Author: Momo Chan

I worked my fingers to the bone leading my design team to land a multi-million-dollar co-branding deal for my husband’s company. But at the victory party, my husband credited the entire success to a newly hired intern. He claimed her “fresh perspective” was the magic touch that saved the project. As a reward, he publicly gifted her a rare, limited-edition Bearbrick set worth a hundred thousand dollars. My team was devastated on my behalf. When I confronted him in private, he just pushed me away. He tossed a crumpled ten-dollar bill at my face and smirked. “At your age, Vivian, you’d look better carrying a cheap replica from the dollar store anyway.” That was the exact moment I woke up. The very next morning, I resigned, taking my entire design department with me. My husband put his arm around the intern and sneered at us. “Quit if you want. You think you’re so special? Let’s see who else will hire you!” Three months later, at the industry’s biggest brand bidding event of the year. My ex-husband walked onto the stage with his intern, holding the pitch deck my team had created, confidently babbling about his grand vision for the brand. What he didn’t know was that I had already been headhunted by the top-tier firm hosting the event, offered a massive salary package. And I was the sole decision-maker for this multi-million-dollar contract. 1. “Vivian, don’t say I didn’t warn you. Once a woman loses her youth, she shouldn’t get jealous of a younger girl’s opportunities.” With that, Carter turned on his heel and walked away, leaving me with nothing but his arrogant back. I looked down at the crumpled ten-dollar bill in my hand. So, the blood, sweat, and tears of my team and me were only worth a dollar-store plastic toy in his eyes. I laughed, but the tears wouldn’t stop falling. I wiped my face, took a deep breath, and walked back to the banquet table. My assistant, Jack, looked at me with deep worry in his eyes. “Vivian, are you okay?” I slammed the ten-dollar bill onto the table. My voice wasn’t loud, but it was deadly calm. “Jack, get everyone ready.” “Tomorrow, we all quit.” The next morning at nine o’clock. I walked into Carter’s office, carrying the resignation letters of every single member of the design department. He was currently wrapping his arm around Chloe. The two of them were leaning in close, staring at his laptop screen and giggling. Seeing us walk in, Carter wasn’t surprised at all. He took the stack of resignation letters and tossed them onto his desk without even looking. “Vivian, you’re really going through with this little tantrum?” He let out a patronizing laugh, pulling Chloe even closer to his side. “You have no real talent, yet you want to play the career-woman card? I’d love to see where you can go without my platform!” Chloe leaned against his chest, casting a timid look at me before letting a smug, triumphant smile slip across her face. Carter stood up and announced loudly to the remaining office staff. “Actually, since we’re here, I have an announcement to make.” “Starting today, Chloe Bennett is the new Creative Director of this company.” A collective gasp went through the office. An intern who had only been here for three months, who didn’t even know how to use professional design software properly, was suddenly the Creative Director. It was the biggest joke in the industry. The members of my team exchanged looks of sheer disbelief and disgust. Without another word, I turned and led my team out. As we walked out of the building, I looked back at the company I had poured eight years of my life into. I felt nothing but intense nausea. That afternoon, I consulted a lawyer. The answers I got felt like a bucket of ice water poured over my head. Carter was the sole legal owner of the company from day one. I held absolutely zero shares in my name. When we got married, he had promised me that the company belonged to both of us, and that he would transfer half of the shares to me once things took off. Because of his sweet words, I had resigned from my high-paying job at a Fortune 500 tech giant to work day and night to build his dream. Now I realized all his promises were nothing but empty lies. My eight years of dedication were worth absolutely nothing on paper. I sat in a coffee shop, staring blankly out the window, feeling utterly hopeless. Just then, my phone rang. It was an unknown number. “Hello, is this Vivian Knight, the Creative Director?” “Yes, speaking.” “Hi Vivian, I’m Sarah Jenkins, the Project Director for the brand collaboration. I wanted to coordinate with you on the detailed design guidelines for the launch.” It was the client. I took a deep breath, forcing my voice to sound as calm as possible. “Sarah, I’m so sorry, but I have officially resigned from that company.” There was a long silence on the other end of the line. “Resigned? Did your entire team leave too?” “Yes, we did.” Suddenly, Sarah’s voice turned incredibly excited. “Oh, thank god! Vivian, to be completely honest with you, we signed this deal because of your team, not Carter’s company!” I froze. “We did an internal review, and your design concept aligns perfectly with our brand’s future direction. Honestly, we were terrified they would swap you out for someone else and ruin the project quality.” “Now that you’re independent, this makes things so much easier.” Her words were like a ray of sunlight piercing through my darkest hour. “Vivian, on behalf of my company, I want to officially invite you and your entire team to join us.” “We will double your current salaries.” “We are creating a brand-new core brand management division, and you will lead it as the Executive Director.” “We want you to bring your entire team over to us.” 2. Double the salary. A core executive role. Taking my entire team with me. I pressed my fingernails hard into my palm, trying to keep my heart from leaping out of my chest. “Sarah, thank you so much for the offer. We just finished our exit process, so we still have some paperwork to sort through.” “No problem at all. We can wait. Elite talent is always worth waiting for.” “I’ll email you the official letter of intent. Take your time looking it over. No rush to reply.” After hanging up, I looked at the sky outside. For the first time in years, it looked beautiful. My phone buzzed again. It was a Snapchat message from Carter. “Vivian, I know you’re still angry. Stop being childish. Does our eight-year relationship really mean less to you than a temporary ego trip?” “Okay, I admit I shouldn’t have said those things to you.” “Just come back. Help Chloe settle into her role and hand over the remaining project files. Once this busy season is over, I’ll plan a lavish public apology for you, okay?” Staring at the screen, my stomach churned with disgust. *Help Chloe settle into her role.* How could he even say that? I shut off my phone, completely ignoring the message. The game had just begun. I used my own savings to throw a massive “Independence Party” for my team at the best five-star hotel in the city. We were celebrating our freedom from that toxic environment and welcoming our new lives. Everyone raised their glasses, their faces filled with relief and excitement for the future. “Vivian, thank god we got out of there with you. I would’ve lost my mind staying at that place!” “Exactly! Making an intern the Creative Director? Has Carter completely lost his mind?” “He’s probably freaking out right now!” After a few drinks, we started discussing the details of our co-branding design. “The core design concept, ‘Metamorphosis,’ and all the detailed brand guidelines—the absolute complete versions are only in our heads,” Jack said with a grin. “I played it safe before we left. The files I uploaded to the company server were just the basic templates. None of the advanced applications or special printing specs were in there.” I nodded. “Good job. That knowledge is our intellectual property.” When Monday came around. Carter and his brand-new “Creative Director,” Chloe, officially started the hand-off process with the client. And very quickly, they ran into a wall. The client needed the complete brand guidelines manual for production and marketing. They searched through every single file on the company server but couldn’t find a thing. Relying on her basic school knowledge, Chloe pulled several all-nighters to put together some rough design drafts. The next day, Sarah Jenkins rejected them immediately. Sarah CC’d the entire executive board on the email, and her tone was incredibly harsh: “These designs show a complete lack of understanding of our brand identity. The colors, typography, and layout are amateur at best! Are we dealing with professionals here?” Chloe broke down crying in the middle of the office. It didn’t take long for Carter’s call to come through to my phone. “Vivian Knight! What is the meaning of this? You stole the source design files and the manual before you left?!” His voice was shaking with rage. I sat in my new executive office, looking out at the beautiful river view, and answered him calmly. “Carter, watch your mouth. Every file I handed over was documented and signed for.” “As for the advanced manual you’re talking about, that is the proprietary creative asset of my team. It’s our intellectual property. We have no obligation to give it to you.” “You wouldn’t dare!” he roared over the phone. “I’ll sue you for stealing company secrets!” I let out a soft laugh, reminding him of a very important fact he had overlooked. “Carter, we never signed an NDA or a non-compete clause.” “Furthermore, under intellectual property laws, the creative copyright of that specific concept belongs to me personally. Are you sure you want to take me to court?” There was nothing but heavy, panicked breathing on the other end. He slammed the phone down. 3. The client kept putting pressure on Carter’s company. Because the design standards couldn’t be confirmed, the entire multi-million-dollar project came to a screeching halt. Several major distributors who had already signed contracts began expressing their frustration. Carter’s company’s reputation was tanking fast. Chloe was completely useless. Aside from crying, she did nothing but complain to Carter that the client was “bullying” her on purpose. The office was filled with panic, and rumors were flying. Carter was losing his mind. He put out an urgent, high-paying job posting, stating he would pay whatever it took to hire a design expert who could solve their current brand crisis. However, a week went by, and not a single qualified designer applied. The industry circle was small. Everyone knew I was the mastermind behind the project. No one wanted to step into this mess, and certainly, no one wanted to offend me and my powerful new employer. He had backed himself into a corner. Just as Carter was about to completely despair, an agency calling themselves “Apex Design Agency” reached out to him. They claimed they had been studying my design style for years and guaranteed they could recreate a perfect replica of the brand manual. Chloe treated them like a savior. She whispered sweet nothings in Carter’s ear, saying this agency probably wanted to help them because they hated how I had abandoned the company. “Carter, see? Good things happen to good people! Vivian is just a bitter, petty woman!” Carter let himself be convinced. He gritted his teeth and hired the outside agency at three times the market rate. Three days later, they delivered a manual that looked flawless on the surface. Carter immediately forwarded it to the client. After reviewing it, Sarah only sent back a short sentence: “You may proceed.” Carter and Chloe were ecstatic. They thought the crisis was completely over. The very next day, Carter called an all-hands meeting. During the meeting, he publicly attacked me for “having no professional ethics, leaving traps in the files, and trying to blackmail the company.” He looked absolutely radiant and triumphant. “This just proves that nobody is irreplaceable! Some people shouldn’t think so highly of themselves!” “As of today, our company has officially severed all ties with the former design team. We have absolutely nothing to do with them anymore!” The employees in the audience had mixed expressions, but no one dared to speak up. I sat in my new company’s boardroom, watching the video of his passionate speech, and smiled. I was waiting for him to say exactly that. I immediately had my lawyer draft a legal notice based on his public declaration of “severing all ties.” I demanded that his company pay out the multi-million-dollar project bonuses he had promised my team, along with our full severance packages. With his written promises and his freshly publicized video admitting we had “no further ties,” he couldn’t find a single excuse to wriggle out of it. To save his company’s reputation, he was forced to wire the massive sum. His company’s cash flow, which was already strained from the project delay, took a devastating hit. Looking at the string of zeros added to my bank account, I felt no emotion. We earned every single cent of it. That same afternoon. I received an email from the parent company’s headquarters. It was from the secretary of the CEO. I clicked it open, and the subject line read: *“Official Appointment of Vivian Knight as the General Chairperson for the Upcoming Annual Brand Bidding Event.”* Three months later. Late autumn. The industry’s largest annual brand bidding event was held at the International Exhibition Center. I sat in the very center of the judges’ panel as the Executive Brand Director of the client firm. Below the stage sat representatives from the country’s top marketing agencies and design firms. My ex-husband, Carter, and his new Creative Director, Chloe, had arrived. They walked into the venue looking incredibly confident, wearing matching smug smiles. Carter spotted me almost instantly. He froze for a second, then a mocking sneer spread across his face. He whispered something to Chloe. I could read his lips perfectly. *”Look, some people can only get into these high-level events to spy on my success.”* Chloe covered her mouth and let out a soft giggle, her eyes filled with condescension. They genuinely believed I was just a former employee who had snuck in to watch and learn. My colleagues on the panel and several industry peers who knew my new position looked at him like he was a total clown. But he was completely oblivious. The host took the stage and began introducing the judges. “First, let us welcome with a warm round of applause, the General Chairperson of this bidding event, and our core Executive Brand Director—Ms. Vivian Knight!” The spotlight instantly locked onto me. I watched the smug smile on Carter’s face freeze instantly.

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I have Epidermolysis Bullosa—commonly known as “Butterfly Skin.” My skin is as fragile as a butterfly’s wing. The slightest scratch can cause tearing, severe bleeding, and easily take my life. After we got married, I desperately wanted a baby of our own. But my husband, Julian Vance, refused. He said, “I love you more than life itself, Elena. I can’t risk losing you.” After five years of his constant persuasion, we finally went to an adoption agency and brought a child home. I raised the boy, Tommy, as if he were my own flesh and blood. Julian, claiming he didn’t trust me to handle a child alone with my condition, even put his career on hold to stay home and help me. Until today. Eight-year-old Tommy held a sharp knife and deliberately slashed my wrist. I grabbed his hand just as he was about to stab me again. Julian walked in, saw us, and violently shoved me away. “He’s just a child! Did you really have to snap at him like that?” “I guess since he’s not your biological son, you just can’t help but be cruel.” Without even glancing at my bleeding wrist, he picked up Tommy and stormed upstairs. I followed them, desperate to explain, but stopped outside the bedroom door when I heard a familiar voice on Julian’s phone. It was my best friend, Chloe Miller. “Julian, Tommy is starting to look more and more like the two of us.” “What if Elena finds out he’s our child? She’s my best friend… I feel so guilty.” Julian’s voice was incredibly gentle as he comforted her. “Don’t worry. Her depression is getting worse by the day. She doesn’t have the mental capacity to notice anything.” I wiped away my tears and turned around. When Julian finally came downstairs with Tommy in his arms, I spoke up. “Let’s get a divorce, Julian.”

Julian froze, his face instantly turning cold. “Are you threatening me with a divorce now?” He let out a heavy sigh. “I won’t hold what happened with Tommy against you. Stop throwing these childish tantrums.” I took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. “I told you, he cut me on purpose with a knife.” Julian looked at me with pure disappointment, clearly unwilling to hear another word. As he slammed the door on his way out, the boy in his arms turned back and gave me a wicked, mocking smirk. I got into my car and quietly followed them. They went to an art gallery. Inside, Chloe was leaning beautifully against Julian, who was still holding Tommy. They were looking at a painting of a family of three standing by the sea. “Julian, let me hold Tommy.” “No, you’re pregnant. Tommy might accidentally hurt you.” Chloe pouted, looking a bit sad. “Is this new baby going to be raised by Elena, too?” Julian gently stroked Chloe’s cheek. “Taking care of a child alone is too hard. I can’t bear to watch you suffer.” He paused, his voice softening. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure Tommy knows who his real mother is.” I clutched my chest, a stabbing pain piercing my heart. No wonder Tommy had refused to get close to me ever since he was old enough to speak. Every time he looked at me, his eyes were filled with hostility. Whenever I told Julian about it, he would just kiss my forehead and tell me I was overthinking. It turned out Julian was the one whispering poison in his ear all along. Because of my Butterfly Skin, my slashed wrist was still bleeding profusely. The winter wind outside was freezing, but I couldn’t feel the cold anymore. Trembling, I walked into the gallery. Julian’s eyes flashed with panic when he saw me. Tears welled up in my eyes as I stared at the two of them. Julian’s first instinct was to shield Chloe behind his back. “I know everything,” I whispered. Chloe stepped forward, tears streaming down her face. “Elena, let me explain. I…” Suddenly, she threw herself to the floor, faking a hard fall. Julian’s eyes went red. He lunged forward and violently shoved me away. A heavy painting on the wall crashed down around us. “Elena! I’m pregnant! Why would you push me?!” Chloe screamed. The impact of Julian’s shove sent me crashing hard against the sharp corner of a wooden table. My fragile skin tore instantly, and blood began to soak through the back of my coat. Julian saw the blood. His fingers clenched tightly, and he made a move to step toward me. But Chloe screamed hysterically, “Julian! Save my baby! It hurts!” Without another look at me, he scooped her up and rushed out toward the hospital. I watched them disappear, my tears mixing with the blood pooling on the gallery floor. The other visitors in the gallery gathered around, whispering and pointing at me. “How ruinous. I came to see an art show and had to witness this drama.” “That woman is evil. How could she push a pregnant woman?” By the time I woke up, I was lying in a hospital bed. A kind stranger had called the ambulance for me. I dragged my battered body out of my room and stumbled down the hallway, only to see Julian and Chloe through the window of a private VIP suite. Julian was holding her close. Chloe looked up weakly. “Thank God the baby is fine. Otherwise, I’d never forgive myself.” Julian’s voice was thick with suppressed anger. “It’s not your fault. Elena is just too pathologically jealous.” “I’m going to make her come here and apologize to you.” He pulled out his phone and dialed. My ringtone echoed loudly in the quiet hallway. Julian turned and spotted me immediately. “Get in here and apologize to Chloe!” He grabbed my arm and dragged me into the room, showing zero concern for why I was in the hospital in the first place. Bruises were already starting to bloom across my arm where he touched me. It reminded me of when we first got together. Back then, because of my condition, I got bruised and cut constantly. But my family had just gone bankrupt, leaving us with massive debts. I had no choice but to work three jobs a day. Every night when I came home, Julian would look at my bruised body, his eyes red with tears. “I’ll pay it off for you,” he had vowed. We were just college students then. I thought he was joking. But two years later, when I went to make a payment on the remaining debt, the bank told me it had already been settled in full.

I pressed Julian until he finally admitted the truth. He had been driving long-haul trucks all night, working endless hours of manual labor just to clear my family’s name. He had gently wiped away my tears back then. “Why are you crying? I’m not tired.” Looking at the dark circles under his eyes, I knew he was lying. But his hard work paid off, and he eventually started his own successful company. After we got married, he hired four maids. He wouldn’t let me lift a single finger. Until I got pregnant. One morning, morning sickness hit me hard. I rushed to the bathroom, but some spilled water on the floor made me slip. I broke my wrist, and I lost the baby. I fell into a deep, dark depression. Julian had been devastated. He told me that if I ever ended my life, he would die right along with me. The sharp pain in my wrist pulled me back to the brutal present. “Are you already plotting how to hurt Chloe again?” Julian’s cold voice snapped me out of my thoughts. “You’re going to stay here and take care of her until she’s discharged.” A hollow laugh escaped my lips. Tears slipped down my cheeks. Seeing my expression, a sudden, inexplicable panic seemed to flash in Julian’s eyes. Sensing his hesitation, Chloe immediately cried out, “Ah! It hurts, Julian! It hurts so much!” Julian’s worry for her instantly overrode his momentary guilt. But before he could yell at me again, a nurse burst into the room. “What is wrong with you? I told you your pregnancy is highly unstable. Why are you out of bed wandering around?” the nurse scolded, looking directly at me. Julian gasped, completely stunned. “Elena… you’re pregnant?” But I saw the flash of utter disbelief in his eyes. It was as if he believed it was physically impossible for me to be pregnant. He quickly called for a private nurse to watch Chloe, then practically dragged me back to my own ward. He helped me onto the bed and tried to grasp my hands. “Alright, Elena. Now that you’re pregnant, stop making a scene.” “What happened with Chloe was just a drunken mistake. I only love you. She’s your best friend, and she values your friendship so much.” “Once she gives birth, I’ll send her and both of the kids abroad. I promise.” I stared at him, my eyes filled with mockery. What was this? Shoving me to the ground, and then offering me a sweet treat to make me forget the pain? “I’ll have your mother come over to take care of you. Just be good, okay?” His phone buzzed with a Snapchat notification from Chloe. My stomach began to ache faintly, and fear crept into my chest. “Julian, I…” Before I could finish, Julian was already walking out the door. During my three days in the hospital, Julian never showed up again. I decided it was time to go back to the Vance estate and pack my things. I didn’t even have money for an Uber, so I walked all the way back in my thin hospital gown with only a coat thrown over it. But the moment I pushed the front door open, the scene before me shattered what little sanity I had left.

My Pomeranian, who had been my loyal companion for five years, was lying on the floor, barely breathing. There was blood dripping from its mouth, and traces of chocolate scattered nearby. I looked up at Chloe, who was sitting on the sofa, a smirk playing on her lips. “Why did you feed him chocolate?! You did this on purpose!” Chloe put on her signature fragile act, but her voice was dripping with venom. “The dog took after its owner—greedy and stupid. You can’t blame me for its own mistake.” Julian walked out of the bedroom holding some blankets. He looked at me with a sigh. “Come on, Elena. It’s just a dog. Chloe didn’t know dogs couldn’t eat chocolate.” “Stop being so aggressive.” I was being aggressive? Julian had clearly forgotten why we even had this dog. When we first started working, we passed by a pet store. I had fallen in love with a tiny, adorable Pomeranian in a cage. But burdened with debt, I couldn’t afford it. That same night, a group of thugs cornered me on my way home from work. Julian had arrived just in time to save me. He had been beaten black and blue, but he just grinned at me. “Let’s go home. I have a surprise for you.” When we got back, that very Pomeranian was waiting for me. Julian had taken my hands, his eyes overflowing with love. “When I’m not around, let him protect you for me.” Seeing me silent, Julian handed me the blankets he was holding. “You almost made Chloe lose her baby. For the next few weeks, she’ll be staying in the master bedroom. You can crash on the living room sofa for now.” “Let’s just consider the art gallery incident settled.” I laughed until tears came out, unable to say a word. My reaction made Julian uneasy again. But before he could speak, the front door smart-lock chimed. My mother stood at the entrance, grocery bags in hand. She froze, taking in the sight of Chloe clinging to Julian’s arm, while her own daughter stood there pale, bruised, and bleeding. A nurse from the hospital who knew my family had already warned my mother about Julian’s affair. Now, she was seeing the proof with her own eyes. My mother rushed over and shielded me behind her. “Chloe Miller! Our family took you in when your father abused you and your mother abandoned you! We paid for your college! Is this how you repay us?!” Julian’s face darkened instantly. “Your daughter is the one who tried to hurt Chloe first, and you’re blindly attacking Chloe without knowing the facts?”

“Is this how the Cole family raised you to behave, Elena?!” With that, Julian grabbed Chloe’s hand, walked out of the house, and drove away. My mother looked at me, her eyes filled with rage and heartbreak. I smiled weakly. I couldn’t even cry anymore. Our massive wedding photo still hung prominently in the living room. In it, I was smiling so brightly, believing I had run straight into a lifetime of happiness. It took me seven years to realize that some fairy tales are just horror stories in disguise. I packed up only my personal belongings, leaving behind everything Julian had ever bought me. I grabbed a pair of scissors and sliced the wedding photo right down the middle, separating Julian and me forever. When I arrived back at my parents’ house, my father didn’t say much. But his eyes were red. “Sweetheart, I’ve already wired back every single penny Julian spent to pay off our debts years ago.” “Your mother and I are still here. Don’t be afraid.” Hearing my father’s words, the emotional dam inside me finally broke. I sobbed uncontrollably in his arms. Later that evening, Julian sent me a message after finding the messy house. “Elena, how old are you? Still playing the runaway card? Grow up.” My heart was already dead, yet his words still felt like a physical stab. Suddenly, my phone lit up with a notification. It was a rejection letter from the company I had interviewed with. But just yesterday, HR had told me to expect an offer letter. I took a cab straight to the company’s office. There, in the lobby, I found Chloe sipping a latte. She looked at me, her eyes dripping with pure condescension. “Surprised? Even if it’s not Julian’s company, he still has the power to get me hired over you.” Suppressing my tears, I called Julian. “Why did you give Chloe my job?” There was a long silence on the other end. “Stop making a scene, Elena. With your Butterfly Skin, what kind of work can you even do? Chloe was just laid off and desperately needs this job.” “She’s not like you, who only knows how to live off my money.” My hand holding the phone lost all its strength and dropped to my side. Chloe smirked, leaning in close. “Want to know why Julian was so shocked when he heard you were pregnant?” “Because he’s been slipping birth control pills into your food every single day.” “He only wants babies carried by me. He’s terrified you’ll give birth to a freak just like you.” “And your miscarriage back then? He spilled that water on the floor on purpose. He hated touching your bruised, hideous body.” Chloe laughed wickedly. Her words froze me in place like an icy bucket of water. I had truly believed he loved me back then. But he had already checked out of our marriage long ago. My mind went completely blank. I clenched my fists so hard my nails cut into my palms. Chloe let out a sinister chuckle. “Want to see who Julian really cares about?” Before I could react, she clapped her hands, and a group of hired thugs burst into the office. “Take her,” she ordered. I fought back with everything I had, but their brutal grip only caused my fragile skin to tear and bruise instantly. The office was crowded, but not a single person stepped in to help me. My phone, lying on the floor, buzzed with a text from Julian. “Elena, once you’re done throwing your tantrum, come home.” I let out a bitter, lifeless laugh. With my neck bruised and swollen from their rough handling, I was dragged to a shady VIP lounge at a local bar. A group of men surrounded me, forcing alcohol down my throat. Julian, having somehow gotten word, burst into the room. When he saw me being held down and forced to drink, rage flared in his eyes. But right then, Chloe wailed from the couch. “Julian, save me!” Julian saw Chloe, who was also being held by some men. He froze, his steps toward me halting instantly. He hesitated for a fraction of a second, then looked at me. “Elena, just hang in there for a moment!” He lunged at the men touching Chloe, screaming, “Get the hell off her! Don’t touch her!” Chloe was bleeding from somewhere, and Julian’s hands began to shake with panic. Without a single backward glance, he scooped her up and ran to his car. I screamed his name, but he never turned around. The men in the room turned back to me. One of them aggressively ripped the buttons off my shirt. The sheer force left deep, horrific purple bruises all over my skin. But as they stared at my body, which was rapidly turning black and blue from the minor struggle, they stopped. “What the hell is wrong with this woman?” “We barely touched her and she’s already covered in bruises. This is bad luck. Let’s get out of here!” For the first time in my life, I was grateful for my Butterfly Skin. I pulled out my phone with trembling hands and called my lawyer. “Send the divorce papers to Julian.” I gently touched my belly. Julian had been drugging me with birth control, so conceiving this child was a miracle. I couldn’t let him hurt this little life. The next morning, I boarded a plane to Europe with my parents. Julian, I hope we never meet again in this life or the next.

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I’ve had severe claustrophobia since I was a child. Yet, Carter locked me inside a Ferris wheel cabin and left me there for an entire night. The temperature plummeted between day and night. I almost went into shock from severe hypothermia. It was only the next morning that Carter finally showed up, dragging Jasmine along to offer a half-hearted apology. “I’m so sorry, Stella. Jasmine had a sudden car accident last night. I couldn’t just leave her alone.” Jasmine stepped forward, grabbing my hand with a fake, childish pout. “Please don’t be mad at Carter, Stella. The sports car he bought me had a sudden brake failure. I accidentally hit someone and killed them. That’s why we got delayed and couldn’t make it back to get you down.” My phone vibrated. I unlocked it. The top text preview read: *“Stella, my sweet girl… I don’t think Mom will ever see you again.”* My heart seized violently. A dark, terrifying realization washed over me. I dialed her number back immediately, but no one answered. In my sheer panic, my phone’s battery died and the screen went black. At that moment, I forgot all about my anger toward Carter. I grabbed his arm, begging to use his phone. “Carter, let me use your phone. I need to call my mom!” To my disbelief, he yanked his arm back and refused. “Your mom isn’t glued to her phone 24/7 waiting for your call, Stella. Stop being so dramatic.” “Let’s go home. We need to have a serious talk about us.” With that, Carter turned around and walked away, side-by-side with Jasmine. It was as if I didn’t even exist. As they walked, Jasmine turned her head and flashed me a cold, mocking smirk. A shiver ran down my spine. The dread in my chest grew heavier. Did something really happen to my mom? What did that text message mean? Jasmine claimed she was suffering from “post-traumatic stress” from the accident and was too terrified to go back to her own place. Of course, Carter was the perfect gentleman. He brought Jasmine right into the apartment we shared and let her stay. Over the years, Jasmine had always been a constant shadow in our relationship. She was the heiress of a wealthy family, yet she insisted on chasing a middle-class guy like Carter. And Carter did everything to please her. Even though he knew she was filthy rich, he drained his savings to buy her a sports car. Meanwhile, I didn’t even have a decent scooter. Jasmine casually threw my belongings out of the guest room onto the floor. “Stella, babe, I’m a total germaphobe. Do you mind moving your stuff somewhere else?” My anxiety was already at its peak, and her attitude made me snap. “If you’re such a germaphobe, why are you still drooling over Carter? I’ve touched every single inch of his body.” “Don’t you find him dirty?” Jasmine’s face turned red with anger. She stomped her foot and ran straight into the study to cry to Carter. I didn’t care. I rushed to plug my phone into the charger. The moment it powered on, I called my mom again and again. Just like this morning, it went straight to voicemail. I couldn’t stay here for another second. I had to go home. I pulled out a suitcase and began packing the clothes Jasmine had thrown onto the floor. Since she wanted Carter so badly, I was done. I was letting him go. Carter walked out of the study just as I was zipping up my bag. His face darkened, and he aggressively snatched the suitcase from my hands. “Can you have some self-respect for once? Packing up and threatening to leave every time we have a fight—do you really think I’ll keep begging you to stay?” “Stop throwing tantrums, Stella.” “And I heard what you said to Jasmine. You know she’s sensitive. Why do you have to pick on a younger girl?” He unzipped the suitcase and dumped my clothes back onto the floor. I looked at him, completely lost. If he loved Jasmine so much, why wouldn’t he just let me go? “Carter, look at yourself. You care about Jasmine way more than you care about me.” “Let’s just call it quits before we make the mistake of getting married.” “I need to go home and check on my mom. I don’t have time for your games.” But I didn’t manage to leave. Carter took my ID and my phone, lock, stock, and barrel. Then, he began his usual routine—apologizing, begging for forgiveness. Every time he hurt me because of Jasmine, he would beg. And if I didn’t forgive him, he would always find a way to make me pay. Feeling completely defeated, I collapsed onto the couch. Jasmine made two cups of coffee. She handed one to Carter, sipping the other. The two of them sat on the balcony, chatting as if I weren’t even in the room. Jasmine chuckled. “The person I ran over last night was so fragile. Just a tiny bump and bam—dead.” “Fortunately, my dad’s lawyers found out she was some distant relative from the countryside. We paid off her family with some cash, and the police wrapped it up.” Carter took a sip of his coffee, looking at Jasmine with pure adoration. “She was in her late fifties anyway. It was her time. It wasn’t your fault, Jasmine. She probably wasn’t looking where she was going.” My blood ran cold. A human life meant absolutely nothing to them. Carter, have you forgotten who you used to be? You used to cry over a stray dog on the street and bring it home. While I was lost in my thoughts, Jasmine spoke again. “But get this—isn’t it crazy? The dead woman’s heart was a perfect match for my dad’s.” “So they did an emergency transplant. My dad got her heart.” “Honestly, though, it’s kind of gross. She was so poor and dirty. I hope my dad’s body doesn’t reject her cheap heart.” I couldn’t listen to another word. I got up and locked myself in the bedroom. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I used an iPad to send Carter a Snapchat message. *”We’re done. Whether you agree to it or not, there’s nothing left between us.”* Carter didn’t reply. He and Jasmine kept laughing on the balcony, talking about how “thrilling” their night had been. A few minutes later, my iPad buzzed. I thought it was my mom, but it was a message from Jasmine. *”You’ve been listening this whole time, Stella. Aren’t you sad?”* *”The woman who died… was your precious mom.”* *”You really are heartless.”*

My brain went entirely blank. My first instinct was to run out and scream at Jasmine. But when I opened the door, she was already in bed. Carter was just coming out of the guest room. I tried to push past him, but he grabbed me tightly, shoving me back. “What is wrong with you now? I just got Jasmine to sleep. Don’t go in there and wake her up!” That night, we had the biggest fight of our lives. I screamed, asking him why he always put Jasmine first. He yelled back, accusing me of being insecure and insanely jealous. Finally, he sneered, “Jasmine is sweet and innocent. Unlike you, Stella. You’re calculated, bitter, and exhausting.” I stopped fighting. A sickening thought hit me. Carter knew. He knew about my mom, and he was helping Jasmine cover it up. After the screaming died down, Carter threw my ID back at me. “Stella, realistically, do you think you can find anyone better than me?” “I’ve never judged you for your poor background. You should be grateful.” I burst into a laugh—a laugh that quickly turned into tears. Standing a few feet away from him, I whispered, “My mom is dead, isn’t she? And you knew about it all along.” He turned to look at me, his expression suddenly blank. “What did you say? I was on my phone. I didn’t hear you.” “Anyway, have you calmed down? Are you staying?” I spent the rest of the night on the couch. From the bedroom, I could hear Carter and Jasmine giggling. They slept in the same bed right in front of me, all because Jasmine was “scared of the dark” and Carter “had to comfort her.” I realized then that being strong gets a woman nowhere. It only gives men an excuse not to care. At dawn, I got on a Greyhound bus back to my hometown. But the house was empty. My mom’s wardrobe was completely cleaned out. Desperate, I checked our Ring camera footage on my phone. The footage showed my mom leaving with her suitcase two days ago. I remembered her calling me a few weeks ago, saying she wanted to come to the city to visit me. I had told her no, saying I would come pick her up during my next vacation. She must have decided to surprise me. Was the woman Jasmine hit really my mom? How could it be such a coincidence? My mom had never met Jasmine. How did Jasmine know she was my mother?

Back in the city, I ran to every single hospital. Finally, at a high-end private medical center, I found a lead. A woman victims of a severe car accident had indeed been brought in two nights ago. But her body had been quickly taken away by the Qiao Group. The hospital itself was owned by Jasmine’s family. I collapsed onto the steps outside the hospital, watching the busy streets. The crushing weight of helplessness suffocated me. My mom died without getting to see me one last time. She died with me on her mind. And I had missed her. When I got back to the apartment, only Jasmine was there. I marched up to her, demanding answers. “Jasmine, you knew she was my mom from the very beginning, didn’t you?” “Why did you do it? Where is her body?!” Jasmine was painting her nails, her usual sweet, innocent act completely gone. “Where do you think? Probably in some stray dog’s stomach by now.” I clenched my fists, my body shaking with rage. “Murderers go to jail, Jasmine. Aren’t you afraid of karma?” Jasmine looked up, meeting my eyes with a smirk. “Lower your voice, babe. We wouldn’t want Carter to hear you. In his eyes, I’m just a harmless little bunny.” “Look, don’t be so dramatic. I can write you a check for five million dollars. I know you poor people love money.” “But on one condition—take the money and leave Carter forever, okay?” The rage that had been building up inside me for days exploded. Looking at her smug, disgusting face, I raised my hand and slapped her across the face as hard as I could. *SLAP!* A bright red handprint appeared on her cheek. Jasmine’s eyes flared with anger, but in the next second, she forced tears into her eyes and threw herself onto the floor. Because the front door was opening. Carter was home. Jasmine sobbed hysterically on the floor. “Carter! Stella slapped me! She called me a homewrecker and a whore!” “Nobody has ever treated me like this…” Carter’s eyes turned bloodshot. He didn’t even take off his shoes before rushing over to me. “Don’t worry, Jasmine. I’ll handle this.” He glared at me with absolute hatred. “Stella, are you actively trying to test my limits?” *SMACK!* A brutal slap landed on my face. Carter’s blow was ten times harder than the one I gave Jasmine. I lost my balance and crashed hard onto the floor. The back of my head struck the sharp corner of the coffee table. A sharp, blinding pain shot through my skull. Tears streamed down my face. “Carter… you idiot… Jasmine is a murderer! She killed my—” Before I could finish, Carter kicked me hard in the stomach. I doubled over, the pain forcing the rest of my words back down my throat. Carter seemed to realize he had gone too far. Seeing me curled up on the floor in agony, a flicker of guilt crossed his face. He knelt down to help me up. But Jasmine let out a dramatic groan. “Oh, Carter… my stomach hurts so bad…” “Take me to the ER, please!” Without a second thought, Carter left me on the floor and carried Jasmine out. The disappointment was crippling. Even after everything, my heart still ached. Ultimately, it was a kind neighbor passing by who found me and called an ambulance. At the hospital, the doctor gave me the news: I was pregnant. With triplets. I didn’t hesitate. “I want to schedule an abortion.” In the office, the doctor stopped typing on his keyboard. He looked up at me. “Triplets, Stella. Are you sure you want to do this?” My voice was flat. “They’re coming at the worst possible time.” “Just get rid of them.” The doctor’s hands froze over the keyboard. “What if I told you… I want them?” I froze. When I first walked into the clinic, I hadn’t realized the doctor on duty was Julian Vance. If I had known, I would have canceled the appointment. But he was the only specialist available. Julian was my childhood friend. After I started dating Carter, I had cut off all contact with him. Even though he used to text me to check on me, I had never replied. “Keep them, Stella. An abortion will ruin your body,” he said softly, his eyes filled with concern. … For the next week, Carter never came back to the apartment. He only sent a text saying Jasmine was traumatized by the “incident” and he was taking her on a trip to Hawaii to recover. I didn’t waste any time. During that week, Julian and I made a decision. We set a date to get married. The day before Carter was scheduled to return, I moved all my things out. The evening before my wedding, Carter finally called me. “Stella, it’s time to come home. I’ll take you to the Ferris wheel tonight. Just you and me.” How pathetic, Carter. I’m about to get married, and only now do you remember me? “Sorry, Carter. I’m getting married tomorrow. My fiancé wouldn’t appreciate me meeting up with my ex.” Carter’s mind went blank. He yelled into the phone, “Stella! What the hell are you talking about?! I’m not even there! Who are you marrying?!” I hung up on him. Since I was already breaking his heart, I figured I might as well shatter it completely. I sent him the audio recordings of Jasmine boasting about the murder, along with screenshots of her text messages. Within minutes, my phone blew up with dozens of Snapchats. *“Stella, please! Wait for me! You can’t marry him!”* *“Stella, there must be a misunderstanding. Please, just wait for me. I’m begging you…”*

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On our third wedding anniversary, Ethan and I got into a car crash. When the truck lost control and slammed into us, Ethan’s first instinct was to shield the passenger seat. He held Chloe tightly in his arms, protecting her with his life. I was in the back seat, my lower abdomen pinned by the deformed metal. The pain was so agonizing that my breath shook. When the rescue team arrived, Ethan had already smashed the passenger door open, carrying Chloe out. A firefighter shone a flashlight into the car and yelled, “Is there anyone else inside?” Ten minutes before the crash, Ethan had personally closed the back door for me. I tried my best to raise my hand, wanting to tap on the window. But through the shattered glass, I heard his hoarse voice reply, “No. No one else.” “Take her to the hospital first. She’s always been terrified of pain. She can’t handle any shock.” My hand froze in mid-air. When Chloe was lifted onto the stretcher, she only had a shallow scratch on her wrist from the glass. Yet Ethan held her hand tightly, looking like he had just recovered his most precious treasure. “Don’t be scared. I’m here.” From beginning to end, he never once looked back at the smoking car. Later, when the firefighters dragged me out of the back seat, my skirt was already soaked in blood. The doctor looked at my chart, his face darkening instantly. “Why did you bring her in so late?” “Her abdomen suffered severe trauma. We need to operate immediately.” The nurse held the consent form and asked me, “Where is your family?” I looked toward the ward not far away. Chloe’s scratch was so shallow it didn’t even need stitches. But Ethan was guarding her bedside, his eyes red as he forced the doctor to examine her for the third time. I suddenly let out a soft laugh. “I don’t have any family here. I’ll sign it myself.”

After the surgery, I was wheeled back to the ward. The anesthesia wore off slowly. But the pain came back fast. My abdomen felt like it was being sliced open repeatedly with a knife. I didn’t even dare to breathe too hard. The doctor stood by my bed, his voice very gentle. “We couldn’t save the baby.” “It will be very difficult for you to get pregnant again in the future.” I stared at the medical report. The words on it were clear. But I stared at them for a long time, unable to process what they meant. So I had been pregnant. And that child never even got a chance to be known by their father. In the next ward, Ethan’s voice was more frantic than the doctor’s. “Will her wrist scar? Did it damage her tendons? Check it again!” The doctor explained patiently, “Mr. Vance, it’s just a scratch. It doesn’t even need stitches.” But Ethan wouldn’t let it go. “She’s been sensitive to pain since she was a kid. Don’t be careless.” I turned my head away. Through the half-open door, I saw Chloe sitting on the hospital bed. She had a small Band-Aid on her wrist. Ethan was bending over, holding her hand, his eyes filled with intense worry. The nurse came over to change my dressing. The moment she peeled off the gauze, my fingers trembled from the pain. She stopped. “Where is your husband? Have him come in and support you.” I looked at the room next door. Ethan was softly coaxing Chloe to drink some water. “He’s not here.” The nurse was stunned. She looked at the wedding ring on my finger, then at Ethan in the next room. “Isn’t that man your husband?” I pulled my hand back under the blanket. The edge of the ring dug painfully into my palm. It hurt. “No. He’s the family member of the patient next door.” The nurse didn’t ask further. She just made her movements much gentler. After a long time, Ethan finally came out of the room. He stood by my bed. Seeing how pale I was, he frowned slightly. “How are you feeling?” I was about to hand him the medical report. But Chloe called out from next door. “Ethan!” His gaze shifted instantly. That belated bit of concern was pulled back before it could even reach me. “Get some rest first,” he said. He turned and went right back to her. I crumpled the report in my hand. I suddenly remembered the day we got married three years ago. Chloe had just rejected Ethan. She told him she only saw him as a brother. Ethan stood in the pouring rain all night. The next day, he came to see me. His voice was incredibly hoarse. “Don’t you like me? Let’s give it a try.” Back then, I thought I had finally waited long enough. I even secretly bought a bouquet of flowers. A small bouquet of baby’s breath. I held it tightly as we went to the courthouse. But Ethan never looked at those flowers. When we took our marriage photo, he didn’t smile either. The photographer had to remind him three times. Only then did he force a faint tug at the corner of his lips. I comforted myself back then. He was just hurt. People can slowly learn to love someone else. But three years had passed. Did he move on? No. The only one trapped in this marriage was me. Late at night, the lights in the next ward were still on. Ethan stayed by Chloe’s side while she slept. He tucked her in, adjusted the AC, and placed a cup of water right by her hand. I had post-surgery bleeding. I had to press the call button to get the nurse myself. While the nurse was changing my sheets, my phone buzzed with a payment notification. Chloe’s full checkups, the VIP suite, and her meals were all paid for by Ethan. My surgery fee, however, was paid with my own card. I looked at the payment screen. Suddenly, I felt so tired. It turned out a marriage could be split so cleanly. Where his heart was, that was where his money went. I folded the abortion report and stuffed it into my bag. Then I opened my phone. I logged into our company’s relocation system. In the relocation application reason, I wrote only four words: *Will follow any transfer.*

I was discharged the next day. Ethan personally wheeled Chloe downstairs. Chloe looked glowing. She sat in the wheelchair, wearing his jacket. A thin layer of gauze was wrapped around her wrist. She looked more like a delicate piece of porcelain than a patient. I held onto the wall, slowly following behind them. Every step sent a sharp pain through my abdomen, making my vision go dark. The nurse ran out and called after us. “Mrs. Vance, you just had surgery. It’s best if your husband supports you.” Ethan paused. He looked back at me. I looked at him too. Chloe cleared her throat softly. Ethan immediately looked down at her. “Are you cold? Do you want another jacket?” In the end, his glance only brushed past me. In the parking lot, the driver opened the door. The back seat was piled high with Chloe’s flower baskets, supplements, and medical bags. A soft cushion was laid out on the passenger seat. Ethan had put it there himself for Chloe. I stood by the car, the cold wind blowing into my collar. The gauze on my stomach throbbed. I asked him, “Where do I sit?” Ethan buckled Chloe’s seatbelt without looking up. “Take an Uber back.” My phone vibrated. He had sent me two hundred dollars. The note read: *Stop making a scene.* Chloe sat in the front seat and said softly, “Maybe Elena should sit here? She doesn’t look well.” Ethan shut her door. “She’s always been tough.” *Always been tough.* So I could handle the pain. I could handle the bleeding. And I could handle losing our child. I suddenly remembered when we first started dating. Ethan held the steering wheel and told me, “This passenger seat is yours. Only you can sit here.” I was so happy that day that I posted a picture of the car window on Snapchat. The caption read: *My exclusive spot.* Later, Chloe came back to the country. The first time she got into the car, she sat in the front. I asked Ethan why. He said she got car sick. He told me not to be petty. It turned out my “exclusive spot” was just a temporary loan while Chloe was away. And now. The passenger seat wasn’t mine. There was no room for me in the back either. Just like the day of the crash. I was always put last. And I was always the one who could be forgotten. I took an Uber back to our house alone. The driver looked at me through the rearview mirror several times. “Miss, do you need me to take you to the ER?” I said no. There was no one waiting for me at the hospital anyway. When I got home, there was soup simmering in the kitchen. Wild mushroom chicken soup. Chloe’s favorite. On the coffee table, her anxiety meds, heating pad, and pain patches were laid out neatly. Everything was perfectly prepared. My anti-inflammatory meds were still crumpled inside the hospital plastic bag. No one opened them. No one asked. No one even remembered I had just had surgery. That evening, Ethan came back. He brought a container of porridge. He set it in front of me. “Your sister couldn’t finish it. Don’t let it go to waste.” The porridge was already lukewarm. I looked at the thin layer of skin forming on top and didn’t touch it. Ethan frowned. “Your stomach is weak. Eat a little.” I suddenly smiled. He actually remembered my stomach was weak. But remembering didn’t stop him from handing me someone else’s leftovers. Chloe’s call came right at that moment. Ethan answered almost instantly. Her voice was soft and crying on the other end. “Ethan, I’m scared to sleep alone.” Ethan had already picked up his car keys. “I’m coming over.” I looked up at him. “Ethan.” He stopped. I asked, “If I were the one scared tonight, would you rush over like this too?” He frowned. “Chloe just survived a car crash. Don’t compare yourself to her at a time like this.” The door shut. Only the cold porridge was left in the quiet house. I stared at it for a while. Then I opened my laptop and went to the relocation system. The button to confirm the transfer was glowing. I clicked it. *Transfer Confirmed.* The words on the screen were small. But they felt like a door opening right in front of me.

Three days after the crash, Ethan took me to the Vance family estate for dinner. He said Chloe was shaken up, and the family wanted to check on her. I had just finished surgery, and I still had to hold the walls to walk. Before we left, he looked at me. It wasn’t out of concern. It was a warning. “Don’t let the elders see you looking miserable.” I lowered my head and wrapped my scarf. I didn’t answer. The dinner table at the Vance estate was lively. Every dish was Chloe’s favorite. Honey-glazed ribs. Sweet potato casserole. Sweet butternut squash soup. I couldn’t eat sweet foods due to my stomach condition. Ethan knew this. In the past, when my stomach flared up, he would push all the sweet dishes away. He used to say, “My girl isn’t going to the hospital over a plate of food.” Back then, I really thought he loved me. But today, Chloe placed a honey-glazed rib into my bowl. “Elena, eat more.” I looked at the sticky, sweet rib. I slowly put down my forks. Ethan’s face darkened instantly. “She’s just being nice. Don’t ruin the mood.” The relatives fell silent for a second. Soon, someone laughed to break the tension. “These two sisters are just like when they were kids. One is delicate, the other is stubborn.” “Back then, we all thought Ethan would marry Chloe.” “But Elena is lucky. She got a great husband in the end.” Chloe lowered her head. Her voice was soft. “Don’t say that. It will make Elena sad.” Ethan didn’t defend me. He only said, “Let’s not talk about the past.” *The past.* Those words fell so lightly. Sitting there, I suddenly felt like an outsider. I was the one who was legally Ethan’s wife. Yet the way they looked at me. It was like I was a thief who had stolen Chloe’s rightful place. My mother-in-law pulled out a brochure. “Chloe is psychologically fragile right now. The doctor suggests she spend three months at a coastal recovery retreat.” “The retreat has a great environment, and Ethan has already paid half.” She pushed the brochure in front of me. “For the rest of the bill, you should take out your fertility savings.” “You’re still young anyway. You can always have kids later.” My fingers froze. That savings. I had saved it dollar by dollar. I had dreamed of buying a crib, baby clothes, and a stroller once the baby was born. But now the baby was gone. And they wanted to take that money to pay for Chloe’s luxury retreat. I looked at Ethan. He didn’t look away. He only said, “We need to prioritize her right now.” I asked, “What if I told you the baby is already gone?” The table fell dead silent. Chloe’s tears instantly started flowing. “Elena, are you still blaming me for sitting in the front seat?” “Please don’t use a baby to scare me. I’ll die of guilt.” Ethan’s brow furrowed deeply. “That’s enough.” I looked at him. His voice was extremely low. “Don’t use a child to fight for my attention.” “You know how easily she blames herself. Why do you have to trigger her?” At that moment. I suddenly lost all energy to explain. Even when I admitted to losing our child. In his eyes, it was just a cheap trick to make him jealous. Chloe clutched her chest, saying she couldn’t breathe. Ethan immediately stood up to support her. He brushed past me, yelling for the family doctor. I looked down and opened my phone. I searched for a divorce agreement template. And I typed Ethan’s name in, letter by letter. I had written his name so many times before. On our wedding invitations. On our house deed. On my pregnancy checkup forms. But it had never felt as smooth and effortless as it did now.

Back at our house, for the first time, Ethan didn’t immediately run off to Chloe. He placed a bowl of warm soup in front of me. His voice was softer. “I’ll take you to the hospital for a checkup tomorrow.” “I haven’t paid enough attention to you these past few days.” “Once Chloe stabilizes, we’ll focus on us.” I looked at him. This felt exactly like every other late compensation he had offered before. Once Chloe stabilizes. Once Chloe is fine. Once Chloe stops crying. In the end. I was always the one left waiting. Ethan reached out to touch my face. I turned away. His hand froze in the air. I asked him, “Ethan, if she and I both needed you tomorrow, who would you choose first?” He frowned slightly. “That’s a pointless question.” The next second, his phone rang. It was a voice message from Chloe. She was sobbing hysterically. “Ethan, I shouldn’t be alive. I’m just getting in the way of your marriage.” “If it weren’t for me, Elena wouldn’t hate you so much.” Ethan’s face changed instantly. I looked at him. “Didn’t you say you’d take me to the hospital tomorrow?” He gripped his phone. He was silent for a long time. Then he said, “I just need to make sure she’s safe. I’ll be right back.” I smiled. “Right back.” On the day of the crash, he should have remembered me “right back” too. But he told the firefighters. There was no one else inside. Ethan grabbed his coat. Before opening the door, he looked back at me. “Wait for me.” Once the door closed, the house became completely quiet. I sat there for a while. Then I stood up and placed the signed divorce papers on the coffee table. The abortion report. The post-surgery diagnosis. The ultrasound picture. And my wedding ring. I pressed them all down under the papers. I transferred the fertility savings back to my personal account. That was my money for my baby. Now that the baby was gone. Not a single cent of it was going to Chloe’s wellness retreat. My suitcase had been packed long ago. I deactivated my phone number. I deleted all my social media accounts. No notes. No goodbyes. I went straight to the airport. It was past midnight when Ethan finally came home. Chloe had only taken two sleeping pills. The doctor said she just needed some sleep. When he opened the door, the house was dark. He instinctively called my name. No one answered. Half the master closet was empty. My usual skincare products on the vanity were gone. My toothbrush in the bathroom was gone too. Ethan’s face turned pale. He rushed to the living room. There, he saw the divorce papers on the coffee table. He saw the medical report that read: *Miscarriage, uterine trauma, future conception will be difficult.* And he saw the ultrasound picture pressed beneath them. In the photo, the tiny gestational sac was just a blurry dot. It was the surprise I had wanted to give him. Ethan stood frozen. His fingers shook so badly he could barely hold the paper. He desperately started dialing my number. But only a cold automated voice answered. “The number you have dialed is no longer in service.”

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My boyfriend was heavily in debt. Out of pure love, I willingly became a VIP club hostess to support him. For three years, I threw away my dignity to pour drinks for rich men. Yet, even when I was pregnant, my boyfriend’s loan shark set his eyes on me. The loan shark wanted me to sleep with him to clear the debt. He dragged me toward a back room. Thinking of the baby in my belly, I struggled with everything I had. In the chaos, my boyfriend blocked a knife for me. Blood poured from his wound. I broke down, crying hysterically. He comforted me, whispering, “I’ll never let anyone hurt you or our baby again.” At the hospital, the doctor told me his kidney was ruptured. He needed an immediate transplant, or he would die. Still blinded by love, I donated one of my kidneys to him. But right after the surgery, while I was still weak, I overheard a conversation between my boyfriend and his loan shark outside my door. “That was a brilliant move, Mr. Vance! It was so easy to get that club girl to willingly give up her kidney.” “It’s an honor for her to save Blair’s life,” my boyfriend’s cold voice replied. “But Mr. Vance, she’s still pregnant. What if it hurts the baby? It’s your blood, after all. Is that really okay?” “A woman who works in a place like that… the kid wouldn’t be clean anyway.”

Hearing those words, my heart shattered. My body couldn’t stop shaking. Just then, the doctor walked up to Tristan Vance respectfully and reported: “Mr. Vance, as you requested, we have successfully transplanted Clara Davis’s kidney to Miss Blair Montgomery. The surgery was a complete success.” Tristan couldn’t hide his joy. This man, usually so composed, actually ran down the hallway toward Blair’s private room. The loan shark watched him leave, cast a contemptuous glance at my ward, and spoke to his thug. “Mr. Vance really loves Miss Montgomery. Normally, if she just gets a scratch, he loses his mind. A major surgery like a kidney transplant must have worried him sick. But his little hostess girlfriend is miserable. She gave up a kidney for absolutely nothing.” “Exactly, Leo. The girl is pregnant. But Mr. Vance was so cold. He ordered us to make sure she didn’t die before the surgery, but that was it. No mercy at all.” “For a rich heir like Mr. Vance, women are disposable. Why would he care about a club hostess?” Their words pierced through the thin wall, entering my ears with brutal clarity. I clenched my fists so hard my nails dug into my palms. I forced myself to stay conscious through the searing pain. Once the hallway went quiet, I dragged my weak, aching body toward the room Tristan had run into. A small, pathetic part of me was still hoping. Hoping that what I just heard was a nightmare. I peered through the small window of the private suite. The reality slapped me in the face. We had the surgery on the same day. Blair was in a luxurious, private suite. I was in a crowded, noisy six-person ward. It was painfully clear who mattered to him. Inside, Tristan was holding Blair, who was whimpering about the pain. He gently wiped the sweat from her forehead, his eyes filled with pure heartache. “What are those doctors doing? I told them to use the best painkillers. Useless bastards. Don’t worry, Blair. I know how much you care about your looks. I won’t let this surgery leave a scar. Come on, let’s eat something first, okay?” I subconsciously touched my own face. All I felt were thick, rough bandages covering my wounds. Since childhood, everyone had praised my beauty. When Tristan first met me, he said I was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. Did he still remember that? Did he remember that I also cared about my looks? Tristan gently blew on a spoonful of warm oatmeal, coaxing the picky Blair to eat, carefully wiping her lips. I suddenly remembered a time when I had a high fever. I hadn’t had a drop of water all day. When I called Tristan, he simply said he was working late and ordered me takeout. Back then, I felt so bad for making him worry during his busy work hours. I was so happy just to get that cheap takeout. It turned out he knew how to take care of someone. He just didn’t want to waste it on me. Their intimacy burned my eyes. As I turned to leave, the door suddenly swung open.

I froze, bumping right into Tristan. I thought he would recognize me, but his eyes held nothing but raw disgust. “This is a private wing. What are you sneaking around here for? The hospital security needs to be fired. Letting random trash wander up here.” I gasped. Then I realized my face was completely wrapped in bandages due to the injuries from the loan shark attack. Tristan didn’t recognize me. But this also meant he hadn’t visited my room even once since the surgery. I had wondered if he would panic if I caught him. Now, his cold gaze gave me the ultimate answer. The hospital security guards arrived and escorted me back to my crowded ward. Tristan didn’t give me another glance. He turned back to comfort Blair, promising her that this “annoyance” wouldn’t happen again. Back in my bed, the nurse gasped. She realized that my sudden movement had ripped my surgical stitches, and blood was soaking through my gown. But the physical pain was nothing compared to the agony in my chest. It wasn’t until evening, when it was time to change my dressings, that Tristan finally showed up. He had changed into patient scrubs. Seeing my bandaged face, he frowned and asked with feigned concern: “Clara, you’ve been through so much, and you gave your kidney to save me. How is your body? Is the baby okay?” I instinctively placed my hand over my stomach and shook my head. “The baby is fine.” “You haven’t eaten all day, right? I scraped together the last of my savings and bought you something from a nice restaurant.” He opened a bag with an air of sacrifice, showing me steak and lobster. These were luxuries I could never afford during our three years together. I looked down. “These are so expensive. Why did you spend so much money?” “You sacrificed your kidney for me. Of course I need to feed you the best to help you recover. Besides, I promised you we’d eat like this every day in the future. You won’t have to suffer anymore.” His lies were still so smooth, so convincing. If this were the old me, I would have been so moved that I wouldn’t eat a single bite. I would have begged him to return it just to save a few dollars. But now, I just stared at the food in silence. Because on the steak, there was a visible bite mark. Blair’s bite mark. I touched my stomach. Driven by a mix of rage and despair, I grabbed a piece of the untouched meat with my bare hands and stuffed it into my mouth. To pay off his fake debts, I hadn’t had a proper meal in years. I lived on cheap crackers and tap water. I had forgotten how good real food tasted. As I swallowed, I sucked the grease off my fingers, and tears finally spilled over. Tristan looked at me, a flash of annoyance crossing his face. He reached out to grab the box away. “Stop eating!” I let out a bitter laugh. “Why? Didn’t you buy this for me?” Tristan lowered his eyes, suddenly pulling me into a tight hug. “I… I just feel guilty that I couldn’t provide this for you sooner.” But I didn’t miss the disgust that flashed in his eyes before he hugged me. Once the veil of lies was lifted, every ugly detail became blindingly obvious. After the meal, the nurse walked in to remind Tristan to pay the hospital bills. Tristan went quiet for a moment. “Clara, I’m so sorry. I… I can’t afford the ward fees right now…” I kept my head down, staring at his polished leather shoes. I had searched them online. Those handmade shoes cost tens of thousands of dollars. Blair had gifted them to him in her room earlier. He noticed where I was looking and quickly pulled me closer, gripping my shoulders so hard it hurt. He realized his reaction was too defensive and tried to soften his tone. “Sorry, Clara. I didn’t mean to squeeze so hard. Oh, these shoes? The guy sharing my ward didn’t want them anymore. They looked brand new, so I took them. Do they look alright?” Did he really think I was stupid enough to believe such a pathetic lie? “They look great,” I whispered. “Just like brand new.”

After we were discharged and went back to our rented apartment, Tristan’s impatience grew day by day because he had to “take care” of me. Remembering how he once promised to cherish me forever, I wanted to laugh. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Tristan opened it, and Blair, who had somehow found our address, skipped inside and threw herself into Tristan’s arms. Tristan’s face softened instantly into pure adoration. He held her tightly, terrified she might fall. “Oh! You must be Tristan’s girlfriend. I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there!” “Tristan and I grew up together. I heard he was hurt, and I was so worried that I just had to come. You don’t mind, do you?” Seeing my silence, Blair’s eyes welled with tears. “Did I ruin things? If you don’t like me here, I’ll just leave…” Tristan immediately shielded her behind his back, snapping at me for the first time in public. “Why are you throwing a tantrum? Do you have any idea how much you’re hurting Blair’s feelings?” “It’s okay, Tristan. Maybe she’s just in a bad mood. Tristan, I’m hungry. Can you make me that warm sweet oatmeal you always make?” Blair cooed. They played their roles perfectly, painting me as the bitter villain without me saying a single word. Tristan tapped Blair’s nose gently. “Alright, my little princess. Go sit down. I’ll make your favorite.” Tristan went into the kitchen. This man, who had always claimed he didn’t know how to cook to get out of doing chores, prepared the oatmeal with practiced ease. He had clearly done it hundreds of times. I had loved him so much that I never let him touch a frying pan after his long workdays. Once, when I playfully asked him to cook for me, he made excuses and dumped a cup of instant noodles in front of me. I had laughed it off back then. Now, I couldn’t even force a smile. Blair smirked and walked over to me. She suddenly grabbed my hand. I frowned and tried to pull away, but she used the momentum to throw herself onto the floor. Hearing the crash, Tristan rushed out of the kitchen. His face darkened instantly, and he violently shoved me aside. He used all his strength. My body was still incredibly weak from the surgery. I lost my balance and crashed hard into the glass coffee table. A sharp, agonizing pain shot through my abdomen. My lips trembled, but I couldn’t make a sound. “Clara! Even if you hate me, you shouldn’t have pushed me! I would have left if you just asked…” Blair sobbed on the floor. “You’ve gone too far! Do you know Blair just had major surgery?!” Tristan roared. The mask of the loving boyfriend was completely gone, replaced by raw disgust. I lay collapsed against the broken glass. A warm, terrifying wetness began to seep between my thighs. “Call 911… the baby…” I gasped. But before I could finish, Tristan had already scooped Blair up in his arms and was rushing out the door to the hospital. Blair looked over his shoulder, flashing me a victorious, wicked grin. She mouthed three words: “Go. Die. Now.”

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While we were in the hot spring, my wife’s male best friend suddenly shoved me underwater. He yanked on my swim trunks, ripping them, trying to expose me to everyone in the pool. Then, he pointed at the birthmark on my butt and laughed. “A psychic healer told Chloe that this birthmark means he was a gluttonous pig in his past life!” “Oh my god, Chloe, your husband’s is so much smaller than mine. How do you even stomach that? Haha… Tell me, whose do you like better? Mine or his?” I struggled to stand up, instinctively trying to cover myself. But he just smirked and offered a cheeky, provocative explanation: “Don’t get the wrong idea! She didn’t know anything at first. I was the one who taught her how to please a man!” “Besties don’t have secrets. I know way more than you think!” My mind went completely blank. I stared at Chloe in utter disbelief. She just stood there with a smile, not caring in the slightest. Only when she noticed my glare did she say casually, “Alright, Julian, stop teasing him. You know he’s sensitive.” She was talking to Julian. But there wasn’t a hint of blame in her voice. Instead, she made it sound like I was the one being a party pooper. Julian glanced at me. Seeing my dark expression, he gave a half-hearted apology. “Fine, fine, my bad, okay?” But then he muttered under his breath, “What’s the big deal anyway? Chloe shares everything with me. She even told me how many positions you guys went through last night.” “Even on your wedding night, she was on a Snapchat group call with us. We heard practically the whole thing!” Though he lowered his voice, the spa was dead silent. Every single word cut through the air and hit my ears clearly. I was shaking with rage. I had never imagined something this disgusting could happen. Sensing the tension, Chloe’s other friends quickly chimed in. “Sorry, man. Julian is always hanging out with us girls. He just has no filter. Don’t take it personally.” “Yeah, Logan. Julian always says he wishes he could be more like you. He really didn’t mean any harm.” Julian didn’t mean any harm? That was the biggest joke I’d ever heard in my life. I ignored them and stared straight at Chloe. “Is that what you think too?” I demanded coldly. She frowned, glared at Julian, and barked, “Keep your mouth shut!” Seeing her stand up for me made me feel slightly better. But a second later, Julian threw a tantrum. “Is this really necessary? I just told the truth. What did I do wrong?” “When we guys hang out, don’t we talk about this stuff too?” He grumbled, playing the victim. Chloe pulled my arm. She said again, “Look, Julian just has a short fuse. He’s like this with everyone. Just let it go, Logan.” Let it go? Why the hell should I let it go? I let out a cold laugh. “I don’t do ‘letting it go,’” I said, my voice freezing over. Before they could even react, I grabbed Julian, shoved his head straight into the water, and ripped his swim trunks clean off. He pushed me away, scrambling to cover his crotch, but it was too late. He was completely exposed. I felt a surge of satisfaction and sneered: “No wonder you can only hang out with girls. With a body like that, you wouldn’t spark a woman’s desire even if the lights were off!” I was only throwing his own medicine back at him. But Julian completely lost his mind and lunged at me. Chloe was faster—she whipped off her own towel and wrapped it around him, hugging him from behind to hold him back. Their bare skin pressed together. They looked like the most intimate couple in the world. I looked away, my heart turning to ice. Yet, Chloe seemed completely oblivious. She was still shouting at me, “If Julian hadn’t been nice enough to invite you, you wouldn’t even be at this resort!” “Apologize to him right now, and we’ll drop it!” “He was just joking, but you literally stripped him naked. Look at you!” “He has a temper, who knows what he’ll do if he stays mad?” I stared at her, feeling nothing but disgust. “Well, guess what? I have a temper too.” I never let myself eat dirt. Since she wanted to play dirty, she could get ready for the consequences. With that, I delivered a sharp kick right between Julian’s legs. Julian doubled over, clutching his crotch, screaming that I was a psychopath. “Doesn’t look that much bigger than mine anyway,” I threw back. I got out of the pool, dressed, and left the resort. I wasn’t going to waste another second on these people. Once outside, I pulled out my phone and called my childhood friend, Harper, who also happened to be a divorce lawyer. “Harper,” I said. “I’m divorcing Chloe.”

Chloe and I met during a game of Truth or Dare at a company dinner. She got my Snapchat and pursued me relentlessly. Slowly, she won me over, and we got together. We dated for two years and had been married for over a year. Nearly four years in total. But before all this, I had no idea she had such a toxic male best friend in her circle. I first found out about Julian on our first wedding anniversary. She said she was going to the restroom to take a call. Instead, she ditched me entirely to deliver condoms to Julian, never returning that night. The next day, we had a massive fight. She deleted him on Snapchat right in front of me and swore she would keep her distance from all men. But less than two months later, she spent the night out again, drinking herself to sleep with him. I tried to tell myself it wasn’t a big deal, but the next morning, I received a photo of them sleeping in the same bed. Chloe cried and begged for my forgiveness immediately. “It was a friend’s birthday party! Everyone was there, I couldn’t just kick him out!” “I drank too much, I have no idea what happened.” “But I swear, I would never betray you. Julian is just like one of the girls to me. Even if he stood naked in front of me, I wouldn’t feel a thing!” Foolishly, I forgave her. But that incident remained a thorn in my side—like swallowing a fly. You can’t digest it, and you can’t throw it up. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me three times? We are done. But Harper was right. Getting a divorce isn’t that simple. If Chloe refused to sign, I would have to sue and present solid proof of her infidelity. I took the day off today, waiting for her to come home so we could negotiate. I never expected them to hand the evidence to me on a silver platter. Chloe practically carried Julian back into our apartment. The moment they walked in, Julian started whining in his passive-aggressive tone. “Logan, you got to play the tough guy yesterday, but do you have any idea how much I’m suffering?” I knew exactly how much. I’ve always been physically strong—I can carry water bottles up ten flights of stairs without breaking a sweat. In my rage, I had kicked him with the intent to ruin his manhood. Did I actually break him? I glanced disgustedly at his crotch. I felt guilty for about half a second before mentally high-fiving myself. Chloe noticed my gaze and snapped, “Logan!” I snapped out of it and was about to bring up the divorce, but Chloe beat me to it. “From now on, I’m going to help Julian with his rehabilitation exercises.” “The doctor said he needs stimulation to recover his function, or he’ll be impotent for the rest of his life!” Wow. That is absolutely fantastic. I suppressed my urge to cheer and asked, acting curious, “Oh really? Did the doctor tell you exactly what you need to do?” “Of course, you—” Before she could finish, I cut her off. “How about this? Why don’t you guys give me a demonstration? I’ll record a video so I can learn.”

Both of them froze. They probably didn’t expect me to be so “supportive.” Julian shot a shy, smug look at Chloe, feigning hesitation. “I don’t know, Chloe. What if Logan gets mad and takes it out on you later?” He was clearly trying to bring up my “violence” from yesterday to fuel her anger. Chloe’s face darkened. “Why should we care? We’re best friends. There’s nothing to be afraid of.” She sat down on the couch and signaled Julian to start, throwing a provocative glare at me. But after a whole night of thinking, she was already dead to me. A woman like her wasn’t worth my anger. I opened my phone camera. Then, Chloe reached her hand right into Julian’s pants. Honestly, it was disgusting. I kept my phone up but looked away, letting my mind wander. I tuned out their giggles and dirty talk. I don’t know how much time passed, but Julian suddenly muttered, “Why is there still no reaction?” He then joked, “Chloe, put some effort into it!” “It’s because you’re useless! Call me mommy and maybe it’ll work!” “Shut up, there’s someone else here!” My lips twitched in disgust. Honestly, compared to these two, I really did feel like an outsider. But he wasn’t wrong. I was divorcing her anyway. Close enough. They soon forgot I was even there, and their actions got bolder. Finally, Chloe pulled her hand back. “I’m tired.” I paused the recording and said dryly, “Well, now I believe you guys are just besties. Otherwise, how could she touch you and feel absolutely nothing?” They had used that excuse on me so many times. But hearing it from my mouth made both of their faces turn pale. Julian snapped in embarrassment: “What do you know? She was always the one pleasing me, not the other way around!” “If I hadn’t trained her and given her experience, you think you’d be having such a good time in bed?” Good time? More like nausea. He stood up, clearly pissed off. “I was nice enough to teach him, and he’s still being a sarcastic jerk. I’m leaving!” He shot me a loaded look. “If you still want my help, Chloe, meet me at our usual spot.” Once Julian left, Chloe glared at me. “Are you satisfied now?” I could tell she was genuinely rattled. Usually, she would try to make up some excuses. Now, she couldn’t even pretend. “He just told the truth. Did you really have to resort to violence?” “And besides, your—” I cut her off. “Chloe, let’s get a divorce.” She froze, staring at me in disbelief. “What did you say?” Before I could repeat myself, she barked, “No way! I don’t agree!” “Fine. If you don’t agree, I’ll file for divorce in court. This video I just recorded will make excellent evidence.”

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My fiancé staged his own death after hiring a hitman, dying in my arms. Since then, I became the widow of a convicted murderer, struggling to survive with our unborn child. I took every dirty, low-paying job imaginable, all to afford the medication for my daughter’s heart disease. On the day she turned three, she had a sudden attack. I collapsed in the hospital hallway, sobbing in absolute despair. That was when I heard Julian’s voice, chatting with another woman nearby. “It’s been three years. Isn’t this a bit too cruel for Chloe? She’s all alone…” My stepsister, Vivian, shrieked in response: “Cruel? She stole my dad’s love! She stole the life that belonged to me for twenty years! I want her to live in guilt forever. I want her to crawl like a rat in the dark, never able to lift her head. Only then will I be satisfied.” After a long silence, Julian sighed and murmured: “Fine. Anything you want. When you feel she has been punished enough, I’ll bring her back.” So, Julian wasn’t dead. All the agony, the starvation, and the terror I went through over the past three years were nothing but a game between them. I slumped against the freezing wall, completely exhausted. Slowly, I reached into my bag and tore every single photo of Julian into tiny pieces. Since they didn’t want me to live in peace, then none of us would.

Today was the third anniversary of his “death.” Three years ago, I wanted to end my life and follow him. But then, I discovered I was pregnant. To keep Julian’s only child alive, I swallowed my tears and forced myself to get through his funeral. I thought Julian’s wealthy family would at least help us, but they kicked me out, calling me a curse who brought death to their son. My own parents thought my unmarried pregnancy was an embarrassment. They completely disowned me. Since that day, my life became a living hell. The families of the hitman’s victims blamed Julian, and they took their anger out on me. They stalked me relentlessly. Every time they cornered me, I would cry and scream the same thing: “Julian is dead! Please, he’s dead!” But they didn’t care. They tried to run me over while I was walking Lily home from preschool. In the dead of night, they splashed blood-red paint on my door, writing “An Eye for an Eye” in giant letters. They even stuffed bloody death threats inside Lily’s favorite teddy bear. Every single day, I lived in constant terror. I moved with my daughter over and over again, but like ghosts, they always found us. On countless nights, I stared at the ceiling, wanting to end it all. But then I would look down at Lily’s sleeping face, bite my tongue, and force myself to keep breathing. Three years. It felt like a lifetime. “Where is the patient’s mother?” Dr. Carter’s voice snapped me back to reality. I bolted upright, stumbling forward, and grabbed the edge of his white coat. “Doctor! How is my daughter?” “She’s out of danger for now,” he said, sighing gently. His tone was firm. “But she needs her medication daily. Not a single day can be missed.” He handed me the hospital bill. My tensed nerves relaxed for a second, but when I saw the total, my heart plummeted. Panic seized me. Dr. Carter was one of the few people who knew my story. He never showed me any malice; instead, he always tried to help us. My lips trembled, but I couldn’t bring myself to speak. He had already done so much for us. I couldn’t beg him for more. Seeing me staring blankly at the bill, Dr. Carter smiled warmly. “Don’t worry about the bill. Someone paid it anonymously.” I was stunned. I couldn’t think of anyone who would pay such a massive amount for us. Suddenly, a crazy memory flashed in my mind. Three years ago, as Julian “died” in my arms, he whispered: *I’ll make sure you’re safe for the rest of your life.* My eyes welled with tears as a wild, ridiculous thought took over. Could he… be alive? Dr. Carter turned to leave. My chest tightened. I rushed forward, my voice shaking. “Dr. Carter! Wait! The person who paid… did you see what they looked like?” He stopped and shook his head regretfully. “I’m not sure. I walked past the billing window earlier and only saw a man and a woman.” A man and a woman?! My fingertips turned ice-cold. He was alive. He was definitely alive. But who was the woman next to him? I lost my mind. I ran through the hospital corridors, searching every corner, but found nothing. Eventually, I collapsed to the floor, crying hysterically. He was alive! He was breathing this same air! But when my daughter was suffocating, when I was begging on the streets for a single dollar, where was he? Why? Why did he never come to find us? “Chloe Miller,” a mocking voice sneered from above. “Look at you. You look like a crazed homeless woman. Where did all your high-class elegance go? Tsk tsk, how pathetic.”

I looked up. It was Vivian. She was staring down at me, her eyes filled with pure, unadulterated malice. “Chloe, seeing you reduced to this… it’s absolutely thrilling!” “Why don’t you take a guess? Why did your precious little daughter suddenly have a heart attack today?” Vivian’s laughter was sharp and piercing. A cold dread washed over me. I froze, and then the realization hit me like a truck. I lunged at her, screaming: “It was you?! You did this to Lily! If you hate me, come at me! Why would you hurt a child?” “I’m warning you, Vivian! If you touch Lily again, I will drag you to hell with me!” Vivian shrugged, completely unfazed. “Chloe, whatever you care about the most, I will destroy. I just hope you and your brat don’t die too quickly. I’m not done playing with you yet.” I remembered what Dr. Carter said and yelled, “Is Julian still alive? Where is he?!” A flicker of panic crossed her face, but she quickly masked it with a smirk. “Isn’t he dead? He died right in your arms, remember? Have you lost your mind?” She turned to walk away. But I was faster. I blocked her path. “You’re not leaving until you tell me the truth.” Vivian laughed mockingly. “Chloe, instead of wasting your time blocking me, you should go back and look at your daughter. Who knows, maybe she…” My heart stopped. I pushed past her and sprinted back to the ICU. Inside the room, the heart monitor was beeping frantically. I screamed for the nurses. When they saw Lily’s condition, they glared at me in shock. “Ms. Miller! Do you want your daughter to die? Why did you unplug her oxygen?!” “She hasn’t even regained consciousness yet! She needs constant care!” “I’ve never seen such an irresponsible mother!” Their words stabbed into my chest, making it hard to breathe. She was my baby. Why would I ever hurt her? It had to be Vivian! She was trying to kill my daughter! I ran out like a madwoman, searching for her, but she had already vanished. With nowhere to vent my rage, I collapsed in the hallway, crying and praying that my daughter would survive. It wasn’t until midnight that Lily finally fluttered her eyes open. Seeing me, her eyes welled up. She reached out a tiny, weak hand and whispered through cracked lips, “Mommy… I’m sorry. I made you worry.” I gently stroked her hair, my voice cracking. “It’s okay, baby. Mommy is here. Just get better.” I dipped a cotton swab in warm water and gently dabbed her dry lips. My tears fell onto the back of her little hand. “Don’t cry, Mommy. Lily is brave…” I forced my tears back and squeezed out a smile. For the next few days, I stopped taking side jobs. I stayed by her bedside every second, reading her favorite fairy tales over and over. Seeing her soft smile was the only peace I had in this world. A week later, I went to fill out the discharge papers. I asked the nurse to watch Lily for a few minutes. But when I returned, I saw Vivian standing right by Lily’s bed. I don’t know what she said, but Lily’s face was deathly pale. “Vivian! What the hell are you doing here?” “You already hurt my daughter once! I won’t let you touch her again!” I violently shoved Vivian away and wrapped my arms around Lily. Vivian immediately put on a sweet, hurt expression. “Chloe, did I do something to upset you? Lily is my niece. Why would I ever hurt her?” “Stop lying!” I screamed. “I heard you! You and Julian have been lying to me this whole time! Stop acting innocent!” Vivian blinked, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Even if we did, what can you do about it? Look at you. You’re a broke loser who can’t even afford your kid’s medical bills. You deserved to be tricked.” The blood rushed to my head. I grabbed Vivian by her hair and slammed her against the wall. But before I could do more, a cold, familiar voice cut through the air. “That’s enough, Chloe. Stop acting like a psycho.” My breathing stopped. I slowly turned my head.

I stared blankly at the man who had been “dead” for three years. Julian Vance. Memories flooded my mind. Julian and I were high school sweethearts. Getting married was supposed to be a natural step. But after Vivian entered our lives as my stepsister, everything changed. Once, Vivian pretended to be close to me in front of Julian. But the second he walked away, she whispered: “I don’t care if he’s your fiancé. If I want him, I’ll take him.” Furious, I slapped her. Vivian screamed hysterically. Julian ran back and saw me hitting her. He immediately pulled me off her and yelled, “Chloe! What is wrong with you? Why are you hurting Vivian?” Julian demanded that I get down on my knees and beg Vivian for forgiveness. When I refused, he threatened to call off the wedding. Seeing him protect her, I lost my mind. I looked him dead in the eye and said: “Julian, I’ll ask you once. Her or me? If you choose her, we are done.” Julian’s face was rigid, but he didn’t stop me from walking away. Instead, he helped Vivian up and muttered, “I’m sorry, Vivian. I’ve spoiled her too much. I’ll make sure she learns her lesson.” I didn’t believe he would actually punish me for Vivian. But I was wrong. Deadly wrong. Three days later, Julian covered himself in fake blood and ran to my apartment, claiming he was being hunted by dangerous cartel members. I begged him to flee the country, but he refused. He said if he left, they would kill me. He said the only way to keep me safe was for him to commit suicide. And then, he looked at me and said: “This is my punishment for you, Chloe. Learn to be obedient. Stop bullying Vivian.” I screamed as he “shot” himself and collapsed in my arms. “No! I don’t accept this punishment! I was wrong! Please don’t leave me!” After that day, my father publicly disowned me to “protect the family reputation.” He announced to the media: “The Miller family only has one daughter, and her name is Vivian!” I became a homeless orphan. I had nothing. No fiancé, no family. All I had left was the baby in my womb. Seeing me standing there like a statue, Vivian used Julian’s blind spot to pinch my arm violently. The sharp pain brought me back to reality. I gasped, shoved her away, and lunged at Julian. I grabbed his expensive collar, screaming at the top of my lungs: “Julian! You’re alive! Why did you fake your death?! Why did you lie to me?!” My voice cracked with pure agony. “Do you have any idea how I lived these past three years?! I thought you were dead!” Before Julian could speak, Vivian shoved me away and shielded him. “Chloe, have you lost your mind? Julian just paid for your daughter’s surgery! How can you be so ungrateful?” My rage boiled over. “She is his daughter! Paying for her is his damn job!” “And who the hell are you to talk to me?!” I grabbed Vivian by the neck and slapped her hard across the face. As I raised my hand to strike again, Julian grabbed my wrist. He squeezed so hard I felt my bones crushing. He stared down at me with cold, detached eyes. Tears streamed down my face, but I refused to look away. Seeing my tears, he finally let go. His tone was filled with arrogant pity. “Now that you know the truth, pack your things and come back with me. You don’t have to live in this dump anymore. I’ll make it up to you.” I ignored him, turned around, and slapped Vivian again. Without a second thought, Julian raised his hand and slapped me back. “Chloe! Have you not had enough?” “Did three years of misery still not teach you how to behave?”

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For five years, every time I passed the bakery on the corner, I bought a donut. I did it solely out of pity for the family who ran the place. But today, my apartment had a power outage. It was the first time I actually sat down inside the shop to eat. That was when I noticed the customer sitting across from me. He had only ordered one single donut, yet his box contained two. With good intentions, I leaned over to remind the owner. “Excuse me, did you accidentally put an extra one in there?” The customer looked at me, completely baffled. “This shop has always served two donuts per order.” My smile vanished. Something was wrong. I had been buying from them for five years, and a single order had always been just one donut. Did they really shortchange me by half all these years? I looked around at the other customers. Sure enough, everyone else had two donuts in their boxes. Just then, the owner’s chubby son came skipping toward me, holding a plastic bag. Toby, the owner’s son, saw me and handed over the packed bag out of habit. “Fiona, yours,” he mumbled, his voice slurred. I took the bag, opened it, and counted the donuts one by one right in front of him. “Toby, I ordered two portions. Is this really all of it?” Toby turned his head to look at his mother, Rachel, who was still standing behind the cash register. Then he turned back to me. “Yeah. That’s exactly what you ordered.” Looking at Toby, I felt a heavy ache in my chest. The only reason I had patronized their shop rain or shine for five years wasn’t because I loved donuts, nor was it because their baking was spectacular. It was pure sympathy. Five years ago, when I first met Toby, he was being bullied by a bunch of neighborhood kids. Later, I found out that a high fever in his childhood had left him with severe cognitive disabilities. I was kind enough to take him home that day, only to discover his father, Robert, was an amputee missing his right arm, while his mother, Rachel, was a dwarf with a severe limp. The family of three was crammed into a tiny studio apartment of barely two hundred square feet. The parents worked all day running the bakery while trying to care for Toby, who couldn’t attend a regular school. I felt so sorry for them. Without a second thought, I used my social media account, which had millions of followers, to promote their shop. Once my followers found out, they flocked to support them. Their business skyrocketed overnight. Coincidentally, the commercial space they rented belonged to my Mike. Every month, I secretly paid half of their rent out of my own pocket. I thought this would help them save up some money and live a better life. Toby tugged at my sleeve, pulling me back from my thoughts. He stared at me with wide, eager eyes. “Fiona, that’s twenty dollars.” I frowned. At that moment, I still hoped it was just some misunderstanding. I kept my voice as soft and gentle as possible. “Toby, I only have two donuts here. Why don’t you ask your mom if there’s a mistake?” Hearing this, Rachel hobbled over. “Eating in the shop today, Fiona?” I wasn’t in the mood to chat. I just wanted to know if this was a mistake, or… I glanced at the customer’s donuts across from me and asked, “Rachel, I have two donuts here. How much does it cost?” Rachel glanced at the plastic bag in my hand. Suddenly, she pulled me aside, a fake, flattering smile plastered on her face. “You ordered the same as usual, didn’t you?” Then, acting all mysterious, she lowered her voice and whispered in my ear, “Since you come every day, of course I give you a discount. Usually, it’s ten dollars a portion, but today I’ll charge you eight. Sixteen dollars total, okay?” “Just… don’t tell the other customers. You know how hard it is for us to make a living!” I took a deep breath. I looked away from the other customer’s double-sized portions, scanned my Apple Pay to make the payment, and walked out in a hurry. The shop was right beneath my apartment building, just a few steps from the community entrance. I decided right then that I would simply never shop there again. But before I could walk very far, Toby came chasing after me. His chubby face was red, and he blocked my path, shouting at the top of his lungs, “Fiona! Why are you leaving without paying?!”

“Without paying?” I stopped in my tracks, staring at the panting boy in utter disbelief. “Toby, I already paid. Think about it again.” Toby’s face turned bright red. His chubby little hands gripped my coat tightly, and he cried out, “Fiona, it’s twenty dollars! You only paid ten! You shortchanged us by half!” I glanced back at the bakery. Rachel saw me looking and immediately lowered her head, her eyes shifting guiltily. It was obvious she was the one who sent Toby after me. A surge of anger flared up inside me. But Toby… he was just a kid with special needs. His parents’ greed wasn’t his fault, and he probably didn’t understand. I knelt down to his eye level, keeping my tone as calm as possible. “Toby, I only have two donuts. That costs ten dollars. I didn’t shortchange you, and I definitely paid.” As I spoke, I pulled out my phone and showed him the Apple Pay transaction screen. But Toby only cried louder, screaming, “My mom said yours costs twenty! You didn’t pay enough!” While yelling, he began violently grabbing at my designer purse. I froze. Along with the anger, a deep, bitter sadness washed over me. Over the years, because I pitied him, I had bought him countless toys and snacks. I even gave him pocket money, a hundred dollars at a time. I thought if I reasoned with him, he would let go. I never expected him to be so viciously persistent over twenty dollars. And then, it hit me. Only my order was “twenty dollars.” But why? For five years, I had done so much for them. And this was how they repaid me? By charging me double? My face went cold as I snatched my bag back, refusing to argue with this unreasonable child any longer. “Toby, go back and tell your mother that I only have two donuts. She knows exactly what that means.” Toby didn’t care about my explanation. He threw himself onto the pavement, kicking and screaming in a full-blown tantrum. “My mom is right! You rich people look down on us! You’re stealing money from disabled people!” “My dad said you always take extra bags too! You’re deliberately bullying us!” “Our family has no money! Give it back!” Passersby began to stop, casting judgmental glances at us and whispering among themselves. I felt my face burning with embarrassment. In the eyes of the crowd, Toby was clearly the vulnerable one. It looked like a wealthy girl was bullying a disabled kid. My neighbor, Marisa, saw the commotion and rushed over. She pulled Toby up, her face twisted in exaggerated sympathy. “Oh, poor thing! Aren’t you the sweet boy from the bakery? How awful.” She then glared up at me. “You’re dressed in head-to-toe designer clothes, yet you’re out here bullying a disabled child? Have you no shame?!” I let out a cold laugh. Ever since I filed a noise complaint against her with the HOA, Marisa had been looking for any excuse to stab me in the back. I unzipped my plastic bag and pointed it toward the bakery. “Look closely, Marisa. There are only two donuts here. I paid ten dollars, which is the exact price. Not a penny less!” “You’d better open your eyes before you start twisting the truth!” Marisa peeked into the bag and hesitated for a second, but quickly recovered her smirk. “Who knows how many you actually took when you bought them? A kid wouldn’t lie about this!” “Honestly, with all those luxury brands you wear, I bet you scammed your way into them anyway!” The moment she said that, the surrounding crowd started pointing fingers at me. “Oh, come on, just give them the money. That family has it so hard. Just consider it charity.” “The kid is practically begging you. It’s just ten bucks, it’s nothing to you.” “Yeah, you live in this luxury high-rise. Ten dollars is pocket change for you.” Hearing the crowd turn on me, Marisa raised her chin in triumph. I was so angry I wanted to laugh. Since she wanted to play dirty, I wasn’t going to hold back. I looked her dead in the eye and said slowly, “Whether I lied or stole, the owner knows the truth. But as for you, Marisa, where did those expensive boots of yours come from? Were they a gift from the guy who snuck out of your apartment yesterday morning? Or the different one from the night before?”

“You! What lies are you spreading?!” Marisa’s voice dropped instantly, her face turning pale. As a beauty influencer, streaming late into the night was part of my routine. That was how I constantly saw different men coming and going from Marisa’s place at ungodly hours. I pulled out my phone and opened the app for my smart doorbell. “You might not know this, but I bought both penthouse units on the twelfth floor and knocked the wall down to make a massive loft. So, I had high-res security cameras installed all over the hallway.” “I wonder if those older gentlemen take the stairs instead of the elevator just to avoid being seen?” Marisa’s face turned from pale to crimson. She lunged forward to grab my phone, but I easily stepped aside. I didn’t hold back my anger anymore, raising my voice so the whole street could hear. “If you dare spread rumors about me again, I will make sure your ‘sugar daddies’ go viral on TikTok!” Marisa swallowed hard, let go of Toby, and scurried away, muttering curses under her breath. Toby finally remembered why he was there. While I was distracted, he suddenly shoved me hard from behind. I fell to the ground, and my purse flew open. A diamond bracelet, a limited-edition birthday gift from my parents, slid out onto the concrete. Toby’s eyes lit up. He immediately snatched it and hugged it to his chest. “Fiona, I want this!” Before I could grab it back, his parents pushed through the crowd. Seeing Toby on the ground, Rachel instantly wailed, “Oh, my sweet Toby! Bullying you again! I’m such a useless mother, I can’t even protect my own boy!” Robert, the father, glared at me with his one good arm resting on his hip. “Look, miss, you’re a regular customer. I won’t hold this against you this time, but I expect you to pay what you owe next time.” I pointed at the bracelet in Toby’s arms. “That is my bracelet. Give it back to me right now!” Rachel took a closer look at what Toby was holding. Instantly, she shielded him behind her back. “What bracelet? I don’t see anything!” Furious, I unlocked my phone. “I’m calling 911. Let’s see what the police have to say!” Robert lunged and snatched my phone. Despite his physical condition, he was surprisingly strong and aggressive. He roared in my face, “What do you think you’re doing?! You’re the one trying to steal from us, and now you’re calling the cops?!” I crossed my arms and looked coldly at Toby, who was hiding behind his mother. “That bracelet is a limited-edition piece worth eighty thousand dollars. If there is a single scratch on it, your family won’t be able to pay for it even if you sell your entire shop.” Rachel’s eyes widened. She stared at the shiny object in Toby’s hands. Suddenly, Toby shoved the diamond bracelet into his mouth, slobbering all over it, and mumbled, “You always give me toys! I just want this one! Why are you so greedy?! It’s mine!” Watching my pristine, unworn bracelet get covered in drool made my stomach turn. Seeing my disgust, Robert snatched the bracelet out of Toby’s mouth and threw it onto the dirty pavement. “What is this cheap glass trash?! Trying to scam us?!” “Pay us for the donuts!” Rachel seized the opportunity to drop to her knees. She grabbed my legs tightly, wailing even louder, “Everyone, look! She lives in a luxury penthouse, but she’s robbing disabled people of their hard-earned money!” The crowd of onlookers grew larger. As a public figure online, I couldn’t afford a massive public scandal. I clenched my jaw, pulled out my spare phone, and scanned their Venmo QR code. The amount of money was nothing to me, and it certainly wouldn’t make them rich. But from this moment on, they were dead to me. I shoved the payment confirmation screen in Rachel’s face. “Are you happy now?!” Seeing that I had given in, Rachel thought she had successfully manipulated me. Her crying stopped instantly. “Only ten dollars, miss? Is our dignity as disabled people worth so little to you?” “You always order takeout, and we never charged you a packaging fee over the last five years. How are you going to pay for that?” “The boxes we use are food-grade eco-friendly paper. They are very expensive!” It turned out that when you reach a certain level of anger, you actually start to laugh. I looked at this greedy family of three. Controlling my rage, I asked, “So, what exactly do you want?” Rachel jumped to her feet and yelled, “One dollar per bag! I don’t care to count the past five years. Just give us five hundred dollars!” Five hundred dollars? I turned to the surrounding neighbors. “I have supported their business for five years. I came almost every day, and they shorted me half of my order every single time. That means I overpaid by ten dollars every single day. Tell me, how are they going to compensate me for that?” Robert stomped his dirty shoe right onto my diamond bracelet, crushing it against the concrete. “How can you prove we shorted you?!” “Maybe we made a mistake today, but you can’t just accuse us of doing it every day just because we are easy targets!” “Missing a donut won’t kill you anyway!” Seeing that I didn’t back down, the three of them sat back on the ground and began crying again. “The rich are abusing the poor!” “Have mercy on us disabled folks! Life is too hard!” I took a deep breath, refusing to waste another second arguing with them. I scanned the code, transferred the five hundred dollars, used a thick layer of tissues to pick up my ruined bracelet from the ground, and walked away without looking back. As soon as I got up to my loft, I called my uncle, Mike. “Mike, that bakery under my building, I won’t be covering part of their rent anymore. Also, don’t give them any more discounts. Charge them the full rate.” “And please contact Attorney Davis for me. I need an official appraisal of the damage to my diamond bracelet.” That five hundred dollars, and everything else they took from me, I was going to make sure they paid it back tenfold.

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My husband didn’t love me, and he loved our child even less. The day our son was born, he didn’t even spare him a glance before coldly tossing him into my arms. Later, his first love, the woman who broke his heart, returned to the country. For the first time, this notoriously cold man got completely wasted. With a rare, warm smile, he pulled our son into a tight embrace. My son, surprised and thrilled, wrapped his tiny arms around the man’s neck. Then, he turned to me and whispered: “Mom, what’s wrong with Uncle?” Yes. Because my husband didn’t love our son, he never allowed him to call him “Dad.” For seven years, our son could only call him Uncle. I knelt down, pulling my boy into my arms, my eyes burning with tears. “Uncle’s favorite person came back, so we shouldn’t keep bothering him. We’re going to move out, sweetie.” After tucking my son into bed, I went to the guest bedroom, opened my laptop, and started drafting a divorce agreement. This year was the seventh anniversary of my marriage to Ethan Vance. It was also the seventh year we had slept in separate rooms. Now, I was finally ready to let him go. Knock, knock. The door creaked open, and my seven-year-old son, Leo, walked in, clutching a model airplane. “Mom, are we really leaving?” He looked up at me, his eyes filled with reluctance. “But daddy hugged me tonight. Does that mean… he’s finally starting to like me?” I froze, my mind drifting back in a daze. In our seven years of marriage, Ethan had never allowed Leo to call him “Dad.” When Leo was two, Ethan took him to the supermarket. On the way back, they ran into an acquaintance. Because Leo accidentally babbled the word “Daddy,” Ethan immediately set the toddler down on the sidewalk and walked ahead, forcing the barely walking boy to follow him all the way home. By the time they reached the house, Leo had fallen countless times. His knees and palms were completely scraped and bleeding. When Leo was four, he begged for months until Ethan finally agreed to take him to an amusement park. But again, because Leo let slip a careless “Daddy,” Ethan let go of his small hand. He left a four-year-old child to get lost in the massive crowd. By the time I found him, Leo was hiding inside a thorny bush, sobbing so hard he could barely breathe from the lack of oxygen. Since then, Leo learned to call him Ethan. And our “family” became a complete joke. The memory made my throat tight. I couldn’t help but pull my son into a tight hug. “Leo, the person Ethan loves is back. We can’t stay in this house anymore.” Leo’s eyes dimmed. But then, he quickly lifted the model airplane, holding it out to me. “But Mom, daddy gave me this gift tonight. If he doesn’t like me, why would he buy me a toy?” His voice was so desperate, so eager to prove that he was a child loved by his father. My mouth opened, but no words came out. How could I tell him? What was I supposed to say? Should I tell him that Ethan was only happy because his ex-fiancée was coming back? Or should I tell him that this toy was just a leftover piece of affection meant for another woman? I couldn’t say it. I could only swallow the bitterness in my throat. Just like before, I chose to paint a beautiful lie to protect my child’s fragile heart. I kissed Leo’s forehead, secretly wiping away the tear that slipped down my cheek. This was a mother’s instinct—to protect her child’s dreams, even when her own heart was shattering. Suppressing a sob, I forced a smile. “Leo, if Mom wants to take you far away from daddy, would you come with me?” My son’s body went rigid. He whispered, “Do we have to go?” “I still haven’t… I still haven’t called him Dad in front of everyone…” My tears finally spilled over. I bit my lip hard. “Leo, Ethan… he doesn’t want us in his house anymore.” “Let Mom take you away, okay?” Leo pulled his hand back, hugging the model airplane tightly to his chest. After a long silence, he spoke. “I want to give uncle three more chances. If… if he really doesn’t like us, we will leave him forever.” Closing my eyes, I agreed to my son’s request. “Okay.” Ethan Vance, my son and I will give you three more chances. After that. There will never be a place for you in our lives again.

It was Friday, the day Ethan’s first love, Evelyn Ward, returned to the country. They were college sweethearts and had gotten engaged right after graduation. But just a month before their wedding, Evelyn fell head over heels for a French man she met at an art gallery. She abandoned Ethan without a second thought, flying to France to pursue her “true love.” And just like that, they parted ways. Ethan was devastated and fell into a deep depression for a long time. It was during that dark period that I became his executive assistant. One night, after too many drinks, we ended up in bed. I got pregnant. I became his secret wife, and because of that, both I and my child were deeply resented by him. After printing out the divorce agreement I had drafted yesterday, I started writing my resignation letter. Unlike my son, I was used to Ethan’s coldness. I was no longer foolish enough to wait for a heartless man to suddenly change his mind. Seven years was more than enough to crush all my fairy-tale illusions. “Chloe, are you really resigning?” My coworker, Sarah, glanced at my screen and whispered in shock. I smiled faintly, using the excuse I had prepared beforehand. “Yeah. My husband is working abroad. I’m planning to take Leo and join him. It’s time for our family to be together.” Sarah nodded understandingly. “That makes sense. It’s been so hard on you raising a kid alone here.” “To be honest, we all secretly thought you were a single mom.” Hearing that, I couldn’t help but chuckle. But the laugh was bitter. I wasn’t a single mom, yet my life was worse than one. My eyes started to sting, but I quickly put on my practiced, professional smile, refusing to let anyone see my pain. Right after I submitted my resignation, Ethan walked into the office, accompanied by Evelyn. The woman walked ahead, a sweet, elegant smile on her face. Ethan followed closely behind her, his eyes locked onto her, unable to look away for even a second. Sarah nudged me, whispering, “Chloe, look at that. Our cold boss is finally showing some emotion. The ice king has melted.” I forced a tight smile, though a storm was raging in my chest. Even the coldest winter eventually turns to spring. But for Ethan… Even if I waited a lifetime, I would never get him to look at me that way. As they walked past my desk, I couldn’t stop myself from calling out. “Eth—” Just as the first syllable left my lips, Ethan shot me a freezing glare. “Ms. Carter, is there something you need?” His tone was detached and carried a sharp warning. He was warning me to shut my mouth. Warning me to remember my place as a mere assistant. I lowered my eyes, using every ounce of strength to hold back my tears. “My apologies, Mr. Vance.” Ethan gave a curt nod and immediately turned his attention back to Evelyn, as if she were his entire world. He was my husband. The father of my child. Yet, right in front of me, he made no effort to hide his deep devotion to another woman. It was humiliating, but it was also a wake-up call. I laughed at myself. Originally, I wanted to tell him in person that I was resigning. Now, it seemed there was no need. After all, he never cared. He didn’t care about my feelings, he didn’t care about our son. And he certainly didn’t care about this marriage, which existed only on paper. Back at my desk, my phone buzzed. It was a FaceTime call from my son’s smartwatch. “Mom, there’s a parent-teacher conference tonight, so we’re getting dismissed early.” “Marcus is driving me to your office now.” I blinked, instinctively getting up to walk to the lobby. But as I stepped out, I saw Ethan gently reaching out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind Evelyn’s ear. And not far from them stood my son, carrying his heavy backpack. The tiny boy stood by the elevator doors, staring blankly as his father tenderly interacted with a strange woman. That gentleness, that patience… Neither I nor my son had ever received it. Just as I was about to rush over and pull Leo away, Ethan noticed him. Ethan’s body went stiff, and he quickly pulled his hand back. But in the next second, he shielded Evelyn and walked right past Leo with steady, cold steps. He acted as if he didn’t even know his own son. My heart ached fiercely. I rushed over, grabbed Leo’s hand, and led him back to my desk. Before I could even think of an explanation, Leo’s eyes filled with tears. He looked up at me. “Mom, is that the woman uncle Ethan loves?” At that moment, I lost all strength to speak. I could only nod through my tears. Leo didn’t ask anything else. He quietly sat down and pulled out his homework to write. But his tears kept falling, soaking the paper. I held him tight. He was my entire world. Ethan, you have two chances left before we walk away.

After packing my things, Leo and I headed home. On the way, Leo asked me quietly, “Mom, can uncle come to the parent-teacher conference tonight?” In seven years, Ethan had never attended a single school event for Leo. Looking at my son’s hopeful eyes, I didn’t have the heart to refuse. I pulled out my phone and sent Ethan a Snapchat message. [Leo has a parent-teacher conference tonight. Are you free?] The message was sent. And just like always, it was met with silence. Leo lowered his head, clutching his backpack. “He’s not coming, is he?” Then, he forced a mature, understanding smile. “It’s okay. He is a busy CEO. I understand.” Hearing his polite, too-mature words, I felt as if a heavy boulder was crushing my chest. The pain made it hard to breathe. Just as I was about to comfort him, my phone buzzed. It was a reply from Ethan. [I’m free. I’ll be there.] A surge of joy rushed through me. I instantly shoved the phone in front of Leo’s face. “Leo, look! Your dad said he’s coming!” Leo gasped, and a brilliant, radiant smile lit up his face. This was the first time in seven years that Ethan had agreed to show up for him. With Ethan’s promise, Leo was ecstatic the entire way home. He chirped happily, telling me how many times the teacher had praised him this semester, how many straight A’s he got, and how many certificates he had won. He even told me he had been elected class president, and the teacher was going to officially announce it tonight. At that, Leo looked up at me eagerly. “Mom, once uncle knows how good I am at school, he’ll like me more, right?” I froze, my heart aching even more. I silently prayed that Ethan wouldn’t break his promise. Before we left this place, I wanted my son to have his wish fulfilled, even if it was just a temporary illusion. The clock ticked away, and the time for the meeting drew closer. But Ethan still hadn’t shown up. Meanwhile, Evelyn’s Instagram updated. In the photo, Ethan was sitting next to a young boy, patiently teaching him how to build a Lego set. The caption read: [The perfect future dad. ] I turned my head to look at the living room. My seven-year-old son was sitting quietly on the carpet, playing with his toys. It was the exact same Lego set, with a boy of the exact same age who also needed his father’s company. But Leo had never had Ethan by his side. Sensing my gaze, Leo seemed to realize something. He asked cautiously, “Mom, is Ethan busy again?” I stared into my son’s innocent eyes, unable to bring myself to tell him the truth. Your father isn’t busy. He’s just busy being a dad to another woman’s child. I couldn’t say it. I could only pull him into my arms and whisper, “It’s okay, baby. You have Mom. Mom will always be with you.” Leo didn’t ask further, but his eyes turned red. On the way to school, we both tacitly avoided mentioning Ethan’s name. It was as if he had never promised to come, and as if our family had always consisted of just the two of us. Ethan, you have one last chance.

After parking the car, I walked into the school holding Leo’s hand. But the moment we stepped into the classroom, I froze. “Uncle?” “Dad?” Ethan was sitting by the window. Hearing our voices, he looked up, his eyes widening in shock. “What are you guys doing here?” His genuine surprise made my heart sink. A terrible dread washed over me. Leo had been at this school for six months, but Ethan didn’t even know which grade or classroom he was in. Leo, however, didn’t notice the coldness. He ran over excitedly. “Dad, you—” Ethan frowned. “What did you just call me?” Leo’s smile instantly vanished. He quickly corrected himself, a practiced numbness on his face. “Uncle Ethan. You’re sitting in the wrong seat. My desk is in the front row.” He still looked at Ethan with hope. This was the first time Ethan had ever come to his school. He thought Ethan had kept his promise to him. But before his excitement could last, Ethan looked away, avoiding his gaze. “I’m not in the wrong seat. This is where I’m supposed to sit.” Leo was stunned. Before he could speak, a small figure rushed over and shoved Leo aside. “Get away from him! He’s my dad!” Out of pure motherly instinct, I rushed forward and pulled Leo into my arms. Ethan stood up quickly, but when his eyes met Evelyn’s surprised gaze, he froze. Pulling his hands back, he shielded the other boy, Toby, behind him and said stiffly, “Toby didn’t mean it. I apologize on his behalf.” Both Leo and I were stunned. That kind of protection, that kind of care… Leo had never received a single ounce of it. “Who is he?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. Ethan looked at me, a brief flash of guilt crossing his eyes. “A friend’s kid.” “Is that so?” I murmured, though my heart already knew the truth. This was the boy from Evelyn’s Instagram post. The boy Ethan was willing to spend his precious time with. Sure enough, Evelyn walked in holding a bottle of water. She gasped when she saw us. “Chloe? You’re here for the school open house too?” “Where’s your husband? Why isn’t he with you?” Hearing her question, I instinctively looked at Ethan. He quickly shifted his gaze, refusing to make eye contact. I understood. He was terrified I would expose our marriage in front of Evelyn. In a daze, my mind drifted back to the night Evelyn returned. That night, the cold, emotionless billionaire got drunk for the first time. And for the first time, when Leo called him “Daddy,” Ethan had smiled. Leo and I thought we were finally going to have a happy family. But in the next second, Ethan mumbled Evelyn’s name in his sleep. He had only hugged Leo because he mistook him for someone else. My grip on Leo’s hand tightened. Just as I was about to speak, Leo beat me to it. “My dad is working in another country. He’s very busy, and I don’t want to bother him.” His words left both Ethan and Evelyn speechless. I looked down in disbelief, only to see Leo’s eyes pooling with tears. He looked at Ethan and forced a polite, distant smile. “We should go, sir. Have a good night.” An overwhelming sadness blocked my chest. As we turned to leave, Ethan suddenly reached out and grabbed my wrist. “What did Leo just say?” Ethan asked, his voice trembling as if he was trying to confirm what he just heard. Was he shocked because the child who used to cling to him desperately was now actively pushing him away? I pulled my hand back, feeling nothing but cold irony. “Nothing, Mr. Vance. The meeting is about to start.” I broke free from his grip and led Leo to our seats in the front row. Even after sitting down, I could feel his burning gaze on our backs. But no matter how intense that gaze was, it could never warm a heart that had already turned to ice.

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I took on the school’s notorious playboy, Ashton Sterling. Everyone in high school thought I was head over heels in love with him. When he skipped classes and got into street fights, I was the one who took perfect notes and covered for his absences. When he flirted with other girls, I acted as his alibi. For three long years, I was his ultimate doormat. I poured my blood, sweat, and tears into tutoring that lazy rich kid, eventually getting him accepted into Yale. But right before college started, he dumped me. He looked down at me from his pedestal and said, “Chloe, I know you’ve liked me for a long time. But your entire life is just studying. Compared to Hailey, you’re just too boring and rigid. Let’s break up. I’m with Hailey now.” Everyone was waiting to see me break down and cry. I glanced at my phone screen, looking at the notification of the extra $5 million that had just been wired to my bank account. With absolute sincerity, I replied, “Okay. Congratulations.” Nobody knew that the only reason I had tolerated being his loyal puppy was because his mother, Victoria Sterling, simply paid too much. Now that the money was safely in my account, it was time for me to disappear. 1 “She actually just said ‘congratulations’ after being dumped by the hottest guy in school?!” “She hung up the phone in less than a minute. So cold. Did she lose her mind from heartbreak?” “Doesn’t look like it. She was too calm. Honestly, it looked more like she’d been waiting for this breakup forever.” At those words, someone carefully glanced at Ashton. He was holding his new girlfriend, Hailey, but his handsome face was incredibly dark and furious. The classmate quickly changed his tune. “Come on, we all saw how much Chloe worshipped Ashton over the years. There’s no way she doesn’t care. She must be crying her eyes out in private!” “I bet you within three days, she’ll come crawling back, begging Ashton not to leave her!” Ashton’s expression softened slightly at that. “If she comes back and begs, I might consider forgiving her. Let’s see what she does.” I knew nothing about their gossip as I dragged my suitcase toward the train station. Even if I had heard their mockery, I would have only given them a cold, indifferent smile. If it weren’t for my abusive, debt-ridden parents who believed a girl’s education was useless and tried to force me to marry a fifty-year-old local creditor to clear their gambling debts… If it weren’t for the fact that my drunken father had torn my college acceptance letter to shreds and beaten me half to death, right before Ashton’s wealthy mother found me and offered me a deal— As long as I could get her rebellious, failing son into an Ivy League school, she would not only cover my high school tuition but also give me five million dollars upon his acceptance… I would have never chased after a toxic bad boy like Ashton, acting like a loyal, tireless dog at his beck and call. For three whole years. I used every method possible to turn this arrogant slacker into a straight-A student, successfully securing his spot at Yale. Now that the mission was accomplished, I finally had the money to escape. I was too busy celebrating. Why on earth would I waste a single tear over him getting a new girlfriend? From beginning to end, all I wanted was to crawl out of the hellish environment of my childhood and claim a life of my own. Love was never part of the equation. When the college semester started, I didn’t show up at the local university. My parents would have hunted me down there. After all, a daughter with a bright future was a valuable asset they could still sell. If I wanted to leave, I had to make a clean break. During the three months of summer break, I passed my advanced French exams with flying colors. I successfully secured my student visa and admission to a top design school in Paris. Just as I was about to board my flight to Paris, a text from Ashton popped up on my phone. “Why did you block me on Snapchat?” “Chloe, have you not thrown your tantrum long enough this summer? Even if Hailey and I are dating, we can still be friends. Stop being dramatic and unblock me.” Every word still carried that same insufferable, condescending tone. He was entirely convinced that, just like the past three years, no matter how much he trampled on my feelings, I would eventually wag my tail and run back to him. I pulled the SIM card out of my phone, snapped it in half, and casually tossed it into the airport trash can. Along with that card, I threw away all the humility, calculation, and painful memories of my past. The plane pierced through the clouds, leaving my old life far behind. 2 Later, a high school friend told me that Ashton had been spamming my old social media accounts with comments. They were all variations of: “Are you done throwing a fit yet?” “It’s just a relationship. Is it really worth being this angry?” “Add me back right now!” She said, “At first, Ashton was so sure you’d come crawling back. When you didn’t, he started losing his mind. Now, his face turns pitch black whenever someone even mentions your name.” Listening to this was like hearing a story about a stranger. It didn’t trigger a single emotion in me. Using the five million dollars from Mrs. Sterling, I started fresh in Paris. I enrolled in the prestigious Paris College of Art. The language barrier, the cultural adjustments, the intense coursework… Everything was a challenge. But there was no Ashton to please, no suffocating family to escape. There were only sketchbooks, blue-prints, and an endless horizon of hope. A few years passed in the blink of an eye. With hard work and a bit of talent, my jewelry designs began making waves at major fashion weeks, landing me several prestigious international awards. Eventually, I was appointed as the Chief Designer for Lumina, a rising luxury brand, and was sent back to the States to lead our expansion in the North American market. On my first day back in New York. I was grabbing lunch at a café downstairs from our corporate office when a hesitant voice sounded behind me. “Chloe? Is that you?” I turned around and saw a vaguely familiar face. It was Maya Taylor, a girl who used to sit in front of me in high school. Her eyes widened as she took me in, her face a mix of awe and sheer disbelief. “Oh my god! It really is you! You’ve changed so much!” The timid, insecure girl who used to try too hard to please everyone was gone. Time and experience had given me a quiet, elegant confidence. “Hey, Maya. Long time no see.” “I can’t believe it! What a coincidence!” Maya was ecstatic. “We actually have a high school reunion tonight! It’s right upstairs at the Penthouse Lounge. A bunch of people from our year are coming, including Ashton! You have to come! Nobody is going to recognize you!” Ashton? That name felt like a distant echo from another lifetime. It hadn’t crossed my mind in years. I wanted to decline, but then I thought—there was really no need to hide. “Sure,” I replied. I spent the rest of the day buried in corporate meetings and market reports, completely losing track of time. By the time I remembered the reunion, it was already late. Too lazy to go back to my hotel to change, I went straight up to the Penthouse Lounge in my casual business clothes. When I pushed open the heavy glass doors, the loud chatter and laughter of the party washed over me. The private lounge was spacious, and a large group was gathered around a lavish table. My eyes instinctively swept across the room and instantly locked onto the man sitting at the center of the crowd. Ashton Sterling. He looked more mature than he did in high school. His jawline was sharper, and he wore an expensive designer blazer, leaning back in his seat with that same lazy, arrogant posture. He was always the center of attention. Sitting close next to him was a beautiful young woman with heavy makeup and flashy clothes. But she wasn’t Hailey. I guess his taste in girls hadn’t changed, only the faces had. After a brief moment of silence, a guy who had clearly had too much to drink recognized me. “Holy crap! Look! Ashton! Your old simp, Chloe, is here!” That shout instantly turned every eye in the room toward me. The mocking chatter stopped, and a wave of judgmental, amused stares locked onto me. Ashton snapped his head up. When he saw me standing at the door, his pupils dilated in shock. His smug, relaxed expression instantly froze, replaced by raw shock and a wave of complicated emotions. The girl beside him immediately sensed his tension. She tightened her grip on his arm, throwing me a hostile, calculating look. “Chloe?” 3 I completely ignored the whispers and the stares. Walking straight over to an empty seat next to Maya, I sat down and calmly poured myself a glass of water. “Well, Chloe, it’s been a while,” Vanessa Jenkins, a girl dressed in a flashy designer dress, spoke up first. “I heard you dropped out of college back then? Honestly, it makes sense. With your family background, how could they ever afford tuition?” “Where have you been working all these years? Please don’t tell me you ended up marrying some old sugar daddy like people rumored. I mean, looking at your outfit today… it’s pretty casual.” She put a nasty emphasis on “sugar daddy,” causing a few girls around her to giggle behind their hands. “I’ve been living abroad for a few years. Just got back,” I replied smoothly, keeping my tone indifferent. “Ah, living abroad!” Hunter Miller, another classmate, chimed in with a mockingly sympathetic tone. “But it’s tough for expats these days, right? You might get away with some sketchy jobs over there, but that stuff is illegal here. Since we were classmates, let us know if you need help. Do you have a job yet? We could hook you up.” “My uncle’s firm is looking for a receptionist. No experience needed, just basic computer skills. The pay isn’t great, but hey, it’s honest work. Better than whatever you were doing…” He trailed off, his implication crystal clear. “Exactly,” Vanessa chimed in with a fake, sweet smile. “Western guys might love exotic girls, but let’s be real, they only use them for fun.” “Chloe, we’re your old friends. If you’re struggling, just say the word.” “With your background… I mean, since you never went to college and clearly don’t own any nice clothes, you’ll never pass a decent interview. How about I take you shopping sometime? I can lend you some cash. You used to be the top student, it’s honestly a pity to see you end up like this.” Ashton remained silent. But his hand clenched tightly around his whiskey glass, his dark eyes burning into me. The new girlfriend next to him, Tiffany Thorne, finally couldn’t take it anymore. With a patronizing sneer, she leaned forward, looking down at me with pure disdain. “So you’re Chloe? Yeah, I’ve heard of you.” “Weren’t you the pathetic little doormat who used to chase my Ashton around?” “Doing his homework, taking his notes, lying to his teachers?” “Must have been exhausting.” She paused, clearly enjoying the amused looks of the crowd. “But at least you had some self-awareness. You knew someone like you could never match a Sterling, so you ran away. But it looks like life hasn’t been kind to you since.” “Just so you know, Ashton is now the vice president of Sterling Enterprises. And me? I just took over my family’s fashion line, and we’re currently in talks for a major collaboration with a top global luxury brand. If you’re really desperate, maybe we can find some crumbs for you.” I took a sip of my water. “No, thank you.” Tiffany rolled her eyes at my response, her tone turning even more boastful. “You probably don’t even know what kind of level I’m talking about. Have you heard of Lumina? The French high-end jewelry brand?” “Their Chief Designer is an absolute genius who won multiple international awards in Paris. She’s incredibly exclusive. I had to pull a million strings just to get an introductory meeting with her. If she agrees to design a capsule collection for my brand, it will completely shake up the fashion industry.” “Once that deal goes through, a single word from me could change your entire life.” The table erupted into gasps and flattery. “Oh my god, Lumina! Their designs are stunning!” “I heard their chief designer is extremely picky. Ordinary brands don’t even get a reply!” “Tiffany, your connections are insane! To be able to book someone of that caliber… Only a woman like you is fit to stand next to Ashton!” Tiffany lifted her chin proudly, soaking in the praise. I looked at her, unable to hold back a soft chuckle. 4 She was putting on quite a show. “What’s the designer’s name? She sounds legendary,” someone asked curiously. “She goes by the name Eileen,” Tiffany said, continuing to oversell her connection. “She’s young but incredibly talented, and she has massive influence in Europe. It’s not easy for a brand of our size to get her attention, but I’m confident I can make it happen.” She leaned affectionately against Ashton. “Right, babe?” Ashton gave a distracted, “Yeah.” His eyes were still glued to my face, filled with a mix of resentment and pride, refusing to speak a word directly to me. Seeing this, the others continued to tear me down to boost Tiffany’s ego. But I simply held my glass, completely unbothered. Just then, the glass door of the lounge was gently knocked open. A young woman in a smart business suit, holding a thick stack of folders, stepped in with an anxious but respectful expression. “Ms. Thorne, I’m so sorry to interrupt.” “I brought the urgent files you requested for the Lumina project. Also, about the designer…” Hearing this, Tiffany immediately stood up. “What about her? Did she reply? Did she agree to meet me?” Her voice was trembling with excitement. The young assistant nodded. “I actually met her today. But her schedule was packed tonight, so she scheduled a meeting with us for tomorrow morning.” Hearing her assistant confirm the meeting with the mysterious designer, Tiffany’s face lit up with a victorious smile. “Perfect!” She turned to Ashton, her eyes sparkling with pride. “See, Ashton? I told you I could do it! I’ll seal the deal tomorrow!” The classmates immediately showered her with more praise. “Tiffany, you are truly amazing!” “We’ll all be looking up to you from now on, Ms. Thorne!” “Ashton is so lucky to have such a powerful partner!” Amidst the endless flattery, Tiffany’s vanity reached its peak. She cast a dismissive glance toward me, sitting quietly in the corner. “By the way, Amy, do we have any entry-level openings in our company? Like… janitorial staff?” She paused, pointing her gaze directly at me. “This classmate here, Chloe, used to help my boyfriend a lot in high school.” “I heard she’s currently unemployed. Since we’re all old friends, I’d love to help her secure a stable job. Think of it as charity.” The room went dead silent for a second before erupting into even louder laughter. “Oh, Tiffany, you’re too kind! But honestly, you shouldn’t get involved with someone like her, especially with her family. They’re toxic!” “Seriously! You guys don’t know, but after she vanished back then, her parents came to the school and caused a massive scene! They were screaming, crying, and rolling on the floor of the dean’s office, claiming the school kidnapped their daughter! They even brought local reporters! It was so embarrassing!” “Exactly! Her entire family is insane. Tiffany, your company is just starting to take off. If her crazy parents start showing up at your office to demand money, you’ll be ruined!” Hearing this, Tiffany put on a look of dramatic horror. “Oh, really? Then I’m so sorry, Chloe. You see, it’s not that I don’t want to help you, but my brand is in a critical stage. I really can’t afford to deal with the kind of drama your family brings.” She shifted closer to Ashton, as if standing near me would somehow contaminate her. Ashton just stared at me. His lips parted as if he wanted to say something, but he quickly suppressed it with a bitter scowl. Everyone looked at me with smug satisfaction, expecting me to be humiliated. I really didn’t understand why she was so obsessed with finding me a job. Calmly, I repeated what I had said earlier. “No need. I already have a job, thank you.” Tiffany sighed. “Whatever job you have, you should probably quit. Being pretty might pay the bills for now, but… that kind of lifestyle will get you sick eventually.” A wave of dirty snickers went around the table. Amy, the assistant, smiled politely at first, but as she looked closer at me, her professional expression suddenly froze. The thick stack of Lumina project files she was holding slipped from her hands, crashing loudly onto the floor. White papers scattered everywhere. The lounge went dead silent. Tiffany frowned in annoyance. “What is wrong with you? Can’t even hold a few folders?” But Amy completely ignored her boss’s anger. She pointed at me, her voice trembling with shock and terror. “Designer Vance?! What… what are you doing here?!”

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