Author: Momo Chan

We were arguing in the car when the crash happened. My wife, Olivia, died instantly. By the time I woke up in the hospital, she’d already been cremated. Guilt ate me alive; I felt it was all my fault. I took care of her parents faithfully until they both passed away. But at their funeral, I saw someone who looked exactly like her. After some digging, I discovered the truth: the car crash was faked. She staged her death to ditch me and run off with her college dreamboat. When she found out I was investigating, she lured me to a mountain lookout and, when I wasn’t looking, shoved me off the edge. I blinked, and suddenly I was back in the car, back on that day, right before the argument. This time? If she wanted to play dead, I’d make sure she stayed that way. For good. 1 “Honey, I was thinking maybe we could go on a trip tomorrow? Like camping?” Olivia, my wife, suddenly draped herself over my arm, a complete flip from her usual icy demeanor. I stared at her, thrown by this unexpected warmth. In the four years we’d been married, Olivia had always kept me at arm’s length. If I suggested a vacation, she’d claim she was a homebody, only to turn around and hit the beach with her old college buddy, Mark. If I tried staying home to keep her company, she’d complain about needing “personal space” and tell me to leave her alone. Even intimacy was rare; she always seemed resistant. That’s why we still didn’t have kids. I’d always chalked it up to her personality, figuring enough care and affection would eventually thaw her out. So, when Olivia excitedly suggested this trip, I agreed without a second thought. I even called my best friend, Chris, practically bragging that I’d finally melted her frozen heart. But seeing me lost in thought, she instantly pulled her arm away, her face hardening. “What? You don’t want to go?” The flash of disgust in her eyes hit me like a ton of bricks. I finally got it. She was completely fed up with me. “I’d love to go,” I said carefully, “but your parents just got here. We can’t just leave them.” Her parents had arrived a few days earlier, supposedly to see how their daughter was doing. “Oh, don’t worry about us!” my mother-in-law chimed in, bustling in from the other room. “If Liv wants to go, you two should go. We’ll still be here when you get back.” Her eagerness felt… suspicious. Like she knew about the fake death plan all along. I nodded slowly. “Alright then. I’ll run to the grocery store, grab some things for you guys. Sorry to leave you hanging for a couple of days, but we’ll treat you to a nice dinner when we get back.” Relief washed over both their faces as I agreed. Downstairs, I didn’t head straight for the grocery store. First, I swung by an electronics shop and bought a tiny body camera, clipping it discreetly onto my hiking backpack. Then, I called Chris. He’s a big-shot investigative reporter. “Be near Eagle Crest Pass tomorrow morning,” I told him. “Trust me, there’s a huge story breaking.” He sounded skeptical but agreed to be there. Next stop: the pharmacy. I picked up some prescribed stomach medicine and some strong sleeping pills. When I got back from the grocery run, I found them all laughing and chatting cozily. The moment they saw me, the smiles vanished. I ignored it. “Mom, Dad, got all the groceries. I’ll prep some meals for you now, so you’ll have food ready for tomorrow and the day after.” My father-in-law, who’d made a bit of money in some small business years ago, always spoke with an air of superiority. “Now, Leo,” he started, “remember, no MSG when you cook. Plenty of vinegar, though. And make sure those greens are cooked until they’re mush…” His wife elbowed him lightly. “I don’t really care for your cooking, Leo,” she added, trying to sound polite. “Always seems a bit… off. But I suppose we’ll manage while you’re gone.” I swallowed my irritation and cooked anyway, making sure to label everything carefully. “Mom,” I said, pointing, “this is for tomorrow, this is for the day after. Don’t mix them up.” “Some of this stuff spoils quickly,” I added pointedly. “Could give you an upset stomach if you eat it on the wrong day.” At the mention of stomach trouble, my father-in-law grumbled some more, but thankfully, he seemed to register which food was for which day. 2 We hit the road early the next morning. I’d deliberately oversalted the breakfast I made. Olivia, driving, started complaining almost immediately. “Can’t you do anything right, Leo? Even making breakfast… way too much salt. No wonder Dad says your cooking sucks.” I calmly handed her an open bottle of water. “Sorry about that, honey. Here, drink some water.” She gulped down half the bottle and handed it back. “Hey, the mountain road up ahead gets tricky,” I offered. “Want me to take over driving?” She stiffened instantly, suddenly defensive. “No, I’m fine. I feel like driving today.” I just nodded. Any lingering shred of hope I had for her, for us, finally dissolved. We pulled into a rest stop halfway up. She told me to go dump the trash while she stayed in the car, making a call. I walked a good distance away, then switched on the listening device I’d planted earlier. “Okay, listen,” her voice came through, sharp and businesslike. “Be ready at Eagle Crest Pass. Splash plenty of fake blood around – make it look convincing. Got it?” Pause. “And put that fake rock prop right in the middle of the road. I’ll drive straight into it. Make sure you get good photos.” Another pause. “Don’t worry, you’ll get paid well once this is done.” Silence, then another call. “Mark? Hey! It’s happening soon. We’ll finally be together. Did you remind your uncle to get that death certificate ready? Just hand it directly to the guy who comes with me… Leo.” Pause. “Yeah, the cremation place is all set. Someone’s waiting to handle things on that end.” Another pause, her voice turning syrupy sweet. “Mark, baby, we’re almost there. God, if it wasn’t for that settlement money that idiot got, I would never have wasted my time on him.” In the previous timeline, right after her “death,” Mark had shown up with a bogus IOU for ten million dollars he claimed she owed him. Drowning in guilt and egged on by her parents, I’d sold my house and handed over every penny I had. God, I was such a fool back then. I waited until she hung up, then walked back to the car. She held out an already opened carton of milk. “Here,” she said, trying to sound considerate. “Drink this. You barely touched your breakfast; don’t want you getting hungry on the road.” I took the milk and, under her watchful, expectant gaze, drank the whole thing. Joke’s on her. I was the one who packed the car. I’d swapped her doctored milk with a perfectly normal one hours ago. 3 I sent a quick text to Chris: Eagle Crest Pass. Get ready. If you see anyone suspicious setting something up, film them discreetly, then call the cops. With everything in motion, a strange calm settled over me. Still, looking at the woman I’d loved, or thought I loved, for so many years, knowing how this would end… a flicker of regret, maybe pity, sparked inside me. I just watched her quietly for a moment. She noticed my gaze and recoiled. “God, stop looking at me like that,” she snapped, her voice dripping with disdain. “It’s disgusting. Like you’ve never seen a woman before.” “Honestly, Leo, you’re just… pathetic. No ambition. I genuinely can’t stand you.” After I got that settlement money, all I wanted was to relax, enjoy life, spend time with family. But in her eyes, that translated to pathetic. My gaze turned cold. “Then why did you marry me, Olivia? If you didn’t love me, why stay with me?” “Because you wouldn’t leave me alone!” she spat back. “Clinging like some pathetic lost puppy! I only stuck around because I felt sorry for you!” Felt sorry for me. Right. Sure, I pursued her. Hard. Dropped a fortune doing it – expensive bags, designer clothes, fancy dinners at places I couldn’t really afford. She never said no, never even hinted she wasn’t interested. Now I was the pathetic one? I let out a long sigh, picking up the water bottle I’d given her earlier. It was nearly empty. “Okay, okay, my bad,” I said, handing it to her. “Here, finish this. Calm down.” She shot me a sideways glare but took the bottle and drained the rest. I watched her closely. Her eyelids started to droop. She looked like she was fighting sleep. Time was running out. “Honey,” I said gently, “maybe I should drive now? You look tired. Eagle Crest Pass is just up ahead.” We were heading to a campsite high in the mountains. All the turns and passes looked similar up here; it was easy to get confused if you weren’t paying close attention. The mention of “Eagle Crest Pass” jolted her awake. “I’m perfectly fine driving!” she snapped, suddenly alert. “Why are you so insistent on taking over? Don’t you trust my driving?” She was picking a fight, trying to replicate the scenario from the last time, trying to get me out of the car so she could stage the accident. “That’s not it,” I said, feigning helplessness. “I’m just worried you’re tired.” “Oh, I think you don’t trust me! God, you’re such a worrier, always nagging. I’m not made of glass, Leo!” “And remember that hospital project investment I told you about? Mark’s project? You hesitated! So useless!” Mark’s hospital venture. I knew it was shady, probably skirting the law, but Olivia had pushed, so I’d sunk over a million into it. Lost every cent. Afterward, Olivia blamed me, claiming I didn’t invest enough. I glanced at the clock. Past noon. Her parents would have likely eaten their lunch by now. The lunch I’d prepared. “Just get out! I don’t want to look at you!” she yelled. We were on a winding mountain road, miles from anywhere. No chance of catching a cab. But she didn’t care. I looked at her one last time. Her eyes were slits, struggling to stay open. “I… alright,” I stammered, playing my part. “Just… be careful driving, okay? Eagle Crest Pass is right around the bend.” “Get out!” she screamed. The car screeched to a halt. I opened the door and stepped out. The mountain road was deserted. Just me, the wind, and the tiny red light blinking almost imperceptibly on my backpack strap. She didn’t know. Eagle Crest Pass wasn’t this turnoff. It was the next one. 4 I tossed the empty water bottle she’d drunk from into a roadside trash bin, then quickly called Chris. The second I hung up, a deafening BOOM echoed from up ahead. Thick black smoke billowed into the clear mountain air. I sprinted forward. The car… or what was left of it… was completely engulfed in flames, already burning down to a skeletal frame. I dropped to my knees on the asphalt, forcing out gut-wrenching sobs. Soon, sirens wailed in the distance. Someone must have called 911. An ambulance arrived, police cars right behind them, quickly sealing off the mountain road. They loaded Olivia’s… remains… and me into the same ambulance. At the hospital, the official verdict came quickly: severe burns, deceased upon arrival. An autopsy would be required. Tears streaming (or so it seemed), I nodded my consent. Then, I immediately sought out her dear friend, Mark. “Mark,” I choked out, playing the distraught husband. “I don’t know anyone here… the doctors… they said they need to do an autopsy on Olivia… I…” Mark looked genuinely startled to see me conscious and walking around. According to their plan, I should have been passed out cold somewhere. He fumbled for his phone, dialed a number. It rang and rang, unanswered. He looked flustered. “Call her parents,” he instructed me curtly. I made a show of dialing their number several times. No answer. Mark looked increasingly uneasy, but he stuck to the script. He produced a folded document. “Here,” he said, handing it to me. “Death certificate. Signed.” This meant no autopsy. He couldn’t risk them finding the sleeping pills still in her system. If they found that, I’d be implicated too. 5 After arranging things with the crematorium staff – specifically, the contact he mentioned – Mark turned back to me. “Okay, the funeral home is expecting you. Just take her straight there.” He seemed hesitant, reaching as if to pull back the white sheet covering Olivia. I quickly stepped in. “Just… straight to cremation?” I asked, feigning confusion and grief. “Don’t they need to examine the body or anything? Maybe I should check back with that coroner…” Mark’s hand froze. He clearly didn’t want anyone looking too closely. “Just go!” he snapped, impatient. “Do what I told you. Take her to Henderson at the crematorium. Give him this.” He thrust the death certificate into my hand. Heart pounding, but keeping my hand trembling, I took the certificate and headed for the crematorium. Just as instructed, I found the guy named Henderson and handed him the paperwork. He scanned the death certificate, then glanced grimly at the body bag on the gurney. His brow furrowed deeply. He reached for the phone on his desk.

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My stepsister, Ashley, hit the jackpot landing Ethan Miller, the sole heir to the Miller Industries fortune. Invitations to their engagement party went out to every relative imaginable—except me. But on the big day, the party hit a snag. Things couldn’t get started because, apparently, the legendary Mrs. Miller, Ethan’s stepmother and the boss’s wife, hadn’t shown up yet. Suddenly, my phone was blowing up. Ashley was practically begging, pleading for me to grace them with my presence. Me? The person she deliberately left off the list? 1 It was the weekend, so I drove back to my dad’s place. Mom and Dad split when I was in high school. Two years later, Dad remarried. My stepmom, Linda, came with a daughter, Ashley, five years younger than me. Tonight, during dinner, Ashley dropped the bomb: she was getting engaged. And not just to anyone—to Ethan Miller, the Miller Industries heir. The engagement party was just a week away, at the most expensive six-star hotel downtown. Dad had actually mentioned it briefly when I called him a while back. He said Ashley—oh right, she changed her last name to match Dad’s not long after he married Linda—was dating this guy, a few years older than her. Rich family, powerful connections. Apparently, he treated Ashley like gold, chauffeured her everywhere, catered to her every whim. Just sickeningly sweet, according to Dad. “Seriously? I hear that hotel is insanely expensive. An engagement party there must cost tens of thousands!” Linda exclaimed. “Mom, Ethan’s the only heir to Miller Industries. A little money like that means nothing to him,” Ashley said, preening. “He just doesn’t want me to feel slighted. He wants it to be a huge, grand event.” “Oh, well, that’s very thoughtful of him. So, what do we need to do to help?” Linda asked. “Nothing, Mom. Ethan’s handling everything. I’ve already sent out invitations to all our relatives. You guys just need to show up.” “Well, isn’t that nice!” “Oh, and Mom,” Ashley added, “there will be a lot of guests. Ethan said to make sure everyone brings their invitation – it’s one per person – to keep out any party crashers. Remind Uncle Joe and everyone, okay?” Ashley and Linda were buzzing, chattering excitedly back and forth. Dad, quiet as usual, just sat there watching them, looking pleased. I thought back to what Ashley just said. All relatives got an invitation? Because I definitely didn’t get one. “Ashley,” I piped up, “what about mine? I didn’t get an invitation. Am I not family?” 2 Okay, truth is, Ashley and I never really got along behind the scenes, but we always put on a fake-nice act for Dad. She clearly wasn’t expecting me to call her out right then and there. Her eyes instantly welled up, getting red and teary. Total guilt trip mode activated. “Oh, Sarah, I’m so sorry,” she stammered, her voice thick with fake remorse. “The guest list was just so long… I must have accidentally missed you. And now everything’s finalized, we can’t add anyone…” She bit her lip, looking all pitiful. “How about… how about Ethan and I take you out for a special dinner tomorrow? As an apology? Please don’t be mad. Or… or I could call Ethan right now and see if he can rearrange things?” She made a show of pulling out her phone, pretending she was about to call him. Linda jumped in immediately, grabbing Ashley’s arm. “No, no! We haven’t helped with anything for this engagement party. We can’t bother Ethan with little things like this now! He’ll get annoyed, and what if that makes things difficult for Ashley after they’re married?” Turning to me, Linda added, “It’s just the engagement party, not the wedding. A separate dinner sounds lovely.” Dad thought for a moment, then nodded. “Linda’s right, Sarah. It’s just the engagement. How about this? You can have my invitation. Linda and I can share one.” Ashley looked panicked at Dad’s suggestion. She quickly rubbed her eyes, putting on her best wounded-dove expression. It was clear she really didn’t want me there. I gave Ashley a long look, then turned to Dad. “It’s okay, Dad. You guys go ahead.” I forced a smile. “Like you said, it’s just the engagement. I can always go to the wedding.” “Exactly! See? Sarah understands,” Linda chimed in quickly, piling food onto my plate. Across the table, Ashley shot me a smug, triumphant glance. 3 After dinner, Ashley insisted on walking me downstairs. The second we were out of the apartment and a few steps away, she yanked her hand from my arm like I was contaminated and brushed off her sleeve. “Sarah,” she snapped, her voice dripping with disdain, “there was no mistake with the list. I deliberately didn’t invite you.” “Yeah, I figured,” I said calmly. Her little schemes were always painfully obvious, written all over her face. Only Dad, bless his trusting heart, couldn’t see through her and Linda’s act. My lack of reaction seemed to infuriate her. “Stop pretending, Sarah! God, I’ve always hated how you act so high and mighty, like you’re better than everyone. It’s disgusting.” She sneered. “So you got good grades and make a decent salary. Big deal. Who knows how you really make your money anyway.” I didn’t even bother looking at her. Arguing with her was a complete waste of emotional energy. I turned to leave, but she darted in front of me, blocking my path. “What, did I hit a nerve? Feeling guilty?” “I knew it,” she crowed. “I saw you got a new car recently. There’s no way you could afford something that nice on your salary so quickly. Who’s your sugar daddy?” I rolled my eyes. Unbelievable. The car was a gift—a wedding present from my husband. He’d wanted to get me a Rolls Royce, but I vetoed it—way too flashy. I picked out a modest Honda instead; it was just for commuting, the brand didn’t matter. But seriously? She thought I couldn’t afford a fifteen-thousand-dollar car on my own? Who did she think she was talking to? Dealing with idiots seriously tanks my mood. “Think whatever you want, Ashley,” I sighed. As I started to walk away again, something occurred to me. I stopped and turned back. “Hey, just double-checking… you’re absolutely sure you don’t need me at the engagement party?” She let out a short, sharp laugh. “Positive. Absolutely, one hundred percent positive!” “Okay then,” I shrugged. 4 After graduating college and landing a job, I moved out of Dad’s place. A few years later, I’d saved enough to buy my own small condo. I rarely stayed over at Dad’s—partly because I couldn’t stand being around Linda and Ashley, and partly because I didn’t want to make things awkward for Dad. Dad had told me once that Ashley had a rough childhood. Her biological father was a gambling addict. When he lost, he’d drink and take it out on Linda, hitting and yelling. He’d always be incredibly apologetic the next day, and Linda, being soft-hearted, could never bring herself to leave him. That might have gone on forever, but one night, he came home drunk after losing big. Ashley was just coming out of the bathroom, and he slapped her, hard, right out of the blue. She started screaming. Linda heard the commotion, saw Ashley crying, and was overwhelmed with guilt and pain. That was the final straw. She finally filed for divorce. After Linda married Dad, he learned about Ashley’s past and treated her really well, just like he treated me, his own daughter. Ashley seemed to adore Dad’s calm, gentle nature, always calling him ‘Dad’ affectionately. If it hadn’t been for that one incident, maybe we could have actually been a happy, blended family. But hey, at least Ashley and Linda were decent to Dad, even if Ashley and I didn’t get along. So, I mostly kept my mouth shut. 5 As Ashley’s engagement party approached, I found myself back at Dad’s more often. Ashley, clearly thinking she’d finally one-upped me by snagging a rich fiancé, needed an audience for her bragging. She’d get Dad to call me, saying she wanted to spend more time with her ‘big sister’ before getting married. Dad, naturally, fell for it and urged me to come over. I didn’t want to disappoint him, so I usually agreed. After dinner tonight, Ashley launched into another monologue about her oh-so-grand engagement party. “The hotel usually needs to be booked months in advance, but luckily, the Millers just made one call and sorted it out.” “My dress is custom-made by this exclusive designer Ethan found. Apparently, she only creates gowns for high society women.” “I told Ethan we didn’t need an engagement ring, but he insisted! It’s eight carats. He wanted to get something bigger, but eight is my lucky number, so we went with that for good luck.” “Oh, and here are some gifts we brought back from our trip abroad. For everyone!” Ignoring my obvious lack of interest, Ashley shoved a gift box into my hands, winking dramatically. “Go on, Sarah, open it! I picked this out especially for you.” I opened it. A set of skincare products. Judging by the minimalist, chic packaging, it looked like it came from one of those ultra-exclusive, bespoke skincare boutiques in LA or New York—the kind that analyzes your skin and creates custom formulas. I’d actually visited one with my husband during our honeymoon. Seeing me stare at the box, Ashley assumed I didn’t recognize the brand and adopted a slightly mocking tone. “Don’t worry, Sarah, it’s not some cheap drugstore stuff. It’s from a private custom skincare place overseas. I had it made just for you. It’s very expensive. There’s usually a long waiting list.” Linda winced visibly at the mention of ‘expensive.’ I quietly put the box aside and checked my watch, planning my escape in about ten minutes. “So, Sarah,” Ashley started, a sly glint in her eye, “you’re not getting any younger. When are you planning on getting married?” 6 Ugh, bad timing. Should have left right after getting the gift. Ten more minutes of this? Torture. Ashley waited expectantly for my answer, clearly ready to pounce. “I am married,” I stated simply. “You’re married?!” Dad practically jumped out of his chair, his eyes wide. “When did you get married? Why didn’t I know?” After getting settled in my career, I had legally separated my household registration from Dad’s (basically, handled my own affairs independently). I’d planned on telling Dad about the wedding soon, just hadn’t expected this ambush. I awkwardly explained things to Dad for a while. He knows I’m independent and wouldn’t rush into marriage lightly, so he eventually, reluctantly, accepted it. However, he insisted I bring my husband over to meet him within the week. Thinking they’d meet at Ashley’s engagement party anyway, I readily agreed. Dad seemed satisfied. Ashley, however, was not. I could practically see her gears turning. Her original plan was probably to flaunt Ethan’s connections and condescendingly offer to set me up with someone. My being married ruined her chance to show off her fiancé’s ‘generosity.’ Plan A foiled, she moved to Plan B. She actually asked me to be the one to ‘send her off’ from the house on the morning of the engagement party, claiming it was a tradition in ‘their family’ for the older sister to do it. Seriously? It was an engagement, not a wedding. What tradition? I refused. Predictably, Ashley started crying, wailing about how I didn’t consider her and Linda ‘real family.’ She was quite the actress, tears streaming down her face. It was her go-to tactic—weaponized vulnerability. And Dad, bless his soft heart, fell for it hook, line, and sinker. He agreed on my behalf. Unbelievable. Not invited to the party, but now I was expected to be part of the unpaid help! Ugh… whatever… 7 They called it an engagement, but the scale of it felt more like a full-blown wedding. I had to take a personal day off work for this – poof went my perfect attendance bonus. Thanks, Ashley. In the morning, I helped her try on her gown and sat through hours of makeup application. In the afternoon, I had to help her rehearse the engagement party schedule. She kept saying how many important people would be there and how everything had to be perfect. She wanted me to read the entire timeline to her, over and over. If I suggested she read it herself, the waterworks would start instantly, forcing the makeup artist to do frantic touch-ups. Me: … Are you kidding me… Fine. I read the damn schedule. After an exhausting day of catering to her every whim, it was finally time to ‘send her off.’ A fleet of luxury cars—Porsches, Rolls Royces, Maseratis—lined the street outside Dad’s apartment building. Nosey neighbors crowded around the main car, practically falling over themselves to compliment Ashley, gushing about how capable she was. Linda beamed, unable to contain her grin. To show off, Ashley handed out cash—like $50 or $100 bills—to every neighbor who came out. Even though it wasn’t huge amounts per person, with so many people, it added up quickly. And so, like a conquering queen, Ashley basked in the neighbors’ blessings and climbed into the fancy car, ready for her grand entrance. As the motorcade pulled away, the noisy apartment suddenly fell silent. It was just me. Finally. Peace and quiet. Bliss. I went back to my old room to relax. My phone buzzed with a text message. “Son’s engagement today. Why aren’t you here yet?” I typed back: “Nobody invited me.”

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After my Aunt Lily and Uncle Mark died, my dad took my cousin Jessica in. But she treated him like her personal ATM, bleeding him dry and then accusing him of spying on her, of being a creep… 1. “Sarah, I can’t believe your dad… going after his own niece? Guess the old man’s still got some fire in him, huh? Hahaha!” I was head-down, working on a project proposal at the office. My arch-nemesis, Chloe Davis, suddenly materialized above me, her voice dripping with sarcasm. My blood boiled instantly. I figured she was just trying to sabotage me, snatch the project with some low-blow personal attack. But then she shoved her phone right in my face. Playing on the screen was a viral video – TikTok, probably – with hundreds of thousands of likes and comments: “OMG you guys, you won’t BELIEVE this. My own uncle… sexually harassed me. Spied on me. That old creep is absolutely shameless, lower than dirt! Here’s what happened: two years ago, my parents died in a car crash. My uncle, Michael Johnson – yeah, the disgusting old sicko – said I should come live with him. At first, I was actually happy. It meant I still had family, you know? But just two days ago, I caught him. The creep was spying on me while I was showering, changing clothes. And when I confronted him? He didn’t apologize. He threatened me! Told me if I said a word, he’d beat me senseless and leak the videos he took! That’s when I saw his true colors. I realized he didn’t take me in out of kindness. He wanted to take advantage of me! It all made sense then – why my underwear sometimes seemed like it had been moved around. That pervert is so disgusting! I don’t even know how many times he violated my privacy. So, I moved out immediately. But he’s my only family left, so I felt like I had to just suck it up, forgive him, and carry this burden alone. BUT, listen up everyone, if you’re ever spied on or taken advantage of, PLEASE don’t be like me and suffer in silence. Stand up for yourselves! Fight back against these predators! Call them out online…” I… I was completely numb. This was pure fabrication. Slander. The woman in the video was my cousin, Jessica Miller. Yes, she’d moved in with us two years ago after her parents died, and yes, she’d moved out a couple of days ago. But it wasn’t because my dad harassed her or spied on her. It was because she demanded twenty thousand dollars from him, and he didn’t give it to her! For the two years Jessica lived with us, my dad treated her like his own daughter. He paid for everything – food, housing, everything. She didn’t spend a dime. Sometimes, she’d even cry poverty to get money from him for clothes or makeup. I remember once, Dad worked a construction job for a year, only for the foreman and manager to skip town with everyone’s wages. He didn’t get paid a cent. We were struggling just to eat. When I found out, I lied and said I got a bonus at work. In reality, I gave him two months of my own salary so he could take a break. But when I came back from a business trip? I found him eating instant ramen noodles every day, not even buying cheap veggies. After I pressed him, he admitted Jessica had guilted the money out of him for some designer dress and outfit because “everyone at her new internship wears custom stuff.” I was so furious I couldn’t eat for three days! I don’t even own custom-made clothes! My dad would literally starve himself to make sure she had money, terrified she’d feel like a burden or an outsider. But that ungrateful viper? Instead of being thankful, she pushed her luck. She demanded another twenty thousand dollars from him for a “nest egg,” supposedly for when she eventually got married. And she made it clear any gift money from a future wedding was hers to keep too. Seriously? Was she treating my dad like her personal ATM?! I didn’t even have a nest egg saved up! What gave her the right? Besides, my dad’s just a regular construction worker. He’s been both mom and dad to me for years, working his fingers to the bone. Where was he supposed to pull twenty grand from?! Jessica threw a massive tantrum, screamed at him, completely turned on him right then and there. Called him heartless, greedy, said he cared more about money than family. I almost laughed out loud from sheer rage. Who was the one obsessed with money? Who was the shameless, heartless one?! And now, she had the audacity to post this kind of video? Twisting everything, spreading lies and slander? She’d stoop to this level – this vile, disgusting level – just for money? Does she even have a shred of humanity left? I slammed my fist on the desk! Just as I was about to unleash a string of curses, my boss, Mr. Peterson, called out, “Sarah, my office, please.” His face was grim. He’d clearly seen the video. As soon as I walked in, I started explaining, “Mr. Peterson, please don’t misunderstand. That video is completely false, pure slander. My dad would never spy on anyone. He’s just an honest, hardworking guy…” But Mr. Peterson held up a hand, cutting me off. “Sarah, even if I believe you, what difference does it make? That video already has millions of views. The public fallout is huge, and it’s going to hit you soon. I can’t let this negatively impact the company.” “So, Mr. Peterson, what… what are you saying?” A horrible feeling washed over me. He sighed. “Go home now, Sarah. Sort this out with your father. Let Chloe take over the project for now. Once this is completely resolved, you can come back.” In other words, if I couldn’t make this go away completely, I wouldn’t have a job to come back to. One malicious, slanderous video from Jessica, and my project, my job, were on the line? Panic surged. “Mr. Peterson, I promise you, my dad would absolutely never—” “Enough! Go home and check on your father! He needs you right now.” Mr. Peterson waved me away. I could only bite my lip and walk out. Jessica, you shameless, ungrateful snake. I will make you pay for this! “Wow, you just never know, do you? He seemed like such a quiet old guy, but behind closed doors, he’s a creep preying on his own niece. Tsk, tsk, really goes to show you can’t judge a book by its cover!” The second I stepped out of the office, Chloe’s mocking voice piped up again. Others quickly chimed in: “Exactly! Like father, like daughter, right? Maybe some people are just as twisted and dirty on the inside as their dad. We should probably keep our distance!” “Ugh, puts on a professional front, but comes from trash like that. People like them deserve to be canceled!” “………” Listening to their disgusting words, my fists clenched tight. Suddenly, Mr. Peterson’s sharp voice cut through from his office: “That’s enough! Do you all want your pay docked?” “Sarah, just go home!” I forced myself to swallow the rage. “You just wait,” I muttered under my breath. “The truth will come out.” 2. When I got home, Dad was on the phone. It sounded like one of our relatives, Aunt Carol, and she was laying into him. I could hear her sharp tones from across the room. “…Michael, how could you do such a thing? Jessica is your niece, your own blood! Have you no shame? At your age! I’m embarrassed for you! How are we supposed to face anyone now…” My dad was desperately trying to explain, but he’s never been good with words. He was getting so flustered tears were welling up in his eyes. “Carol, I swear I didn’t! I don’t know why Jessica would post something like that! I didn’t spy on her, really! She’s my niece, how could I possibly…? It’s impossible…” He was trembling, repeating the same phrases over and over. Seeing him like that broke my heart and fueled my anger. I walked over and snatched the phone from his hand. “Aunt Carol! If Dad really spied on Jessica, why didn’t she call the police? Why post a video online? She’s framing him! It’s slander!” My aunt paused for a second. “Well… well, that’s because Jessica’s a sensitive girl, she cares about family, and she’s probably scared you two will retaliate! How could you treat such a sweet girl so horribly…” “Sensitive? Cares about family? Ha! If you think she’s so great, why don’t you take her in? Stop wasting my time!” I scoffed. “You brat… you…! That video has hundreds of thousands of people talking! You think they’re all wrong? Jessica was right, you two are just heartless and ungrateful! You deserve…” “Believe whatever you want online! Just stop calling my dad!” SLAM! I hung up forcefully. Dad immediately started fussing, scolding me for talking to Aunt Carol like that, wanting to call her back. I tossed the phone onto the couch and grabbed his arm. “Dad! Stop! She won’t believe you!” “Then… then what do we do? I can’t just let people think this! What’s gotten into Jessica…?” Dad paced like a caged animal, wringing his hands. “Oh, right! I’ll call Jessica! If I just talk to her, clear things up, it’ll be fine! I’ll get her to take the video down…” He reached for the phone again. I blocked him once more. “Dad, don’t you get it yet? Jessica is an ungrateful viper! She won’t listen to you right now!” Dad shook his head frantically. “No, no, Jessica’s just confused, acting out. If I explain it to her, she’ll understand. She doesn’t really mean to hurt me. I’ll call her, we’ll sort it out…” I felt helpless. “What do you mean, confused? She’s deliberately slandering you! Can you please just stop trying to contact her? What we need to do now is call the police!” “The police? No, no! That would ruin Jessica! Let me just call her, we can talk it through. Let go of me…” Dad pulled his arm free with surprising strength. I was speechless with frustration. Fine. Call her. Let’s see what wonderful things she has to say to you. Dad dialed her number, his voice hesitant and careful. “Hello? Jessica? Honey, I saw that video you posted online… what’s going on? How could you say your uncle spied—” “Why do you care what video I post?! I’ll say whatever I want! You got a problem with that?!” Jessica’s furious voice erupted from the phone before he could finish. “No, Jessica, listen to me. You need to take that video down right now. Your Aunt Carol just called, she said—” “What do I care what she said?! Let me tell you something – no money, no deleting the video! Got it?!” Click. Beeeep beeep beeep… Dad just stood there, stunned, phone still pressed to his ear. “Well? See her true colors now?” I took the phone from his hand and guided him to the sofa. He sat there for a long time, silent. Then tears started streaming down his face. “How could she? How could Jessica do this? I never treated her badly… how could she lie about me like this…?” I knew this wasn’t the time for wallowing. We needed to clear his name, fast. I immediately dialed 911. Dad actually tried to stop me, still holding onto some sliver of hope for Jessica. I snapped, my voice sharp with frustration. “Do you want me to lose my job because of her? Think about what Aunt Carol just said! Think about what your coworkers will say! How are we supposed to live in this neighborhood anymore?” I pulled away from him and made the call. The police arrived quickly. After hearing the story, one officer asked, “Did you record that last phone call you made?” I shook my head. “Okay,” the officer said. “We’ll need to contact the other party involved, Ms. Miller, to get her statement and investigate further. If we can confirm she knowingly spread false information – defamation – we’ll proceed according to the law.” “How long will that take?” I asked anxiously. “It depends on her cooperation,” the officer replied. “This is just a preliminary investigation, so we can’t compel her testimony at this stage.” “So, if she just refuses to cooperate, we’re stuck? Just left hanging while our reputations are destroyed? What about the damage to our lives, the lost income?” I was getting desperate. “We understand your frustration,” the officer said reassuringly. “Rest assured, we will investigate this thoroughly and as quickly as possible, and take appropriate action based on the facts.” Great. Said a lot without saying anything useful! By the time the police finished their investigation, would I even have a job to go back to? After they left, the anger simmered inside me. That viper Jessica. Not only did she cost me my project, but she’d turned our family and friends against my dad. I couldn’t just let her get away with it. Just charging her with defamation wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough. I needed to add something more potent to the mix. But before I could make my move, someone else targeted our home first.

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My fiancé ditched me at our engagement party because he’d fallen for the sweet, innocent new girl at his company. He took her on a reckless yacht trip trying to be romantic, which ended with him critically injured and unconscious. The new girl vanished. For the sake of our families’ intertwined businesses and reputations, I nursed him back to health. But the first thing he did when he woke up? He destroyed my family, made us bankrupt, all to supposedly avenge his lost love. I died on what would have been my third wedding anniversary with Ethan Hayes. Swallowing the nausea churning in my gut, I tried to keep my face neutral as I handed him the divorce papers. The Vance and Hayes families went way back, practically dynasties in this town. My parents had treated Ethan like their own son. After we got married, my family’s company, Vance Corp, trusted him completely, gave him access to everything. He used that trust to collude with our rivals, shorted our stock, and drove us into the ground. Our company collapsed. Grandpa had a massive heart attack. Dad was pushed to desperation and jumped from his office building. Mom withered away, lost in grief. I didn’t want to fight him anymore. All I wanted was for him to sign the papers and let me go. He took the agreement but didn’t sign. “Let’s have one last meal together,” he suggested. Seeing the refusal forming on my lips, he added, “I’ll sign after we eat.” So I sat down. The food tasted like ash in my mouth. I managed a few bites, put down my fork, and waited quietly. He took his time, raising his wine glass to me. “A toast, to thank you for taking care of me all these years.” I just wanted this to be over so I could go home and check on Mom. I picked up my glass and downed it in one gulp. The bitter aftertaste lingered. “Can you sign now?” I asked, looking up at him. That’s when I saw the smile playing on his lips. “Looks like signing won’t be necessary after all. You wanted freedom, didn’t you? Well, you’ve got it. Eternal freedom.” His voice, usually smooth and cultured like a cello, now held a demonic whisper. “What are you talking about?” I scrambled to my feet, but a wave of dizziness hit me. Was I drunk already? But seeing that smirk, I knew. This wasn’t just the wine. He’d drugged me. “Why?” I couldn’t understand. Our families had been close for decades. My parents adored him. I knew I couldn’t win against him; I just wanted to take Mom and disappear somewhere quiet, live out our lives in peace. “Why would you do this to me? To my family!” I screamed at him, my voice raw. I couldn’t think of a single thing I’d done to deserve this. He, on the other hand, had repaid every kindness with betrayal. He watched my staggering form, his expression dark and stormy. “This is what you owe me. What you owe Lily!” Lily? He must have seen the confusion on my face because he sneered. “What, forgotten already? If your family hadn’t insisted on that damned engagement, I wouldn’t have had to take Lily away. She wouldn’t have been lost at sea, her body never even found.” As he spoke, his eyes actually reddened. He glared at me, like I was some kind of monster responsible for it all. It was laughable. Utterly insane. He was blaming the Vances for that accident? I had to laugh, a broken, hollow sound. Six years. Three years tending to him while he lay in bed, recovering. Three years married after he got better. And he’d never forgotten her. It was pathetic. We’d known each other practically our whole lives, but it meant nothing compared to the few months he’d known her. Was he devoted? Or just cruel? “Vance Corporation has paid its price. Now, it’s your turn, Eleanor Vance.” “So, Mr. Hayes,” I spat, anger bubbling up through the haze, “what ending have you planned for me?” “Don’t worry,” he said, a chilling calm in his voice. “Considering you took care of me for a while, I won’t make it painful. Just go to sleep, and you’ll be free. Consider your shares in the company my compensation.” “I’ll arrange a beautiful funeral. ‘Mrs. Hayes, overcome with grief, succumbs to depression.’ ‘Mr. Hayes, heartbroken, mourns his beloved wife.’ How does that headline sound?” Looking at his familiar face, I felt nothing but disgust. My vision blurred. The world tilted. Finally, everything went black. 02 “Ellie, what’s wrong? You look so pale.” The first thing I heard when I came to was Mom’s worried voice. Across the room, Dad and Grandpa were talking to some guests, but their eyes kept flicking towards me. “Mom!” I threw my arms around her, clinging tight. She gently patted my back, comforting me just like she always did when I was upset. Nestled in her warm embrace, listening to her soft murmurs, I wished time could just stop right there. I was back. Somehow, unbelievably, I was back. “What’s this? Ethan’s a no-show, so now you’re throwing your usual princess tantrum?” A sharp, mocking voice cut through the moment. “Honestly, Eleanor. You come from such a good family, why do you have to chase after Ethan Hayes like a lovesick puppy?” I turned around. Standing there was Chloe Sterling, a petite girl with a sour expression. I managed a small smile. Ignoring her usual protests, I linked my arm through hers. “You know what? You’re absolutely right. I’m done with him. I’m taking your advice.” Chloe and I had always been rivals, constantly sniping at each other. But in my past life, after my family went bankrupt, all the fake friends who used to flatter me vanished instantly. Chloe, my supposed nemesis, was the one who actually started checking in on me. As for why Ethan wasn’t here yet… I knew exactly why. This was the year. The year Ethan had that accident – paragliding, I think it was. He was in a coma for days. When he woke up, Lily White was there by his bedside. She had bandages on, scratches on her pretty face. He was incredibly moved. Finding out Lily didn’t have a job, he ignored his family’s objections and hired her as his personal assistant. The very next day, they were splashed all over social media, riding a carousel at an amusement park. It even trended online. Mom heard the whispers around us and squeezed my hand reassuringly. “Ellie, don’t listen to them. You and Ethan grew up together. We all know he cares about you deep down.” I squeezed her hand back, seeing the worry in her eyes. “Mom, I’m fine. Really. I haven’t liked Ethan that way for a long time.” From the look on her face, she clearly didn’t believe me. And why would she? I used to follow Ethan around like a shadow. Saying I was suddenly over him? No one would buy it. “Ellie,” Mom’s grip tightened, her eyes lighting up, “Look, Ethan’s here!” 03 I followed her gaze. Ethan was just getting out of his car, head slightly bowed. The murmurs in the room died down the moment he appeared. We’d grown up together. It was an unspoken understanding between our families that we’d eventually merge the Vance and Hayes legacies through marriage. But Ethan didn’t walk towards us. Instead, he went around to the passenger side and opened the door. He reached in and helped out a girl dressed in a flowing white dress. The whispering started again, louder this time. “The heiress versus the ingenue…” “Looks like the newcomer won this round.” Ethan held Lily White’s delicate wrist and strode towards the main gathering area. Lily clung to his side like a frightened bird. When she saw me, she flinched and ducked slightly behind him. Ethan noticed her movement, followed her gaze to where I stood, and his expression soured. 04 I almost laughed out loud. I really was blind in my past life. I hadn’t noticed any of this back then. The moment Ethan arrived, my stupid, love-struck brain took over, and I rushed towards him. When I saw Lily, I lost it completely, calling her a homewrecker right there in front of everyone. It wasn’t my fault, not really, but my emotional outburst embarrassed the Hayes family terribly. And who got all the sympathy? Lily, the fragile flower. Thinking back, I forced my expression back to neutral. “Hi, Eleanor!” Lily peeked out from behind Ethan, offered a quick greeting, and immediately ducked back again. “Don’t you dare call her that, like you’re family! Who do you think you are?” Before I could even react, Chloe jumped in, fiercely protective. Ethan’s brow furrowed deeply. “Eleanor Vance, is this how you treat the person who saved my life?” Seriously? I hadn’t even said a word, and it was still my fault? How had I never noticed how messed up Ethan was before? “Ethan, it’s okay. I don’t mind,” Lily murmured, pulling at his sleeve. Her voice trembled, a single tear clinging precariously to her lashes. “I grew up poor, in the countryside. It’s only natural that people look down on me.” Look at that performance! So pitiful, so fragile. Any idiot would fall for that, right? I almost wanted to applaud her skill. Predictably, Ethan’s face darkened further. He gently wiped the tear from Lily’s cheek, murmuring soft reassurances. Then he turned back to me, glaring daggers. “Eleanor, you have absolutely no class!” 05 The composure I’d been fighting to maintain finally snapped, and I let out a laugh. Beside me, Mom and Chloe both looked worried. I waved a hand dismissively. “I’m fine.” Lily White was a truly gifted actress. Much more dedicated than Ethan, who couldn’t even be bothered to pretend in front of my own mother. It was pathetic how lovesick and blind I’d been in my past life, completely missing her true colors. I’d almost bought her whole innocent damsel act. Her schemes, her ambition – she hid it all so well behind that sweet facade. She fooled everyone. 06 I remember back then, weak and recovering from the shock of my family’s ruin, I’d asked Ethan why he fell for Lily. “Everyone around me is nice to me because I’m the Hayes heir,” he’d said. “Even your family, even you, Eleanor. Isn’t that why you stuck around?” At the time, his words completely threw me off. I just stayed silent, unable to respond. To him, my silence was proof of his accusation. “That’s why you’ll never compare to Lily,” he continued. “Her love for me is pure. Unconditional.” Looking back now, that whole speech was a massive red flag signaling just how warped his thinking was. So, being the heir to the Hayes fortune was some kind of burden for him? Fine, then give it up! He enjoyed all the perks and privileges that came with his family name but didn’t want any of the responsibility. What a joke. Lily takes care of him for a few months, and he remembers it forever. I took care of him for years, and he forgot in an instant. The watch he wore paragliding, the clothes – all high-end luxury brands. Was it really that hard to figure out he was wealthy? Lily obviously recognized the signs and decided to stick close to him, playing the long game. 07 “Ethan,” Lily whispered, tears welling up again, “Is… is Eleanor laughing at me?” “Maybe… maybe you should just ignore me. I’m not good enough for you anyway.” “Eleanor,” she turned her tear-streaked face towards me, “it’s all my fault. Please don’t misunderstand Ethan. I just mentioned I’d never been to a fancy party like this, and he kindly brought me along.” “Well, look at you, knowing exactly where you stand. That’s something, I guess. Not many people have that kind of self-awareness these days.” Chloe rolled her eyes so hard I thought they might get stuck. “Enough!” Ethan roared, his voice cutting through the party chatter, silencing the entire hall. Lily jumped, feigning fright, her hand trembling as she clutched his suit jacket. Ethan captured her hand, holding it tightly in his own. I, meanwhile, casually picked up a glass of red wine, sipping it slowly as I enjoyed the melodrama unfolding. “Eleanor, can you forgive me?” Lily pleaded, looking at me with those big, tearful eyes. I took another sip of wine, saying nothing. After all, Chloe was the one laying into her. I just wanted to slap her. Suddenly, Ethan lunged forward and smacked the wine glass out of my hand. Red wine splashed onto the polished floor and my dress. “Eleanor Vance, don’t push it!” 08 “What did I even do? Just watch the pity party?” I didn’t react aggressively, just calmly dabbed at the wine staining my hand. Dealing with Ethan’s tantrums for years had unexpectedly turned me into a master of emotional control. “Is this how you treat guests? Is this the kind of manners the Hayes family taught you?” He turned back to Lily, dabbing at her crocodile tears again, before whirling back to me, his voice sharp: “Apologize to Lily! Now!” I couldn’t help it; I laughed again. “Guest? Since when is she a guest?” This time, I deliberately dropped the empty glass I was holding onto the floor. The shattering sound echoed in the now dead-silent room. “You brought a complete stranger into my family’s home uninvited. I should have had security escort her out. Now you’re causing a scene at my birthday party? Really, Ethan, where are your manners?” Last time around, Lily played the victim, Ethan was willfully blind, and I was the fool. The three of us created a trashy high-society drama that everyone gossiped about for weeks. I suddenly remembered something from my past life: I’d seen Lily acting suspiciously at the engagement party, talking furtively to someone bundled up, maybe even handing something over. Not long after that, a major Hayes project fell through spectacularly. It should have been a sure thing, but some small, insignificant company snatched it right out from under them. My gut told me the two incidents were connected. I called Ethan immediately, warned him to be careful around Lily. He blew up at me, accused me of trying to sabotage Lily just so I could force the engagement. It wasn’t until the night he killed me that he finally admitted it. He said it was because of my warning call that he confronted Lily out on the yacht. She got angry and jumped overboard. So, according to his twisted logic, I was the one who killed Lily White. Seriously, what kind of messed-up reasoning is that? He managed to be both the fool and the blind man in that scenario. 09 The upper crust of this city is a small world. Most people at the party were familiar faces, regulars at these events. Even bringing a date usually involves adding them to the guest list beforehand. Now, curious and judgmental eyes were all focused on Lily. Unable to stand the whispers, Lily shrank further behind Ethan. “Eleanor, why are you deliberately making things hard for Lily? Apologize!” Ethan’s inner knight-in-shining-armor complex flared up as he shielded her. His yelling was giving me a headache. I took a couple of steps back, forcing a tight smile. “You know, Ethan, you kind of remind me of a soap opera actor.” He clearly didn’t get the sarcastic reference, probably thinking I was complimenting his looks. “You think flattering me will work? No chance! Apologize!” “Hahahaha! A soap actor! That’s perfect! Hahaha, and he thinks she means he’s handsome!” Chloe doubled over laughing behind me. I couldn’t help the corners of my eyes crinkling in amusement. I really must have been blind. How did I ever think this guy was smart and sophisticated? “You’re mocking me!” His face flushed with anger. “Mom, are Grandpa and Mr. Hayes still in the study?” I ignored Ethan’s outburst and turned to my mother. Mom nodded, looking a bit dazed. I lifted the hem of my dress and headed towards the study. Seeing me make a move towards his grandfather, Ethan hurried after me. “What now? Going to run crying to Grandpa again?” “That’s all you ever do. Same old trick every time.” “Hey! Wait up!” I ignored his shouting and walked straight to the study door. Sometimes, calling in the grown-ups isn’t just for kids; it’s necessary for dealing with adult idiots you can’t reason with. My grandfather and Ethan’s grandfather, old Mr. Hayes, had been best friends since childhood. After Ethan’s parents died tragically, Mr. Hayes, already semi-retired, had to step back in to stabilize the family company. Worried someone might try to harm Ethan during the transition, Mr. Hayes asked my family to look out for him. My parents basically raised him alongside me. And now, Ethan was stubbornly insisting on choosing Lily. Old Mr. Hayes felt deeply indebted to my family because of this whole situation, which meant he usually indulged my requests. “Eleanor, don’t you dare use your birthday to make some unreasonable demand! I’m telling you, I am not marrying you!” So, he’d heard the rumors that Mr. Hayes planned to announce our engagement tonight. I glanced back at him. He really had been sheltered his whole life, completely clueless about the strategic importance of a Vance-Hayes merger. Perfect timing. Hearing the commotion, my grandfather opened the study door. “Ellie, what brings you here? Did you hear your wish is about to come true and came to thank your Grandpa Hayes early?” Ever since I turned eighteen, my birthday wish every year had been to marry Ethan Hayes. “Grandpa,” I said, taking his arm, “I don’t like Ethan anymore. I don’t want to marry him.” At first, Grandpa probably thought I was just throwing another fit. But when he saw the dead seriousness in my eyes, his expression changed, breaking into a wide grin. “Alright then! If you don’t want to marry him, you don’t have to. My dear Ellie deserves much better.” I knew Grandpa hadn’t been happy with Ethan for a while. He only tolerated the idea because he knew how much I supposedly loved him. The engagement announcement was quietly shelved. Later, when the birthday cake arrived, I closed my eyes and made a wish. “I only wish for my family to be safe, happy, and prosperous.”

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“So, Alex, you finally came around?” When I was shown into Harrison Vance’s study, the man, coiled like a panther in the dim light, swiveled his chair and spoke, his voice deep. His smile sent a chill down my spine. I swallowed down the discomfort, keeping my face blank. “I’ve thought it through. I need fifty million dollars.” “And what are you offering in return?” Harrison laced his fingers under his chin, looking entirely too comfortable. “One week. Whatever Mr. Vance wants.” Harrison let out a hearty laugh at that. “Alex Chen,” he said, his tone shifting, becoming almost intimate. “Or maybe I can call you Alex?” “Alex,” he continued, “turns out you’re not that expensive after all.” He stood up then, casually pulling me into his arms. I felt my body stiffen slightly against him, and he slowly, patiently, started loosening my tie, his fingers brushing against my exposed neck. The first time I saw Alex Chen was back in college. Tall and lean, with smooth, pale skin and features that still held a touch of youthful innocence. He looked almost identical to Julian Wells, the golden boy of the Wells family, yet somehow, you could tell them apart instantly. Harrison Vance absolutely adored that face. But this young man wasn’t Julian. Julian Wells was the cherished son, an angel untainted by the world, a delicate flower nurtured in a greenhouse, someone to be cultivated and protected. Alex Chen was different. Taking money he shouldn’t have, dreaming dreams beyond his station. An illegitimate son, thinking he could grab a piece of Apex Corp? Ridiculous. Making him face reality early would be a public service, really. But Harrison didn’t want to do that just yet. He loved that face too much. “Someone like you won’t make it into the upper echelons without leveraging what you have,” he’d said. “I like you. Perhaps we could make a deal.” “You can have anything you want. All I want is you.” He couldn’t wait to see this young man break down beneath him, weeping. It would be a beautiful sight. But he couldn’t rush it. He had to wait, slowly. Harrison waited for two weeks, precisely so that Alex Chen would come to him, pretending it was his own choice, offering himself up willingly. Under Harrison’s mocking gaze, my hands trembled as I undid the buttons of my shirt, like unwrapping a costly, fragile gift. I knew I was walking into an abyss. But there was no turning back now. 2. Two weeks earlier, Harrison Vance had practically handed me a prime piece of real estate. I couldn’t fathom why the shrewd Harrison Vance would suddenly back out at the last moment of the bidding war. “Since Mr. Chen wants this land so badly, I’ll do him the favor. Be the good guy for once,” he’d announced. I never associated Harrison Vance with the words “good guy,” but the documents my assistant provided checked out perfectly. The plot was almost too good to be true. There was an old youth center on it, but it was dilapidated; relocating it should have been straightforward. There was no logical reason for Harrison to let this juicy prize slip through his fingers and into mine. “Sometimes you have to give your rivals a little breathing room. It fosters healthy competition. I look forward to seeing what Mr. Chen accomplishes,” Harrison had murmured close to my ear as he left, his tone disturbingly intimate, stirring up unpleasant memories. I had a bad feeling about it all. Later, I found out exactly what was wrong. My plan was to build a high-end shopping mall, Skyview Plaza, on that land. The architectural designs were commissioned from a world-renowned firm, and leasing negotiations were well underway. Then, out of nowhere, officials showed up, waving evidence that the deed was still held by the youth center’s trust. Apex Corp had no legal right to begin construction. Adding insult to injury, the situation attracted a swarm of reporters, hounding me, demanding to know why I was so heartless as to try and take away the only home these underprivileged kids had. The mall project collapsed. Back at the office, the loss report was already on my desk: fifty million dollars. Eleanor Croft, the matriarch of the family that controlled Apex, slammed the report onto my face. She told me if I didn’t recoup the losses within a month, I could pack my bags and get the hell out of Apex Corp. As the head of the Croft family, Eleanor allowing an illegitimate son like me into the company was already considered an act of extreme generosity. Never mind that she hadn’t given me a single share of stock but had thrown me into a VP position. Never mind that she wouldn’t even let me take the family name. Never mind that I wasn’t allowed to set foot in the main family estate unless specifically invited. If Eleanor Croft’s own son wasn’t severely autistic, a quiet boy lost in his own world, would she ever have let the son of her husband’s mistress spend her money on a top-tier US education, only to bring him back to help manage her company? That day, I tore the giant promotional poster for Skyview Plaza to shreds, then sat amidst the wreckage, burying my face in my hands. Walking on thin ice every day was exhausting. At least now, the ice had finally, completely shattered. “Can we… not do this in the study?” As I stripped off my clothes, I managed to ask, my voice rough with shame. It sounded surprisingly appealing, that raw edge in my voice. Harrison just chuckled softly and pushed me down onto the desk. As waves of unfamiliar pain washed over me, my consciousness blurred through a steady stream of tears I couldn’t stop. In that moment, I felt like giving in: “Mr. Vance… you were right… This is the only way I can survive in that place…” “I don’t just want the fifty million… I… I want more…” Hearing my mumbled words, Harrison paused. He wasn’t surprised. People are greedy, aren’t they? After all, even he had to admit, this body was more delicious than he’d anticipated. 3. I rarely thought about the past. To me, the past was something to be discarded like worn-out shoes. It served no purpose except to highlight how insignificant I was. Growing up, I was always exceptional. Top grades, good at sports, and crucially, I had the looks. Girls were always writing me letters, secretly taking photos of me to sell, blushing as they stood before me confessing crushes. Truthfully, the grades and sports didn’t matter much; they were just bonus points. The girls were captivated by my face alone. Talent is only meaningful when it’s needed. If that’s the case, then good looks are a kind of talent too. But beyond that, I had nothing. I only knew how to spend money, not make it. I had to care for my sick mother. We lived in a cramped, 200-square-foot apartment. I wouldn’t have survived without part-time jobs and odd gigs. Nobody wanted to be friends with someone like that. No girl, once she found out the reality, wanted to stay with me. I studied relentlessly, desperately trying to improve my life. But just like Harrison Vance said, some things can’t be obtained no matter how hard you try. The day after my mother passed away, someone claiming to be from my father’s family showed up at my door, telling me it was time to be acknowledged. How naive I was. How could they have found me so precisely the day after my mother died? How could my father, whom I’d never met, suddenly take such an interest in his illegitimate son? I never met my father. Instead, I met Eleanor Croft. She presented me with an agreement and told me to sign it. Go to a top university, get a degree. If my performance was outstanding enough, I could come back and take over managing the company. It was an incredible offer, dropping from the sky, leaving me dizzy. I agreed almost without thinking. Vice President of Apex Corp, a member of the Croft family circle – titles I’d never dreamed of seemed to be desperately throwing themselves at me. I threw myself into my studies, forced myself to network, did countless things I was never good at before. Eleanor did make me a VP. But she never let me take the family name, and I still never met my father. He had no real power anymore. The President and majority shareholder of Apex Corp was Eleanor Croft. And Eleanor Croft had an autistic son. He looked a lot like me, but his fate was entirely different. Raised in a mansion, born a young master, needing to do nothing yet provided for, happy and secure. “Someone like you won’t make it into the upper echelons without leveraging what you have,” Harrison Vance had said. “You’re just an illegitimate kid. I gave you the VP title, and I can take it away anytime. Don’t think you’ll get a dime from this family. I paid for your education; I didn’t raise a useless bum,” Eleanor Croft had said. I still didn’t understand. Why, after I had accomplished so much, after I had worked so hard to become capable, could others still so easily take away everything I held in my hands? But the thing I was best at in life was bowing to fate. Talent is only meaningful when it’s needed. If this face, this body, is a kind of talent, then let’s use it to its fullest. 4. Seven AM. I woke up. At times like this, I hated the impeccable internal clock forged by years of high-intensity work. Once in the study yesterday, I was already barely conscious. Then, later, he carried me to the bed for two more rounds. Finally, Harrison seemed almost gentle as he carried me to the shower, washing me thoroughly, inside and out. I supposed I should thank him. I heard if you don’t clean up properly afterward, you end up with a fever and diarrhea instead of just aching all over. I pushed myself upright. My entire body felt like it had been disassembled and poorly put back together. He’d applied some kind of ointment back there, but it still hurt. Hurt enough to make me wince. I didn’t understand the point of any of this, but since Mr. Vance enjoyed it, I guess it was a win-win. I managed to get up and head to the bathroom. The clothes I’d arrived in were gone. Opening the closet, I found it stuffed with all sorts of clothes. I picked out the most basic shirt and trousers and put them on. Despite feeling like crap all over, I had to go to the office. Meetings to attend, projects to discuss, yesterday’s mess to clean up. Only after getting dressed did I realize the clothes fit perfectly. The butler was clearly surprised to see me up so early, but Harrison himself was also there, leaning against the wall at the end of the hallway. “Since you’re up, let’s have breakfast together.” I sat down without a word. I disliked milk, but faced with the bowl of cereal and milk on the table, I started eating without complaint. Harrison took his time, just watching me. “How was yesterday?” “It hurt.” “Are you complaining about my technique? Perhaps we should try again tonight?” I didn’t answer, just ate quickly and elegantly. “Eleanor Croft certainly trained you well.” “Can we please not discuss nauseating topics while eating?” Harrison chuckled, then slowly started eating too. “About your request yesterday, I have a constructive suggestion. Want to hear it?” I glanced at him but said nothing. “You stay with me for one month. I’ll help you get 5% of Apex Corp stock.” My hand paused for a second. I swallowed the last mouthful of milk. Then I stood up and walked towards the door. “How long have you been planning this, Mr. Vance?” “About four years, I guess. Since the first time I saw you.” “You’ve prepared thoroughly. You even know my clothing sizes perfectly.” Harrison detected a hint of something – maybe satisfaction? – in my voice, and felt a strange flicker of pleasure himself. “As long as you like it.” “Then your research wasn’t detailed enough. I hate milk.” I walked out. Harrison pursed his lips, folding his hands. “Can you be back by eight tonight?” “I’ll try.” “I’ll have the driver pick you up.” “No need. I’ll drive myself.” I walked straight out without looking back. Such a proud, stubborn little cat. The more he acted like this, the more tempting it was to… utterly break him. Nine PM. I was lying face down on the bed, silent, while Harrison was on top of me, doing whatever he pleased. His movements were rough, merciless. As soon as we got back, Harrison had pushed me onto the bed like a starved wolf, stripping me bare in seconds. Meanwhile, Mr. Vance himself remained impeccably dressed. It went on like this for three consecutive days. I had learned to endure. I tried my best not to show any aversion, just to keep Harrison satisfied. When it was finally over, Harrison patted me. “Alex is getting more obedient.” I controlled my breathing. “As long as Mr. Vance is satisfied.” “Yes, very satisfied so far. But now,” Harrison smirked, pulling me close again, “we’ll see how well you really perform.” The night was still young. 5. I just finished a very long meeting. Harrison had kept me up late last night, leaving me feeling foggy and drained today. But meetings don’t get canceled for that. Nobody cared how I was doing anyway. Men just aren’t built for that kind of thing, are they? I pinched the bridge of my nose and asked my assistant for another coffee. Once this current project was successfully completed, once I had that 5% stock in hand, maybe I could finally catch a break. Just then, my phone rang. It was Maya Lin, a friend from middle school I’d reconnected with after returning from overseas and starting at Apex Corp. She still didn’t know I was a VP at Apex, which kept our interactions refreshingly simple. Maya was a cheerful girl, working as a waitress. She came from a large family that wasn’t well-off, but she lived each day with infectious joy and freedom. I really liked her positive attitude; it was something I’d never possessed. She was my only friend. If “friend” means someone you can be genuine with. “Alex, I have the day off today! Are you free? There’s a new BBQ place downtown that’s getting great reviews. Wanna check it out?” “Yeah, I’m free.” “Great! How about we meet at the restaurant at six-thirty?” “Okay.” I hung up, feeling a lift in my spirits. But just then, my assistant knocked and entered, holding a bouquet. “Mr. Chen, a florist just delivered these for you.” I paused for a second, then took the flowers. White roses, with a small card tucked between the stems. “Six-thirty tonight, meet me at The White House.” The smile vanished from my face. Six-thirty. Harrison sat in a private room at The White House. French cuisine, elegant ambiance, perfect for a date. I pushed the door open. Harrison looked up, a smile playing on his lips. “Alex, you’re punctual.” I didn’t waste time on pleasantries, sitting down directly and unbuttoning my suit jacket. “Going to all this trouble, one might think this is a date.” “Isn’t it?” Harrison chuckled. “Don’t joke, Mr. Vance. This is a transaction between us. Things like this are meaningless.” “Alex, you have a clear head, I’ll give you that. But you also know this is a transaction, which naturally means the buyer needs to be fully satisfied.” Harrison’s smile turned cold. “I hear Alex has a girl he’s quite fond of… Maya Lin, was it?” My hand tightened abruptly on the napkin in my lap. “That’s my private business. Mr. Vance needn’t concern himself.” “How can it be your private business, Alex?” Harrison picked up the decanter, slowly pouring vibrant red wine into my glass. “The agreement is you spend one month with me. If Alex still has time for flirting with little girls during this month, isn’t that a complaint about my… performance?” I wanted to say, “She’s just a friend.” But I knew it didn’t matter what I thought. What mattered was what Harrison Vance wanted. And whatever Harrison wanted, I had to provide. So, in the end, I just said, “I understand.” Harrison didn’t seem inclined to let it go. “The food here is excellent. Try some, Alex. Tonight, when we get back, we can discuss further… how to be a truly satisfactory lover.” 6. Dinner concluded in a tense silence. Harrison was clearly displeased with my rigid demeanor. But his manners were impeccable; even displeased, he remained graceful, his smile fixed. In the car on the way back, he dropped a casual sentence that sent ice flooding through my veins. “I wonder if Alex is interested in… exploring some kinks? Perhaps we could try playing some different games. What do you think?” The look he gave me was filled with naked malice. “I think, after these past few days, Alex should be quite adaptable by now. Consider it my mercy towards you. After all,” he added, the words dripping with false affection, “I like you so much.” My heart turned colder and colder. That night, Harrison subjected me to a new kind of humiliation, forcing me into degrading positions, treating me less like a person and more like a pet to be toyed with.

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My wife went to her high school reunion and didn’t come home that night. Her old flame, Connor, lost some drinking game, and the penalty was picking someone of the opposite sex for a slow dance right there on the spot. He walked straight up to my wife, Sarah. “Can I pick you?” Sarah didn’t say no. So, right there, in front of everyone, they were wrapped in each other’s arms, swaying slowly. Eyes locked, practically dripping sweetness. You could almost see the sparks. Everyone else was looking at me, trying hard not to snicker. I walked over to them, pulling out my phone. “Well, according to tradition, after the dance comes the honeymoon suite, right?” I announced, loud enough for everyone. “Which hotel do you guys prefer? I’ll book you a room!” Jaws dropped. Everyone stared at me. Sarah looked completely baffled, her eyes wide with confusion. “Better hurry, don’t want to miss the magic moment,” I said, waving my phone in front of them. “Time’s a-wasting!” Sarah’s face flushed bright red. She tried to pull away from Connor, but he actually tightened his arm around her waist, pulling her back slightly. Like he was daring me. “Liam, what the hell is wrong with you? Are you sick?” Sarah hissed, her eyebrows knitted together. Seeing a fight brewing, people nearby quickly jumped in. “Come on, Liam, don’t get bent out of shape. It was just a game.” “Yeah, man, just messing around. You’re not gonna take it seriously, right?” Connor flashed a smile as bright as the sun, but his eyes were pure challenge. I sat back down and pointed to a pretty woman across the room. “Come sit on my lap, let’s share a drink real close.” “Hey, screw you! You hitting on my wife?” the guy next to her roared. Connor scoffed. “See, Liam? Sarah and I were playing a game. You’re just being a creep.” I felt sick. Look at these hypocrites! “Enough!” Sarah couldn’t take it anymore. She glared at me like she wanted to eat me alive. “Liam, there was nothing going on! You always have to blow things out of proportion!” “So Connor and I shared a dance, big deal! We’re just friends!” “You come barging in, making a scene! You’re so damn petty! Why do you have to be such a small-minded, insecure man?!” Sarah pointed her finger right at me, yelling. I sighed inwardly. This was all too familiar. With Sarah, whatever she did was right. I couldn’t question anything, or I was the one in the wrong. Maybe our relationship was skewed from the start. Sarah was the girl I worshipped in high school. We reconnected by chance years later, right after she’d been dumped and was drunk off her ass. “Liam, my world’s gone dark,” she sobbed uncontrollably. “I’ll be your light from now on,” I’d said, holding her, my heart aching for her. “Liam, will you marry me?” Overjoyed and barely thinking straight, I agreed. We got the license. After we married, I treated her like a queen, my angel. A year later, she gave birth to our beautiful daughter, Lily. I became even more devoted, catering to her every whim. But she took my adoration as a license to do whatever she wanted. The slightest thing could set her off. She’d scream, yell, point her finger in my face. I wasn’t allowed to argue back. I had to apologize, beg for forgiveness. At home, I couldn’t even stand up to pee. Sarah claimed I’d splash the toilet seat, breeding germs and viruses. She might get some kind of infection, she said. “For my health, you have to sit down to pee!” When I sat there, I felt like a eunuch, like a woman – anything but a man. I didn’t dare stand. If she caught me, I’d face her volcanic wrath. “Liam, how many times do I have to tell you? Why are you still standing up to use the toilet?” “Do you have any sense of responsibility? Can’t you think about me for once?” “You’re unbelievable! Playing games with my health! You don’t love me at all!” The yelling would escalate to throwing things, sometimes even hitting me. I just took it, burying the humiliation deep inside. She was dominant in everything; I yielded in everything. I changed completely for her, inside and out. Old friends said I wasn’t the same person. Only I knew the bitterness I swallowed daily. Predictably, the reunion ended on a sour note. “Fine! Since you want it so bad, I’ll go get a room with Connor!” That was the last thing Sarah threw at me. Whether it was just spite or not, she walked out with Connor in front of everyone and got into his car. The others looked at me like I was pathetic, a piece of wilted lettuce. I just gave a cold laugh and left. What a joke of a reunion. More like a gathering of vultures – not a decent person among them. I drove home, got into bed. But just as I lay down, my phone rang. It was Sarah, sounding panicked. “Liam, oh my God, it’s bad! Connor and I got into a car accident…” Hearing this, I couldn’t help but smile grimly. What could I say? Karma, maybe. “Liam, you have to come, please come… I’m scared…” Sarah’s voice was choked with tears. My first instinct was to ignore it. But then I thought, she’s still my wife, Lily’s mother. She might be hurt. When I got to the scene, she was clinging to Connor’s arm, tears streaming down her face. She just had a few scrapes, nothing serious. But when I turned Connor over, I jumped. His face was covered in blood. Both eyelids were split open. He was badly hurt. Looks like his eyes slammed into the steering wheel. It was a bloody mess. Possible head trauma too. “Did you call 911?” “No, Liam, I… I called you, and then my phone died. His phone broke in the crash… Oh God, this is awful…” Sarah sobbed. What an idiot. First thought in a car crash isn’t 911, but calling me? I’m not a doctor. If I hadn’t come, Connor might have actually died. I quickly called for an ambulance. Even though I despised Connor, it was still a human life. Once the ambulance arrived, I was ready to leave. “Liam, where are you going?” Sarah ran over as I started my car. “Home. To sleep.” Sarah looked furious. “Connor’s been in a serious accident, and you’re thinking about sleeping?!” Huh? I was stunned. I called 911, saved Connor’s sorry ass. That was more than enough, wasn’t it? But Sarah wasn’t satisfied. She demanded, “You have to come to the hospital with me to take care of Connor. You’re stronger than me; I can’t handle him alone.” I just floored the gas pedal and left, leaving Sarah coughing in my exhaust fumes. Back home, I fell straight asleep. Without Sarah next to me, the king-sized bed felt incredibly spacious and comfortable. No worries about my snoring getting me kicked onto the floor. I slept like a log that night, deeply and peacefully. Meanwhile, Sarah spent the night at the hospital. The next day, I found out what happened. Sarah was fine. Connor’s situation was tricky. Luckily, no brain damage. He’d kept his miserable life. Unluckily, his eyes were severely damaged. Both corneas were destroyed. He was probably going blind. Sarah called me, crying her eyes out. I comforted her on the phone while secretly laughing inside. “You go ahead and cry for a bit. I need to take Lily to school.” I hung up and dropped Lily off. Sarah stayed at the hospital for three days straight. I honestly couldn’t understand. Was an old flame really that important? Important enough for a married woman with a child to abandon her home for three days? Thankfully, Lily wasn’t particularly attached to her. She hadn’t even asked where her mom was. On the fourth day, Sarah finally came home. Her eyes were red and swollen, like she’d just finished crying. As soon as she walked in, she was like a different person. She started cooking, then cleaning the house. I stared in disbelief. Had hell frozen over? In five years of marriage, I’d done all the housework. Sarah never lifted a finger. She usually just lounged around playing on her phone. She didn’t even work. Said she was too delicate, got tired easily, couldn’t handle a job. Which was fine, really. Sarah came from money. Her dad left her a huge inheritance before he passed, enough to last her lifetime. And I owned two successful restaurants myself. But her behavior today was completely out of character. “Sarah, what’s gotten into you?” I sat down across from her, curious and confused. Sarah looked at me, wringing her hands, her eyes filled with anxiety and nervousness. “Liam, could you… could you do something for me? A really big favor?” “What is it?” I braced myself. If she wanted a divorce, I was ready to drive her to the courthouse right then. “Liam, Connor’s eyes… they’re ruined. He can’t see anymore.” “Yeah, I know.” “Well…” Sarah fidgeted, stood up, sat back down, sighed heavily a few times before finally speaking. “Liam, could you… could you donate one of your corneas to Connor?” “What?” Her words hit me like a physical blow. I was stunned, speechless. “The accident caused severe trauma to his eyes. Both corneas are destroyed, beyond repair. He needs corneal transplants.” “But there’s a massive shortage of donors right now…” Sarah looked at me pleadingly, cautiously. My blood pressure shot through the roof. How could such a bizarre, twisted woman exist? Asking her own husband to gouge out his eye for her ex-boyfriend! “Sure. When I’m dead,” I said, my voice ice-cold, staring right at her. Sarah frowned instantly. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I couldn’t be bothered to answer. I got up to leave. She grabbed my arm. “Liam, I know it’s a terrible thing to ask, but I owe Connor. It’s my fault he got hurt.” “When he was driving… I… I kissed him. That’s what caused the crash.” “Connor’s suffering so much. If we don’t help him, my conscience will torture me for the rest of my life.” “Liam, please, do a good deed. Think of it as helping me atone. I’ve never asked you for anything like this before, but I’m truly begging you now…” I just stared at her silently, the amusement, contempt, and coldness in my eyes clearly stinging her. She suddenly shot to her feet, spitting out words that would be seared into my memory forever. “You have two corneas! What’s the big deal giving one to Connor?” “You’d only lose one cornea! But Connor… Connor is losing his entire future, his light!” I was shaking with rage. “Since you feel so bad for him, why don’t you give him your cornea?” “What? You want me to do it?” “Are you even a man? Asking a woman to do something like that?” “Do you even love me? You clearly don’t, or you’d never say such a thing!” Sarah became hysterical. I stormed into the kitchen, grabbed a steak knife, and threw it down in front of her. “Fine. I’ll give Connor a cornea. You cut it out.” She actually picked up the knife, looking at my eyes. An immense wave of despair washed over me. This is what happens when you’re a doormat. You give her everything, and in the end, she wants to carve out your eye. “Liam, I… I don’t know how. Let’s have a doctor do it.” Sarah put the knife down and pulled a document out of her purse. “This is a voluntary cornea donation consent form. Just sign it, and then we can go to the hospital for the surgery.” She even had the form ready. This clearly wasn’t some spur-of-the-moment idea. That was it. I finally snapped. I shoved her roughly, sending her sprawling onto the floor, and slapped her hard across the face. “Sarah, you goddamn bitch!”

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I did three years in prison, taking the fall for my little brother. While I was inside, pure luck had me save the son of some billionaire tycoon. As a thank you, the tycoon wired $10 million into an account for me. The day I got out, the first thing I did was call my dad, excited to share the unbelievable news. But the second he heard my voice, click. He hung up. My gut clenched. Something must be wrong at home. I grabbed a cab and rushed over. I was just outside the apartment door when I heard my sister-in-law, Ashley, complaining loud enough for the neighbors to hear: “Couldn’t he have picked any other day to get out? Seriously? Now I missed my prenatal check-up because we had to rush the deed transfer.” Then my mom’s voice: “Honey, it’s for the best. He paid for this place, sure, but with a prison record, finding work will be impossible. What if he just plans to crash here and mooch off us forever?” Ashley scoffed. “If he shows up, tell him to find a rental. I’m not living with an ex-con!” Hearing them, my hand froze halfway to knocking. My heart, which had been pounding with anticipation to see them, just plummeted. It was June, blazing hot outside, but suddenly I felt like I was standing in a freezer. This door… I’d dreamt about walking through this door for three solid years. Now, standing right in front of it felt like standing on a cliff edge. I just stood there for a long moment, unable to move. My parents always favored Ryan, my younger brother. But Ryan… he used to follow me everywhere. I went to prison for him. Surely he wouldn’t want to kick me out? Holding onto that sliver of hope, I finally knocked. Mom opened the door, putting on a surprised face. “Alex! You’re back already? Your dad was just about to head out to pick you up.” She looked me up and down, squeezing out a pained expression. “Oh, you poor thing. Look how thin you are. It must have been hell in there.” If only I hadn’t heard her words from outside the door. If only that concern was real. “It’s okay, Mom. Catching a ride is easy these days,” I said, my voice a little tight. I stepped inside. Ashley immediately came at me, spraying disinfectant like she was trying to hose me down. “Don’t take it personally,” she chirped, “just clearing out the bad juju.” Yeah, right. Her face screamed disgust. She saw me as contaminated goods. An ex-con. Funny, she seemed to forget why I was an ex-con. It was for her and Ryan. I didn’t say anything, just started walking towards my old room. “Don’t bother,” my dad’s voice cut through the air. “There’s no room for you here anymore.” He was slumped on the sofa, chain-smoking. The ashtray was already overflowing with fresh butts. My arrival seemed to have really stressed him out. I stopped, turned to face him. “Dad, I was gone for three years, not dead. Don’t I even deserve a room in my own home?” He stubbed out his cigarette, his voice hard. “The family’s grown, Alex. There just isn’t enough space.” I didn’t argue the point. Instead, I asked, “Where’s Ryan? Does he feel the same way?” Just then, Ryan came out of the bathroom, looking uncomfortable. “Hey, Alex… look, Ashley’s two months pregnant. Things are… tight. Space-wise, I mean.” He hesitated, then added quickly, “But hey, you’re my brother, right? Family first. If you really need a place, I guess… I can clear out the nursery we just set up.” He said it like he was being generous. I nodded slowly. “Okay. The baby’s not due for another seven months anyway. I’ll take the nursery for now.” Ryan’s face froze. He opened his mouth, then closed it, looking trapped. Ashley couldn’t hold back anymore. She stormed over, yelling right in my face. “Are you kidding me? How selfish can you be? Can’t you see we’re crammed in here? You actually want to take the baby’s room? The nerve!” I almost laughed, it was so absurd. “We all fit before. I go away for three years, the baby isn’t even here yet, and suddenly there’s no room? And Ashley, need I remind you? I bought this apartment. Paid in full.” My dad slammed his hand on the coffee table. “Alex! Watch your tone! You think buying a place makes you king of the world? Fresh out of prison and already demanding things?” Disappointment washed over me. “Am I demanding the apartment back? Or are you refusing to even let me have one room?” “I told you already, there’s no room for you! If you need a place to stay, go rent one! We don’t owe you anything!” Dad was practically shouting now, pointing towards the door. A clear eviction notice. “‘Don’t owe me anything’,” I repeated slowly, the words tasting like ash. “Who was it that begged me, tears streaming down their face, to take the fall for Ryan? Who promised that if I did this, I’d be the family’s savior, that you’d spend the rest of your lives repaying me?” “All I’m asking for now is a room in the apartment I paid for. Is that too much? Is this how you repay me?” Each word was heavy, fueled by a churning mix of anger and hurt. Back then, Ryan and Ashley had taken my car, driving recklessly – speeding, wrong way down a one-way street – and hit someone. Killed them. My parents came to me immediately. Ryan had just gotten into a top university, they’d said. His future was so bright. This accident couldn’t ruin him. Me? I was just a clerk at some small company. My future didn’t matter as much. So they cried, they pleaded, they begged me to take the blame. They swore the whole family would be forever grateful once I got out. It wasn’t about getting repaid. I did it because I loved them. I loved my parents, I loved my brother. I was willing to destroy my own life for them. To protect Ryan, I sold my car, emptied my savings account, lost my job, paid the victim’s family compensation, took the conviction, and endured all the public shame. Three years in prison. Three years of hell. I gritted my teeth and got through it. But I never imagined this. Not overwhelming gratitude, not even simple relief. Just… utter betrayal. Rejection. The family I loved, the family I sacrificed everything for… had turned into a pack of ungrateful vultures. “Look, Alex,” Ryan started, his voice laced with frustration, “I know you’re pissed. But these past three years haven’t been easy for us either! Having an ex-con in the family… people talk! They stare! If you move back in, imagine the gossip. Can’t you think about us for a change?” There it was. The brother I’d shielded, the one I’d given everything for, finally showing his true colors. To him, I wasn’t a savior. I was an embarrassment. A burden dragging them down. Any lingering hope I had just… died. This house felt cold, empty. All my sacrifice? A fucking joke. I looked at my brother, this golden child standing taller than me now, and my voice went flat. “Ryan, don’t forget. The one who should be the ex-con is you. The one who brought shame on this family… is you.” “If you really cared about the family’s reputation, you would have confessed back then. Instead, you let me take the hit, you live in my apartment, and now you have the gall to blame me for not thinking about your feelings?” My words hit home. Ryan’s face turned ugly. “I already thanked you for taking the rap! What more do you want? You’re my older brother, isn’t that what older brothers are supposed to do? It was three years, big deal. Why do you keep bringing it up?” He made it sound so trivial. Like me doing three years hard time was the same as letting him have the last slice of pizza when we were kids. A simple ‘thanks’ should cover it. Predictably, Dad jumped to his defense. “He’s right! Older brothers should look out for their younger siblings. Trying to cash in on doing your duty? You’re being petty, Alex.” “Exactly!” Ashley chimed in, rubbing her belly protectively. “You’re just a broke ex-con looking for a handout. If you’re here leeching off us, how are we supposed to raise our child?” Mom nodded gravely, adding her piece with a sigh. “Alex, honey, your father and I are looking forward to being grandparents. And you’re not getting any younger. It’s perfectly normal for someone your age to live on their own, renting if they have to.” One after another, their words stabbed at me. Sharp, cold, relentless. I was beyond disappointed, but my eyes burned anyway. I looked at them, my voice hoarse. “No wonder none of you ever came to visit me. Not once in three years.” “I told myself you were just busy. Too caught up with life. But the truth is… you were just ashamed of me.” I tilted my head back, blinking hard against the tears. Then, looking each of them in the eye, I asked, my voice steady and low, “Let me ask you one last time. Are you absolutely, positively kicking me out today?” “Yes!” Dad didn’t hesitate. Mom, Ryan, Ashley – their faces were set, resolute. No room for negotiation. No trace of affection left in their eyes. I nodded slowly, a heavy finality settling in my chest. “Fine. Then as of today, we’re done. I cut all ties with you.” “I just hope… you don’t regret this.” This family, this house… there was nothing left for me here. The $10 million I’d planned to share? That was off the table now too. Without another word, I turned and walked out. Behind me, I heard Ashley’s voice, shrill with resentment. “Regret what? Cutting ties with a loser ex-con with no future? Don’t flatter yourself!” Leaving the apartment that felt colder than any prison cell, I wandered the streets for hours. Eventually, I checked into a decent hotel. Online, I found a top lawyer and paid for a consultation. The apartment I’d bought outright was in my parents’ names. Could I get it back? The lawyer was optimistic. If I could prove I was the actual buyer – provide payment records, renovation receipts, property tax or HOA payment history – I had a strong case. Luckily, I’m meticulous about keeping records. I had everything. I hired the lawyer on the spot, giving him full authority to handle the case. My goal: get my apartment back. With that settled, I lay on the hotel bed, staring at the nine-figure balance on my banking app. My mind drifted back. Mom and Dad always doted on Ryan. He was the smart one, the one destined for greatness. Me? They pulled me out of high school before I could even finish, told me to get a job to pay for Ryan’s future education. So, I entered the workforce young. Construction sites, waiting tables, factory lines, food delivery – I did every grueling, low-paying job imaginable. The apartment represented nearly ten years of scrimping and saving every penny. When it came time to sign the papers, Mom and Dad laid on the guilt trip. What if I got married and forgot about them? They cried, pleaded, until I agreed to put the deed in their names. We were family, right? What could go wrong? The moment I was out of prison, they transferred the deed to Ryan. Didn’t even save me a closet, let alone a room. I couldn’t forgive my parents. And Ryan… the disappointment ran deep. I’d literally gone to prison for him. And this was his gratitude? Teaming up with Mom, Dad, and Ashley to throw me out on the street. The irony wasn’t lost on me. It was brutal. But dwelling on it wouldn’t change anything. At least fate hadn’t left me completely stranded. I had money now. More than I could probably spend. All my life, I’d worked for my family. Now, with no family left, it was time to live for myself. The next day, I went straight to the sales office of a luxury gated community. They happened to be running a promotion: buy more, save more. So, I bought ten fully furnished houses. Cash. I picked one for myself, hired a housekeeper to cook and clean daily, and settled in. The other nine? Rented them out. I used to dream about being a landlord, living off rental income. I never thought prison would be the path to achieving it. Now, just the rent from those nine houses brought in more money each month than I knew what to do with. Life was, unexpectedly, pretty damn good. About a month later, my dad called. “Alex, have you lost your mind? You’re actually suing us?” “I’m suing the people illegally occupying my property,” I replied calmly. “Wow, Alex. Prison really did change you. Turning on your own family, airing our dirty laundry in public? You’ve got some nerve,” he spat. I could almost picture his face turning purple with rage. “Just following the example you set,” I retorted coolly. Then Mom grabbed the phone. “Alex, even if you get the apartment back, what then? Don’t forget, Ryan just landed a great job at a big company, making six figures! And you? You’re an ex-con nobody will hire. You have no income! You’ll come crawling back to your brother eventually! Are you sure you want to burn this bridge over one lousy apartment?” “Getting the apartment back isn’t about needing it,” I said, my voice flat. “It’s about the fact that you vultures don’t deserve to live in it.” I hung up while they were still yelling. Just as I put my phone down, someone knocked on my front door. I opened it to find a stunning woman standing there. Very attractive, confident vibe. “Hi, landlord,” she smiled. “I’m Chloe, from house number two? Your tenant.” I vaguely remembered her. She was the first person to rent one of my houses. Quick, easy transaction. She saw the place, loved it, signed the lease on the spot. “Right, Chloe. What’s up?” I asked. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, looking slightly embarrassed. “Well, I’m having a little get-together with some old friends right now. They heard about the mystery landlord who bought ten houses cash… and they’re dying to meet you. I was wondering… would you maybe grace us with your presence? Give me some bragging rights?” She batted her eyelashes, looking genuinely hopeful. My first instinct was to say no – I didn’t really know her. But looking at her pleading eyes, I found it hard to refuse. Seeing me hesitate, Chloe clasped her hands together playfully. “Oh, come on, landlord extraordinaire! Please? I already told them I totally knew you and could definitely get you to swing by. Don’t make me look like a liar in front of everyone!” I have a weakness: I can handle confrontation, but I fold easily when people ask nicely. “Alright, fine. I’ll be over in a bit.” Chloe beamed. “Awesome! We’ll be waiting!” After she left, I ditched my sweats, threw on some decent clothes, and walked over to house number two. I knocked. The door swung open. And standing there, glaring at me, was Ashley. My sister-in-law. Ryan was right behind her. “Alex?” Ashley’s eyes narrowed. “Are you seriously stalking us all the way out here?”

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“Jake, did you hear a word I just said?” I snapped back to reality, still groggy. I’d pulled an all-nighter gaming, got my ass handed to me repeatedly, and then got dragged out of bed before eight. Stumbling downstairs in my pajamas and slippers, I saw a woman about my age—curvy, poured into tight clothes, heavy makeup plastered on. She saw me, smirked, and tossed her hair back. I blinked. “Is this the blind date you set up for me?” Dad had been nagging me about finding a girlfriend again. “Don’t be stupid, Jake. This is your mother!” Dad snapped, yanking at his tie, clearly pissed. The woman actually looked a little awkward for a second, fussing with her hair again. Mom? My brain finally kicked into gear. I rubbed my eyes. My mom was dead. “Chloe, honey, come over here. Say hi to your brother.” Just then, a pretty girl with a dark bob haircut, maybe sixteen, dressed in what looked like a prep school uniform, shuffled forward, fiddling with the hem of her skirt. “Hi… uh… Jake,” she mumbled. I frowned, looking her up and down. Pale skin, cute features. Okay, I got it. The old bastard found himself a replacement wife, and she came with a kid. I scoffed. Mom died of cancer just last year. Back then, he was drowning himself in booze and cigarettes, swearing he’d never remarry. And now? Less than a year later, he brings home this dolled-up tramp to replace Mom. Was he seriously asking for my blessing? The three of them were looking at me with these hopeful, expectant eyes. It made me want to puke. “Married already? Don’t call her ‘Mom’,” I snapped. Dad sucked in a sharp breath. Looked like he was about to blow. Yep, same old control freak. Never gave a damn about how I felt. What a selfish prick. My ‘stepmother’ – Heather, I guess her name was – saw things were going south and quickly put on a fake smile. “Rick, honey, he’s just a kid. Don’t get mad.” “Who the hell are you calling kid? Take a look in the mirror. You think you could pop out a son my age?” I sneered. The little girl, Chloe, immediately ducked behind her mom. Dad waved for Maria, our housekeeper, to take her upstairs. “Wow, Rick,” I kept going, “real protective of the new daughter, huh? What, you like the freebie that came with the package? Getting too old to get it up anymore?” Heather’s face went white. Dad rubbed his temples, looking like he wanted to deck me again. Lucky for him, he’s getting old. I shot the woman a look. “Okay, you can leave. We need to talk.” “Rick…” Heather started, trying to grab Dad’s arm. Looked like she knew what was coming. “Get lost,” I spat, turning my back and heading towards the study with Dad. The second the door clicked shut behind us, Dad slapped me. Hard. My cheek stung. Yeah, take off the suit, and he’s just an animal underneath. I felt numb. “What’s her magic trick, huh? What potion did she give you? You hitting me over her?” He actually looked a little guilty hearing that. “You don’t leave me any dignity in front of people.” Ah, there it was. I nodded slowly. Still the most selfish person I knew. For a second there, I almost thought he was actually falling for this woman. I fiddled with my phone, acting bored. “When did you meet her? How long has this been going on?” “Last year,” Dad mumbled, lighting a cigarette and blowing smoke rings. “She listens, doesn’t mess around. Having a daughter doesn’t matter.” “You mean you’re just scared if she had a son, it wouldn’t be yours, right?” I smirked. He glared. “You little asshole. Stop grilling me. What about you? Still planning on taking that gap year instead of reapplying to grad school?” School, school, school. That’s all he ever cared about. Man barely finished college himself, and here he was lecturing me, a grad student—or supposed to be one. The only thing he ever gave a damn about was my grades. Last year, Mom was in the final stages of cancer. They hid it from me until she only had days left. Bringing this woman home without a word was the same damn thing. I hated it. He never treated me like family. As soon as I got the news about Mom, I booked the first flight back from Europe and hadn’t gone back since. If I had, who knows what kind of crap this woman would have pulled? Probably would’ve been married with a new family photo on the mantle by the time I got back two years later. “Weren’t you talking about me interning at your company?” “You need the degree for that. Finish your Master’s.” “Why don’t you just pull some strings and get me in?” I said, shrugging. I knew he was planning on it anyway; making me wait was just another power play. “You…” His face darkened. Looked like he was about to explode again. I was dead tired and didn’t have the energy for another fight. “I’m not okay with you and that woman,” I said, turning to leave. “It’s not happening.” Walking out, I saw Heather posing for selfies in the living room, chatting loudly on the phone with some friend. Looked trashy and desperate. I threw a couple of sarcastic comments her way. She looked like she was about to cry. Felt good. Yawning, I headed back upstairs to crash. 【02】 I woke up to the sound of furniture scraping against the floor. A bad feeling crept over me. Rubbing my eyes, I saw her—Heather—acting like she owned the place, directing movers to haul stuff into a room down the hall. Chloe stood nearby, looking lost. My blood started boiling. What the hell did she think she was doing? “STOP!” I yelled. The movers froze. Heather and Chloe jumped, looking scared. Then I saw it clearly. They were moving her stuff into Mom’s room. Dad actually agreed to let them stay here? In Mom’s room? This was beyond messed up. Heather took a step back as I glared daggers at her. I stormed into the room. Mom’s things… her personal belongings… Heather had already started putting her own crap everywhere. Mom worked her ass off helping Dad build his business; she barely had time for herself later on. And this woman had taken the makeup, the designer bags, the jewelry Dad and I had given Mom over the years and arranged them on the vanity like they were hers now. “GET OUT!” I roared. My shouting obviously reached Dad. He came out, looking groggy from his nap. Seeing Dad gave Heather some courage. She practically draped herself over him, tears welling up. “Rick…” “Rick my ass! Look what your little girlfriend is doing!” I sneered, staring Dad down. He looked at the helpless movers, then at me. After a long pause, he finally spoke. “What? What’s all the fuss about? It’s just a room.” My vision went red. Just a room? Did he even remember this was where his dead wife lived? I’d spent the last year making sure nothing was touched, keeping it exactly as Mom left it. Even Maria wasn’t allowed in without permission. And now? He dismisses it all with a few words. He wasn’t just disrespecting Mom’s memory; he was spitting on everything I’d tried to preserve. Right. This selfish bastard only cared about himself. He never gave a damn what anyone else thought or felt. Fine. Whatever. I looked at Heather’s slightly smug expression and felt a cold calm wash over me. I smirked. While they stared, confused, I grabbed an armful of her clothes and shoes from the pile and stalked towards the master bathroom. I started stuffing them into the toilet bowl. “Stop! What are you doing?!” Heather shrieked. I wasn’t going to let Mom be disrespected like this. What wouldn’t flush, I’d smash. I grabbed a heavy glass paperweight off the vanity. They just watched me, frozen. “You’re crazy, Jake!” Dad yelled, his face a mask of disbelief. “You’re the crazy one! How long has Mom been gone? And you’re already moving your mistress into her room? Where’s your conscience? She was your wife!” Dad flinched, but his pride kicked in. “Is this necessary? Hurting the living over the dead? What’s past is past.” Past. Dead. Typical him. I threw a punch. He exploded. We started fighting, really going at it, neither of us backing down. He kicked me hard in the side, knocking the wind out of me. As I looked up, I saw Heather filming the whole thing on her phone. Rage surged through me. I scrambled up, snatched the phone out of her hand, and smashed it on the tile floor. It shattered into pieces. Heather screamed and burst into tears. Dad seemed to cool down a bit then. He pointed a shaking finger at me. “Get out. This house is in my name. I’ll do whatever I want.” I spat on the floor. “Fine by me.” Grabbing some clothes, I walked out the front door without looking back. I crashed at my buddy Ryan’s place that night. We drank way too much. I ended up crying, telling him everything. “Damn, man. That’s rough,” Ryan said, shaking his head. “Seriously,” I mumbled, feeling sorry for myself. “How much is this condo worth? Now that I think about it, I’ve been blowing money like crazy, haven’t even bought my own place yet.” The thought of moving out was tempting, but right now, I just didn’t want that woman to win, to get her hands on anything that should have been Mom’s. He lit a cigarette. “Honestly, man, I didn’t even finish college before my dad put me in charge of the company branch. Making decent money now. You going for a Master’s… that’s years you could be using.” He had a point. Starting a business takes time, trial and error. Ever since Mom died, Dad and I had been constantly at each other’s throats. I started thinking hard. Just then, my phone buzzed. A text from Dad. I opened it immediately. ‘Apologize to Heather…’ Apologize my ass. She’s like five years older than me, and he wants me to call her ‘Heather’? Like she’s some respected elder? Please. Whatever hope I had fizzled out. I tossed the phone aside. A minute later, it rang. Dad again. “Heather’s worried about you. She wants you to come home. Says she feels really bad about everything.” I saw red. “Bullshit! I met her once! Worried about me? Give me a break!” “Jake!” he yelled. “If you keep this up, I’m cutting off all your cards!” “Go ahead! See if I care!” I yelled back and hung up forcefully. 【03】 I spent the next day zoned out, playing video games at Ryan’s. Total zombie mode. That evening, I checked my accounts. Sure enough, every single card was declined. All I had left was maybe two hundred bucks in my wallet. My eyelid started twitching. “Hey Ryan, you think your company could, uh… find a spot for me? You know, pull some strings?” Ryan, looking sharp in his work suit, chuckled. “Just hiring you as a regular employee? Where’s the fun in that? Look, I’ve got this subsidiary, about to go public. We’re still negotiating the last twenty percent stake. How about I cut you in? You come on board as a manager?” It sounded amazing. Almost too good to be true. “Seed money is ten million.” Okay, reality check. That meant I needed to come up with at least two million myself. If I were still back in Edinburgh, I could just sell my car, maybe hit Dad up for the rest, and boom, two million. But I was stuck here, stateside. “We actually need someone with international experience, back from overseas,” Ryan continued. “You studied management, right? And you’re my boy.” I hesitated. “How soon do you need the investment money?” “ASAP. Everyone else’s capital is already in. If you can’t swing it soon, I’ll have to cover it, but… it messes up the structure we agreed on with the other partners. Ideally, within two weeks.” He’d laid it all out. Opportunities like this didn’t just fall into your lap every day. I clenched my jaw. “Okay. Give me some time.” I packed my stuff, ready to go home and get the money. If this deal worked out, I could finally tell Dad to shove it, ditch the grad school plans for good. More importantly, I could deal with my dear ‘stepmother.’ Maria opened the door when I got back. She was holding some kind of fancy health smoothie. Seeing me, she muttered, “About time you came back.” Her tone set off alarm bells. I didn’t even bother taking off my shoes, just bolted upstairs. Mom’s room was safe, thank God. But Heather had moved into the room right next to mine. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Was she doing it on purpose? But that wasn’t why I was back. I swallowed my anger. “Where’s Dad?” “In his study. Working,” Maria said. I saw Heather in the kitchen, ‘helping’ Maria with chores. Rolling my eyes, I muttered, “Fake.” I ignored the look on her face and went straight to the study. Pushing the door open, I saw Dad wearing reading glasses, sipping some kind of green health drink, and coughing. My anger instantly softened. I lowered my voice. “Dad, I’m home.” He glanced at me. The first words out of his mouth? “Did you apologize to Heather?” Heather, Heather, Heather. Was he completely under her spell? My face hardened. I changed the subject. “Dad, I’m going into business. With Ryan.” He slammed his hand on the desk. “You’re not going back to school? Why would you go begging for scraps from someone else when you have your own family’s company?” Begging? What the hell? I gritted my teeth. “You won’t let me run the company.” “I told you to finish your Master’s first!” We were at a standstill again. I laughed coldly. “You just want your precious Heather to pop out a perfect little son to replace me, right? You’ve wanted me gone for ages, haven’t you? That’s why you keep pushing me away?” Dad looked like he was struggling to breathe. “You… you damn…” And then, right in front of me, his eyes rolled back, and he just… collapsed. For a second, I froze, completely stunned. Did I push him too far? Did my words do that? “Maria! Maria! Call 911!” …….

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For eighteen years, I lived as the Ashford family’s son, the heir apparent. Then the real son came back. And he set his sights on me. I looked at Ethan Miller, fresh from some small town upstate. His clothes were simple, plain even, but his face? Anything but ordinary. Those cool, almond-shaped eyes were calm, intelligent. He managed to impress the usual crowd of trust-fund kids with just a few quiet words. Mr. and Mrs. Ashford – Dad and Mom, as I used to call them – praised him too. Said that even though he grew up poor, he still had that unmistakable Ashford grace. It was laughable, really. They had no idea their precious biological son snuck into my room every night. Like a stray dog you couldn’t shoo away. 1. My eighteenth birthday party. That’s when Ethan Miller showed up, stunning everyone. The resemblance to Mr. and Mrs. Ashford was uncanny. And to top it off, he’d scored number one in the country on his SATs, personally recruited by the dean of a top university. My parents took his hands. Their smiles were warm, satisfied in a way I’d never seen directed at me. “This is our son, the one who was lost to us,” Mrs. Ashford announced. “He didn’t have our guidance, but he’s turned out exceptionally well.” The pride in her voice was a stark contrast to the usual বিরক্ত annoyance I received. All eyes turned to me, standing on the staircase. Suddenly, I felt like a pathetic clown. I tried to hold my head high, telling myself it didn’t matter. Ethan didn’t look intimidated like I expected. Dressed simply, he carried himself with a quiet confidence. He looked up at me, offered a small smile, and congratulated me on turning eighteen. But today was his eighteenth birthday too. A birthday he’d spent the last eighteen years in obscurity because I, the imposter, had taken his place. I tried to force a smile, walk down to him, calmly state that I was the one who belonged, the one raised as their son. But even fate seemed to despise me. A nearby champagne tower chose that exact moment to crash down. Champagne drenched me, sticking my hair to my face, dripping stickily from my chin. Utterly humiliating. Ethan offered me a napkin, his hand steady, the overhead lights catching the angles of his face, making him seem almost radiant. I heard the whispers around me. “No wonder he always acted out, none of the Ashford class.” “Serves him right.” “Always knew something was off.” I looked at his clear eyes, then at the undisguised disgust on my parents’ faces. Shoving his hand away, I snarled, “Get lost! I don’t need your fake sympathy!” The crow had shown its ragged feathers. The swan, by contrast, looked even purer, more noble. Everything was ruined. My eighteenth birthday. 2. My spectacular meltdown became the talk of the party. Humiliated, I went out drinking. My best friend, Ryan, watched me with an amused smirk. “This isn’t like you, Alex,” he said. “So some kid from the sticks shows up? Even if he is the real Ashford heir, so what?” He had a point. The Ashfords had invested eighteen years in raising me. They didn’t love me, not really, but they wouldn’t waste that investment easily. Not until they were sure Ethan could bring them tangible benefits. They wouldn’t kick me out just yet. I downed my drink, the alcohol burning my throat, staining my lips red. Ryan watched me, his gaze lingering on my mouth for a fraction too long. Suddenly, a drunk guy stumbled towards me, grabbing my chin. “Well, look what we have here,” he slurred. “Pretty thing like you should have a drink with me.” His fingers moved towards my lips. I frowned, annoyed. “Get lost if you don’t want trouble.” He scoffed. “Do you know who I am? Don’t be stuck up. I tell you to drink, you drink.” I almost laughed. The moment my fake identity was exposed, every nobody thought they could take a shot at me, humiliate the fallen prince. I tilted my head, a small, dangerous smile playing on my lips. “Have a drink, you say?” Expressionless, I picked up his glass and moved to smash it over his head. But a hand intercepted mine. The glass shattered, shards embedding themselves in a forearm covered by a white shirt sleeve. Ethan. He calmly picked out the glass, dabbing at the blood with a napkin, his eyes catching the dim bar lights. “Mother asked me to bring you home,” he said, his voice even. Everyone stared. Amidst the bar’s usual chaos, he looked so clean-cut, almost vulnerable, like a rabbit thrown to wolves. The drunk guy, emboldened by alcohol and maybe Ethan’s looks, grabbed Ethan’s arm, then reached for me again. “How much to have both of you for the night?” Caught off guard, I stumbled forward, right towards the scattered shards of broken glass on the floor. My face— 3. Ethan grabbed my other arm, yanking me sideways. Instead of falling onto the glass, I landed on my knees. Directly in front of him. Just like at the party, he looked down at me calmly, making me feel like a fool all over again. I clenched my fists. Getting up, I undid the top two buttons of my shirt. “Hey, asshole,” I called to the drunk. He blinked at me blearily. “You want to pay for me, right? So, who’s better looking? Me or him?” Ethan frowned, probably finding the whole scene pathetic. But my pride was raw. I refused to be second best to him, not here, not anywhere. The drunk looked back and forth between us. I leaned closer to the drunk, lowering my voice, adding a smirk. “What’s wrong? Don’t I look good enough?” Ever since the truth came out, the rivals I grew up with loved using my looks as a weapon against me. “Even if you’re not an Ashford heir, Alex, you could always make a living standing on a street corner, hahaha!” Their sneering echoed in my mind. I wouldn’t back down. I grabbed the drunk’s tie, pulling him closer. Today, I needed to win this stupid comparison. Ryan grabbed my arm. “Alex, stop it! Your father will hear about this and be furious.” People were staring, their eyes drifting towards my open collar. Ethan stepped in front of me, blocking their view. “Come home with me.” His voice was cool, detached, like he was dealing with a child throwing a tantrum over a toy. I scoffed, suddenly losing interest. “Forget it. Let’s go.” I released the drunk’s tie, my face blank. “If I hear one word about tonight gets out,” I warned the onlookers, my voice low and cold, “remember I’m still an Ashford, for now. And I won’t let it go.” Ethan followed me silently out of the bar. The cool night air hit my exposed chest, making me shiver. His quiet voice came from behind me. “Button your shirt.” I ignored him, pulling the collar wider. I turned to retort, but hands shot out from behind, gripping my neck. Suddenly, his face was inches from mine, those cool eyes intense. He stared at the skin revealed by my open shirt, his gaze finally settling on my lips. A strange feeling fluttered in my chest. I pushed him away, eyeing him suspiciously. “What, are you into guys?” 4. Ethan didn’t answer. He just pulled me towards a nearby convenience store and bought antiseptic wipes and bandages. My mind was racing, annoyed with myself. Why had I acted so crazy back there? What was wrong with me tonight? I snapped back to reality. Ethan was kneeling in front of me. I stopped his hand. “What are you doing?” “Your knee,” he said calmly. “You scraped it on some glass.” I looked at him, then at the antiseptic. I’d assumed he bought it for his own arm. “You don’t actually like me, do you?” I asked again, suspicious. This guy was weird. I’d stolen his life, his fortune, yet here he was, patching up my knee, claiming Mrs. Ashford sent him – a woman who couldn’t care less if I lived or died. I brushed his hand away, lighting a cigarette, the smoke curling between us. “Look, whatever your game is, I don’t care about the Ashford money or status anymore. You don’t need to watch me or test me.” Ever since they brought me into this house at eight years old, I knew they only cared about value and profit. I never expected genuine affection. His face blurred behind the smoke. I felt a wave of exhaustion. “You’re good enough,” I told him tiredly. “But you better stay this good. Because the Ashfords will drop you just as easily if you stop being useful.” Ethan picked up a fresh wipe. “Are you tired?” he asked softly. I didn’t answer for a moment. Then, a quiet sound escaped me. “Yeah.” I wasn’t raised by them from the start. Before I turned eight, I lived with my grandma in her small house out in the country. The scent of lilacs filled the air. That was my last real memory of peace. And there was the little kid who always followed me around, calling me “Alex! Alex!” I rubbed my temples. Tonight had dredged up too many feelings. I felt this crazy longing for everything I’d lost. Just then, my phone rang. It was City General Hospital, miles away. The doctor’s voice was clinical. My grandma was dead. 5. I begged the Ashfords to go see her. Just to pay respects. Even just to see her remains. They were dressed impeccably, ready for some gala, dripping in expensive jewelry. Mr. Ashford’s parting words were ice cold. “She’s dead, so what? This party tonight is worth millions.” Beneath the polished surface, pure, chilling indifference. I mocked myself silently. I knew it was hopeless, why did I even ask? I got on the plane alone. Just like when I was eight, brought back to this cold house, my small, childish face reflected in the window. Still alone. Grandma was my only anchor. Now she was gone, there was no reason left for me to stay with the Ashfords. The seat next to me was suddenly occupied. Ethan. His forehead was beaded with sweat, his breathing slightly ragged, like he’d run to catch the flight. “Why are you on this flight?” I asked, startled. He looked out the window, then murmured, “It’s kind of like how I imagined it when I was a kid.” He’d just returned to the Ashfords. I couldn’t fathom why he’d follow me to see my grandma. “What are you talking about? Are you following me?” The plane started to move. I looked at Ethan’s perpetually calm face and felt a surge of irritation. “Are you deaf? You keep showing up out of nowhere, saying nothing.” If the Ashfords weren’t so calculating, I’d almost suspect he wasn’t their real son at all. He always seemed to have some hidden motive. I was about to press him further when the plane lurched violently. Turbulence. Severe turbulence. We were crashing. When I woke up, I was in a hospital bed. Ethan was in the same hospital. A nurse told me he was still in the ICU. If the Ashfords found out I’d dragged their precious son into this mess… I didn’t want to think about it. I walked over to the window overlooking his room. Another nurse stopped me. “You know him, right?” she asked, gesturing towards Ethan’s still form. I nodded. She pulled out a worn photograph. The boy in it looked strikingly like me, maybe five or six years younger. “We found this in his clothes. Looked like you. When they brought him in, covered in blood, he kept telling us to save you first.” I stared at the photo. It was me. Me, before I turned eight. How… how did he have a picture of me from my childhood? 6. The photo was clearly me as a little kid. But I didn’t remember ever having that picture taken. I didn’t even have photos with Grandma from back then. Where did Ethan get it? He definitely had a hidden agenda. Ethan and I spent months recovering in the hospital. Once we were well enough, we went back to Grandma’s little house. It looked just like I remembered. Our old neighbor, Mr. Henderson, was much older now. When he saw us walk into the yard, his eyes lit up with faint recognition. “Alex? Is that you?” His gaze was hazy, uncertain. Then he looked at Ethan behind me, hesitating. “And you… you’re…” Mr. Henderson’s son came out of the house then, interrupting him, saying his dad got confused easily these days. I smiled politely, shaking my head. But inside, the strange feeling grew stronger. I hadn’t changed that much since I was eight, but Mr. Henderson recognized me instantly. Yet he seemed unsure about Ethan. There was definitely something I didn’t know. I glanced sideways at Ethan. Was this guy really the Ashford heir? I went into Grandma’s room. Looking at the simple, dusty furniture, fragments of memory returned. I was sent here right after I was born. My parents – the Ashfords – even though they didn’t know I wasn’t theirs biologically back then, had still basically abandoned me for their ambition and money. Grandma was already old. Besides the checks they sent occasionally, she didn’t have much energy to look after me. I grew up wild, mostly alone. The first word I learned wasn’t ‘Mom’ or ‘Dad’ or even ‘Grandma’. It was ‘cat’. There was a white cat that always slept under a big tree nearby. I’d sit there, dirty and small, holding the cat, trying to make sounds. ‘Cat’ was the word I practiced for a year. Until I met him. He was even dirtier than me. When I first saw him, he was holding the white cat, a fierce look on his face. I thought he was going to hurt it, so I ran up and punched him. He immediately burst into tears. I stood there awkwardly. The other kids in the area avoided me. I didn’t know how to talk to kids my own age. What finally broke the ice was a piece of candy that fell out of my pocket. He was an orphan from nearby. His parents used to beat him. Then they died in an accident, leaving him alone. He drifted around, surviving somehow. He told me he didn’t know his name. I didn’t talk much either, so I just started calling him ‘Buddy’. He only ever called me ‘Alex’. For those eight years of my life, Buddy was more present than Grandma ever was. I wonder… is he still alive? 7. After visiting Grandma’s empty house, we returned to the Ashfords. They threw a huge party to formally introduce Ethan as their son. I watched him, now the center of attention, a faint smile on my lips. Ryan appeared beside me, his eyes scanning my face. “You can still smile? Alex, we grew up with these guys.” He gestured towards the crowd surrounding Ethan. “Now look at them, all kissing up to him.” I shrugged, genuinely indifferent. “So what? I don’t care about anything the Ashfords have.” Ryan paused. “Anything? What about… me?” I didn’t quite catch that. I leaned closer, asking him what he said, my cheek brushing against his lips. We both froze. Ryan’s eyes flickered with something unspoken. He seemed about to say more, but Ethan walked over, interrupting us. “Someone’s looking for you,” Ethan said to Ryan. Ryan walked away. I stared at the wine glass in Ethan’s hand, a knowing look in my eyes. “Having fun tonight?” I asked him lightly. He nodded curtly. “It’s fine.” Good. Because tonight was going to get interesting. After the party, I headed back to my room, but made a detour towards Ethan’s. He was the new golden boy now. The other rich kids were being polite to his face, but I knew they wouldn’t let an outsider steal their spotlight without a fight. As I approached his door, it swung open suddenly. A hand shot out and pulled me inside. 8. “Are you crazy? Let me go!” Ethan had dragged me into his room. Before I could even process what was happening, he’d tied my hands. He stood there, looking physically fine but strangely vacant, his eyes glazed over. “Did you hear me? Untie me!” He stumbled towards me, muttering, “So beautiful.” I frowned. “What’s beautiful?” His fingers, cool to the touch, traced my eyebrows, slid down past the corners of my eyes, lingered near my lips. “All of it. Beautiful.” Was he talking about… me? The idea was absurd. I shifted, trying to sit up, tilting my head. “You really are into guys, aren’t you?” He didn’t answer, just stared at me blankly. Okay, arguing with a drugged guy was pointless. I focused on trying to get free from the ropes. As I struggled, twisting my wrists, my shirt collar loosened. The knot was impossible. Frustration mounted. With a final, desperate tug, I lost my balance and tumbled off the bed. I looked up. Right into Ethan’s lap. My face was inches from his crotch.

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My husband tricked me into the middle of nowhere, planning to chop off my hands and feet and leave me to die. That’s when I found out my little brother was drowning in gambling debts. They were playing cards, laughing and joking: “Once Ashley and her loser brother are gone, her company’s mine! It’s worth tens of millions! Let’s play for high stakes tonight!” Their bets were about which of my limbs to hack off first. As the blade came down, I stopped him. “Let me play a hand with you. If I win, you let us go. If I lose, do whatever you want.” My husband smirked. “What are you going to use as collateral?” I sat up straighter. “My life.” My freshly-graduated brother was sobbing, groveling at my feet, his voice hoarse from crying. “Ash, no! You can’t do this! You’ll die! Please, don’t!” My brother, David, has always been a good kid, idolizing me and my husband, Kevin. Ever since I married Kevin, he’s been like a puppy dog following him around, saying he wanted to learn the business from him. After our parents died, he’s my only family, and trusting Kevin, I didn’t interfere much. A small successful project went to his head and now he was loaded and went to casinos and lost everything, every cent. I shook my head. “You think you have a future after this? They clearly want us dead. This is our only chance.” David looked like he’d seen a ghost, his tears stopping, his body shaking. My heart ached for him, but I kept my face blank. The money he lost, including his car and apartment, added up to over a million dollars. How could a kid fresh out of college be so reckless? Kevin had clearly set this up with his buddies. Kevin’s goal wasn’t just a million bucks, it was my company and my assets. This whole thing was an opportunity to teach this kid a lesson, that he can’t trust everyone. “Ashley, don’t play with them! You’ll die! I’ll… I’ll become a male escort to pay this off!” Hearing those words made my blood boil. That must’ve been Kevin’s idea too. Taking my money and my company, I could accept because I knew in my heart where my company’s foundations started. But they weren’t going to ruin my brother like this, force him to sell himself. It was an outrage. I helped David up, patted his hand, and signaled Kevin to start. David couldn’t stand straight, his eyes pleading. Ignoring him, I smiled. “It’s been a while since I’ve played. Maybe I’ll win.” Kevin smirked, gesturing to the table in the RV. We were in the middle of the desert, where the law doesn’t reach, exposing the worst of human nature. He wasn’t my husband anymore, just an enemy. Kevin’s brother, Mike, and his female assistant, Sarah, were sitting next to him, also in on this scheme. “Ashley, don’t say I didn’t warn you. We’re all pros at the table. You sure you can handle this?” Kevin’s brother, Mike, was a lowlife. Ever since Kevin married me and had money, he’s been partying and drinking. Because of their ages, my brother and him have hung out a lot, and I told him to stay away. But David, being naive, thought Mike was just a bit of a party animal. Now he’d been tricked into this game, risking his life. Kevin glared at my brother. “Kid, you better tell your sister not to play. I was going to let you live, but she’s dragging you to your death!” His usual charm was gone, revealing his true self. Kevin used to be my driver, but we grew close and fell in love, so I married him. Now it all made sense. He got close to me, tricked me, brought me to this remote area, never intending for us to leave alive. David stared at me, his eyes filled with panic. I sat down, smiling. “We’re all going to die anyway. Why shouldn’t I take a chance?” David tugged at my sleeve. “Ashley, just give them the money! We’ll at least live!” I slapped him across the face. “You think they’ll let you leave? You made this mess, you deal with it!” David covered his face, unable to speak. Kevin lit a cigarette, glancing at me with contempt. “Ashley, if you’re playing, what are you betting?” “Your brother already lost over a million and owes me another million. If he can’t pay, I’ll have to sell him as a male escort.” “Or you can transfer your company to me now, all your assets. Then I might consider letting you go.” He laughed cruelly. That must’ve been how he threatened David. Which led David to almost getting hit on the road, only to be saved by me and tricked into this trip. “I have something to bet.” I smiled calmly, grabbing David’s hand and slamming it on the table. “Name your price.” Then, I held up my phone. “I’m recording everything. If you try anything, this video goes straight to the cops.” Kevin glanced at it. “A pair of hands… worth ten grand.” David was terrified, speechless except for his crying. I felt awful, but I had to do this. He needed to learn. “Ashley, you’re cold. Fine. Let’s start.” 2 Kevin wanted to deal, but I stopped him. “My brother lost. I’m the dealer now.” Mike protested, but Kevin smiled slightly. “Okay.” As he said that, Kevin’s assistant nudged Mike, and they exchanged a look. I smiled, this must be their signal to cheat. Pretending not to notice, I dealt the cards, in order, like normal. The rules were a $10,000 ante, with a $500,000 single bet limit. Looking at my hand, as the dealer, I put in the $10,000. Next up was Mike, and he bet $500,000 without looking. Kevin matched the $500,000. “$500,000, unopened.” Then he looked at me with a taunting expression. Sarah giggled. According to the rules, if I looked at my cards, I’d have to double the bet to stay in. Which meant I’d have to put another million out there, but I didn’t have enough chips. I was left with one choice: fold and lose $20,000. They were obviously trying to swindle me, and I couldn’t do anything. Sarah nudged Mike again. “That’s a little rough. You can’t be bullying her for not having enough money?” Mike grinned. “Ashley, sorry. I forgot you were broke.” He said that, but his eyes were full of glee. “I’ll give you a break. Next hand, $100,000 limit.” He reached to take my chips. “Wait!” “I’m in. A million, unopened.” Kevin’s eyes widened. “Ashley! You’re writing an IOU? You don’t have the chips!” Mike chimed in sarcastically. “Ashley, if you don’t know how to play, quit faking it.” David sobbed, moving closer. “Ashley, we’re $800,000 short.” Without a word, I grabbed him and slammed him onto the table. “Kevin, how much is his life worth?” “Ashley!” David was losing hope, crying. Kevin glanced at my brother. “His organs, all together, maybe a million.” “Ashley, you’re trying to get your brother killed…” Mike couldn’t believe it. David screamed. “Ashley! I was wrong, I was wrong! Don’t gamble! I don’t want my organs taken out!” I kicked him away. “You should have thought about this when you were gambling!” “You told me not to gamble. Why did you gamble in the first place?!” I shouted and he began to cry. I felt awful, but I needed to stay cold. I had to make David realize how horrible gambling is. After signing the contract, I had a million. I put in $500,000. “Matching $500,000, unopened!” Kevin was stunned. “Ashley… are you serious?” I smirked. “You were going to chop off my limbs. I think I’m being pretty generous.” “Enough talk. Mike, your turn.” Mike looked at me and then Kevin, frowning. “I fold.” Since I dealt the cards, he wasn’t confident, so he didn’t bet. Kevin folded too. I won the first hand, taking a million dollars. Kevin snatched the cards, clearly furious. “I lost. My turn to deal.” “Fine.” His eyes, that use to show gentle love, were now full of malice and hatred, wanting to eat me alive. “Ashley, I didn’t realize you were such a hard-ass. How about we remove the limit, you down?” “Whatever.” That’s what I was waiting for! “Ashley! Don’t!” David fell to his knees. “Shut up! Your body parts are on loan. Get lost!” “Where was that enthusiasm when you were gambling?” Kevin and his buddies argued amongst themselves, worried I’d listen and not play. I slapped the table. “Get lost! You’re the one who caused this! If you say another word, I’ll tell them to take you apart!” David didn’t dare speak. Kevin dealt, putting a million dollars in. “A million, unopened. You in?” “Yeah.” I pretended to be tough, also putting a million in. Mike put a million in. I sighed with relief, they’ve all fallen for my trick!

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