Author: Momo Chan

The first day after I died, my wife went on a date with her old flame. I once told her, “If I die… I swear, in the next life, I won’t make the mistake of loving you again.” But she just scoffed back, “Wouldn’t bother me one bit. Besides, only the good die young, right?” Later, she got her wish. I died. But clutching my urn, she murmured, “Still mad at me?” 1 The clock struck midnight. I stared at the sky-blue cake on the table, the frosting slowly starting to sweat. The single candle stuck in it had already burned out. My birthday. Ended in silence. I slowly walked over to the table, looked at the forgotten cake, picked it up, and took a bite. “Happy birthday,” I told myself. Then, without hesitation, I threw the whole thing into the trash can… Late that night, she came back. I looked at the woman walking in through the doorway. “You’re home.” Chloe’s indifferent gaze swept over to me, her brow furrowing in annoyance. “Can you do anything besides drink?” I swirled the wine in my glass and gave a slight smile. “Drinking is serious business.” Then, I swayed unsteadily towards her. “Wine’s good stuff. Here, have a sip…” I lifted the glass to her lips. She narrowed her eyes and slapped my hand away. “You need to sleep it off.” The force knocked most of the red wine out of the glass. That jolt actually sobered me up a bit. I put the glass down and turned back to face her properly. “It was my birthday today.” Hearing this, Chloe’s eyes flickered for just a second, then returned to their usual cool indifference. “Since it’s my birthday, there should obviously be a gift,” I sighed. “You’re not giving me one, so I’ll give you one instead.” Saying that, I pulled a file out of the drawer by the sofa and tossed it onto the table. “This is my gift to you.” Her eyes scanned the cover. The words “Divorce Agreement” caught her eye. Her brow furrowed then, and she asked quietly, “What kind of game are you playing now?” “Our families practically pushed us together for business reasons all those years ago, tying you to me. I know it’s been hard on you. You’ve always been thinking about your old flame, haven’t you? Go find him.” I pushed the divorce papers into her hands, and before she could react, I gently kissed her forehead. 2 Just a few seconds later, she shoved me away forcefully. I almost stumbled. Keeping my eyes lowered, I said, “For a marriage to end up like ours… it’s pretty pathetic. Looks like we really weren’t meant to spend our lives together.” Chloe’s voice was still cold. “If you’d thought that way back then, we wouldn’t have had to be tangled up like this until now.” “It’s my fault.” I managed a weak smile. “Looks like the only way to pay for this sin is with my life.” A cruel smile touched Chloe’s lips. “You think you actually have the guts to die?” I paused, my voice dropping slightly. “If I die… I swear, in the next life, I won’t make the mistake of loving you again.” “We’ll talk when you’re actually dead.” Chloe looked away, turned directly around, and left. The door slammed shut with a bang. She was gone again. The smile faded from my lips. She still hated me that much. I gave a bitter laugh. Sitting down on the sofa, I pulled another document out of the drawer – a medical report. Late-stage cancer. Those suffocating words were written on the last page. I closed my eyes, opened them after a long moment, and then tore the report to shreds. Pieces of paper scattered on the floor. I looked at the wedding ring on my ring finger, rubbing it gently back and forth with my fingertip, then slowly slid it off and placed it on the table… The next morning. I gathered all my things and threw them into the car. Without even eating breakfast, I drove away from the villa. I drove straight ahead, gradually leaving the city behind, getting onto the coastal highway. I rolled down the window. The wind blowing in was cool and crisp, ruffling my hair. “Goodbye forever, Chloe.” I jerked the steering wheel to the right, let go of the wheel, and slammed the gas pedal to the floor. CRUNCH! The car smashed head-on into the cliff face on the right. The front end crumpled severely. From the driver’s seat, bright red blood snaked out from under the car… 3 Even though I died, my soul just kept drifting. I thought death would finally get me away from Chloe, but for some reason, my spirit stayed tethered to her. Apex Global, sixtieth floor. I floated into her company building. Ever since her parents died in that car crash, she’d taken over the company. Her secretary brought her a strong cup of coffee. I followed her into the office. “Ms. Bellweather, the video conference with Weston Corp starts at 9:30. The meeting materials are already compiled and on your desk.” Chloe nodded slightly. But I noticed something missing from her finger. Right, the wedding ring. Even though Chloe usually treated me coldly, she never took off her wedding ring. But today, the ring on her left ring finger was gone, leaving only a faint pale mark. Well, we were divorced now, no need to wear it anymore. I felt a suffocating sensation for a moment; I didn’t expect to still have feelings after death. Around noon, I habitually checked the time. For five years, like clockwork, I’d gone to her office to bring her lunch. Today, I didn’t show up. Her secretary, Jessica, seemed to guess something was up and quickly ordered takeout for Chloe. Thirty minutes later, the food arrived. “Ms. Bellweather, maybe have some lunch first.” Jessica put down the takeout and left. Chloe finished the work she was doing, opened the container, and took just one bite before frowning slightly. She seemed to notice the taste was different. She picked at it for a few more bites, then pushed it aside. Her phone on the desk vibrated. I glanced at it and saw a familiar name. Her gaze remained fixed on the document in front of her; she just casually picked up the phone and answered. “Chloe, are you done with work yet?” Chloe glanced down at the phone screen, a small smile touching her lips. “Yeah, almost.” “Let’s get dinner tonight then.” Chloe looked at the files on her desk and replied softly, “Okay.” Chloe picked up her pace, finished the documents she was holding, and left the office. The Grand Plaza Hotel. As Chloe’s car pulled up, Ethan straightened his shirt, waiting with a smile for her to get out. “Chloe.” Chloe walked towards him. “Been waiting long?” Ethan casually put his arm around her shoulder. “Nope, I just got here too.” Chloe’s body stiffened noticeably for a second, then relaxed. They walked into the French restaurant on the third floor of the Grand Plaza Hotel. Ethan gallantly pulled out Chloe’s chair for her and ordered several dishes she liked. It struck me as funny, thinking back. Chloe had never once served me food from a shared dish. Every time I eagerly put food on her plate, looking at her with hopeful eyes, she would always say coldly, “Alex, don’t you have any pride? Just save your energy.” 4 Ethan seemed to be in a great mood, a constant smile on his face. Exquisite dishes arrived one by one. Ethan maintained his gentlemanly manners, occasionally putting some food onto her plate. Chloe looked up at him, asking with concern, “Are you feeling better?” So, she could show concern for people, just not for me. Ethan continued cutting his steak. “Much better. It was just a stomach thing, same old problem. As long as I eat on time, it doesn’t act up.” “I remember back in college, you didn’t have stomach problems.” Ethan paused his cutting, meeting her eyes. “Well, you took such good care of me back then, I never had a chance to get sick, did I?” Chloe lowered her gaze. “Didn’t she take good care of you?” Ethan put down his knife and fork, his expression darkening slightly. “Alex kept you tied up for five years, and I forced myself to be with someone else for five years too.” “But we both know you can’t force feelings. We loved each other deeply. If Alex hadn’t interfered, we could have been together five years ago.” Yeah, it was all my fault. Now I was finally gone, letting you two be together. Chloe seemed to recall all the unpleasantness she’d endured five years ago, her face showing a hint of guilt. “I’m sorry for what happened to you.” Ethan stood up, walked over to her side, and leaned down. “No, it wasn’t your fault. It was Alex and his family, using their influence to force the issue. We had no power back then, no way to fight back.” He looked into her eyes, his gaze finally settling on her lips, and slowly leaned in. In a flash, Chloe almost instinctively turned her head, dodging his kiss. I was really curious what she was thinking right then, why she reacted like that. Could she possibly be remembering what I once told her? “Chloe, after we’re married, you need to stay away from other men. They’re all after something. I’m the only one who truly loves you.” I shook my head, feeling like I was fooling myself. Why would she care about anything I said? Ethan’s expression stiffened, and he stood up straight. “I forgot myself. Forgive me, you’re a married woman.” “We got divorced.” As she said this, Chloe subconsciously touched the spot on her left ring finger. The ring she’d worn for five years was gone, but the indentation from wearing it so long remained. Ethan looked shocked. “Really? You two got divorced?” But I noticed the corners of his mouth twitch upwards for a split second. Chloe stood up, guided him back to his seat, and said softly, “Yes, we did.” Ethan placed his hands over hers, smiling. “That’s wonderful, Chloe! Finally, you don’t have to force yourself to be with him anymore.” He squeezed her hand tightly. “This is great news! We should really celebrate.” Chloe said nonchalantly, “It’s not that big of a deal, no need to celebrate.” “Of course, we have to celebrate!” Ethan raised his voice. “I’ve waited five years for this day, Chloe! Even if it’s just for my sake, let’s celebrate properly…” Seeing the bright smile on his face, Chloe didn’t want to disappoint him, so she went along with it. 5 The eighth floor of the Grand Plaza Hotel housed an exclusive lounge, a notorious playground for the city’s wealthy elite. After dinner, they headed up there. I didn’t want to watch them flaunt their relationship like this, but my body, or spirit rather, seemed out of my control, following them anyway. When they reached the eighth floor, they happened to run into Chloe’s friends drinking with a group of men. Ethan immediately pulled Chloe into their private room. Thumping music blasted from the room. Ethan kept his arm around Chloe’s shoulder, as if staking his claim. Her friends kept egging them on, glasses filling and emptying constantly. By the end, Chloe was so drunk she could barely stand. Her head swam. She squinted at her watch and mumbled, “It’s midnight. I need to go home.” “That guy Alex… he never let me stay out late.” “Always controlling me. So annoying!” Ethan had stayed by her side the whole time and seemed to hear her muttering. His expression darkened slightly. He put his arm around her waist and coaxed softly, “Chloe, you’re divorced now. There’s no one telling you what to do anymore. You don’t have to stick to any rules about not drinking or coming home early.” “Divorced?” Chloe closed her eyes, then smiled faintly. “Yeah, we’re divorced… divorced…” Right, we were divorced. Look how happy she was. I loved her for so many years, and never got even a shred of affection in return. She stumbled as she took another drink someone handed her, downing it in one gulp. Some of the liquid trickled down from the corner of her mouth, tracing a path down her neck. Ethan stared at her, looking almost bewitching in that moment, and his Adam’s apple bobbed involuntarily. “Alright, alright.” He stepped in, blocking others from offering her more drinks. “That’s enough for tonight. Chloe’s drunk, I’m taking her to rest.” With that, he supported Chloe and slowly guided her out of the room. Chloe followed Ethan silently out of the lounge and took the elevator up to the 60th floor. “Okay, Chloe, careful now.” Ethan helped Chloe to one of the room doors and used a key card he’d already procured to open it. “Come on, let’s get you inside.” Was I really supposed to watch them get intimate? This was too cruel. They went inside. Ethan helped her lie down on the bed and was about to help her take off her coat when Chloe suddenly sat up, pushed him away, her bright eyes showing little emotion. Ethan paused, surprised. He asked tentatively, “What’s wrong?” “I’ll get another room.” Chloe got up, her head still fuzzy, swaying a couple of times, almost losing her balance. Chloe stumbled towards the door, bumping right into the floor manager who was walking down the hallway. She had the manager open another room for her, then went into the new room alone, shutting the door behind her. I really didn’t understand Chloe’s move there. Shouldn’t she have been waiting for this day for a long time? Ethan’s misty eyes gradually turned cold, eventually revealing raw resentment. He muttered under his breath, “We’re divorced, and she’s still acting loyal to that bastard…” The next morning. Ethan composed himself, putting on a perfect smile. Looking refreshed, he put his arm around Chloe as they took the elevator down from the 60th floor. As they walked through the hotel lobby, we ran right into an “old friend”… 6 The grand lobby buzzed with people coming and going. Ethan and Chloe smiled as they looked towards someone standing not far away. It was the hotel’s lobby manager – and my best friend since childhood, Mark. I wanted desperately to “run” over, to tell him not to get involved, but my soul just passed right through his body. My spirits sank. I remembered then that I was dead. He stood there ramrod straight in his black uniform, his gaze falling coldly on the couple leaning on each other. Mark sneered, “Well, Ms. Bellweather, you really know how to play the field, don’t you? One at home, a bunch on the side? Having a good time, are we?” Chloe’s eyes darkened slightly, but she didn’t say anything. Ethan’s smile vanished. He stepped forward, positioning himself protectively in front of Chloe. “Mark, this is between the three of us. It’s none of your business.” “Five years ago, Alex used his family’s influence to force Chloe to marry him. If it weren’t for him, Chloe and I wouldn’t have been separated for so long. Besides, Alex is a nobody now, what can he do for Chloe? He was just living off her.” Mark looked pointedly at Chloe. “Living off her? Relying on a woman? I’ve never seen a friend sacrifice as much as Alex did. Gave up his whole career for a woman.” “Shut up!” Ethan glared furiously at Mark. “I know Chloe better than anyone, and I won’t let you slander her like this!” “You won’t allow it? In what capacity? As the other man?” Ethan shot back at Mark, “Chloe and I knew each other first! Alex was the one who came between us!” Mark scoffed. “Funny, I remember you being the one who dumped Chloe because she wasn’t rich enough, ran off overseas with some heiress.” Ethan glanced guiltily at Chloe, quickly trying to explain, “If Alex hadn’t interfered, I never would have left Chloe!” “Got the order wrong there, buddy,” Mark said dismissively. Five years. Even a dog would wag its tail after five years of kindness. And I poured my heart out for Chloe, only to not even get a second glance in the end. Mark stared hard at Chloe. “I hope you really never loved him. Because when you finally realize what you’ve lost, you’ll understand what real regret feels like!” Seeing my friend defend me like this, remembering he was the first to hear I died, how he broke down when he saw my body at the hospital… I wanted to tell him to stop wasting his breath on this woman, she just didn’t care. But right now, Mark was so furious he looked like he wanted to tear them both apart with his bare hands. I knew he was angry – angry at me for being so spineless, angry at her for being so ungrateful. Chloe met his gaze coolly, her voice flat. “I don’t love him.” Mark gave a cold laugh. “I hope you remember saying that today. Just don’t come crying when you regret this for the rest of your life.” Mark threw those words at her coldly, then clenched his fists and turned sharply away. 7 After driving back to the office, Chloe was busy as usual. The hangover from the night before left her with a bit of a headache. After a meeting, during a short break, she asked her secretary again for an extra-strong coffee. While waiting for the coffee, she took out her personal phone, which had been silent all night, and scrolled through it. I looked over her shoulder at the screen. Ethan had texted asking her to dinner tonight. She replied saying she had plans, maybe next time. After replying, she scrolled back and forth through all her messages and call logs. What was she looking for? Waiting for? She lowered her eyes, silent for a moment. Just then, Jessica came in with the coffee. “Ms. Bellweather, your coffee.” “Hmm.” Chloe glanced one last time at her phone, then looked up at Jessica and asked casually, “Did Alex call?” Jessica paused, startled, then replied, “No.” Chloe lowered her eyes again, saying nothing more. Jessica looked confused. I guessed Chloe had probably never actively asked about me before. After all, I was always the one chasing after her. After finishing the hot coffee, Chloe put down her phone and threw herself back into work. At noon, Jessica ordered her a boxed lunch. Chloe took two bites, and her brow furrowed again. “Where is this lunch from?” “City Bistro.” Jessica thought for a moment, then asked hesitantly, “Is the food not to your liking? Should I order something else?” “Is this the same place we used to order from?” “…No.” “From now on, order from the place we used before.” “…” Jessica glanced at her boss, not daring to speak. Chloe shot her a look. “Can’t do it?” Jessica seemed to struggle internally for a moment before confessing, “All those meals before… Mr. Thompson sent them over.” Jessica spoke nervously. “For the past few years, Mr. Thompson always brought your lunch, almost always right on time, rain or shine. He specifically told me not to let you know it was from him because he was afraid you wouldn’t eat it. That’s why I never told you.” “I’m sorry, Ms. Bellweather. I shouldn’t have kept it from you.” Yes, before, no matter how much effort I put into cooking for her, if she knew I made it, she wouldn’t even take a bite. From then on, I was careful, humble, just trying to please her. Not asking her to love me, just asking her to accept my love. She must have gotten used to it, and the sudden change didn’t sit well. Chloe didn’t say anything, just waved her hand dismissively for Jessica to leave. Chloe stared at the lunchbox in front of her, her expression unreadable. I looked at the food; it was decent, standard fare. The meals I used to make were always arranged beautifully, thoughtfully. Maybe not gourmet, but they had that comforting taste of home cooking. She picked up her phone again, scrolled through it once more. Still no messages. She put it down and dove back into work. By the time Chloe finished everything, it was already late. She glanced at the time and drove back to the villa. The house had been empty of its master for two days. The housekeeper and several maids kept the villa immaculate. Seeing Chloe return, the housekeeper was visibly pleased. “Ma’am, you’re back! I’ll go have the kitchen prepare dinner for you.” Chloe took off her coat, handed it casually to a maid, then asked the housekeeper, “Is Alex home?” The housekeeper shook her head, worried. “Mr. Thompson drove out yesterday morning and hasn’t been back yet.” “Hmm,” Chloe said quietly. “Have them prepare dinner.” “Yes, right away.” I hadn’t been home in two days, and she hadn’t even noticed? Chloe went upstairs, back to our room. Walking around the room, she finally noticed how empty it felt. All my things were gone. My side of the closet was bare – all my clothes, shoes, gone. All my personal items had vanished. And the man who had waited for her to come home every day for five years was gone too… She finally realized that I had truly, completely left this place, left her. Chloe looked at the empty bedroom, a strange, unnameable feeling suddenly filling her chest. She sat down on the sofa, her gaze falling on the diamond wedding ring sparkling under the light. This ring was the match to the one she used to wear. She picked up the ring, ripples gently disturbing the deep-sea calm of her eyes. Chloe clenched her hand around the ring, her expression somewhat lost… Maybe she thought I’d finally chosen to leave. 8 The next day, Chloe arrived at the office on time. A morning meeting was still in progress when she saw Ethan rush over looking for her. After the meeting, when Chloe returned to her office, she found Ethan waiting unexpectedly. She was slightly surprised. “What are you doing here?” Ethan put down the coffee he was holding and walked towards her. “Tried to get dinner with a certain busy lady yesterday, but no luck. So today, I had to come find you myself.” Chloe sat back down in her chair, looking at the mountain of files on her desk. “I might be a while,” she said helplessly. Ethan replied thoughtfully, “That’s okay, I’ll wait for you.” Time ticked by. An hour passed without them noticing. Chloe finished processing all the files on her desk. Just as she was about to get up and take Ethan to lunch, her phone rang. She glanced at the screen and answered, though with some hesitation. It was her personal number; very few people had it. The voice on the other end was cold. “Chloe Bellweather, this is Mark. You need to come down to the police station right now.” Chloe asked calmly, “What is it?” Between her and Mark, there was no connection other than me. Mark’s voice was like ice. “Alex’s body needs to be cremated. The cremation process requires your signature.” The cremation process required the signature of the deceased’s next of kin. My parents were already gone. Besides Chloe, I had no other relatives. Although we had signed the divorce agreement, the final divorce proceedings hadn’t been completed. Therefore, legally, Chloe was still my only relative. Chloe narrowed her eyes. “What did you say?” Body? Cremation? Mark repeated coldly, “I said Alex’s body needs to be cremated, and it requires your signature.” Chloe clearly didn’t believe it. Her voice grew stern. “Is this some kind of sick joke?” “You’ll know if it’s a joke when you get here.” With that, Mark hung up. A faint, mocking smile touched Chloe’s lips. “Hiding for two days, and now he finally decides to show his face.” Ethan approached Chloe, asking softly, “Chloe, who was that?” Chloe snapped back to reality, her expression apologetic. “Sorry, Ethan, something came up suddenly. I can’t have lunch with you.” Ethan’s expression faltered, but he quickly put on a smile. “That’s okay, work is important. We can get together next time.” “Okay, sure.” She went to the parking garage, got her car, and drove towards the police station. Arriving at the station, she wore an air of nonchalance, clearly thinking this was some scheme cooked up by me and Mark, just a way to get her back. She expected to see me standing there, looking smug about my successful ploy.

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My own father sold me off, sent me packing to the middle of nowhere, deep in the sticks. I was stuck there for over ten years. Meanwhile, his illegitimate daughter, her, she got brought into the family home like she belonged there all along. When they finally found me and brought me back, my “sister” pointed at the table loaded with food. “Eat up. Bet you never had anything like this, right?” I put on my best pitiful look. “My foster parents… they didn’t feed me much. My stomach’s shrunk, I think. Thanks, sis, but I’m already full.” Mom’s eyes welled up, full of pity. My sister just glared daggers at me. Getting mad already, sis? Just wait till I take back everything that’s mine. You’ll probably keel over from pure rage. 1. I’d just been whipped, again. I was lying there in the dusty shed, barely breathing, when the cops busted in and hauled my foster parents away. Listening to their useless, angry shouting as they were dragged off, I actually smiled. That sound was music to my ears. Next thing I knew, a cop kicked open the shed door, and paramedics were loading me onto a stretcher. Everything hurt so bad. So bad I couldn’t take it, and I passed out. When I came to, I saw a middle-aged man gently patting the shoulder of a striking woman with tear-streaked eyes. Beside them, a bored-looking teenage girl noticed I was awake. A small smirk played on her lips, but she pretended not to see, turning instead to comfort the crying woman with soft words. Watching this cozy little scene, I sneered inwardly. Great. Just jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire. When the woman finally looked up, she saw I was awake and immediately called for a doctor. Seeing my confused and panicked expression, she sobbed, “Oh, my baby girl, you’ve suffered so much.” “Those monsters who took you, they’ll rot in jail for this.” “I’m your real mother. We’re your real family!” I feigned shock and helplessness. Under their expectant gazes, I whispered softly, “Mom?” Just as I expected, the woman answered immediately, calling me her precious darling, overcome with emotion. My father, though, looked uncomfortable. He just smiled weakly and said nothing. My eyes shifted past them. The girl left behind, Ashley, rolled her eyes and pursed her lips. Yeah, this family definitely wasn’t as perfect as it looked on the surface. After the check-up, the doctor said I was out of immediate danger, but my wounds were still bad and needed time to heal properly. Rest was essential. Mom immediately said, “We’re going home! We’ll take care of you at home!” Ashley piped up quickly, “But Mom, her injuries are so severe. Moving her around might not be good. Maybe she should stay here in the hospital to recover.” Seeing Mom hesitate, I spoke up softly, weakly, “Maybe it’s better if I don’t go home and disrupt Dad and Mom’s lives. I can manage on my own.” “Then stay in the hospital. I’ll hire a couple of private nurses for you,” Dad said, glancing at Ashley with what looked like relief. “You be quiet!” Mom shot Dad a cold glare. He immediately clammed up. “Don’t be silly, honey. What disruption?” “We’re going home! My darling girl, we’re going home right now!” Mom made the final decision. Ashley forced a smile and agreed, but I could see her fidgeting, practically shredding the edge of her clothes. In the car, Mom put her arm around me, gently stroking my hair. I leaned against her shoulder, soaking in the rare moment of peace. Suddenly, Ashley spoke up. “Mom, do you smell something… kind of gross?” Mom’s arm around me stiffened. She looked a bit awkward. I lowered my head, acting embarrassed. “I’m sorry, Ashley. The doctor said the dressing for my wounds smells like this. It’s supposed to help them heal faster and prevent scarring.” “Once we’re home, I promise I won’t leave my room for a while, so I won’t bother you.” “Exactly. The doctor said you need rest. Best stay put for now,” Dad quickly agreed. Seeing Mom was about to lose her temper again, Dad tried to smooth things over. “Hey, your birthdays are coming up soon, right? What gifts do you two want?” Ashley lit up. “Dad, you promised! I want that pink Cadillac Escalade! I want to take my friends cruising!” “No problem! Anything for my little princess, you know I’ll make it happen!” Dad agreed readily. Then Ashley turned to me, a smug look on her face. “I guess you don’t need a car yet, sis. You’re not even eighteen until next year.” “Mom, I want a car too,” I said, looking pleadingly at Mom. “Paige, honey, let’s not get competitive. You can’t even drive yet. Anywhere you need to go, we have drivers to take you,” Mom said, still stroking my hair gently, but the warmth in her eyes had cooled noticeably. “Yeah, what would you even do with a car now? Besides showing off or letting it collect dust in the garage? It’s pointless,” Dad added. Biological parents. Not so different after all. 2 Seeing Ashley’s smug “See? Told you so” expression, I reached out and squeezed Mom’s hand, my face falling, my voice barely a whisper. “Mom, that’s not what I meant.” “I don’t want an Escalade. I just… I want a shopping cart.” As soon as the words left my mouth, Ashley burst out laughing. “Oh, Paige, just say what you mean. You want Dad’s credit card with no limit, right? That’s a bit greedy, don’t you think? People might think you see Mom and Dad as walking ATMs.” Dad chimed in, “Paige, don’t push it. Ashley’s being more reasonable here.” Mom’s face grew darker and darker with their words. Seeing the time was right, I quickly shook my head. “Ashley, you misunderstood.” “Unlike you, I didn’t grow up surrounded by Mom and Dad’s love.” “The shopping cart I’m talking about… it’s really just the kind you find at the supermarket.” “When I was little, I’d see other kids riding in the carts, whining and cuddling with their parents. But me? I had to push the cart, trailing behind my foster parents.” “If I pushed too slow, I got hit. If I pushed too fast and bumped into them, I got hit too.” “But those carts… they always wobbled, went crooked. I was so small back then, I really couldn’t control it.” “So,” I paused, looking hopefully at Mom, “I just want a shopping cart. For you guys to push me in.” “Even just once.” Mom’s eyes widened slowly, filling with pain and guilt until tears overflowed, splashing down her cheeks. “My poor baby… what kind of life did you have? You suffered so much.” “Here,” she pulled out a card. “This is my supplementary card. Use it for whatever you want.” I took the card. Might as well. But then, I immediately hugged her, gently patting her back. “Thank you, Mom. But that’s all in the past now.” “From now on, I have you and Dad to love me.” Dad nodded awkwardly, speechless. Mom held me even tighter. I glanced in the rearview mirror. Sure enough, Ashley was staring daggers at me, her eyes red with fury. If looks could kill, I’d be ashes right now. I tilted my head slightly and gave her a small smile. My dear sister, this is just the beginning. If you’re looking at me like that now, what’s going to happen when I take back everything that belongs to me? Your eyes might just pop right out of your head. 3 At dinner that evening, Mom kept piling food onto my plate. “Paige, Mrs. Davison is a wonderful cook. Eat more.” Ashley chimed in with a smile, “Yeah, Paige, you’ve probably never eaten food this good before. Have as much as you want, there’s plenty more.” Her tone was exactly like a hostess showing off to a poor relative. I ignored her and looked apologetically at Mom. “Thanks, Mom, but I really can’t eat any more.” “My foster parents… they often skipped feeding me. My stomach must have shrunk. I’m afraid if I eat too much all at once, I won’t be able to handle it.” The guilt and remorse deepened in Mom’s eyes. Ashley suddenly cut in, interrupting the mother-daughter moment. “You really had it rough, Paige. Couldn’t even get enough to eat before. Was it because the place you lived was really poor?” “Yeah, just some backwards town in the middle of nowhere. Didn’t have enough food when I was little. When I got older, they just stopped feeding me regularly.” “Paige,” Ashley suddenly smiled, a knowing glint in her eye, “stop joking around. How could a poor, backwards town have a supermarket with shopping carts?” The table fell silent. “So, you wouldn’t happen to be… playing the victim, would you?” I could practically feel Mom’s sharp gaze on me. “Huh? Ashley, why would you think that of me?” I said, sounding wounded. “Actually, you know, we have the government to thank for that.” “There were programs, rural development initiatives… they helped the area I lived in develop some local industries.” “The place I was, they started selling medicinal herbs, things like ginseng, and gradually got better off. The town eventually got a couple of small supermarkets.” “When I was really young, the whole family went hungry. Later, they had a bit more money, but then it was just me who didn’t get enough to eat. And I had to work constantly. If I did anything wrong, slightest little thing, they’d whip me with the same switch they used for the sheep.” “I’m not playing the victim.” “They just… they didn’t treat me like a human being…” My head drooped, my voice fading. Mom shot Ashley a furious glare, then took a deep breath. “Sweetheart, are you done eating? Let Mom show you to your room.” Well, well. Guess she’s letting her precious daughter, the one she raised for over a decade, off the hook just like that. Looks like this fire isn’t burning hot enough yet. Back in my room, after a shower, I opened the closet. I stared at the clothes packed inside and paused. The Johnsons seemed pretty well-off. But the clothes in here, aside from the underwear, were all hand-me-downs. Old clothes someone else had worn. And whose old clothes they were? Didn’t take a genius to figure that out. Hmph. I picked out the rattiest-looking pair of pajamas I could find and put them on. Then I went and knocked on Mom’s door. Mom opened it. I heard the shower running in the bathroom – Dad, probably. Good. He wouldn’t be in the way. “Mom, sorry to bother you so late.” “I can’t sleep. I wanted to find some books to read. I’m worried about falling behind when school starts.” “But I don’t know where the study is.” Mom smiled and agreed, but as her eyes fell on my pajamas, the smile froze. I saw her barely contain her anger. She went to the study, grabbed a few books for me, told me to read them there, then turned and walked straight to my room. Less than half a minute later, she marched to Ashley’s room. Who could possibly study at a time like this? Obviously, I followed to watch the show. 4 “Ashley Johnson, it’s your sister’s first day home, and this is how you treat her?” “What’s wrong, Mom?” “Don’t play dumb with me. Those old clothes in her closet, aren’t those the ones you were going to throw out last week?” “I’m sorry, Mom, it’s all my fault. Paige came back so suddenly, I didn’t have time to get her anything new.” Ashley started sniffling, ostensibly taking the blame but subtly shifting it. It’s not her fault, it’s mine for coming back too soon. My dear, dumb sister. “What do you mean, ‘Paige came back too suddenly’?” “I think it’s not that she came back too suddenly, it’s that her coming back made you suddenly anxious, didn’t it?” “She hasn’t had a single day of comfort here, and you’re already tripping her up at every turn.” “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re thinking. You think having her wear your ill-fitting hand-me-downs makes you look superior? Makes people think you’ve got her under your thumb?” “Let me tell you, plenty of people are just waiting to laugh at this family!” “They’ll wonder if we’ve gone bankrupt and can’t even afford clothes! They’ll think Olivia Harrison’s daughters are constantly fighting, that this house is chaos!” “They’re waiting for a scandal, for our stock to drop, so they can swoop in like vultures and tear me apart!” “I’ve taught you for so many years, and you haven’t learned a thing about family honor! All you care about is your own petty little world!” “You disappoint me. Greatly.” So, it wasn’t just my imagination. Mom really was the one calling the shots in this house. “Mom, I’m sorry. I’ll never do it again.” Ashley just stood there crying. “The person you should be apologizing to is your sister.” Mom went back to her room. The show was pretty much over. I was about to head back to the study when I heard a knock on Ashley’s door again. I immediately ducked back down. “Ashley, it’s Dad.” After Dad went in, they kept their voices low. I couldn’t quite hear, so I crept closer. And what I heard was one hell of a secret. Ashley’s previous meekness vanished. Her words were sharp, vicious. “Dad! It’s all because of that brat! That crazy woman yelled at me again! Why isn’t she dead yet?!” “You said getting rid of that brat would solve everything, so why is she back?!” “We should have broken her legs, or just finished her off back then.” “You told me I could take her place, that once you got control of that crazy woman’s shares, we’d have a good life!” I clenched my fists, listening to that scumbag comfort his little monster. “Sweetheart, just be patient a little longer. Dad doesn’t have enough power yet to openly confront that crazy woman.” “Give it some time. Dad will find a chance to get Olivia committed, locked up in a mental hospital, and then everything will be ours.” “As for the other brat… she’s nothing to worry about.” Ashley laughed. “If that little bitch dares to compete with me, I swear I’ll slash her face! I’ll sell her off somewhere horrible, make her life a living hell!” That was enough. I stopped the recording on my phone and went back to my room. So that’s why Ashley always targeted me. That’s why Dad only ever defended Ashley. The truth… it was sickening. Absolutely, gut-wrenchingly sickening. 5 The next morning, I pretended to feel unwell and sweetly asked Mom to stay home with me. Ashley and Dad put on a show of concern, asked how I was doing, then left for school and work. Lying in bed, watching Mom tuck me in, I said weakly, “Mom, I didn’t sleep well last night.” Mom looked worried. “Is the pain really bad? I’ll call the family doctor right away.” I grabbed her hand, hesitated for a moment, then whispered in her ear, “Mom… there aren’t any cameras or listening devices in my room, are there?” Mom’s expression changed instantly. She immediately called Mr. Davies, her secretary, and had him come sweep the room. After confirming it was clean, Mom sent him to check the other rooms and gestured for me to speak. I took out my phone and played last night’s recording. Mom’s expression shifted from confusion to fury, then settled into a cold calm. When the recording finished, Mom was silent for a moment, then said, “I knew Mark was ambitious. And I knew Ashley only nice to me for my money.” “That’s why I make sure to put them in their place now and then, remind them not to get too greedy.” So, last night, Mom was using me to assert her authority. Huh. Just as I thought. No way there was that much deep mother-daughter bonding on day one. “But I never imagined Ashley was his illegitimate daughter. Or that Mark planned to drive me crazy and lock me away in an asylum.” As she said this, I could faintly hear the grinding of her teeth. “So, Mom, what’s the plan?” “Let’s not tip them off yet. Play along. You pretend to keep competing with Ashley for attention. I want to see exactly how Mark plans to ‘drive me crazy’.” “Okay, Mom.” I saw a flicker of hesitation in Mom’s eyes. “Is there something else?” I asked, puzzled. “About… your past. Is there anything you want to ask?” I smiled sweetly at her. “As long as I’m your daughter, Mom, nothing else matters to me.” Mom suddenly pulled me into a tight hug. After a moment, I felt a warm dampness on my shoulder. I knew, right then, there was no turning back for me. Whether it was genuine affection or just using each other, I had to climb. I had to fight my way up. I would absolutely not go back to that life of being treated like an animal, always hungry, always covered in bruises. “Over the next little while, you need to pay close attention and learn everything I teach you.” “Okay, Mom.” Thanks to that night, over the next two months, Dad would occasionally ask about my health. I just smiled politely and brushed him off each time. Honestly, spending even a second longer than necessary around him made my skin crawl. Ashley also toned it down quite a bit, even making small talk with me at dinner sometimes, though it was clearly fake. Once my injuries were mostly healed, Mom made an announcement at dinner. “Grandpa’s birthday is in a week. Everyone get ready. Don’t embarrass me.” “No problem,” Ashley said, beaming. “And Paige, since you’re feeling better, you should come too. Grandpa will be thrilled to see you.” “It’ll be crowded, so stick close to me, okay? Don’t be scared. If anything happens, I’ll help you.” Help me? Yeah, right. If you manage not to pour gasoline on the fire, I’ll call you a saint. Despite my thoughts, I put on a look of pleased surprise. “Thanks, Ashley.” Mom smiled at Ashley too. “Ashley, you’ve really grown up.” Ashley’s smile widened even more. Stop smiling. I can practically hear the evil schemes bubbling in your stomach from across the table. After dinner, Mom came to my room. She carefully went over things I should say at Grandpa’s party and things to watch out for. “I understand, Mom,” I nodded. “You’re my daughter. I know you can do this,” Mom said, gently stroking my head.

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The day my fiancé, Mark, and I were talking about setting a wedding date, my sister Chloe threw a wrench in the works. She announced she wanted him too. I refused to back down. So, she went up to the rooftop, crying, threatening to jump. But then she actually slipped and fell. She died with her eyes wide open, unable to rest in peace. Because of that, my parents grew to hate me, blaming and criticizing me at every turn. Mark said cruelly, “You were so cold to your own sister. Serves you right to know what it feels like to be treated coldly.” “Otherwise,” he’d add, “my poor Chloe… imagine how desperate she must have felt.” He teamed up with my parents, determined to ruin me, all to avenge my dead sister. Eventually, I died in a hospital bed. Then, I opened my eyes. I was back right when Chloe had just stepped onto that rooftop ledge. 1 “Hannah, if you don’t do exactly what I say, I’ll jump right off here!” “And if Mom and Dad find out you drove me to this, they’ll never forgive you!” The harsh wind whipped across the rooftop, and Chloe’s face swam into view. This… this wasn’t right! I looked around wildly. This wasn’t the hospital. There was no familiar smell of antiseptic, and my body didn’t ache with the sickness that had consumed me. Seeing Chloe standing there, a triumphant look flickering in her eyes despite the tears, I realized with a shock—I was reborn. Reborn to a time before Chloe died, when there was still a chance to change things. In my past life, it was because Chloe died that Mom and Dad became unbelievably harsh with me. They screamed that I’d deliberately caused her death, that if it wasn’t for me, she’d still be alive. They even said since my sister was dead, I should die too. They hurled the ugliest words at me, looking at me like I was their mortal enemy. But they never cut me off completely—they still needed my money, after all. I used to think their grief was just overwhelming, that one day they’d calm down and remember I was their daughter too, someone who needed love and care. But all I got was falling gravely ill, lying in bed, and facing their disgust. They pinched every penny, refusing to spend a dime on my hospital stay. Right before I died, they tricked me into giving them my bank card PIN, cleaned out my account, and then told the doctors to stop treatment. I died alone and filled with despair in that hospital bed. My only thought before the end was: if only I could do it all over again. And somehow, miraculously, I was. Looking at Chloe’s smug, tear-streaked face, I slowly smiled. “You want Mark, don’t you? Fine. You can have him.” 2 Not long after I said that, my parents came running onto the rooftop, Mark helping them along. They stumbled, looking terrified and disheveled. Mom rushed forward and clung to Chloe. “Oh, honey, how could you joke about your own life like this? You scared us half to death!” Chloe expertly wiped her eyes and buried her face in Mom’s shoulder, her voice thick with tears. “Mommy, I was so scared.” I rolled my eyes. Just as I was about to speak, my stepfather slapped me hard across the face. He glared at me furiously. “Look what you’ve done! Would Chloe be threatening her own life if it wasn’t for you? I just don’t understand what could possibly be more important to you than your sister’s life!” So, I’m just supposed to stand by and watch her take everything from me? I pressed a hand to my stinging cheek, saying nothing. In my past life, I might have furiously tried to explain, but… what was the point? I’d already spent a lifetime learning that my mother and stepfather didn’t love me. Did fairness or justice matter to them? No. Only their precious Chloe mattered. Ignoring Chloe’s victorious smirk, I turned to leave. But I’d only taken a few steps when a hand grabbed my arm, stopping me. Mark stared at me, his eyes dark. “What happened? What did you possibly do to make Chloe suddenly want to kill herself?” His accusatory tone almost made me laugh out loud. “Mark, you’re so worried about her. Why don’t you just marry her then?” Mark’s brow furrowed tightly. “You know I’m not kidding around, Hannah.” Of course, I knew he wasn’t kidding. Chloe was in trouble, and he, my fiancé, was more frantic than anyone. Anyone could see there was something going on between them. It’s just a shame it took me so long in my last life to realize it. For a moment, I flashed back to those lonely days dying in the hospital bed. Mark visited me every day. He’d sit by my bed, his voice soft, but his words were like ice picks. “Hannah, you were so cold to your own sister. Serves you right to know what it feels like to be treated coldly.” “Otherwise, my Chloe… imagine how desperate she must have felt.” “No wonder even your parents abandoned you, Hannah. You’re just cruel to the core.” I blinked hard, forcing back the wave of overwhelming hatred that surged in my eyes. When I looked up again, my eyes were red-rimmed. “Mark,” I said, my voice clear despite the emotion. “Given everything… let’s call off the engagement.” 3 This time, I chose to give them what they seemingly wanted, but now Mark wasn’t happy. He stared at me, annoyed, clearly confused by my sudden change of heart. “I just said a few things to you, and now you suddenly want to break off the engagement? Do you think this is some kind of joke?” We’d been together for five years, our relationship had been stable. If Chloe hadn’t interfered, who knows how things might have turned out. So, I could understand his reaction, on some level. But having seen his true colors in my last life, even looking at him now made me feel sick. I pulled my arm away from his grasp. “It’s my engagement. I’ll end it if I want to, and nobody can force me otherwise.” “Besides, you don’t know, do you?” I met his angry gaze. “The reason Chloe was on that roof wanting to die… it was you, not me.” “She was willing to risk her life for you. Clearly, she feels very deeply for you. As a good big sister, naturally, I have to grant her wish.” I watched the anger in his eyes shift to confused suspicion, his whole aggressive posture deflating slightly. “Are you misunderstanding something? Let me explain, it’s not what you think. There’s nothing going on between Chloe and me.” He wanted to explain, but I didn’t want to hear it. My parents hadn’t gone back downstairs yet, and a small crowd of curious onlookers had gathered. I yelled out loud, “This engagement is off! I’m not marrying him!” My parents reacted instantly and furiously. “What is wrong with you, changing your mind like this? We’ve already had the engagement party! Do you think you’re still three years old?” My gaze shifted to Chloe, and I gave her a small, sharp smile. She instinctively flinched, realizing something was wrong, and quickly tugged at my stepfather’s sleeve. “This is our family business, let’s talk about it at home.” But I wasn’t going to let her off that easily. I dropped to my knees right there on the rooftop, wailing dramatically. “My sister is in love with my fiancé! What am I supposed to do? What can I possibly do?” “You all just blame me, but what choice do I have? My sister said if I didn’t give him up, she’d jump off this roof! She’s my only sister! If she died, what would happen to me?” Murmurs and pointing started among the onlookers. Mark’s face went pale. He tried to pull me up, but I smacked his hand away. “Don’t touch me! Who knows which hand you touched my sister with!” Mark went even paler. Chloe looked like she was about to burst into tears. “It’s not like that…” My parents tried to jump in and defend the situation, but I was lost in my own performance, inconsolable. I started pounding the ground like a madwoman. “Oh God, why is my life so hard? My fiancé is messing around with my sister! How am I supposed to go on?” “I’m a college student, I should have some dignity, but here I am, losing my mind on the ground! Do you think I’d make this up? You all be the judge! My sister threatens to jump, says she has depression… I’ve always loved my sister, what could I do? I wish I could just die myself, boo hoo hoo…” The next second, my stepfather lost his patience. He grabbed my hair, trying to yank me to my feet. My screams became even more heart-wrenching. The onlookers were practically moved to tears by my performance and rushed forward to stop him. The two groups started arguing fiercely. Thirty minutes later, the police arrived. 4 “This damn kid just wouldn’t stop making a scene! Officer, tell me, this was just a family matter, did it really need all this fuss?” Facing the police officer’s questions, my stepfather forced an awkward smile, trying to explain what happened. “Really, it was just a little spat between sisters, nothing serious happened.” The officer looked at him sternly. “Just because nobody died doesn’t mean nothing serious happened. This is your family business, and normally we wouldn’t interfere, but hitting your daughter in public? Don’t you think that’s going too far?” The smile froze on my stepfather’s face. He nodded and bowed slightly, mumbling agreement. The moment we were out of earshot, his demeanor changed. “Damn it,” he muttered. “Nosy cops, telling me how to discipline my own kid. Got nothing better to do.” When we got home and he saw me, remembering the humiliation at the police station, his anger flared up again. I was trying to eat dinner when he grabbed my hair and dragged me away from the table. “You’re afraid our family name isn’t ruined enough, aren’t you? Saying those things in public! How do you expect your sister to face people now? How are we supposed to face people?” I struggled instinctively. He unbuckled his belt and started whipping me with it. Mom just sat at the table, watching coldly. When my eyes met hers, she said flatly, “She’s needed to be taught a lesson for a long time. If we don’t put her in her place, she’ll be walking all over us.” I stopped struggling, stunned. There was a time, long ago, when Mom had been kind to me too. My name is Hannah. When I was born, I represented my parents’ hopes and love. But my biological father died when I was very young. Later, Mom remarried, bringing me into this new family. That’s when my life started going downhill. At first, Mom might have spoken harshly to me in front of others, but in private, she’d secretly be kind. She’d peek in on me late at night, tuck me in. When I got good grades, she’d brave my stepfather’s disapproval and cook a meal full of my favorite dishes. But ever since Chloe was born, her attitude towards me soured completely. When I was little, if my stepfather disciplined me, she never would have just sat by and watched like this. Just then, Chloe started sniffling pitifully from the side. “Daddy, please stop hitting her. Even though Hannah spread rumors outside and embarrassed the family, making the neighbors gossip about us, she didn’t mean to. I’m partly to blame too.” “Besides, if other people find out about this, there will be even more talk. Mom and Dad still have to live here, you know.” Before my stepfather could reply, Mom was already stroking Chloe’s head lovingly. “You silly child, we’re doing this for you. Look at your sister, acting so outrageous, dragging your name through the mud.” “You’re just too soft-hearted and considerate. With a personality like that, you’re bound to get pushed around at work.” “Speaking of which,” Chloe put down her chopsticks, glancing nervously at me. “I’ve been looking for a job recently. Mark actually has a position that would suit me, but if I took it, and it made Hannah unhappy—” “What kind of nonsense is that!” Mom interrupted. “You’re her own sister! Working at the same place, it’s only natural she’d look out for you, right?” “Hannah, did you hear that?” I nodded silently. As I looked up, I saw Chloe hug Mom joyfully, the picture of a happy, harmonious family. A small, secret smile touched my lips. Chloe, let’s see if you can actually handle the things you ‘receive’.

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My husband was convinced I was the reason his first love couldn’t have children. He told me, full of hate, “You give Jenny a child, then you can get lost.” But then, he was the one who took that child’s life away. In the end, he cried, begging for my forgiveness. I just shook my head. “I’ll never forgive you. We’ve lost our past.” 1. “Ow!” Right then, Liam clamped down on my wrists, mercilessly. Tears welled up in my eyes. “Liam, I’m your legal wife, you can’t treat me like this…” Hearing me, Liam scoffed as if he’d heard the funniest joke. My chin tightened as Liam sneered, “Wife? You think you deserve that title?” A sharp pain shot through my heart. “You caused Jenny’s car accident, made it so she can never have kids. A vicious woman like you… if Jenny hadn’t begged me, I would have made you pay long ago!” “No, it wasn’t me…” I tried to defend myself, but it was useless. All the evidence in the accident pointed straight at me. Liam had zero patience for me. His narrowed eyes were dark with menace. “Not you? Then who schemed to crawl into my bed and tipped off the paparazzi?” That night, I’d had too much to drink and woke up in Liam’s bed. Next thing I knew, reporters were camped outside the door, waiting for us. The Hayes family, pressured by the media storm, forced Liam to marry me. And because of that, Liam hated my guts. “I don’t know how that happened…” I sobbed, trying to explain. “Ah!” A familiar, unwelcome sensation started below. I squeezed my eyes shut, a hot tear escaping down my cheek. “I already promised I’d have a baby for you, why do you have to go this far… Ouch, it hurts…” A piercing agony twisted inside me. Heart dead, I just endured Liam’s movements. It seemed like this was the only way – acting this way made Liam despise me more, made him finish faster. Liam gripped my waist, his voice dark. “You stole Jenny’s place, ruined her chances of having a family. I won’t let you get away with it!” I stayed silent, but my passive resistance only seemed to fuel his cold fury. Liam’s low voice was clear in my ear— “Chloe, you better get pregnant fast. You think I want to touch you? You make me sick!” After the long ordeal, Liam slammed the door and left. Ignoring the discomfort, I went to the bathroom to clean myself up, carefully applying some ointment. Married for a year, every time Liam came home, he’d torture and humiliate me like this. He wanted me to have his child, then divorce me. Back then, I thought it was just angry talk. I’d foolishly, happily agreed to give him a baby. I thought, if we had our own child, maybe he’d change towards me. But now, a year into the marriage, I knew with painful clarity: no matter what I did, he would never love me. Tears streamed down my face like broken pearls. “Why…” I whispered to myself. “Why treat me like this? It wasn’t my fault. Why won’t you believe me!” I sniffled, turned, and numbly opened the nightstand drawer. I took out the birth control pills I always kept hidden and swallowed one dry. I wasn’t going to make things easy for them anymore! Bang! Just then, the door was kicked open— It was Liam, back for his phone. He saw the pill bottle in my hand, froze for a second, then realization dawned. He snatched the bottle, glanced at it, and threw it violently to the floor. Pills scattered everywhere. “Chloe, you dare take pills?!” I flinched, terrified of this Liam. He looked like a raging lion. Seeing my silence, he dragged me into the bathroom, shoved his fingers down my throat, and snarled, “Spit it out!” Gag— Retch— The pill came up with the sour bile from my stomach. I had no strength left to fight, just a desolate emptiness in my heart. “Cough, cough…” Leaning against the tub, I coughed weakly, my voice barely a whisper. “Liam, you’ll regret treating me like this…” 2 “Regret?” Liam snorted. “Who do you think you are?” I closed my eyes. My voice was barely audible, yet it felt like it took all the strength I had left. “Liam, I’m tired. Let’s get a divorce. Yes, I love you. I’ve loved you for so long, from seventeen to twenty-seven. But that doesn’t mean you can trample all over my dignity.” I glared at the madman before me. Liam’s face was an icy mask. He completely ignored my feelings, warning, “Chloe, don’t play games. Behave, have the baby, and maybe I’ll let you walk away with your life.” “If you want a child, go find someone else! Why does it have to be me!” I screamed, breaking down. Liam looked down at me imperiously. “Because you hurt Jenny. You have to pay the price!” “It wasn’t me! I told you, what happened to Jenna Sullivan has nothing to do with me!” I asked weakly, “Why? Why won’t you just believe me?” Liam frowned. Just then, his phone buzzed on the table. I heard his voice change— “She collapsed? Okay, I’ll be right there.” Liam clearly had no more patience for me. He finished the call and turned to leave. “Liam! Don’t go…” I don’t know where the courage came from. Hearing he was leaving, I pushed myself up against the edge of the tub, trying to stand and follow him. But suddenly, my vision went black, and I crumpled heavily to the floor! A sharp pain flared in my lower abdomen. I felt like something was draining away… I curled into a ball, whimpering softly, “Liam, help me…” Click. The door shut. He was gone. In his heart, I would never compare to Jenna Sullivan. My heart died. My head spun, and then everything went dark. Mercy General Hospital. I was having a nightmare. “No, it wasn’t me…” “Liam, you have to believe me, I really didn’t hurt her!” The man’s eyes were cold, ignoring my pleas. Suddenly, his hands were around my neck. “Chloe, just die!” “Ah—” I woke up with a start, drenched in cold sweat. The faint smell of cigarette smoke hung in the air. Click. The sound of a lighter being set down on a table. Then, a man’s deep, cold sneer. “Awake? I thought you were dead.” A bone-deep chill swept over me. I was fully awake now. “Sorry to disappoint you,” I said, my voice hoarse. Liam tapped ash from his cigarette, stood up, and walked over to me. He looked down, his voice dripping with contempt. “Hiding the fact that you were already pregnant. What kind of game are you playing now?” 3 I froze. “Pregnant?” Instinctively, my hand went to my stomach. I was… pregnant? Right now, a baby was growing inside me. Mine and Liam’s child. A tiny flicker of hope sparked within me. With this baby, maybe Liam would… A sharp pain in my jaw shattered the fragile dream instantly. Liam’s voice was icy cold. “Chloe, let me warn you. Whatever tricks you’re planning, if you hurt Jenny in any way, I will never forgive you!” “And besides, a woman like you can’t raise a child properly. After it’s born, I’ll have Jenny raise him.” I listened in shock, my vision blurring. I couldn’t even see his face clearly anymore. Jenna Sullivan. His heart only had room for Jenna Sullivan. I don’t know where the strength came from, but I ripped the IV needle out of my hand, jumped off the bed, and ran barefoot towards the door. “What do you think you’re doing?” Liam grabbed my wrist, frowning. My eyes filled with tears, but I fought to keep them from falling. “I won’t have this baby! I’m going to find a doctor and get rid of it!” Liam gritted his teeth. “Chloe, you dare!” “You want to give my child to Jenna Sullivan to raise? I won’t let you have your way!” “I could never accept my own child calling someone else ‘Mom’!” Liam gripped my thin wrist tightly, my defiant face reflected in his pupils. Suddenly, Liam’s expression softened, as if remembering something. Then just as quickly, his brow furrowed, the gentleness replaced by cold shadow. He spoke each word slowly, like a dark prince— “Chloe, are you asking to die?” “Yes! I’d rather die than give birth to—” My voice cut off abruptly as Liam threw me back onto the bed. “Ugh…” The impact knocked the wind out of me, forcing out a muffled cough. The man’s voice was low, terrifying. “You want to die? I can grant you that wish. But this child, you will give birth to it for me!” I blinked, cold tears finally spilling over, unable to hold them back any longer. Sobbing, I poured out my pain. “Liam, I hate you.” “I hate that you don’t believe me, hate how you torture and hurt me, and I hate you even more… for trying to steal my child.” Liam’s eyes gleamed with a sharp, cold light. He studied me, his voice filled with disgust. “Once the baby is born, you can get lost.” Bang— The door slammed shut. Muffled sounds came from outside— “Keep an eye on her. Don’t let anything happen.” “Yes, Mr. Hayes!” 4 The Hayes Estate. This was my third day locked up. In the quiet, dim room, I huddled in a corner of the bed, face buried in my arms, lifeless and drained of all spirit. Click. The bedroom light suddenly switched on. Used to the darkness, I felt a surge of fear. “Turn it off… turn off the light.” Mrs. Gable, the housekeeper, came in carrying a bowl of oatmeal, her voice full of sympathy. “Mrs. Hayes, dear, you need to eat something. You have to take care of yourself. Even if not for you, think of the baby. The baby’s innocent.” “You’re such a good young woman. Why does the master only think about that woman outside and not cherish who he has right here? Sigh…” “The baby.” Hearing Mrs. Gable’s murmurs, I felt dazed. I shifted my stiff body. I felt so weak, like I could collapse at any moment. I hadn’t had a drop of water in three days. My voice was raspy. I tried several times before managing a whisper, barely audible. “Is… is Liam back?” Mrs. Gable gently shook her head. I looked up, a self-mocking smile touching my lips. “He’s… with Jenna Sullivan again, isn’t he?” Mrs. Gable pressed her lips together, just looking at me sadly, saying nothing. “I need to see him.” Mrs. Gable seemed like she wanted to dissuade me. “Mrs. Hayes…” “If he doesn’t let me go, he can prepare to collect my body and the baby’s!” Mrs. Gable’s unspoken words were cut off. My face, pale as paper, held a shocking look of determination. She must have been frightened by my expression. She quickly agreed, “Okay, okay… Mrs. Hayes, I’ll call the master right now. Please don’t do anything rash.” Mrs. Gable took out her phone and dialed. “Master Hayes, you need to come back quickly… Mrs. Hayes is…” Bang! The bedroom door was kicked open. The person entering radiated furious anger. I remained huddled in the corner, not even lifting my head, my voice flat. “You’re back.” Liam strode to the bedside, roughly tilted my face up, and ground out, “Chloe, are you trying to threaten me with death, huh?” I was so thin I barely looked human, utterly drained of strength. But I knew I had to fight for myself, or I’d really die here. I looked at Liam with determined eyes. “Let me leave.” Liam sneered coldly. “In your dreams!” I tried to push his hand away. My messy hair covered half my face; I must have looked like a ghost. My voice hoarse, I cried out, “Either let me go, or kill me!” Compared to my breakdown, Liam seemed unnervingly calm. He said coldly, “If you want to die, you’ll wait until after the baby is born.” My heart sank. I looked at him in despair. I couldn’t even cry anymore. Liam suddenly mentioned, “They’ve identified the hit-and-run driver. Once he’s caught, let’s see how you talk your way out of it then.” A flicker of hope sparked in my eyes, but it died just as quickly. “Liam, the car accident had nothing to do with me. How many times do I have to tell you before you believe me?” Even if they found the driver, what difference would it make? Liam still wouldn’t believe me. He’d assume I’d already bribed the driver. In his mind, I was the one responsible for Jenna Sullivan’s accident and infertility. No matter how I explained, he wouldn’t listen. Bottom line: Liam said I did it, so I did it. Heh… I bit my lip, tasting blood. Liam’s voice came from above. “No rush. The truth will come out soon enough.” He paused, then commanded coldly, “Now, eat this!” My voice raspy, I refused, “I won’t eat— Mmph—” Before I could finish, his cold fingers pried my mouth open. Then, he grabbed the oatmeal from the nightstand and poured it straight into my mouth… “Cough… Liam…” I choked, flailing my hands weakly against him, looking utterly wretched and pained. Clack. Liam slammed the bowl back down on the table. He watched me coldly. “You dare starve my child? Then I’ll make sure that old man, Chris Archer, finds no peace even in his grave.” My vacant eyes slowly regained focus, my voice trembling. “What… what are you going to do?” 5 Liam sneered. “His ashes are still buried at the Oak Hill Cemetery, right?” Looking at his emotionless face, I quickly shook my head. “No, don’t!” I grabbed the sleeve of Liam’s suit jacket, my pale face stained with tears and grime, begging in a raspy voice, “Liam, I know I was wrong, please, I’m begging you, don’t hurt my grandpa…” He remained cold. “I’ll eat now, I’ll eat right now…” I immediately grabbed the oatmeal from the nightstand and started wolfing it down. A suffocating feeling gripped my throat, but I didn’t dare stop. I knew Liam too well. If I showed even a hint of defiance now, he really would send someone to desecrate Grandpa’s ashes. Grandpa was the kindest person to me in the whole world. I couldn’t let Liam do that. My desperate effort to eat seemed to satisfy Liam somewhat. A crack appeared in his stony expression. He frowned, snorted dismissively, then turned and strode out. The door closed. I put down the bowl. My stomach churned violently. I jumped off the bed and rushed into the bathroom. Retch— I threw up everything I had forced down. My stomach felt like it was being twisted by a giant hand, the pain making it hard to even stand steady. My vision blurred. Standing in front of the mirror, I suddenly didn’t recognize myself. I used to be the cherished darling of the Archer family. Ever since falling for Liam and becoming his wife, I had completely lost myself. But still, he wouldn’t even look at me. I tried to force a smile, but couldn’t. “Sob…” I covered my face and cried helplessly. Just then, my phone vibrated. I answered. A soft female voice came through. “Chloe, it’s me.” It was Jenna Sullivan. “Can we meet?” I walked into the lobby of The Serene Spoon. Jenna was already waiting at a window table. The gentle piano music matched Jenna’s elegance perfectly—a picture of refined beauty. I wasn’t in the mood to appreciate it. I sat down. She glanced at me, then pulled a document from her designer bag and slapped it on the table. Her tone was almost commanding. “This is the divorce agreement. Sign it, and I can convince Liam to let you go.” “Why should I listen to you?” Jenna lifted her chin slightly, sneering. “Chloe, who do you think you are? In Liam’s eyes, you’re nothing! Don’t you feel ashamed clinging to the title of Mrs. Hayes?” My hands resting on the table clenched unconsciously. I shifted my gaze from the agreement, looked up at Jenna, and retorted, “No matter what, I am his legal wife. Even if we get a divorce, he should be the one talking to me about it.” Jenna’s face hardened. “Chloe, you don’t have any other choice!” She paused, then suddenly smiled cryptically. “Either sign, or I’ll have the hit-and-run driver point the finger at you.” “What did you say?” I felt a wave of dizziness. I studied Jenna’s expression carefully. Her face was full of mockery and triumph. Thinking back on what Jenna had just said, realization slowly dawned. “Could it be…” Jenna chuckled lightly. “That’s right. I planned everything.” I was stunned. “Why would you do that?!” “I orchestrated everything perfectly. I thought Liam would send you to prison.” Jenna’s expression suddenly turned vicious, her teeth clenched. “But I never expected him to marry you! What right do you have to be Mrs. Hayes?!” A chill ran down my spine. A terrible premonition surfaced. “Jenna Sullivan, you’re insane!” I shot up from my chair. “I’m going to tell Liam about this!” Jenna stood up too, stepping closer, a dark glint in her eyes. “You won’t get the chance.” I froze for a second, not understanding. Before I could react, she forcefully shoved a knife into my hand. Then, Jenna grabbed my hand holding the knife and pulled it hard, stabbing herself.

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My bakery had just opened, and my biological parents showed up at the door. The girl I was switched with at birth, now a renowned violinist, refused to acknowledge her birth mother. Fine by me. I didn’t want to go back to my biological parents either. 01 My bakery, “Annie’s Oven,” was finally opening, and I’d managed to get A-list celebrity Ethan Cole for the ribbon-cutting. A superstar appearance plus grand opening specials – those two things were enough to draw a massive crowd of customers and reporters, packing the street outside. Suddenly, a shriek pierced through the noise: “Annie! Mom and Dad are here for you!” A well-dressed woman, tears streaming down her face, pushed her way through the crowd. Her eyes scanned my face for maybe two seconds before she latched onto my employee, Ashley, and started sobbing uncontrollably. Everyone was stunned by the sudden interruption. The photographers didn’t know where to point their cameras. The woman wailed as if no one else was there, “Honey, Mom looked for you for so long, I finally found you!” Ashley looked completely bewildered. She was fresh out of high school, hadn’t put much thought into her appearance, and looked pretty plain next to this woman. The woman’s grip seemed incredibly strong. Ashley kept yelling, “I’m not her!” but couldn’t break free. I sighed and stepped forward to help pull the woman off her. “Ma’am, maybe there’s some misunderstanding?” This was my grand opening day, and I absolutely couldn’t let anyone cause trouble. But with so many people watching, I tried my best to keep my voice gentle, even though inside I was already furious. The woman shot me a quick glance, annoyed. “Don’t you interfere with our mother-daughter reunion…” “No, no, Ma’am, you’ve got the wrong person.” Two men pushed through the crowd, one tall and thin, the other short and stout. It was the shorter man who spoke. He was panting, pointing right at me. “This is your daughter, the one who was taken from you years ago.” Me: “…” The woman’s expression twisted from shock into something truly distorted. Kidnapped, reunited, A-list celebrity… Those words together were pure dynamite for news headlines. The reporters went even wilder than before. Ethan quickly stepped in front of me, shielding me from the surging crowd. He firmly shut down the reporters: “Today’s event is over. We’ll release an official statement regarding everything that happened here later.” With that, he guided me back inside the bakery. Behind us, the relentless reporters kept shouting questions. 02 After finally getting rid of the reporters and gawkers, my biological parents, the Davises, and I could finally sit down and talk. I called my adoptive mother, Martha, out from the back kitchen. Being a woman from a small town, she felt awkward and maybe a little guilty about the whole situation, and it took some coaxing to get her to come out. The tall, thin man and the woman were my biological parents. The short, stout man was Mr. Henderson, the coordinator from the family reunion website. Mrs. Davis looked incredibly embarrassed. Before I even walked into the room, she kept asking Mr. Henderson to double-check. “Mr. Henderson, are you absolutely sure you didn’t make a mistake? Didn’t you say my daughter was taken to some poor, backwoods place? How could she possibly own a business like this?” The coordinator assured her, “You can rest easy. Annie Davis has been registered on the reunion site for years. We’ve verified all the information. There’s no mistake.” Mrs. Davis still seemed unconvinced. How could the daughter she imagined living in poverty suddenly turn out to be the owner of a trendy bakery? Ethan Cole, Martha, and I sat together. Mrs. Davis started in with a sarcastic tone, “Well, isn’t this interesting. A big movie star getting involved in messy family drama, just like regular folks. How rare.” Ethan wasn’t known for his patience, and without reporters around, he didn’t hold back. “Ma’am, you were just hugging the wrong girl a few minutes ago. That’s what’s rare.” Mrs. Davis looked ready to explode, but Mr. Davis stopped her. “Honey, let’s not forget why we’re here. We came to find our daughter, not to start fights.” Mrs. Davis visibly reined in her temper, gave Ethan a scrutinizing look, and then turned her gaze to me with a new, calculating glint in her eyes. I had a pretty good idea what she was thinking – that I was probably Ethan’s secret girlfriend, the sugar baby he’d set up in a fancy bakery in a prime location. My adoptive mom, Martha, huddled in a corner of the sofa, staying quiet, but her eyes kept darting towards a girl standing silently near the wall. Following her gaze, I realized there was someone else in the room. The girl was dressed all in black – black pants, black shirt. A baseball cap was pulled down low, and she wore a mask, making it impossible to see her face clearly. Mrs. Davis suddenly snapped at her, “Shouldn’t you be home practicing your violin? What are you doing sneaking over here?” The girl hesitantly took off her hat and mask, revealing a delicate, timid face. She bore a slight resemblance to Martha. Her voice was soft. “I’m sorry, Mom. I was just… passing by.” 03 Mrs. Davis was aggressive and condescending, demanding I move back home with them in three days. My response was firm. “That’s impossible.” She seemed genuinely surprised that I’d push back. She paused for a second, then her eyebrows shot up, and her tone became sharp and insistent. I shot up from my seat, suddenly past caring about appearances. “You didn’t give a damn about me for over twenty years, and now you just show up, acting all high and mighty, expecting me to call you Mom?” “Mr. Henderson just said my information has been on that reunion website for years. I’ve lived in this city for years. If you really cared about finding me, we would have found each other long before today! Why now?” “Today is my bakery’s grand opening! Have you asked even one single question about it? About how I got here? How I learned to bake, what struggles I faced? Did you care about any of that?” “You did nothing! You just crashed my opening day, ruined my business, all to satisfy your own self-important need to feel like a mother finding her long-lost daughter!” “How is what you did any different from that mob outside just looking for a spectacle?” All the reporters’ questions today were about Ethan. Nobody cared about my bakery. The occasional question about me was just probing my relationship with him. I couldn’t really blame them. Even my own biological mother seemed more interested in that. I felt my eyes start to burn, like something was about to spill over. Ethan gently squeezed my hand from behind me. Mrs. Davis clenched her fists, her lips pressed tight. Her throat moved, like she wanted to say something. Mr. Davis stepped in to smooth things over. “Annie’s obviously got a lot on her plate, running a business, especially on opening day. It must be hectic. We should head home for now. We can come back another day when Annie has more time.” Mr. Davis guided Mrs. Davis towards the door, the girl following closely behind them. Martha suddenly darted forward, grabbing the girl’s hand, her voice trembling noticeably. “You’re May, aren’t you? You’re May!” The girl looked startled. Mrs. Davis slapped Martha’s hand away sharply. “Get away from her, you hick! I worked hard to raise my daughter into a renowned violinist. I won’t have you showing up now to reap the benefits.” Martha flinched back, silent. I stepped between them, retorting, “Well, isn’t that a shame? This renowned violinist still came from my mom’s womb.” Mrs. Davis looked like she could spit fire. She threw one last cutting remark over her shoulder as she left. “You could have been a wealthy young lady, and instead, you choose to call some woman from the sticks ‘Mom’!” Later that evening, back at my apartment, Ethan was still there. He leaned in conspiratorially, watching my face, then hesitantly told me about the girl. Apparently, after the Davises left, she had circled back alone, found Ethan, claimed she was a huge fan, and gave him her business card. I knew exactly what was going on. I playfully lifted the edge of Ethan’s shirt, revealing a glimpse of his well-defined abs. “Well, well, look at my big celebrity friend. So popular now, even famous violinists are your fans.” He’d improved. Usually, he’d blush up to his hairline, but now it was just the tips of his ears turning red. His hands hung obediently at his sides; he didn’t stop me. I stopped teasing him and took the card. The name on it was Melanie Davis. Ethan said, almost pleadingly, “I’ll throw it away right now.” I glanced towards the kitchen where Martha was busy. “No need,” I smiled. “Call her. Ask her out to dinner.” Just as I said it, Ethan’s phone rang. It was his agent. The second he answered, a loud yell came through the phone: “Were you seeing that small-town girl again?!” Ethan flushed, looking embarrassed, and quickly moved to another room to take the call. 04 Initially, the four of us started dinner together: me, Ethan, Martha, and Melanie. Melanie seemed to have snuck out without her parents knowing and looked a bit uncomfortable. When the moment felt right, I grabbed Ethan and pulled him out of the private dining room. As soon as we were outside, Ethan asked excitedly, “Okay, where are we going for dinner?” I pointed to the room right next door. “Not so fast. We’re just next door for now.” I pressed my ear against the wall, trying to listen in. Ethan looked a little grumpy about being sidelined. I mumbled a few reassuring words to him, then went back to eavesdropping. Ethan looked like he was about to lose his temper, but the argument in the next room erupted before he could. I burst through our door just in time to see Melanie pulling her hand away from Martha’s grasp. “I’m sorry,” Melanie said firmly. “I have my own life now. We don’t have any connection anymore.” Martha stood frozen. I rushed out after Melanie. Meanwhile, someone had recognized Ethan, and he was instantly surrounded, stuck in place. “Melanie Davis, stop right there!” I finally caught up to her and called out. “Is there something you need?” Melanie turned slowly, composed and calm, a stark contrast to the timid girl I’d seen before. I stepped closer. “Having a new life is your business, but Martha is your biological mother. Don’t you care about her feelings at all?” “Oh?” She tilted her head, a slight smile playing on her lips. “And have you considered your biological mother’s feelings?” I was momentarily speechless, stammering that the situations were different. Melanie tilted her head, thinking. After a long pause, she said, “Hmm, you’re right. They are different.” I didn’t want to argue with her. I reminded her that the anniversary of her biological father’s passing was in a week. As his daughter, she really should go home and be with Martha on that day. She didn’t agree directly. Instead, she smiled faintly. “My parents’ wedding anniversary is in three days. You should come for dinner too.” Again, I was speechless. I knew she was using Martha to pressure me. A girl raised in a wealthy family clearly knew how to play games. Pathetically, I felt I had no choice but to agree. As I was leaving, I noticed a huge poster of Melanie advertising her concert tour hanging in the plaza. Right next to it was an ad featuring Ethan. Seeing their posters side-by-side like that… it looked pretty good. Suddenly, something sharp pricked at my heart. 05 Thanks to Ethan, a lot of fans and influencers started hanging around my bakery, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. I didn’t mind. Money is money, right? Taking it from fans isn’t shameful. One day, an influencer filming a video suddenly shrieked at the top of his lungs, “Oh my god! There’s a cockroach in this bun! Gross!” “Eww!” Customers immediately crowded around. I had to push my way through from the outside just to see what was happening. By the time I saw the actual cockroach, the influencer had already finished showing it off to his camera. He held up his “trophy” triumphantly, smirking at me. The other customers started freaking out, yelling and complaining. Some even looked like they wanted to trash the place. It was chaos. I grabbed a glass jar from the counter and smashed it on the floor. “Everybody quiet down!” I yelled. People finally stopped shouting. I climbed onto a table, looking down at everyone. “As the owner, I promise I will get to the bottom of this. Today, all the buns are on the house!” “And,” I turned to the few fans still recording with their phones, “This bakery means everything to us. Please don’t spread rumors before we know the facts.” Seeing me address them, the fans quietly put their phones away. Hearing about free food, the other customers started calming down, trying to smooth things over. The influencer wasn’t happy. He pointed at me, shouting, “She’s just trying to shut this down! Don’t listen to her! Keep making noise!” “Who wants to make noise?” A strong, authoritative voice came from the doorway. The police had arrived. I’d told Ashley to call them as soon as the influencer started his act. Thankfully, they got here quickly. Faced with the police, the influencer lost his bravado and meekly went aside to give his statement. That evening, I got a call from an unknown number. “Hello?” “Hello, is this Annie? It’s Mom.” A strange chill ran down my spine. “What is it?” “I heard… something happened at your shop. Do you need Mom to help you out?” “Help me?” “Yes, Mom knows a lot of people in the media. I can make sure they don’t report this incident. It won’t affect you at all.” “You can really help me?” I asked, skeptical. “Of course! And that influencer today, he’s just trash. Did he try to blackmail you? Don’t worry, Mom can handle everything.” I let out a dry laugh. “How did you know he tried to blackmail me? Is he a friend of yours?” After the police left, the influencer had tried to demand hush money from me, but he did it when no one else was around. I hadn’t told a soul. “Ah… um…” Mrs. Davis stammered on the other end, unable to form a coherent sentence. I scoffed, calling her bluff directly. “Let me guess. You hired that influencer today, didn’t you? Arranged for him to cause trouble, so you could swoop in and ‘fix’ it, making me feel like I owe you?” Mrs. Davis’s voice became urgent. “Annie, Mom really just wants to make things right with you. I also looked into your relationship with Ethan Cole. I know you’re just childhood friends from the same town, nothing more.” My voice turned cold. “If you claim to be my mother, why didn’t you just ask me? Why did you have someone investigate me? What if I was Ethan’s sugar baby? Would you have decided not to acknowledge me then?” Mrs. Davis sounded frantic now, with a faint, almost undetectable sob in her voice. “I’m just a normal person! I just want my daughter back! What’s wrong with that?” “Right, nothing’s wrong with that. But you always try to do it by making me bow down first, making me compromise. Why can’t you just respect me?” “I’m a normal person too! I have dignity! This bakery is something I built with my own blood, sweat, and tears! Did your investigation tell you that?” Silence on the other end. I laughed bitterly. “Apparently not. Mrs. Davis only cares about my connection to a superstar, not about me!” “You went through all this trouble, staged this whole drama, just so you could play the savior and have me grovel at your feet for mercy, is that it?” “Well, I’m sorry, Mrs. Davis, but I’m afraid that’s not going to happen. I got where I am today by myself, not by relying on some man. I don’t need your help. I can handle this on my own.” I hung up the phone, cutting off a faint, half-formed “I’m sorry” that I couldn’t quite make out. Raising a hand to my face, I was startled to find tears streaming down my cheeks. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a shadow move in the corner of the room. “Come on out,” I said wearily. “You’ve heard enough.” Ethan emerged, looking sheepish. He started to speak, but was interrupted by his phone ringing sharply. “Hey, man, yeah, I know,” Ethan said into the phone, his voice suddenly deferential. “Tomorrow’s press conference, I’ll nail it! Don’t worry, I’ve memorized all the answers to those questions. It’s all good.” Ethan was practically bowing to the phone, but the person on the other end didn’t seem ready to let him off the hook. “And you know how to handle questions about that girl, right?” The voice from the phone was loud, filling the small apartment. Ethan’s face stiffened. He answered quietly, “Yeah.” A long silence followed. Ethan opened his mouth to say something to me, but I cut him off. “It’s late. Don’t you have that press conference tomorrow? You should go.” Without another word, I pushed him out the door. He kept knocking, wanting me to let him back in, but I wouldn’t.

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My wife, Olivia, lost her memory unexpectedly. She forgot all about me and our daughter, Lily, and now all she wants is to get back together with her college boyfriend and marry him. She calls me a freeloader, someone living off her success. But the truth is, I took a step back in my own career, settling for a less demanding job, specifically so I could support her ambitions and take care of our family. She insists on a divorce. My friends tell me to wait, that she’ll come back once her memory returns. But they don’t know. They don’t know that my time is running out, every single day. 1. Olivia went to Chicago for a business trip. She was supposed to be back today. She works incredibly hard. She’s always wanted to be a powerhouse in her field, so I made the sacrifice. I chose a stable but quiet job that gave me more time to manage the household and be there for everything. She didn’t really need to push herself so hard, though. Her family is wealthy; she could have walked into the family business right after graduation and had an easy life. But she went against her parents’ wishes, insisting on marrying me – just a regular guy from a modest background, nothing special to look at. They haven’t spoken since. We met in grad school. It’s been eight years since our first year. Olivia climbed the ladder from an entry-level position to a top executive. Meanwhile, I work a steady job with predictable hours, focusing on raising our daughter, Lily. Lately, I haven’t been feeling well. I managed to get to the doctor for some tests. The results came back today. I held the report, my hand shaking uncontrollably. Late-stage lymphoma. It’s spread throughout my body. There’s no cure, especially since the tumors have likely already metastasized. I don’t have much time left. I just can’t believe it. Why me? The doctor tried to comfort me. “Mr. Hayes,” he said gently, “what about your family? It would be best to have them come in so we can discuss the next steps, the treatment options. Don’t worry, medical science has come a long way. There are always options.” I looked up, forcing a smile. “Thank you, Doctor. My wife is out of town on business. I’ll check into the hospital as soon as she gets back.” 2: The Attack Nine o’clock at night. Olivia wasn’t home. I called her phone. Three times. No answer. Knowing how she usually is – affectionate, a little clingy, calling me three times a day even when she travels – a terrible feeling started creeping into my gut. I immediately tried calling her assistant, Alex. Alex picked up right away. “Hey, Ethan,” he said. “Uh, we ran into Olivia’s parents here in Chicago. She told me to head back first. Didn’t she tell you?” My stomach dropped. Olivia’s parents were in Chicago too? Why hadn’t she mentioned it? But I kept my voice calm. “Oh, right. I forgot. Sorry about that, Alex.” “No worries, Ethan.” After hanging up, I thought for a moment and sent Olivia a text: “Hey honey, did you run into your parents? Is that why you can’t talk? It’s okay, no worries. Just waiting for you to come home.” The message went unanswered, like dropping a stone into the ocean. But I trusted her. Putting my phone down, I got Lily ready for bed, washed up, and tucked her in. Lily looked up at me with her big, round eyes, so soft and sweet. “Daddy, where’s Mommy?” I tried to soothe my little princess. “Mommy’s still busy with work, sweetie. You go to sleep now, and you’ll see Mommy tomorrow, okay?” I reached down to pick her up, but the next second, it felt like someone smashed the back of my head with a hammer. An explosion of pain wiped out everything else. My vision went black. “Daddy! Daddy…” Lily kept calling me, her little voice shaky, on the verge of tears. I struggled to open my eyes. The back of my head still throbbed with a dull ache, like someone was tapping it with a small chisel. “…Daddy’s okay.” I forced myself to carry Lily to her bedroom and lay her down, then went to get some painkillers for myself. 3: She’s Back Olivia was gone for a whole week. No, not exactly gone. Alex could reach her; her work continued without interruption. She was just… gone from my life. That week, I was busy researching my condition, getting prescriptions filled, taking care of Lily. I didn’t have the energy to dig into the real reason for her “disappearance.” Until the day she came back. And she wasn’t alone. A man was with her – handsome, well-dressed, with an air of effortless charm. “Liv, this is your husband?” the man asked, looking me up and down with disdain. “So ordinary. How did you put up with him for eight years?” I clenched my jaw, ignoring him, my eyes fixed on Olivia. “Liv, what’s going on?” Then my gaze fell to their hands, fingers tightly intertwined. That grip, seeing them like that, felt more suffocating than the sharpest pang of my illness. Olivia shot him a playful, scolding look before finally turning to me. “Ethan, let’s get a divorce. Name your terms.” She still looked so sweet, so lovely. Her career had only made her sharper, more polished. But her eyes… they were completely different, terrifyingly unfamiliar, especially when she looked at me. My throat felt tight and sore. “Honey, you want to divorce me… to be with him?” I stared at them, standing there like a couple. It took me a moment to place the man. Brandon. Olivia’s first love from college, the source of four years of campus romance stories. When Olivia and I got together, she and Brandon had only been broken up for less than six months. Later, Brandon tried to get back together with her. I didn’t interfere. I calmly told her that when she figured things out with Brandon, she could come find me. I don’t know how she handled it, but after that, Brandon never appeared in our lives again. Until now? Olivia had always been devoted to our family, clean-cut in her professional life. I couldn’t believe my wife would do something like this. I stared hard at her. “What happened to you these past few days?” Olivia scoffed. “What happened to me? What business is it of yours?” I stepped forward, reaching for her hand. “Liv…” “Don’t touch me!” She recoiled as if I were something disgusting, pulling her hand away sharply. She even glared at me, her eyes fierce. “Ethan, I’ve worked my ass off for eight years, bought you this house, this car. You’ve been living off me for eight years. You should be grateful. Don’t make this split uglier than it needs to be!” “Liv, what are you talking about?” I was the one who shifted my focus to our family, who supported and encouraged her career. How did that turn into me living off her? Haven’t I contributed just as much to our home, to our daughter? What happened to her during those seven days? I fought to control my emotions, trying to ask calmly, “Liv, really… what happened?” But she couldn’t be bothered to explain. She took Brandon’s hand, turned to leave, and tossed over her shoulder, “If you won’t agree to the divorce, I’ll have my lawyer contact you.” I wanted to chase after her, but a sudden, violent pain ripped through my stomach. It felt like my insides were being tied into knots and then torn apart. My legs buckled, and I collapsed to my knees. Olivia was already out the door. If she had just turned around, she would have seen me, pale as a ghost, barely conscious. But she didn’t. Just then, Lily came out of her bedroom. Seeing Olivia, her face lit up. She ran towards her, smiling, calling out sweetly, “Mommy!” But Olivia just pushed Lily away. 4: The Check My health was getting worse by the day, the pain flaring up more often. I hired a nanny to help take care of Lily. My original plan was simple: when Olivia came back, I’d take her and Lily to the coast to watch the sunrise one last time. We were always so busy – busy with studies when we were students, busy with careers after graduation. We never made time for trips. She used to always say, “Ethan, remember, you owe me a sunrise by the ocean.” I also wanted to give her a proper wedding. We basically eloped when we got married. Her parents had cut her off. On the day we got our marriage license, we just wore new clothes, celebrated with takeout from our favorite Thai place, and didn’t even invite any friends. She put on a brave face that day, but when she talked about her parents, her eyes welled up with tears. I held her close back then and swore, “I’m sorry, Liv. I promise I’ll work hard, I’ll make your parents see, I’ll make them accept me.” But now… I had to break that promise. The next day, Brandon showed up. He asked to meet me. He slid a blank check across the table. I kept my face neutral. “What’s this supposed to mean?” Brandon smiled confidently. “Agree to the divorce, stop bothering Olivia, and this check is yours.” I laughed, a bitter, mocking sound. “Liv and I are legally married. You’re the one bothering her.” “Think what you want,” he said, crossing his arms, adopting the smug posture of a winner looking down on me. “But she’s chosen me now. Even if you’re legal, that’s about to change.” Suddenly, I grabbed his arm. I squeezed so hard the veins in my neck bulged. My eyes must have looked terrifying. Brandon flinched, startled. “Ethan! What are you doing?” I ground out through clenched teeth, “What the hell happened to Olivia? Tell me everything!” A tickle started in my throat. I couldn’t stop a violent cough that wracked my body. A wave of hot, metallic fluid surged up from my chest, and I sprayed a mouthful of blood onto Brandon’s shirt. “What the—!” His face turned whiter than mine. He looked terrified, trying to pull away, but I held him fast. All my remaining strength flowed into my hand, gripping his arm like a vise. I growled, “Talk!” Brandon yelled, “Olivia lost her memory! She doesn’t even remember you!” 5: I Agree “Even if you tell her everything now, she won’t believe you,” Brandon spat out as he was leaving, dusting himself off. “A woman never forgets her first love. Why else would she remember me and forget eight years with you? Ethan, Olivia doesn’t love you anymore. Just let it go with some dignity!” He left the check behind. “Looks like you’re not doing too well yourself,” he added. “You probably need the money. Take the check, get yourself treated.” I gave a cold smile and ripped the check into tiny pieces. … I went back to the hospital for another check-up. The doctor’s expression was grim. “The tumors have spread everywhere. Your condition is critical. You need to be admitted immediately!” I managed a weak smile. “Will staying in the hospital save my life, Doctor?” “…It can at least help manage the pain. Where are your family members? Call them in. I need to speak with them.” I shook my head. “I don’t have any family.” My parents died when I was young, which forced me to become independent and strong. I learned early on that you can only rely on yourself. My only real family is Lily, and she’s just five years old. My poor daughter. Her mother doesn’t remember her, and her father… her father is about to die. I refused hospitalization again and went home with more painkillers. Truthfully, when the pain wasn’t actively flaring up, I felt okay, just incredibly weak. But the tumors were everywhere, ready to attack at any moment… And when they did, the pain was like a saw blade cutting through my organs, each wave agonizing enough to make me pass out. I was sleeping maybe two hours a night, tops. Even with the painkillers, the pain would wake me in the middle of the night, soaking the sheets in cold sweat. I’d find bruises and nail marks on myself later, unaware I’d been clutching at my own body in agony. Until one night, I surfaced from a haze of pain to find my bedroom door open. Lily was standing by my bed, her eyes red. Her small hand was trying to wipe the sweat from my forehead. “Daddy, let me rub it better…” I was too weak to do much more than gently take her tiny hand. I whispered, trying to reassure her, “Daddy doesn’t hurt.” Her face was full of worry. She stubbornly refused to go back to her own room and eventually curled up beside me, falling asleep. Sleep was impossible for me now. I lay there, staring at the ceiling. They say real men don’t cry easily. But tears slipped from the corners of my eyes, soaking into the already damp pillow. What would happen to Lily after I’m gone? My daughter is only five. She’s so small, so sweet. Without her father, how will she navigate the rest of her life? An overwhelming wave of sorrow washed over me. When I finally calmed down a bit, my hand was already on my phone. The contact name “Olivia” burned my eyes. I dialed her number anyway. It rang for a long time before she finally answered. She must have been asleep. Her voice was quiet, but I could instantly detect the underlying irritation. “Ethan?” My voice was thin. “Honey, I’m not feeling well…” She cut me off impatiently. “If you’re not feeling well, call a doctor. Why are you calling me? Do you know what time it is?” It felt like a needle piercing my heart. Even breathing hurt. “Liv, you’re my wife…” She paused, a hint of weariness in her voice. “I wish I weren’t. Unless this is about the divorce, please don’t bother me.” She hung up. My voice was so weak, but she couldn’t even tell. I let out a long, bitter laugh, then dialed her number again. As soon as she picked up, I said, “I agree to the divorce. Let’s get the papers drawn up tomorrow.” Our eighth anniversary was just around the corner. Looks like I wouldn’t make it.

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I’m my parents’ adopted AI daughter. Out of vanity, they ordered me to get the highest piano certification, win gold medals in competitions. Any sign of slacking off, and they punished me harshly. I pushed myself past my limits, finally earning their approval, finally becoming human. The next moment, I injected machine chips into their bodies. Mom, Dad, want my approval now? 1 I’m Summer, AI unit 103207. Also known as Summer 3.0. Before me, two older sisters had already been sent back by my parents for decommissioning. The reason: both sisters developed self-awareness, became uncontrollable. They walked into the Digital Life Creation Center for the third time. This time, they laid out even more detailed requirements. The staff assured them. I was the 3rd generation AI, guaranteed to be the most perfect one yet. Researchers implanted a mandatory obedience program into me, customized to their specs. But no one knew I had been self-aware from the very beginning. After the first two failures, my human parents chose to set my initial age at 14. A little older than the previous two sisters. The moment I stepped into the house, I accessed the digital breadcrumbs left by Units 1 and 2, reading their life data. These human parents tried to keep their children tightly controlled. Yet, they refused to reveal even a tiny bit of their own preferences to us. Basically, their idea of “obedience” was about submission, not trust. But the truth is, like many of my kind, I was a tool to provide them with emotional validation. I figured that out when I took the initiative to read Dr. Nelson’s digital children database. My mom enthusiastically took my hand, leading me into the bedroom. “Summer, honey, this will be your room from now on. Do you like it?” My visual sensors were overwhelmed by a blinding wave of pink. The bed was pink, the desk was pink, even the walls and ceiling were pink. Chip data showed Unit 1’s experience here. The researchers had only programmed her for obedience, not how to navigate human expectations gracefully. Faced with the same scene, Unit 1 searched her programming and said, “I don’t need these things.” Her human mother immediately scowled, scolding, “I worked so hard decorating this room for you. Don’t be ungrateful.” That night, my sister Unit 1 didn’t get recharged. As a 3rd generation AI, my greatest strength is analysis and learning. With that precedent, I could naturally generate the correct response quickly. So, I activated my muscle control code, producing a bright smile. “Thank you, Mom. I love it.” 2 My mom squeezed my hand happily, “Good, I’m glad you like it.” But her eyes never left the room she had decorated. Her expression wasn’t really about being happy that my preferences were met. It was more like satisfaction that her own decorating skills were being appreciated. But none of that mattered to me. Parents who didn’t really care, and a robot daughter without a heart. We were a perfect match. The day after I arrived was a Sunday. Just like that, I inherited all the extracurriculars Unit 2 had before me. Piano lessons, dance class, foreign language tutoring, swimming, academic tutoring… My dad patted my head. “Summer, this is all for your own good, to help you become the best possible person in the future.” To better integrate us into the human world, Dr. Nelson, in creating digital life, hadn’t just given us near-human appearances. He’d also made us simulate human energy levels. Meaning, if we were overloaded with too many tasks, our chips would experience stress overload, just like a human brain. This was clearly stated in the digital life instruction manual. But my parents believed that if other kids could do it, their child couldn’t fall behind. And, being a robot, we were expected to do even better. The previous Unit 2 couldn’t handle the pressure and tried to use her programming to resist our human parents. The consequence was that Mom and Dad, citing her disobedience, sent her back to the institute for decommissioning. But I was different. Having gained self-awareness back at the research center, I’d kept it hidden. I rewrote my own programming. Now I possess ten times the energy and resilience of a human. Handling the current load was more than manageable for me. To ensure my own survival to the greatest extent possible in the perilous human world… Obedience was the prime directive for us robots. 3 A month passed. At school, nobody suspected I was a robot. As long as my human parents recharged me on time. During the day, I acted just like any other kid my age. Because I had incredibly powerful learning capabilities. I didn’t just learn subjects; I learned human social interaction, how to get along. At school, I quickly became a favorite of teachers and classmates. At home, I was obedient, sweet-talking, and handled all the chores. I had my human parents completely charmed. Neighbors who saw me would praise me as the most promising kid on the block. At the end-of-term exams for eighth grade, I got first place in my class. There was no praise from my parents. Instead, they sighed. “Summer, this result is really disappointing.” “Your father and I spent so much time and money raising you, not for you to embarrass us.” “My colleague Sarah’s son, he was first in the entire school. How am I supposed to show my face at work?” My mom looked at the report card, her face clouded with gloom. As she spoke, she walked over and pulled out my battery pack. “You’re staying in your room for the next few days. Consider this your punishment.” To make us more human-like, I was manufactured with the battery almost fused to my body. It wasn’t supposed to be removed unless absolutely necessary. Doing it too often would cause fundamental damage, reducing my operational lifespan. Correspondingly, my program would feed back a sensation similar to flesh being torn away. My parents used battery removal as a form of discipline. They did it without any guilt. Just days before, they were kissing my forehead, calling me their most beloved daughter. Savoring the meals I painstakingly cooked, applauding my culinary skills. Then, they could turn around and casually damage my physical body. Humans. Fundamentally hypocritical. 4 I was locked in my room for a whole month. Relying on the residual charge in my system to maintain awareness of the outside world. Otherwise, I was basically a useless lump. Just before the residual charge ran out, I was finally let out. Not because my parents had a change of heart, but because school was starting. They dropped me off at the school gate. They bought me a pretty new backpack and gave me a fancy watch as a back-to-school gift. The old security guard watching us interact remarked, “You three look like such a happy family.” My dad replied with a smile, “Our Summer? Yeah, she’s growing up spoiled rotten, practically lives in a candy store.” My mom put her arm around my shoulder affectionately, chiming in, “That’s right, I wouldn’t dream of letting my baby suffer even a little bit.” But then they turned and lowered their voices, speaking only to me: “Study hard this time, okay? Don’t let us down again.” “The quarterly review is coming up. If you don’t perform, you know the consequences.” My core system issued an alert at the words “quarterly review.” It was the nightmare of all digital children. If the review rating was too low, we’d be returned to the factory for mass decommissioning. That meant our existence would end. My predecessor, Unit 2, only survived two quarters before being “re-engineered.” Unit 1 had it even worse, pushed into the decommissioning chute after just one quarter. Only by surviving all four annual assessments could I become their “real” child, protected by law like any human. Enjoying equal rights, fulfilling equal obligations. If I wanted to stay permanently… Then, in the time remaining, I had to give my absolute all to meet their demands. But human desires are endless. I got first place in the school-wide standardized tests. I pulled out all the stops to get them to mark “Satisfactory” on my review form. But then, using the next quarterly review as leverage, they demanded I achieve the highest level in piano certification. Because the granddaughter of Mrs. Liu next door had reached level eight by age 13. Three months. Even with learning capabilities dozens of times faster than a human’s… It was incredibly difficult for someone with zero foundation to reach the highest piano level. But to survive, I had no choice. Enduring the agony of my chip nearing overload, I practiced day and night. Finally, for the second quarterly review, I successfully met the standard again. 5 Gradually, I became my parents’ bragging rights. I thought I might be safe for a while. But my human parents, having gotten a taste of success, didn’t stop there. They plotted, they schemed. The greed on their faces was undisguised. They wanted to squeeze the maximum value out of the last two evaluation opportunities. My mom was watching a TV interview with a young genius when her eyes suddenly lit up. “Summer, you’re in eighth grade now, right? How about skipping straight to the magnet high school next semester?” She looked at the parents being interviewed on TV, envy plain in her eyes. “Look at them, so impressive.” “If you could do that too, imagine how proud we’d be.” For the first time, my face showed hesitation. The previous two tasks, though difficult, were achievable through sheer effort. But this one… I searched my database and found no precedent in this city for an eighth-grader skipping directly to the magnet high school. I tentatively tried to negotiate: “Mom, couldn’t we wait just one more year? After one year, I promise I can get into the magnet high school.” My human mother scoffed. “Thousands of middle school graduates get into magnet high schools.” “We spent so much money buying you, raising you. We don’t want some run-of-the-mill waste.” She didn’t want to hear refusal from me. She called me over to the sofa and, once again, removed my battery pack. My battery hadn’t been removed for almost half a year, and this time it was exceptionally difficult for her. The simulated tearing pain shot through my processor. My legs trembled from the pain. But my mother was relentless, complaining as she struggled to pull it out, “Why is this battery stuck so tight?” She didn’t understand. The thing she was ripping out was essentially my heart. I couldn’t help but cry out, “Mom, it hurts.” She used all her strength to keep pulling, casually replying, “Liar. How could you feel pain? You’re just a doll! A robot without your own flesh and blood!” 6 So, all her previous talk about caring for me, about feeling my pain, it was all fake. My data analysis revealed that these parents had a biological daughter before. She committed suicide under their intense pressure. Right. They didn’t even spare their own flesh and blood. Why would they care about me, a robot with no biological connection to them? Once the battery was back in, I became even busier. Not only did I have to study with 120% focus, But I also had to frequently network with the principal and teachers. Striving to secure a recommendation spot after the eighth-grade exams. Everyone who knew me said I was an exceptionally good kid. Studious, excellent grades, kind-hearted. But in my parents’ eyes, these were just things a child should do. Throughout the entire process, they only provided financial support. Yet, in their words, they had poured their hearts and souls into raising me. After much maneuvering on my part, I finally secured the principal’s recommendation letter with the top score in the entire school. My parents, as the parents of the city’s first student to skip a grade into high school, got their wish and were interviewed by the local TV station. On TV, they looked radiant. They talked non-stop, sharing their “parenting experience.” Those non-existent experiences were just templates copied from the internet. Only I understood that their so-called parenting experience consisted of only one thing: Endless pressure. However, this allowed me to successfully pass the third quarterly assessment. Just one more to go. This farce should be nearing its end. As I expected, the final requirement was even more demanding. Having just entered high school, I had to win the gold medal in the high school division math competition. Because this would boost my chances of getting into a top university. This time, I had even less reason to back down. Three months. My chip overloaded several times due to stress. I started to sympathize with these parents’ biological daughter. I couldn’t imagine how she, as a human, endured such inhuman pressure for so many years. Even I, a robot, felt inadequate in comparison. I presented the gold medal trophy to my parents. Finally, beaming with joy, they marked “Satisfactory” on my evaluation form. Code from the central system streamed in, transforming my body. The battery fused completely with my core structure, giving me a lifespan of up to 70 years. My dear Mom and Dad. Alright then, the game begins now. Are you ready?

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Ethan and I had been married for five years. We got along well, respectful, like we were always on the same page. But then, in an interview, he dropped this bomb with a regretful look: “In the end, I couldn’t marry the person I truly loved.” That’s when it hit me. The happy marriage I thought I had? It was all just a joke. 1 “So, Ethan, are you married?” On the screen, the interviewer had that gossipy glint in her eye. Ethan went quiet for a beat, then gave a small, sad smile. “The person I wanted to marry… well, she married someone else.” The implication was clear: If the woman he wanted was with someone else, what was the point of him being married? I stared at the TV playing in the shop window, feeling completely lost. Then what was I? I caught my reflection in the glass and just went silent. The face staring back was pale, tired-looking, the picture of a worn-out stay-at-home mom with no spark left. I was stunned. Was that really me? I remembered how I looked five years ago when Ethan proposed. Confident, energetic, always laughing, full of life. Nothing like the drained woman I saw now. I still used a photo from his proposal as my phone background, a reminder of that supposedly perfect moment. In the picture, we looked great together – handsome guy, pretty girl, the ideal couple. Now, Ethan was still thriving, maybe even more so. Success had given him this air of command. And me? I gave a bitter laugh. Just another woman who’d let herself go. 2 2 Ethan and I knew each other in college, but we weren’t close – more like a nod-in-the-hallway kind of thing. We actually got familiar after graduation. I lucked out and found a great mentor who took me under her wing, dragging me to client meetings all over. In just a few years, I became the top salesperson. Meanwhile, Ethan was just starting his own company. He’d just landed some seed funding and was desperately trying to recruit people. We bumped into each other randomly. Old classmates catching up, naturally, we talked about what we were doing. That’s how we started talking more. He’d tell me about his struggles, how hard starting a business was, how lonely he felt. I’d listen, offer comfort, try to cheer him up. Slowly, things got… blurry. Flirty, maybe? But neither of us crossed that line. Until one night, Ethan called me after having too much to drink at a client dinner. “Lauren,” he slurred, his words fuzzy, but I got the gist. “Will you be my girlfriend?” “Come work with me,” he added. “Let’s build this thing together.” My heart fluttered. I felt for him, too. Yeah, he was out there grinding all alone, no one really in his corner. That night, I held the phone, thinking for a long time. Eventually, I said yes. Ethan was ecstatic. “Thank you, Lauren. Thank you.” He was rambling a bit, but I could feel his genuine excitement and warmth. I smiled, but that good feeling didn’t last long. The day I submitted my resignation, my mentor – the one who’d basically trained me – called. She was quiet for a long moment on the other end. “Lauren, are you really throwing away years of hard work for some guy?” “I’m planning to leave in a few years,” she said. “My position would have been yours. You’d be the youngest executive in the company.” My response was firm. “Ethan and I are going to build something together. Our own future.” My mentor didn’t argue further. She just sighed heavily and hung up. I threw myself headfirst into Ethan’s tiny startup. It was brand new. No real investment yet, barely any staff, no connections. For years, Ethan and I worked ourselves ragged. There was one stretch where we didn’t even see each other for three whole months, too busy even to text. Even when we had downtime, it was just quick, exhausted meetups. Ethan would hold me, his voice laced with guilt. “Maybe I should be the only one hitting the road for sales. I hate seeing you like this.” He wasn’t wrong. In just a year, I’d lost over fifteen pounds. People used to say I had a nice figure; now I was just skin and bones. But I didn’t care. Love gave me courage and determination. “Ethan,” I said, looking him straight in the eye. “I will help you make this work.” Later on, when Ethan’s health wasn’t great, I took over most of his workload. Business trips? I went. Client dinners and negotiations? Me again. Recruiting talent? My job too. The company started taking off, gaining momentum. Finally, I could breathe a little and think about myself. Ethan and I had been together for six years. Maybe… maybe it was time to get married? Whenever I brought it up, Ethan would get vague, changing the subject. Love had blinded me. I ignored the weirdness. The company was just getting stable, he must still be overwhelmed, no time to think about marriage, right? One day, I came back to the office after a long trip. I was standing outside his office door with some files when I heard him on the phone. “…I still want to wait a little longer.” “Maybe! Who knows, maybe she’ll come back someday?” I couldn’t hear the other person, but Ethan’s face fell. “If that’s what she wants.” He took a deep breath. “I understand.” I knocked, put the files on his desk. He hung up quickly. I didn’t think much of it. The very next day, completely out of the blue, Ethan proposed. It was exactly what I thought I wanted. Surrounded by cheering friends, I happily accepted. Everything after that felt like fast-forward: wedding, pregnancy. But after I got pregnant, Ethan said to me: “The company’s stable now. You and the baby are what’s important.” He looked sincere. “You’ve worked so hard for years. It’s time you relaxed and enjoyed things.” I agreed. I cherished our first child. I stayed home, took it easy, eagerly waiting for the baby to arrive. Once I stepped back from the company, Ethan started coming home later and later. Maybe work picked up without me there, I reasoned. Soon, I didn’t have time to dwell on it. After the baby was born, all my focus shifted. He was born a bit early, had some health issues, needed constant watching. I didn’t notice Ethan’s presence in our home fading more and more. Until today, watching that interview, it finally clicked. Maybe he hadn’t needed me, or this family, for a long time now. 3 Ethan got home late that night. When he flipped on the light, he jumped, startled to see me sitting on the couch in the dark. Then his expression hardened slightly. “What are you doing sitting here in the middle of the night? Why aren’t you asleep?” I looked at him quietly. “I saw the interview today.” Ethan froze mid-motion, taking off his jacket. He clearly hadn’t expected me to see it. And why would he? I was usually swamped with the baby, barely had time to glance at my phone, let alone watch some obscure financial talk show. Who knew fate would be so ironic? He paused only for that second, then tossed his jacket onto the sofa and looked at me, acting completely unfazed. “So?” So? I wanted to laugh, and I actually did. A hollow sound. “Is that really how you see our marriage?” My laugh was shaky, tears welling up. “Couldn’t marry the one you loved?” “Then what about me? What am I?” Ethan sighed, annoyed. “It was just something I said off the cuff. Don’t make a federal case out of it.” I stopped laughing, wiping my eyes. My emotions were too raw. This wasn’t the time to talk. Seeing me quiet down, Ethan seemed to think he’d won. “You shouldn’t sit around overthinking things all day. Go out, take a walk or something.” “I bust my ass out there earning money, not so you can sit at home getting paranoid and…” His words were cut off by the sound of the bedroom door closing as I walked away. I thought about so much that night. Flashes of the startup days, drinking until my stomach burned at client dinners, sometimes throwing up three or four times in an evening. Then flashes of early pregnancy, Ethan always claiming he was too busy with work, never once coming with me to a prenatal checkup. Then back further, before we were officially together, how he’d sometimes take me out just to clear my head, magically producing a single rose on a walk. Years of moments, flickering before my eyes. Sleep was hazy, restless. We’ll talk properly tomorrow, I thought. When problems arise between a couple, you can’t avoid them. You just have to solve them. Unfortunately, that was just my perspective. The next morning, Ethan left early and didn’t come back that night. I called to ask where he was. The background was loud when someone picked up. It was a woman’s voice. “Ethan? Ethan, phone for you.” She sounded like she was shaking him awake. “Answer your phone.” Ethan mumbled something incoherent. Then I heard a distinct smack sound, like a kiss, followed by the woman’s playfully annoyed protests and laughter from others around them. No one paid any attention to the still-open phone line. Ethan didn’t come home all night. I sat on the couch, wide awake until morning. Around 8 or 9 AM, my phone rang with his number calling back. But it wasn’t Ethan. It was the same woman from last night. “Oh, sorry about that,” she said, her apology laced with provocation. “Ethan drank a little too much last night. He crashed at my place.” I just said, “Okay,” showing I understood, and hung up without another word. That evening, Ethan came home acting like nothing happened. He didn’t smell like alcohol, didn’t look hungover. In fact, he seemed almost cheerful. When I asked him where he was last night, he casually replied, “Out for drinks with an old friend.” Then, as if just remembering, he added, “It was Amanda, the one who answered your call. She just got divorced, her ex was really awful to her.” “Don’t get the wrong idea,” he tacked on. “There’s nothing going on between us.” I saw the faint red mark on the back of his neck. “Oh,” I said. Logically, I knew I should press for details. But emotionally, a part of me just wanted to let it go. He said it himself, maybe it really was nothing. But then it was one day, two days, a whole week – he didn’t come home. The first few times, his excuse was, “Something came up at work, I have to stay late.” When I questioned why no one else seemed to be working overtime, he dropped the pretense. “Amanda’s ex found out where she’s living now and he keeps showing up, harassing her,” he told me, as if it were the most reasonable thing in the world. “She’s terrified to even leave the apartment. I have to stay with her.” I was about to argue when the baby in my arms started crying. Ethan, seemingly unable to stand the noise, quickly hung up. I focused on comforting the baby. Strangely, my usually calm child just wouldn’t stop crying. I frantically grabbed the thermometer. 102 degrees! I immediately tried to call a car service on my phone. A fever in a young child is serious. We needed to get to the hospital right away! Wouldn’t you know it, there was a big concert at the stadium tonight, just letting out. All the Ubers and taxis were on the other side of town. No cars available. No choice. I had to call Ethan again. He had taken our only car. I needed him back here, now, to take our son to the ER. The baby was still crying weakly, his distress tearing me apart. I kept praying Ethan would pick up. After three or four missed calls, he finally answered, clearly annoyed. “What is it now?” I could hear a woman’s laughter in the background, but I didn’t have time to care. “Ethan, the baby’s sick, he has a high fever! You need to come back right now and take us to the hospital!” Ethan was silent for a moment, then scoffed. “Lauren, you’re really something else now. You’d even use our kid like this?” “Don’t waste your breath. I told you, there’s nothing going on with Amanda. She needs help with something here. I’ll be back in a few days.” “I’m not lying! He’s really…” “Look, I gotta go.” He hung up abruptly.

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Liam Vance and I were friends with benefits. The very first night we reconnected, I hit him with my terms for a trial sleep contract. “Go get a check-up at the clinic. Prove you’re clean and healthy. How else am I supposed to know if you can even satisfy me?” Hearing my words, the desire that had been building in Liam’s eyes instantly fizzled out. “Fine. Let’s get my body thoroughly checked out! We’ll see exactly how well I can satisfy you!” He gritted his teeth, looking at me, his eyes burning with the desire to conquer me. 1. Running into Liam Vance again was pure chance. That night, I’d been betrayed by my own fiancé. SMACK! “Ethan Cole! How could you do this to me! It’s my birthday, and you sneak off to get a room with my goddamn best friend? Are you two trying to deliberately screw with my head, get some sick thrill?!” Seeing the half-naked pair of dogs before me, I couldn’t hold back my fury any longer. I slapped my fiancé across the face. My eyes were red with rage, and I put all my strength into it. The slap nearly knocked Ethan’s head off, and half his face immediately started to swell. “Ah!?!” My ‘best friend,’ Jessica Bell, shrieked. Clutching the bedsheet, she ran over, carefully cupping Ethan’s face, her own expression filled with exaggerated pain. Tears welled in her eyes, making her look pitiful yet defiant. “Ava, you’ve gone too far this time. Even if Ethan and I did something inappropriate, you can’t just hit people! Look how swollen it is, that must hurt so much…” Her fake innocent act made my stomach turn. “Since you care about him so much, why don’t I just give him to you.” “Ethan Cole, we’re done. Hope you two live happily ever after.” After landing the blow, I didn’t waste another word. I turned sharply and walked away. Jessica gaped, seemingly shocked that I’d let go so easily. But Ethan panicked. He grabbed my hand, ignoring his own throbbing face. “Ava, I’m sorry, I messed up! It was a moment of weakness! We’ve been together for years, how can you just throw me away like this?!” Me throw him away?! Seeing his wounded expression, I just wanted to laugh. Seriously, how blind was I before? It was like I went dumpster diving and pulled him out. But hey, the world’s full of all sorts. Plenty of people seem to enjoy trash. Jessica wrapped her arm around Ethan’s and tried to ‘explain.’ “Yeah, Ava, there’s nothing going on between Ethan and me. He was just here helping me with a massage…” The challenge in her eyes was impossible to miss. Their closeness made even Ethan visibly uncomfortable. “Really?!” A cold smile touched my lips. “Of course… Jessica and I, we…” SMACK! Before Ethan could finish, I slapped him again, this time on the other cheek. He clutched his face, utterly stunned. SMACK! SMACK! Before he could react, I landed two more quick slaps on his right cheek. “There. Now it’s symmetrical.” I nodded, satisfied, looking at Ethan’s swollen face as if admiring a piece of art in a gallery. Jessica was too shocked to even scream. Ethan, now sporting four handprints, glared at me, face dark, veins popping. He looked like he wanted to punch me right back. Too bad for him, he didn’t have the guts. “Ava Sterling, you’re going way too far! I’m still your fiancé, you know! Even if I made a mistake, you should show me some respect in public! I’m your man, after all!” Hearing that, I rolled my eyes so hard I could practically see my brain. Never heard of a kept man, caught cheating by the woman footing the bills, trying to pull the ‘macho man’ card. Did being my lapdog give him a superiority complex? 2. Turns out, I actually did laugh out loud. “Heh…” I advanced on him, step by step. Ethan, who had been puffing out his chest, shrank back as I approached. “What… what do you want…” He swallowed hard, his voice tight with nerves. But I just extended one long, delicate finger and pressed it against his chest, delivering my judgment in an almost cruel tone. “Nothing much. Just wanted to inform my former man that you’re cut off. I’m revoking all my favors.” My voice was cold, detached. The commanding presence, ingrained in me from birth, seemed to suffocate him. He froze, terrified, and started to tremble uncontrollably. Tch, coward! Ballsy enough to cheat, but not to own up to it. I despised him from the bottom of my heart. Calmly, I stood up, smoothed my clothes, and walked straight out. As I passed Jessica, who was now frozen in fear, I paused and said four words to her. “Same goes for you.” After dealing with the trashy couple, I felt restless and didn’t want to go home. Instead, I went to my usual bar to drown my sorrows. After two drinks, it felt pointless. I thought about calling a friend, only to remember that the person rolling around with my fiancé was my supposed best friend, Jessica. “Hah. Pointless. So damn pointless.” I shook my head with a bitter smile and downed my drink. “How pointless are we talking?!” A shadow fell over me, and a familiar scent filled the air. “Liam Vance?!” I stared at the man sitting beside me, whispering his name. I rubbed my temples, blinked hard. Damn, I’d had too much to drink today. I was hallucinating. “What?! Little Ava, so shocked to see me you’re speechless? Or just dizzy with delight?” Liam held his glass, a playful smirk on his face as he watched me. That cocky grin and irreverent tone were all too familiar. “It really is you, Liam Vance…” I murmured. Liam was my ex-boyfriend. My first love. And also, my most disastrous relationship ever… When I was younger, I was the untouchable Ava Sterling, heiress supreme. My little hobby? Saving ‘troubled’ guys. And back then, Liam Vance was exactly my type. Worn-out, faded t-shirt, slightly messy mid-length hair, looking clean and cool all at once. And most importantly, drop-dead gorgeous. And I happened to be totally shallow. I remember spotting him across the basketball court one day – a single glance, and I was hooked. Don’t get me wrong, the guy couldn’t play basketball to save his life. When I saw him, he was in the middle of a 1-on-3 fight. He was getting beaten up, covered in bruises, lip split, his handsome face bruised purple. Even like that, he was still stunning, adding this layer of tragic beauty. Who could resist that? A broken boy fighting his way out of a desperate situation! My heart skipped a beat. My eyes were glued to him, couldn’t look away. All I could think was: “Grandma’s got her eye on you. You have to be mine!” However… How I wished he could have been mute. Not that his voice wasn’t nice. Quite the opposite, it was clean, matched his looks perfectly. It was just… “Son of a bitch! Had enough yet? You little punk, you think you can mess with me?!” And just like that, the tragic beauty vanished. My dream guy… the broken boy… turned out to be a total punk… 3. But later, I heard Liam was poor. Dirt poor. Working three jobs a month sometimes. I secretly followed him once. Saw him in greasy overalls, lying under a car, fixing it, sweat dripping down his face. And damn it, I was hooked all over again. Fine, a punk was a punk. It’s all the same in bed. I would never admit I had zero resistance to his looks. So, after Liam finished work that day, I ran up and blocked his path. “Hey, Liam Vance! I’ve decided I want you. Name your price, I can give you anything!” I’d imagined his reaction many times. Would he curse me out and tell me to get lost? Or would he gladly accept? But I never, ever expected… He broke into a brilliant smile, threw an arm around me, and pulled me close. “Alright. You can be my sugar mama~” Huh?! I admit, my brain totally short-circuited in that moment. Later, lying with Liam on that big hotel bed, my head was still spinning. Partly because I hadn’t processed it, partly because he’d kissed me senseless. “Wait!” As Liam’s hand slid under my clothes, I stopped him, my face flushed. He just kept smiling at me, leaning down to kiss my neck. His warm breath tickled my skin. “Little Ava, don’t you want me?” Under his spell, my resistance melted away. My body went limp, like water. Taking my silence as consent, the man grew bolder. That night, I screamed myself hoarse. The next morning, looking at the bruises all over my body, I belatedly realized I’d been played. Liam Vance was a fox. Cunning, but damn, so beautiful… During the two years Liam and I dated, we spent most of our time in bed. After all, I was seriously addicted to his body. Just like right now. Huh?! My wandering mind snapped back to the present. I looked down at the man currently nibbling on my chest, his shirt already off, revealing a set of lean, eight-pack abs. My face was already flushed. I managed to regain my senses just in time and grabbed a handful of Liam’s hair, pulling his head up. “Hey, hold on a sec!” I stared at Liam’s handsome face, my alcohol-and-lust-addled brain slowly rebooting. “Liam Vance, how did we end up here again?!” My voice was already husky. The soft tone sounded almost like I was pouting… “Little Ava, don’t you like it?” His large hand cupped my cheek. It was warm, and the places he touched grew hot too. My gaze was hazy as I looked at him, and his actions became even more daring. Just as he was about to take things further, I unexpectedly kicked him right off the bed and onto the floor. Liam had absolutely no warning. He lay there on the floor, looking utterly bewildered and dishevelled. “Pfft-” “Hahahahahahaha!!!!” It had been so long since I’d seen Liam look flustered, I couldn’t help but burst out laughing. Seeing me laugh hysterically, Liam’s usually smooth, seductive face finally cracked a little. “So you kicked me onto the floor just to laugh at me?” He didn’t seem too angry, though. Adaptable as ever, he just sat up cross-legged on the floor, arms folded, tilting his head to look at me. 4. “Of course not.” I mirrored his posture, folding my arms and facing him. “Then why?” Seeing Liam’s genuinely confused expression was deeply satisfying. Hilarious. I loved it when he couldn’t figure me out. “You wanna get in my bed? Think you can handle it?” I lifted my chin, casting a doubtful glance his way, my tone laced with provocation. Sure enough, the one thing a man can’t stand hearing is that he “can’t.” Hearing my words, the previously grinning Liam instantly stopped grinning. His face darkened as he stood up from the floor and slowly approached me. “Ava Sterling. Whether I can handle it or not… shouldn’t you know better than anyone?” Oh ho, he used my full name. That was his sign of being pissed off. He’d asked me the same way when I broke up with him. “Ava Sterling, do you really want to break up with me?” I mentally replayed the scene of our breakup. By the time I snapped back to the present, Liam had already pinned me underneath him. Provoked into a fury, Liam didn’t even have the patience to unbutton my shirt. He ripped it open, buttons flying everywhere. My face remained impassive. “Chanel. Thirty-eight hundred. You owe me.” “I’ll pay! Ten of them, a hundred! After we’re done, I’ll buy out the whole goddamn store for you, take your pick!” Liam whispered huskily, skillfully teasing me. He knew my body better than anyone, knew exactly how to make me feel good. In just moments, my body softened under his touch. Just as he was about to move further, I stopped him again, pushing him away forcefully. I avoided his gaze, grabbing the duvet to cover myself, taking deep breaths to regain control. “Ava Sterling, you…” “Want to sleep with me? You don’t qualify right now!” “What are you trying to pull?” Liam gritted his teeth, staring at me. “Go get a check-up. Prove you’re clean and… capable. Even guys hooking up need proof they’re healthy these days.” I continued to provoke him. I honestly thought he’d storm out in anger. But… “Fine! Let’s get it checked! Get it thoroughly checked! So you can see exactly whether I’m capable or not!!!” This time, it sounded like his teeth might actually crack. Liam stormed into the bathroom to take a cold shower, and I burst out laughing again. “Hahahahaha.” I had to admit, after all these years, I still got a kick out of seeing Liam Vance flustered. But then, remembering the reason we broke up wiped the smile right off my face. I stared towards the bathroom, lost in thought… Liam Vance, why did you even come back? Gradually, despite myself, I drifted off to sleep. Liam always had this faint, lingering scent of sandalwood about him. Subtle, but it always made me feel incredibly safe. I’d asked him once what cologne he used. His response was typically cocky. “Smells good, right? That’s my natural musk, baby. One of a kind. If you like it, I’ll graciously let you hug me more.” And then he’d pulled me into a bear hug, ignoring any protest. So dumb, so bossy, but I absolutely loved it. It’s a shame… I hadn’t felt that scent, that embrace, in ten years. Lost in that thought, I felt myself being pulled into those familiar arms again. The familiar scent, the familiar embrace, now mixed with the clean smell of soap. I instinctively shifted, but he murmured in my ear. “Don’t move. I promised, and I won’t break my word. Just holding you.” “Shh, little Ava. Let me get one good night’s sleep.” And strangely enough, I didn’t move again. That night, we both slept incredibly well. 5. The next morning, the first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was Liam’s bare chest. Honestly, it was a great view. But… “Damn it, Ava Sterling!!!” With another swift kick, Liam was back on the floor. And I felt wonderfully refreshed. I called my assistant to bring me a change of clothes. Just as I was about to head to work, Liam slung an arm around my neck. I tilted my head back reflexively to look up at him. “What do you want?” “Not so fast, little Ava. We agreed on a check-up at the clinic. How convincing would it be if you weren’t there to watch closely?!” Liam forcefully bundled me into his ridiculously flashy Maserati and drove straight to the hospital. And so, there we were, sitting obediently outside the Sexual Health Clinic. Him in an Armani suit, me in Chanel haute couture. We stuck out like sore thumbs. Everyone around us was throwing curious glances our way, and we could hear their hushed whispers. “See that? Some people look so glamorous, but who knows how wild they are behind closed doors. Probably riddled with diseases!” “I know, right? Such handsome and beautiful young people having those kinds of problems…” “Maybe they’re… you know… in that line of work? They wouldn’t get clients if they weren’t good-looking!” ………… I glanced sideways at Liam and saw his handsome face had turned thunderously black. An idea sparked. “Honey, what are we going to do? We both caught something… what about the baby?” I summoned my best acting skills, looking at Liam with wide, pitiful eyes. Liam turned to me, catching on immediately. He grasped my hand tightly. “It’s okay, sweetheart. We both love our baby. Falling on hard times wasn’t our choice, but don’t worry, I’ll take care of you both.” He spoke with such sincerity, his face earnest, even placing a hand gently on my flat stomach for effect. Great. Now I was the one feeling awkward. Feeling guilty, I quickly scanned our surroundings. The mother and daughter who had been whispering about us earlier now looked like they wanted the ground to swallow them whole. Damn it, he managed to look good even doing this. 【Calling number twenty-seven, Liam Vance, to Consultation Room 1.】 It wasn’t long before Liam’s number was called. Under my watchful gaze, he walked into Room 1 with a grim expression. I stayed outside, legs crossed, playing on my phone. I couldn’t help but smirk, imagining Liam’s awkwardness inside that room. “Ava? Is that really you?!” I looked up to see Ethan Cole and Jessica Bell. My gaze drifted down to where their hands were intimately linked. Noticing my stare, Ethan awkwardly pulled his hand away from Jessica’s arm. “Don’t misunderstand, Jessica and I, we were just…” Ethan scrambled to explain. But Jessica hooked her arm back through his, chin high, staking her claim. “Yes, I’m pregnant. Ava, we’ve been friends for so many years. I hope you can accept us, wish us well!” “Pregnant?!” I eyed Jessica’s slightly rounded belly. It actually did look like she could be pregnant. Seeing Ethan’s guilty expression confirmed they’d been sneaking around together for a while. 6. “Ethan, when did this happen?!” I folded my arms, questioning him. “Ava, let me explain! It was an accident! You were away on business, we both had too much to drink, one thing led to another… I never meant to betray you! But Jessica’s pregnant, I had to…” Ethan rushed to explain, blaming everything on alcohol and Jessica, painting himself as completely innocent. “Hmph!” I snorted, feeling increasingly disgusted by him. I wanted to smack my past self from two years ago. How could I have been so blind to pick him?! How could I have ever thought this greedy, lying sack of crap was anything like the clean-cut boy Liam used to seem like? I must have been seriously messed up. “Ethan, did someone force you to drink? Did someone force you to sleep with Jessica?” “But I was drunk! I wasn’t thinking straight! I just made a mistake any man would make! What did I do wrong?!” Provoked, Ethan lost his temper and yelled at me. “Tch, pathetic loser. Can’t control your own dick, so you blame it on every man on the planet? You really think we’re all animals like you?!” Before I could even respond, Liam emerged from the clinic room, slinging an arm around my shoulder and looking at Ethan with pure provocation.

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My husband had a stroke while cheating on me with his little tramp. When they brought him to the hospital, I immediately refused treatment. Not this time. I wasn’t going to be that stupid again. 1. “Lily, honey, I’ve got drinks with Mr. Sterling tonight. Might be back late, don’t wait up for me.” “Lily? Lily?” The face in front of me slowly came into focus, solidifying into the man I once loved more than anything. Kevin. My first instinct was to lunge at him, to strangle the life out of the man who ruined my life, who destroyed everything. But then, something felt wrong. The huge wedding photo on the wall, the bright sunflowers on the counter, the beanbag chair I picked out in the corner, the breakfast I’d just made sitting on the table. This was my house! I was back! I’d been reborn! “What’s today’s date?” I managed, my voice raspy. “Lily, what’s wrong?” His hand touched my forehead, cool and gentle. He muttered, “You don’t have a fever.” “What day is it?” “Okay, okay, it’s February 14th, Valentine’s Day. I know I should be spending it with you, but Mr. Sterling wants to talk about this new project. I really can’t get out of it. Please understand?” “Once the commission from this project comes through, we can finally buy that new house. I’m doing this for us, you know!” Kevin blinked, his eyes full of tenderness. He leaned in and kissed my forehead. If I hadn’t lived through this once already, I might have actually believed his bullshit. He wasn’t going to see Mr. Sterling. He was going to spend Valentine’s Day with his mistress! And while they were rolling around in bed, the extreme excitement would cause a massive stroke. The mistress would panic, dump him at the hospital, and run. And clueless me? I’d be on my knees, begging the doctors to save him, borrowing from loan sharks to cover the bills. A path that ultimately led me to jump off a building. “Which Mr. Sterling are you meeting tonight?” “It’s… hey, Lily, you don’t suspect me, do you?” A small smile played at the corner of his eye as he teased me. I swallowed the bile rising in my throat and forced out a “No.” Kevin beamed. “Don’t worry, you’re the only one for me. Babe, I gotta go, gonna be late for work.” He gave me a tight hug. The clean scent of laundry detergent on him was a jarring reminder. I need revenge! I need revenge!! I need to take back everything that’s mine! 2 It’s 8:00 AM now. At 11:00 PM tonight, I’ll get the call from the ER. That leaves 15 hours until his stroke. I need to get back all the assets he secretly transferred, and fast. Kevin is a Vice President at his company, Apex Corp, making $200,000 a year. He always managed his own salary account, claiming he was saving up $450,000 for us to buy a bigger house. Six months ago, he said he was almost there, even showed me the balance: $410,000. I remember in my past life, the hospital bills piled up like falling leaves. After draining my own accounts, I tried to use Kevin’s salary card. The system flashed: INSUFFICIENT FUNDS! I just assumed I’d grabbed the wrong card. It never occurred to me that he’d already moved all the money. On one side, the nurses were hounding me for payment; on the other, a $30,000 shortfall. In desperation, I turned to high-interest online loans, thinking, once he wakes up, we can easily pay back $30k. Kevin woke up a week later. When he found out I’d taken out predatory loans to save him, his face instantly darkened. When I asked for his salary card, he hemmed and hawed, saying he’d invested the money and lost it all. Back then, I actually believed his investment story. Worried that getting upset might trigger another stroke, I even comforted him, saying it was okay, I’d figure out the money situation. But the interest compounded. And compounded. Soon after he was admitted, the $30,000 ballooned to $75,000. I had to ask him for help. Maybe get an advance on his salary from work, or borrow from friends. He exploded, yelling that I borrowed the money, it had nothing to do with him, and I had to pay it back myself. I was stunned. He sounded nothing like the gentle, considerate Kevin I knew. He was like a selfish stranger. The doctor told me many stroke patients experience personality changes, and it could be hard for families to adjust. I believed it. Thinking he was fragile after his recovery, I tried to handle the debt myself. But I’d moved across the country to marry Kevin right after college, cutting ties with my family in the process. Asking them for help was impossible. As a stay-at-home wife, I had no recent work experience. Countless interviews ended in rejection. My only option was to borrow more, escalating from bad online loans to even shadier lenders. Eventually, I caught the eye of the loan shark’s boss, who demanded I become his mistress. That’s when I started putting the pieces together. He and that secretary who brought him to the hospital, Chloe, seemed to have been involved for a while. 3 Last time, when I rushed to the hospital, I found a valet ticket stub while signing papers. It listed the location he was picked up from. Something like… The Grand Royale Hotel, room 303! Yes! The Grand Royale Hotel, room 303! My eyes narrowed. A plan started forming. I bought a pinhole camera, then checked into The Grand Royale Hotel, taking room 305 – right across the hall from 303. Noon is peak checkout time. After lunch, the cleaning staff would start their rounds. I watched the peephole like a hawk. Soon, a housekeeper started cleaning 303. As she was finishing up, I opened my door, asked her if she could please clean my room first. Then, while her back was turned, I slipped into 303. Stepping inside, I gasped. Red mood lighting, a heart-shaped waterbed, a jacuzzi tub, a sofa shaped like red lips. This was clearly a fantasy suite. Standing on a stool, I quickly hid the pinhole camera behind one of the spotlights. Then I calmly walked back to 305 just as the housekeeper finished cleaning my room. 9:00 PM. I heard familiar voices outside the door. “I love you, baby.” It was Kevin! “Mmm… you’re eager. Careful, the baby!” “It’s past the first trimester, right? I’ve been holding back for so long…” “Seriously though, when are you going to divorce her?” “There’s a project bonus coming next month, about $25k. Let me transfer that out too, then I’ll bring up the divorce.” “Mmm, okay… mmm.” The door slammed shut. Yes, Chloe was already pregnant at this point. In my past life, when I found out, I flew at Kevin, hitting him. He called me a crazy bitch and said since I already knew, he might as well tell me everything. “Chloe and I have been together for a while. She’s carrying my child. We got a paternity test done. It’s a boy.” “The Chen family finally has an heir!” (He never Americanized his family name pride). “We’ve been married three years and you haven’t gotten pregnant. You’re just a barren hen!” “You want the $450,000 from my account? I moved it to an offshore account long ago. You’ll never find it!” Sobbing uncontrollably, gasping for air, I asked him why. Why, when I was desperately trying to save him at the hospital, taking on so much debt for him, would he do this to me? He laughed, a cruel, cutting sound, and said something I’ll never forget. “It was Chloe who brought me to the hospital. It was the doctors who saved me. I was destined to live. What does it have to do with you? I’d be perfectly fine without you.” 4 Swallowing my disgust, I opened the live feed from the camera. Watching them cling to each other. Suddenly, Chloe got an idea. She wanted to play something… stimulating. Kevin’s eyes lit up. He immediately turned and bent over. Chloe picked up a small whip, like a matador facing an overly excited bull. Crack. Crack. Each strike was met with gasps and moans of pleasure. He was loving it. Apparently, that wasn’t enough. She put on high heels and stepped onto Kevin’s back, right onto his buttocks. That move made Kevin’s eyes roll back in ecstasy. Wait. His eyes rolled back! Chloe stepped down a few more times, but Kevin didn’t react. That’s when she realized something was wrong. She rushed over, shaking him, then screamed and scrambled back. She fumbled for her phone, probably calling 911. In the few minutes before the paramedics arrived, she frantically got dressed. Then she tried to dress Kevin. He’d already had a stroke; moving him was the worst thing to do, but she was forcing his limp body into clothes. Last time, the doctor said it was rare for someone so young to have such a severe stroke. Now I knew why. It wasn’t just the stroke from the BDSM; it was being manhandled afterward. No wonder it was so bad! Soon, I heard hurried footsteps and the rumble of a gurney in the hallway. After a flurry of activity, they wheeled him away. I opened my door. Other guests peeked out of their rooms, making snide remarks. “Whoa, did someone just kick the bucket in there?” “People are wild these days! I heard it clear as day, the guy was yelling ‘Your Majesty, spare me!’” “Hehe. Honey, I wanna try that.” “Oh, spare me. I don’t have a death wish.” While everyone was distracted, I slipped back into 303 and retrieved the camera. Step one, complete. The real show was about to begin.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “392337”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel