Author: Momo Chan

Right before handing out the year-end bonuses, my boss pulled me aside and whispered: “Your bonus is still the highest in the department, but keep it quiet. We don’t want to affect team morale.” I believed him, feeling a sense of comfort. The amount wasn’t huge, but at least the boss recognized my hard work. My year of grinding hadn’t been in vain. But that night, I accidentally overheard my boss drunkenly confessing the truth: “Gullible, unconnected employees like Chloe are the easiest to manipulate. “Just feed her a few lies, and she’ll work harder than a mule.” A sudden clarity hit me. For the past three years, my bonus had actually been the lowest. 1 Right before the year-end bonuses were distributed, my boss, Mr. Vance, suddenly called me into his office. After making sure the door was closed tight, he lowered his voice: “Chloe, I need you to mentally prepare yourself for something. “You know the market is tough right now, clients aren’t paying on time, and the company’s cash flow is tight… I’m afraid the year-end bonuses this year will just be a token gesture.” He looked deeply pained as he said this, his eyes even looking a little red. My heart sank with his words. At the beginning of the year, to motivate everyone, the boss promised extra bonuses based on the projects we completed. I worked myself to the bone, exceeding my quota by completing over a dozen projects—literally double the output of anyone else in the department. Even calculating with the lowest bonus percentage, I should have received tens of thousands of dollars. But now… any expectations I had for my bonus vanished completely. Mr. Vance finished sighing, then suddenly gave me a conspiratorial smile: “But as the boss, I see how hard a core employee like you has worked this year. “Don’t worry, just like the past two years, your bonus is still the highest in your department. “But please, keep this an absolute secret. I don’t want to affect team morale.” Hearing this brought me some comfort. Even if it wasn’t a lot of money, the boss was fair. My year of working day and night hadn’t been completely wasted. The industry was suffering, the company couldn’t afford to pay out, and no one could do anything about it. When I first graduated and struggled to find a job, I accidentally stumbled into this company. From a clueless rookie to a competent lead designer, Mr. Vance had indeed given me many opportunities. When benefits were severely slashed, I thought about quitting, but my loyalty to the company kept me here. Seeing him so distressed, I even offered some kind words of comfort: “Mr. Vance, don’t be too sad. We’ll all work harder next year, and we’ll definitely make a lot of money.” Mr. Vance looked slightly awkward for a moment, but quickly put on a touched expression: “Chloe, with employees like you looking out for the big picture, how could Elegance Interiors not succeed and grow?! “Next year, we’ll all roll up our sleeves and work hard! When the company’s cash flow improves, you’ll be the first one I compensate!” I offered a bitter smile and nodded. Just as I was about to leave, Mr. Vance stopped me again. “Actually, there’s an opportunity right in front of us. “Right after the holidays, there’s an urgent, high-priority project. Mr. Price needs his manor renovated. Over a dozen competitors are eyeing this massive opportunity. The contract is worth five million dollars! “Look… since you’re getting the highest bonus, taking on this tough project for the company shouldn’t be a problem, right?” 2 To be honest, the moment I heard “after the holidays,” “urgent,” and “high-priority,” my head started ringing. My family lived out of state. Factoring in travel time, I could only spend four or five days at home for the Lunar New Year. If I had to work overtime on a project, I’d only get one or two days of rest. My holiday would basically be ruined. I was just about to decline when Mr. Vance cut me off: “Chloe, I’ve always favored you when it comes to bonuses! At a critical moment like this, you have to step up for the company! “Mr. Price was very satisfied with the model home design you did for his real estate development last time. That’s the only reason he’s giving our company a chance. “Besides, the timeline is too tight. I really don’t feel comfortable handing this to anyone else!” I let out a long sigh. With him putting it like that, I had no choice but to bite the bullet and agree. The design market is so distorted these days. Deadlines are always immediately after holidays. And these are projects where no contract has been signed, yet the boss still bends over backwards, demanding multiple design proposals for the client to choose from. Designers have long been numb to it. Seeing me nod, Mr. Vance beamed: “Great! Then on the eighth day of the New Year, the day we get back to work, you bring five different design proposals. I’ll go with you to present them to Mr. Price, and we’ll fight to win this massive project! “Don’t worry, if we land this, I’ll personally give you a hundred-thousand-dollar bonus at the end of the year!” I forced a smile, not daring to hold out much hope for the bonus. In this economy, just getting my regular salary on time was enough to satisfy me. Before I closed the door to leave, he reminded me one last time. “Remember, absolutely keep the bonus a secret!” 3 With complicated feelings, I walked back to my desk in silence. Colleagues around me were chatting in small groups about the year-end bonuses, but I had zero interest in joining them. Not long after I spaced out at my desk, the continuous sound of text message notifications echoed across the entire office floor. “Holy shit, the bonuses are deposited!” Someone shouted. Startled, I remembered my boss’s warning. I discreetly lowered my phone under my desk and carefully opened the message. With just one glance, the glaring number “$2,000” burned into my retinas. My vision went dark. This was completely absurd! I counted the zeros several times to confirm the amount. The sliver of hope I had been holding onto completely died. So the boss’s “token gesture” really was just two thousand dollars! Last year, I got at least eight thousand. This year, it was only a quarter of that. What was most laughable was that my meager amount was actually the highest in the department? At that moment, I even worried that my colleagues might storm the boss’s office in protest. But when I scanned the room… I found that the other colleagues in the department were surprisingly calm, packing up to leave for the day. “Sigh, less and less every year. Be content; it’s better than getting nothing.” “Yeah, the market is bad. We all have to weather the storm together.” “Are you still not satisfied? The economy out there is trash. It’s a blessing to get paid at all. Go ask around, how many companies just handed out a bag of rice for the holidays?” 4 That last comment came from my colleague, Mia. She was the boss’s niece, an art major who had just graduated and joined our design department six months ago. The other colleagues usually sucked up to her, and no one cared when she made passive-aggressive comments. A few who were close to her even went over to chat. “Now that we’ve got our bonuses, I’m going all out this weekend. That new trendy seafood buffet is really good, only $600 a person. Who wants to go?” “I’m finally going to bite the bullet and buy that mink coat I’ve been eyeing for my New Year’s outfit.” “Mia, what are you buying with your bonus?” Mia lifted her chin, adjusted her Gucci bag, and replied lazily: “Whether it’s a little or a lot, it’s the company’s gesture. Anyway, I’m going to the Maldives for a vacation… If it’s not enough, I’ll just ask my family to chip in.” Everyone praised her wealthy family background and marveled that a rich heiress would actually deign to work. Hearing their conversation, I silently clicked my tongue. With the tiny amount we received, it wouldn’t even cover the cost of a decent coat at the mall… Girls from big cities with wealthy families really know how to spend money. For some reason, Mia, surrounded by her sycophants, suddenly looked at me. “Chloe, you got your bonus, why aren’t you happy? “I just saw you come out of the boss’s office. What secret were you discussing with the door closed, afraid we’d hear?” As soon as Mia spoke, the others chimed in: “Yeah, Chloe works so hard, the boss must have given you a huge bonus, right?” “Chloe became a lead designer at such a young age. She’s the backbone of the company. It’s perfectly normal if she got more than us.” “Exactly. Chloe is a famous workaholic. Our department’s ‘A’ rating this year was practically carried by her alone. So many big clients requested her by name.” Faced with their teasing, I had to reply, just offering a smile: “It wasn’t just my effort; it was everyone’s hard work. “Everyone knows how hard it is to collect payments right now. My bonus is probably the same as everyone else’s.” Truthfully, given the base amount was so low, I genuinely thought everyone got roughly the same. I didn’t know what the boss was thinking, worrying that I wouldn’t keep it a secret. To be frank, I’d be too embarrassed to even say the amount out loud. While we were talking, I wasn’t paying attention, and Mia had quietly slipped behind me. Before I could react, she suddenly snatched my phone right out of my hand: “Chloe, your bonus is definitely bigger than ours, right? Let me see how much it is!” 5 The others also gathered around curiously, all wanting a look at my phone. I reacted immediately, trying to grab my phone back. But I was blocked by the crowd and couldn’t reach it. Mia scrolled through my phone for a moment, then handed it back to me, looking disappointed. “Tch, you actually deleted the text notification. You’re way too cautious, Chloe. How boring.” I was so angry I almost hit her. I snatched my phone back and glared at her coldly: “Is snatching someone else’s phone fun? Don’t go too far.” Seeing I was angry, Mia softened her tone and reached out to grab my arm. “Okay, okay, Chloe, I’m sorry. It was just a joke, you’re not actually going to hold a grudge, are you?” The others also tried to smooth things over. I wasn’t in the mood to argue. I gave a perfunctory response, grabbed my bag, and stormed out. The boss had arranged a company dinner tonight at a restaurant owned by one of his relatives. I couldn’t muster any enthusiasm all night; my mind was entirely focused on that pathetic bonus. Perhaps noticing my sour expression, when Mr. Vance came to toast our table, he specifically patted my shoulder: “Sigh, it’s been tough for you all this year. “Even though it’s not a lot of money, your old pal Vance really tried his best. Suppliers were literally at my door demanding payment, and I had to grit my teeth and hold off paying them just for you.” My colleagues raised their glasses and offered polite pleasantries; I didn’t say much. As the dinner drew to a close, I left with the main group. Mr. Vance, however, hadn’t had enough. Acting like a typical drunk, he pulled a few of his closest cronies back into the room to keep drinking. When I got outside, I realized I had forgotten my scarf and went back to the restaurant to get it. Just as I reached the door of the large private room, I heard a piercing, girlish laugh coming from inside. “Uncle, why is my bonus only a hundred thousand dollars? You’re too cheap. I heard the company just collected two million dollars yesterday.” 6 Mia’s words froze me in my tracks. Before I could even process it, the clearly intoxicated voice of Mr. Vance drifted out. “Mia, you’re still not satisfied? You already got the most out of everyone in the design department. “Just look at… those employees with more seniority than you, they only got ten or twenty thousand. “And that Chloe… Look at how many projects she completed this year… How much did she get? You know perfectly well.” Mia laughed happily: “You’re terrible, Uncle. She is a lead designer, after all, and you dismissed her with a measly two thousand dollars… “She got the lowest amount in the entire company, aren’t you afraid she’ll find out and quit?” Mr. Vance scoffed: “This is what you don’t understand. This is called… the art of management. You give people the treatment they deserve. “Gullible, unconnected employees like Chloe are the easiest to manipulate. “Just feed her a few lies, and she’ll work harder than a mule.” Hearing this, my mind went almost entirely blank. “Don’t worry, she won’t quit, and she can’t quit, hahaha.” The laughter from the few people inside grew louder. Standing outside the door, I was so angry I felt like I was plunged into an ice bath, trembling uncontrollably. So all these years, the boss had been lying to me. I was the clown who always got the lowest bonus. 7 I had been with the company for five years. The first two years, I was a rookie, so getting paid less made sense. From the third year on, I was leading projects on my own and helped the company survive a major crisis. Without any false modesty, I contributed the most to the entire design department. But in the end, my bonus was the lowest! And I foolishly believed the boss appreciated me, burying myself in work and giving my all. Those colleagues who were always late, leaving early, and slacking off got more than me; The seasoned veterans who shirked responsibility and threw others under the bus got more than me; Even the new hire who spent her days reading novels and watching dramas at work, and had only been here for six months, got more than me! I wanted to storm in right then and there and demand an explanation from Mr. Vance. What gave the company the right to treat me this way? Do honest, hard-working people deserve to be bullied? But a second before I pushed the door open, a thought struck me. Knowing him, even if we had a falling out, he definitely wouldn’t admit it, and even if he did, he absolutely wouldn’t compensate me. I wanted to make sure he faced severe retribution! With a plan in mind, I quietly left the restaurant without alerting anyone. Early the next morning, just as I boarded the high-speed train to go home, I received a call from Mr. Vance. “Chloe, I had Mia send you the villa details and design requirements for Mr. Price’s project. Make sure you check them as soon as you get home. “Don’t forget, the deadline for the designs is the eighth day of the New Year. “If we don’t land this contract, the company will probably face an even tougher year next year. You absolutely cannot betray my trust!” Without a moment’s hesitation, I cheerfully agreed: “Don’t worry, Mr. Vance. I will definitely have five design proposals ready by the eighth. I guarantee we’ll secure Mr. Price.” Mr. Vance laughed happily on the other end of the line. I was very happy, too. Smart boss, just wait for this ‘gullible employee’ to give you a massive surprise on the eighth. 8 I went home for the holidays completely broke. My parents didn’t say anything and were still incredibly happy to see me. They were honest, hardworking people all their lives, only worrying that I was too exhausted working out of state. They often advised me to listen to my leaders at work and perform well. Every time they said this, I agreed out loud, but my hatred for Mr. Vance only grew deeper. Fortunately, my plan was progressing step by step. Right after New Year’s Eve, early on New Year’s Day, Mr. Vance sent me a message. Reminding me not to forget the overtime project. I replied instantly, telling him I had already started drafting the proposals and was overflowing with inspiration. He was very satisfied and replied with a thumbs-up emoji. On the second, third… for several days in a row, he messaged me daily to check on my progress, like clocking in. Every time, I was incredibly cooperative, telling him to put his mind at ease and just enjoy his holiday. Mr. Vance had no suspicions. After all, he knew me too well after all these years. As long as I promised to take on a job, I would never drop the ball. I would finish it even if I were in the hospital hooked up to an IV. But I guess this project was just too important. On the fifth day, he actually called me via video chat to confirm my progress. I complained, sounding a bit wronged: “Mr. Vance, why don’t you trust me? I told you I’m working overtime drafting the proposals. Please, just relax.” Mr. Vance laughed awkwardly: “Of course I trust your work. I just wanted to see how the progress is going. “You should have three or four of the five proposals done by now, right? Let me take a quick look, and I can give you some advice.” I sneered internally and pointed the camera directly at my computer screen. I gave him a quick, blurry glance. The screen was indeed filled with stacks of folders and design blueprints. Before he could see clearly, I turned the camera away. Mr. Vance beamed brilliantly: “See? I told you I have complete faith in your skills. “So many designs in just a few days! I’ll be waiting for your masterpiece on the eighth. Elegance Interiors is going to shine in front of Mr. Price again!” “Absolutely, absolutely,” I said with a smile and hung up. The proposals were indeed being worked on, but I created two versions.

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My childhood best friend and I accidentally drank spiked drinks at a banquet. When I woke up, I stared blankly at the messy bedsheets. My hands were shaking so badly I couldn’t clasp my bra. He fastened it for me, his tone pleading: “Please don’t tell my girlfriend, okay? There was something wrong with the drinks. What happened between us was just an accident.” His girlfriend… is my best friend. 1 My best friend, Mia, a wealthy heiress, is celebrating her birthday today. She specifically told me to bring my childhood friend, Liam, along. “With the dreamy crystal chandeliers and the pink balloon bubbles at the party, the atmosphere will be perfect. Why don’t you confess your feelings to him again?” Everyone knows I confessed to Liam once. Mia, who has only known him for two weeks, knows it too. I lowered my eyes, quietly stirring the latte art in my coffee cup with a spoon. “Better not. He told me never to confess to him again, or we wouldn’t even be friends.” Even though that’s what I said out loud, another voice was clearly ringing in my head—Confess to him again. That evening, Liam drove to pick me up for the party. Sitting in his flashy red Maserati, he let out a low whistle. “Wow, Chloe, you look so beautiful today. If people didn’t know better, they’d think you were the birthday girl.” Wearing a cocktail dress, I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “Do I really look good today?” “Yeah.” Receiving Liam’s affirmative answer filled me with joy. Liam stepped out of the car and opened the passenger door. One hand rested on my shoulder, while the other hovered protectively over my head. I was a bit surprised. Whenever I rode in his car before, he never got out to open the door for me. Let alone make any extra, protective gestures. Sitting in the passenger seat, I kept stealing glances at him while he drove. Sensing my gaze, he seemed a bit distracted himself. He even took a wrong turn. When we finally arrived at the party, the birthday girl, Mia, spotted us the moment we walked through the door. “Chloe, Liam, you’re finally here!” She skipped over to us. I had been holding onto Liam’s arm. But he suddenly pulled his arm away. My hand hung awkwardly in the air. For a second, I almost thought he pulled away specifically because Mia came over. But the very next second, he took my hand again and led me into the party. 2 Before the party officially started, a few close friends gathered to play a card-drawing game. The cards were all filled with questions and games related to love and relationships. Exactly what was weighing heavily on my mind. When it was Liam’s turn, the card he drew read: “Is the person you like present right now?” My fingertips trembled, and I held my breath waiting for his answer. If he said “yes,” I was going to muster a lifetime’s worth of courage and confess to him again tonight. “Yes.” His tone was very light. But the moment that magnetic voice reached my ears, it was as if the lock holding Pandora’s box shut clicked open. He said his type was here. He complimented my looks when he picked me up. He held my hand when we walked in. My palms started sweating, and I gripped the fabric of my dress tightly. Mia gently nudged my arm. I shot her a “stop messing around” look. When it was my turn, the card I drew read: [How long did your longest relationship last?] “I’ve never been in a relationship.” I smiled bitterly, a sharp pain in my chest. “But I’ve loved someone for seven years… no, even longer.” Sitting across from me, Liam looked up and stared at me intently. Everyone knows that my first—and only—confession to Liam was seven years ago. The people around us fell silent, their eyes darting back and forth between Liam and me. Someone bold enough couldn’t resist chiming in, “Is this person here right now?” A question to which they already knew the answer. I closed my eyes. When I opened them again, my gaze collided straight with Liam’s. “He’s here.” This was practically a complete confession. I had always listened to Liam. Back then, when he rejected me, he added, “If you ever confess again, we won’t even be friends.” I obeyed for seven years. I never breathed a word about my feelings. But I didn’t expect him to constantly bring it up as a joke. Maybe it was just his way of stopping me from confessing again. But I love him. So, through this winding, indirect method, I laid my heart bare to him once more. 3 A new round of drawing cards began. The card Liam drew read: [Pick a girl, give her a princess carry, and walk a lap around the room.] My heart pounded like a drum. The next second, Liam stood up and walked straight toward me. Fireworks exploded in my heart; I was thrilled. He’s coming toward me. He’s coming toward me. By the time I silently repeated that twice, Liam was only two steps away. I looked up, studying his sharp, defined features. I wanted to lean close to his ear and solemnly tell him again, “I love you.” That way, everything that just happened wouldn’t seem so frivolous. Liam’s figure was right in front of me. Having sat nervously for so long, my body was stiff, and my feet stood up on their own accord. And in that moment— Liam brushed right past me. And stopped in front of Mia, who was standing beside me. I stood there helplessly, feeling as if a bucket of ice water had been poured over my head. The silent gazes of the people around me were practically screaming about how pathetic my wishful thinking was just a moment ago. “I wonder if I have the honor of carrying our lovely birthday girl today?” I turned sideways, staring at Liam in disbelief. But his eyes weren’t on me at all. Mia looked hesitantly at me, standing right next to her. I forced an awkward smile. “I need to use the restroom.” Muttering a random excuse, I hurried out of the room. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Liam already bending down, scooping Mia up into his arms. I hid in a bathroom stall. I leaned my head against the wall and covered my eyes with my hands. It’s fine. It’s just another failed confession. It can’t possibly be worse than seven years ago. Good thing I didn’t say it out loud this time. When I finally snapped out of it, my palms were wet with tears. My phone suddenly buzzed with a message from Liam. [The party is about to start. Mia’s looking for you. Where did you go?] I wiped my cheeks and walked out of the stall. The reflection in the mirror had lost all its vibrant color, looking like a completely different person from the one who had carefully applied makeup that afternoon. The tears had ruined my eye makeup. I just used a tissue with warm water to wipe away all the eyeshadow and false lashes. Then I faced the mirror, forced a somewhat lively smile, and finally dared to open the door and go back out to celebrate my best friend’s birthday. 4 In the dazzling hall, a massive, multi-tiered cake stood right in the center. People were crowded around it, three layers deep. “They’re so perfect for each other. A match made in heaven.” “When he confessed just now, I think I was more excited than she was.” The people around me were clicking their tongues, marveling at the perfect couple. A sense of unease washed over me. Following their gaze, I saw Mia and Liam. Liam was holding Mia’s hand, cutting the cake layer by layer. “Confess? Who confessed?” I grabbed a stranger next to me, asking frantically. “The main couple tonight, obviously. Hey, who are you? Let go of me.” The person pushed me away in disgust. The crowd started chanting, “Kiss! Kiss!” Liam wrapped his arm around Mia’s shoulders, cradled the back of her head, and kissed her passionately. My mind went completely blank. Even though it was incredibly noisy around me. It felt like I was trapped in a vacuum, suffocating any chance I had to scream. Standing in the middle of the crowd, I stared blankly at the two people under the spotlight. Tears fell unconsciously down my freshly wiped cheeks. “Ah, Chloe’s finally here!” Mia, the center of attention, called out in surprise when she saw me. She walked toward me with a bright smile. Liam followed right behind her. “If it weren’t for Chloe, I never would have met Liam! You’re our Cupid.” She handed me the biggest piece of cake. “What Cupid? What are you talking about?” I didn’t believe it. I didn’t believe a single word that stranger or Mia said. “Chloe.” Liam suddenly spoke up. “I just confessed to Mia, and she said yes.” … A long, agonizing silence. “Liam… stop joking.” “After you introduced us, I’ve been pursuing Mia for two weeks.” Liam’s voice even trembled slightly with excitement. “She just accepted.” Tears, tasting faintly of blood, slid down my throat. A bitter, salty taste. “So for these past two weeks, when the three of us hung out… was I just the monkey you were both playing with?” I heard my own voice, harsh and strained. “We didn’t mean to hide it from you, we just didn’t know how to tell you…” “Listening to me share my feelings about liking Liam, and then sneaking around behind my back… treating me like a clown—is that fun for you?” I said, staring right at Mia. “Chloe, I…” Two weeks… I was played for a fool for two weeks by the two people I trusted most. So the arrow shot by Cupid… Only ended up making me bleed. 5 A group of friends we knew gathered around. They all knew I had confessed to Liam. Liam had told them himself. A few of them spoke up to break the awkward silence. “Chloe, today is Mia’s birthday, don’t make a scene.” “Liam rejected you seven years ago. You can’t expect him to never date anyone.” “Why don’t you give me a try? I’m single too.” The group chimed in one after another, their words cornering me. These people sucked up to the Sterling family’s power. Even their previous politeness toward me was entirely because of Liam. And there were definitely a few who were just waiting to watch the drama unfold. As long as we started fighting, everyone would think I was just a jealous, bitter woman who couldn’t handle rejection. I let out a self-deprecating laugh. I snatched a wine glass from someone next to me. The crowd gasped, thinking I was going to throw the wine or start pulling hair. Liam rushed forward and grabbed the glass from my hand. “What are you doing?” he demanded, his tone hostile. The wine in the glass spilled onto my dress in the struggle. I don’t know how I found my voice. But I managed to compose myself and speak. “Congratulations.” I took the glass back, downed the remaining dregs in one gulp, and tilted the empty glass toward him. “Wishing you a lifetime of happiness.” I turned around. And walked out of the hall. Leaving the glass by the door. From beginning to end, I never looked back inside once. I didn’t want this filthy friendship and relationship anymore. But then again, they were never mine to begin with. 6 I blocked Liam and Mia on everything. I stayed home and slept for days. Then I suddenly received an invitation from the Sterling Corporation. I had almost forgotten about this. My grandfather intended to gradually hand over the company’s management to me, and I was the one assigned to negotiate our bid for the Sterling Corporation’s new project. Which meant I had to see Liam again. After the Sterling Corporation’s bidding conference, my family’s company, Terry Machinery, successfully won the bid. While signing the letter of intent, Liam’s eyes kept lingering on me. As soon as I signed, I wanted to leave immediately. Liam held out his hand: “Congratulations on winning the bid.” I pressed my lips together, hesitated for a moment, but still reached out my hand. But the moment my hand touched his, I instinctively dropped it and turned to walk out the door. Liam blocked my path: “Are we just throwing away years of friendship like this?” “If there are no issues with the bidding proposal, I don’t think we have anything else to discuss.” I turned to leave again. “There are some issues.” Liam reached out to block my exit. “Stay for the business dinner after this; it’s the perfect time to go over the details of the contract.” “Can’t I go over the details with your secretary?” “Some things need to be made clear today.” This project was crucial, and there was no room for error. I had no choice but to stay and wait for Liam to finish his subsequent meetings. His secretary led me to the banquet hall downstairs. Mia and I saw each other almost simultaneously. I looked away, walked over to a sofa on the side, sat down, and turned my back. But Mia walked over to me, smiling brightly. “Chloe, about me and Liam… are you still mad?” “I should have smashed your birthday party that day, to save you from asking such delusional questions.” I lifted my eyelids and gave her a cold look. Mia’s expression shifted several times before she finally looked at me with a wronged expression. “Chloe, I apologize.” Mia picked up a glass of wine, downed it in one gulp, and handed another glass to me. “But there will be many opportunities for collaboration between the Vance family and the Sterling Corporation in the future. There’s no need to make things so hostile, right?” “Business collaboration” was the polite way of putting it. The ugly truth was that a single project thrown our way by the Sterling Corporation was enough to cover the Vance family’s revenue for half a year. I knew this perfectly well. “Are you threatening me?” I forced a tight, insincere smile, took the glass from Mia’s hand, and drank it. “What are you talking about? A glass of wine washes away all grudges,” Mia smiled, tapped her glass against my empty one, and was then called away by another group of people. 7 Back when Liam and I were close, I didn’t think much about the business implications. Now, it was time to carefully calculate them. But the more I thought about it, the tighter my chest felt. A waiter walked by, and I intercepted a glass of wine from his tray and placed it in front of me. Glass after glass, I forcefully drank until only one glass remained on the tray. I drank the last glass too fast, choking until the corners of my eyes turned red. Suddenly, a hand reached out from behind me and took my glass away. I turned around. It was Liam. “You’ve had too much.” “None of your business. Give it back.” I unsteadily held onto the sofa, trying to snatch the glass back from him. Liam dodged me and downed the remaining wine in the glass himself. Standing up too fast caused the alcohol to hit my brain, and my consciousness began to blur. Liam supported me. I instinctively felt annoyed and tried to shake off his hand. The commotion drew the attention of Mia and a group of people. “Should I find someone to take her home?” Mia offered. “No.” Liam pondered for a moment. “There are executive suites upstairs. I’ll just take her up to rest. We still have contract details to discuss.” Except, after Liam took me up to the room, he never came back down. Because the wine was tainted. It was spiked. My complete memory ends at the banquet hall. After that, I only remember fragmented, shattered pieces. When I woke up again, I looked at myself in the mirror. My body was covered in mottled red marks. Liam’s lean, muscular back bore several bright red scratches. There was skin under my fingernails. I looked at Liam, utterly lost. “How… how could we?” He fastened the clasp of my bra for me, bringing his hands together in a pleading gesture. “Please don’t tell Mia, okay? The wine we drank had something in it. What happened between us was an accident.” I stared at Liam blankly. Broken phrases floated vaguely in front of my eyes. But I distinctly remembered what he said when he pinned me to the bed: “When we were doing it… didn’t you say you broke up with her?” “I only said that so you wouldn’t feel guilty,” Liam scoffed, jumping off the bed. “I couldn’t just let you find some random guy to handle it. I should have recorded you, so you could see how incredibly wild you were acting.”

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My little sister’s middle school hosted a charity flea market. She spent five bucks on an old love letter and presented it to me like a priceless treasure: “Look, Summer! The person this is addressed to has the exact same name as you!” I stared at the letter, dated eight years ago, and fell into deep thought. The signature at the bottom read: Ethan Sterling. Wait. Wasn’t that my aloof, ice-cold high school lab partner? The guy who was now my aloof, ice-cold boss? Before I could ask any questions, a call came through to my sister’s smartwatch. A little boy on the other end was crying his lungs out: “My uncle is going to kill me! I’ll give you a hundred bucks—just please give that love letter back!” 1 Because of a mistake made by one of our interns, our entire team was getting chewed out. As the team director, I took the brunt of the yelling. By the time I walked out of the CEO’s office with my head hanging low, the intern was on the verge of tears. “Summer, I’m so sorry. I dragged you down with me.” I looked at the dark circles under her eyes. The workload had been brutal lately, and our whole team had been working overtime. She hadn’t been slacking off. I waved my hand dismissively. “It’s fine. I’m used to getting yelled at. It doesn’t even hurt anymore…” “Is that so?” A deep, low voice echoed behind me. The intern flinched like she’d been struck by lightning. My body went rigid. I looked up to see Ethan Sterling pushing his office door open, his brows furrowed as he stared at me. Ugh… that icy, deadpan face. Just looking at it makes me mad. I forced a stiff smile. “…No.” Ethan stared at me intently for a few seconds, then closed his office door. Later, when I stepped out to the pantry for water, I overheard a few interns whispering. “The boss is so mean to Director Hastings.” “Her heart must be made of steel. If it were me, I would’ve quit by now.” “I heard Director Hastings and the boss actually went to high school together.” “No way! And he still rips into an old classmate without an ounce of mercy? He’s a monster.” I shrugged my shoulders. They weren’t wrong. Ethan Sterling was a monster. And we weren’t just regular high school classmates; we sat right next to each other as lab partners for three whole years! Yet, he still gave me absolutely zero preferential treatment. I was about to walk away when the topic of their conversation suddenly shifted. “By the way, I heard the boss is engaged.” “Yeah, a little while ago, I saw his fiancée drop him off at the office!” “What? Our ice-cold CEO actually has a fiancée?” My footsteps faltered, and my fingers unconsciously tightened around my mug. Looking down the hallway toward the CEO’s office, I suddenly felt a stifling, heavy feeling in my chest. 2 After a month of grueling overtime, our project finally hit a major milestone. The company gave us five days off. The interns were so excited they practically cried. I politely declined their invitation to go out for drinks, went home to pack a bag, and drove straight back to my hometown. I hadn’t been back in six months. Thankfully, it was only a four-hour drive from the city where I worked. It was late at night by the time I arrived. My sudden appearance startled my mom, but she happily rushed off to make my bed while my dad hummed a tune and went to the kitchen to whip up a late-night snack. After dropping my bags, I quietly pushed open the door to a small bedroom. By the ambient light from the living room, I could see a little girl buried under the blankets, sleeping peacefully. Lily was the product of my parents’ “happy accident” when I was already in high school. Having a baby sister so suddenly took some getting used to at first. But as Lily grew up, she became impossibly cute, perfectly inheriting my mom’s patience and my dad’s intellect. She was incredibly clingy with me, always thinking of me first whenever she got her hands on something good. Early the next morning, I was roused by some rustling. I sleepily opened my eyes to see Lily resting her chin on the edge of my bed. Her bright eyes blinked at me. “Summer! You’re back!” “Yeah,” I mumbled, closing my eyes again. “Be a good girl, your big sister needs to sleep a little longer.” “Okay! I’m going to school now, but I’ll bring you a present when I get back!” I hummed an acknowledgment. When Lily tiptoed out, she even carefully pulled the door shut behind her. What a sweet kid. She must have saved up quite a bit of allowance to be buying me presents. I was actually a little excited. It was almost 11 AM when I finally got out of bed. My dad had just picked Lily up from school. My parents told me to watch her for a bit while they ran to the grocery store. As soon as they left, Lily eagerly pulled something out of her backpack and shuffled over to me like she had a massive secret. “Summer, guess what I got you!” How was I supposed to guess that? Before I could even throw out a random answer, she couldn’t hold it in anymore and shoved an envelope right into my face. “Look, Summer! Your name is on it!” I froze for a second and took the letter. The paper was slightly yellowed; it looked like it was from several years ago. The front of the envelope read: To Summer. What were the odds of sharing the same name? Lily babbled on: “Our school had a charity flea market today. We brought old stuff from home that we didn’t need, and students could buy whatever they wanted. The money goes to underfunded schools. “My desk partner brought a ton of stuff—old books, stationery… I found this letter tucked inside a book, so I bought it for five dollars.” Lily looked at me, desperate for praise. “Do you like it?” 3 My very first thought was: It’s just a coincidence. Growing up, I was never considered pretty in my class. I wore thick, heavy glasses and had a quiet, introverted personality. Whenever people talked to me, I never knew how to respond. So, naturally, no boy had ever given me a love letter. Holding the envelope, I felt a bit awkward. But Lily was urging me: “Open it! Hurry!” “I don’t think that’s a good idea…” After all, it belonged to someone else. And it was a love letter—something incredibly private. “But I spent a whole week’s allowance on this!” Kids are impatient. She snatched the letter from my hands and ripped it open in three seconds flat. Then she shoved the paper back at me. “Read it to me!” “My classmate said he took this from his uncle’s treasure box. He said everything in there is super valuable, so this must be too!” I was about to refuse again, but out of the corner of my eye, I caught the signature at the very bottom of the page. The handwriting was neat and elegant—Ethan Sterling. It felt like a lightning bolt struck my brain. I stared blankly for several seconds before my gaze rigidly moved upward to read the contents: [Summer, this is our third year sitting together as lab partners…] I slammed my hand over the paper, my face burning so hot it felt like it might explode. My sister was still begging: “Read it, Summer! I want to hear it too!” 4 I managed to distract my sister, clutched the envelope, and bolted into my room. I threw open the window and let the cold wind hit my face for a long time, but my heart wouldn’t calm down. I looked at the letter again. I was absolutely certain Ethan wrote this. Back in high school, my handwriting was atrocious. My English teacher couldn’t stand it anymore and actually gave me Ethan’s notebooks to trace over for an entire semester. I could recognize his handwriting even if it turned to ashes. But… why? Why would Ethan Sterling have liked me in high school? My thoughts drifted back to the beginning of our freshman year, the first time I met him. I was a small-town girl who had just moved to the city to attend its premier high school. I showed up carrying an oversized, cheap plastic moving bag stuffed to the brim with all my belongings. By the time I reached the school gates, it was too heavy to carry, so I just dragged it behind me. But I overestimated the quality of that bag. The friction against the concrete tore a massive hole in the bottom. I walked for quite a while before realizing the bag felt too light. I turned around and saw my things scattered all over the pavement. Textbooks, pens, toiletries, my lunchbox… The kids around me were all staring. Laughter echoed from all sides: “Wow, look at the country bumpkin.” “That bag is something else, man.” My face burned bright red. I crouched down and started retracing my steps, picking everything up. Not long after, I bumped right into a boy walking toward me. He was wearing a backpack, tall, with strikingly handsome features. He was holding a pile of my scattered belongings. “I picked up the stuff further down,” he said flatly. He looked over my shoulder at the shredded plastic bag on the ground. “Do you have another bag?” I shook my head awkwardly, too embarrassed to even look him in the eye. He thought for a second, pulled a few textbooks out of his own black backpack, and handed the bag to me. “Use this for now.” I took the backpack in a daze and looked up blankly. “How am I supposed to return it to you?” The boy pointed at the textbooks I had just picked up. “Aren’t you in Freshman Homeroom 3 too?” I froze, instinctively looking down at the textbooks he was holding. The name tag on the cover read his class and name. Freshman Homeroom 3. Ethan Sterling. … If we’re talking about who liked who first, I was definitely the one who fell for him first. Unfortunately, due to a mix of circumstances, that secret crush died a quiet death. After graduating from college, I joined an unknown, small startup for an internship, only to unexpectedly run into him again. That’s when I realized he was the one who founded the company. It just goes to show how the gap between people only widens over time. While I was still stressing over how to feed myself, Ethan had already started a business and climbed his way into the elite class. So, how did this love letter even come to exist? I racked my brain but couldn’t figure it out. Does Ethan still… Just thinking about it made my heart race, but before I could entertain the thought, I suddenly remembered the gossip the interns were whispering in the pantry. Ethan probably already has a fiancée. So this love letter, whether genuine or not, could only belong in the past. 5 While I was wallowing in melancholy, I heard Lily’s angry voice from the living room: “Leo! You broke your promise! I’m never playing with you again!” I cracked the door open and saw Lily holding her smartwatch up, currently on a call. The kid on the other end burst into tears the moment she spoke: “Please, I’m begging you, just give the letter back! My uncle came home unexpectedly today and found out I touched his stuff. He yelled at me so bad! I’ll give you a hundred bucks—no, I’ll give you all my Christmas money! Just give it back, please?” Maybe it was because he was crying so pitifully. Lily pouted and stayed quiet for a moment. She hesitated for a long time while the boy kept begging. “Fine, I’ll go talk to my sister.” She sounded conflicted. “It was supposed to be her present.” “Thank you so much!” The boy sounded immensely relieved. Then, he suddenly added, “Oh, by the way, my uncle should be at your house soon. He asked for your address and left half an hour ago. You can just hand the letter directly to him.” I jolted, practically launching myself out of the room. Grabbing Lily’s wrist to speak into her smartwatch, I demanded: “Hey kid, what’s your uncle’s name?” The boy stammered, “E-Ethan… Ethan Sterling.” Ding-dong— At that exact moment, the doorbell rang. I froze. I scrambled to the peephole and peeked out. Standing outside, waiting patiently, was Ethan. He was wearing casual clothes, his hair not perfectly slicked back like usual. He looked a bit more approachable. But that wasn’t the point. The point was, if I opened the door right now, things would get insanely awkward! How were we supposed to work together after this?! I turned and locked eyes with Lily. Just as she was about to speak, I slapped my hand over her mouth. “Listen to me. Go open the door. Don’t tell him I’m home, and definitely don’t tell him who your sister is.” I sprinted into my room, shoved the letter back into the envelope, and practically threw it at Lily. “Give this back to him, and then shut the door!” There was no time to worry about manners. Lily nodded. After I was safely hidden in my room, she trotted over and opened the door. … When the door opened, Ethan was about to speak, but he didn’t see anyone at eye level. He paused, looked down, and saw a little girl holding an envelope up to him. “Hi. Are you Leo’s uncle? “This is your stuff. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to take it.” The little girl looked so pitiful that the frown on Ethan’s face instinctively softened. “It’s okay. Leo sold it to you; it’s his fault.” He glanced at the envelope and asked, “Did you open it?” The tear marks on the flap were pretty obvious. Lily’s eyes darted around, and she immediately lied: “I’m sorry, mister. I was just really curious, so I peeked inside. But I don’t know how to read very well, so I didn’t understand it.” Ethan smiled and let it drop. He handed Lily an envelope of his own. “A belated holiday tip. Work hard in school.” He didn’t linger and left shortly after. Once the door closed, I stepped out of my room. Lily flashed me an “OK” sign. “Mission accomplished!” 6 On the final day of my vacation, I drove back to the city. As I was prepping my materials for a meeting the next day, I realized I had left a crucial document at the office. I needed to verify some data, and doing it the next morning would be cutting it too close. I only hesitated for a few seconds before grabbing my car keys and heading out. My apartment wasn’t far from the office—just a ten-minute drive. Our company occupied the top floor of a twenty-story building. Standing outside, I looked up at the lights glowing on the top floor and paused. Frank, the security guard returning from his patrol, spotted me. “Who’s there?” “Hey, Frank.” I waved. “Oh, it’s you, Summer.” Frank smiled. Having worked there for a few years, I was a familiar face. I asked him, “Is someone still up there this late?” Frank looked up. “I just came down from there. It’s your CEO, Mr. Sterling.” He clicked his tongue. “He’s been here since this morning, working non-stop. Guy’s a total workaholic.” … I slipped into the office, grabbed my document, and was trying to leave quietly when I noticed light spilling from the CEO’s office at the end of the hall. After a moment’s thought, I changed direction and walked toward it. I was about to knock but caught a glimpse inside through the open blinds. My raised hand stopped mid-air. Ethan was lying on the black leather sofa, his long legs slightly bent. He was wearing his pristine white dress shirt, but his tie hung loosely around his neck. The top two buttons were undone, revealing the sharp line of his collarbone. I froze, then gently pushed the door open, terrified of waking him. Ethan’s brows were slightly furrowed; even in sleep, he didn’t look at peace. In my memory, he was almost always like this. Those handsome brows rarely seemed to relax. But I also remembered a time when Ethan showed an incredibly gentle side. It was the spring of our junior year. We had been desk partners for a year. He was the math rep, and I was the biology rep. That afternoon, the teacher sent us to the print shop outside the school gates to pick up some test papers. As soon as I stepped out of the gate, I ran into my grandma, who had come to visit me. She was thrilled. “Summer! I was just wondering how I was going to get inside!” Our school usually didn’t allow outsiders in. She had taken a long bus ride from our small hometown, transferring multiple times, and managed to spot me right as she arrived. She held my hand and chattered away. Ethan was standing a short distance away, waiting for me. My grandma asked me, “Summer, did you share the homemade fudge brownies I asked you to give your classmates last week? Did they like them?” I smiled. “They loved them. They all said you’re a great cook.” “That’s wonderful!” The wrinkles on her face deepened with her smile. But I had lied. I ate all those brownies myself. At first, I offered them to my roommates, but I accidentally saw them throwing the bag into the trash. “It looks dirty. You’ll get sick eating that,” they had said. I couldn’t stand seeing my grandma’s hard work trashed like that. And as a teenager, I had my pride. So I ate every single one of those leftover brownies by myself. I asked my grandma to wait for me by the print shop. I told her I’d take her to get food as soon as I got the papers. But there was a problem with the biology tests, so I had to call the teacher to sort it out. When I finally came out, I saw Ethan keeping my grandma company. I heard my grandma ask him, “Did Summer share any of my brownies with you?” Ethan paused for a second, then smiled. “She did. They were delicious.” Hearing this, my grandma beamed even brighter. She immediately pulled a small bag from her tote bag, her eyes full of hope. “I have more right here. Do you want some?” Older folks are like that—they always instinctively save what they think is best for the younger generation. To my grandma, her homemade brownies were the absolute best thing she could offer her granddaughter to share with her friends. I looked at Ethan nervously. But to my surprise, he reached out, took a piece of the fudge, and ate it without hesitation. “Thank you, Nana.” His eyelashes were long, casting faint shadows under his eyes in the sunlight. His usually sharp features softened completely. I stared at him, mesmerized. I heard him praising me—telling her I had great grades, worked incredibly hard, was very kind, and had lots of friends. My grandma was so happy that day. And it was from that day on that I realized I kind of… liked him. 7 A secret crush is a chaotic, one-person war. I secretly paid attention to his every move, mimicking his little habits when he thought about problems, copying his handwriting. Even the slightest accidental physical contact between classes made my heart race. Just like that, I carefully collected these precious little moments. Before summer break of our junior year, I planned to confess my feelings to Ethan. But right around that time, rumors about him started spreading through the class. “I heard his mom and sister ran away because his dad beat them! And his dad went to prison last year for getting drunk and starting a riot!” “Are you serious? I always thought Ethan looked kind of dark and gloomy. He totally gives off the vibe of someone who would randomly punch you.” “It’s true. I heard violent tendencies are genetic. We better stay away from him.” “Oof, guess Ethan won’t be able to get a security clearance for a government job now.” Their tones were dripping with schadenfreude. I couldn’t take it anymore. I snapped my head around and glared at them. “Someone’s just bitter that he always gets first place while you’re permanently stuck in second, huh?” The guy froze, then cursed: “Are you crazy?!” “You’re the crazy one! Rabid dog!” To be honest, I was usually very timid and rarely got into fierce arguments. Worse, I was the type who cried when I got angry. The argument barely started before my eyes were already red and welling up. So when Ethan walked into the classroom behind the teacher, the sight that greeted him was me, crying and cursing someone out, looking like an absolute mess. The guy and I were sent to stand in the hallway as punishment. The teacher asked us why we were fighting. We looked at each other and both chose to stay silent. He was silent out of guilt. I was silent because I was afraid Ethan would be hurt if he heard. … My secret crush also ended that summer. The day I finally gathered the courage to confess to him was the last day of summer break. Following an address from memory, I found Ethan’s house. It was an old, run-down alleyway, houses crammed together. Two or three people were peering into the courtyard of Ethan’s house. “He’s beating the kid again. It’s a sin!” “Shouldn’t we go stop him? What if he kills him?” “Don’t! Old Yang tried to break it up a few days ago, and that bastard hit Old Yang too!” I hurried forward just as a massive crash echoed from the courtyard. Through the gate, I saw the front door get kicked open. Ethan was thrown out onto the ground. “You little punk.” A tall man walked out and kicked Ethan squarely in the side. “You actually dared to hit back?!” The man was tall but heavily intoxicated, stumbling on his feet. Ethan wiped blood from the corner of his mouth, scrambled up, and tackled the man to the ground. “Why don’t you just die?!” “Why don’t you just die?!” Ethan wrestled with him. The man got enraged and hit back harder, cursing, “Even if I die, I’m taking you with me! You little punk, you think because you’re older now your wings are fully grown? Let me tell you, my blood flows in your veins! You’re my son, and you’ll never escape me for the rest of your life!” “Look! You look exactly like me when you hit people!” The man laughed manically. “You’re my son! My son!” Ethan’s raised fist froze in mid-air, then dropped in defeat. He stumbled to his feet, looking down at the man on the ground. The teenage boy had already grown very tall. He had the strength to protect himself now. “I am not like you,” Ethan said. “I am the valedictorian. I was before, and I will be in the future. I’m going to get into the best university, study the best major, and make something of myself. I’m going to walk a completely different path from you. “I am nothing like you.” His words dropped like a bomb in my heart. Suddenly, I understood why Ethan studied so desperately hard. Because he didn’t believe in fate. He wanted to change his destiny. Looking down at the love letter in my hand, I actually felt a wave of shame. Maybe I shouldn’t confess. To Ethan, it would probably just be a nuisance. A burden. I called the police. I waited until the cops arrived, then silently walked out of that alley. And buried my teenage crush deep in my heart. Until graduation. Ethan wasn’t just the valedictorian of our school; he was the state science fair champion. Flowers and applause surrounded him. Calls from Ivy League recruiters poured in constantly. Although I got into a decent state college, compared to Ethan, it felt completely insignificant. The gap between us was firmly established in that moment. My teenage crush ended amidst my endless hesitations and second-guessing. At the high school graduation ceremony. I stood next to Ethan, staring straight ahead, but tilting my head slightly toward him: “Ethan, I wish you a bright future.” Ethan paused for a second, his voice as clear and crisp as ever: “Thank you. I wish you a bright future too.” And with that, our youth drew to a close. 8 In the quiet office, I looked at the man in front of me. Ethan, you’ve made it to the top, so why don’t you look happy? A half-finished, cold cup of coffee sat on the coffee table, surrounded by scattered documents. Ethan looked genuinely exhausted. Dark shadows hung under his eyes, and a light stubble shadowed his jaw. He looked completely unguarded, and somehow, vulnerable. I stared at him for a few seconds, picked up his suit jacket from the side, and gently draped it over him. But the moment I let go, a hand firmly clamped around my wrist. I jolted, looking up to meet Ethan’s eyes, my heart skipping a beat. His gaze was a bit hazy at first, but quickly sharpened. His grip was tight, and I frowned in pain. Ethan loosened his grip, his voice raspy. “Why are you here?” I took a step back and replied, “I came back to grab a document. I saw the lights were on, so I came to check.” Ethan glanced at the jacket that had slid down to his lap. He stayed silent for two seconds, then got up to pour a glass of water. I was about to quietly slip out when I heard him call my name. I stopped. “Mr. Sterling, did you need something else?” He looked at me. A few seconds later, he said, “I’m sorry for having a bad attitude toward you in front of the interns earlier.” I didn’t expect him to apologize to me so suddenly. I quickly said, “It’s fine. It really was our team’s fault. I take full responsibility. Please don’t worry about it, Mr. Sterling.” Ethan paused. “You…” For some reason, I felt incredibly nervous. Just as my heart was about to jump into my throat, I heard his tone shift. “You should head home early. Drive safe.” “Will do, Mr. Sterling.” I softly opened the door and walked out, letting out a long breath. … I worked for five days straight. After clocking out on Friday, I went back to my apartment and slept like the dead. When I finally woke up, it was almost 10 PM. I picked up my phone and saw hundreds of new messages in the intern group chat. Maya, one of the interns, had lost a necklace. It was a jade Buddha her mom had specially gotten blessed at a temple for her. It meant a lot to her. She had searched everywhere but couldn’t find it, and was asking if anyone had seen it. “Could the cleaning lady have picked it up? What if she swept it away as trash?” I sent a voice memo to calm her down: “Don’t panic. Do you know roughly what time you lost it? I’ll check the security cameras for you.” Maya thought about it carefully. “Probably around 4 or 5 PM. I got hot and took off my jacket, maybe it fell off then.” As a director, I had access to the security footage, so I immediately pulled up today’s recordings. I found Maya’s desk and watched it back and forth several times. Finally, zooming in, I saw that when Maya took off her jacket, something fell from her person and was accidentally kicked under a desk by a passing coworker. I breathed a sigh of relief, screen-recorded the clip, and sent it to Maya. “Ahhhh, thank you so much, Summer! I’ll go get it on Monday!” “No problem. Glad we found it.” I exited the chat. I was about to close the security footage when my finger slipped on the mouse, jumping the video forward to 9 PM. Ethan’s figure flashed across the screen. I paused, surprised. Did Ethan really stay until 9 PM tonight? But then I felt confused. Ethan’s route out of the office didn’t pass by this area… Driven by curiosity, I clicked, rewinding the footage a few seconds. On the screen, Ethan appeared from one side, his target clear—he walked straight to my desk. Me: “?” He paused at my desk for two seconds. After he walked away, I could clearly see that a few caramel truffles had been left on my desk. My eyes widened, and I shot up straight in bed. There was candy on my desk almost every single day. I always assumed an early-arriving coworker was leaving them, and I ate them all without a second thought. Could it be… I hit the keyboard, pulling up the footage from the past few days. I skipped to 8 or 9 PM each night. Sure enough, I saw Ethan again. The one leaving the candy had always been him. Bzzzz— My phone vibrating broke my train of thought. Seeing the caller ID, my heart dropped. Why was Ethan calling me at this hour? I hit answer, but a strange woman’s voice came through. “Hello? Is this Summer Hastings?” “Yes, this is she. And you are…” “Mr. Sterling is drunk. You might need to come pick him up.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391846”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The “engagement dinner” had just ended, and my boyfriend made it Instagram official. I zoomed in on the photo, only to find my wrist sporting a thick, gold Cartier-style bracelet, a heavy diamond necklace resting against my collarbone, and massive diamond studs edited onto my ears. His caption read: [Even with flawless diamonds hitting record highs today, I still want to give you the absolute best.] The comments section was blowing up. Our friends were universally praising him as the ultimate provider, a good man who spent every last dime spoiling his girl. A few minutes later, my boyfriend replied to a thread: [🐶😊 Chloe is my future wife, of course I’m going to spoil her rotten! You know what they say: Happy wife, happy life. Treat your queen right, and the universe rewards you with success.] I looked down at my bare, empty wrist. Suddenly, I was wide awake. 1 “Babe, you are so fake for this! How are you going to get engaged and not even tell me?” I had barely stepped into my apartment when my best friend, Sarah, called. I accidentally tapped the speakerphone button, and her teasing voice echoed through the room: “Gotta hand it to Liam, though. He’s got serious cash to drop on you. That diamond necklace? And those earrings? Absolutely blinded me.” “What diamonds?” This year’s New York winter was especially brutal. Coming inside to the blasting radiator heat made my face feel hot and tight. “Liam’s Instagram post! He’s in the comments talking about ‘happy wife, happy life.’ Honestly, locking you down is the best move he’s ever made.” With stiff fingers, I opened Instagram. The very first post on my feed was Liam’s official announcement. In the photo, my neck and ears were sparkling, not to mention the heavy gold bangle that looked at least an inch thick on my wrist. Gold and diamond prices had been skyrocketing lately. Coupled with Liam’s caption about giving me the best despite the market, it had drawn everyone’s attention. Liam and I had been together since college, and we shared a lot of mutual friends. I swiped through the comments, but there were too many to read. The ones that stung the most were from his old fraternity brothers. Brother A: [Yooo, so this is what it takes to lock down Chloe? She doesn’t come cheap!] Brother B: [Congrats, man! Third time dropping a bag on a proposal and you finally got her to say yes.] Brother C: [My guy is moving up in the world! When are you bringing the future Mrs. out to buy the boys dinner? We don’t ask for much, just keep it to the standard of that engagement ring.] “Babe? Chloe?!” Sarah seemed to sense something was wrong through my prolonged silence. She asked tentatively, “What’s wrong?” I looked down at my empty wrist. My eyes stung. “Tonight wasn’t an engagement dinner…” Right then, a text from Liam popped up. My screen vibrated, and I saw his hesitant message: [Babe, you home yet?] [My parents are coming to the city for Thanksgiving. They want to meet your parents. Is that cool?] [Also… jewelry is just so overpriced right now. Let’s skip the expensive engagement rings when we actually get married. That stuff costs as much as a Manhattan rent deposit, it’s really not worth it…] Staring at his rambling texts, my patience finally snapped. [Then what is the meaning of that Instagram post?] [We literally just had a normal dinner tonight. Why did you tell everyone we’re engaged?] [And the diamond necklace? The Cartier bracelet? What is going on?] The typing bubble at the top of the screen appeared and disappeared. After a long time, he finally replied, defensive and irritated. [Yeah, I used an AI app to Photoshop the jewelry on you.] [I just wanted to look good in front of my frat brothers and coworkers. Is that a crime?!] [Sarah heavily edits and filters her selfies all the time. I just Photoshopped some jewelry. Why are you blowing this out of proportion?] Blowing it out of proportion? Never mind the fact that Liam and I worked at the same tech firm. Dozens of our coworkers and managers were on his Instagram. He knew perfectly well that after the holidays, I was up for a critical promotion to management. The company never said it out loud, but the unspoken rule was that they frowned upon promoting women who were about to get married or go on maternity leave. The corporate ladder was already hostile enough for women, and he had just thrown a massive, unnecessary roadblock in my path. More importantly—I hadn’t even said yes to marrying him! On the phone, Sarah suddenly gasped. “Holy crap!” “Chloe! Liam is in the comments saying you guys are trying for a baby! Is that true?!” I refreshed the page, only to find that Liam had restricted my account. I couldn’t see the post anymore. 2 Liam and I had been together for five years. We started dating in the spring of our junior year. When we got together, he asked me repeatedly if I minded that he came from a poor farming town in the Midwest, that he was broke, and that he was drowning in student loans. Back then, I just smiled like an idiot. I thought I had hit the jackpot. Liam was poor, but he was brilliant. We constantly fought for the top spot on the Dean’s List. His roommates told me he was meticulous and scrubbed their dorm clean every weekend. Plus, he was gorgeous. He had sharp, striking features and stood at a solid six-foot-two. That same year, my dad’s business went under. I was too embarrassed to ask my parents for an allowance, so I took a job serving food in the campus dining hall. Even wearing a hairnet and mask, feeling the stares of classmates I knew made my face burn with shame. One day, an arrogant pre-med student—a guy I regularly beat in exams—stood on the other side of the glass sneering at me. He complained that his beef stew only had potatoes, then whined that his pasta was overcooked, intentionally trying to humiliate me. The line behind him was backing up, and the murmurs were getting louder. That was when Liam appeared. He took the serving spoon right out of my hand and expertly scooped a perfect portion onto his own tray. The pre-med guy opened his mouth to complain, but Liam’s voice was icy: “You got your food. Move.” The guy glared at me but eventually slinked away. After that day, Liam was always looking out for me. Then, toward the end of our junior year, a miracle happened. Some old factory land my dad bought years ago was purchased by commercial developers. A massive windfall hit our family—enough that we would never have to worry about money again. I quit the dining hall job. The day I quit, Liam confessed his feelings. “Chloe, I’m in love with you.” My heart nearly leapt out of my chest. “But…” He hesitated. “I don’t have money. My family is broke. Even with my scholarships, the second I graduate, every paycheck is going straight to my student loans.” “Knowing all that, do you still want to be with me?” At the time, my family was newly rich. My dad spent his days bragging about the zeros in his bank account. With zero financial worries of my own, I was fully prepared to dive into a romance where money didn’t matter. I nodded vigorously and promised I didn’t care. Liam let out a huge breath of relief and took my hand. I held onto that hand for five years. In those five years, Liam “proposed” to me three times. The first time was at our graduation. Riding an adrenaline high, he snatched a bouquet of carnations his frat brother was supposed to give to a professor and dropped to one knee in front of the whole quad. The second time was our second year in the workforce. He had finally paid off his student loans. He took me out for cheap tacos, downed a few beers, and proposed using the aluminum pull-tab from his beer can. The third time… The third time was this past New Year’s Eve. He actually put effort into it. He booked my favorite ski resort, dressed up in a ridiculous bear mascot costume, and bought roses and champagne. But it was also that exact proposal that led to a massive fight. It ended in disaster. We had been giving each other the silent treatment for a month until tonight, when he asked me to dinner to apologize. And that dinner resulted in this absurd “engagement” and the AI-generated jewelry. “Chloe… what are you thinking?” Sarah asked over the phone. What was I thinking? I forced a bitter smile. Over the past month of our cold war, the word breakup had been hovering on the tip of my tongue countless times. That night, my sleep was plagued by nightmares. I dreamt I was running, and Liam was chasing me, holding jewelry folded out of gold foil wrappers. He was screaming, “Chloe! Marry me! If you don’t like the AI jewelry, I made you some out of paper!” 3 I woke up in a cold sweat at 4:00 AM. Unable to go back to sleep, I went into the office early. The power in the third-floor breakroom was out, so I took my mug down to the second floor. Just as I reached the landing between floors, someone pushed open the fire-escape door, chatting with the person behind them. “With prices this high, you really dropped that kind of cash on diamonds for her?” Diamonds. The word set off alarm bells in my head. I quietly stepped back and hid in the shadow of the stairwell. A familiar voice sighed. It was Liam. “Honestly, man, I’ll level with you. I Photoshopped it.” His tone was heavy, like he was carrying the weight of the world. “You know my background. I grew up with nothing. I can’t afford the kind of rings Chloe expects. I just wanted to save face for her. She’s always saying that once people see you in an outfit, it’s basically secondhand. I figured if I Photoshopped the jewelry and everyone saw it, it’s practically the same as her owning it.” “But… she threw a massive fit over it.” The man across from him was silent for a moment before speaking. “I always thought she was just a bit overly ambitious.” “I never realized she was this shallow.” “You’ve got the patience of a saint.” Liam’s voice was filled with nothing but helpless resignation. “What can I do? We’ve been together for years. I just have to take the hit.” I peeked through the gap in the stairwell. Standing across from Liam, smoking an e-cigarette, was David—the senior manager who mentored me when I first joined the company. David was notoriously strict and unsmiling. When I was first assigned to his team, I had actually complained to Liam about him. Liam had convinced me to stick it out, saying that a year under David was worth three years under anyone else. Surprisingly, the first time David met me, he smiled. “You’re Chloe? I remember the portfolio you submitted. Great work.” He dropped his harsh exterior and patiently mentored me. To me, he was both a teacher and a friend. But not long after, at the company retreat, Liam—who had agreed to keep our office romance a secret—suddenly grabbed my hand during an all-hands meeting, announcing our relationship to the entire firm. Shortly after that, David abruptly removed me from his core project team. When I chased him down to ask why, he just pressed his lips together and said coldly, “I don’t keep team members with ulterior motives.” He had looked at me with such ice in his eyes, as if I had committed an unforgivable crime. Yet right now, David was patting Liam on the shoulder like a brother. “If you hadn’t warned me back then that Chloe was a flight risk and planning to leak our core data, I never would have guessed she was that kind of person,” David said darkly. “You really can’t judge a book by its cover.” “Are you seriously going to marry a woman like that?” “Listen, Liam. I have a friend from grad school. If you want…” Under the dim fluorescent lights, I stared blankly at Liam’s shadowed face. The core project data had always been securely stored on my encrypted laptop. I had never leaked it. The only time it was ever vulnerable was one weekend when Liam claimed his hard drive crashed and borrowed my laptop to “work overtime.” After I was kicked off the team, Liam was mysteriously drafted onto it the very next quarter. He quickly got a promotion, got a raise, and paid off the rest of his student loans. “No,” Liam said, suddenly looking up, brushing away the gloom. “I’ve made up my mind. I’m going to take responsibility for Chloe for the rest of my life.” “No matter how awful she is.” Looking at the fierce, self-righteous expression on Liam’s face, a massive question mark exploded in my head. Why? My brain was a tangled mess. Tiny details I had forgotten over the years suddenly rapidly unspooled. Then, as the motion-sensor lights flickered off— It all made sense. 4 To verify the incredibly absurd theory forming in my head, I immediately took PTO and rushed back to my apartment. During our cold war, I had kicked Liam out to stay at a friend’s place. Sitting on the coffee table was an old iPad Liam had been meaning to sell online. If I was lucky, his iMessage and iCloud were still logged in. Months ago, he had complained about running out of storage, so I had upgraded him to the highest tier of cloud backup on my dime. Everything synced automatically. I knew I would find exactly what I was looking for. And I did. In the dead silence of my apartment, my knuckles turned white gripping the tablet. I scrolled back five years. Back before we were officially dating, right after he ‘heroically’ defended me in the dining hall, he was texting his college roommates: [Some people will put on a pathetic act just to get out of doing real work.] On graduation day, when he hastily proposed with stolen flowers, he told me it was an impulse and it was okay if I said no. But to his frat brother, he texted: [Chloe thinks carnations are too cheap. She’s demanding 999 roses before she’ll say yes.] When he borrowed my laptop, he fabricated a digital trail making it look like I was trying to sell David’s core data to a rival firm. Then he turned around and begged David not to fire me, playing the hero who prevented the leak, effectively securing his own spot on David’s team. When I teased him that his second proposal with a beer tab lacked a bit of effort, he spent the entire night complaining in his department’s group chat, playing the self-deprecating martyr: [I guess it’s true what they say. Love without money is like sand in the wind. How am I supposed to afford a 5-carat diamond?] When coworkers gasped and asked if I specifically demanded five carats, he stayed silent, letting their imaginations run wild. And then came this past New Year’s Eve. He booked the resort, put on the suit, and I admit—when he took off the heavy mascot head, sweating and smiling, I was genuinely moved. Until I noticed his phone propped up on a tripod, live-streaming the entire thing. He had sent the link to all our college alumni and colleagues. Hundreds of people were watching. In that moment, I couldn’t tell if he actually loved me or if I was just a prop for his performance. We had a screaming match and didn’t speak for a month. What I only discovered now was that after I stormed off that night, Liam kept the livestream running for hours. His frat brothers took turns joining the stream, calling me a gold-digging opportunist and urging him to dump me. Brother A aggressively demanded: “With your tech salary, you’re doing just as well as these Manhattan girls. Dump her. You can find someone younger and richer. Why are you hung up on her?!” Liam played the role of the tragic, loyal boyfriend to perfection. “We’ve been together for five years. She gave me her best years. Walking away now would be a betrayal.” “Besides, she’s not a bad person. It’s just her background. Her best friend Sarah is gorgeous and loaded. It makes sense that Chloe feels insecure and wants more material proof of my love.” “I just need to work harder. Once I save enough, I’ll bring her home.” With just a few sentences, he solidified his image as the ultimate devoted partner. But during our month-long cold war, Liam had been actively swiping on dating apps and meeting new women. Yet, upon entering the brutal New York dating market, he quickly realized that a handsome face and a decent tech job weren’t enough to secure the wealthy, elite city girls he secretly desired. He hit a wall. And so, he orchestrated this dinner to break the ice and win me back. He didn’t propose because he loved me. He proposed because, after weighing the pros and cons, I—the girl with an apartment, no debt, and blind devotion to him—was his safest safety net. That was why he used AI to generate the jewelry on Instagram to mark his territory. If he hadn’t restricted me from the post, I would have stayed in the dark forever. I sat frozen on my sofa, my blood turning to ice. I couldn’t move a muscle. Suddenly, my phone buzzed. Sarah sent me a photo. I zoomed in. Liam was smiling brightly at a café. Sitting across from him was a young woman, and next to her was David—setting up the blind date he had promised. 5 [Chloe, what the hell is this?] Sarah texted. Sarah and I grew up together. She was the only person who knew my true financial situation. After surviving my family’s bankruptcy, the debt collectors at our door, my exhausting shifts, and our sudden massive windfall, I became incredibly private about money. I never flaunted it. To Liam, I was just a middle-class girl with an apartment. I called Sarah and quickly gave her the rundown. She was seething. “That absolute parasite! I am going to ruin his little blind date right now…” Before she could finish, she suddenly burst into vindictive laughter. “Oh my god, never mind! The girl just asked about his family background. Her face went pale, and she literally walked out before the coffee arrived.” “Seriously, Chloe, what did you ever see in him? Sure, his job is okay, but with his salary, he couldn’t afford a down payment on a shoe box in Queens. His parents have medical debt, and his older brother is a deadbeat who lives in their basement…” I didn’t say anything. I asked myself the same question: What did I see in him? To my face, Liam was gentle, polite, passionate, and responsible. But in the shadows, he spread rumors, stabbed me in the back, and manipulated my image. He was a leech, sucking the life out of me to make himself look better. The more monstrous I looked to the outside world, the more saintly he appeared by comparison. If I actually married him, my family’s wealth would be used to prop up his entire existence. I morbidly wondered: if he found out my family had an eight-figure bank account, how would he spin my “gold digger” narrative then? But the thought vanished instantly. I wasn’t going to have a future with this man. The sun began to set, casting a faint glow through the window. When Liam’s text finally came through, I snapped out of my daze. In just a few hours, my heart had been on a rollercoaster—from fury, to breakdown, to self-doubt, and finally landing on absolute, cold clarity. I wiped away tears I hadn’t realized I shed. My mind was made up. [Babe, I was so vain for posting that yesterday. I was wrong. Can you forgive me?] [I bought tickets for my parents and my brother. They’ll be in New York for Thanksgiving. Let’s get both our families together for dinner. Please?] I let him sweat. I could picture his face on the other end perfectly. Brows furrowed, unconsciously biting his nails, pacing anxiously for my reply. I watched the typing bubble appear and disappear for hours. I made dinner, took a shower, and only then picked up my phone. [Sure.] [But send me a photo of your family first. I don’t want to accidentally greet the wrong people at the restaurant. That would be embarrassing.] 6 Probably because his blind dates kept crashing and burning, Liam became incredibly attentive. He kept hovering around my desk at work, dropping hints about when he could move back into my apartment. I deflected every time. During those weeks, I broke my lease on the small apartment. I threw away every single thing tied to Liam—the cheap stuffed animals, the yellowing phone cases, the photobooth strips. Five years of a relationship, bagged up like garbage and tossed into the dumpster. I told my parents everything. Furious, my dad immediately bought a luxury penthouse in Manhattan under my name and wired seven figures into my personal account. “Money is an adult’s armor,” my parents told me. “And we are your fortress.” Armed with that fortress, I went to Liam’s Thanksgiving dinner. Standing outside the private dining room, I could hear the raucous cheers through the heavy oak door. Loud. Very loud. The moment he sent me the restaurant address, I knew this was going to be the “grand, public proposal” he had promised his audience. I pushed the doors open. Instantly, dozens of eyes locked onto me. Liam was the first to stand up, walking toward me with a massive bouquet of flowers. His face was a mask of tender affection. Behind him were our college friends, colleagues, his frat brothers, and his parents and brother. He slowly pushed a worn, patched-up cloth bag across the table toward me. He dropped to one knee and untied the string. Inside were crumpled bills. Very few hundreds; mostly tens, fives, and ones. “Babe, you always said my proposals weren’t formal enough, not grand enough.” “This time, my family is here. Our friends and colleagues are here. With everyone as my witness, I am offering you my absolute all. This is the life savings my parents scraped together for my wedding. It’s exactly $13,268.” “I know it’s not a lot to someone from the city, but this is everything my humble family has to give to our new life together.” He had clearly rehearsed this. His voice trembled with orchestrated emotion, every word echoing with noble sacrifice. “So, Chloe Bennett, will you marry me?” I looked at his frat brothers. Beneath their fake excitement, I saw the gleam of mockery. To them, it was the perfect joke: the greedy city girl forced to accept the broke country boy’s pennies. “Say yes! Say yes!” his roommate chanted. “He already got you the diamonds! You can’t say no now!” I stood there in dead silence. The cheering slowly died down, replaced by a bizarre, heavy tension. You could hear a pin drop. Brother B clicked his tongue, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Wow. Liam bought the jewelry, brought his life savings, flew his family out here. You show up late, your parents didn’t even bother coming, and you’re still acting like you’re too good for him?” Liam frowned, playing the hurt puppy. “Chloe, we agreed both our parents would be here…” I reached into my bag, pulled out a stack of oversized, high-gloss printed photos, and slammed them into his chest. Hard. The top photo was an AI-generated family portrait. Liam’s real family was on one side, but the “bride’s” family was composed entirely of AI-generated avatars. It looked terrifyingly fake. “What is this?” he demanded, shocked and angry. “You love using AI, don’t you? If you can Photoshop diamond rings, I can Photoshop a family portrait. Consider our parents officially introduced.” I tossed the next photo on the table. It was a poorly edited image of a pink carnation drowning in a sea of 999 red roses. I looked directly at the frat brother whose flowers Liam had stolen years ago. “Chad, right? Years ago, Liam stole your carnations and told everyone I rejected him because I demanded 999 roses. Consider the debt paid.” Chad stared at the photo, dumbfounded. “Photoshop…? Wait, what?” I smiled sweetly. “Liam told everyone that as long as you guys see the Photoshopped jewelry, it counts as me owning it. So, you’ve seen the roses. That means he bought them. Flawless logic, right?” Next, I pulled out an absurdly scaled photo of a 5-carat diamond ring and slid it toward his coworkers. “I never asked for a 5-carat diamond. I got a beer tab. But I’m gifting him a picture of one. Fair trade, wouldn’t you say?” “…” The photos rained down on the floor like snow. The final item I threw was a cheap, plastic jewelry set coated in fake gold paint I bought off Temu for $9.99. “You faked diamond jewelry for Instagram. I bought you plastic jewelry. How’s that for matching your energy?!” I looked at him with pure disgust. “For five years, you played me for a fool.” “Now it’s your turn to see how it feels.” Amidst the stunned silence of the room, I grabbed my purse, turned on my heel, and walked out. On the cab ride home, my phone didn’t stop vibrating. By the time I walked into my new penthouse, I had over a hundred missed calls. His latest text was pathetically desperate: [Chloe, I know I have a fragile ego. I know I’m poor. But I never wanted to hurt you. If you asked me to, I would literally die for you.] [Please, for the sake of our five years together, don’t throw me away like this.] Right now, to him, I was a winning lottery ticket he was terrified of losing. I knew the battle wasn’t over. But with the truth on my side, I wasn’t afraid of him anymore.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391845”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I transmigrated as the beautiful ex-wife of an autistic male lead. Even though I talked to him eight hundred times a day, he still refused to spare me a single glance. So, I gave up and decided to just chill. The system told me to curry favor with the male lead. I kicked his shoulder and told him to go make me a three-course meal with soup. While he was sweating over the stove, furiously wielding a spatula, I chewed on my boba pearls and directed him: “Next time you order me boba, make sure it’s 30% sugar, no ice, and add a cheese foam on top.” Later, when this almighty, powerful billionaire was attending a top-tier executive meeting, a phone alarm suddenly went off. Everyone in the room held their breath. The notoriously unsmiling man faintly curled his lips: “It’s time. I have to order her boba first.” 1 Transmigrating as the beautiful ex-wife of an autistic male lead. At first, I refused. You have to understand, I’ve loved talking since I was a kid. When I go back to my hometown for the holidays, my mouth alone can leave a dozen gossiping old ladies speechless. I post on Facebook more than ten times a day. My voice memos are always a full 60 seconds. Staring at the tightly locked bedroom door, I banged on it while wailing: “System, look at this! Is this reasonable?!” I had been married to Arthur Sterling for two years. He spent most of his time locked in his room, not speaking, just tinkering with his woodwork. Every day, I stood outside his door, chanting like a monk about everything that happened over the past few days. For example, today the boba shop skimped on the pearls, 50% sugar was way too sweet, the neighbor Mrs. Smith’s son’s cat just had three kittens, and so on. But I never heard a single word in response. I was stuck talking to the air and the potted plants every day. If this kept up, I was going to become autistic myself! The system came up with a terrible idea: use my beauty. Wearing something incredibly revealing, I stood outside his door and cooed, “Arthur~” Well, I don’t know if the guy inside got hot, but I definitely started burning up. I ran a fever for two whole nights. I almost thought I was going to die. Arthur suddenly noticed the silence. Realizing something was wrong, he came out of his room, found my brain practically frying from the fever, and hurriedly called 911 to get me to the hospital. But even then, he still refused to speak to me. I knew he could speak. I knew he could hear me. In a fit of anger, I gave up. Whoever wants to woo him can do it themselves. 2 2:00 PM the next day. I woke up starving. As soon as I opened my eyes, I saw an incredibly handsome face and a pair of deep, dark eyes. It was Arthur. I have to admit, as the male lead, Arthur was objectively gorgeous. His features were sharp and chiseled. He was 6’2″, with a broad frame and a narrow waist—an extreme physical contrast to me. No wonder, even though he was autistic and currently just a despised illegitimate son, there were still countless women in our social circle waiting to push me out and become the new Mrs. Sterling. I could appreciate the view, but I couldn’t eat it. So frustrating! Annoyed, I rolled over. Only then did it slowly dawn on me that I was sleeping naked! I instantly dove under the covers. I roared, “Arthur Sterling! Why are you in my room?!” Of course, Arthur didn’t answer. Blushing furiously, I grabbed my pajamas from under the covers and hastily pulled them on. I peeked out from a tiny crack in the blanket. There was hot water and cold medicine on the nightstand. He was actually pretty nice. Even though our marriage was arranged by his late mother and we had no romantic feelings for each other… Once the female lead appeared, our flimsy, better-than-nothing three-year marriage would come to an end. No fighting, no drama, just an amicable divorce. But for these three years, Arthur and I had treated each other with polite respect. Arthur’s ears were bright red. He coughed lightly, looked away, and with a slightly inexperienced touch, felt my forehead. Then he let out a low sigh of relief. The fever had broken. I clutched my stomach, looking at him with puppy-dog eyes. “Arthur, I’m hungry.” Hearing this, he froze, looking at me in disbelief. I held out both my hands, looking incredibly innocent: “Look at what the grease and smoke in the kitchen have done to my hands! A few more trips to the kitchen and I’ll turn into a haggard old woman! I’m not going, I’m not going.” His frown deepened, his eyes filled with even more confusion. I felt a little guilty. “Fine, I admit I usually just order takeout, I don’t cook.” Arthur opened a food delivery app on his phone and handed it to me. I pushed it away: “Takeout is bad for you! Especially for someone recovering from an illness! It’s all processed meat. It’s better not to eat at all!” Finally, he opened an electronic recipe book. It featured basic dishes like tomato and egg stir-fry, pepper steak, steamed pork ribs, etc. My eyes lit up, and I quickly pointed to a few: “This one, this one, and this one. I want them all.” The system sighed helplessly: [You are the weakest host I’ve ever had. How did you catch a cold from that?!] [Also, you’re really just letting him in the kitchen? Aren’t you afraid he’ll poison you or blow the place up? The male lead has autism right now, can you show a little more patience?!] “I’m a patient too! Besides, what does autism have to do with cooking?!” [You’re just making excuses!] “I’m speaking the truth!” “System, didn’t you say the male lead is a genius and can learn anything? Is a little bit of cooking really going to stump him?” The system grew frantic: [Is the male lead’s high IQ supposed to be used for THIS?!] Why not? Life is just three meals a day. Who says dealing with groceries and cooking doesn’t require intelligence? 3 Not long after, Arthur knocked on my door. As soon as I opened it, the smell of home-cooked food wafted in. I hadn’t smelled something so comforting in a long time. When I was little, my parents were always busy. No one ever cooked for me; all three meals were just takeout, takeout, takeout. On my eighteenth birthday, we finally sat down together. They asked me what I wanted for a present. I said I wanted to eat a home-cooked meal one day. They looked at each other and awkwardly agreed. But the day after I turned eighteen, they got divorced. They had their own futures and careers to run to, and I was just proof of a past they were ashamed of. Neither of them wanted to take me. I never got to eat that meal. Arthur really was gifted. The food was incredible. I angrily devoured three huge bowls of rice. Crying while I ate. Arthur just stared at me, completely dumbfounded. He reached out and wiped a grain of rice from the corner of my mouth. “Arthur, you’re amazing.” Hearing this, Arthur looked up at me, thinking he had misheard. Seeing me staring at him unblinking, he abruptly lowered his head, pretending to be very busy with his bowl and chopsticks, but his ears were burning red. Of course, I, focused entirely on eating, didn’t notice any of these details. I reached out and grabbed the last piece of braised pork belly from the plate. Just as I was about to put it in my bowl and eat it with my rice, I suddenly realized something… Arthur hadn’t eaten a single piece. There weren’t many pieces to begin with—only six in total. I had just eaten five, and this was the last one. After thinking for a second, I gently pulled his chopsticks from his hand and placed the last piece of meat into his bowl. “You eat it. I’ve had enough.” Arthur didn’t touch the meat for a long time. I frowned. “Are you not eating it because you think it’s gross that it was almost in my bowl?” Arthur lowered his eyes and took a bite of the pork belly. The system’s roar echoed in my head: [Host! What are you doing?! Didn’t I tell you the male lead NEVER eats braised pork belly?!] [When he was a kid, a puppy he raised was slaughtered by the Sterling family and made into braised pork belly! He hasn’t eaten it since!] [Host, I’m seriously done with you! How can a person mess up this badly?!] I grabbed my hair in frustration. The system had told me Arthur didn’t eat braised pork belly, but I just thought he was a picky eater! Who knew it was because of something like that?! No wonder he looked a bit strange when I told him to make it earlier. “Stop eating it.” I took the piece of pork belly out of his bowl. “Arthur, I forgot. We’ll never eat braised pork belly again.” Arthur might look cold on the outside, but underneath, he was just a normal guy who grew up sensitive and insecure. He didn’t say a word. The atmosphere grew tense again. I grabbed a piece of steamed rib. “Arthur, from now on, you’re in charge of all three meals a day, okay?” I had never been married before transmigrating, so I didn’t know how a married couple was supposed to act. Even though our three-year marriage only had one year left, we saw each other every single day; we should at least try to live comfortably. “No matter what, we’re married right now, so we need to divide the household chores. You’ll be in charge of washing vegetables, cooking, doing the dishes, doing laundry, mopping the floors… I’ll let you know the rest when I think of it.” He put down his chopsticks and looked at me, bewildered. His expression clearly said, “Are you serious?” I have very thick skin. “Why are you looking at me like that? I have my own chores too! I’m responsible for making this house lively! Do you know how exhausting it is for me to say eight hundred sentences a day by myself?! You don’t even appreciate my hard work!” Arthur suddenly reached out his hand. I instinctively shielded my bowl: “What are you doing? Trying to steal my food?!” He slowly spat out two words: “Doing dishes.” I froze. This was the first time I had ever heard him speak. His voice was so nice. I instantly got excited. “Did you just speak?! Can you say a little more? Your voice is so nice! This is great! If you talk more, I won’t have to put on a one-woman show anymore! It’s so boring being the only one talking in this house. Just say a few more words! Do you want me to go find you a microphone?!” I babbled on and on. And was rewarded with exactly one word. “No.” Okay, fine. At least he’s willing to open his mouth. Even if it’s just one or two words at a time. But no matter what, saying two words is better than saying nothing. Otherwise, this house would be way too quiet. “I’m done eating. Thanks for doing the dishes, Hubby~” This was the first time Arthur had heard that title. As he took my bowl, his movements were a bit stiff. He pressed his lips together, clearly not understanding, but he still did as I asked. I nodded in deep satisfaction. Arthur definitely had the potential to be the perfect, dutiful husband. I crossed my legs and casually gave his waist a light kick: “If you don’t respond, it makes me look really awkward.” His whole body stiffened, and he forced out a single word as if it pained him: “Mhm.” I smiled brightly: “Hubby is the best!” Arthur’s face flushed red, and he practically sprinted to the kitchen with the bowls. 4 While Arthur was in the kitchen doing dishes. I lay on the sofa trying to pick a boba tea, torn between two different shops, when the doorbell suddenly rang. I got up, walked to the door, and asked, “Who is it?” I leaned against the door to listen, but the keypad lock was suddenly thrown open. Before me stood an older man’s face and the manicured face of a middle-aged woman. “Young Master Sterling, Mrs. Sterling is here to see you.” The so-called “Mrs. Sterling” was Eleanor. She didn’t have a son; she only gave birth to a daughter for Mr. Sterling, named Mia. After having Mia, her health was poor. Despite years of treatments, she couldn’t conceive a son. So, she shifted her attention to Arthur. After Arthur’s biological mother left, Eleanor constantly tried to insert herself into Arthur’s life. Arthur’s birth mother loved Mr. Sterling until the day she died, but Arthur always hated his father. He refused to return to the Sterling family or accept a single cent of his father’s money. Mr. Sterling felt guilty toward Arthur’s mother. And Arthur was his only son. Therefore, everyone knew that if Arthur returned home, he would undoubtedly inherit the Sterling empire. Publicly, Eleanor and Mia showered the so-called “illegitimate son” with care and concern. But in reality, if it weren’t for the endless humiliation and abuse they inflicted on him in the past, Arthur would never have developed autism. Just then, a loud crash came from the kitchen. I hurried over and saw a bowl shattered on the floor by Arthur’s feet. He was trembling all over, his voice sharp: “Get out!” 5 Of course, Eleanor wouldn’t give up that easily. She stepped forward, trying to placate him: “Arthur, it’s okay if you don’t want to call me Mom. I’m here to invite you to your sister’s eighteenth birthday party next week. Your father misses you very much and hopes you can come.” Arthur pressed his lips together, his entire body shaking as he fought to control himself. It took so much effort to get him to talk to me these past few days. If Eleanor triggered him now, would I have to go back to my one-woman show?! I whooshed right in front of Arthur, using my small frame to form a human shield. “Get out.” I repeated Arthur’s words. Eleanor finally looked at me slowly. She looked me up and down, her expression filled with disdain: “You’re Arthur’s wife? I heard you’re an orphan with no parents. Aren’t you just with him for the Sterling blood in his veins? If that’s the case, you should be persuading him, not adding fuel to the fire.” I was furious. Having held it in for so long, I finally exploded: “If you don’t know how to speak properly, you can keep your mouth shut. There’s no need to spew garbage! Who do you think you’re morally kidnapping here? He shouldn’t be calling you Mom in the first place—what kind of mom are you anyway? And what sister? Just because you share the same blood makes you family?! Well, we’re all descendants of the first humans, why don’t you call me Grandpa then?! But even if you acknowledged me, I wouldn’t accept a grandchild like you! Why didn’t you say all this when Mr. Sterling was here? Why only say it in front of Arthur? What, trying to act like a manipulative little ‘green tea bitch’ like the kids do? Take a look at your age first!” I took a deep breath, grabbed Arthur’s hand, and continued glaring at Eleanor: “Also, I don’t know where you got the key to our house, but right now, I need you to get out. “Otherwise, don’t blame me if I spray spit all over your face! Though honestly, you should thank me for washing your face so you can take a good look at yourself.” Eleanor’s face cycled through shades of green and purple. She choked for a long time but couldn’t squeeze out a single word. “Fine! You certainly found a wife with a sharp tongue!” I waved my hand to shoo Eleanor and her driver away. But Arthur stood frozen in the entryway, not moving for a long time. I confidently flipped my hair: “That was the most satisfying rant I’ve ever had! By the way, are the dishes done? Also, which boba place do you think is better?” Arthur looked up at me, an indescribable emotion in his eyes. A moment later, he returned to normal: “Not yet. The second one.” “Oh, then I’ll get the first one.” I went back to curl up on the sofa. [Host, what are you taking matters into your own hands for?! That banquet is the first time the male and female leads meet! It’s the first crucial plot point that establishes their emotional foundation! How can you just say you’re not going?!] I thought it was very simple. “But Arthur doesn’t want to go! Besides, shouldn’t I be asking you guys? To create a ‘tragic but beautiful’ male lead for a female-oriented romance novel, you’re making him live this miserably before his character growth?!” The system went silent again. I couldn’t be bothered with it. It’s just a plot point, right? I refuse to believe he won’t meet the female lead just because he skips one banquet. Not long after, Arthur finished washing the dishes. Not only did he clean up the shattered ceramic on the floor, but he also wiped down the stove, the kitchen tiles, and the counters. He even tied up the kitchen trash bag and set it by the door. I finally finished ordering my boba and was scrolling on my phone on the sofa. It wasn’t until a tall silhouette blocked my light that I slowly looked up. Arthur’s eyes were red. Even his lips were trembling. He looked very kissable. Wait, what am I thinking?! Arthur took a few steps forward, exuding an indescribable stubbornness and defiance: “Why… speak up… for me?” “Because you don’t like her, so I don’t like her either.” Arthur frowned. In his understanding of the world, the simplest reasons were often the most impossible ones. “We’re married! Isn’t this how a married couple is supposed to be? Sharing joy and anger, sharing the consequences.” Hearing the word “married,” Arthur froze. Over the past few days, he had heard this word from my mouth more than once. The concept was slowly starting to take shape in his mind. He pressed his lips together. He seemed very anxious, yet struggled to form a complete sentence: “Then why… agree… to be… married to me?” I stared at his face. Arthur’s looks leaned toward the cold and aloof side. When he wasn’t speaking, he looked exactly like an untouchable “flower on a high peak,” giving people the urge and desire to pull him down from his pedestal. But when he was anxious to speak, his usually expressionless face gained a hint of color, the corners of his eyes drooping slightly, evoking a protective instinct. In short, no matter the situation, he was so good-looking you couldn’t tear your eyes away. “It’s simple. Because you’re good-looking.” As soon as the words fell, the tips of Arthur’s ears burned red. It took him forever to squeeze out one word: “Oh.” I laughed out loud. “What does ‘oh’ mean?” He replied with utmost seriousness, word by word: “I… don’t know how to respond. But… you said… I have to respond.” I nodded and smiled at him: “You learn fast!” He clearly hadn’t gotten used to my compliments yet. Hearing this, he turned around incredibly fast. And after dropping a quick, “You… look good too,” he bolted. 6 These past few days, Arthur had been talking more and more. This made me very happy. At least I wasn’t talking to the air anymore. However. Lately, he was always on the phone with strangers. I was a bit scared, worried he was getting scammed. Even though he and I only had enough savings to barely fill the gap in a rich person’s teeth, that didn’t mean someone wasn’t coveting our good credit scores. After thinking about it for a long time, I finally brought up this serious issue: “Could you give me your phone for a second? I want to download an—” Before I could finish, the phone was already in my palm. “—Anti-fraud app.” After handing me the phone, Arthur went into the kitchen to cook. When I used to order takeout, I never realized how much time making three meals a day actually took. Arthur spent most of his time in the kitchen, and the rest of the time in his study on the phone. Even though Arthur was the male lead, the possibility of him getting scammed couldn’t be ruled out! After downloading the anti-fraud app, I still felt a bit uneasy and asked delicately: “Can I use your browser and look at your contacts?” Arthur appeared in front of me instantly. “Contacts, yes. Browser… can you not look at that for now?” I realized what he meant a second later. Blushing, I whispered, “Sorry.” A faint smell of burning drifted from the kitchen. Arthur sprinted back immediately. Right then, the doorbell rang. A voice called out from outside: “Delivery!” I was confused. I didn’t think I ordered takeout today. I opened the door to find a cup from my favorite boba shop. Ordered by Arthur. Crème brûlée milk tea, 30% sugar, no ice—my exact order. The sound of the range hood in the kitchen stopped. Arthur took off his apron and walked out holding a plate of pepper steak. I shook the boba I had already opened: “You ordered this?” Arthur set the food on the table and glanced at me: “Mhm.” His tone was completely natural: “You always order a cup to drink in the afternoon after lunch, so I bought it early. Drink it early, otherwise you won’t be able to sleep tonight.” I was a bit confused: “Can’t sleep? How did you know I couldn’t sle—” “You didn’t sleep either?” “Mhm.” “You weren’t intentionally listening at my door, were you?!” “This room… doesn’t have good soundproofing.” My defenses crumbled. Totally shattered! So not only could Arthur hear my silvery laughter every night, but he also knew exactly what kind of “Not Safe For Work” videos I was watching to help me fall asleep! No. Fine, he knew. But why did he have to SAY it?! Ahhhhhhh! 7 A few mornings later, while Arthur was preparing breakfast for me, the Sterling family had a set of men’s formal wear and a women’s evening gown delivered. It was for Mia’s eighteenth birthday party tonight. A few nights ago, I heard Mr. Sterling call Arthur, using his late mother’s belongings to threaten him into attending this banquet. Whenever Arthur faced me these past few days, he always looked a bit unnatural, probably trying to figure out how to tell me. I said softly: “This gown is actually really pretty. I’ve never worn such an expensive dress.” A flash of light crossed Arthur’s eyes: “You’re willing to go?” “Yeah, I’ll go with you.” It seems the plot is still correcting itself. Arthur would meet the female lead, Serena, who would stand up for him here. They would fall in love, understand each other, and overcome all obstacles together. I should be happy that my mission was nearing its end. But my heart actually felt a little uncomfortable.

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A-List movie star Ethan Hayes tweeted late at night: [How does my giant nephew just disappear while we’re on a walk?!] I was just taking a screenshot to text my manager and gossip about it when someone knocked on my door. I opened it to find the stray cat I always feed, sitting right next to the exact kid from the movie star’s photo. “Human, do you like tiny humans?” 1 Between filming projects, I often feed the stray cats in my apartment complex. There’s one beautiful tabby with a huge pregnant belly who always meows when she sees me. Before eating, she always rubs against my legs and gives two little meows to say thank you. Very polite. After feeding her for a while, she memorized which door was mine and started leaving little trinkets on my welcome mat. At first, it was dead mice and sparrows. I got jump-scared a few times. Later, she upgraded to pretty leaves and little flowers. I couldn’t resist taking a picture and posting it on Twitter. [Who gets daily flower deliveries from a feline knight? Me, that’s who!] My fans flooded the comments, praising me for being sweet and the cat for being an angel. Unexpectedly, the notoriously aloof A-lister Ethan Hayes actually left a comment. [Human, as long as you like it.] The internet immediately exploded, and people started shipping us. [Holy crap! The Ice King Ethan Hayes is actually trolling online? If this isn’t true love, what is?!] [Ahhh, my rare-pair ship is finally sailing! I’ve been shipping them ever since they walked past each other at that awards show!] [Chloe Bennett is Hollywood’s most wanted girlfriend! Mr. Hayes, you have excellent taste!] My manager, Sarah, called me immediately, demanding to know what exactly my relationship with Ethan was. I racked my brain, but the only interaction I could think of was squeezing past his seat at the Oscars and whispering, “Excuse me.” “Does Ethan Hayes have a secret crush on you?” “How is that possible?! I’ve only been in the industry for three years. Our paths have literally never crossed!” I rubbed my temples, opening my messages to text Ethan’s manager, trying to figure out the most polite way to handle this. After all, if the gossip blogs got ahold of this comment and spun a narrative, we’d never be able to wash our hands of the rumors. I hadn’t even typed two words when my phone started vibrating. I answered it. A deep, slightly embarrassed male voice came through the speaker. “Chloe, I am so sorry. My nephew accidentally sent that comment from my phone.” 2 After discussing it with Ethan, we posted a joint statement. It was official and polite, explaining the misunderstanding and expressing a mutual desire to work together in the future. Even though it was a huge mix-up, seeing Ethan follow me back and add my number made me so giddy I couldn’t help but roll around on my bed. There was a rustling sound outside my door. I grabbed the bag of kibble and opened it. The beautiful, heavily pregnant tabby stared at me with huge eyes and gave a soft meow. “Luna, you don’t have to climb all these stairs just to bring me stuff! You’re about to pop, you need to rest.” I muttered to myself while pouring the food into her bowl. Luna habitually came over to rub against my leg. Hearing my words, she meowed in slight dissatisfaction. She used her paw to push today’s gift toward me—a perfectly dried butterfly. I carefully picked up the butterfly, rubbed Luna’s head, and thanked her. Only then did she give two satisfied purrs and start eating. “Luna, why don’t you just move in with me? Running around outside with that big belly is dangerous.” I gently patted her swollen stomach, genuinely worried. Luna ignored me. After finishing her food, she washed her face with her paws, shook out her fur, and turned to leave. I forcefully scooped her up and brought her inside, but she just circled the front door, crying to be let out. “Human, I have a family. I will come visit you next time.” A soft, gentle voice suddenly echoed right by my ear. I looked down. Luna was brushing her tail against the door, meowing. I must be hallucinating from staying up too late reading scripts. I shook my head, laughed at myself, and opened the door to say goodbye. 3 A new TV series started production. I asked my assistant to feed Luna every day while I hurried off to the studio lot. It was just a small guest role, so I didn’t have many scenes. After wrapping up for the day, I would wander around the backlots, feeding the studio strays. The weird thing was, I kept hearing strange voices in my ears. “Garfield, you’re already so fat, stop eating!” “Oreo, you’re acting psychotic again, go away, go away!” “Watch out for the humans! Someone knocked me out last month, and when I woke up, I didn’t have the equipment to chase the ladies anymore, boohoo!” On my last day on set, I went to feed the cats one final time. I was staring blankly at the cats happily munching away when someone tapped my shoulder. I turned around. It was Ethan Hayes. He seemed to be filming a historical fantasy epic. His long hair was loose, his silk shirt was half-open, and a thin layer of sweat glistened over his defined chest. He didn’t look like the internet’s “Aloof Ice King.” He looked more like… a siren. Maybe my stare was a bit too intense. Ethan uncomfortably pulled his collar together and crouched down to pet the cats with me. I snapped out of it, my face burning, and quickly bowed my head to say hello. Ethan offered a gentle greeting, the tips of his ears looking a bit red. He smoothly pulled a pair of disposable gloves from his pocket before gently stroking a kitten. “Are you… allergic to cat hair?” “No, I just have a very jealous little monster at home with serious double standards.” He seemed to think of someone. The corners of his lips curled up, his eyes crinkled, and the starlight in his gaze melted away his usual sharp, intimidating aura. Ah! The internet’s ultimate bachelor was taken! I was so dizzy from this massive piece of insider gossip that I honestly didn’t even remember how I drove home. I was just picking up my phone to text Sarah all the details when a sound came from my door. I opened it. It was Luna. She held her head high, carrying a beautiful little calico kitten in her mouth. “Human, this is my prettiest child.” 4 I stared blankly at Luna. She closed her eyes, tilting her head up, waiting for me to pet her. Wait, what is happening? Am I actually hearing cats talk? “Luna? Is that you talking?” “Human, do not make a fuss.” Luna flicked her tail and carried the kitten right into my apartment. The little calico seemed to have just been weaned, but she wasn’t afraid of people at all. She immediately waddled over to my leg, purring like a motor. “Human, I have already educated her. From now on, you are her mother.” Luna’s tail wrapped around my ankles. I finally snapped out of my shock and picked up the calico. She just gave a sweet, tiny “mew.” “Human, the child is too young to speak yet.” As if reading my mind, Luna answered me while licking her paw. I’m getting a cat! And I can talk to cats! I scooped up Luna and gave her a huge hug. She resisted slightly, pushing my face away with her toe beans. “Human, do not be startling.” Once I calmed down, reality hit me. I had two back-to-back shoots lined up for the second half of the year. I would barely be home. Looking at the adorable kitten, I had to tearfully decline. “Oh, Luna, I really want to adopt her, but I have too much work this year. No one will be here to take care of her.” Luna looked up at me blankly, then silently picked the kitten back up in her mouth and walked out. I chased after her, trying to explain, but she ran too fast and disappeared down the hall. Crap. I made the cat mad. Desperate, I posted on an online forum. [I rejected a mother cat’s kitten and now she’s mad. How do I fix this?!] My fans immediately flooded the replies with advice. [Bribe her with wet food! Works every time!] [Cats don’t hold grudges! Don’t worry, Chloe baby!] [Just explain it to her properly next time you see her and give her lots of kisses!] Ethan Hayes also commented, short and to the point: [Good human. The cat won’t stay mad.] The shippers built a massive comment thread under his reply. I suddenly remembered Ethan’s exposed chest from earlier that day, and my face felt hot. Hot men are a hazard to my health. I rushed to the bathroom to splash cold water on my face. When I checked my phone again, Ethan was trending at number one. Did he cause a scene because he commented on my post again?! I hurriedly clicked the hashtag, only to find he had posted a photo with a three-year-old boy. [How does my giant nephew just disappear while we’re on a walk?!] The comments were chaotic. Some told him to call 911, some speculated it was his secret son, and others thought his account was hacked. I was just taking a screenshot to send to my manager when someone knocked on my door. I opened it. Luna was sitting there, elegantly grooming her paw. Sitting right next to her was the exact kid from the movie star’s photo. “Human, if you don’t like kittens, that is fine. Do you like tiny humans?” 5 The little boy looked about three years old. He was pale and chubby-cheeked, but the moment he saw me, his lip quivered like he was about to cry. Luna swept her tail across his face and gave an impatient meow. “Do not cry. This is your new mother.” Her fluffy tail distracted him. He broke into a smile through his tears, but very seriously corrected her. “I already have a mommy.” Then, he let out a massive sneeze. I frantically scooped him up, brought him inside, and dug out a string cheese to shove into his hand. The culprit, Luna, was leisurely rolling on my rug, looking incredibly pleased with herself. I pulled up Ethan’s contact info, my thumb hovering over the call button in distress. How do I even explain this? Hey, my stray cat gave me your nephew as a gift? I looked at the little boy. He blinked his big, round eyes, and the curve of his smile looked exactly like Ethan’s. Is this actually his secret kid? The boy suddenly spoke. “Auntie, I’m so hungry.” “I’ll go find you something to eat!” I agreed instinctively, only realizing a second later what he called me. Wait, Auntie? Luna hopped over to my feet, purring while cleaning her fur. “Human, I have already educated him. From now on, you are his Auntie.” Looking at Luna’s proud face, I couldn’t bear to burst her bubble, so I just nodded along. Hiding in the kitchen, I braced myself and dialed Ethan’s number. “Mr. Hayes, hello. Um, your nephew seems to be at my apartment.” There were a few seconds of dead silence on the other end. I was cringing so hard my toes curled. How do I explain this? No matter how I phrase it, I sound like a kidnapper! His manager, Mark, finally spoke, sounding completely baffled. “Are you telling me that Ethan’s nephew bypassed the security gate, entered the building code, dodged the lobby concierge, and went straight to your door?” He was about to say more, but Ethan cut him off. The man’s clear voice sounded raspy and exhausted. “Chl… Thank you. Could I trouble you to bring him over to my place?” 6 Ethan had already caught a chill from filming in the rain, and running around in the wind looking for his nephew had pushed him into a high fever. His manager, Mark, drove over to pick us up. Seeing the little boy happily eating at my dining table, Mark’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. “Leo is actually behaving for you?!” So his name was Leo. I had just boiled him a quick bowl of mac and cheese, but he was eating it like it was a Michelin-star meal. The moment Leo saw Mark, however, he burst into tears. Mark expertly pulled a teddy bear out of his bag, hiding his face behind it, and tried coaxing him in a high-pitched voice. But no matter what he did, Leo refused to leave. Mark could only look at me helplessly. “Ms. Bennett, could you please help us bring Leo home?” Me? “I’ve only known him for a few hours. I doubt he even likes me that much.” But Mark’s pleading look was too much. I tentatively walked toward Leo. To my surprise, the kid immediately reached his arms out to me. “Auntie Chloe, hold me!” Mark was stunned. He looked at me, then at Leo giggling in my arms, and a look of sudden realization dawned on his face. I frantically waved my free hand to explain, but Mark practically shoved me into the back of the SUV. “It’s totally fine! We never pry into our artists’ private lives.” I held Leo like he was a ticking time bomb. He fell asleep the second the car started moving. That unique, sweet smell of a sleeping toddler filled my senses. He grabbed a fistful of my hair and slept soundly, not even waking up when we parked. I had no choice but to carry him all the way up to Ethan’s penthouse. As we stepped out of the private elevator, a few paparazzi disguised as delivery men brushed past us. Camera flashes went off behind my back. Mark frantically tried to block them while I kept my head down and rushed Leo inside the apartment. 7 Ethan was wearing soft loungewear and a medical mask. His eyes were completely bloodshot; he clearly hadn’t slept all night. He nodded at me. “I am so sorry. This must have been a huge hassle for you.” I smiled and shook my head, gently placing Leo on the massive bed. I tried to stand up, but my hair was locked in the kid’s tiny, iron grip. Ethan walked over, wrapped his hand gently around my hair, and began carefully prying Leo’s fingers open. His movements were incredibly light. His gaze was focused and warm, and the tiny mole near the corner of his eye was entirely too captivating. I couldn’t look away. “Got it.” I don’t know how long I was staring, but when I snapped out of it, Ethan’s beautiful eyes were locked onto mine. I couldn’t read the expression under his mask. “Sorry, sorry! I didn’t sleep well, spaced out for a second.” I jumped back, my face burning like a furnace. I pulled out my phone and started babbling nonsense. “Um, my cat is calling me home.” It is a universal truth that when people are embarrassed, they pretend to be very busy with their phones. But to my absolute shock, my phone actually started ringing. I hurried out of the bedroom. Sarah’s piercing scream nearly shattered my phone speaker. “Chloe Bennett! Since when do you have a secret child?!” Wait, what??? 8 I opened Twitter. #ChloeBennettSecretChild #ChloeAndEthan #ChlethanIsRealWeAreSaved My vision went dark. I instinctively looked up at Ethan. He whispered something to Mark, then looked at me apologetically. “You might have to stay here for a few days.” Ethan took my phone. I have no idea what kind of smooth-talking he did with Sarah, but when he handed it back, my manager actually sounded thrilled. “Chloe, just stay at the A-Lister’s place and learn from him for a few days! You don’t have any shoots this week anyway.” Then she hung up. I stared at Ethan, completely lost. He patiently explained. The paparazzi had snapped photos of me carrying a child into his building. Right now, they were swarming the lobby and the street outside. If I was photographed leaving, it would be a PR nightmare. As for the trending hashtags and the news, his PR team was already handling it. “I am truly sorry. I promise my team will make sure this doesn’t negatively impact your career at all.” Ethan started coughing, his voice sounding even more raw and raspy. I suddenly remembered he was a sick patient, yet he had been standing here negotiating with my manager for my sake. I nodded to let him know it was fine, but then a thought popped into my head. “Um, won’t your girlfriend mind?” “Girlfriend?” Ethan frowned. “I don’t have a girlfriend.” Then who was the “jealous little monster” he mentioned? …Was it Leo? An unexplainable wave of joy washed over me. I couldn’t stop my lips from curving up, and I was still smiling when I woke up the next morning in his guest room. I was still in a daze when a chubby little hand started smacking my cheeks. “Ahhh! Ahhh!” I opened my eyes. It was Leo, looking incredibly panicked. “Auntie Chloe, Uncle Ethan is too hot!” 9 I bolted out of bed and ran to Ethan’s room. He was burning up, his skin radiating heat. I called Mark, but he was stuck at the agency headquarters handling the PR crisis and couldn’t get back immediately. I ransacked the bathroom and kitchen, but I couldn’t find any fever reducers. Seeing my panic, Leo burst into tears. Between trying to comfort a screaming toddler and frantically searching for medicine, I was losing my mind. “Human children are so much trouble.” A familiar voice echoed. Luna leaped down from the windowsill and strutted over to Leo. Miraculously, he stopped crying instantly. “Human, the medicine is in the second drawer of his nightstand.” I didn’t have time to process how Luna knew where the meds were. I yanked the drawer open, found the pills, and rushed back to the bed. Ethan groggily opened his mouth. As I placed the pill on his tongue, the tip of it grazed the palm of my hand. The sudden tickle sent a jolt straight to my heart. I helped him sit up to drink some water. He forced his eyes open halfway. “Thank you, Chloe.” His pronunciation of my name was so soft, I almost thought I imagined it. Seeing him start to sweat, I let out a sigh of relief. I was just about to turn and leave when he let out a low groan. “What’s wrong?” I sat on the edge of the bed, letting him lean his weight against my shoulder. Those eyes—the ones legendary directors constantly praised as “cold, regal, and untouchable”—were currently drooping like a pathetic, kicked puppy. It was impossible not to feel soft toward him. “Headache,” he mumbled, sounding exactly like he was pouting. I reached up to check the temperature of his forehead. He grabbed my hand and pressed it firmly against his skin. “That feels better.” Having never been this intimately close to him, my face flushed. But I had no choice but to indulge him, using my cool hands to soothe his forehead, his cheeks, and his neck. His burning Adam’s apple bobbed up and down against my palm, making my thoughts entirely chaotic. Thank God Luna had dragged Leo out of the room to play. Otherwise, seeing my face this red, they probably would have thought I caught the fever too. Ethan seemed to still be uncomfortable. He kept holding my hand, guiding it lower, over his collarbone, and resting it flat against his chest. The firm, burning heat of his skin beneath my fingertips felt like it was setting me on fire. He let out a comfortable sigh, sending a shock of electricity from my hand straight down my spine. He held my hand against his chest with one hand, while his other hand slowly slid around the back of my neck. Maybe it was pure instinct, but his hand on my neck gently pulled me downward, bringing my face closer to his. Why did his lips look even more flushed and… inviting when he had a fever? Without realizing it, I held my breath and leaned in.

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During my poorest, most desperate year, I catfished a top-tier billionaire heir online. By day, I played the aloof, intellectual college student. By night, I transformed into a seductive, curvy siren. “I really want to see… your abs.” “I miss you so much. I want you to leave marks all over me.” “I like you the most. I miss you so, so much every single night.” “Why won’t you look at me…” The guy remained completely unfazed. He just looked at me with deep, unreadable eyes, playing the part of the cold, distant rich kid perfectly. Eventually, I got bored and decided to cut and run. But instead of letting me go, he snapped, turning into a dark, obsessive psycho and locked me up. “You think you can just tease me and run away, you little scammer? I thought you said you liked me the most.” “Don’t just act needy online. Show me how much you need me right now.” [Obsessive/Possessive/Curvy/Seductive Little Scammer/Catfishing/Betrayal/Psycho Billionaire Heir]

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I had been with Rowan Hayes for six years. When I got up to use the bathroom in the middle of the night, I heard an argument outside the bedroom door. But it was just the two of us in the apartment. Who was Rowan talking to? I peeked through the crack in the door, only to see… two Rowans? “Bro, you’ve had Lily to yourself all week. It’s my turn today.” I slumped to the floor in absolute terror, my mind a chaotic mess. The door suddenly swung open. The two impossibly handsome men stood there, both wearing identical expressions of faint regret. “Busted…” “Well then, Lily. Guess which one is Rowan?” My lips trembled, but I couldn’t form a single word. Damn it all to hell, I have face blindness! 01 They took a step closer, their tall, broad figures casting a shadow that completely engulfed me. One of the “Rowans” crouched down to my eye level, his attractive, fox-like eyes narrowing into a smile. “Lily, guess which one is Rowan?” My lips quivered, but nothing came out. Taking my reaction exactly as expected, his smile deepened. “Oh, I forgot. Our Lily has face blindness.” … I first met Rowan Hayes during my sophomore year of high school. He went to a different school and was two grades above me. I was top of my class in STEM, but compared to him, I was leagues behind. Our teachers eventually paired us up for the State Math Olympiad. Rowan was a guy of incredibly few words. During the training camp, unless I was actively asking him a question, he treated his words like they cost a hundred bucks each. But I never got tired of it. I followed him around every single day, pestering him with questions. Are you kidding? He was ranked first in the state. If I didn’t cling to his coattails now, when would I? It got to the point where Rowan would just sigh, reach out, and take my textbook the moment he saw me running over. “Which one are you stuck on?” After we won the championship, I asked Rowan what college he was aiming for. Rowan looked down at me, probably thinking to himself that he’d accidentally adopted a clingy kitten. “Stanford.” It felt miles out of my reach, but the word buried itself in my heart like a seed. “Then wait for me. I’ll definitely get in.” After spending two months together, Rowan knew exactly what I was capable of. He gave a soft “Hmm,” and then he smiled. His usually cold, handsome face softened instantly. “I’ll wait for you.” Two years later, during freshman orientation, I saw him again. He was standing on stage, giving a speech as the student representative. I waved at him. A flash of surprise crossed his eyes, but he quickly lowered his gaze and focused on reading his script. I figured Rowan was just shy. From then on, whenever I ran into him on campus, I’d enthusiastically greet him, never getting tired of it. As time went on, Rowan went from just giving me a polite nod to actually smiling back. Sometimes, when he smiled, the California sun would outline his sharp jawline in a soft golden halo. It made everything else pale in comparison. It felt exactly like that afternoon two years ago. That hidden seed was finally breaking through the soil. I started asking Rowan to go to the library to study. Honestly, Rowan didn’t need to study. He basically memorized things on the first read. Mostly, it was just me burying my head in endless calculus problems, and Rowan naturally becoming my unpaid private tutor. In return, I’d treat him to dinner. Even though Rowan was nearly six-foot-three, he didn’t eat that much. I, on the other hand, at five-foot-six, ate like a feral hog released from a pen. I couldn’t help but complain, “Rowan, do you work out a lot?” He looked down at me, thought for a second, and gave a soft “Hmm.” “No wonder your body looks like that.” Rowan gave me a weird look. “You haven’t even…” Then he seemed to remember something, his face flushed bright red, and he clammed up. I remember one time we were walking back from the library when a sudden torrential downpour hit. The street was empty, and there was nowhere to take cover. Rowan and I sprinted to a small park gazebo. I was wearing a white chiffon blouse that day. Rowan was brushing the rain off his shoulders, but when he turned to look at me, his gaze snapped away like he’d been burned. I was panting heavily, my pale face flushed pink from the sprint. A few strands of wet hair were plastered to my cheeks. He frantically stripped off his jacket and, ignoring my protests, forced it over my shoulders. Raindrops dripped from his wet hair, sliding down his cheek, tracing his neck, and soaking his white t-shirt. The defined ridges of his abs were faintly visible through the wet fabric. It took every ounce of my willpower to look away. In the end, neither of us dared to look at the other. We just sat there in awkward silence for two hours, waiting for the rain to stop. But the distance between us had definitely shrunk. My roommate, Chloe, couldn’t stop teasing me. “Girl, I told you! With that kind of crazy persistence, you could conquer the world.” I giggled like an idiot. “Chloe, do you think he’d say yes if I asked him out on a real date?” A weird silence filled the room. “…I’m Chloe’s sister, actually…” “…Oh.” Damn it. I really hate my face blindness. For the next few weeks, I constantly brought cream puffs and little pastries to Rowan. But Rowan didn’t have a sweet tooth. He’d take one tiny bite at most. Over time, Rowan quietly memorized all my favorite flavors, and eventually, he was the one bringing the desserts. But mostly, he just sat there quietly, watching me stuff my cheeks like a chipmunk. Rowan felt like he was raising a soft, fluffy kitten. Proud, cute, and completely food-motivated. Gradually, I started to feel like Rowan and I were just one step away from making it official. So the next day, I ordered a bouquet of red roses. When I came back with the flowers, I saw Rowan hugging another girl. His back was to me. The girl was petite, practically buried in his chest. I froze in the doorway. Rowan turned his head and clearly saw me. He frowned, his eyes dropping to the roses in my arms. He looked completely stunned. I didn’t wait for his reaction. I spun on my heel and bolted down the hall as fast as my legs could carry me. God, why do you have to play me like this? 02 When I got back to the dorm, I burst into loud, ugly sobs. Chloe clenched her fists in righteous fury. “I knew he was trash!” I sniffled. “But I haven’t even told him how I feel yet.” “Say no more, bestie. I know exactly what this is. As a veteran of the dating trenches, you’re suffering from a broken heart.” I cried even harder. I laid my heart bare, and he stomped on it. Chloe couldn’t take it anymore. She yanked me off the bed. She squished my tear-stained cheeks, looking disgusted. “Stop crying, girl. Your face is wrinkling up like a raisin.” “Come on, get dressed. We’re going out to party.” Before I knew what was happening, Chloe had dragged me to a VIP lounge and shoved me onto a leather couch between two six-foot guys with shredded abs. One was shirtless, wearing some kind of leather harness that pressed against his chest and arms, leaving faint pink marks on his skin. The other was wearing fluffy black fox ears and gold-rimmed glasses, smiling at me with devastatingly handsome features. They kept calling me “pretty lady.” My scalp tingled, my entire body went rigid, and I didn’t dare relax for a single second. Chloe started organizing drinking games. After three rounds, my head was spinning, and I passed out against her shoulder. When I woke up, I heard Chloe arguing with someone. I rubbed my eyes and groggily saw Rowan… and two girls? My head was pounding. I held my temples and sat up. What was this? Was he afraid I’d keep pestering him, so he brought his girlfriend to warn me off? I bravely raised my hand and pointed a shaky finger at Rowan. Chloe gently adjusted my arm so I was actually pointing at him. “He’s over there.” “Even though I… I like you… since you have a girlfriend, I won’t bother you anymore! Waaah…” I was doing so well, but my tear ducts betrayed me. My lip quivered, and I started wailing all over again. The girl standing next to him immediately panicked and waved her hands. “Hey, pretty girl, you’ve got it all wrong! Here’s what actually happened this afternoon…” She explained that she had been sitting down for too long, and when she stood up, her low blood sugar hit. Her vision went black, and she collapsed. Rowan just happened to catch her. After she finished explaining, she even pulled out a piece of paper. “Rowan knew you misunderstood, so he dragged me to the campus clinic to get a doctor’s note to prove I passed out.” I looked at Rowan. He was standing there, the tips of his ears bright red, looking like a little kid who’d been caught doing something wrong. Chloe, staying completely in character, rolled her eyes at him, grabbed the club promoters, and moved to another booth to give us privacy. The girl quietly slipped away too. Rowan and I sat side-by-side. At this point, I don’t know where I found the liquid courage, but I grabbed the cup in front of me and took a massive gulp. Except I grabbed the wrong cup. I grabbed Chloe’s. It was a lethal concoction of vodka, tequila, and beer. Completely unaware of the danger, I turned to Rowan. “I like you.” Rowan nodded. “I know. Aren’t we already dating?” My brain started to deep-fry. “Since when?” “Didn’t you accept my flowers this afternoon?” “Huh?” I opened my phone and saw several missed calls and a text from a delivery driver. It was a picture of a bouquet of roses left on the porch of my dorm. “You ordered flowers too?” Rowan immediately spotted the issue. We stared at each other for a second, then both burst out laughing. I pouted playfully, mumbling, “You still owe me fresh flowers.” “I already bought some on the way here.” 03 “Lily?” The familiar voice pulled me back to reality. “There’s a punishment for guessing wrong, you know.” I looked up at the two identical men standing in front of me, a cold sweat breaking out on my forehead. Their clothes, their eyes, their hair, even their exact height—completely identical. One of them crouched down, meeting my eyes. His warm thumb gently stroked my cheek. The deep affection and tenderness in his eyes felt like a net, trapping me completely. The other one just stood there. The shadow of his hair hid his expression, but I could tell he was smiling. “Lily’s spacing out like this… Doesn’t it look exactly like when she’s sleepwalking?” A lightbulb went off in my head. I do have a history of sleepwalking! I immediately let my eyes unfocus, staring blankly ahead, pretending I couldn’t see the person right in front of me. My gaze passed right through them. “Looks like she really is sleepwalking.” A regretful, amused voice spoke. The one standing up turned to leave. Halfway to the door, he stopped and said, “Rhys, make sure you turn the heat up. Lily gets cold easily.” “I know.” Rhys scooped me up into his arms. I kept my face entirely blank until he gently laid me down on the mattress. I kept my breathing perfectly even. Rhys leaned over, pressing his forehead against mine to check my temperature. “Why is she always so cold?” He shifted, wrapped his arm around me, and pulled me flush against him. I didn’t dare move a muscle, staying curled up in the crook of his arm. His bare, muscular chest was pressed tightly against me. Rhys held me, his other hand absentmindedly stroking down my back, from my neck to my spine. Like he was petting a cat. The familiar, warm scent wrapped around me, and I instantly relaxed, stifling a silent yawn. Whenever I was stressed, “Rowan” used to comfort me exactly like this. I was so used to this dynamic that once the tension left my body, a wave of exhaustion hit me. As I drifted off to sleep, Rhys opened his tightly shut eyes. There wasn’t an ounce of sleepiness in them. 04 I should have realized it. I actually met Rhys the very first time I visited Rowan’s apartment. Rowan had gone overseas for a competition and won. To celebrate, I bought a gift and rushed over to his place the day he got back. I dropped the bags, threw my arms around him, and buried my face in his chest, mumbling, “I thought you weren’t coming back until the day after tomorrow?” “Rowan” tilted my head up, kissed my lips, and gave a warm, gentle smile. “Because I missed you.” It was a simple, honest, and passionate confession. He started cooking dinner. The soft kitchen lights hit his perfect side profile, and I practically drooled. You have to understand, I’ve been chronically single my entire life. He looked like an absolute snack. So, I hugged him from behind, my hands starting to wander. A deep flush spread across his face, making him look like a shy, blushing bride. My hands roamed over his abs, poking and squeezing. “L-Lily, don’t…” “I’m just checking to see if you kept up with your workouts while you were in Europe.” Feeling mischievous, my hand slipped slightly lower and gave a firm squeeze. I nodded in absolute satisfaction. Yep, perfectly toned. He swallowed hard, letting out a low, muffled groan. The veins on the arm holding the spatula bulged against his skin. He looked like he was battling restraint, agony, and pure desire all at once. Realizing I might have played with fire, I tried to make a break for it. Without even turning around, he pinned me with one arm, pulling me back and trapping me completely against his body. My legs were locked against his, our bodies pressed flush together. I could literally feel something burning hot standing at attention, saying a very friendly hello. I froze, terrified to move. He lowered his head, resting his chin on my shoulder. “You need to focus when you’re cooking.” His hot breath tickled my ear, making me shrink my neck. He pressed a soft kiss to the tip of my ear. “Don’t get distracted. You have to make sure both sides get cooked.” He won. I couldn’t out-flirt him, and I ultimately fled the kitchen in defeat. His low, rumbling laughter echoed behind me, making my face burn even hotter. 05 During dinner, he opened a bottle of wine. I chattered away, telling him all about my week. His gaze was soft as water as he watched me. The pure affection in his eyes was completely unguarded. My throat got dry from talking, so I grabbed my glass and downed it in one go. It was a sweet, rich wine, not harsh at all. I smacked my lips. He slowly, elegantly took tiny sips from his own glass. Propping up my dizzy head, I looked at his barely touched plate and frowned in confusion. “Rowan, aren’t you gonna eat?” His eyes sparkled with amusement as he looked at me adoringly, casually replying, “I’ll eat later.” Eat later? Was he planning on having a midnight snack? I groggily picked up my phone. It was 10:30 PM. If I didn’t leave now, I’d miss dorm curfew. I sprang up from the chair, then instantly tipped over. Luckily, he had quick reflexes and caught me by the waist. My vision was blurry. Were the lights always this dim in his living room? My mind was floating, my hands instinctively resting against his solid chest. “Lily?” “Mmhmm?” I hummed softly, looking up at his worried expression and those… incredibly kissable pink lips. They looked so soft. I reached up and touched them. In the dim light, I couldn’t see how dark his eyes had gotten, completely clouded with desire. I could only feel the arm around my waist tightening like a vise. I let out a soft whine, the sound coming out far more delicate and seductive than I intended. That little sound acted like a blade, instantly severing the last string of his self-control. He scooped me into his arms and carried me to the sofa. I clung to him, my body feeling like it had melted into jelly. A torrential storm of kisses rained down on me, catching me completely off guard. I tried to push him back gently, but he caught my hand and pressed a burning kiss to my palm. A shiver wrecked through my body, making my head spin even more. “Rowan.” “Yeah?” “I love you…” “I love you too.” The rest of my words were swallowed up in a kiss overflowing with emotion. He gently but firmly claimed every inch of me. I slowly melted into a puddle. Like a small boat caught in a rising tide, I was tossed to the highest peaks of the waves, only to crash back down. When we finally reached the shore, the little boat had nothing left to give, simply drifting with the current. I clung tightly to his back, crying and begging for mercy. He kissed away my tears, slowing his pace. “Lily, the night is still young.” 06 I have no idea when I fell asleep, but when I woke up, the bed was empty. There was only a sticky note on the nightstand. Lily, I had to run to campus to meet with my advisor. Breakfast is on the table, make sure you eat it. Love you. He’d even drawn a little cartoon dog at the bottom. I couldn’t help but smile. After I washed up and went downstairs, I was halfway through breakfast when the front door opened. I happily ran over and threw my arms around him in a massive hug. Then I grabbed his collar, pulled him down, and planted a huge smooch on his lips. He covered his mouth, a look of pure shock flashing across his eyes. I didn’t notice a thing. I just dragged him to the table, complaining about how intensely we had “battled” last night, completely oblivious to the fact that this wasn’t Rowan. He raised an eyebrow. His dark, ink-black eyes filled with a mix of curiosity and suspicion as he looked at me. After a long pause, a smile finally broke across his face. It was a faint, teasing smirk, playful and a little wicked. The corners of his eyes lifted, and a dangerous glint appeared in his gaze. He reached out, pinched my cheek, and leaned in intimately, practically purring, “Want to go out and do something fun today?” His voice was a magnetic, smooth baritone, with a slight lilt at the end of his sentences. Like a cat flicking the tip of its tail to draw you in. I had never seen “Rowan” act like this. It was pure, intoxicating seduction. As we were heading out, I asked him why his advisor needed to see him. “Probably something about a competition,” he said nonchalantly. I stopped in my tracks and gave him a suspicious look. Realizing he had slipped up, he quickly backtracked, saying his advisor just needed him to fill out some forms for the next project proposal. I linked my arm through his, praising him without a second thought. “I knew my boyfriend was a genius.” “Come on, I’m taking you to the amusement park.” Because I didn’t look up, I completely missed his bright red ears and the guilty, panicked look in his eyes. He looked exactly like a Golden Retriever that had just chewed up your favorite shoes. 07 Tired from walking, we sat down on a bench. He told me to rest while he went to buy some water. I watched his back as he walked away. I felt like “Rowan” was unusually energetic today. Was it just because we were out having fun? I reached into my pocket for my phone, only to realize he had tossed it into his backpack before we left the apartment. 08 “Two bottles of water, please.” Inside Rhys’s pocket, the phone was buzzing non-stop. Looking visibly annoyed, Rhys pulled out the phone encased in a black cat phone case. He tentatively typed in his own birthday. Sure enough, it unlocked effortlessly. The lock screen was a photo of Lily and his brother. Rowan was looking down, his eyes filled with gentle affection for the girl in his arms. Rhys couldn’t explain the feeling in his chest, but it felt suffocating. If anyone had the right to claim her, he had met her before his brother ever did. When he opened her messages, the contact name “6’3, Abs, Capricorn” practically leaped off the screen. Rhys couldn’t help but laugh out loud. Who names their boyfriend that in their phone? [Lily, why aren’t you at the apartment?] [Did you go back to campus?] [My little brother got back yesterday. Do you want to meet him?] [Baby, why aren’t you answering me?] (Cartoon dog sticker) Rhys subconsciously touched his own lips, thinking about the kiss from that morning… Holding a cigarette between his lips, a wicked smile spread through the haze of smoke. With his long fingers, he swiped left on his brother’s messages and hit “Delete.” 09 He handed me the open bottle of water. I immediately caught the scent of tobacco. “Since when do you smoke?” He smoothly spat out a piece of gum, looking completely innocent. “The guy at the concession stand was smoking. I must have caught the smell standing there.” I nodded, then patted the empty space on the bench next to me, motioning for him to sit closer. He hesitated for a second before sliding over. I lifted my wrist and started rubbing it against the skin just behind his ear. He froze, his entire body going rigid. Even the tips of his ears flushed a soft pink. It was adorable. I couldn’t resist pinching his earlobe. At the feeling of skin rubbing against skin, he shivered. He leaned back slightly in shock, his chest rising and falling much faster than before. “Wh-What are you doing?” his voice wavered. I hooked my arm around his neck and pulled him back. He looked down, I looked up, and our eyes locked. His long eyelashes cast a shadow over his flawlessly sharp features, looking like a painting bathed in sunlight. My heart skipped a beat. I swallowed nervously and stammered, “I put on perfume before we left… I was just, um, sharing some with you.” I panicked, broke eye contact, and tried to yank my hand back. The moment I pulled away, he grabbed my wrist and pressed a quick kiss to it. I tried to pull free again, but he just gripped me tighter. He raised an eyebrow, a wicked, amused smile playing on his lips, and leaned in… I slapped a hand over his mouth, my face burning. “Not until tonight.” He frowned, his eyes darkening with an unreadable emotion. Tonight? He wasn’t going to be the one kissing her tonight… He pinned my hands with one arm and crashed his lips onto mine. Suddenly, the phone in his pocket started ringing. It was my ringtone. I pushed against his chest, mumbling incoherently against his lips, “My… my phone… mmph…” His gaze darkened completely. Keeping me pinned, he pulled out the phone and glanced at the screen. Caller ID: [Hubby]. He unceremoniously hit decline. “Spam call.” He cupped the back of my head and deepened the kiss. Afterward, I buried my face in my hands, curled up in his chest, blushing like a boiled lobster. Honestly, if I had just gone back to the apartment with him, I would have realized there was another Rowan waiting for me at home. But the university called an emergency meeting for my major, so I had to head straight back to campus. He saved his phone number in my phone, claiming it was just his secondary work line. After that, it felt like Rowan was spending way more time with me. One day he’d be out of state for an academic conference. The very next day, he’d miraculously appear right by my side to take me out. He took me to restaurants I had casually mentioned liking. Sometimes, though, his memory seemed a little spotty. We’d end up going to the same places twice. I just assumed it was because he really liked the food there, so I never questioned it. Our relationship only got better as the years went on. Until graduation day, our three-year anniversary. “Rowan” proposed to me. With a sparkling gold ring. He hugged me tightly, whispering, “Happy Graduation.” I grinned from ear to ear and hugged him back fiercely. “I love you, Rowan.” I felt his body stiffen slightly. Rowan? Guess it was time to put his cards on the table. He buried his face in my neck and kissed me, hard.

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During our graduation trip, we were playing a game. My boyfriend drew a “Dare” card requiring him to kiss the class queen bee. “It’s just a game, Chloe won’t mind, right?” Then I drew a “Truth” card. “Everyone sitting here tonight is going to die. I will kill you all.” 1 Ethan unrolled the slip of paper in his hand and raised an eyebrow. The light from the campfire danced across his handsome, rebellious features, casting flickering shadows. A half-smile played on his lips. Seeing him stay silent for a long moment, Ben, sitting next to him, grew impatient. “Ethan, what did you get?!” As he spoke, Ben snatched the paper from Ethan’s hand and read it aloud. “Kiss the second girl on your right for five minutes!” The group immediately started hooting and hollering. “The second girl on the right… isn’t that Mia, our class queen bee?!” “Ethan is a lucky guy!” “Not necessarily. What if Mia doesn’t want to?” Mia, who was poking the campfire with a stick, shrugged indifferently. “If it’s a game, we have to follow the rules. I’m not a sore loser. “But Chloe, hey, you don’t mind if I kiss your boyfriend, right?” Everyone’s gaze instantly shifted to me. Feeling embarrassed, I squeezed my fingers together. “I don’t think this is a good idea. How about we just say Ethan forfeits this round, and I’ll drink his penalty.” Saying that, I stood up and walked over to grab a can of beer. According to the rules, anyone who refused to complete a Truth or Dare had to chug a whole can of beer. I was a terrible drinker; even one sip made me flush. But I’d rather get drunk than watch Ethan kiss Mia. Seeing my reaction, the group started whispering, complaining that I was a buzzkill and too uptight to have fun on a trip. Ben curled his lip. “Like I said, you just can’t have fun with a country bumpkin like her.” 2 Before my fingers even touched the beer, my arm was suddenly yanked. Ethan stood beside me, frowning. “Did I tell you to drink?” He reached out, snatched the beer can, effortlessly popped the tab with his index finger, tilted his head back, and took a huge gulp. I breathed a sigh of relief. Ethan still cares about me, right? He won’t kiss Mia, and he doesn’t want me to drink. He won’t put me in a difficult position. Unexpectedly, a soft sobbing sound came from behind us. I turned around to see Mia covering her face, her shoulders shaking. The moment she started crying, the other students immediately started trying to comfort her and guilt-trip Ethan. “Ethan, this is uncool. Aren’t you just hurting her pride?” “Yeah, the girl said she was willing, and you pull this? Where is Mia supposed to hide her face now?” Ethan’s body stiffened. The next second, he tossed the beer can aside, strode over to Mia, and grabbed her arm. Mia was pulled to her feet by Ethan. Her eyes were red and teary, looking like a wronged, innocent little bunny. “What are you doing?” Ethan lowered his head and kissed her. He passed the mouthful of beer he had been holding into her mouth. My brain exploded with a loud boom. A sudden gust of mountain wind hit my back, chilling me to the bone. Mia let out a soft moan and wrapped her arms around Ethan’s neck. The two of them kissed passionately by the campfire while our classmates clapped excitedly. “Damn, that’s intense! Ethan really knows how to play!” Amidst the cheering and applause, I stood frozen in place, utterly lost. My expression was awkward, my limbs stiff, like a pathetic clown who didn’t know where to look. 3 The crowd watched them kiss with great interest. Ben’s mocking gaze swept over me from time to time. “Some people really think too highly of themselves.” “Exactly. Ethan and Mia have known each other since they were kids. Did she really think Ethan could stand to see Mia cry?” “Look, Ethan is even holding her waist. If you ask me, he probably likes Mia deep down.” Their posture was incredibly intimate. Ethan had his arm wrapped tightly around Mia’s waist, and Mia was on her tiptoes, clinging to his neck. They looked as if they wanted to merge into one another. Five minutes later, Ethan finally pulled away. He wiped the corner of his wet mouth with his thumb and smiled. “I just took a sip of beer to wet my whistle. Look how impatient you got.” Mia, breathless and blushing furiously, pounded his chest with her fists. “Ugh! You’re so bad!” Holding hands, they returned to their seats by the campfire. Seeing me still frozen in place, Mia called out to me triumphantly. “Chloe, what are you standing there for? Come back and keep playing.” As she spoke, her gaze shifted from me to Ethan, and she covered her mouth with a laugh. “You’re not actually mad, are you? Don’t take it seriously, Ethan and I are just bros. If anything were really going to happen between us, do you think he’d still be with you?” That exact phrase—not just from Mia, but from Ethan and all his friends—had been said to me countless times. My ears had callous from hearing it. I had transferred to their school in my junior year. This group, revolving around Ethan and Mia, had been close friends since middle school. Mia was the only girl in their tight-knit circle. She was pretty, wealthy, and outspoken. Ethan always insisted she was just “one of the guys.” Since Ethan and I started dating, we rarely had any time alone. He brought them along to every weekend hangout. If he excluded them even once, Mia would accuse him of abandoning his friends for a girl. This graduation trip was no exception. It was originally supposed to be just me and Ethan. But when Mia found out, she dragged this whole gang of misfits along, claiming that since we were graduating, there wouldn’t be many chances to get everyone together, so we had to go as a group. 4 Mia was the one who picked this location, too. The dense, old-growth forests of the Pacific Northwest. Specifically, a remote, rugged area known for vast stretches of untouched wilderness. It was rich in vegetation and rare wildlife, and it even had local legends about a “Wildman” or Bigfoot roaming the woods. Mia loved hiking and adventure. I, on the other hand, was timid and preferred the bustling energy of big cities. When we were picking a destination, Ethan saw a picture of this forest and immediately swiped past it. I nodded in agreement. “Yeah, let’s not go into the deep woods. It scares me.” Hearing that, Mia immediately swiped back to the picture. “Ethan, let’s go here. We’ve all grown up in the city. Aren’t you bored of it yet? We should go explore the mountains and experience nature.” As soon as she spoke, Ben chimed in to agree, saying cities were boring and only country bumpkins wanted to squeeze into them. Ethan nodded. “Alright, we’ll go to the forest.” There wasn’t much entertainment out in the mountains. After setting up camp that night, it was Mia who suggested playing Truth or Dare. Everyone wrote a prompt on a piece of paper, threw them in a pile, and took turns drawing. Seeing me sitting there silently with my lips pressed together, Mia looked frustrated, as if she were about to cry. “Is it because I suggested the game that you don’t want to play? Chloe, do you really hate me that much?” Ethan patted her hand comfortingly, then turned to glare at me. “Chloe, don’t be a buzzkill. Come sit down.” 5 Everyone’s eyes were fixed on me. It was already 10:00 PM. The mountain forest was pitch black, and the cold wind howled, gust after gust, making the campfire flicker wildly. Seeing my lack of cooperation, Ethan’s expression grew even uglier. “If you don’t want to hang out with us, then get lost.” Ethan had a terrible temper. When he got angry, he didn’t care about anyone’s feelings. Once, he drove me to the suburbs to go camping. Following the GPS, we took several wrong turns and ended up on a dead-end dirt road. I told him the GPS was wrong and suggested we get out and ask a local for directions. He insisted it was right. After a brief argument, he suddenly lost his temper. While I was out of the car asking for directions, he slammed on the gas and drove off, leaving me behind. It was almost dark, and he abandoned me in a strange, rural area. My phone and bag were still in his car. I walked for a long time before I finally met a kind older woman who helped me call my dad. Knowing his personality, if I made him angry now, he would very likely pack up the rest of his friends and leave, abandoning me in this deep, remote forest. Helpless, I had no choice but to walk over and sit on Ethan’s right side. Ethan chuckled lightly. “That’s better. Good girl.” Saying that, he patted me on the head twice, like he was coaxing a puppy. The game continued. I drew a slip of paper, unfolded it, and read it by the firelight: “Tell everyone a secret.” It was a “Truth.” I tossed the paper into the campfire. Looking up, I slowly surveyed the circle of faces. In an incredibly slow, deliberate tone, I enunciated every word: “Tonight… everyone sitting here… is going to die.” 6 The mountain wind grew fiercer. The burning wood crackled, sending sparks flying and illuminating the faces gathered around the fire. Their relaxed, smiling faces froze, stiffening instantly. After a long pause, Mia finally let out a shriek. She scrambled backward, shrinking into Ethan’s arms, her eyes wide with anger. “Chloe, what kind of nonsense are you spouting?! “We’re just playing a game, why are you randomly cursing people?! If you’re mad at me, just say it, but saying everyone is going to die? You’re too vicious!” The others quickly joined in, criticizing me from all sides. But Ethan just raised an eyebrow, a lopsided smirk forming on his lips. “Oh? We’re all going to die?” He seemed highly amused. Pushing Mia away, he sat up straight. “How are we going to die? Give us the details.” “Ethan, why are you engaging with her?!” Mia, clearly displeased, pinched Ethan’s thigh hard. “She’s crazy. I told you from the start to stay away from her. These girls from the sticks have something wrong with their heads, just like that Lin—cough, cough!” Mia cut herself off mid-sentence, covering her mouth and coughing dryly. She pinched Ethan again, whining playfully. “Anyway, you’re not allowed to encourage her.” Ethan hissed slightly and grabbed Mia’s hand. “Princess, where are you touching? Dare to go a little higher?” Mia’s hand had originally been near Ethan’s knee. When he leaned back, her hand naturally slid up, her fingers nearly brushing his upper thigh. Her face turned bright red. She changed her pinch to a fist and pounded his chest thump, thump. “You are the absolute worst!” The two of them flirted and wrestled without a care in the world. Ethan caught Mia’s fists, pulling her tightly against his chest, and looked at me as if nothing had happened. “Keep going, Chloe. Tell us why we’re going to die. “If you can’t come up with a good reason—” The smile vanished from Ethan’s face. His eyes narrowed slightly, a cold glint in his pupils. “You know I don’t like it when people talk nonsense.” Across the campfire, the two of them sat intimately entwined. Ethan’s arm was wrapped tightly around Mia’s waist, and she leaned back against his chest, practically sitting on his lap. The stinging light of the fire burned my eyes. I offered a self-deprecating smile and looked away. “You guys have heard the legends of the ‘Wildman’ in these woods, right?” I sighed and lowered my voice. “It’s not a legend. My grandmother is from a village deep in this forest.” 7 My grandmother lived in a remote place called Dragon’s Creek. When I was six, after my parents divorced, my mother brought me back to the village, dumped me there, and left to find work in the city by herself. My grandmother was a fierce, fiery little old lady. She hated my mother for ignoring her advice and running off with a useless deadbeat. She didn’t treat me well either. She gave me just enough food to keep me alive and completely ignored everything else. My aunt was always giving me attitude too, calling me a freeloader and a burden. Every summer, she would call my mom asking for money. When my mom refused, my aunt would stamp her feet, scream obscenities into the phone, and threaten to sell me. My mom’s lazy drawl would come through the phone: “Selling a person is a felony. You try selling her, and I’ll call the cops.” “Felony? You work in the city for a few years and think you’re a city slicker now? What did I even do? Call the cops, I dare you! I’d like to see who they arrest—you, the tramp who abandons her kid to whore around with men in the city, or me!” The two of them would scream at each other over the phone. Furious, my aunt would grab a piece of firewood from the stove and start beating me. I would scream in agony. My aunt would raise her thin eyebrows, looking incredibly smug. “You hear that?! Linda, if you don’t send money, I’ll beat your daughter to death.” My mom would just laugh indifferently. “Go ahead and beat her. If she dies, you go to prison and get the death penalty. Pong! Hey, I called Pong on that! Give me that Three of Circles back.” Infuriated, my aunt would pin me down and beat me even harder. Until her anger subsided, she forbade anyone in the house from giving me food. When I got too hungry, I had no choice but to go up the mountain to forage for wild berries. And that was where I encountered the Wildman for the first time. 8 I still remember, that day was incredibly hot. This area was at a high elevation. Normally, once night fell, the air in the mountains should have been quite cool. But that night, the entire village felt like it was trapped in a steamer. Heat radiated from the ground. I lay on a straw mat, my empty stomach burning with hunger. My back was scalding hot, my whole body felt like it was on fire, and the little energy I had left was rapidly evaporating. Acid constantly welled up in my mouth. Unable to bear the hunger any longer, I got up, put on my shoes, and prepared to head to the back mountain to pick some wild fruit. During the summer, the mountain had wild kiwis, wild grapes, and a fruit we called “August Burst.” This oval-shaped fruit ripens and bursts open in August; the flesh tastes like a mix of banana and ice cream, incredibly refreshing. The few spots on the back mountain where they grew were constantly monitored by the village kids and had been picked clean long ago. I had to venture deeper. Normally, I would never dare go up the mountain late at night. But when a person reaches the absolute limit of starvation, when the brain is entirely controlled by an empty stomach, fear ceases to exist. I walked through the forest with a flashlight, stumbling with every other step. I couldn’t even remember how many times I fell. Suddenly, a bizarre, eerie cry echoed from ahead. I had heard the adults say there were feral wolves, wild boars, and even black bears on the mountain, and they all ate people. Trembling with fear, I quickly switched off my flashlight and scrambled up a large tree nearby. The moon was very bright that night. The strange cries drew closer and closer, stopping right beneath my tree. “And then what happened?” Ben, completely absorbed in the story, couldn’t help but interrupt. I shrank my neck, pulled my blanket tighter around me, and gestured with my hands. “I saw a section of intestines, about this long. At least ten or twelve feet. “Fresh intestines, still dripping with slimy fluids, radiating an incredibly strong, foul stench. The end of the intestine was tied into a loop, like a lasso.” I paused, my voice trembling. “A massive Wildman, its face and body covered in black hair, looked up at me and smiled. “It swung the intestines in its hand, instantly looping them around my neck, and yanked hard. I was ripped right out of the tree.” 9 The moment the words left my mouth, a cold, slimy rope suddenly dropped around Ben’s neck. The rope jerked backward. Ben’s eyes widened in sheer terror, and he let out a blood-curdling, agonizing scream. He tumbled to the ground, thrashing and wailing desperately. “Help! Wildman! A Wildman is trying to kill me—” Everyone else burst into hysterical laughter. Mia collapsed into Ethan’s arms, laughing so hard she had to wipe tears from her eyes. “Oh my god, Ben, look at what a coward you are! Hahaha—” Ben opened his eyes in bewilderment. Marcus stood over him, one hand in his pocket, swinging a climbing rope in the other. “Hahahaha! Ben, you are such a wimp. You got scared that easily by Chloe’s little story? Did you pee your pants? Let me check.” Saying that, he went to kick Ben in the crotch. Ben, flushed with anger and embarrassment, covered his crotch. “Fuck off!” Marcus was a sports scholarship student. He was half a head taller than Ethan, built like a tank, with a violent temper and a love for pranks. However, his family was ordinary, and his dad worked for Ethan’s dad’s company. So, around Ethan, he was always very well-behaved, constantly calling him “Boss Ethan.” To everyone else, he wasn’t nearly as polite. Ben didn’t dare take his anger out on Marcus, so he directed all his fury at me. He jumped up from the ground and aggressively rolled up his sleeves. “Dammit, you stupid bitch, do you have a death wish?!” Ben raised his arm, preparing to strike me. “That’s enough!” Ethan interrupted him with a laugh. “I actually think this game is getting interesting. Keep going, Chloe. The Wildman caught you. Then what?”

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As graduation approached and it was time to settle the cohort dues, I stared at the message in the group chat: [Cohort Fund Balance: $368.60] I fell into a deep silence. Since freshman year, all fifty of us in the business cohort had paid $500 annually in chapter dues. We even bought our own textbooks out of pocket. How could there be almost nothing left? Liam, our Cohort President, sent another message: [We would never embezzle the cohort funds. Every single transaction is recorded.] But a few seconds later, he unsent it. Everyone in the chat started shouting, demanding to see the ledger. That was when my roommate, Chloe—our VP of Academics—started to panic. 1 I was just about to lie down for a nap. A notification popped up in our cohort’s GroupMe: [Cohort Fund Balance: $368.60] All the sleepiness vanished from my body. I jumped out of bed. I stared hard at the screen, analyzing those three digits, the decimal, and the change, completely lost in thought. We had been paying these dues since freshman year. Four years, $500 a person, fifty students in the cohort. That was $100,000 total. Even our daily class materials and textbooks were bought with our own money. How on earth was there only three hundred bucks left? Immediately, classmates began raising questions, asking Liam if his math was wrong. Liam sent another message: [We would never embezzle the cohort funds. Every single transaction is recorded.] Some fast-typing classmates immediately tagged him, demanding to see the expense sheet. A minute later, the screen showed: Liam unsent a message. At first, I breathed a sigh of relief, thinking he really had just miscalculated the total. I was already daydreaming about how to spend my cut of the massive refund. But then I looked closer. Liam hadn’t unsent the balance. He had unsent the second message. Meaning, after four years and $100,000, our collective fund really was sitting at a pathetic $368.60. The group chat absolutely exploded. 2 Noah, the designated chatterbox of our cohort, was the first to tag the President. [Liam, how did you get $368.60? Did you put the decimal in the wrong place?] [Stop trolling us, man! Everyone’s waiting for that refund so we can be rich for a week!] Other classmates chimed in: [Even with a misplaced decimal, it should be way more than that, right?] Noah then led the charge, demanding to see the official ledger for the cohort’s expenses. Back when we first collected the dues freshman year, Advisor Davis had sworn to us: “The use of the cohort funds will be entirely public and transparent.” She handed full control of the money over to us students. To ensure everything was tracked, she even made Liam open a specific, separate bank account just for the cohort dues. It was supposed to keep the money safe, leave a paper trail, and allow for quick audits. So Noah’s request to see the ledger wasn’t out of line at all. It was perfectly reasonable. I chimed in and sent: [I want to see the ledger too +1.] Liam quickly replied: [Still organizing the spreadsheet. Please wait.] Didn’t they say we could check the accounts at any time? Besides, he had already announced the $368.60 balance, which meant he had obviously already run the numbers. I glanced over and noticed my roommate, Chloe—the VP of Academics and Liam’s girlfriend—sitting at her desk with her brows knitted tightly together. I patted her shoulder. “Chloe, there’s no way our fund only has three hundred bucks left. Don’t stress. Your boyfriend probably just made a spreadsheet error. He just needs to clarify it with everyone.” She hesitated for a second before forcing a smile. “Yeah, exactly.” But I could see the panic in her eyes growing stronger. An hour passed. Liam still hadn’t posted the itemized ledger. I sent a message to the group: [Liam, is the itemized list ready yet?] The very next second, I was hit with a one-hour mute from the group admin. Seeing the mute notification, Chloe walked over to me and defended her boyfriend. “Emma, Liam has a lot on his plate managing the cohort. Don’t push him so hard. It disrupts his ability to serve the students.” I mentally gave her a standing ovation for her breathtaking double standards. When Chloe and Liam got into a fight a few months ago, she stayed up until 2 AM loudly arguing with him on the phone for three hours straight. The entire dorm couldn’t sleep. As her roommate, all I could do was comfort her and try to calm her down. The next day, when they made up, Liam somehow blamed me for their argument. Then there was the group project incident. We were less than an hour away from the Canvas submission deadline. Our entire dorm group was just waiting on Chloe to finish her section. I urged her to hurry up. Instead, she snapped at me: “I’m the VP of Academics! I’m close with the professor. It doesn’t matter if we submit it a little late.” The rest of us sat in stunned silence as she spent an entire hour doing a full face of flawless makeup at her vanity. Then we watched her leave the dorm looking gorgeous to go on a date with Liam. The result? We missed the submission window. Our group got a flat zero. But Chloe? She used her administrative access to adjust the peer-evaluation scores, secretly giving herself maximum participation points. She ended up passing the class with flying colors. The three of us took the zero, but since we had high grades otherwise, we didn’t fail the course. Since she was our roommate, we swallowed our anger and didn’t report her. And now, I simply asked a question in the group chat… And I was branded as “disrupting the busy President from serving the students.” What a joke. 3 Three hours later, Liam finally sent a few pictures to the group. It was a piece of notebook paper covered in chicken scratch, listing the total expenses over the last four years. The chat lit up immediately: [I knew it! It was just a math error. There’s no way Liam would embezzle our money.] [Exactly. We paid $100,000 total. There’s no universe where only $300 is left.] But then, Noah cropped the bottom of Liam’s photo and sent it to the chat: [Remaining Balance: $386.60.] So after three hours of “auditing,” the balance hadn’t gone up a single cent? Chloe, acting as the loyal girlfriend and VP, immediately turned on the “Admin Only” messaging restriction. She sent a long paragraph: [Every penny is accounted for. We would never steal from our classmates. If you want to see the detailed itemized spreadsheet, DM me privately.] Me: ? So those scribbled photos posted in the chat were just the “rough draft”? This couple really had a system going. The guy posts a messy, illegible handwritten note, while the girl hoards the actual detailed spreadsheet. If they ever broke up, handing over the cohort documents would require an escrow service. I DMed Chloe: [Can you send me a copy of the detailed ledger?] She turned around, smiling sweetly, and linked her arm through mine. “Of course! Sending it now. Perks of being roommates, right? Our dorm always gets the inside scoop first.” Huh? I sat in silence. A moment later, a file popped up in our dorm’s private group chat. This “detailed” ledger didn’t clarify Liam’s messy notes at all. In fact, it was stuffed with bizarre, inexplicable charges. Even Mia, the roommate who usually got along best with Chloe, gasped out loud. “What?! $20,000 for the Spring Gala props?! Were they made of solid gold?” “Wait, why is there a $2,500 charge for the Business Ethics Certification Exam for 50 people? Half of us never even registered for that!” Chloe’s face shifted. She forced a laugh and quickly explained: “Those categories also include Advisor Davis’s travel stipends and catering costs. I just bundled them together to make the math easier.” I was even more stunned. Advisor Davis needed our cohort funds for her personal travel? Bundled for convenience? Since when is accounting done by mashing random expenses together? Since dozens of classmates were furious and demanding the detailed list, I simply downloaded the spreadsheet and forwarded it directly into the main cohort GroupMe. Chloe glared at me, her voice dripping with annoyance. “Why did you put that in the main chat?” I replied casually, “Everyone wanted to see it. You and Liam are so incredibly busy serving the students, I figured I’d help lighten your workload.” Since freshman year, Chloe had always tried to “buy” our loyalty with petty favors. She’d give us a heads-up on pop quizzes or casually delay telling the rest of the cohort about lucrative internship opportunities so we could apply first. Through shady tactics like that, she wiped out half her academic competition. Her title as “VP of Academics” was nothing more than a tool for personal profit. Three minutes later, Noah broke the silence in the group chat. 4 [Wait, the CPR Certification fee is $50. $50 times 50 people is $2,500. Why is this charged to the cohort fund?] [Didn’t we all Venmo the Treasurer separately out of our own pockets for that exam?] As soon as Noah pointed it out, other classmates started posting screenshots of their old Venmo transactions. The chat was instantly flooded with payment receipts. [Yeah! I literally Venmoed Liam directly for this. Why is it being deducted from the communal fund again?] Liam hurried to do damage control: [It was a long time ago. It might be a clerical error. We definitely spent that money, I just might have logged it under the wrong category name.] A wall of question marks materialized in the chat. [Insert meme of confused old man looking at his phone.] I typed: [So you double-charged us?] Liam deleted my message at lightning speed. He was so fast I genuinely wondered if my Wi-Fi had glitched. Liam rapidly started typing out new, fabricated expense categories to cover the gaps. Everyone was stressed with graduation right around the corner. The only reason people were even active in the chat was because of the refund money. To a broke college senior, getting back a slice of a $100,000 pie is life-changing money. Noah then dropped a screen-recorded video of himself doing a line-by-line audit of the spreadsheet. In the video, he said: “There’s a flat $5,000 withdrawal here with no receipt, and a $1,212 ‘tech fee’ that literally makes no sense.” Someone else asked: [If the math is this bad, where did all the missing money actually go?] The uproar grew deafening. In just ten minutes, the chat hit 999+ notifications. Liam finally sent one ominous message: [Noah, DM me right now.] 5 Gradually, the group chat fell silent. When I came back from grabbing lunch, Chloe was hunched over her desk, furiously writing. I looked closer. She was manually recalculating the cohort funds. Didn’t she say the math was already finalized? Why was she crossing things out with white-out? Then I witnessed a masterclass in fraud—she quietly deleted the $1,212 tech fee. Then she added $602 to “Tailgate Supplies.” And bumped up the “Spring Gala” budget by another $610. I watched her operate in pure awe. She was a prodigy at cooking the books! Noticing me, she smiled smoothly and explained: “There were a few minor discrepancies earlier. But it’s all fixed now! The ledger is perfectly balanced, every penny matches up.” “As long as it balances,” I replied flatly. “Everyone is just waiting for the final, accurate version.” I opened GroupMe. Strangely, Noah—our resident chatterbox—had completely vanished from the conversation. The chat had returned to its usual dead silence. Later that afternoon, I bumped into Noah on campus. I stopped him and asked: “Why so quiet all of a sudden?” He laughed awkwardly, lowering his voice. “You know how it is. Graduation is coming up. Too busy. No time to check group chats.” Was that the truth? I walked with him to the dining hall and we sat in a quiet corner. I whispered, “Did Liam threaten you? “If he did, just nod.” Noah shook his head aggressively like a rattle. Then, he gave two very heavy, deliberate nods. He didn’t want to get into the details, and I didn’t press him. It was exactly on-brand for that toxic power couple. Back in our junior year, Liam and Chloe had entered a National Business Case Competition. A classmate discovered they had blatantly plagiarized their winning presentation. At the end of the semester, Liam and Chloe used their authority to tank that classmate’s peer-review scores to the absolute minimum. The poor guy was forced to retake the entire course. If you can’t solve the problem, just eliminate the person pointing it out. Before leaving, Noah looked deeply conflicted. “Emma, just let it go. We’re about to graduate. He’s the President, his girlfriend is the VP. It’s not worth the fight.” I nodded and waved goodbye. When I opened TikTok later, a familiar image popped up on my For You page. Someone had leaked our cohort’s spreadsheet! The creator captioned it: [This is my college cohort’s expense ledger. Can you guys help me spot the red flags?] There were already hundreds of comments. The internet sleuths immediately tore the ledger apart. Everyone agreed the remaining balance was completely fabricated and the missing funds had to be massive. By the time I got back to my dorm, the video had been taken down for “violating community guidelines.” I had to marvel at Liam’s speed. He worked fast. Behind me, Chloe was texting so fast her thumbs were a blur. “Chloe, who are you talking to?” I asked. She glanced over her shoulder. “Just my mom. Talking about graduation stuff.” But the profile picture on her screen was unmistakably Liam’s. I took a screenshot of the deleted TikTok post and dropped it into the group chat. Less than five minutes later, Liam privately messaged me, demanding I come downstairs for a “talk.” I found a furious Liam waiting outside the dorm building. “Emma, how could you post internal cohort documents on the internet? “Delete it immediately. If you have a problem, you bring it to me directly.” I pulled out my phone and played an audio comment someone had left on the video: “Why is there a $6,000 catering fee for five people? Did they eat gold-leaf steaks at a diner…” Before the audio finished, Liam snatched the phone out of my hand and started furiously tapping my screen. He used so much force he nearly knocked me over. I rubbed my bruised arm as he stepped back, creating distance between us. After ensuring the post was deleted from my phone, he reluctantly handed it back. His eyes were dark and menacing as he lowered his voice: “You really need to stop sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong. You wouldn’t want anything to happen to your diploma in June, would you?” 6 A smart woman knows when not to fight a losing battle. I took my phone, muttered a quick goodbye, and walked away. What he didn’t realize was that his little physical altercation had been captured in crisp HD by the dorm’s security cameras. When I got back to the room, Chloe saw my slightly shaken expression and immediately handed me a Starbucks iced latte, playing the sweet peacemaker. “Emma, my boyfriend has a terrible temper, but he doesn’t mean any harm. Just ignore him.” With everyone swamped with graduation prep, the chatter about the refunds began to fade. The topic even shifted completely when someone in the chat started congratulating Liam and Chloe for surviving four years of college as a couple. People were praising them as the “perfect campus sweethearts.” The legendary romance between the President and the VP started all the way back in our freshman year. Back then, Chloe had caught a lot of attention for her flawless makeup and trendy outfits. Liam, as President, was assigned to hand-deliver some administrative paperwork with her. After a few trips to the Dean’s office together, they grew close. One sunny afternoon, Chloe returned to the dorm looking incredibly flushed and giddy. She squealed, announcing they were officially dating. From that day on, our dorm became ground zero for all her relationship drama and complaining. But that wasn’t even the worst part. During our sophomore year, there was a notoriously strict Ethics professor who called roll personally. When he called Liam’s name, the class murmured that he wasn’t there. The professor sighed and asked the VP of Academics to take over roll call. The class erupted into laughter. They informed the professor that the VP wasn’t there either. Just as the professor was getting confused, someone shouted: “The President took the VP out for bottomless brunch!” The professor nodded and marked them absent. This professor was infamous for failing students over attendance. We all thought Liam and Chloe were doomed. Then, a miracle happened. At the end of the semester, both of them had perfect attendance scores, and their final grades were a sparkling ‘A’. The dark magic behind that grade change was an open secret. After they started dating, Chloe ditched her “girl-next-door” aesthetic entirely. She rebranded as a hypebeast fashionista. Prada bags, limited-edition Dior lipsticks, rare designer perfumes—you name it, she had it. Where did the missing cohort funds go? Looking back now, her sudden influx of wealth that completely mismatched her actual financial background definitely had something to do with our missing money. 7 A few days later, Advisor Davis finally spoke up in the group chat: [The cohort funds are entirely student-managed. Please direct all refund inquiries to Liam.] I instantly typed: [Professor Davis, could we get a PDF of the actual bank statements for the cohort’s debit account?] Dozens of classmates immediately echoed the request. Advisor Davis replied: [Liam, please upload the statements for the students.] Liam immediately sent me a threatening DM, telling me to remember what he said outside the dorm. After all, the last guy he threatened (Noah) had been silenced completely. But I had put up with them for four years. Now, they were playing dumb with our money. This time, I wasn’t backing down. What was wrong with defending the money I paid out of my own pocket? Under pressure from the Advisor, Liam reluctantly uploaded screenshots of the bank statements to the group. The statements clearly showed the exact timestamps of every massive withdrawal. Some eagle-eyed classmates quickly realized that the dates of the massive expenditures perfectly aligned with the exact days Chloe showed up to class flaunting new designer items. The chat exploded into a forensic investigation: [Wait, that May 20th withdrawal for $4,820… isn’t that the exact retail price of that Chanel bag in this pic? attaches photo] [Hold up, what about that $3,700 charge? Didn’t Liam start wearing those limited-edition Dior sneakers the very next week?] The horrifying truth dawned on everyone: Liam had been using our cohort’s bank account as his personal debit card! Everyone finally knew exactly where the $100,000 went. [Liam, are you gonna say something?!] [You were our President for four years! Explain yourself, we still want to give you the benefit of the doubt!] Seeing the outrage, Advisor Davis ordered Liam to give the cohort a proper explanation. Liam went radio silent. Meanwhile, back in the dorm, Chloe’s face was ashen. She was frantically shoving her designer bags into the deepest corners of her closet. Clearly, the internet detectives had hit the nail on the head. She looked at me in a pure panic, stammering: “D-don’t get the wrong idea! I bought these bags with my own money! It has nothing to do with Liam!” I gave her a slow, deliberate nod. “Oh.” I hadn’t asked a single question, yet she had essentially confessed to everything. The uproar in the group chat reached a boiling point. Chloe quickly fired off a message to the group: [We are currently verifying every single transaction. If there are any mistakes, we will refund the missing amounts out of our own pockets!] I was actually looking forward to seeing what kind of creative accounting this Bonnie and Clyde duo would attempt next. 8 Surprisingly, two days later, Chloe wasn’t panicking at all. She was lounging on her bed, casually scrolling through TikTok. Meanwhile, I noticed two expensive bottles of perfume sitting on my desk that definitely didn’t belong to me. As I stared at them in confusion, I saw Chloe actively typing into the shared Google Doc ledger: [Emma’s Spring Gala Perfume Expense: $250.] While I was processing that, I glanced over and saw several performance outfits draped over Mia’s chair. They were the exact same outfits Chloe had worn during the sports festival last year. Seeing that Mia and our other roommate had returned, Chloe locked the dorm door and lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper: “Guys, the ledger is a little messy right now. Since we’re roommates, I need a favor. Just claim these items as your expenses. “You guys can keep the stuff as a gift.” Mia and I exchanged bewildered looks. When they were living large, we didn’t see a dime. Now that the feds were closing in, we were supposed to be accomplices? She was trying to drag the entire dorm down with her to muddy the waters! “Chloe, I don’t think this is a good idea. We never used this stuff. Giving it to us now doesn’t change anything,” Mia said hesitantly. Chloe practically shoved the clothes into Mia’s arms. “It’s fine, just do me this favor! If you see anything else you like in my closet, just take it.” The other roommate eventually caved and agreed to follow her “arrangement.” When Chloe turned to me, trying to pin a $2,000 fraudulent expense on my name, I held my hands up and backed away. “Leave me out of this. I don’t know anything about it.” Hearing this, Chloe’s face twisted in fury. She pointed a manicured finger right at my nose and screamed: “I’ve been your roommate for four years! Do you have any idea how many perks you got because of me? Now that we hit a little bump in the road, you won’t even help out? “How can you be so selfish?! Do you really want to make things ugly right before graduation?” I was genuinely stunned by her sheer delusion. Did she actually think that pinning fake expenses on her roommates would convince the rest of the cohort? Did she think that legally absolved her of stealing $100,000? In her twisted mind, I was the ungrateful villain. It was laughable. I slammed my hand onto my desk, making sure everyone in the room could hear me loud and clear. “What perks?! You waking me up at 2 AM with your screaming matches? “Or how about when you begged me to buy you breakfast, then changed your mind, leaving me to pay for two meals? “Or was the ‘perk’ when you refused to do your part of the group project, earning me the only flat zero of my college career?!” Having her hypocritical mask ripped off, Chloe’s face turned beet red with rage. We didn’t speak another word to each other. Later, while walking out of the campus gates, I spotted Liam. Driven by curiosity, I glanced in his direction—and witnessed something explosive. The girl he was holding hands and laughing with was not Chloe! The cohort’s legendary “campus sweethearts” were officially a sham.

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