’re Rex, right? Your people took fifteen hundred dollars from me. When do you plan on returning it?” As I spoke, the men behind Rex burst into raucous laughter. “Kid, you must have a death wish, trying to shake down our Boss Rex!” “You haven’t done your homework, have you? In all of Detroit, who dares to talk to Rex like that?” “I suggest you get down on your knees and apologize to Rex, unless you want to get roughed up.” I raised an eyebrow slightly. “Oh? What if I insist on having that money back?” Even Rex probably hadn’t expected me to challenge him so openly in front of so many people. His face slowly twisted into a sneer. “Alright! I like people who are stubborn like you.” “You want your money? Fine, you can have it.” “But whether you live to collect it, that’s up to you.” With that, he waved his hand, and his men surged towards me. But they threw a dozen punches, yet couldn’t even graze my clothes. I moved effortlessly among them, occasionally offering a mocking comment. Rex stood on the sidelines, his face livid with rage. “What good are you people?! You can’t even lay a hand on one guy?! Get him! Finish him!” But no matter how he shouted, his subordinates couldn’t touch me. Just then, Izzy, thinking herself clever, stepped forward. She pointed at the Sentinel parked outside, a malicious smirk on her face. “Rex, did you see that domestic car at the entrance? That’s what Ethan Stone drove.” “He likes to dodge, doesn’t he? Why don’t we just smash his car instead?” Rex’s eyes immediately lit up. “Everyone, stop trying to grab him! Follow me! We’re smashing his car!” At his command, everyone rushed towards the parking lot. Each man grabbed a crowbar, and they began to savagely assault my SUV. They smashed it for a good fifteen minutes, but it only suffered minor paint damage; the body itself was perfectly fine. “Damn it! Fine, I can’t catch the guy, but why is smashing a car so damn difficult?!” “Boss, this car is too tough! We’ve been hitting it forever, and it’s not reacting!” I stood with my hands in my pockets, shouting at them. “Hey, are you guys even trying? You’ve been at it for ages, and it’s still not broken!” My taunt instantly ignited Rex’s fury. He snatched a crowbar from one of his men and swung it fiercely a few times. There was a loud clang, and the crowbar flew ten feet away. Rex clutched his hands, his face contorted in pain. “Goddammit! How is this car so tough?!” I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Rex, my car isn’t just tough. It’s also bulletproof.” With that, I pulled out my military-grade satellite phone and dialed a secure number. “General, your car just got trashed.” “What did you say?!” A roar erupted from the other end of the line. I briefly explained the situation, the chain of events. Even through the phone, I could feel the General’s fury. “Specialist Stone, report your position immediately!” He barked the order directly into the phone. I hung up and leisurely walked over to Rex, patting his shoulder lightly. “Rex, I think it’s necessary to inform you. That car you just smashed, its name is ‘The Sentinel’.” But to my surprise, Rex didn’t back down; he became even more arrogant. “I don’t give a damn what it’s called! I’m going to smash it to pieces today!” Just then, Izzy screamed. “Look!” Everyone turned their heads. A dozen military Hummers, bearing distinctive red markings, were steadily approaching.

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1 At my birthday gala, Lucian suddenly ushered in a young woman, introducing her as an inexperienced intern. She “clumsily” spilled my cake, then “thoughtlessly” adorned herself with my necklace. Yet, Lucian’s only retort was always, “She’s still so young.” It wasn’t until she “naively” climbed into Lucian’s bed, then “innocently” knelt before me, heavily pregnant, saying, “Mrs. Thorne, Mr. Thorne said if you couldn’t give him a child, I would…” I finally gave Lucian two icy choices: “Either she ends the pregnancy, or we end our marriage.” Lucian, his face etched with guilt, explained, “Grandfather Thorne decreed that only a woman who bears an heir can be the Mrs. Thorne. But your uterus is damaged. Skylar’s child… will be formally adopted by you. Eleanor, I only love you too much!” Later, when Lucian joyfully brought their son home to the Thorne estate, he was still trying to reason with me: “Just be understanding, Grandfather Thorne only wants to see them. It won’t affect your standing.” I nodded, obliging, not a tear or protest. The moment he left, I dialed his rival’s number. “I accept your offer. Being a mother to someone else’s child, it’s all the same, isn’t it?” When Lucian walked in, cradling the infant, Skylar and Grandfather Thorne followed close behind. The baby was tiny, swaddled in a blanket embroidered with gold thread. Lucian looked down at the child in his arms, his gaze so tender it stung. “Eleanor.” He looked up, his tone flat, as if announcing something utterly inconsequential, “The baby will live here from now on.” My heart twisted with bitterness, but words failed me. Just three months prior, he had knelt before me, pleading with me not to divorce him, explicitly promising that once Skylar gave birth, she would be transferred to a branch office, never to interfere with our lives. Yet now, he had brazenly brought the mother and child into our marital home. A fragile belief, already teetering on the brink, finally shattered within me. Skylar stood behind Grandfather Thorne, watching me with feigned timidity. For a mother, she was still just as “naive,” unable to even offer a greeting. Finding it tiresome, I turned to go upstairs. She called out, her voice laced with a sob, “Sister, I know you hate me, but the baby is innocent… please, be kind to him in the future.” Lucian frowned, stepping in front of her, his tone tinged with reproach: “Eleanor, don’t frighten Skylar.” I scoffed. How was it that merely standing there made me the villain? Grandfather Thorne hobbled over, tapping the baby’s cheek, his smile indulgent: “This child looks just like Lucian did as a boy. Clearly a Thorne, through and through.” When he turned to me, his eyes turned cold: “You can’t bear a child. We can’t just let the Thorne line end, can we?” I lowered my gaze, my nails digging savagely into my palms, the pain a dull throb. Lucian finally looked at me, his voice softening slightly: “Eleanor, the baby needs breast milk. Once he’s weaned… I’ll arrange for Skylar to move out!” I suddenly felt like laughing. This was his own promise, yet now he delivered it with the tone of a patron? I was about to say it wasn’t necessary, when Skylar interrupted, “Mr. Thorne, quick, look! The baby seems hungry…” Lucian immediately turned, skillfully supporting the baby’s head as he murmured soothing words. I stood there, feeling utterly like an outsider. … Late that night, Lucian finally returned to our room. He carried the faint scent of baby milk and Skylar’s perfume. As the mattress dipped, I turned my back to him. His hand settled on my waist. “Eleanor, don’t be stubborn.” I didn’t move. He sighed, then spoke, seemingly to himself: “Grandfather is old; he just wants a great-grandson… we already agreed, didn’t we? Once the baby is a little older, he’ll be legally adopted by you. You’ll still be Mrs. Thorne!” I opened my eyes, staring at a point in the darkness, and asked softly, “Lucian, do you remember why I can’t have children?” His breath hitched. Three years ago, during that car crash, I lunged to shield him from a fatal blow. When the doctors said I might never conceive again, he swore, his eyes red-rimmed: “Eleanor, all I need is you.” Now, he had secretly gotten another woman pregnant, then used the pretense of adoption to ensure her smooth delivery, and finally… brought the child into our home. All under the guise of wanting to give me a child. … The next morning, Skylar was already seated in my designated chair at the dining table, holding the baby. Lucian sat beside her, gently coaxing the infant, his expression soft. Grandfather Thorne chuckled, saying, “This child is so well-behaved, truly blessed.” Skylar shyly lowered her gaze: “Grandfather, the baby cried all night. Mr. Thorne only managed to get him to sleep past midnight…” Lucian smiled, reaching out to ruffle her hair. So this was the picture of a happy, harmonious family of three. I turned to head upstairs, but Grandfather Thorne’s voice, brooking no argument, stopped me: “From today, Skylar and the baby will reside in the master suite.” I froze. No matter how many, or how spacious, the rooms in the mansion, there was only one master suite. Lucian abruptly stood up: “Grandfather!” But Grandfather Thorne sharply rapped his cane: “What? You’d inconvenience my great-grandson for a woman who can’t lay an egg?” Lucian fell silent. Skylar stood behind Grandfather Thorne, cradling the baby, a subtle smirk playing on her lips. Too weary to argue, I turned back to the room, mechanically packing my belongings. Lucian suddenly entered, grabbing my hand. “Eleanor! Don’t do this…” I looked up at him, my eyes utterly devoid of emotion. “Lucian,” I said softly, “If I don’t leave, are we four supposed to squeeze into one bed?” 2 His face faltered slightly. He said nothing, but his grip on my hand loosened. The answer was glaringly obvious. As I carried my suitcase downstairs, Skylar stood in the living room, holding the baby. With a facade of apology, she suggested, “Sister, the guest room is so spacious and comfortable. There’s no need to move out!” She clearly wanted to witness the drama of a wife being demoted to a concubine, but I had no intention of indulging her. “No need. I wish you,” I glanced at the baby in her arms, my voice laced with hidden meaning, “and the Thorne family’s flesh and blood, a long and prosperous life.” I deliberately emphasized “flesh and blood,” watching her feigned smile freeze for a fraction of a second. She was, of course, nowhere near as simple-minded as Lucian claimed. At least in front of me, adjusting her expression was a matter of milliseconds. “Sister, don’t say that. Mr. Thorne still cares about you most deeply…” Before she could finish, I was already at the door. It was a perfect storm; my marriage had ruptured, and the deluge arrived right on cue. I stood there, watching the pouring rain, for a long while. Lucian didn’t come after me. The water streaming down my cheeks—I couldn’t tell if it was rain or tears. My phone suddenly lit up. Lucian, from behind the closed door, sent me a message: [Eleanor, you’re not as understanding as you used to be. Go stay in the executive apartment provided by the company for now. Once you’ve calmed down, I’ll come get you.] I let out a hollow laugh. I calmly stepped into the rain, hailed a cab, and left. Perhaps because I had already made my plans, Lucian’s full immersion into fatherhood didn’t stir much emotion in me anymore. After two days of silence, I returned to the mansion to retrieve the last of my belongings. Skylar sat in the living room, draped in my silk robe. “Sister, you’re back?” She gently patted the baby in her arms, parading him like a prized possession. I headed straight upstairs, unwilling to exchange another word with her. But the moment I pushed open the master bedroom door, my composure shattered. The sheets had been changed to her preferred taupe, and my vanity was laden with skincare products that weren’t mine. The gowns I’d worn to countless meetings and events with him… were haphazardly stuffed into a corner of the closet. In their place hung Skylar’s dresses. Even the wedding photo above the bed had been replaced with their family portrait—Lucian cradling the baby, the woman nestled against his shoulder, her smile dazzling and sickeningly happy. I bit down hard on my lower lip, gasping for breath to keep the stinging tears at bay. It was then I realized that saying goodbye to a relationship didn’t always require a dramatic breakdown. Once calm, I entered the private vault and retrieved my mother’s urn. As I descended the stairs, I heard Skylar on the phone. “Mr. Thorne, the baby misses you…” Her voice was sickeningly sweet. “Yes, Eleanor came back for her things. The baby and I will get along just fine with her…” I scoffed. Three days living here, and she already acted more like the lady of the house than I, his wife of three years, ever did. No wonder she’d usurped me. As I walked out, Skylar suddenly called my name: “Sister!” She scurried over, pushing the baby in her arms towards me. Her smile was feigned innocence. “Do you want to hold the baby? Get a head start on feeling like a mother…” Though the infant was innocent, the stain on my marriage turned my stomach. “No, thanks.” I turned and walked away. Behind me, she inexplicably stumbled, shrieking as she fell backward— “Ah!” I instinctively spun around, reaching out to catch her. But she deliberately swung her shoulder, knocking the urn from my grasp. The ceramic urn shattered on the marble floor with a sickening crash, splitting into two halves, grey-white ashes scattering across the tiles. I froze, then heard a furious roar from behind me: “Eleanor! What are you doing?!” Lucian stormed in, roughly shoving me aside. He anxiously helped Skylar up. “Are you alright?” Skylar, her eyes red-rimmed, shook her head: “I’m fine… thankfully, I protected the baby. Mr. Thorne, it’s true I’m an intruder, so Sister Eleanor pushing me to vent her anger is understandable…” Lucian turned to me, his gaze complex: “An intruder? Eleanor, how many times have I told you, it was my idea to have Skylar move in…” I stared blankly at my mother’s ashes, spread across the floor. I knelt, my eyes burning red. “Momma…” But he, mistaking my grief for an excuse for pushing Skylar, irritably loosened his tie: “Every time we argue, you cry and call for your mother. Have you ever considered that your mother, in heaven, would want you to be a proper lady of the house?” Skylar, feigning concern, edged closer: “Sister, I’m so sorry. I broke the baby formula you bought for the baby. How much do I owe you…?” “No need!” Lucian cut her off, glaring coldly at me. “How dare she use anything she bought for the baby? As for you, Skylar, did she do anything to you while I was away?” Watching him dote so carefully on Skylar, I suddenly felt overwhelmingly weary. There was no longer any point in explaining. “Lucian,” I said softly, “Let’s get a divorce.” 3 His face instantly contorted. “What nonsense are you spouting now?!” I produced the divorce papers I’d already prepared and placed them on the coffee table. “Sign them,” I said. “You made your choice a long time ago.” He seized my wrist. “I told you! Skylar and I aren’t what you think! You’re the one I love!” His desperation was suddenly pathetic. “Then make her move out,” I said, enunciating each word. “Immediately. Now.” He froze. Skylar’s timely sob broke the silence: “Mr. Thorne, don’t argue with Sister Eleanor… the baby was just startled and spit up…” Lucian released my hand. “Eleanor! You can be angry with me, but you shouldn’t push a woman holding a baby!” His reprimand was a blunt blade, cruelly severing my last thread of hope. I watched him turn and hurry toward Skylar. I finally had to admit that in Lucian’s heart, I would always come second to that mother and child. Standing on the roadside, I suddenly remembered our wedding day, and Lucian’s vows before the minister: “To love only you, for the rest of my life.” Thinking about it now, his ‘rest of his life’ was remarkably brief. My phone vibrated. It was a message from Lucian: [Just stop being difficult, and you’ll always be Mrs. Thorne.] I smiled faintly and blocked all his contacts. Always? From the moment he secretly got Skylar pregnant, there was no ‘always’ for us. 4 Before leaving Bayview City, I went to the company to complete my resignation handover. As I looked at the company Lucian and I had built from the ground up, a tide of reluctance surged within me. But I knew, there was no place for me here anymore. The glass wall still displayed “Never Give Up,” a motto we’d written together. In the break room, the old coffee maker from our startup days still sat there. But now, his world held things far more important. That child, that woman, that so-called “family.” Ms. Davis, her eyes red-rimmed, helped me clear out my office. “Ms. Sterling, Mr. Thorne certainly wants you to enjoy a life of leisure at home, but if you’re truly leaving, I’ll miss you terribly… Does Mr. Thorne know about your resignation?” Her final question was a probe. She also knew that ever since Lucian had an intern assistant, the Thorne household had been in turmoil. “Of course, it’s all been made clear.” I tucked the last file into a box. The moment I stood up, my vision suddenly swam. I instinctively clutched the desk. Ms. Davis gasped, “Ms. Sterling, you look terrible!” … Hospital lights are always so unsettling. The moment I opened my eyes, Ms. Davis leaned in, her face alight with barely contained joy: “Ms. Sterling, you’re pregnant! Six weeks along!” I froze, my fingers unconsciously tracing my lower abdomen. A child… here? A child who arrived so suddenly, just as I decided to leave… Ms. Davis continued to chatter excitedly, but her words were a dull buzz in my ears. Did Lucian know? Would he, for this child… My phone suddenly vibrated, Lucian’s name flashing on the screen. I answered with a trembling hand, and before I could speak, his enraged roar ripped through the phone: “Eleanor! Why would you do something like this?!” I froze. “What?” “Skylar found a doll under the baby’s crib!” His voice was glacial. “It had pins stuck in it and the baby’s birth date written on it!” I let out a humorless laugh. So that was it. He hadn’t called to check on me after I collapsed; he had called to accuse me. “Lucian,” I said calmly, “Do you remember what today is?” Silence hung on the other end for a beat. “Three years ago today, you were in that car crash. I lunged to shield you.” My voice was barely a whisper. “The doctors said I might never be able to conceive again. But now, I’m…” The sound of something shattering on the other end drowned out the word “pregnant” that left my lips. On his end, Lucian rushed to comfort someone nearby. “There, there, don’t cry. I’ll make this right for you and the baby.” Only then did he ask, “What did you just say? I didn’t hear you!” I suddenly felt there was no point in saying anything more. I hung up. “Ms. Davis,” I said softly, “Don’t tell anyone about my pregnancy yet.” She looked at me, stunned. “But Mr. Thorne…” “Especially not Lucian.” I stroked my flat stomach, and finally, tears fell. “This child… has nothing to do with him anymore.” … The sunset outside the window bled red, like spilled blood. It was like Lucian, three years ago, holding my blood-soaked body, crying out, “Eleanor, it’s okay if we don’t have children. But I can’t lose you!” Now, he had pushed both the child and me away. 5 The moment I managed to push myself up into a sitting position, the hospital room door burst open. Grandfather Thorne hobbled in, leaning on his ebony cane, two bodyguards flanking him. “Eleanor Sterling!” The cane slammed heavily against my bed rail. “You viper! Now the baby is in the ICU, are you satisfied?” I couldn’t stop a bitter laugh from escaping. When Lucian and I had struggled to build the company, he used to affectionately call me “Granddaughter-in-law.” Now that someone else had borne him a great-grandson, I was a viper. My voice was hoarse. “If the baby is in the ICU, perhaps you should be waiting by the operating room door.” Enraged, the old man swung his cane, striking hard against the back of my hand where the IV drip was inserted. The needle was ripped out. Beads of blood welled up and rolled down the back of my hand. “Still feigning innocence!” he raged. “I consulted a spiritual master! It was that cursed doll of yours! Now the baby’s lungs are filled with blood, you—” He choked on his words, nearly collapsing. The bodyguards immediately steadied him. I looked at the raving old man and felt only sorrow. He didn’t know that the child in my womb was his only great-grandchild. I looked at him, incredulous: “You think I would curse an infant?” Lucian stood just behind Grandfather Thorne, but he made no move to speak. “Stop making excuses!” Grandfather Thorne gasped, straightening up. “The master said this is a ‘matriarchal curse.’ To break it, the matriarch who cast it must have her head shaved clean.” He didn’t give me time to process the absurd demand, instead gesturing to the bodyguards, “Hold her down.” I was so weak; did they even need to hold me? Yet I still looked at the figure behind him, suddenly desperate to know: who would Lucian choose this time? As the bodyguard produced the scissors, Lucian finally moved— He took a step back. That single step brought tears of laughter to my eyes. He averted his gaze, his voice trembling: “Eleanor, just for the sake of the baby…” My heart turned to ice. As the razor touched my scalp, I smiled. “Do you remember three years ago, when I had to shave my head after my injury?” The blade already sliced through the first strand of hair. Black strands floated silently onto the stark white sheets. “Back then, I thought I was ugly, hiding in my room for three months, refusing to see you. You stood outside my door for three months, speaking through it every day—” Lucian’s body suddenly convulsed. “—saying that once my hair grew back, you’d comb it for me every day, buy me the best hair oil, and promise I’d never grow a single grey strand.” Memories flooded back like a tide—how could we not have been in love? Back then, he’d bring me different hair growth recipes every day, nurturing my hair with endless care. And now… for a baseless accusation, they were simply shaving it all away… Lucian suddenly lunged forward, grabbing the bodyguard’s hand, his voice raw: “Stop!” But it was too late. Amidst the grief, warm liquid began to stream down my thighs. I looked down and saw beads of blood hitting the floor, one by agonizing one. Lucian’s gaze followed mine, and his face instantly turned ashen: “Eleanor?!” He trembled as he pulled back the blanket, his whole body swaying the moment he saw the blood. “This is…”

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