Author: Momo Chan

1 Amy had lost her memory, every trace of me erased. Her mind was stuck in the year she loved her ex-husband most. No matter how much everyone around her pleaded, she remained convinced that I was the one who had come between them. The doctors offered a glimmer of hope for her memory, and I clung to it, refusing to let go. Three years. We divorced, then remarried. It became a well-known joke throughout the whole of New York society, people even placing bets. They wagered on when I’d finally give up, and when Amy would finally remember. Until the news of our eighth divorce hit the tabloids again. Reporters, cameras poised, stormed into my law firm. They shoved microphones in my face, their voices laced with provocation. “Mr. Covington, as a divorce attorney, you’ve been divorced eight times yourself. Any thoughts on that?” My firm’s nameplate had been vandalized, and the commendation plaques I’d earned were trampled underfoot. Before I could even respond, my boss fired me, citing damage to the firm’s reputation. “Larry, take some advice. Have some self-respect. Stop hounding Ms. Amy Vance.” My hand trembled as I clenched it, and a sudden wave of exhaustion washed over me. They were right. This time, I really should give up. … It was pouring rain when I left the firm. Clutching a box from my desk, I walked home in a daze. The front door hadn’t been fully shut, and I could hear Amy and Julian’s laughter drifting out occasionally. I glanced around. The living room was a mess, clothes scattered everywhere, the rug stained… The TV news still played the day’s firm drama on a loop. Amy’s smile faded a little when she saw me. “Still have the nerve to come back?” Her sarcastic words cut through the air, clear and sharp. Julian chuckled, kissing the corner of Amy’s lips. “Alright, you two were together for seven years. Let’s keep some decorum.” He then looked up, raising an eyebrow at me, his smile suggestive. “It’s Amy’s ovulation day today. She really wanted me. You don’t mind, do you?” Rainwater dripped from my hair, landing on the floor, one drop at a time. A surge of weariness washed over me. I didn’t look at the two undressed figures on the couch, turning instead towards the bedroom. But when I pushed the door open, I froze. “Oh, right, I forgot to tell you.” Amy’s voice was casual. “This house is also registered under my mother’s name. It has nothing to do with you. I threw all your stuff out.” She paused, then added, “Probably still in the trash can by the street.” Amy’s lips curved upwards, a jacket loosely draped over her. She leaned against the wall, watching me. It was as if seeing me in such a state brought her immense joy. A sharp pain shot through my chest. My soaked shirt made me shiver with cold. “You bought today’s trending topic too, didn’t you?” I demanded, my voice raw. “We’re already divorced. Why did you have to make me lose my job?” In response to my question, Amy simply raised her hand and swiped, knocking the box out of my hands. Documents and papers scattered across the floor. They were the fruits of nearly seven years of my work. “Three years of pestering me isn’t enough? Even if I really did have something with you before, I have amnesia now.” Her voice was cold, dismissive. “I’ve forgotten you, which means you mean absolutely nothing to me!” Those words, undoubtedly, ripped open old wounds. Three years ago, her sudden amnesia had erased everything about me. Just the day before she lost her memory, she’d told me she was pregnant. She’d dragged me excitedly to decorate the nursery, dreaming of whether it would be a boy or a girl. But then she forgot. She only remembered Julian. She’d terminated our child, and even undergone a hymen repair for Julian. “You just forgot! You have no idea what Julian did back then…” Anguish and fury threatened to consume me. Amy’s face turned ashen. She grabbed my arm fiercely and shoved me out the door. The heavy rain instantly drenched me again. “I don’t care what Julian did,” she declared, her voice ringing with finality. “I only remember that I love him, and that’s all that matters.” I opened my mouth, but all my questions and grievances suddenly felt meaningless. Amy irritably avoided my gaze, then reached up and tugged off her wedding ring. The edge of the diamond scratched her finger. She threw the ring at my feet, slamming the door shut as she yelled, “Don’t be so pathetic, begging me to remarry you!” I stood there for a long time, then finally crouched down and picked up the wedding ring. Amy had designed it herself before we got married. She’d worn it for seven years, never taking it off. By the roadside trash can, I saw our shattered wedding photos, the scarf she had knitted for me with her own hands, and all the photo albums filled with our memories. My phone suddenly rang. I looked at the caller ID and answered. Amy’s mother’s excited voice came through. “Larry, I just got Amy’s medical report! The doctor said her memory is starting to loosen up. If she continues treatment, there’s an eighty percent chance she’ll recover!” My knuckles turned white as I gripped the phone. The “good” I wanted to say died in my throat. Finally, I whispered, “Mom, no more treatment. Let her forget. It’s better that way.” The next day, I went to the Vance family estate. I laid the eight divorce certificates before Amy’s mother. “Mom, Amy and I are divorced again.” Amy’s mother looked at me with pity, then sighed deeply. “Amy has truly wronged you. You two were so happy back then.” She pushed a business card towards me, her eyes filled with hope. “But this time it’s really different. I’ve contacted several doctors, and they all say the chances of recovery are high.” She pleaded, “I’m getting old, Mom just wants you two to have a good life together. She’s also been remembering a lot of things from before…” Her persuasion was cut short by my interruption. “But she’s never remembered anything about me.” I lowered my head, avoiding her pitying gaze. The atmosphere grew silent until she spoke again. “If you leave, and Amy remembers you but can’t find you, she’ll go mad.” For three years, every time we divorced, Amy’s mother would say those exact words. And every time, because of those words, I would soften, remarrying again and again. Before I could reply, there was a commotion at the entrance. Amy strode in, high heels clacking, carrying several shopping bags. Her brows immediately furrowed when she saw me. “Larry, are you here to complain to my mother again?” she sneered. “I already kicked you out. Why are you still haunting me? Can’t you really live without me?” Amy’s mother’s chest heaved with anger. She abruptly stood up, raised her hand, and slapped Amy hard across the face. “Have you caused enough trouble? How much more do you intend to push Larry? If it weren’t for him, you wouldn’t be alive right now!” I sat on the sofa, my hands clenched into fists. My mind drifted back seven years. Her marriage to Julian had been a nightmare. Julian had reveled in all her love, but secretly, he had other women. His infidelity had turned her into a laughingstock among the socialites overnight. When she’d gone to confront him, Julian had sold her private photos at an auction, absconded with ten million dollars, and vanished. After that, Amy fell into a deep depression. I was the one who saved her when she tried to jump into the river. “So what? All he wanted was money.” Amy stubbornly looked at her mother. “I don’t care what Julian did back then. I just love him, and I can’t love anyone else.” She added with defiant conviction, “And I won’t regret it.” Amy’s mother instantly looked as if all the strength had been drained from her. She turned back to me, her eyes filled with apology. Amy rubbed her temples, then finally looked up, as if in reluctant compromise. “Okay, Arthur. If you want to remarry, fine. We’ll just divorce again later, and you’ll be the one who looks foolish, not me.” Her voice dripped with disdain. “If you can’t live without me, let’s go to the registry office now.” She added, a cruel smile playing on her lips, “This would be your eighth divorce, wouldn’t it?” I forced a faint smile. I couldn’t reconcile the woman before me with the Amy I remembered. “I came here to clarify things with Mom, that’s all.” I looked directly at Amy. “You’re free, Amy.” Amy froze, her hand, hanging at her side, trembled imperceptibly. She stared at me, astonished, then quickly regained her composure. “Playing hard to get, huh? Too bad it won’t work on me.” She scoffed, “Fine. You said it. Just don’t come crawling back to me again.” Amy bit out the words, almost snarling. Ignoring her mother’s protests, she threw her bags to the floor and stormed out. Amy’s mother’s eyes went dark with fury. She yelled after Amy’s retreating figure, “You’ll regret this, I promise you!”

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The outdoor temperature hit 95°F, and our dorm room felt like a sauna. “It’s too hot,” I suggested, “let’s turn on the AC.” Claire, lounging on her bed in just her underwear, panting, shrugged indifferently. “I’m not hot.” Mia, wiping buckets of sweat with a pile of tissues that filled a small trash bin, pulled her jacket tighter. “I’m a little cold, actually.” Adrian, chugging iced lemonade, looked up. “If you want it on, go ahead.” I set the thermostat to 79°F and sighed in relief as the cool air started to circulate. A month later, Claire sent me a bill. “The electricity bill is $200 this month. You should pay it.” … Returning to the dorm, it felt like stepping into a walk-in freezer. I rubbed the goosebumps on my arms and silently turned the temperature back up to 79°F. Soon after, Adrian clicked her tongue in annoyance. “Who told you to turn up the heat? It was perfect just now.” I frowned. “But 61°F is too low. You were all bundled under blankets. It’s better to turn it up a bit.” Mia peeked out from under her duvet, her voice timid. “We were just worried you’d be hot…” She even faked a sneeze. Adrian glared at me angrily. “Why are you being mean to Mia? If it weren’t for you, we wouldn’t even have turned on the AC!” Claire directly forwarded the electricity bill. “The power bill was a thousand dollars this month. You pay it.” My eyes widened in shock. “How is it that much?” Adrian pouted. “Of course it’s a lot when you have the AC on all day. If you don’t have the money, why turn on the AC?” Mia chimed in, “Exactly. Running the AC all day costs a fortune. I wouldn’t even dare turn it on at home.” Claire shrugged, looking at me like I was an idiot. “You were the one who suggested turning on the AC first, so naturally, you should cover this extra expense.” I gritted my teeth, a knot of frustration tightening in my chest. “But it’s so hot. When I turned on the AC, you all got cool too, didn’t you?” Mia scoffed, rolling her eyes. “You have the nerve to say that! You’re the one who insisted on it! We were cold even without the AC!” Adrian put her hands on her hips. “We’re freezing under our blankets every day, but you’re comfortable with the AC on and act like a saint? And then you expect us to pay the bill? What kind of logic is that?” She then added, “Vanessa, don’t be so unreasonable!” I laughed, but it was a humorless sound. It was true that I was the one who suggested the AC first, but for the past month, every time I returned to the dorm, a blast of icy air greeted me the moment I opened the door. The three of them would be huddled in thick blankets, and the AC display clearly read “61°F.” It was obvious who was really enjoying the comfort. “You’re not trying to bail on the payment, are you? You should have said you were broke. If we knew you didn’t have money, we wouldn’t have turned on the AC for you.” Claire sized me up, her eyes full of disdain. “Poor thing!” Mia pursed her lips. “She definitely has money. I saw her buy a new handbag a few days ago.” She reached over, grabbed my bag, and started rummaging through it. I tried to stop her, but Adrian blocked me with a firm hand. The contents of my bag spilled onto the floor with a clatter, some bottles and jars shattering instantly. Although this small amount of money was nothing to me, I still frowned deeply. Mia pulled out a few high-end lipsticks. “These look pretty good, but too bad you’ve used them. Otherwise, they’d be worth a few bucks.” She handed one to Claire and one to Adrian, then tucked my designer bag into her arms. “Looks like you don’t have much money anyway. This bag is probably a fake. I’ll buy it from you for fifty bucks. Transfer the remaining nine hundred and fifty to Claire’s Venmo.” “You’re forcing me to sell my things!” I seethed, my teeth clenched. I tried to snatch my belongings back, but Adrian immediately twisted my arms behind my back. “If you hadn’t insisted on the AC, we wouldn’t have had to pay so much extra for electricity! If you don’t pay this, who will?” Adrian couldn’t resist shoving me. My lower abdomen hit the corner of the desk, and a sharp pain shot through me. Claire ignored everything, pressed my head down, and unlocked my phone, transferring money to herself. “Password?” I just glared at her. “What you’re doing is illegal!” Adrian slapped me hard on the head. I instantly felt dizzy. “Don’t talk back! What’s the password?” “I know the password! I saw her type it in!” Mia’s eyes lit up. She snatched the phone, and after a few tries, successfully transferred the money. Once they had the cash, they finally released me. My arms were bruised and marked from being held, but I couldn’t focus on that. Because at that moment, Adrian suddenly spoke up, “Since she doesn’t have money, why should we let her enjoy the AC we’re paying for?” Mia’s face lit up with understanding. “Right! She’s freeloading off the AC now!” With final exams approaching, I was afraid they’d pull another stunt, so I quickly said, “I’ll definitely pay my share of the electricity bill normally from now on.” Claire scoffed coldly. “That’s debatable. Who knows if you’ll go back on your word then?” “Or just make her pay a deposit,” Mia mused, propping her chin on her hand. In a moment, she came up with a “brilliant” idea. “Make her transfer the electricity bill to us in advance, then we won’t have to worry about her freeloading.” Mia quickly counted on her fingers. “There are twelve months in a year. Last month’s AC bill was nine hundred. That’s ten thousand eight hundred a year. Let’s round it down. Give us ten thousand, and you’re good.” I couldn’t help but laugh. “Ten thousand dollars for electricity a year? Are you kidding me?” Claire gave me a cold stare. Adrian immediately understood her meaning and cornered me against the wall. “If you don’t pay, you won’t live in this dorm. Ten thousand is already a discount.” “You’ve got some nerve. There are plenty of other dorms; I’m sure I can find an empty bed.” I snorted dismissively, internally noting how they truly were like snakes from the same pit. I made up my mind: I would apply to switch dorms in a little while. I didn’t want to stay in this dorm for another second! To my surprise, Mia and the others wouldn’t have it. Adrian stepped forward and immediately pinned my arms behind my back. Claire mockingly patted my face. “You think you can just leave whenever you want? If you leave, there will only be three of us. We’ll be short one person to split the electricity bill with. Who are we supposed to charge?” “So what do you want?” I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself, only wanting to deal with this quickly and get out of this troublesome place. “How about this, considering you’ve been with us for two months, we won’t ask for too much,” Claire said, holding up five fingers. “Give us fifty thousand as your share for future electricity bills, and then you can scram.” Before I could express my astonishment, Mia whispered, “We probably can’t take the money. She’s not trustworthy. If she switches dorms, she’ll definitely find a way to report us. Then we’ll all be charged with extortion, and none of us will escape.” Adrian panicked, her grip loosening slightly. “Then what do we do?” “I can give you fifty thousand! Just let me go, and I won’t report you.” I immediately struggled. Claire, seeing this, slapped me across the face. It stung fiercely. Mia looked at me with immediate suspicion. “She agreed so quickly. There’s definitely something fishy going on.” Adrian composed herself and viciously kicked the back of my knee. There was a sickening snap, and a searing, unbearable pain shot through my leg. Claire’s face was expressionless. “Then we definitely can’t let her leave.” She grabbed my hair and dragged me towards the balcony. “And we can’t let her freeload off the AC either. Let her stay out on the balcony.” I had checked the weather that morning; the high for today was 107°F. It wasn’t even noon yet, and the balcony was already scorching. Staying on the balcony, I wouldn’t die, but I’d be severely hurt! A wave of dread washed over me. I was about to scream, but Adrian shoved a rag into my mouth. To prevent my escape, they hog-tied me with rope, one end secured to the window handle. Even if I could move to the door, I couldn’t open it with my hands tied behind my back. Claire closed the door and drew the curtains, instantly turning the balcony into a sealed oven. I slumped to the ground, my face and body burning. Through the door, I could faintly hear their laughter and the sounds of their TV show. As noon approached, the temperature on the balcony rose higher and higher. I found it increasingly difficult to breathe. My lips were severely chapped, bleeding slightly. I slowly crawled to the door, bumping my head against the glass. I kept hitting my forehead until blood started to trickle down before Claire finally pulled back the curtain, glaring at me threateningly. “You’d better behave! The school dean is coming to inspect soon. If they find you, you’re going to regret it!”

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1 For a limited-time in-game event, my fiancé and his childhood rival, Isabelle, decided to pretend to be a couple. They agreed to “break up” after a week, but Isabelle kept pushing the boundaries. “Come on, Nathan, don’t tell me you’re getting soft. How about a real bet?” she taunted. “A lifetime pact. The first one to back out is a coward!” Just when everyone, including me, thought Nathan would quit the game for my sake, he gritted his teeth and refused to back down. He even raised the stakes, escalating their fake relationship from a couple to a married couple. For the next five years, Nathan spent every Christmas with Isabelle and her family. This year was no different. I looked at the latest text from my father. [Can you bring Nathan home this year? I’m afraid I might not be around to see next Christmas.] I clutched my phone, looking up just as Nathan walked in, arms full of holiday gifts. He held up a few different shirts against himself. “What kind of shirt do you think Mr. Hayes would like?” When I didn’t answer, he mumbled to himself, “Forget it. Asking you is useless. I’ll just ask Isabelle.” Watching his back as he happily sorted through the items, I opened a chat window I hadn’t touched in a long time. I typed and deleted the words several times before finally hitting send. [Do you still mean what you said? Come home with me for the holidays this year.] … The moment the message sent, a series of question marks popped up in response. [You’ve made up your mind? I’ll be there. Wait for me!] The screen went dark. I managed a weak smile and called my dad. “Dad, I’m bringing my boyfriend home for Christmas this year.” My voice was quiet, but Nathan, trying on clothes, overheard. He snatched the phone from my hand, hung up, and snapped, “We already agreed I’m spending the holidays at Isabelle’s. What are you telling your dad now?” I calmly took my phone back, my face impassive. “Nothing.” He seemed to sense my mood, his complaining tone softening as his gaze settled on me. “I know what you’re thinking, but spending Christmas at Isabelle’s was part of the deal from the beginning.” He puffed out his chest, a look of pride in his eyes I’d never seen before. “If I win, Isabelle has to sign over her entire company to me.” I stared at him for a long moment, then spoke. “Nathan, you don’t need the money, do you?” He stiffened, his brow furrowing. “What’s gotten into you today? You’re usually not this talkative.” Before I could reply, his phone, sitting on the table, rang. I glanced at the screen and saw the caller ID: [My Dearest Wife]. Nathan quickly silenced the call, a flicker of discomfort on his face. “Isabelle was just messing with my phone.” My fingers curled into my palm. A bitter taste filled my throat. The silence in the room was heavy. Nathan ran a hand through his hair in frustration, then pointed to the bags on the floor. “These are for your dad, so you can’t say I don’t care,” he said. “I’m going to marry you eventually. The holidays are just a formality. Don’t make such a big deal out of it.” With that, he disappeared into the bedroom to return the call. I looked at the “gifts.” Stale crackers, raw peanuts still covered in dirt. All cheap, thoughtless items you could buy for a few dollars at a corner store. My dad’s health had been failing for years; he couldn’t eat any of this. A sourness welled up in my eyes. I remembered the first time I brought Nathan home years ago. My father was so happy. The frail old man seemed to come alive that day. He even gave Nathan the family heirloom, a vintage watch passed down through generations. All my father wanted was for us to visit him in his small mountain town every year, to see us get married before he passed. But even that simple wish was too much to ask. I took a deep breath and faced the bedroom door. “Nathan, let’s break up…” My words were cut off by the sound of a key in the lock. The front door swung open, and Isabelle walked in as if she owned the place. She had a key to my home. She saw me and her brow tightened slightly. “Serena? I’m here to pick up Nathan to go gift shopping.” My face hardened. I stared at the key in her hand. “Why do you have a key to my apartment?” Nathan came out of the bedroom at the sound of her voice. “I had one made for her,” he said casually. “Sometimes you’re working late and not home, so Isabelle stays over in the guest room.” The anger inside me burned hotter. “This is my home, Nathan!” I hissed. “Did you even bother to ask me?” He didn’t explain. He just picked up his keys from the sofa, grabbed a box of expensive, rare ginseng from the cabinet, and handed it to Isabelle right in front of me. I shot out a hand to stop him, my teeth clenched. “That’s from my company. It’s for my dad, for his health.” Nathan impatiently shook my hand off. “Your dad’s health is already bad; this won’t save him. It’s better to give it to Isabelle’s father.” He added dismissively, “I’ll get you something better next time.” Isabelle accepted the ginseng with a sweet smile, turning to me. “Don’t be so dramatic, Serena. Once Nathan concedes the game, I’ll be sure to reimburse you for all your expenses over the years.” Nathan chuckled at that, playfully flicking a strand of Isabelle’s hair. “Who’s going to concede? I’m in this for life.” They slammed the door behind them, and the gust of wind that swept through the apartment chilled me to the bone. 2 Nathan and I had been together for nearly a decade. But in everyone else’s eyes, Isabelle was the one who truly deserved him. Five years ago, on Nathan’s birthday, I had a custom-made ring in my pocket, ready to propose. Isabelle was there, of course. The moment they saw each other, the bickering began, starting with truth or dare and escalating to drinking games. Nathan had eyes for no one but her. Then, Isabelle slammed her hand on the table, pulled out her phone, and opened an official event page for an online game. Couples who entered together could win limited-edition character skins. “Nathan, you in? Don’t tell me you’re scared!” The crowd roared, caught up in the excitement. My friend nudged me with her elbow. “Serena, you’re not going to say anything? You’re just going to let this happen?” Someone overheard and laughed. “Come on, Nathan would never agree. He and Serena have been together forever. They’re practically engaged.” Everyone thought so. So did I. But in the next second, Nathan slid his own phone across the table to face Isabelle. “Game on.” The smile on my face froze. I grabbed his arm. “Nathan, what do you think you’re doing?” He finally seemed to notice I was there. He opened his mouth to speak, a flash of regret in his eyes, but Isabelle just laughed and threw her hands up. “Relax, Serena. It’s just a game. The pairing automatically dissolves in a week,” she said smoothly. “You two are getting married, right? Don’t you trust him even a little?” Her words seemed to fuel Nathan’s impatience. He pushed me away. “It’s my birthday. Don’t ruin the mood.” His words plunged me into an icy abyss. The people around us exchanged awkward glances, the atmosphere turning frigid. I fought to keep my voice from trembling. “What game? Tell me. We’re the real couple. I can…” Nathan waved his hand dismissively. “You can’t. You don’t even know how to play. All you ever do is bury yourself in your boring design drafts.” My hand in my pocket clenched tighter, the engagement ring digging a sharp pain into my palm. “You’re really going to do this? You have a girlfriend, but you’re going to be a ‘couple’ with someone else?” At that, his face turned ugly. “What’s that supposed to mean, Serena!” he yelled, and then he smashed the cake I’d carefully prepared right in my face. “You just wanted to ruin my birthday, didn’t you? Fine, then we won’t celebrate!” That night ended in disaster. I drank until morning, but I couldn’t bring myself to break up with him. I couldn’t just throw away years of history. Even my dad told me to let it go, saying all couples have their little fights. But it wasn’t little. From a fake couple, they became a fake married couple. And every year, Nathan used that game as an excuse to spend Christmas with Isabelle. This year marked the fifth year of their game. Five years of them chipping away at every last bit of my love for him. I never gave him the ring. My phone screen lit up. It was another text from my dad. [Sweetheart, you and Nathan have been together for a decade now, haven’t you?] [Will Dad get to see you two get married?] Tears blurred my vision, dripping onto the screen. [Dad, I will get married. Just not to him.]

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1 The day my company went public, my best friend drugged me. When I opened my eyes again, I was tied up in a car. My so-called friend was toying with the signet ring he’d pulled from my finger, a vicious grin spreading across his face. “Rest easy, my friend,” he sneered. “I’ll be sure to take good care of your wife and the company for you.” Before I could even process the rage, the car, with me in it, plunged into the ocean. My best friend, Owen, thought I was dead. Three days later, at my memorial service, he and the shareholders he’d bribed prepared to take over my company. “Gentlemen,” Owen announced to the room, “the company has just gone public. It cannot be without a leader. Therefore, I propose to manage the company on my brother’s behalf, temporarily.” His words were a signal. The bought-off shareholders immediately voiced their support, pressuring those who remained hesitant. Just as the decision was about to be sealed, the man they thought was dead rolled into the memorial service, pushed in a wheelchair by my assistant. “I’m not dead yet,” I said, my voice cutting through the stunned silence. “So when did it become your turn, a murderer, to inherit my company?” … The triumphant smile on Owen’s face froze, his eyes wide with disbelief and shock. My arrival sent a wave of panic through the mourners. “Mr… Mr. Blackwood?” “A ghost! Is he a man or a ghost!” “But they said he was dead! The car went into the ocean, no body was ever found!” They scrambled back, giving me a wide berth. I wheeled myself to the side of the empty coffin and let out a cold laugh. “They couldn’t even find a body, and you dared to hold my memorial?” I fixed my gaze on Owen. “You must be very disappointed right now, Owen. Because you failed to kill me. And now, you’re in trouble. Now, it’s my turn to kill you.” My words shocked everyone back to reality. “Everyone, calm down! If Mr. Blackwood is speaking, it means he was lucky enough to survive.” “Wait, did you hear what he said first? He said, ‘When did it become your turn, a murderer, to inherit my company?’” The attendees exchanged nervous glances, their eyes all turning to the panicked figure of Owen standing by the altar. Whispers erupted as they began to piece together the truth. I expected Owen to be terrified, to beg for my mercy. He did neither. His composure returned with chilling speed, and a sarcastic smile touched his lips. “Brother, what are you talking about?” he said, his voice dripping with false innocence. “I didn’t murder you. If you’re going to insist on slandering me, you’d better have proof.” He added with a taunting lilt, “Spreading rumors is illegal, you know.” He walked down from the altar, and as he passed the coffin, he lifted his foot and kicked it over with a violent thud. “This damn thing is bad luck,” he scoffed. “Useless, empty box.” CRACK! The coffin splintered on the floor. Owen’s eyes met mine, a defiant, mocking glint in them. He was kicking the coffin, but he meant to kick me. “Brother, you may have come back alive, but the board has already decided to let me manage the company,” he declared. “And I swear, I didn’t use any dirty tricks to force the shareholders. Isn’t that right, gentlemen?” He smiled at the crowd of shareholders. Those he’d paid off quickly stepped forward. “That’s correct. It was the unanimous decision of the shareholders to have Mr. Stone manage the company.” “Even if you’re alive, you have to accept reality. The company is public now. You can’t just call all the shots by yourself.” Owen clapped his hands together, delighted. “Did you hear that, brother?” he said. “It’s not that I want the seat. It’s that they asked me to take it.” He leaned in closer. “I know you’re not happy about it, but you’ll have to swallow it. Because while I’m in charge, if anyone causes trouble for me, I won’t let them off easy.” The threat was clearly aimed at me. But he was forgetting something. I had started from nothing. I had seen and survived storms he couldn’t even imagine. I wasn’t about to capsize because of a pathetic snake like him. 2 Before I could speak, Owen’s assistant, drunk on his borrowed power, rushed forward and kicked my wheelchair. “Cole, it’s over for you! There’s no place for you in this company anymore.” He spat as he spoke, spittle landing in my hair. “And now you’re a cripple. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll go home and rot.” I have a thing about cleanliness. I despise being made dirty. I looked up, my eyes narrowing. “Say that again.” Owen’s assistant didn’t sense the danger. He opened his mouth and repeated the insult. I pulled a small knife from my pocket and plunged it deep into his thigh. “Heh. A little closer, and you would’ve lost that ‘thing’ of yours.” The blade went in clean and came out red. Blood splattered onto my hand. I calmly took out a handkerchief and wiped it clean. “AAAAAHHHH!!” The assistant crumpled to the floor, clutching his leg and writhing in agony. The scene stunned the crowd into silence, a stark reminder of my more… ruthless methods. I ran a legitimate business, but I also commanded forces that few people knew existed. A mutt like this, daring to bark at me, was digging his own grave. “I did warn you,” I said softly. Owen’s face darkened, his eyes glaring at me like a wolf. A shareholder, eager to curry favor with him, stood up and pointed a finger at me. “Cole, don’t take it too far!” he shouted. “He was just telling you to leave, you didn’t have to hurt him!” I looked at the shareholder with a knowing, humorless smile. His name was Arthur. I had saved his life. I remembered years ago when he’d gambled away everything and was about to jump off a building. I pulled him back from the ledge, paid off his debts, and gave him a stake in my then-fledgling company. He had knelt at my feet, weeping, promising a lifetime of gratitude. Now, here he was, siding with Owen, ready to stab me in the back. The betrayal was a bitter pill to swallow. “You said he was just telling me to leave?” I asked, my voice dangerously low. “This empire was built with my blood and sweat. You thieves waltz in, try to steal it, and then order me out. Tell me, who exactly is taking it too far? Go on. I’m listening.” “Since you’re asking, I’ll tell you,” a new voice cut in. “Because the company needs a healthy man to lead it, not a cripple like you. Understand?” My wife, Evelyn, strode into the room, high heels clicking, swaying her hips. I turned to her in disbelief, my hands clenching into fists. Her eyes were fixed on Owen, and Owen’s eyes were devouring her figure. In that instant, I understood. The two of them had conspired against me, a vile, treacherous pact. “Evelyn,” I ground out. “Do you know what you’re saying? Do you remember whose wife you are?” She met my fury with a cold, indifferent shrug. “Of course, I know what I’m saying.” She paused, a cruel smirk playing on her lips. “As for being your wife… not anymore.” “What do you mean?” I demanded, a terrible premonition creeping into my heart. That night… they had gotten me drunk, and they’d made me sign two contracts. Was this…? My head snapped up to meet Evelyn’s cunning gaze and Owen’s triumphant sneer. The fire of being played for a fool was unquenchable. “Heh,” Evelyn purred. “It seems you’re finally starting to figure it out.” 3 Consumed by rage, I wheeled myself over to Evelyn, grabbing her arm. “Those contracts you two made me sign that night,” I snarled, “what were they?” She shot me a look of pure contempt and violently ripped her arm from my grasp. “Don’t touch me, you pathetic cripple.” Then, she slapped me. Hard. That slap obliterated any lingering affection I had for her. The remaining guests began to murmur amongst themselves. To quell the gossip, Evelyn addressed the room from the front. “Ladies and gentlemen, my sincerest apologies,” she said, her voice smooth as silk. “It seems there has been a terrible misunderstanding. Cole is, as you can see, very much alive. I apologize for the confusion. Please, accept my apologies and feel free to leave. What remains is a private family matter, and we will handle it ourselves.” Once the guests had departed, Evelyn’s gentle smile vanished, replaced by a mask of cold cruelty. “Cole, you’re such a smart man,” she cooed. “Why don’t you use that brilliant mind of yours to guess what those contracts were?” As she finished speaking, Owen wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her in for a deep, passionate kiss. I watched, my eyes burning red, my fists clenched so tight my knuckles were white, as my wife and my best friend devoured each other. A chill spread from my heart, and it felt like I couldn’t breathe. “Ev-e-lyn,” I bit out each syllable. “Give me one reason for this betrayal.” Owen effortlessly lifted her into his arms and sat down across from me. “Why are you so worked up, brother? With your legs broken, a useless man like you should be lying in bed, counting your final days.” He smirked. “Didn’t I tell you? I’d take care of the company and your wife for you. I just took care of her… all the way into my bed.” Evelyn, nestled in his embrace, added her own venom. “Cole, I never loved you. I married you because you were rich and powerful.” Her eyes raked over me with disgust. “Now you’ve lost everything. You’re useless. What’s the difference between you and a cripple?” Believing they had full control, they dropped all pretenses. Staring at their repulsive faces, my mind went blank. One was my best friend, the other, the woman I loved. I had treated them both with nothing but generosity after my success. Especially Owen. He was my childhood friend. His family was dirt poor; he almost couldn’t afford college. I begged my father to sponsor his education. And now, he had forgotten everything, using my kindness to destroy me. The few shareholders who hadn’t taken a side could no longer stand it. They stood up, their voices filled with righteous indignation, pointing at the pair. “You two are disgusting! Now I see it all.” “You conspired to kill Cole so you could take over his company, didn’t you?” “Shameless. Vicious. We will not accept Owen as the head of this company.” “That’s right!” For a brief moment, I felt a flicker of warmth. In times of crisis, you see who your true friends are. Owen set Evelyn down and stood up, strolling around nonchalantly. “So what if you guessed right? This world is survival of the fittest. If you’re not ruthless enough on your way to the top, you won’t last.” He sneered at the shareholder who had spoken. “You old fossil, your support means nothing. It won’t change the fact that I’m taking over.” With that, Owen punched the man, sending him staggering back. “Old man, if you ever dare point your finger at me again, I’ll break it on the spot.” He glared at the others. “Don’t think that cripple Cole can save you. You’d all be wise to pick the right side if you don’t want to end up in a ditch.”

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I was blinded saving Victoria’s life. She swore she would be my eyes forever, that she’d never leave my side. I threw myself into treatment, and on the day my vision was finally restored, I raced home, my heart pounding with joy, ready to share the incredible news. Instead, I found Victoria in my bed with her male secretary, tangled in a passionate embrace, their bodies moving in rhythm. In the throes of passion, Victoria moaned her secretary’s name. “Tori,” he whispered, “why don’t you just divorce the blind man? I’m the one who truly understands you, the one who loves you.” “Just a little longer,” she panted. “I need more time.” That night, a blizzard raged outside. I walked out of my own home in a thin shirt, my heart a frozen wasteland. I booked a flight. I was going back to the Enclave, a place where Victoria would never find me. 1 After booking the flight, I thought the two of them might have finished their sordid affair. When I steeled myself and walked back into the house, I found they had moved from the bedroom to the living room. They were still locked in a feverish kiss, the air thick with the scent of sex. Victoria’s lust-filled eyes met mine, and she bit her lower lip, stifling a moan. But Asher, her secretary, was deliberately cruel. He thrust against her, hard. “Relax, Tori,” he murmured against her ear, his voice a low taunt. “David is blind. He can’t see us.” He shot me a look of pure contempt. Victoria pinched his side. “Don’t be wicked. We can’t let him hear anything.” “Oh, but I think this is so much more exciting,” he chuckled. “Damn, I think we’re out. We need a new one.” He whispered something in her ear, and she stilled her movements, her gaze falling on me, sitting on the opposite sofa. “Should I get it, or should we make him?” Asher asked, his eyes glinting with malice. After a moment’s hesitation, Victoria gave in to his game. “David,” she called out, her voice husky. “My throat’s a little sore. Could you grab that box of cold medicine from the coffee table for me?” My face was ashen. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes hazy with desire, her hands still clinging to Asher’s body. I forced myself to control the tremor in my hands, clenching them into fists. I glanced at the so-called “cold medicine” on the coffee table. It was a box of condoms. Victoria was asking me to bring them a condom. My world turned to grey. Playing the part of the blind man, I fumbled my way to the table and picked up the box. “How did you catch a cold? Is it serious?” I asked, my voice shaking with a betrayal she couldn’t hear. “No, it’s nothing. I’ll just take the medicine and get some sleep.” Asher’s hands roamed her body, and she shot him a playful glare, silently telling him to stop. She took the box from my hand. “You should get some rest too. I’ll sleep in the guest room. I don’t want to infect you.” Then, Asher swept her into his arms, and they disappeared into the guest room. After they were gone, a bitter sting filled my nose, and my eyes burned. Even though I had already decided to leave her, the pain was a physical blow. Victoria had sworn she would never lie to me, never betray me. She had broken her vow. I picked up my phone and called my mentor, the Elder of my people. “Elder, it’s David. I am ready to come home and take my place as your successor.” “Are you certain? Once you return, you can never leave again. You know the valley is sealed, hidden from the outside world. Can you truly bear to leave Victoria?” “I can,” I answered without hesitation. The Elder was silent for a long moment. “Very well. Come back in seven days.” I had once hesitated to return, unable to leave her. Now, she had made the choice for me. I glanced at the closed door of the guest room, from which the sounds of their panting had already begun to emerge. “I have neglected my skills for too long,” I told the Elder. “I have a gift for medicine, yet I let it gather dust. Now, I am ready to take up the burden, to ease your worries.” “Good. You are a true son of the valley. You do not disappoint me. In eight days, we will all be waiting at the entrance to welcome you home.” “I will be there on time.” After we finished speaking, just as I hung up, the door opened. Victoria walked in, wearing nothing but Asher’s white dress shirt. Her neck and thighs were covered in love bites. She didn’t bother to hide them. After all, I was blind. 2 A wave of nausea, more intense than anything I had ever felt, washed over me. I retched. Seeing my reaction, Victoria rushed towards me, her face etched with concern. As she drew near, the cloying scent of Asher’s signature cologne enveloped me—a custom blend the perfume company had made just for him, a gift from her. The revulsion was overwhelming. I shoved her away, stumbling blindly towards the bathroom, my body itself rejecting her presence. I knelt before the toilet, dry heaving. When the spasms subsided, my eyes fell on the trash can. A pregnancy test. Two red lines. I stared at it for a long time, the two lines mocking my failure, my impotence. I couldn’t find the right emotion. I couldn’t cry. There was nothing left but an endless, hollow ache. Since I had lost my sight six months ago, Victoria and I hadn’t been intimate. There was no need to guess whose child it was. Victoria followed me, her voice laced with panic. She wrapped her arms around me from behind. “David, what’s wrong? Are you sick?” Her hands trembled against my waist. “You pushed me away just now… my heart just sank.” She held me tighter, as if I might vanish at any moment. One second, she was with another man. The next, she was whispering words of love to me. Victoria was a truly gifted actress. I pried her hands off me, creating distance between us. “It’s probably just my stomach. I’ve been having trouble keeping food down lately.” I didn’t know when I had learned to lie so easily. I had always despised dishonest people, and now I had become one of them. Hearing this, Victoria seemed to panic. The woman who was famously obsessed with cleanliness didn’t seem to care that I might be covered in filth. She clung to me again, her grip desperate. “I’m so sorry. I’ve been so busy with work, I haven’t had time for you. You’ve been eating alone, not taking care of yourself. It’s all my fault.” She cupped my face, her brow furrowed with what looked like genuine pain. She led me back to the bedroom and pulled out fresh clothes for me. I stopped her, dressing myself. Victoria froze, a flicker of something unreadable in her eyes. It was the first time since we married that I hadn’t needed her help. Her heart seemed to skip a beat. I lay down on the bed, and she gently pulled the covers over me. “David, are you angry with me? For not spending enough time with you?” she whispered. “Tomorrow is your birthday. I’ll take the whole day off. We’ll spend it all together, just us. How does that sound?” The fearsome queen of the business world, a woman who made titans of industry tremble, was speaking to me with such humility. Was I fortunate or cursed? I was too tired to decide. As I drifted off to sleep, she must have thought I was already gone, because her phone vibrated. She quickly silenced it, then called my name twice. When I didn’t stir, she answered. “You little vixen,” Asher’s voice purred through the phone. “You ripped my underwear. Now, get me a new pair. Immediately.” “I’ll be right there.” Victoria glanced at me one last time, her hand gently stroking my cheek, then she left. I gripped the bedsheets, and the tears I had been holding back finally broke free. Asher hadn’t left. She was keeping him here, in our home, taking advantage of my blindness. It’s alright, I told myself. Just seven more days. Then, we will be finished forever. 3 The next morning, Victoria was up early, cooking a lavish breakfast in the kitchen. She had prepared all my favorite pastries and side dishes. She even held a piece up to my lips. “Open up, darling. Let me feed you.” Asher, sitting across from me, pouted. Victoria, right in front of me, texted him under the table: I’ll make it up to you later. Don’t cause a scene in front of David. I’ll give you whatever you want. A smug look crossed Asher’s face. He shot me a disdainful glance, then stood up. As he passed Victoria, his fingers brushed provocatively under the hem of her skirt before he walked out. I didn’t take the food she offered. I picked up my chopsticks and pretended to blindly find something else on the table. She thought I was still sulking. After breakfast, she insisted on taking me out. She had chartered a yacht and invited dozens of our friends for what she called a grand birthday celebration for me. All the way there, she held my hand tightly, as if afraid I might fall, chattering on about our sweet memories. I remained silent, the irony and pain a bitter cocktail in my gut. I once believed we would grow old together, inseparable. It had all become a joke. Victoria craved excitement, craved the thrill of a younger man. She had forgotten the vows we made. The path from the dock to the yacht was strewn with vibrant, fresh rose petals. I’ve always hated roses. Victoria knew this. Asher, however, loved them. So the rose petals were for him. Another lie in a celebration that was never meant for me. “David, this is where we had our wedding. It was broadcast live across the globe, so the whole world would know how much I, Victoria Thorne, adored you.” Her voice trembled with emotion, and a single tear traced a path down her cheek. She lifted my hand and pressed my fingertips to the teardrop. How much love does it take to make a woman cry with such sincerity? If it weren’t for her betrayal, I might have been moved enough to cry with her. She had loved me once. But that time was gone. Her love was now divided. I pulled my hand away, my expression as calm as still water. Victoria, lost in her own memories, looked hurt by my lack of reaction. But her sorrow lasted only a few seconds. Her eyes lit up, a smile playing on her lips as she looked towards the deck. Asher was standing there, dressed in a bespoke suit Victoria had made for him. He looked refined, elegant. Compared to my simple attire, I was utterly eclipsed. “Mr. Hayes, happy birthday,” Asher said with a smug smile. He walked to Victoria’s side and, ignoring everyone else, took her hand in his. “Ms. Thorne, everything is ready. I’ll count down from three.” “One!” “Two!” “Three!” Suddenly, the night sky erupted in a cascade of fireworks, painting the darkness with brilliant colors. The three of us stood there, Victoria and Asher’s hands tightly clasped. They looked like the married couple. I watched the explosions, and a sharp pain pierced my eyes. As the fireworks bloomed, they spelled out a name in glittering light: ASHER. Not David. The party, the fireworks—it was all for him. Suddenly, Victoria excused herself, asking a maid to look after me. “David, be a good boy and wait for me. I’ll be right back.” She placed a soft kiss on my forehead and then, taking Asher’s hand, eagerly hurried away.

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I went to my brother’s hospital for an allergic reaction and ran right into the intern nurse who was crushing on him. Hard. After she overheard what she thought was an “intimate” conversation between me and my brother, her face soured with jealousy and panic. Just then, my brother, Alex, walked in and habitually placed his hand on my forehead to check my temperature. That was the last straw for her. She looked at me like I was the enemy, her eyes filled with suspicion. I was torn between laughing and crying, about to explain the situation, when she suddenly shrieked and slapped my brother’s hand away. “Dr. Monroe, break up with her! Don’t let this filthy woman deceive you! This isn’t an allergic reaction!” “She’s got… a rash on her backside!” “It’s a textbook sign of secondary syphilis! She’s got a filthy disease!” 1 The entire ER went dead silent. In an instant, every eye in the room snapped to me—to my exposed back and my half-lowered pants. A roar filled my ears as all the blood rushed to my head. “What the hell are you talking about?!” I was the first to snap out of it, my body trembling with rage. I whipped my head toward the intern, Brooke, my eyes turning red. “What’s your name? Your ID number? Do you have any idea that’s slander?!” My fury made Brooke flinch, and tears instantly welled up in her eyes. But she refused to back down, her tear-filled gaze shifting to Alex, who stood there in stunned silence. Her expression was a bizarre mix of righteous indignation, heartbreak, and a kind of… “savior” complex I couldn’t comprehend. “Dr. Monroe! I’m not lying! I’ve studied medicine for five years, I know what I’m seeing!” she sobbed, a picture of tragic beauty. She pointed a trembling finger at me. “I just don’t want you to be fooled by a woman like her! Her personal life is a mess, she doesn’t deserve you! Look at her, she’s still trying to deny it!” The look on Alex’s face screamed, Who am I? Where am I? I yanked up my pants, ignoring the searing pain as the fabric scraped against my raw skin. I stood up and locked my eyes on Brooke. “Say it again,” I hissed, forcing the words through gritted teeth. “What disease do you think I have?” “I…” My glare seemed to frighten her, but a quick glance at Alex standing nearby gave her a fresh surge of courage. She puffed out her chest. “You know perfectly well what you’ve been doing, don’t you?” “Right,” I said, a humorless laugh escaping my lips. “Just perfect.” I was done wasting my breath on her. I pulled out my phone and started dialing right in front of her. “Hello, 911? I’d like to report a crime. There’s someone here publicly slandering me, defaming my character…” “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Ms. Lynn! Please, calm down!” A middle-aged man with a “Chief Physician” badge clipped to his coat rushed in, clearly having heard the commotion. When he took in the scene—me on the phone with the police, Alex’s face a mask of thunder—he looked like he was about to have a heart attack. “Dr. Monroe, what… what’s going on here?” Alex’s voice was clipped. “Dr. Wallace, this intern here claims my ‘girlfriend’ has secondary syphilis.” The color drained from the chief’s face. He spun on Brooke, his voice a furious whisper. “Brooke! What do you think you’re doing? You don’t have a lab report, and you’re making a diagnosis with your eyes? What are you, a goddamn X-ray machine?!” “I… I…” Brooke’s tears flowed faster as she looked pleadingly at Alex. “Dr. Monroe, I was really just trying to help you! I…” “Shut up!” Dr. Wallace looked like his head was about to explode. He knew Alex had influence with the hospital administration. If this blew up, his whole department would be in hot water. “Apologize to Ms. Lynn and Dr. Monroe right now!” “Do you want to lose your residency spot?!” The words “residency spot” were clearly Brooke’s weak point. She trembled, biting her lip, her face a mask of humiliation and defiance. She reluctantly gave me a short, jerky bow. “I’m… sorry.” Her voice was as quiet as a mosquito’s buzz, but the venom in her eyes could have killed. “I don’t want your apology,” I cut her off, my gaze sweeping sharply between her and Dr. Wallace. “I’m going to get a full STD panel done. Right here, in your hospital. Right now.” I paused, enunciating every word. “And if the results come back clean, I’m not just suing you, Brooke, for slander. I’m suing this hospital for gross negligence and for allowing an intern to spread malicious lies.” Beads of cold sweat popped up on Dr. Wallace’s forehead. “Ms. Lynn, please, let’s not be hasty,” he said, forcing a smile. “This is all a big misunderstanding! Brooke, you’re suspended from your internship duties. Go write a ten-thousand-word self-criticism report! We’ll post a hospital-wide notice of reprimand!” I couldn’t be bothered to watch their pathetic drama anymore. I turned and walked away. Alex quickly followed, helping me register and get my blood drawn. I was so angry I basically did the blood draw on myself, finding the vein and inserting the needle with a grim satisfaction. It was past midnight by the time I dragged my rash-covered, furious self home. I swallowed my medication and fell into a heavy, dreamless sleep. I had no idea that for every hour I slept, I was being crucified online. When I finally opened my eyes again, it was to the violent buzzing of my phone. A string of missed calls from Alex. “Hello…?” My voice was as scratchy as sandpaper. “Lia, thank God you finally picked up! Get on TikTok! Now! It’s a total disaster!” My stomach dropped. I opened the app. The 999+ notifications in my DMs and comments made my phone lag so badly it felt like I was watching a slideshow. A video from a local creator was trending, sitting right at the top of my feed. In the video, a girl in a white coat was sobbing into the camera. It was Brooke. The caption read: [I just wanted to be a good doctor, is that so wrong?] She didn’t use any names, but the background was unmistakably the ER hallway from last night. Between heart-wrenching sobs, she spoke. “…I was just trying to kindly warn the gentleman that his ‘girlfriend’s’ symptoms were very suspicious. If it was that kind of disease, it could be contagious. I never thought his girlfriend would react so violently and file a complaint against me…” “…Now, to smooth things over, my supervisor has suspended me and made me write a self-criticism report. After five years of medical school, I honestly don’t know what I did wrong…” “…Maybe I shouldn’t have gotten involved, but I just couldn’t bear to see that man kept in the dark. I did nothing wrong! I’m still the best Little Lamb!” That last part, “I’m still the best Little Lamb,” was her personal tag. The comment section had already exploded. 2 [Don’t cry, sweetie! You did nothing wrong! You’re just too kind!] [Seriously, some women these days have no shame. And then they get mad when you call them out?] [That patient was definitely just pissed you exposed her! Hugs for Little Lamb!] [OMG, isn’t that St. Jude’s Medical Center? I think I was there yesterday, that woman was a total nightmare!] [Someone find out who that woman is! We have to save that handsome guy from her!] I was shaking with rage. What a masterpiece of twisting the truth, “the best Little Lamb.” She was even replying to comments, vividly describing what I looked like. [The woman looked sickly, but she had a terrible temper. I have no idea how she managed to trick a guy like him. He’s so handsome and classy, they’re like night and day!] [I heard the handsome guy is an administrator here at the hospital, and he’s super nice! Ugh, what a waste!] My anger boiled over. I started typing a reply in the comments: [I’m the “patient” you’re talking about, and here’s what actually happened…] I had just furiously typed out half the story when a cold, gray box popped up on my screen: [Your account has been suspended due to multiple user reports of violating community guidelines.] My vision went black for a second. When I came to, I immediately contacted customer support, only to be told it would take three business days to review my case. Three business days? The damage would be irreversible by then. Alex was panicking on the other end of the line. “Lia, I’ve already spoken to the hospital director. They said they’ll issue a public statement to clarify everything immediately!” “Alex,” I said, taking a deep breath to force myself to stay calm. “Don’t. Right now, you’re the ‘poor, handsome guy being duped’ in her story. The more you defend me, the more they’ll think I have some powerful background and I’m using it to bully her.” “So what are we supposed to do? Just let her drag your name through the mud?” I hung up, my eyes fixed on Brooke’s tear-stained face in the video. Suddenly, I remembered the way she’d looked at Alex in the ER last night. It was… wrong. That wasn’t how an intern looked at a colleague. It was obsession. Jealousy. Resentment. She kept saying things like “for your own good” and “she doesn’t deserve you.” Why would a brand-new intern be so… invested in my brother’s love life? Unless… she knew him from before. A crazy idea, sharp as lightning, shot through my mind. I shot up in bed and dialed Alex’s number again. “Alex, I need you to do something for me. Right now. I need you to log in to the hospital’s internal staff forum.” “Huh? Right now? Why?” “Just do it. And search for a post.” Drawing on a hazy memory, I gave him a few keywords. “Try: Dr. Monroe, girlfriend, doesn’t deserve.” There was silence on the other end. As an administrator, Alex could access the internal network in seconds. Five minutes later, he called back, his voice thick with shock and disbelief. “Lia… how… how did you know?” He sent me a screenshot. It was a post from three months ago, in the “Anonymous Gossip” section of the hospital’s internal forum. The title was: [Vent] Dr. Monroe in Admin is so nice, but isn’t his girlfriend kind of a diva? The post read: [OP is a new intern. I saw Dr. Monroe in the cafeteria today, and his girlfriend (I assume) called. He had to drop everything and run down to the coffee shop in the lobby to buy her some special strawberry frappe.] [Last week, I saw her making him carry her shopping bags in the hospital garden. She was totally bossing him around, but Dr. Monroe is such a saint, he was smiling the whole time.] [And I heard she’s a massive spender. Most of Dr. Monroe’s salary goes straight to her.] [What’s so great about a woman like that? Why would Dr. Monroe be with her? I just feel so bad for him!] The replies were a mixed bag. [OP, you just have a crush on Dr. Monroe, don’t you?] [Hahaha, our Dr. Monroe is the hospital heartthrob. The line of people crushing on him is a mile long.] [I’ve seen that woman too. She’s gorgeous, but she looks really mean.] And when someone asked the original poster if she had a crush, she had replied with a long, defensive rant: [NO! I DON’T! Stop making things up! I just feel bad for Dr. Monroe! He’s such a good person, why does he have to be deceived by a woman like her?!] I stared at the screenshot, a chill spreading through my limbs. Three months ago, I had a dental appointment, and Alex offered to buy me a drink. I complained he got the flavor wrong, so I sent him back downstairs to get another one. Last week, my mom had us pick up her physical exam report from the hospital, and I’d done some shopping beforehand, so I made him carry my bags. As for his salary… my mom had confiscated his credit cards years ago for his reckless spending. I was the one holding them, giving him a monthly allowance. I took another deep breath, my voice as cold as ice. “Alex, trace the IP address of that post.” There was a pause. “…Lia, the IP address traces back to the intern dorms. Building A.” “And who… lives in Building A?” “…Dermatology and a few internal medicine interns.” Alex hesitated. “Brooke… Brooke lives in Building A.” 3 I laughed. A cold, hollow sound that nearly brought tears to my eyes. So this wasn’t a medical error. It wasn’t a random attack. This was a premeditated setup, a character assassination fueled by a one-sided crush. Brooke hadn’t misdiagnosed me. She had already judged and condemned me. She wasn’t diagnosing my illness; she was delivering my punishment. She was punishing me, the “awful woman” who “didn’t deserve” Alex and was “deceiving” him. Fine. You want to settle this online? Just then, a friend request popped up on my social media. The profile picture was Brooke’s own pitiful, tear-stained face. I accepted. A message came through instantly. [Ms. Lia Lynn, I presume? I honestly didn’t expect things to blow up online like this.] [I already know I was wrong, and I’ve asked for your forgiveness. But as a doctor, I feel I should still offer some advice. A girl should take care of her body. It’s really better not to be so… promiscuous.] Her condescending tone, as if she were some kind of savior, was infuriating. I stared at the words, a bitter laugh bubbling up inside me. I was about to unleash a torrent of curses, but my fingers froze over the screen. What was the point of yelling at her? It would only feed her ego. I deleted the long string of insults I had typed and calmly replied with a few words. [Are you at the hospital right now?] Brooke clearly hadn’t expected that question. A few seconds later, a single “?” appeared. Seeing that question mark, a cold smile touched my lips. I didn’t bother replying. I dialed Alex’s number instead. “Alex, do me a favor.” “Anything, Lia!” “Go live on your TikTok account.” “What?” “The title of the stream will be: [Regarding ‘Little Lamb’s’ Slander—The Patient’s Actual Brother Has Something to Say].” 4 The next morning, Alex and I walked back into that hospital. Alex’s TikTok account had a few tens of thousands of followers, mostly from his fitness videos and hospital-related informational content. The moment he started the livestream with that title, thousands of viewers poured in. Most of them were people who had followed the “Little Lamb” drama last night and had come to curse out the “slut” and the “blinded hottie.” [Ugh, that woman has the nerve to show her face at the hospital again?] [Is this guy insane? He’s that handsome and he chooses a girl with syphilis?] [You city people are wild!] I ignored the flood of comments and walked straight to the emergency department’s main hall. As I expected, Brooke was there. She wasn’t in her white coat. She had changed into a white dress and was laughing and chatting with another nurse, showing no signs of someone who had been suspended and was supposed to be reflecting on her actions. When she saw me, she froze for a second, then her lips curled into a slight, contemptuous smirk. But when her eyes moved past me and landed on Alex, who was holding his phone up and livestreaming, the color drained from her face. In the next instant, she put on a heart-wrenching, tearful expression and rushed toward us, bowing deeply over and over. “Dr. Monroe! Ms. Lynn! I’m so, so sorry!” “I truly had no idea the online reaction would be so huge… I never should have revealed your condition online, I was just so worried you might infect someone else…” She cried, stealing glances at Alex from the corner of her eye, her performance utterly convincing. The livestream chat instantly exploded. [Did you hear that! She admitted it herself! It’s a ‘condition,’ not an ‘allergic reaction’!] [I’m gonna be sick. And this woman dragged her ‘boyfriend’ here to cause more trouble?] I suppressed the inferno of rage in my chest and cut her performance short with a cold, clear voice. “A condition? Alright then.” I held up a manila folder I was carrying. “The results from last night’s blood test are in this folder.” Brooke’s sobs hitched. “But,” I continued, “I’m worried people will say we used our ‘connections’ to force the hospital to alter the report.” I turned to the camera, to the crowd of onlookers that had gathered in the lobby. “So, right here, right now, in front of everyone in this livestream, I’m going to register again, get my blood drawn again, and do another full panel of tests!” “And that’s not all,” I said, turning to Alex. Alex understood immediately and made a call. “Hello, is this the Notary Public’s office? I need an expedited on-site notarization service…” “This is…” Brooke’s face was now completely white. Just then, Dr. Wallace, the chief from yesterday, rushed over, his face livid. “This is absurd! What do you think a hospital is? A stage for your livestream drama?” He was clearly trying to shut this down. Alex walked over to him without a word and whispered something in his ear. I only caught a few words: “dean,” “internal forum,” “malicious slander.” Dr. Wallace’s face turned from white to green, then from green to a dark, stormy gray. He stared at Brooke, his eyes burning with a look that could have skinned her alive. Finally, he ground out three words through his teeth: “Let her test!” I took Alex’s phone and handled the registration and payment. On the screen, I ignored the vile comments scrolling by. Blood draw, urine sample, various scans… The notaries arrived quickly, and two of them set up their own cameras, recording the entire process. I remained perfectly calm through it all. Brooke tried to find an excuse to slip away several times, but Alex stood like a guard at the lab entrance, blocking her path every time. Her face grew paler, her eyes wild with panic. After all the tests were done, I crossed my arms and sat on a bench in the hospital lobby to wait. The number of viewers on the livestream had surpassed one hundred thousand, all of them waiting to see how this drama would end. Two hours later, I had all the printed report sheets in my hand. I didn’t even look at them. I handed the entire stack, along with the notarized documents, directly to Dr. Wallace. “Dr. Wallace,” I said with a small smile, “you’re the chief physician. You’re the expert. Would you please do the honors? Read my test results out loud for our friends in the livestream.” Dr. Wallace’s white coat was soaked with sweat. He took the stack of papers, his hands trembling. He cleared his throat and began to read, one sheet at a time. “Complete blood count, normal.” “Liver function, normal.” “Kidney function, normal.” … He read quickly, until he got to the very last page. His voice stopped abruptly. He looked up, gave me a strange, conflicted look, then glanced back down at the report in his hands. His eyes held a flicker of hesitation and something that looked almost like… pity? The livestream chat sensed that something was wrong. [Why’d he stop reading? What’s on the last page?] [Come on, say it! The suspense is killing me!] Under the pressure of hundreds of thousands of viewers, the doctor swallowed hard. He looked at the camera and forced out the words: “Syphilis antibody test… Positive (+).” “Diagnosis: Syphilis, Secondary Stage.”

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1 It was the seventh year since I’d escaped my family, the year I met the woman I thought was my soulmate. Her looks, her personality, even her tastes—everything about her was perfect for me. In our third month together, we decided on a destination wedding. The night before we were set to leave, I was scrolling idly through a forum and stumbled upon a post. [Late Night Vents: What’s the most outrageous thing you’ve ever agreed to do for a boyfriend?] I was about to swipe past it, but a reply from a user named “IndigoSky” caught my eye. [So many things. We were young and reckless, so I gave him everything. Got pregnant for him, had an abortion. Satisfied his every fantasy, wherever he wanted.] [But the most outrageous thing? I agreed to marry his brother.] Amid a sea of sympathetic replies, IndigoSky posted again. [Don’t feel sorry for me, everyone. My boyfriend has heart failure. Only his brother’s heart can save him.] [I’m going to help him get that heart. Then we’ll be together forever and ever.] I stared at her profile picture, at the tattoo on her chest that was an exact match to the one over my own heart. My world tilted, and my heart began to sink. … [Maybe we should cancel tomorrow’s flight.] It was three in the morning when I sent the message to my fiancée, Sophie. She replied almost instantly. [Why? Haven’t you been looking forward to our wedding trip for ages?] I sent her a quick photo I’d taken of the hospital, just as my doctor called me into his office. “Mr. Reed, given your physical condition, I really can’t recommend long-distance travel…” “Doctor, is Asher okay?” Before the doctor could finish, Sophie burst into the room, breathless. She was still in her pajamas, her eyes wide with a worry so deep it seemed bottomless. A shame it was all an act. No, that wasn’t entirely true. The worry was real, but not for me. After all, if something happened to my health, her true love—my younger brother, Nathan—would lose his chance at a heart transplant. A bitter taste filled my mouth, and I lowered my head. The doctor, misinterpreting my silence, played his part as usual, offering a comforting lie to Sophie. “He’s fine. It’s the same old issue. As long as he takes his medication, he’ll be alright.” “But I would still advise you to be cautious about this wedding trip.” Sophie nodded, volunteering to go pick up my prescription. When the white bottle was in her hand, her brow furrowed. “What’s this? I haven’t seen this one before.” “It’s for my stomach,” I lied smoothly. “The doctor said it’s gentler on my system.” But Sophie wasn’t buying it. She took a picture of my medical report and sent it to a doctor friend of hers. For a split second, I almost convinced myself that the forum post had been a hallucination. Then her friend’s reply came back as a voice note, and she accidentally played it on speaker. “Relax. That medication is for heart failure, but it’s sometimes used for stomach issues too.” “Besides, your Asher gets a full check-up every month, and he gets a clean bill of health every single time.” “That heart of his is so strong you could probably smash rocks on it and it would be fine…” Sophie frantically cut the audio off, but my heart had already plunged into an icy abyss. Of course. She wasn’t worried about me. I reached for a cigarette, needing to get out, but she plucked it from my fingers. “You shouldn’t smoke if you’re not feeling well.” “And… maybe we really should cancel the flight tomorrow?” I didn’t answer. Just then, a text message notification lit up my phone. [Mr. Asher Reed, your one-million-dollar accidental death and dismemberment policy is now active.] [This policy is valid for one week and offers a maximum payout of three million dollars.] Three million… The cost of a heart transplant surgery was exactly three million dollars. It seemed Sophie really, truly loved Nathan. She’d even factored in the surgical fees. Noticing the dark look on my face, Sophie rushed to explain. “Asher, don’t overthink it. A friend of mine sells insurance, and I was just helping her meet her sales quota.” “And I bought one for myself, too! See…” I cut her off. “It’s late. Go home and get some rest.” “I’ll see you at the airport in the morning.” 2 My family was a catastrophe. My father was a violent drunk and a compulsive gambler. When I was seven, he backhanded my little brother during a drunken rage, and that was the last straw for my mother. She filed for divorce. In court, she took my younger brother, Nathan. I dragged my leg, which my father had also broken, to the train station to see them off. My mother cupped my face in her hands and whispered that she was sorry. She told me to hold on, to wait for the day she would come back for me. I waited for ten years. I waited until my drunk of a father stumbled, fell into a roadside ditch, and drowned. Only then did a social worker help me contact the mother I had longed for all those years. She had remarried. She was draped in designer clothes, and my brother had transformed into a polished, privileged young man. But when the subject of me coming to live with them came up, they both became evasive. In the end, I was sent to a boarding school. I was an outcast, constantly bullied, but it was better than the life I’d known, a life of never knowing where my next meal was coming from. Three years later, I was accepted into a top-tier university. On the day the acceptance letters went out, my mother, who had never once visited me, showed up in a luxury car. She said the Vaughn family—her new family—was throwing a party to officially welcome me home. She handed me a drink herself. A welcome-home toast. I woke up in a prison cell, told I had killed someone in a high-speed street race. Meanwhile, the real heir of the Vaughn family, my brother, had assumed my identity and was attending that top-tier university in my place. Nathan was sent to a prestigious school abroad. I spent ten years in prison. When I got out, I changed my name and fought my way up from nothing to build the life I have now. Then Sophie came to my company for an interview. She told me her family had always treated her like a “blood bag,” a resource to be used, and that she just wanted to live for herself for once. I saw a reflection of my younger self in her. I broke my own rules and hired her on the spot. Sophie didn’t disappoint. Within a week, she had mastered her duties. Within a month, she was indispensable. The day before her probationary period ended, she confronted a colleague who was taking kickbacks and ended up in the hospital after a heated argument. The colleague was connected to one of our most important corporate partners. Before I could even intervene, Sophie submitted her resignation. A month later, I found her working at a late-night food stall, being harassed by a drunk. I stepped in. We spent that night talking at the police station, opening our hearts to each other. That’s when we started our relationship. The more time I spent with her, the more certain I was that she was the one. But my past made me terrified of marriage. I could never bring myself to take that final step. Until a week ago, when Sophie came to me, her face glowing with joy, holding up a positive pregnancy test. Suddenly, all I wanted was a family. If it hadn’t been for that post… My alarm blared, and I wiped the tears from my eyes before driving to the airport. While I was waiting for Sophie in the terminal, IndigoSky updated her comment thread. [That was close. For a second, I thought the heart I worked so hard for was about to slip away.] [Good thing I’m smart. I used a little reverse psychology and calmed him down.] [I even made him a special breakfast. I’m sure he’ll be really touched when he sees it!] “Asher, you haven’t eaten, have you? Look what I brought you!” I hadn’t even finished reading the comment when Sophie appeared before me, holding a lunchbox. It was identical to the one in the picture IndigoSky had just posted. My appetite vanished. “I already ate. You can have it.” I turned and walked toward the security gate alone. A flicker of disappointment crossed Sophie’s face, but she quickly caught up. I didn’t say another word to her until we were in our seats on the plane. Even when she tried to lean in and talk to me, I just turned my head away and pretended to be asleep. I heard her let out a faint, almost inaudible sigh beside me. All I felt was a chilling cold.

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After six years in the shadows, my CEO girlfriend, Veronica, finally agreed to let me meet her parents. But then she stayed out all night. The next morning, she strolled into the office, bold as brass, with a love bite on her neck and her first love, Spencer, at her side. They chatted as if no one else existed, completely ignoring me, her actual boyfriend. A colleague whispered, “Isn’t that the new guy? Started a few days ago, right? Wow, he moves fast. Already latched onto the boss. Just another pretty boy looking for a sugar mama.” Before I could say a word, Veronica’s voice cut through the office. “Spencer is a top graduate I hired myself. If you lack his talent, don’t resort to petty jealousy. I won’t have anyone speaking ill of him!” The vice president, one of the few who knew about us, sidled up to me. “Who’s this guy? I thought you were the boss’s boyfriend.” A bitter smirk touched my lips. “Not for much longer.” The VP stared, confused, but Veronica was already marching toward me. “Your performance has been slipping lately,” she announced, her voice cold. “I’m putting you on the back burner for now. Spencer will take over your projects. You will assist him.” The office went silent. I had been by Veronica’s side since the company was just a dream. I was, without a doubt, the driving force behind our success. My performance had never been anything but stellar. Yet here she was, demoting me for no reason. And for what? To play second fiddle to a rookie who’d been here less than a week. I stared back at her, my face a mask of ice. My silence seemed to irritate her. Her brow furrowed. “Did you not hear me?” A smug look flickered in Spencer’s eyes. He smiled, a saccharine, condescending expression. “Finn has been with you since the beginning, Veronica. He probably has a bit of an ego. I doubt he’s willing to be my assistant.” His passive-aggressive tone dripped with poison. Veronica scoffed. “An ego? What right does he have to an ego? If it weren’t for me, his community college degree wouldn’t have even gotten him through the door. All I’m doing is revoking the special privileges I gave him, and he can’t handle it?” “Does he really think he can throw his seniority in my face?” Her words painted me as a useless leech, coasting on tenure. But my contributions to this company were greater than hers, and she knew it. That community college degree? That was because of her too. Veronica and I both came from nothing. We bonded over a shared dream: to make it big in this city, no matter what. But her family couldn’t afford the steep tuition and living costs. They were going to force her into an arranged marriage for the dowry. She had cried in my arms, begging me to help her, telling me she didn’t want to drop out. Because I loved her, I gave her every penny I had saved for my own tuition. I dropped out of university myself. I took grueling jobs in filthy restaurant kitchens, working my fingers to the bone just so she could have a better life. It wasn’t until two years ago, after our company finally took off, that I had a moment to breathe. I enrolled in a community college, planning to finish my bachelor’s degree. But she told me the company needed me. She asked me to put my education on hold again. So yes, my highest level of education is an associate’s degree. She knew exactly why. And now, she was using it as a weapon to humiliate me. I felt the weight of every stare in the room—disdain, pity, judgment. I clenched my fists. But when my eyes met her cold, unforgiving gaze, the fight drained out of me. The woman who had once looked at me with so much love was gone. A bitter laugh escaped my lips. I turned, walked to the printer, and printed a single sheet of paper. My resignation. “If I’m just a community college grad,” I said, my voice flat, “then I guess I don’t belong here. After all, the minimum requirement for this company is a bachelor’s degree.” Veronica was stunned. She clearly hadn’t expected this. But she recovered quickly, her expression hardening. “I don’t care if this is some power play or a pathetic attempt to make me feel guilty. Once you walk out that door, you’re not coming back. This isn’t a revolving door, Finn.” I gave her a single, emotionless glance. “I know.” As I turned to leave, Spencer leaned in and whispered something in her ear. Her face contorted with disgust. “So that’s your game,” she spat, her voice dripping with venom. I had no idea what she was talking about. Then she threw a file onto my desk. It was a contract I had just secured a few days ago. Spencer made a show of clicking his tongue. “Finn, everyone knows you’re tight with Mr. Peterson from this client. The deal isn’t even finalized yet. You quitting now… it’s pretty obvious you’re trying to use this to blackmail the company, aren’t you?” “I get that you’re upset about being my assistant, but this is what the CEO wants. You can’t just defy her, can you?” The look of betrayal on Veronica’s face told me she believed him completely. The old me would have frantically tried to explain, to plead my case, to assure her I would never do such a thing. But now? All I wanted to do was laugh. She knew. Deep down, she knew I was the one holding this company together, but her pride would never let her admit it. So she crushed me with one hand while using me with the other. Before, I had tolerated it because I loved her. Now, I just felt like a fool. I had sacrificed my future for a woman who wouldn’t even give me the title of “boyfriend” in public. I had lost my pride, my dignity, everything. The rage that should have been boiling inside me was gone, replaced by a calm, chilling emptiness. I copied all the relevant files from my computer onto a drive and placed it on the desk. “Here are all the project details, including the final quotes. You can use this to move forward. I won’t say a word to the client.” I turned and walked away without another word. I could feel a burning gaze on my back, but I didn’t look back. The moment I stepped out of the building, the air felt cleaner, fresher. I hadn’t even had a chance to enjoy it when Veronica came running after me. She grabbed my arm, her brow furrowed with accusation. “I say a few words and you just walk out? What is that supposed to mean? You were the one who said you wanted to step back and let me run the company!” A cold laugh echoed in my chest. “I agreed to step back, Veronica. I never agreed to let you cheat on me!” She had been out all night, then shown up with a love bite and Spencer on her arm. And then she had the audacity to demand I work as an assistant for that clueless pretty boy. I may be loyal, but I’m not an idiot. “Cheat on you?” she stomped her foot, her voice rising. “What are you talking about? Spencer and I are just friends! Stop being so jealous!” Before I could retort, Spencer appeared, an apologetic look plastered on his face. “I’m so sorry, Finn. I had no idea you were resigning because you were jealous.” “But I was out with clients last night for the company. I had too much to drink, and Veronica was just looking out for me. Nothing happened between us, I swear. Please don’t misunderstand.” As he spoke, he deliberately angled his head, revealing a series of fresh scratch marks on his neck. The little bastard was provoking me. The old Finn would have exploded, demanding Veronica swear she would never see Spencer again. But after years of fighting the same battles, I was done. She would never change. And I had no desire to continue this pathetic dance. I said nothing, my face a cold mask. Veronica took the initiative, her hand finding mine. “I know you’re just acting out because you’re jealous. I’ll let it slide this time.” “We have a very important dinner meeting tonight. It can’t happen without you. Please, just pull yourself together and come with me.” Her voice was soft, a clear attempt at reconciliation. But it just sounded like a cruel joke. If it weren’t for this dinner, she wouldn’t have even bothered chasing after me. My eyes drifted to Spencer, and my blood ran cold. He was wearing my shirt. It was the shirt Veronica had bought me for our third anniversary. I cherished it. I barely ever wore it, saving it for special occasions. Now, it was wrinkled and reeked of stale smoke and cheap liquor. I’d been wondering where it went after I’d left it out to dry a few days ago. Veronica must have given it to him. I noticed several small, yellowed cigarette burns on the sleeve. Something I had treasured, treated with such disrespect. Pathetic. And hilarious. My expression didn’t change. Veronica sighed. “Fine. If you come to the dinner tonight, I won’t change your position. Happy now?” I remained silent. “You’re just afraid of Spencer being promoted above you, aren’t you?” she continued, as if talking to herself. “So I’ll make you both equals. There. Are you satisfied? If I wasn’t worried about upsetting you, Spencer would have been in management from day one.” I finally looked her in the eye. “Promote him if you want. It has nothing to do with me.” Her face darkened. “What is that supposed to mean?” I laughed, a dry, humorless sound. “I already gave you my resignation. I have nothing to do with this company, and you have no reason to tell me any of this.” “Also, we’re breaking up.” Veronica’s eyes widened in disbelief. “What did you say?” I pulled out my phone and blocked her number right in front of her. “Do I really need to explain what ‘breaking up’ means?” “You dare break up with me?” Veronica hissed, her teeth clenched. “You were just telling me you wanted to meet my parents! What is this, some kind of game?” I pointed at Spencer with my chin. “Oh, so you do remember that? For a minute there, I thought you’d forgotten.” “How was the bar last night?” Yesterday was the day. The day we had planned for over six months. The day I was finally supposed to meet her parents. I had spent a fortune on gifts, wanting to make the best possible impression. I waited on the couch all day. From morning until night. Veronica never came. Instead, I saw Spencer’s smug post on social media. A picture from a loud, crowded bar. Veronica was curled up in his lap, their bodies pressed together intimately for all the world to see. I waited for an explanation. An apology. I got nothing. In fact, she had clearly forgotten all about it, demanding I become Spencer’s assistant without a shred of guilt. She was heartless. “I already told you,” she snapped, her defensiveness flaring into anger, “the company isn’t public yet! It’s still small! You know my parents favor my brother over me. We have nothing to show for ourselves, so how can we get married? You never try to understand my pressure, you just keep pushing me to meet them!” “So what if I went out for a drink to blow off some steam?” I laughed until I couldn’t breathe. “Nothing’s wrong with it. Do whatever you want. It has nothing to do with me.” Spencer, dropping his apologetic act, stepped in front of Veronica. “You’re the one making wild accusations. The CEO and I have a clear conscience. We have nothing to hide!” Veronica looked at Spencer with gratitude, then turned to me, her eyes filled with resentment. “If you want to throw a tantrum, fine. I’ve said all I’m going to say.” Tears of frustration welled in her eyes. Watching the scene unfold, I felt nothing. It was almost funny. Whenever we had a problem, Veronica never tried to solve it. She would just throw a fit. And if that didn’t work, she would cry until I gave in. She was using the same old trick. But this time, I didn’t react. I just turned and walked away. She screamed my name, absolutely furious. But I only ever caved because I loved her. Without love, she was just a stranger. I deleted everything that reminded me of her. Then I sent a message to my best friend, who was living abroad. “I’m in. Let’s start that import-export business.” I was about to call him to catch up when my phone rang. An unknown number. “Hello, is this Mr. Finnian Reed? Your father’s medical bills are two weeks overdue. We’ve been trying to call you, but we couldn’t get through. We had to stop his treatment a few days ago. He passed away that same day. We were calling to ask when you would be available to… collect the body.” The world tilted. I couldn’t breathe. “What did you say?” I asked, my voice a strangled whisper. My father was the only family I had left. A car accident years ago had left him in a coma, a vegetable. He was kept alive by machines and IV drips in the ICU. To keep him alive, I had arranged for my entire salary to be deposited into a dedicated account that the hospital could draw from directly. How could the bills be overdue? The person on the other end repeated, “The card you provided for the hospital was frozen two weeks ago. We’ve been trying to contact you, but the number we have on file is no longer in service…” I was the second-in-command at the company. There was no reason for accounting to freeze my account. There was only one person who could have done this…

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After the ninety-ninth failed round of IVF, my husband, whose low sperm count was the official problem, spoke with a chilling coldness. “Isabelle is just so fertile. I touch her, and she gets pregnant. Unlike you.” He stood there, holding the hand of Isabelle, the imposter heiress who had been raised as my sister, and gave me three choices. One, I could turn a blind eye and continue playing the part of the CEO’s wife. Two, I could take ten million dollars and disappear. Three, I could leave with nothing. Everyone in the city knew how proud I was, how desperately I loved Vincent Ashwood. They expected a storm. They expected me to shatter with jealousy, to burn everything to the ground rather than accept defeat. But I didn’t cry. I didn’t scream. I calmly pushed the check back across the table. “Let the child call me ‘Mother.’ I’ll continue to be a good Mrs. Ashwood.” After all, this was my third rebirth. 1 In my first life, I chose to walk away with my pride and nothing else. In the second, I swallowed that pride and took the ten million. Both paths led to a horrific end. So, in this third life, I figured the three of us could just make it work. It would be a tight squeeze, but we’d manage. Vincent’s handsome face froze, his eyes wide with disbelief. “Audrina, you’re actually willing to accept another woman carrying my child?” I reached out and straightened the collar of his shirt, my touch making his jaw tighten. I offered him a perfectly gentle, perfectly composed smile. “After all these years, after all the needles and the hormones and the agony of one failed procedure after another… wasn’t the goal for you to have a child? Now that my dear Isabelle has helped us, why on earth would I object?” Isabelle’s pretty face went pale. She bit her lip, the fury in her eyes practically spilling over. She must have pictured me screaming, clawing, a hysterical mess. She never imagined I’d be applauding. “Audrina, I thought you’d be furious,” she stammered. “I didn’t expect… Anyone would think you don’t love Vincent anymore.” Vincent’s sharp gaze shot to me. I just smiled and patted her shoulder. “Oh, don’t be silly. There are many ways to love. Learning to love what he loves is just one of them.” In my first life, I had chosen to leave with nothing. Too proud to take his dirty money. But what could a housewife, detached from the professional world for years, possibly do? I couldn’t even land a decent clerical job. I ended up in a dingy apartment, chewing on stale bread, living a miserable existence. Even then, Isabelle wouldn’t let me be. She arranged a “car accident” that ended my life. In my second life, I learned my lesson. I took the ten million. I thought it was my ticket to a new beginning. But without connections or resources, starting a business was a nightmare. The one time I found a seemingly reliable partner, it was a trap. The night I was cornered on a rooftop by debt collectors, I heard Isabelle’s mocking laughter through a jumbled phone call. “Vincent never had a fertility problem. He’d been slipping her birth control pills all along. He only married her to get her family’s investment in the Ashwood Corporation. Now that she’s useless, did she really think she could just start over? Of course she had to die.” When I opened my eyes again, I decided to just give up fighting. They were a match made in hell, a bitch and a dog. How could I possibly tear them apart? The three of us would be perfectly cozy together. My magnanimity clearly threw Vincent off balance. He frowned, studying me with a confused expression, but his words were a warning. “Then you’d better play the part of Mrs. Ashwood well. If you dare lay a hand on Isabelle, don’t blame me for being merciless.” I gave him a sweet, brilliant smile and immediately got to work. “Isabelle can’t be traveling back and forth in her condition. She can stay in the guest room from now on. She can focus on the baby, and I’ll take good care of her.” Isabelle’s face immediately crumpled into a mask of distress. “I’m carrying Vincent’s child, and you want me to stay in a guest room? So far from the baby’s father? Are you trying to separate us on purpose?” “You’re right, how thoughtless of me,” I said, not giving anyone a chance to argue. I turned to the butler. “In that case, please move Mr. Ashwood’s things into the guest room as well. We wouldn’t want them to suffer a long-distance relationship under the same roof.” Isabelle’s eyes widened. Before she could launch into a tearful complaint, I turned my smiling gaze on Vincent. “Darling, you’re the father. It’s best for the baby’s development if you stay with the expectant mother. You can’t possibly be thinking of staying in the master bedroom with me. That would break poor Isabelle’s heart, wouldn’t it?” Isabelle bit her lip. Vincent’s eyes softened as he looked at her, pulling her into a gentle embrace. “I’ll stay with you and the baby. Come on, let’s go rest.” They walked up the stairs arm in arm, a picture of intimacy. In another life, the sight would have driven me mad with jealousy and rage. Now, I simply returned to the master bedroom and made a phone call I never thought I’d make. “We have a deal. I become a major shareholder in your group, and you help me destroy the Ashwoods.” 2. That evening, I slid a document across the desk to Vincent. “I’ve drafted a postnuptial agreement regarding our assets. Take a look.” Vincent scoffed, annoyed. “You want to talk about money with me now?” My eyes welled with tears, but I fought them back, my voice trembling with practiced vulnerability. “I’ve endured so many needles, so much pain. My body is broken, my pride is gone, and now I have to take care of the woman carrying your child,” I said, my voice cracking just so. “I haven’t uttered a single complaint. All I’m asking for is access to your supplementary credit card to do some shopping, to buy a few dresses. Is that too much to ask?” Vincent looked at me, his expression a complex mix of guilt and impatience. “As long as you behave, my money is your money. Spend what you want.” I watched, a serene smile on my face, as he signed the papers. My heart was a frozen stone in my chest. He had no idea that his signature had just given me complete control over his liquid assets. How I spent it was now entirely up to me. The next afternoon, dressed to the nines, I met my best friend Sophie for a shopping spree. In my previous lives, I had been so consumed by my love for Vincent that I’d pushed everyone away. Sophie had tried to talk sense into me a few times, but eventually, she gave up. I had died utterly alone. When I stood before her now, she was stunned. “Audrina? You actually ditched Vincent to go shopping with me? I heard the imposter heiress moved in with a bun in the oven. I expected you to be either drowning in tears or sharpening a butcher knife. You look tired, but… surprisingly calm.” I looked at my reflection in the shop window. My face was young, yet etched with a profound exhaustion. For three lifetimes, Vincent had used his family as an excuse, pressuring me, insisting I had to produce an heir or he’d divorce me. I loved him, so I threw myself into the brutal cycle of IVF, torturing my body for two years until I was a ghost of my former self. The irony was that I wasn’t the one who couldn’t conceive. It was him, feeding me birth control pills after every time we were intimate. He watched me suffer, offered no comfort, and then had the audacity to call me useless. How utterly, cruelly absurd. And I, for a man who had plotted my ruin from the start, had thrown away my friends, destroyed my health, and twisted my own life into a pathetic knot. I sighed. “I’m twenty-seven, Sophie, not seventeen. If he were madly in love with me, maybe I’d fight for him. But for a cheating bastard like him? He’s not worth a single tear.” Sophie stared at me for a long moment, then pulled me into a fierce, relieved hug. “It’s about damn time, you idiot! You gave up everything for him, running to clinics and trying crazy remedies until you ran yourself ragged. IVF is agony, and you did it ninety-nine times? Your stomach must be a pincushion. Were you crazy?” This life, I had been reborn on the very day of my ninety-ninth IVF failure. It was too late to stop myself from that last act of lovesick foolishness. But it wasn’t too late to choose a different way to live. I hugged her back tightly. “Never again. From now on, I live for me.” Elated, Sophie dragged me to an exclusive nightclub. The doors opened to reveal two rows of handsome young men, each with a unique style. “Audrina, take your pick! Tonight’s on me! We’re celebrating your escape from prison, your glorious rebirth!” I’d never been interested in men from places like this. But then I thought about it. I did need a child. And as it happened, today was my ovulation day. My eyes scanned the room, landing on a young man in a crisp white shirt. His silhouette was lean and sharp, the line from his neck to his shoulder clean and elegant. His long, slender fingers held a quiet, magnetic allure. Sophie followed my gaze. “That’s Noah. A university student, works part-time. Brilliant kid, but proud. He never takes clients.” I put down my glass and walked over to him. “Are you clean?” The young man looked up, his gaze intense. “I’ve never been with a woman.” I was satisfied. “Spend the night with me. Name your price.” He stared at me for a few seconds, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. One of the other hosts stepped forward nervously. “I’m sorry, miss, but Noah’s situation is unique, he doesn’t…” But Noah raised a hand, his dark eyes locked on mine. “Okay.” That night, he carried me into the presidential suite. He was a wolf, fierce and hungry. I cast aside the shackles and sorrows of my past two lives and let myself drown in the moment. My phone on the nightstand lit up and went dark, again and again. “Vincent Ashwood.” He called ninety-nine times before finally stopping. When it was over, I left cash on the table. As I walked out, ignoring the long list of missed calls, I didn’t see the man in the bed behind me watching my every move, his expression unreadable, as he answered a call of his own. “Brother, I’m not crazy. I know exactly who she is…” 3. When I got home, Vincent was sitting in the main armchair in the living room, his face a thundercloud. The ashtray in front of him was overflowing with cigarette butts. “Audrina!” he roared. “Where were you last night? Why didn’t you answer my calls?!” Isabelle clung to his arm, her voice a timid whisper. “Vincent, don’t be so harsh… Maybe Audrina was just upset and needed some space.” I calmly slipped off my heels and handed my purse to a waiting maid before I finally met his furious gaze. “I was out with Sophie. Had a few drinks with some guys to blow off steam. Is there a problem?” “You are Mrs. Ashwood!” Vincent’s rage boiled over at my indifference. “You went out drinking with other men? Am I dead to you?” I patted his shoulder condescendingly. “Now, now, what did we agree on yesterday? I’m going to be the perfect Mrs. Ashwood. You and Isabelle can be as lovey-dovey as you want. That’s wonderful for you, but I get lonely. And since you’re otherwise occupied, I naturally have to find someone who’s available to comfort me.” Vincent was so angry he could barely speak. Isabelle quickly fanned the flames. “Audrina, how could you be so shameless? Vincent is only being kind to me because you can’t have children. But to betray him like this… you’re breaking his heart!” Even now, they were trying to use that lie to make me feel guilty, to shame me into submission. My hands clenched into fists, but I kept the smile on my face. “As you said, I can’t have children. After ninety-nine failed IVF attempts, it’s pretty clear that even if I did ‘betray’ him, I wouldn’t end up pregnant like some people. So you can relax.” I turned my smile on her. “And you’re a pregnant woman, Isabelle. You need to keep your emotions stable. Stop trying to stir up trouble, alright? Be good.” A flicker of guilt crossed both their faces. I ignored them and turned to the butler. “From this day forward, Miss Isabelle’s meals are to be prepared with the utmost care. Five nourishing soups a day. Bird’s nest, sea cucumber, fish maw… only the highest quality ingredients. We must ensure she and the baby get all the nutrients they need.” Isabelle looked stunned. “Audrina, I can’t possibly eat that much…” “Of course you can! You’re eating for two! Don’t worry about your figure. The baby’s health is what matters.” Isabelle had always been vain about her looks. At the mention of her figure, a flicker of anxiety crossed her face. She looked to Vincent for help. “Vincent, I don’t want to…” Vincent, already agitated, just waved a dismissive hand. “Just listen to her.” I took Isabelle’s hand, my touch cloyingly affectionate. “Dearest, during pregnancy, hormonal changes can cause weight gain, skin discoloration, acne, even hair loss… it’s all perfectly normal. Please don’t worry. I will take the best care of you and the baby.” My words were soft and soothing, but Isabelle’s palm was slick with sweat. She saw my concern as a threat. Publicly, she drank the nourishing broths I had the kitchen prepare. Privately, she forced herself to throw them up. To maintain her figure, she spent two hours a day in the gym, ate nothing but salads, and secretly hired a prenatal yoga instructor to create a “no weight gain” plan. I watched it all unfold as I selected a gown for the upcoming anniversary gala. “Miss Isabelle is very active,” I instructed the butler. “Add an extra portion of soup to her daily menu. And make sure you watch her drink every last drop.” I was curious to see what kind of baby could survive that kind of prenatal abuse. 4. That weekend, I slipped into a haute couture gown, adorned myself with jewels, and made my way to the Ashwood Corporation’s anniversary gala. As always, the guests flattered and fawned over me. I moved through the crowd with a practiced smile, the perfect corporate wife. Half an hour into the event, Vincent arrived. And on his arm, her belly just beginning to show, was Isabelle. The room erupted in whispers. “Isn’t that the fake Jiang family heiress? With Mr. Ashwood?” “So the rumors are true! She really moved in! That must be his baby!” “The real wife must be losing her mind. This is going to be a bloodbath.” Isabelle saw me, a triumphant smirk playing on her lips. As they passed me, she suddenly stumbled, lurching towards me. I was ready for it and sidestepped neatly. But she grabbed my wrist, using the momentum to throw herself backward. “Audrina… why did you push me?” she cried, her face instantly pale. She clutched her stomach, tears welling in her eyes. “Vincent, my stomach… it hurts…” Vincent’s face turned to stone. He raised his hand and slapped me, hard, across the face. “Audrina, she’s your sister! And she’s pregnant! Can’t you show a shred of decency?” The sting of his handprint bloomed across my cheek. After everything they’d done to me in my past lives, the pain didn’t break my heart. It just filled my chest with pure, unadulterated rage. “If I couldn’t stand the sight of her, she never would have set foot in the Ashwood mansion in the first place, let alone be here now, flaunting herself and slandering me in public.” Vincent’s gaze flickered to Isabelle. She just clutched his arm, her eyes red and pleading. “Vincent, you believe her? Not me?” His face hardened again. “Audrina, I don’t want to hear your excuses. Apologize to Isabelle. Now.” “I did nothing wrong,” I said, my voice like ice. Isabelle’s sobs grew louder. Vincent’s eyes were cold slits. “If you’re going to be this stubborn, then fine. As of today, the monthly allowance stipulated in our agreement is suspended. When you’re ready to get on your knees and apologize to Isabelle, we can discuss reinstating it.” A bitter laugh escaped my lips. I couldn’t believe I’d actually tried to reason with a cheating, abusive bastard. I twisted the wedding ring from my finger, a ring I had worn for three lifetimes, and threw it at his face. “A man who cherishes his wife finds fortune. A man who abuses her loses everything. You’re choosing your mistress over me, Vincent. I hope you don’t live to regret it.” With that, I turned and walked away, not bothering to look back at the fury contorting his handsome features. In the days that followed, the household staff, sensing the shift in power, began to ignore my orders. They served me leftovers, cold and congealed. The internet, meanwhile, exploded with stories about me. “ASHWOOD CEO’S WIFE, BARREN FOR YEARS, DRIVEN MAD WITH JEALOUSY, ATTACKS PREGNANT SISTER.” “MRS. ASHWOOD’S SECRET LIFE: NIGHTS OF DEBAUCHERY WITH MALE ESCORTS.” “THE TRUTH REVEALED: VINCENT ASHWOOD DRIVEN INTO ANOTHER WOMAN’S ARMS BY HIS TOXIC, INFERTILE WIFE.” Suddenly, I, the victim, was a pariah, a villain in a story they had written for me. Vincent saw the headlines and offered me an ultimatum. “If you kneel and beg Isabelle for forgiveness, I’ll make these stories disappear. I’ll even let you save face at the family dinner tonight.” I glanced at the text message that had just arrived on my phone. The final piece was in place. Tonight, the trap would spring. I looked up at him. “You’re the one who leaked these stories. You’re the one who’s hurting me. The one who should be kneeling is you.” “You’re insane!” he spat, laughing with rage as he slammed the door on his way out. At the family dinner, I was seated at the far end of the long table, ignored and served nothing but cold appetizers. Isabelle, however, was seated right next to my mother-in-law, who held her hand affectionately. “Isabelle, dear, your belly is so pointed. It must be a boy,” she cooed. “Vincent, you must take good care of her. She’s the savior of the Ashwood family. Not like some people, who are not only useless but also a complete disgrace.” Everyone flocked around Isabelle, showering her with compliments, conveniently forgetting she was the other woman. They followed my mother-in-law’s lead, piling on the insults, each word a calculated sting. Isabelle kept glancing my way, her eyes glittering with triumph. Just then, Vincent’s assistant burst into the dining room, his face ashen. “Mr. Ashwood, it’s a disaster! Apex Holdings just snatched the development rights for the Eastside Core property!” he panted. “And our shipping contracts, the tech park project… several key suppliers just pulled out simultaneously! They said Apex made a better offer! Sir, our core assets are being poached! At this rate, the company is going to collapse!” Vincent shot to his feet, stunned. “How is that possible? Where would they get that kind of liquid capital?” The assistant was sweating profusely, his voice trembling. “I checked, sir. A new major shareholder invested in Apex Holdings two weeks ago. A massive infusion of capital. That new shareholder is… it’s your wife.” The room fell into a dead, suffocating silence. Vincent’s head snapped towards me, his eyes filled with utter disbelief. “Audrina. Was this you?” I met his gaze, my smile as sweet as poison. “Yes,” I said. “It was me.”

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The plot had finally run its course. I went home, thrilled to celebrate, only to accidentally overhear my son say: “Daddy, do we still have to pretend for Mommy?” “I want Auntie Chloe to be here for real.” Arthur stood nearby, his face showing a kind of relaxed relief I had never seen before. “Yeah. Let’s just get rid of Mommy, okay?” My son nodded emphatically. I turned around and threw the celebration gift I had bought right into the trash. I was even more thrilled. After all, the only reason I came to this world to play the role of the tragically abused female lead… Was to save my real husband and daughter back in my own world. 1 Holding the cake box, I stood just outside the half-open door of the nursery. The crack in the door couldn’t block out the conversation happening inside. “Daddy, am I really not going to get sick anymore?” My son, Leo’s, voice drifted out. “No.” Arthur only ever softened his tone when speaking to Leo. “The plot is over. There’s no risk of deviation anymore, so you won’t be punished with illness.” “What about Auntie Chloe?” Leo asked eagerly. “It’s all Mommy’s fault that Auntie Chloe always had to sneak around!” “If we didn’t have Mommy, we wouldn’t have to do things we hate.” “And you could be with Auntie Chloe for real, Daddy.” “Daddy, now that the plot is over, can you divorce Mommy?” The thin ribbon of the cake box was digging painfully into my hand. In the gift bag, there was a discontinued Lego set I had spent an entire month hunting down for him. The nursery was quiet for a moment. Arthur seemed to be considering it. “Okay. I’ll divorce your mother.” “Today is your birthday, so let’s just celebrate. Daddy will talk to her in a few days.” 2 Leo’s cheer slipped through the crack in the door and pierced my ears. A freezing chill washed over my entire body. Eight years ago. To save my husband and daughter who were in a horrific car crash, I agreed to the System’s demands. I transmigrated into this angsty romance novel. My mission was to strictly follow the plotline until the very end. If I deviated from the plot, the System would issue a “plot penalty.” Mild penalties meant illness; severe ones meant fatal accidents and forced extraction from this world. If I completed the plot smoothly, I would be rewarded with points to wake my husband and daughter from their comas. I wasn’t a very good host. From meeting Arthur at nineteen, stumbling through our relationship, to marrying him and giving birth to Leo at twenty-two… I had managed to drag us through more than half the plot, but the male lead, Arthur, eventually grew sick of me. I started getting sick frequently. At its worst, my vision blurred, and my hearing faded. Because I gave birth to Leo, he was also affected by the penalties, experiencing one-tenth of my pain. Leo cried day and night, his tiny body growing weaker and frailer. Risking total mission failure, I confessed the existence of the System to Arthur. I told him that if he left me, I would die, and Leo would die too. The only way out was to wait until the plot ended. At that time, there were only five years left. Arthur started forcing himself to stay by my side. Occasionally, we would fight, and Leo and I would both fall ill. I felt immensely guilty towards Leo. But Leo was always so understanding, taking his medicine and eating his meals on time. Gradually, we grew very close. Finally, just a few days ago, the System announced that the plot had concluded. I excitedly shared the news with Arthur. From now on, we were no longer shackled by the plot system. We could live freely. And I had a choice: I could either leave this world or stay. Selfishly, I didn’t want Leo to be lonely. So I planned to stay until he was an adult. But reality just delivered a brutal, crushing blow to my selfishness. 3 I turned around and dumped the cake and the toy straight into the trash can. Then, I pushed the door open and walked in. “I agree to the divorce.” I looked at Leo, my emotions a tangled mess. “Leo… Mommy didn’t know you liked Auntie Chloe so much. I also didn’t know… that you hated being my son so much.” “Making you suffer the plot penalties with me… that was Mommy’s fault.” A flash of embarrassed anger crossed Leo’s small face. He had been caught. He didn’t know how to lie yet, nor how to hide his true feelings. He just stuck his neck out and accused me: “Mommy was eavesdropping! Bad Mommy! This is exactly why I don’t like you! You’re bad!” Even though I was mentally prepared. Hearing the child I carried for nine months say he hated me with his own mouth… It still made my nose sting. Arthur looked surprised, but he didn’t stop Leo. He seemed to gather his thoughts, finally just nodding. “Fine. Sorry for keeping it from you for so long.” “I’ll have my lawyer send you the divorce agreement. Whatever you want as compensation, just name it.” “Let’s get this over with quickly… I owe Chloe too much. I can’t wait to make it up to her anymore.” Leo huffed and yelled, “Me too! Auntie Chloe is so nice, but Mommy was so unreasonable and chased her away! I don’t want a mommy like this!” My heart turned completely to ash. A few years ago, Chloe had tried to harm Leo several times. Even if the plot hadn’t dictated it, I would have found a way to get rid of her for Leo’s sake. I thought I had succeeded. But looking at them now. I had been played. “WARNING—” “Abnormality detected in the plot’s conclusion! Severe character deviation!” The System’s alarm and a piercing siren exploded in my head. “Host, please repair the plot within seven days, or the scenario will be forcibly terminated!” I clutched my head in agony. Wasn’t the plot over? “System, what is going on?” I asked frantically. “…Apologies, Host. It seems we were both deceived.” “Plot monitoring is conducted solely from the Host’s perspective, and characters actively deceiving the System is unprecedented… This was an oversight on our part.” The System’s mechanical voice hummed slowly. “However, since this System also failed to detect the character anomaly, we will bear a portion of the responsibility.” “Even if the plot repair fails within seven days, your points will still be awarded.” A wave of relief washed over me. When I snapped back to reality, Arthur and Leo were staring at me nervously. They knew that whenever I spaced out like that, I was communicating with the System. “Is the System back? What’s going on? Didn’t you say the plot was over?” Arthur’s tone was laced with anxiety. “It’s not going to punish Leo or Chloe, is it?” Leo covered his mouth, his big eyes darting around. “I-I take back what I just said!” I waited a moment. Seeing that neither father nor son had any intention of showing concern for me, I suddenly laughed. “No, it won’t,” I said, a bitter smile on my lips. “Also, Leo, happy birthday.” “Your birthday present is your freedom.” I immediately abandoned any thought of repairing the plot. I just had to wait out the seven days for the failure, and then I would be forcibly extracted. 4 Arthur truly couldn’t wait a single second. He completely bypassed the mandatory thirty-day “cooling-off” period for divorce and went straight to litigation. After getting the final divorce decree, I packed a few clothes. As I was about to leave the Sterling mansion, I couldn’t help but ask Leo, “Leo, if you never see Mommy again after today… will you be sad?” Leo was playing with his blocks and didn’t even look up. “Mommy, why are you starting this again?!” “You used that exact same line to chase Auntie Chloe away and force Daddy to stay with you! Are you trying to force me now too?!” My entire body went rigid. Right. I was the one who told them that if the plot deviated too much, I would die. But I never told them that if the plot became completely illogical, this entire world would cease to exist. Because of that, the Host and the characters were supposed to rely on each other to survive. But I didn’t want to burden Arthur and Leo, so I kept that part a secret. “Leo… I’m sorry. Mommy won’t say it again,” I said softly. “But… Mommy is truly going to disappear.” “You’re so annoying!” Leo suddenly grabbed a wooden block and hurled it at me. His little face was scrunched up in deep irritation. “Disappear! Disappear! Then just go disappear!” I couldn’t dodge in time. The block hit me squarely on the bridge of my nose. A flood of complex, agonizing emotions rushed over me all at once. Clutching my nose, I suddenly felt my body grow light. My five senses blurred for a fraction of a second. The plot had deviated again. I took a deep breath, reaching out to stroke Leo’s hair. He dodged my hand, moving to another spot to continue playing with his blocks. I sighed. “Fine. You have Chloe anyway. She’ll be with you.” Walking out of the Sterling estate, I stood by the curb waiting for a cab. A bright red sports car came roaring down the street. It slammed on the brakes right next to me. The window rolled down, revealing a face remarkably similar to mine, but far more vibrant and beautiful. It was Chloe. Arthur’s childhood sweetheart, the ‘white moonlight’ supporting character. Originally, as the substitute female lead, my role was to erase her influence and make Arthur fall in love with the real me. But obviously, I failed. Instead, I was completely played by their united front. “Elara, long time no see.” Chloe’s smile was arrogant and radiant. She flashed the massive pink, heart-shaped diamond on her finger. “Arthur and I are getting married the day after tomorrow. You have to come.” Seeing that familiar diamond, my heart skipped a beat. When I married Arthur, the plot required me to wear that exact pink diamond ring. But Arthur felt the ring didn’t suit me. I thought it was a trivial detail. So I broke the plot rule and wore the square-cut diamond he gave me instead. The very next day, I was hit with a plot penalty. I “accidentally” fell down the stairs and was bedridden for three months. I was so confused back then. It was just a minor descriptive deviation; the penalty shouldn’t have been that severe. Looking at it now, the pink diamond was definitely a crucial plot point. It wasn’t that the ring didn’t suit me. It was that I didn’t deserve it. “Congratulations,” I said coldly. A flash of blinding white light crossed my vision. That uncontrollable sensation of weightlessness hit me again. At this rate, I wouldn’t even need seven days. I’d be forcibly ripped from this world much sooner. “Arthur told me you were using that ‘disappearing’ threat again,” Chloe said mockingly. “But since the plot is over, don’t you think trying that trick now is a little too fake?” I ignored her. The plot deviation was irreversible anyway. This world was on the brink of annihilation. 5 Day Six of the countdown. I didn’t bother renting an apartment. Instead, I booked a luxury hotel suite, planning to just lie there and wait for the plot to collapse. “Plot monitoring is conducted solely from the Host’s perspective.” The System’s notification pinged suddenly. I watched the news about Arthur’s upcoming wedding on TV and gave a noncommittal “Mhm.” I turned off the TV and opened my phone. The gossip blogs were flooded with pictures of their sickeningly sweet, smiling faces. He must feel incredibly guilty to want the entire world to witness how he was making it up to her. “Therefore, the Host must personally witness the wedding of Arthur and Chloe for this System to accurately assess the degree of plot deviation.” I blinked and sat up straight. No wonder I hadn’t felt that weightless sensation all day. “System, do you ever think you’re fundamentally bugged?” I asked helplessly. The System was silent for a moment. “This System will submit an application for an upgrade.” “However, if it weren’t for this bug, given your… capabilities, Host, it would have been impossible for you to reach the end of the plotline.” I choked on the System’s bluntness. “You…” “Host, please witness the plot event as soon as possible,” the mechanical voice said, carrying a hint of what sounded almost like pity. “You will be extracted from this world very soon.” Day Five of the countdown. I wore a simple, elegant white dress to attend Arthur’s wedding. The ceremony was held on a pristine white sand beach. The weather was clear, the ocean breeze gentle. The venue was transformed into a sea of flowers; even the aisle was carpeted with pink petals. The System, worried I might be harassed, suggested I wear a mask and sunglasses to disguise myself. I smiled and declined. I found a crystal chair near the front and sat down, waiting for the ceremony to begin. From this angle and distance, I would have a crystal-clear view of Arthur and Chloe’s expressions. “Host, actually, you…” The System was unusually chatty today. I shook my head. “Don’t worry about me. Honestly, seeing how little they care about me, I feel relieved.” “Of course I’m sad, but I’m much more excited about my life when I get back.” Thinking about that, I grabbed a napkin from the table. With a few quick folds, I created a little teddy bear. “Look. Whenever my daughter threw a tantrum back home, I would quickly fold one of these little bears to cheer her up.” “Thank goodness I haven’t forgotten how to do it.” I held the little bear up, inspecting it from different angles. Behind me, a familiar, sweet little voice rang out: “Mommy, why are you here?” I turned around and saw Leo dressed in an adorable pageboy tuxedo. He was holding a flower basket. Inside the basket rested a pink velvet ring box. Instinctively, I wanted to reach out and hug him. My hand extended, then I forcefully pulled it back. Leo’s expression was incredibly defensive. He clutched the flower basket tightly, his childish words cutting deep: “Are you here to try and break up Daddy and chase Auntie Chloe away again?!” Everyone around us immediately turned to stare. I smiled. “You misunderstood, Leo. Auntie Chloe invited Mommy to attend her and Daddy’s wedding.” Leo froze for a second. He clearly didn’t expect me to say that. Scratching his head, he noticed the little bear in my hand. “Mommy, what’s that?” He reached out to grab it. I dodged his hand and gently pushed him away. “Leo, this isn’t your toy. You can’t just take it.” Leo’s eyes went wide. He dropped the flower basket on the ground and lunged at me stubbornly. “Mommy, I want to play with that!” I held the little bear high, but it was suddenly snatched from my hand. I looked up. Arthur, looking immaculate in his tailored suit, had silently appeared behind me. He gripped the little bear, inspecting it. He looked down at me. “Elara, these pathetic little tricks won’t win Leo over. It’s useless.”

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