Author: Momo Chan

Eight years after losing my daughter, my IVF treatments finally succeeded, and I was pregnant with a new life. But just one week before my due date, I was in a severe car accident, nearly killing both me and my unborn child. The driver who hit me was the exact same man who had run over and killed my daughter eight years ago. The moment I was discharged from the hospital, I went straight to the police precinct to provide a statement and press charges. But that very night, the case was dropped. At the station, I saw my husband—the man who hadn’t visited me a single time while I was fighting for my life in the ICU. Standing right beside him was a young, crying woman. “It was an accident,” the girl sobbed pitifully. “If Evelyn hadn’t gone out in the middle of the night, the crash wouldn’t have happened. My dad is innocent.” “Carter, I was separated from my dad for eight years because of her. I really don’t want to know what it feels like to lose him again. Please, you have to help me.” Carter pulled her into his arms, his eyes brimming with absolute devotion. “Shh, be good. I’m here. Nothing is going to happen to your dad.” … The words of confrontation choked in my throat. Before I could even react, Carter turned to me, his face turning ice-cold. “The charges have been dropped. I’ve already spoken to the District Attorney and signed a waiver of prosecution on your behalf. Drop it, Evelyn. Don’t pursue this anymore.” I stared into Carter’s calm, emotionless eyes. My voice was completely hoarse. “You know exactly how much I sacrificed to get pregnant with this child. You know how desperately I needed this baby. Why?” “Why are you doing this to me?” My voice was barely a whisper. Carter’s pupils trembled for a fraction of a second before hardening back into cold indifference. “We can always have another child. We can try again.” “But Chloe can’t lose her father again.” I let out a broken, hollow laugh. I lost all strength to argue. This was the eighth year since I lost my daughter. It was the ninth month of carrying my new baby. For eight long years, there wasn’t a single second where I didn’t pray to the universe to give me a second chance. I promised I would protect this tiny new life with everything I had. I swore I would never let her get hurt. But I never even got to see her face. Before I could even process what was happening, the suspect—Frank—was released from the holding cell. Walking out into the lobby, the heavy-set man gave Carter a sycophantic, greasy smile. “You’re a reasonable man, Mr. Vance. This whole thing was just a big misunderstanding. Honestly, maybe your wife is just cursed to be barren. No matter how hard she tries, she just can’t keep a kid.” “But hey, no worries! My daughter is currently carrying your seed, right? Twins, too! Now that’s what I call a real blessing.” I couldn’t even stand up straight. This man standing in front of me had destroyed my life twice. And now, he had the absolute audacity to stand here and mock me. I lost all control. I hurled the cell phone in my hand directly at his face. Frank didn’t dodge. The heavy phone smacked squarely into the bridge of his nose, and blood instantly gushed out. Almost simultaneously, Chloe let out a delicate, terrified shriek. “Why are you hitting my dad?! He was legally released! They proved he did nothing wrong! What gives you the right to attack him?!” She aggressively snatched my phone off the floor and hurled it right back at my head. I didn’t hesitate. I tilted my head to dodge it, and my eyes locked directly with Carter’s. His brow was deeply furrowed, his eyes filled with absolute disgust toward me. Seeing that the phone missed me, Chloe was visibly upset. She stomped her foot and rushed up to me, crying hysterically. “I know you’re not going to let this go! You’re still holding a grudge against my dad!” “Aren’t you just mad that my dad accidentally made you miscarry? Fine! I’ll make it up to you! Beat me until I miscarry right now! I have two babies in my belly—if I pay you back with two lives for your one, will that be enough?!” She grabbed my hand and forcefully yanked it toward her own face. I didn’t even move a muscle, but she violently threw herself backward, screaming as she crashed onto the hard floor. Before I could even blink, Carter shoved past me. He scooped Chloe up into his arms, turning back to glare at me with eyes full of pure rage. “Evelyn, do you have any idea that assault is a felony?!” “For years, my heart broke for you over losing Lily. I tolerated your manic episodes and put up with your irrational tantrums because I pitied you.” “But that doesn’t give you the right to do whatever you want!” “If anything happens to Chloe or the babies, I swear to God I will not let you get away with this.” He turned and carried her out. Frank jogged obediently behind them. Nestled in Carter’s arms, Chloe shot me a look of pure, triumphant malice over his shoulder. Meeting her gaze, I thought I should be furious. I should be screaming. Just like I had been for the past eight years. But for some reason, in this exact moment, my heart was nothing but a desolate, dead wasteland. Suddenly, I just felt incredibly tired. 2 I stumbled out of the precinct, my steps uneven and heavy. My emotional state was terrifyingly calm. I hadn’t even made it home when Carter called me. “Chloe is an emotional wreck. I need you to come here and apologize to her. Promise her you won’t pull a stunt like that ever again.” “I’ll text you the address. I’m sending a driver to pick you up.” Carter’s voice was dead serious, driving needles directly into my heart. I couldn’t stop my body from trembling. “Apologize? What exactly did I do wrong?” His tone grew impatient. “Now is not the time to argue about who is right and wrong. Chloe is young. She gets scared easily, she’s pregnant with twins, and her hormones are all over the place.” “She just wants you to admit you were wrong and give her some peace of mind. You’ve been pregnant before. You should have some empathy for how she’s feeling right now.” I let out a cold, bitter laugh. “Carter, I would rather die than apologize to the daughter of a murderer.” The line went silent for a few seconds. When he spoke again, his voice was like ice. “Evelyn, are you deliberately forcing my hand?” Immediately after, I heard Chloe’s devastating, hysterical crying in the background. “Even if Evelyn hates me, she shouldn’t insult me like that!” “I was bullied my entire childhood because my dad was in prison! It’s my deepest trauma! How could she use that against me?!” I was so furious my vision blurred. My lower abdomen, still healing from the recent miscarriage, throbbed with a dull, sickening pain. I was about to scream back when the line suddenly went dead. I instinctively looked at my screen. My phone had died. Unable to call an Uber, I had to slowly, painfully drag myself all the way back to our house. At the front door, a mountain of newly delivered packages covered the porch. They were all the baby clothes and toys I had meticulously prepared for the new life I was supposed to bring into this world. Now, they felt like a cruel, mocking joke. Shutterstock Inside, the house was filled with the remnants of my sixteen-year marriage to Carter. There was no denying that once upon a time, Carter had loved me with every fiber of his being. Even when I fell into severe clinical depression after Lily died, he never complained. He patiently drove me to every psychiatrist in the state. About two years ago, I finally started to heal and wanted to look toward the future again. Because my body had suffered from the trauma, getting pregnant naturally was nearly impossible. I went through grueling cycles of IVF hormone injections and embryo transfers to prepare my body. In the beginning, Carter supported me without a single complaint. He found the best fertility clinics and hired the top specialists. But cycle after cycle failed, and I suffered multiple mental breakdowns. It was Carter who held me, comforted me, and promised me: “No matter what happens, I will always be right here with you.” Until I finally, miraculously got pregnant. I would never forget how ecstatic I was. I cried and thanked God over and over for giving my baby back to me. But it was a high-risk pregnancy. To ensure the baby survived, I gave up my career and my entire social life, staying on bed rest, guarding this tiny life with everything I had. I was just one week away from finally seeing her. And then, the “accident” happened. I collapsed onto the living room sofa. The massive, empty house hadn’t felt like a home in a very long time. When exactly did things start going wrong? Six months ago, I slipped in the bathroom, and I started spotting. It was my first major scare. In a blind panic, I called Carter. But the person who rushed through the door to take me to the ER was his executive assistant. After a terrifying night in the hospital, the doctors managed to stabilize the pregnancy. Carter didn’t show up until dawn. He smelled faintly of a women’s perfume. He told me: “There was a massive crisis with the new project. I’m so sorry.” I believed him. Five months ago, an anomaly showed up on an anatomy scan. I had a complete breakdown and called him frantically, but he didn’t pick up. I agonized for an entire sleepless night until noon the next day. When Carter finally answered, his voice was groggy. He had clearly just woken up. “Honey, don’t worry. We hired the best doctors. They won’t let anything happen to you.” There were so many other moments. Too many to count. Tears spilled over my eyelashes, falling drop by drop onto my hands. But why, out of all the women in the world, did it have to be his daughter? Carter knew better than anyone how much agony I went through when Lily died. I tried to end my own life multiple times. It was his love that kept me anchored to this earth. And now? I hugged my knees to my chest, the physical and emotional pain tearing me apart from the inside. Before I could even process my grief, the front door was violently kicked open. Carter stood in the doorway, his face twisted in absolute fury. “Why the hell did you hang up on me?!” “Do you know Chloe almost jumped off a balcony because of what you said?! You almost killed three people today, do you understand that?!” 3 I stared coldly directly into his eyes. “And?” “Tell me exactly which part of what I said was a lie.” Carter’s eyes darkened. He let out an exasperated, furious sigh. “Why can’t you just be a little more forgiving? Have some basic human decency! Is it really that hard to just say ‘I’m sorry’? Why did you have to escalate things to this point?!” Carter was practically shouting, totally losing control of his temper. I took several deep breaths, fighting through the heavy, dragging pain in my lower pelvis. My voice came out weak but sharp. “Carter. So she really is pregnant with your children?” He went dead silent. I let out a mocking laugh. “You cheat on me while I’m pregnant, get your mistress pregnant with twins, and now you have the sheer audacity to stand in my house and demand to know why I won’t apologize to her? Carter, do you not hear how absolutely psychotic you sound?” He didn’t look away. He stared right back at me without a shred of guilt. “Yes. I admit it. Those are my kids.” “I was slipped something at a corporate dinner by a rival firm. It was a setup to ruin me. If I had lost control, my entire career would have been destroyed.” “At first, I fought it. I held onto my sanity and told myself I couldn’t betray you. I called you, I texted you, I just wanted to hear your voice to ground myself! And what did you do?” “You got annoyed. You said you needed your sleep for the baby, and you hung up on me.” “If Chloe hadn’t miraculously been there… if she hadn’t sacrificed her own purity to save me, everything I own today would be gone!” Carter’s eyes were practically glowing with self-righteous justification. “The twins were an accident. But Chloe saved my life, and I owe her. I will not abandon her.” He stopped talking. I stared at him for a second, and then I just started laughing. It was true. At that time, I was on strict bed rest. I was so terrified of losing the baby that I shut out everything else in the world. I guess I ignored his needs. I didn’t see his “pain.” Looking at Carter, I suddenly felt incredibly exhausted. Suppressing his anger, he continued: “Evelyn, it’s not that I don’t love you anymore. It’s just… after all these years, I’m just so… tired.” He crouched down, grabbing his hair in frustration. “I am so fucking tired, Evelyn.” “You lost Lily, and you’ve been depressed for eight years. I stayed by your side. I stayed devoted to you. Every time you broke down, every time you tried to kill yourself and made a massive public scene, my heart broke for you.” “But I forgot what happiness actually felt like. I was just numbly keeping you alive.” “Until I met Chloe…” When he said her name, a genuine, undeniable look of peace and happiness washed over his face. In that fraction of a second, I finally understood. There was no going back. In his mind, I was the anchor of his misery. And Chloe was his fresh, shiny new happiness. He was never going to choose me again. I looked at the face of the man who had pulled me out of the abyss so many times, and I finally let it go. If the future was only going to be darkness, then it was time to end it here. “Carter. Let’s get a divorce.” “I hope you’re happy. I really mean that.” 4 Carter rejected it without a second of hesitation. “Evelyn, we are not getting a divorce.” “All you have to do is go apologize. Once Chloe cools down, I won’t hold this against you, and I will love you just as much as I always have.” “Don’t worry. What belongs to you, I won’t give to anyone else.” He said it with such absolute certainty, and it was the most repulsive thing I had ever heard. “One wife at home, and a family on the side? Carter, how does that not make you want to vomit?” He swallowed his irritation and was about to argue when his phone started ringing frantically. It was Chloe. Through the speaker, the young girl was sobbing heavily, her voice choked with tears as she apologized: “It’s my fault, Carter. I shouldn’t have made things difficult for you, and I shouldn’t have forced Evelyn to apologize.” “Maybe our meeting was a tragedy from the very beginning. I shouldn’t have asked for so much. But I’m a traditional girl. Since my body is ruined and I can’t have a normal family, I don’t have the face to keep living.” “Carter… if there is a next life, I hope I meet you earlier. And I hope I don’t have such a shameful family background. I just want to love you, cleanly, just once.” The call abruptly disconnected. Carter looked like he was going to lose his mind. He grabbed my arm and dragged me toward the door, screaming at me as we moved. “All it took was one apology! Just one! But you had to push her to the brink of death!” “Evelyn, you better pray to God she is okay, otherwise…” I didn’t hear the rest of his threat. He shoved me into his car and sped through the city streets like a maniac. My consciousness was starting to blur. I felt a warm, thick fluid pooling beneath me, gushing out in waves. The internal injuries from the car crash hadn’t healed at all. I had forced myself out of the hospital on sheer adrenaline, desperate to seek justice. But now, my body was giving out. The pain became so blinding that it eventually turned to numbness. Carter was yelling the entire drive, but all I could see were his bloodshot, manic eyes. When we finally arrived at the hospital, he violently yanked me out of the passenger seat. He didn’t even look at me. He just dragged me down the sterile hallways. Walking faster and faster. Feeling my mind slipping away into the dark, I used the very last ounce of strength I had to beg him: “Carter… I can’t hold on… please… slow down.” “I’m really dying.” He didn’t stop. He walked even faster. I was only moving forward because his grip on my arm was dragging my dead weight. I lost count of how many times my knees gave out and hit the floor, only for Carter to violently yank me back up. Finally, we reached Chloe’s hospital room. The fluorescent lights were blinding, but my vision was completely black around the edges. Carter’s voice sounded like it was coming from underwater. “Apologize. Just apologize, and everything will be fine.” Will everything be fine? The question echoed in my decaying mind. If I apologized… would everything I lost come back? My beautiful Lily? The baby that was torn from my womb? The beautiful life I used to have? Would any of it come back? I opened my mouth, and slowly, agonizingly, I spoke. “I’m sorry.” I heard Chloe’s voice instantly lighten up. “Actually, I wasn’t trying to make things hard for you, Evelyn. I just wanted some basic respect.” “I didn’t do anything wrong. I shouldn’t be judged. I’ve suffered so much unfair discrimination because of my dad’s past.” “So I just wanted justice.” “Since you apologized, I forgive you. It’s not a big deal.” As Chloe’s words faded, my consciousness completely collapsed. Everything that disgusted me, everything that made me sick to my stomach, everything that caused me agony… it all faded into perfect peace, turning to dust in the void. Memories flashed before my eyes like a movie reel. And it was all Carter’s face. Further back… further back… it was the three of us. Our family, holding hands, laughing in the sun. I reached out desperately, trying to grab those memories, praying I could stay in that moment forever. But in the end, there was only silence. Forget it. It ends here. All the love, all the hate. Let it all end. I closed my eyes and sank into the heavy dark. 5 “Evelyn, I just asked you to apologize! What kind of stunt are you pulling now?!” Seeing me collapse motionlessly onto the floor, Carter frowned, his eyes filled with absolute impatience. “I told you, if you just apologized, I would drop it! Chloe isn’t even mad anymore, do you really want to make her upset again?!” “Evelyn, what is the point of this? Can you stop disappointing me?!” He kept rambling, every word a bitter complaint. But my body on the floor didn’t react. He sighed heavily. From the hospital bed, Chloe immediately turned on the waterworks. “So she didn’t mean the apology at all! I should have known! She’s looked down on me from the very beginning, why would she suddenly give in? She’s just trying to frame me!” “When people hear about this, they’re going to say I bullied her until she passed out.” “Carter, just go take care of her. Don’t worry about me.” “I’ve always been completely alone anyway.” Chloe’s tears fell so perfectly, and Carter’s eyes practically melted with heartbreak. “She’s faking it! Don’t blame yourself, she is completely fine.” “I’ve dealt with her hypochondria for eight years, you think I don’t know her? Her ‘depression’ is just a pathetic excuse to run away from the fact that she failed to protect her own daughter.” “Chloe, I promise you, as long as I’m here, I will never let anyone hurt you again. Don’t be scared…” Carter pulled Chloe tightly into his chest, not sparing a single glance for my body lying near the doorway. Even though my soul had already left my body, even though my heart was completely empty, hearing those words sent a violent, agonizing tremor through my ghost. He was right. For years and years, I blamed myself. I blamed myself for failing to protect my baby girl. I blamed myself for taking that specific route home that day. I blamed myself for not throwing my body in front of the truck to save her. It was Lily’s sixth birthday. Carter hadn’t gotten off work yet, so I was taking Lily to the restaurant we had booked. Even now, every detail of that day was permanently burned into my soul. Lily was holding my hand, skipping happily down the sidewalk. “Mommy, can we go to Daddy’s office and surprise him?!” “I’ve never seen Daddy’s office! I really miss him, I want to see him right now!” I thought about it, smiled, and agreed. Because of that split-second decision, we took a detour. Less than 500 feet from Carter’s office building… A massive commercial truck, speeding out of control, barreled directly into the crosswalk. Everything happened in excruciatingly slow motion. I really did blame myself. For eight years, every time I closed my eyes, my brain replayed the scene. I constantly tortured myself, thinking: If I had just reacted a second faster… if I had just pushed her a little harder… If I hadn’t made that stupid, spontaneous decision, everything would be different. Lily was lying on the asphalt. She was covered in blood. Her eyes were open, and the very last thing she ever said to me was: “Mommy… do I still get to have my birthday?” Those words became the eternal nightmare of my life. Carter was right. I desperately wanted to escape. I couldn’t accept the brutal reality, which was why I tried to follow her to the grave so many times. But back then, he was the one who stubbornly stayed by my side! How could he use that trauma as a weapon to attack me now?! My phantom heart felt like it was being ripped apart. On the hospital bed, Carter was still gently stroking Chloe’s hair. Until a passing nurse let out a blood-curdling scream. “Oh my god, look at all this blood! We need help! Bring a gurney, NOW!” “The patient is completely unresponsive, HURRY!” The sheer panic in the nurse’s voice finally snapped Carter out of his trance. He looked down at me on the floor, a rare flicker of panic crossing his eyes. “What blood? What’s wrong with her?” He stood up and walked toward me, step by step, until he saw the massive pool of crimson spreading across the white tiles. Carter froze for a few seconds. He stumbled back, before crashing to his knees beside me. “Evelyn! Wake up! What happened to you?!” He grabbed my waist. The blood soaked instantly into his expensive shirt. Behind him, Chloe let out a terrified shriek. “Blood! I can’t look at blood! Carter, please come protect me, I’m so scared! I’m so scared!” Carter’s body violently flinched. The trauma team rushed in with a gurney. “Are you the husband?! Follow us! The patient is in critical condition, she’s crashing!” My body was hoisted onto the gurney. The doctors and nurses sprinted down the hall. Carter scrambled to his feet to follow them. But from the bed, Chloe’s crying grew louder. “It’s fine. I’ve always been the one left behind. When I was a kid, and now. People like me don’t deserve to be chosen.” “When I sacrificed my purity to save you, you did the exact same thing! You had just brutally taken my innocence, I was half-dead in that hotel bed, and the second Evelyn called and said her stomach hurt, you abandoned me in the middle of the night.” “And now… as long as Evelyn needs you, I will always be thrown away like trash.” “I’m so cheap. I never deserved your love. It’s fine, I finally see the truth. Carter… I overestimated your love for me. It ends here. Goodbye.” She struggled out of the hospital bed and ran out of the room, sobbing blindly. Carter froze in his tracks. He hesitated for exactly one second. Then, he turned his back to the trauma team and sprinted after Chloe. He completely ignored the shouting doctors. He caught up to Chloe and wrapped his arms around her tightly. “I won’t leave you.” “No matter what happens, I will never leave you behind again.”

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The day before my wedding, my mother caught my fiancé sleeping with my best friend. The shock triggered a massive heart attack, and she desperately needed a heart transplant to survive. Thankfully, I was a match. Without hesitation, I decided to donate my heart to my mother and receive an artificial heart myself. Faced with the astronomical medical bills, I begged my fiancé for help. He coldly told me he was “short on cash” and immediately ran off to the courthouse to marry my best friend, Chloe. Just when I thought I was out of options, Arthur Vance stepped in. He paid off all my medical debts and personally performed the surgeries for both me and my mother. When I woke up, Arthur held my hand and regretfully informed me that my mother’s body had rejected the transplant. The surgery failed. She was gone forever. He pulled my sobbing, devastated form into his arms, confessed his love for me, and begged me to let him take care of me for the rest of my life. Seven years into our marriage, I accidentally overheard a conversation between him and his best friend: “So it was you who gave Evelyn’s heart to Chloe… and you did it right in front of Evelyn’s mother. Man, that’s brutal.” “I didn’t have a choice. Her heart was a perfect match for Chloe.” “But you had already found another suitable donor! Chloe just had to wait half a day. Why were you in such a rush?” Arthur sighed. “I couldn’t stand seeing Chloe in pain. I wasn’t willing to make her wait a single second.” … Separated by only a heavy oak door, Arthur blew out a ring of cigar smoke in his study, his tone dark and complicated. “Since societal rules prevent me from marrying my niece, the least I can do is ensure she lives a long, healthy life.” His friend, Ryan, looked troubled. “But Evelyn has a rare blood type. It’s incredibly hard to find a matching heart for her. For the past seven years, she’s had to endure coughing up blood, agonizing chest pain, and she can’t even have children.” “Don’t forget, her artificial heart only has a month left before it fails. It needs to be replaced immediately. Are you really going to subject her to the agony of open-heart surgery over and over again for the rest of her life? Evelyn loves you. Just give her heart back. You’ve already prepped several backup donors for Chloe anyway.” Arthur didn’t even pause to think before snapping back: “Absolutely not! Having an extra backup donor is an extra layer of insurance for Chloe’s health. I will never take chances with her safety.” Ryan was getting agitated. “What about Evelyn?! I still remember the look on her mother’s face—crying tears of blood, dying with her eyes wide open in pure hatred. Aren’t you afraid Evelyn will kill you if she ever finds out the truth?” Arthur went silent for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh. “If she really wants my life, she can have it. I always planned on taking care of her for the rest of her life anyway.” “As long as Chloe is happy, I could die with no regrets.” My hand, gripping the doorknob, shook uncontrollably, the veins bulging against my pale skin. After recording everything on my phone, I fled back to our bedroom like a ghost before Arthur could catch me, sliding down the wall and collapsing onto the floor. Because my body had never fully accepted the artificial heart, my immune system was compromised. I was constantly weak, frequently coughing up blood, and tortured by sudden, stabbing chest pains. Arthur had told me back then that a heart transplant required a live donor. Since my mother had “passed away,” he couldn’t put my heart back into my body. I had thought to myself, It’s okay. At least my heart will be with Mom forever. No wonder when I begged to see my mother one last time, Arthur forcefully insisted I was too weak to leave the bed and rushed to handle her cremation and funeral arrangements himself. It turned out his so-called “salvation” and “deep love” were nothing but a sacrificial altar designed by a demon! He never performed the surgery on my mother! My mother and I… we were just sacrificial lambs offered up to the woman he truly loved! To ensure I would never suspect a thing, he actually wheeled my mother into the operating room first. He forced her to watch, completely paralyzed and helpless, as her own daughter’s heart was carved out and placed into another woman’s chest. She died crying tears of blood! Even without a real heart, my chest ached so violently it felt like it was ripping apart. I violently coughed up a mouthful of dark blood onto the carpet. “Evie?!” I didn’t know when Arthur had entered the room. Seeing me coughing up blood, he rushed over, scooped me up onto the bed, and gently wiped the blood from my lips, his face etched with absolute heartbreak. “I’m so sorry, Evie. I haven’t taken good care of you. Don’t worry, I’ve already sourced the best next-generation artificial heart for you. We’ll swap it out in a few days.” His eyes were red with guilt—the exact same reaction he had every single time he saw me in pain over the last seven years. I used to think it was because he loved me, and I would force myself to act strong, comforting him and telling him it was okay. Looking back now, I was impossibly stupid. “Arthur, the pain has been unbearable these past few years. Can I please just stop using the artificial heart?” Haven’t you already prepped several backup donors for Chloe? Then can you give my heart back to me? Arthur hesitated for only a second before smiling, stroking my hair gently. “Evie, don’t be silly. We don’t have a matching donor heart for you yet. If you don’t use the artificial one, do you expect me to just watch you die? I’d rather you kill me first.” We don’t have one? But the heart beating inside Chloe’s chest is MINE! My blood turned to ice. I forced a weak smile. “You’re right. I’m just being silly.” Under the guise of running a bath for him, I emptied an entire bottle of high-concentration sleep essential oils into the tub. When he came to bed, he fell into a deep, unshakable sleep within minutes. Perhaps he was dreaming of the woman he truly desired, because he started mumbling in his sleep: “Chloe… I will always protect you… even if it kills me.” Looking at the husband I had loved with all my soul for seven years, tears finally broke through and slid down my cheeks. I picked up my phone and called my best friend, Sarah, a brilliant surgeon who had just returned to the States after years of volunteering in Africa. “Sarah, I need you to do a surgery for me.” “Yes, I’m absolutely sure. See you in three days.” What is there to fear about death? Living a life worse than death is the true torture. I set my phone down, quietly picked up Arthur’s, and slipped into his study. Unsurprisingly, his passcode was Chloe’s birthday. I had no idea Arthur kept a secret, secondary Instagram account. He probably forgot to switch back to his main profile. His profile picture was a stylized graphic of two words: Loving Chloe. Such a blunt, simple declaration. I opened his feed. It was flooded with photos of Chloe. Every single caption was a testament to his hidden, obsessive love. “The first day she arrived at the Vance estate, I saw Chloe. Suddenly, I understood what it meant for a heart to beat for someone.” “Chloe got married today. I’m going insane with jealousy. I want to carve her open and hide her inside my own body, so she belongs only to me.” “I took Evelyn three times today. I knew her body couldn’t handle it, but I had no choice. I missed Chloe so much, I could only scream Chloe’s name over and over in my head, praying that the woman beneath me would magically turn into her…” Beyond that, there were endless photos of the extravagant jewelry and designer bags he had bought for Chloe. He had even purchased a private, heart-shaped island in the Caribbean under her name. And in all these years, the only thing Arthur had ever given me was this artificial heart that brought me nothing but endless agony and torture. While I was drowning in grief over my mother’s death and suffering through agonizing bouts of coughing up blood, Chloe was lounging beautifully on the soft white sands of her private island, soaking up the sun. My hand shook uncontrollably as I gripped the phone. A wave of intense nausea hit my stomach, and I lunged toward the trash can, dry heaving violently. As I braced myself against the bookshelf, I accidentally knocked something loose. A hollowed-out book hit the floor. Inside the fake book was a stack of documents—several “Voluntary Organ Donation” consent forms, alongside a thick stack of wire transfer receipts. Arthur had been sending massive monthly payouts to the families of these potential donors, essentially keeping them on his payroll. There was only one condition: they were forbidden from donating their hearts to anyone else. Whenever Chloe needed one, they had to surrender it immediately. The very last form in the stack was mine. But the designated recipient had been changed from my mother to Chloe Vance. Back then, Arthur had shoved a massive stack of paperwork in front of me, claiming they were just standard hospital release forms. Panicking and desperate to save my mother, I signed everything without reading the fine print. This form must have been slipped in there. And my mother’s actual donation form? He probably destroyed it years ago. Arthur Vance, you really went to the ends of the earth for Chloe. After printing out the divorce papers, I sat alone on the living room sofa. My heart was a desolate wasteland. I didn’t sleep a wink all night. The next morning, Arthur assumed I was just an early riser and suspected nothing. Perhaps feeling guilty about me coughing up blood last night, he played the devoted husband, personally cooking a perfectly balanced, nutritious breakfast. Seeing that I hadn’t touched a bite, he looked at me with tender concern: “Evie, why aren’t you eating? Are you feeling down?” “It’s nothing. I just miss my mom.” He sighed deeply. “Evie, I know. I constantly think about Mom, too. She was such a kind, gentle woman. It’s all my fault. I’m useless. I couldn’t save her back then. I still remember the way she grabbed my hand right before the end, begging me to make sure we lived a happy life together.” If my mother had possessed an ounce of strength to lift her hand, she would have used it to strangle him to death. Watching his sickeningly hypocritical performance, a wave of pure irony washed over me. I was just about to bring up the divorce when Arthur spoke, seemingly casually: “Evie, you’ve been so depressed lately. Today is Chloe’s birthday, and she just flew back into town. The family is hosting a huge banquet at the main estate. Why don’t we go? The lively atmosphere might cheer you up.” “I know you’ve avoided seeing her because of what happened with your mom, but it’s been years. Chloe didn’t mean for any of that to happen… She’s family, after all. She’s always been incredibly sensitive, and if we don’t show up, I’m afraid she’ll be heartbroken…” So this was his true motive. He wasted all that breath just to manipulate me into going so he could see the woman he loved. I cut him off: “Whatever you want.” Arthur smiled brightly: “I knew my Evie was the most understanding.” The moment we walked into the grand estate, I saw Chloe dressed like absolute royalty, clinging to her grandmother’s arm and acting like a spoiled child. The old matriarch laughed indulgently, feeding Chloe slices of fresh fruit from a silver platter. She was the center of the universe here. Chloe spotted me instantly. Her tone turned sharp and sarcastic: “Grandma~ you’re feeding me too much, I’m going to get fat! Oh, look, Aunt Evelyn is here. Why don’t you give her the leftovers? After all, she doesn’t have a mother to feed her.” My mother-in-law turned to look at me. Her eyes scanned my simple, inexpensive clothes, her face twisting into a sneer of absolute disgust. “Who let this sickly ghost in here? Are you trying to infect us with your poverty and bad luck?” “The Vance family is a prestigious medical dynasty. You dress like a homeless beggar every day; you’re an absolute embarrassment to my son. You’ve been married into this family for seven years, and not only are you a barren hen, but you have no brains either! Didn’t your dead mother teach you any manners before she kicked the bucket?!” Arthur wasn’t the biological brother of Chloe’s father; he was the son brought in by the patriarch’s second wife. Fearing her son wouldn’t be respected, my mother-in-law had always wanted Arthur to marry a woman from a powerful family to boost his status. But after Chloe’s father died in a car crash, Arthur proved his worth. He became the universally praised “Golden Scalpel” of the medical world, won the patriarch’s approval, and was handed control of the entire family empire. Only then did my mother-in-law hold her nose and allow Arthur to marry me. But because my health issues prevented me from getting pregnant, her hatred for me only grew deeper. In the past, Arthur would have at least offered a few words in my defense. But today, his eyes were entirely glued to Chloe, filled with an uncontrollable, burning longing. Chloe skipped over to him, intimately wrapping her arms around his bicep, pouting playfully: “Uncle Arthur! Did you bring a present for Chloe?” Arthur affectionately pinched her cheek: “Of course I did.” A team of attendants rolled in twenty-eight custom-made, haute couture gowns, each meticulously paired with a matching set of obscenely expensive diamond jewelry. Twenty-eight. For Chloe’s twenty-eighth birthday. She shrieked with joy and planted a massive kiss on Arthur’s cheek: “Wow! Uncle Arthur loves me the most! These jewelry sets are all limited editions! You spent way too much… what if some people get jealous?” Only then did Arthur seem to remember I was standing right next to him. My cheap, worn-out clothes looked painfully pathetic standing amidst the sea of glittering diamonds and silk. In all these years, Arthur had never once remembered my birthday, let alone bought me a single piece of jewelry or a nice dress. He looked slightly embarrassed. He reached for my hand, trying to explain: “Evie, don’t overthink it. I’m Chloe’s uncle, I’m just…” Chloe suddenly clutched her chest, furrowing her perfectly manicured brows: “Uncle Arthur… my chest feels a bit tight… I don’t know if my heart condition is acting up again…” Arthur instantly dropped my hand, spun around, and pulled her into a tight embrace, his face etched with sheer panic: “Why is your chest tight?! Does it hurt?! No, this is bad, I need to examine you immediately!” Without another word, in front of the entire extended family, he scooped Chloe up into his arms in a bridal carry and sprinted up the sweeping staircase without looking back. The guests turned their mocking, pitying gazes toward me. “No wonder Arthur would rather buy a mountain of couture for Chloe than buy Evelyn a single dress. A woman with such low-class origins isn’t fit to be a Vance, let alone wear luxury goods.” “If Arthur wasn’t bound by the optics of his uncle-niece relationship with Chloe, why would he ever settle for a gutter rat like her? I bet she used her mother’s death to blackmail Arthur into marrying her. Shameless bitch, stepping on her own mother’s corpse to marry into money.” The whispers grew louder. My mother-in-law, feeling she was losing face, barked at me: “You embarrassing disgrace, what are you still standing here for?! Get your ass upstairs! Haven’t you humiliated our family enough today?!” “My son performing surgery on your dead mother was a blessing she didn’t deserve. If she was too weak to survive it, how is that my son’s fault? The fact that you aren’t on your knees thanking him, and instead tried to extort him… you’ll get what’s coming to you!” My hands balled into tight fists inside my cheap sleeves. I let out a weak, hollow laugh. She’s right. Meeting Arthur Vance was the greatest curse of my life. Remembering the divorce papers securely tucked in my purse, I didn’t say a word. I turned and walked upstairs to find him. But as I stepped onto the second-floor landing, I saw them on the balcony. Arthur and Chloe, locked in a tight embrace. Chloe was leaning back against the marble railing, her arms wrapped around Arthur’s neck. “Arthur… listen closely. Is Chloe’s heart still beating too fast?” “Chloe, we can’t do this…” Arthur tried to make his voice sound disciplined, but the visible tension in his tailored suit pants betrayed him completely. Chloe aggressively pressed her lips against his, whispering seductively: “Are you saying you don’t want Chloe? I know I’m the only one in your heart, and you are the only one in mine. Even if you married someone else because you were scared of what people would say, your body still belongs to me. Let’s just lose control this once…” Arthur finally snapped. He grabbed the back of Chloe’s head, pulling her into a desperate, passionate, bruising kiss. The sound of fabric ripping was immediately followed by breathy, obscene moans. Listening to Arthur whisper sickeningly sweet, filthy promises to her, tears blurred my vision. I clamped my hand over my mouth and ran out of the mansion. I didn’t know how long I sat on the curb outside the estate gates before a bowl of scalding hot instant ramen was violently splashed across my chest. The boiling water shocked me back to reality. Chloe, having changed into fresh clothes, stood over me, holding a bottle of expensive whiskey. “Evelyn, did you like the sounds we were making up there? Your pathetic, retreating back looked exactly like a stray dog.” So she had seen me. “I heard your body is rejecting the artificial heart. Coughing up blood and dealing with chest pain every day must be absolute torture, right? You can’t even enjoy the rough, passionate love of a real man. But I’m different. Arthur can use the most aggressive positions on me, and I can take it perfectly. Even though you’re a piece of trash, I have to admit, your heart works phenomenally well. I felt amazing up there just now.” “You actually thought marrying my uncle would steal my spotlight? Keep dreaming. He only has me in his heart. You were nothing more than a temporary incubator for my spare parts.” “Oh, by the way… that day wasn’t the first time your mom caught me sleeping with your fiancé. That old bitch actually dared to call me a slut. So, I specifically orchestrated it. I had her tied up and forced her to watch me fuck your fiancé right in front of her face. It triggered her heart attack. When you offered to donate your heart to her, I just faked a little chest pain, and Uncle Arthur was so heartbroken he refused to wait a single second. He ripped your heart out and gave it to me.” “Ah, right. You were unconscious under anesthesia, so you missed your mom’s reaction. She stretched her arm out so far, her eyes bulging out of her skull like she was going to pop! She wanted to strangle us so badly! But what a shame… all she could do was watch helplessly as she was literally angered to death~ Serves her right. She insulted me, so I took her life!” My eyes widened in sheer, absolute horror. I never, in my darkest nightmares, could have imagined that this was the true cause of my mother’s death. My entire body shook violently. How could these monsters murder my mother and still act like they were completely justified?! I raised my hand high into the air to strike her, but Chloe was faster. She dumped the rest of the whiskey over her own head and let out a blood-curdling scream. The next second, I was shoved violently to the ground. Arthur wrapped Chloe securely in his arms and whipped his head around, roaring at me: “Evelyn! What the hell are you doing?!” Chloe cried pitifully against his chest: “Uncle Arthur! I just saw that Aunt Evelyn didn’t eat anything at the banquet, so I brought her some food and a drink! But she started screaming that I murdered her mother! She knocked the food out of my hands and poured alcohol all over me! If you had come a second later, she would have killed me!” “I made that ramen myself! I know it’s not fancy, but it was the thought that counted! The boiling water even burned my hands…” Arthur’s face instantly turned murderous. “Evelyn! Your mother dying of a heart attack was her own fault for having a weak constitution and sticking her nose into the affairs of young people! Before a wedding, it is completely normal for someone to have a change of heart! Chloe felt bad that you were hungry, and if you didn’t appreciate it, fine! But how dare you blame her for your own mother’s death?!” I stared at him in utter disbelief, listening to the sociopathic, twisted logic spewing from his mouth. “Arthur Vance. Tell me to my face. How exactly did my mother die? Did you actually give my heart to her?” Arthur frowned deeply. “Of course I did! Didn’t I already tell you? Your mother experienced severe acute rejection post-op! Heart transplants carry massive risks, how do you not even possess basic common sense?! Stop betraying Chloe’s kindness and apologize to her right now!”

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I went to the ER, and the hallway was absolutely packed with patients waiting their turn. But I was in a rush to get to my grandfather’s 80th birthday dinner, so I had no choice but to let an intern draw my blood to speed things up. After poking me eight times without finding a vein, the girl suddenly covered her face and started sobbing. “I’m just a baby, my hands are too small to aim properly! Why are you being so mean?!” I was sweating cold bullets from the pain. Just as I was about to snap, a few lines of floating text suddenly scrolled across my field of vision: “Omg the female lead is so cute! She’s so nervous seeing her crush that she forgot how to do an IV!” “This is the charm of a clumsy beauty! She’s using this to get the male lead’s attention, so sweet!” “Look, the male lead has a straight face, but he’s about to feel so bad for her!” I almost laughed out loud. I didn’t even know this woman! And what the hell did it mean by “male lead”? I am a 100% biological, certified woman! … “What are you doing? Move your hand!” Seeing this intern, who just referred to herself as “a baby,” gearing up to stab me again, I violently yanked my arm away. The back of my hand was already covered in dark purple bruises, and blood was beading out of the multiple puncture wounds. I was about to explode. “Even if you’re an intern, this is crossing a line, right? Did you actually graduate from a legitimate nursing school?” I gritted my teeth, enduring the sharp, cramping pain in my stomach that brought me here in the first place. But the woman grabbed my hand again, muttering softly: “Don’t move! When you move, baby loses her feel for the vein!” “Don’t worry, I’ll definitely get it this time. Stop being so grumpy!” My head was buzzing. This is a hospital emergency room, not the set of a goddamn romantic comedy! But the waiting room was packed with people, and the stomach pain was becoming unbearable. My grandfather was still waiting for me. I decided to just let her try one last time. I resigned myself to my fate, closed my eyes, and offered my hand. My stomach was doing flips; I just wanted to get this over with. I completely ignored her delusional muttering. “Don’t be scared, handsome. Baby can definitely do it this time.” “Come on, baby, fighting for love!” I didn’t even bother lifting my eyelids to acknowledge her. About thirty seconds later, accompanied by a joyful gasp: “Done!” I finally let out a sigh of relief and opened my eyes. What I saw nearly made me pass out on the spot. The new puncture wounds, combined with the massive purple bruise from before… She had crookedly poked a pattern into the back of my hand. A heart? What the actual fuck?! The blood instantly rushed to my head. Am I in a hospital ER, or am I participating in some psychotic performance art? And the intern actually pointed at my hand with an expectant look: “Does it look good?” “It’s the newest trend in IV art. I knew you’d love it!” The floating text comments started scrolling rapidly again. “Ahhhhh! The female lead is so smooth! She gave him a heart tattoo with the needle!” “What kind of god-tier confession is this! So romantic! Look at the male lead’s face! He’s definitely stunned by how touched he is!” I slowly raised my hand, branded with the bruised heart. And roared toward the nurse’s station at the end of the hall: “CHARGE NURSE!” The intern panicked and tried to cover my mouth: “Why are you calling the charge nurse? If you don’t like it, I can just change the pattern! Why are you yelling?” As she spoke, tears started streaming down her face. This immediately sparked whispers from the surrounding patients: “What’s wrong with that guy? Bullying a little nurse?” “He looks so well-dressed, why is his temper so awful? It’s just a needle poke, can’t a grown man handle a little pain?” My head was pounding. I looked down at myself. I was wearing a black tactical jacket, I had a sharp wolf-cut hairstyle, and because I hit the gym year-round, my shoulders were definitely broader than the average woman’s. But that doesn’t mean I am a goddamn grown man! The charge nurse jogged over and saw my hand completely covered in needle holes. She immediately reprimanded the intern: “Chloe Miller! Did you cause trouble again?!” “Didn’t I tell you that you are not allowed to draw blood without supervision? What is wrong with you?” But Chloe pointed at me, looking incredibly wronged: “He said he was in a rush and insisted that baby do it!” I let out a cold, incredulous laugh: “And?” “Does that give you the right to turn my hand into a pincushion?!” The charge nurse’s face turned pale. She glared at Chloe. Chloe shrank her neck, tears falling like rain: “Waaah… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to!” “Baby was just too nervous, my hands wouldn’t listen to me…” The floating comments started going crazy again. “Ahhh the female lead is crying! The clumsy beauty looks so cute when she’s wronged! Male lead, you absolute pig, comfort her!” “This is love! She made a mistake because she cares too much! I ship them so hard!” “I don’t even like this male lead, he’s not as good as the Hospital Director male lead. When he has to grovel to get her back later, he’ll regret this!” I’ll regret this? I’m currently regretting bringing my hand to this hospital! The charge nurse was clearly nursing a massive headache, trying to pacify me: “Sir, please don’t be angry.” “Chloe is an intern here, her clinical skills are definitely lacking. I apologize on her behalf.” She paused, pointing at the registration slip in Chloe’s hand: “However, you’ve already checked in under her name, it’s entered into the system.” “If you want a different nurse, you have to go back to the front desk, cancel this ticket, and pull a new number to wait in line again.” “The ER is packed right now. Going back and forth will probably take you another three or four hours.” I squeezed my fists. Three or four hours? By the time it was my turn, my grandfather’s birthday party would be over. The charge nurse saw my hesitation and immediately offered a compromise: “How about this? I will personally stand right next to her and supervise her for one last try?” “I guarantee it will be a success this time. How does that sound?” Before I could even speak, Chloe nodded enthusiastically: “Give me one more chance, please? Baby can definitely do it this time!” The comments cheered. “Charge nurse with the ultimate assist! Say yes! Say yes!” “Being surrounded by a crowd, but she only has eyes for you… this is totally a K-drama vibe!” I kept my face deadpan and replied: “No.” Chloe’s tears immediately welled up again. The people waiting in line started muttering again. “What’s this guy’s problem? The girl apologized, the charge nurse guaranteed it, and he’s still being a jerk.” “A grown man arguing with a little girl, he has absolutely no class.” Every time I heard “grown man,” my temples throbbed painfully. “It’s real easy to judge when you’re just standing there, isn’t it?” “If any of you think she’s so pitiful, and I’m so classless, why don’t you offer your arm for her to stab?” The crowd instantly went dead silent. The comments immediately got angry. “This dog of a male lead actually said no? Female lead, use your ultimate move!” “We have to cancel this trash man today so he loses his male lead status!” I looked up at Chloe in confusion. Suddenly, I felt like she looked familiar. Before I could place her face. I saw a red light flash from the front pocket of Chloe’s white coat. This person was secretly recording me! What the hell was she trying to do? Just as I took a step forward, Chloe violently jerked backward: “What are you doing?!” “I let it slide when you rubbed against my thigh earlier, and now you’re trying to grope my chest?!” With that single scream. The entire hallway devolved into absolute chaos. Several large, aggressive male family members immediately rushed forward, blocking Chloe behind them. “What are you doing?! Sexually assaulting a nurse in broad daylight?!” “You’re here for a doctor, keep your hands to yourself! Do you want to go to jail?!” I turned to look at the charge nurse. The cramping in my stomach made my voice ice-cold: “Does this hospital not do psych evaluations when hiring interns? You let people with persecution complexes work here?” The charge nurse turned pale and quickly tried to de-escalate: “Sir, please calm down. This is a hospital, please do not shout and disturb the other patients.” “Chloe, explain yourself clearly, what exactly happened?” Chloe clutched the hem of her coat, looking at me with tear-filled eyes: “It’s… it’s just that earlier, when he was letting me draw his blood, he purposely… he rubbed against baby’s thigh.” “Baby was scared, my hand shook, and that’s why I missed the vein…” The crowd completely exploded. “He really is a pervert!” “Call the cops right now! This kind of trash needs to be locked up!” “Don’t be scared, sweetie, we’ll all testify for you!” Seeing that someone had already pulled out their phone. Chloe suddenly waved her hands in a tragically heroic manner: “No, please don’t call the police!” She bit her lip, looking like someone who had suffered immense trauma but was too scared to speak up: “Forget it. It’s not his first time doing this.” “Last time, he cornered me in the stairwell and tried to sexually harass baby…” She stopped mid-sentence, choking back a sob, shaking her head vigorously. “I’m just an intern nurse. I’m about to become a full-time employee.” “I can’t afford to offend him. He looks like he has money. If he retaliates against me, I’ll lose my job…” The comments started cheering. “Baby is doing great! Finally using the ultimate move!” “Beautifully done! This dog of a man must die! Ruin his reputation!” I roared in anger: “You’re full of shit!” But to the people around me, my roar just looked like I was lashing out from being exposed. “Look! He’s still threatening her!” “He definitely got exposed and now he’s panicking! We can’t let this scum get away with it!” Several of the large guys rolled up their sleeves and surrounded me. They boxed me in completely. “Hey buddy, are you going to admit it or what?” I was so angry my stomach literally stopped hurting. This mob of people just loved the drama, acting like they were bursting with righteous justice. Fine. You all think I’m an easy target, huh? I pulled out my phone and dialed 911 directly. When I finished giving the dispatcher the details. The crowd erupted into an even louder uproar. “He actually has the nerve to call the cops?!” “He gets caught sexually harassing someone, and he plays the victim?!” Chloe froze for a second, then put on a face of tragic martyrdom: “Baby is just a lowly intern with no voice. If you hadn’t gone too far, I was going to suffer in silence.” “But if I let you go, what if other women fall victim to your predatory behavior?” “I have to stand up! I have to speak for all women!” The comments were boiling over. “Wow! Baby is so brave! Facing off against the trash man head-on!” “This is a true strong female lead script! My blood is pumping!” The guys surrounding me were practically ready to throw punches. “Don’t be scared, miss! We’re your witnesses!” “Hospitals need brave nurses like you! We’re all going to write commendation letters to your director! They have to hire you full-time!” Just then, two police officers arrived on the scene: “What’s going on here? Who called 911?” “I did!” I pointed at the massive purple bruise on the back of my hand, complete with that idiotic heart shape: “Aggravated assault.” “Also, this intern is defaming me, claiming I sexually harassed her.” Before the officer could speak, Chloe threw herself forward: “Officer, that’s not true! He was groping me!” Crying, she pulled her phone out of her white coat pocket and handed it to the police. “I have proof!” “He harassed me last time, so I was terrified.” “When he got close to me this time, I secretly started recording…” The officer took the phone and played the video. The footage was a bit shaky, but it clearly showed me sitting in a chair, with Chloe leaning over to find a vein. Then, my leg and her thigh made brief, momentary contact. I was absolutely dumbfounded. That’s it?! I was wearing thick tactical pants, and she was wearing scrub pants under a lab coat. There were eight hundred layers of fabric between us, I literally didn’t feel a thing. And that counts as sexual harassment?! Not to mention, that contact happened because I flinched when she stabbed me with the needle! But the crowd didn’t see it that way. “See! There’s video! Ironclad proof!” “What else is there to say? Cuff him and take him away!” The officer’s expression turned serious, and he looked at me: “Sir, please come with us to the precinct for questioning.” I suddenly smiled. I looked at Chloe: “I’m going to ask you one last time.” “Did I, actually, sexually harass you?” The crowd immediately started voicing their support for Chloe. Chloe straightened her posture and said affirmatively: “Yes! You sexually harassed me! You are a pervert!” “Okay.” I nodded, and smiled again. Then, in front of everyone, I pulled my ID card out of my pocket and handed it to the officer. “But I am a goddamn woman!” “Please tell me, exactly what equipment did I use to sexually harass you?” The entire hallway fell dead silent. The officer looked at my ID card, checking it back and forth several times. The comments started debating wildly: “Impossible! Absolutely impossible!” “This trash man is using a fake ID to escape justice! He has no shame!” “The backup male lead we carefully selected for our baby could never be a woman! With those broad shoulders and that Adam’s apple, impossible!” Where the fuck did I have an Adam’s apple?! Right at that moment, I finally remembered who this woman was. Last month, I was invited to give a guest lecture at the university’s medical school. Out of hundreds of students in the auditorium, only this Chloe Miller spent the entire lecture staring directly at me! After the lecture, she cornered me multiple times, asking bizarre, irrelevant questions. “Professor, what kind of love do you consider unforgettable?” “Professor, what is your ideal romantic confession?” I had just given her some vague, polite answers and left. I had no idea this was the same person! At this point, Chloe pointed at me, her voice shrill: “Officer, don’t believe her! She’s definitely using a fake ID! How could a woman look like that?!” “She’s a man! Just a pervert trying to escape the law!” I actually laughed: “Look like what? Is there a law stating that all women must have waist-length hair and look like fragile, weeping willows?” “Officer, does this count as another count of defamation?” The officer ran my ID card through his mobile scanner. Beep. My information popped up crystal clear on his screen. Sex: F.

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My fiancé got amnesia. He forgot everything—except, selectively, me. He was faking it. I didn’t expose him. Our marriage certificate turned into a divorce decree. Yet, three days later, the wedding I had meticulously planned for a month went on exactly as scheduled. He was still the groom, but the bride wasn’t me anymore. It was his on-again, off-again ex-girlfriend. When we met again, he grabbed my wrist, completely losing his mind: “Chloe, where did you go?! Why didn’t you come looking for me?!” I put on a perfectly blank expression, looking at him defensively: “Excuse me, sir, who are you? Do I know you?” 1 “Chloe, get over here. We’re getting a divorce.” Liam’s words were blunt and brutal. I stayed silent. He didn’t need my answer anyway. He hung up the phone. Liam was my fiancé. He had amnesia. And the very first thing he did after “losing his memory” was summon me to sign divorce papers. We had just gotten our marriage license at City Hall that morning; by the afternoon, we were annulling it. When I walked into the county clerk’s office, I found that Liam wasn’t alone. The woman clinging intimately to his arm was very familiar to me. It was his ex-girlfriend, Mia. She and Liam had a toxic, on-again, off-again relationship for five years. Until I showed up. Now, Liam had “forgotten” me. And she was right back by his side. Seeing me, the smile on Mia’s face vanished. She stammered, “Chloe, please don’t misunderstand… Liam and I are just…” As she spoke, she didn’t loosen her grip; she actually held onto him tighter. Liam proactively covered her hand with his own, claiming his territory: “I asked Mia to come with me. You don’t have to misunderstand anything. She is my girlfriend.” My heart violently seized. Meeting Mia’s triumphant gaze, I numbly nodded my head. There weren’t many people processing divorces today. When we got to the counter, the clerk shot me a bewildered look. She recognized me. Liam and I had just been here this morning to get our marriage certificate. She had even congratulated us: “Wishing you a lifetime of happiness.” And now, we were back in the afternoon. To get a divorce. But the person holding Liam’s arm wasn’t me. It was Mia. I stood in front of them, a completely isolated figure. The clerk’s lips moved silently as she cast a highly suspicious look at the three of us. After a long pause, she said, “This is highly unusual.” Liam frowned. He was getting impatient. He made a phone call. Very quickly, thanks to his connections, the expedited annulment paperwork was pushed through. I clutched the stamped document in my hand, a bitter smile curling on my lips. Mia pretended to bring it up casually: “Since you’re already divorced, you’re not going to keep squatting at Liam’s house, right?” She covered her mouth, feigning sympathy: “Oh, I’m sorry, I know you don’t have anywhere else to go. You were married, after all… if you want to stay for a few days, Liam wouldn’t mind…” Liam cut her off, his voice devoid of any emotion: “We’re divorced. Move out today.” It was so cold, so matter-of-fact. As if he wasn’t the one faking his amnesia. My throat instantly tightened. The glaringly white annulment papers burned my eyes. He faked amnesia just for this, didn’t he? Why bother? I was never the type to cling desperately to a dead relationship. If he wanted a divorce, why would I ever hold onto a man who didn’t love me? It was just laughable that my five years of devotion couldn’t even earn me an honest breakup. A marriage, ending in such an absurd, farcical tragedy. I took a deep breath. “Fine.” 2 The car Liam was driving was the one we had picked out together to be our wedding car. When we bought it, Liam had told me: “On our wedding day, I’m going to drive this exact car to bring my Chloe home.” I had never even sat in it yet. But right now, sitting in the passenger seat, was Mia. Liam leaned over to help her buckle her seatbelt. They were incredibly close. As Liam pulled back, Mia sweetly planted a kiss on his cheek. Instinctively, Liam looked up and locked eyes with me. Following Liam’s gaze, Mia saw me and pouted, “Sorry, this is the car Liam bought for me. It belongs to me exclusively. I don’t want any other woman sitting in it.” Liam looked at her with pure indulgence. “Whatever you say.” With that, Liam drove off with Mia, leaving me in the dust. The acrid smell of exhaust blew directly into my face. My nose stung, and my eyes gradually grew red. When I finally caught an Uber to the house, the massive front gates of the estate were locked tight. My luggage was thrown haphazardly outside the gates, scattered across the driveway. I knocked on the gate for a long time before the housekeeper, Maria, finally came out. She read the confusion in my eyes and hesitated before speaking: “Miss Mia ordered me to throw all of this out.” Mia’s voice floated over: “Oh? Are these your things? I’m so sorry, I thought it was just someone’s abandoned trash, so I had them throw it all out. I didn’t do it on purpose, you’re not mad, are you?” Mia walked out, arms crossed over her chest, a faint, smug satisfaction in her eyes. I forced a smile. “Miss Mia, your upbringing is truly concerning.” A harsh reprimand came from inside the house: “Chloe, don’t push your luck! Mia already apologized to you, what more do you want?” I looked over. Liam walked up to Mia’s side, his face cold as ice as he stared at me. His gaze swept over my scattered belongings on the ground, and he sneered: “What’s the difference between this junk and actual trash? Only you would value garbage like this.” My throat choked up. My heart suddenly seized so tightly I couldn’t breathe, let alone speak. He impatiently urged me: “Stop wasting time. Pack up your trash and get out. I don’t want to see you here again.” The feeling was mutual. There was absolutely no point in arguing or tangling with him anymore. I swallowed the bitterness lodged in my throat and silently began picking up my things. Even though I hadn’t lived here long, I had a lot of stuff. It packed two massive suitcases to the brim. This mansion was supposed to be our marital home. The meticulous interior design, the elegant, comfortable furniture… Every single detail, I had personally designed and arranged. Back then, I thought this was the home where Liam and I would spend the rest of our lives. But now, the house looked exactly the same, yet the person living in it wasn’t me anymore. The scenery remained, but the people had changed. I dragged my two heavy suitcases and started walking away. Mia took a deep, exaggerated breath. “Now that the trash is gone, the air smells so much fresher.” Hearing this, Liam ordered the housekeeper: “Maria, have a cleaning crew sanitize the house from top to bottom. If you find any more of her things, throw them straight into the dumpster.” I stopped in my tracks. I sniffled hard, forcing back the tears pooling in my eyes. I turned my head and looked directly at Mia. “The trash I didn’t want anymore… is all yours.” 3 I found a random, cheap apartment and moved in. Once the adrenaline wore off, I was physically and mentally exhausted. I lay in bed, sleeping in a pitch-black room for two straight days. On the third day, I got a call from my business partner. I was a high-end wedding planner. My friend and I had started our own boutique agency. I had planned weddings for countless beautiful couples. And I had spent an entire month meticulously planning my own. Now, that wedding hadn’t even happened, yet it was already a ghost of my past. When I heard the familiar names through the phone, my heart dropped. My voice trembled as I asked: “Who are the bride and groom?” The names Liam Vance and Mia Sterling drilled into my ears. My head was buzzing. Instinctively, I refused the job. My partner’s fearful voice came through the receiver: “Chloe, you know how powerful the Vance family is…” With a single word, Liam could ensure I would never find work in this city again. I hung up the phone, collapsing back onto the bed. Liam was coming for me. He specifically requested me to plan his wedding. I couldn’t hide. I hurriedly got ready and rushed to the wedding venue. The venue was a massive, luxury estate in the wine country. The estate featured a breathtaking, endless sea of lavender. When the breeze blew, the lavender swayed like a dream. I had originally booked this venue because lavender was my absolute favorite flower. I had hoped that on the most important day of my life, I could stand in a sea of lavender, holding hands with the man I loved, stepping into our future. But seeing this field of flowers now, a thick, suffocating bitterness wrapped around my heart. I forced the bitterness down and maintained a strictly professional demeanor as I discussed the wedding details with Mia. She was dissatisfied with everything, constantly pointing fingers, making me revise and change every little detail. Liam sat patiently by her side. His arm was wrapped around her waist, his face entirely devoid of impatience. Just days ago, he had held me exactly like this, listening tirelessly as I planned our wedding. After torturing me for four hours, Mia finally said: “Forget it, let’s just stick to the original plan. After all, Miss Chloe is the most familiar with it. I feel safe leaving it in your hands.” I stared at the dense notes on my iPad, my fingers gripping the edges tightly. The “original plan” she was talking about was the exact blueprint I had designed for my own wedding. Of course I was familiar with it. Seeing my tightly pursed lips, Mia curled her mouth into a delighted smirk. She said casually: “The wedding is tomorrow afternoon. I know it’s a bit rushed, but I believe Miss Chloe can pull it off perfectly, right?” I froze for a second. My wedding with Liam was originally scheduled for tomorrow afternoon as well. I looked up, meeting Mia’s smug, victorious gaze. The wedding I had spent a month pouring my heart into was now hers. It was sickening. After a long silence, I forced a single word out of my throat: “Yes.” Mia leaned against Liam, a dagger hidden in her smile: “Liam, Miss Chloe has been such a huge help. We definitely have to give her a massive tip on our wedding day.” Liam said coldly: “This is what she’s supposed to do. Otherwise, why would I pay her?” Hearing this, Mia’s smile grew even wider. I pressed my lips together and closed my eyes. My heart was so exhausted. So tired that I didn’t even have the energy to argue. After a moment of silence, I said quietly: “You are the clients. The client is always right.” 4 Once they left, I let out a long sigh of relief. I truly did not want to tangle with them anymore. But once some plays begin, I can’t just call “cut” whenever I want. I rubbed my temples. I couldn’t relax yet. They got to leave easily, dumping a massive mess in my lap. Thankfully, because I had been prepping this wedding for a month, the logistics were 80% complete. I just needed to tie up the loose ends. Despite that, I still ended up pulling an all-nighter. The next morning, I dragged myself out of bed. I had only slept for two hours. But the wedding was today, and I still had a million fires to put out. During the setup, I was so exhausted I could barely stand straight. I closed my eyes, my head spinning, my footsteps stumbling. Suddenly, someone caught my arm to steady me. I opened my eyes. It was Liam. Instinctively, I shoved him away. A flash of shock crossed his face, quickly replaced by a cold glare: “Why are you standing around daydreaming? The wedding is pure chaos right now, shouldn’t you be out there managing it?” I forced a weak smile. The money is hard to earn, and the shit is hard to swallow. I didn’t have the energy to fight him. I turned around to walk away, but someone called my name. Mia, wearing a stunning, extravagant purple bridal gown that cinched her tiny waist, walked gracefully toward us. My eyes unavoidably landed on her dress. This exact dress was the one Liam had originally chosen for me. And now, it was on Mia’s body. My fingernails dug into my palms, the sharp pain tugging at the snapping string of my sanity. Mia smugly twirled in front of me. She wore a fake, sickeningly sweet smile: “Miss Chloe, do you think this dress looks good? Does it fit the vibe of the venue today?” I couldn’t speak. I just nodded randomly. Her smile widened, her eyes locking onto me darkly: “I wonder if we could ask Miss Chloe to be our wedding MC today?” The string in my mind finally snapped. I clenched my jaw, staying silent. Liam said softly: “Mia, stop playing around. It’s not appropriate.” Mia grabbed his arm and whined: “Why isn’t it appropriate? I believe in Miss Chloe’s abilities! If she’s been in this industry for so long and can’t even MC a wedding, why does she even own a wedding planning company?” Liam, completely whipped by her whining, coaxed her gently: “Alright, whatever you want.” His cold gaze shifted to me, his tone rigid: “Miss Chloe, you will be the MC for our wedding today.” A bitter smile crept onto my lips: “And if I refuse?” Liam furrowed his brow, threatening me directly: “Then I can only assume you lack the professional capability. And I think a company like yours has no business surviving in this city.” I bit down hard on the tip of my tongue. The metallic taste of blood flooded my mouth, forcing the lump in my throat back down. How humiliating. Couldn’t we just part ways peacefully? I was never going to stalk him or beg for him back. Even without this humiliation today, I would have avoided them like the plague forever. Why did he have to degrade me like this? I nodded numbly. With heavy, exhausted steps, I walked past them. But as I brushed past Mia, I paused. I asked in a low voice: “Miss Mia, do you really just love wearing other people’s hand-me-downs?” 5 The words slipped out before I could stop them. I didn’t stick around to see the dark, furious look on Mia’s face; I just kept walking quickly. The wedding officially began at 6:00 PM. The sky was ablaze with a breathtaking, fiery sunset. The golden hour light spilled over the sea of lavender, looking like a literal dream. Mia, in her gorgeous purple gown, walked slowly through the lavender fields. Amidst thunderous applause, she placed her hand into Liam’s. My eyes suddenly welled with tears. This wedding was the exact carbon copy of the one I had spent a month planning. I had envisioned this exact moment in my head countless times. But the bride wasn’t me. My love story had mutated into something unrecognizable. I stood there like a marionette, numbly reciting the MC script I had prepared. The entire venue was filled with laughter and joy, while my heart was as dead and still as a stagnant pool of water. The wedding celebrations lasted late into the night. I stumbled back to my crappy apartment. The moment I hit the mattress, I passed out into a heavy, feverish sleep. I woke up to my phone ringing incessantly. My face was flushed, and my forehead was burning up. I had a severe fever. The phone wouldn’t stop ringing. I forced myself up and fumbled for it. My vision was blurry; I couldn’t read the caller ID. But the familiar voice came through the speaker. I knew it was Liam. He was speaking in a deeply annoyed tone: “Mia, what is wrong with you? Can you put a little effort in? Can’t you handle the basic logistics after the wedding? You’ve been missing all morning…” I casually hung up the phone. I didn’t have time for his unhinged rambling. I was the boss of my company; I didn’t need to micromanage every single minor post-event detail. My body felt like it was falling apart. I managed to find some meds and dry-swallowed them. The moment I lay back down, I passed out again. My dreams were an absolute mess. Memories of Liam and me cut through my nightmares like shards of glass. They crashed down on me, shattering into pieces, leaving me bruised and bleeding. I was sick for an entire week. At its worst, I had to go to the hospital and get an IV drip for three days. By the time I recovered, the potted lavender I kept on my windowsill had withered and died. The language of lavender means “waiting for love.” But my love had withered. Even the memories were nothing but humiliation and degradation now. I blocked Liam’s number. Since he wanted to fake amnesia, I wanted him to commit to the bit completely. It would be best if we never crossed paths again for the rest of our lives. I didn’t want to stay in this city. I started traveling for work constantly. When I returned from my final business trip, a month had already passed. As I walked out of my office building, a black Mercedes was parked by the curb. A man was leaning against the door, smoking a cigarette. The smoke obscured his face. His gaze suddenly locked onto me. He crushed the cigarette out and walked quickly toward me. It was Liam. Before I could dodge him, he grabbed my wrist. He looked completely unhinged as he interrogated me: “Chloe, where the hell did you go?! Why didn’t you come looking for me?!” I pressed my lips tightly together. I looked up, my face completely blank. I looked at him defensively and asked: “Excuse me, sir, who are you? Do I know you?” 6 The shock on Liam’s face was impossible to hide. His grip on my wrist tightened anxiously. “Chloe, what nonsense are you spouting? Do you really not know who I am?!” A sharp pain shot through my wrist. I frowned, my eyes turning cold. “Sir, please let go. This is harassment. If you don’t let go, I’m calling the police.” Liam didn’t let go. His eyes searched my face. Seeing the genuine lack of recognition in my eyes, sheer panic and terror washed over his features. His voice shook: “Chloe, it’s me, Liam. I’m your… husband.” I didn’t believe him. In my struggle to break free, I bit his hand hard. He flinched in pain but still wouldn’t let go. I screamed at the top of my lungs: “HELP!” He tried to cover my mouth, but it was too late. Passersby immediately crowded around us. He frantically tried to explain: “I’m her husband! We’re just having a fight!” I pulled his hand away and yelled in panic: “He’s lying! I don’t know him!” Seeing my distress, the crowd aggressively pinned Liam down. A good Samaritan called the cops. The police car took both of us to the precinct. Liam was my husband. Keyword: was. Now, he was just my ex-husband. The date on our marriage certificate and the date on our divorce decree were exactly the same. Our married life didn’t even last 24 hours. After looking into the records and realizing the truth, the officers looked at Liam with pure disgust. After a severe, humiliating lecture from the cops, Liam was finally released. Standing outside the precinct, Liam’s eyes were glued to me. He asked hoarsely: “Chloe, do you really not remember me?” I took a few steps back in disgust, speaking coldly: “I got severely sick a month ago and lost a lot of my memories. Should I remember you? If I forgot you, it just means you weren’t important.” Hearing this, Liam looked incredibly hurt. He opened his mouth, wanting to say something. I cut him off: “I heard you’re my ex-husband. Since you managed to become my ex-husband, I assume there’s absolutely no need for us to stay in contact.” Liam panicked instantly: “Chloe, please, let me explain…” “Liam!” Mia’s voice cut through the air. I looked over. Mia was practically sprinting toward us, glaring at me with absolute hostility. She aggressively linked her arm through Liam’s, staking her claim, and demanded: “Why are you here?!” I let out a scoff: “Are you his wife? You should probably be interrogating your husband instead of harassing an innocent bystander!” Mia looked suspicious, but forced a confident front: “Liam would never do anything wrong.” But, highly out of character, Liam violently shoved Mia’s arm away. From start to finish, he didn’t even look at her. He took a step toward me, but stopped, seemingly stung by my defensive glare. He explained, his voice thick with emotion: “Chloe, she’s not my wife. I never married her. You are my only wife.” Mia’s face instantly turned black. She anxiously grabbed for Liam’s hand, her voice frantic: “Liam, let’s go home, okay?” Liam shoved her away out of pure reflex. Mia fell hard onto the concrete, letting out a cry of pain. She started crying pitifully: “Liam, it hurts.” But this still didn’t grab Liam’s attention. His eyes were dead-set on me. His voice sounded almost pathetic: “Chloe, please, let me explain. I had amnesia before, and I was tricked into divorcing you. But now I remember everything…” I interrupted him impatiently: “I don’t care. Please stop harassing me.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391309”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Ever since my rebirth, I’ve ignored every single phone call from my mob boss husband and deleted all his texts the second I read them. I spent my days bar-hopping with my girls, surrounded by a pack of eager young men trying to get my attention. When I stumbled home after my eighth hangover, practically running on fumes, Arthur was blocking the front door. “Where did the guy who bought you drinks tonight touch you?” I giggled, my eyes hazy with alcohol. “My hands, duh. How else was I supposed to shake the dice cup?” A storm brewed in his eyes. He ordered his men standing behind him, “Go find that guy and chop his hands off.” I let out a scoff and walked right past him. “Whatever you want!” In my past life, I was married to him for eight years. Known in the underground as the “Queen of Spades,” I won back the massive Canaan Casino for him at the poker table, standing by his side as he climbed from a desperate outlaw to the uncrowned king of the criminal underworld. But after he achieved everything, he became obsessed with the new card-shuffling girl at the casino. Her name was Chloe Vance. She had been sold to the casino like a piece of merchandise, as clean and fragile as a blank sheet of paper. Arthur set her up in the VIP shuffling room, personally teaching her how to deal cards and read the chips. It wasn’t until I checked the casino’s internal database for core members that I discovered my marital status had been changed to “Divorced.” When I confronted Arthur, he dismissed it completely: “Chloe has no one to rely on. Giving her an official title ensures she won’t be bullied anymore.” “You’re universally recognized as the ‘Boss Lady’ in our circles. Why are you making a fuss over something so trivial?” I had a complete breakdown, stormed into the shuffling room, and slapped Chloe across the face in front of everyone. That very night, my younger brother, Leo—who had risked his life working for Arthur—was dragged back to the casino. They broke both his legs right in front of me and threw him into the back alley. “Evelyn, this is the price you pay for touching Chloe!” I fell to my knees, begging him to stop, until the color completely drained from my brother’s face and he died right in front of my eyes. I felt a rush of warm fluid between my legs, a tearing pain in my abdomen, and then… everything went black. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the exact day I discovered my marital status had been altered. This time, I didn’t scream or demand answers. I secretly sold off all my private jewelry and bought plane tickets. All I wanted was to take my brother and escape this demon’s lair named Arthur. … After discovering the anomaly in my status, I took my ID to the county clerk’s office to verify it. “Ms. Davis, the system shows your marital status is ‘Divorced.’” Hearing the clerk’s voice, I finally confirmed that everything from my past life was real. The date the divorce was finalized was my birthday. Knowing how busy Arthur was, I had rented out the highest revolving restaurant in Canaan and even arranged for fireworks. I waited from sunset until dawn the next day, and he never showed up. It turned out he was busy signing another piece of paper, completely erasing my existence from his life. I pulled myself out of the memory. When I returned to the casino, I saw Arthur’s black Maybach parked by the curb near the main entrance. In my past life, I would have charged forward in a hysterical rage to confront him. Arthur, terrified that Chloe would see me, didn’t even wait for her to get out of the passenger seat before violently kicking me into a corner. This time, I immediately ducked into the shadows behind a large pillar. The car door opened, and Arthur stepped out first. He walked around to the passenger side and personally opened the door, his movements displaying a level of patience and meticulous care I had never seen before. A girl in a pale blue sundress stepped out timidly. She stood awkwardly next to the gleaming luxury car, looking completely out of place. It was Chloe. Arthur took off his suit jacket, draped it over her fragile shoulders, and wrapped his arm around her waist, guiding her toward the casino entrance. “Arthur…” Chloe hesitated, stopping in her tracks. “I have nothing left. I only have you… I really can’t afford to lose…” Arthur turned sideways, pulling her tightly into his embrace. His voice carried a certainty and tenderness I had never heard: “What are you afraid of? From now on, you are the lady of this house. Besides you, no one else has that right!” “If you end up not liking it here, I’ll find a quiet place later and build a resort just for you to play in…” The casino thugs, who used to follow me around bowing and respectfully calling me “Boss Lady,” now all bowed deeply toward Chloe, their voices loud and sycophantic: “Good evening, Boss!” They surrounded the girl, who looked like a startled deer, and escorted her into the glittering demon’s lair. I pressed my hands hard against my stomach. Only after they had all gone inside did I stumble out of the shadows. I wiped away my tears, leaving nothing but cold, absolute resolve in my eyes. I went to the hospital alone and booked an appointment for an abortion. The doctor looked at the ultrasound screen, frowning deeply. “Ms. Davis, your constitution is unique. You haven’t been able to conceive for the past seven years. If you abort this pregnancy, you may never be able to get pregnant again.” I let out a self-deprecating laugh. “I’m already divorced. I don’t want to bring a child into the world without a father.” As the cold liquid was pushed into my IV, my consciousness began to slip away. In a haze, I saw the Arthur of the past, pressing his ear against my stomach, laughing and saying this kid would definitely be a master gambler, and that he’d teach him how to read cards from day one. He called a fortune teller to pick out the luckiest possible name. He held me and promised that once he found a successor, he would take me and our child away from the casino to travel the world… In the end, all that warmth shattered into dust the moment he told Chloe, “Only you are worthy of being the lady of this casino.” After regaining consciousness, I dragged my hollowed-out body to my brother Leo’s hospital room. Thankfully, Leo had only suffered minor injuries during a job this time and would recover quickly. In my past life, my brother was beaten to death right in front of me. In this life, I would not be so foolish. I contacted a fixer on the black market and paid a premium for two tickets to a third country, departing in three days. If I went through official channels, Arthur would undoubtedly find out immediately. I also called my only trusted subordinate, slipped him a large sum of cash, and had him secretly discharge Leo from the hospital. Having arranged everything, I finally relaxed a bit. I hailed a cab and gave the driver an address a few blocks away from the villa. It was a long-standing habit of mine; the casino had countless enemies, and I always took precautions to prevent anyone from discovering our exact address. But the moment I stepped out of the cab, a man grabbed me from behind, clapping a hand tightly over my mouth, and dragged me backward! I fought desperately against his grip, but before I could run a few steps, another man swung a sharp weapon hard into my back! A violent burst of pain erupted, and warm blood instantly soaked my shirt. I didn’t even have to guess—these were Arthur’s enemies. The casino had swallowed up so much territory; the line of people who wanted him and those close to him dead could stretch all the way to the docks. I reached for the concealed knife in my bag, but someone twisted my arm behind my back. They snatched my phone and smashed it to pieces. “Bitch, hold still!” The man choking me dragged me toward a beat-up van parked on the street. Just as I was about to succumb to despair, a familiar black Maybach turned onto the main road. It was Arthur’s car! I summoned the very last ounce of my strength, screaming hoarsely, thrashing wildly to get the attention of whoever was inside the car. The car visibly jerked and slowed down. He saw me! But the next second, the Maybach accelerated without hesitation, speeding away from the intersection. Through the tinted window, I saw Arthur pull Chloe, who was in the passenger seat, into his chest, shielding her eyes so she wouldn’t look in my direction. It was as if the woman outside the window wasn’t his wife about to be dragged away and tortured to death, but just a filthy, insignificant incident unworthy of tainting his new love’s pure eyes. Every last shred of struggle and hope instantly drained from my body. Agonizing pain and freezing cold washed over me as the darkness swallowed my final sliver of consciousness. When I woke up, I was lying in a private hospital room. The door wasn’t completely shut, and the low hum of conversation drifted in. “Boss, the Madam is severely injured this time. If she finds out about Ms. Chloe’s existence…” It was Arthur’s private doctor, Ken. Before he could finish, Arthur’s cold, harsh voice cut him off: “Watch your mouth. Your job is to heal her, don’t overstep!” “Evelyn has been in the underworld for years. There’s no dirty trick she hasn’t seen; she’s a master at it herself.” “Chloe is different from her. She’s as clean as a blank sheet of paper. She can’t compete with Evelyn.” He paused, lowering his voice further: “If she wakes up and makes a scene, go grab her brother. He’s her only living relative; there’s no way she’ll abandon him.” I gripped the bedsheets tightly, my teeth biting into my lower lip until the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. The night I helped him secure the largest casino in Canaan, he promised me: “Evelyn, from this day forward, in the Canaan underground, no one will ever lay a finger on you.” The same words, the same promise of protection—only the person he was protecting had changed. The woman he once treated as his most precious treasure had become, in his own words, a malicious, dangerous threat that needed to be guarded against. Footsteps approached. I closed my eyes, pretending I was just waking up. “You’re awake? We found out who did it. It was that Thai crew—the ones whose hands we smashed for cheating at the tables last time.” Arthur tossed a file in front of me. “Sign this settlement agreement, and they’ve promised to hand over management of the East District.” The East District was the last relatively “clean” territory in Canaan. It was coastal, with no casinos or gray-market businesses. I remembered what he had told Chloe: “I’ll find a quiet place later and build a resort just for you to play in…” So all my wounds and spilled blood were just bargaining chips he used to build a gilded cage for his new love. I asked hoarsely, “Arthur, when exactly did you negotiate this deal?” Was it the moment you saw me being dragged away, or long before, when you decided to use my blood to pave the road for your sweetheart? He frowned, clearly displeased by my questioning. I offered a weak, cynical smile and stopped asking. The answer didn’t matter anymore. Perhaps to placate me, he stayed in my room for the next two days to handle his business. But his phone never left his hand. While eating, he would take pictures of his food and send them off, a gentle smile—one I had never seen before—playing on his lips. Looking at his profile, my mind drifted back to eight years ago. The first time I met him wasn’t in a casino; it was in a dark alley. He had been caught cheating, and seven or eight guys with machetes had cornered him. He was about to lose an arm. I had just won a massive payout. I stepped in, bought his way out, and dragged him back to my apartment. Later, my father, who was back in our home country, racked up massive gambling debts and was driven to suicide by a drug cartel. I was snatched up to pay his debt, a toxic needle pressed against my vein. It was Arthur who kicked the door down at the absolute last second and saved me. By then, he had already taken over a small casino, and he made me the invisible “Queen of Spades” working the tables. I helped him swallow up rival casinos one by one, draining his competitors dry. I knew my hands were already stained with filth and blood that could never be washed off. But even if the whole world thought I was dirty, he had no right to! After I was discharged, Arthur claimed he was busy with business and never showed up again. I was leaving tomorrow. Taking advantage of his absence, I returned to the top floor of the casino and retrieved my passport and essential IDs from the safe. But as I stepped out of the elevator, my legs gave out, and I stumbled violently forward. The fall I expected never came. A pair of delicate hands caught me just in time. “Are you okay?” The voice was soft, gentle, carrying a cautious, genuine kindness. I looked up and met Chloe’s clear, innocent eyes. She was wearing a casino dealer’s uniform, but she still looked completely out of place. She didn’t recognize me. She thought I was just a regular gambler who had lost everything and was stumbling around in a daze. “I’m fine. Thank you.” I stood up straight, eager to leave as quickly as possible. But she didn’t let go. Instead, she gently pulled me toward the employee break area. “You look terrible. Come sit in the back and rest for a bit.” For some inexplicable reason, I didn’t refuse. She poured me a cup of warm water and pulled a bag of dried mangoes and a pastry from her locker. “Eat something. Don’t be too sad about losing money. Go home early; your family is definitely waiting for you!” Seeing my silence, she hesitated, then pulled a few bills from her uniform pocket and pressed them into my hand. “Use this for cab fare… but I can’t help you with the plane ticket.” It felt like something was blocking my throat. I wanted so badly to tell her: Stay away from Arthur. That man has no heart. His tenderness is poison wrapped in honey. But the words died on my lips. If she found out who I was, she would definitely break things off with Arthur. And when that happened, I would be the one he blamed. With only one day left, I couldn’t gamble with my life and my brother’s life. I accepted Chloe’s kind gesture, thanked her, and turned to leave quickly through the back exit. The moment I stepped past the threshold, a cold, hard object was pressed violently against my temple. A gun barrel! I instinctively whipped my head around. Chloe was already lying unconscious on the hallway floor. I was just about to strike back when the butt of a rifle slammed into the back of my neck, and everything went black. When I opened my eyes again, Chloe and I were tied up in an abandoned warehouse. Chloe was sobbing quietly. “Who are you? Why did you kidnap us…” A man with a prominent facial scar slapped her hard across the face. “Because of your fiancé, Arthur! He swallowed my West District territory and cut off my money!” So it was the West District crew. Arthur had just acquired that territory using the settlement agreement signed with my blood. Fortunately, they didn’t know who I was. Chloe, who Arthur had been parading around recently, became the primary target. I discreetly flexed my wrists, using the micro-blade hidden beneath my acrylic nail to start sawing at the ropes. Having lived on the edge for years, I always left myself an out. Scarface assumed I was just a random gambler and spat in my direction: “Tough luck for you, getting caught with this bitch. Call your family, tell them to bring five million, and I’ll let you go.” Chloe cried, her face stained with tears. “Ms. Davis, I’m so sorry. I dragged you into this. But don’t be afraid! My fiancé is very powerful; he’ll definitely come save us!” At the mention of Arthur, a look of absolute trust lit up Chloe’s eyes. I didn’t say a word, just sped up the sawing motion on the ropes. Scarface couldn’t seem to get through on his phone. In a fit of rage, he kicked over an oil drum. “Fuck! Arthur isn’t answering? Looks like I need to send him a nice gift to wake him up!” He picked up a combat knife from the floor, his eyes raking over Chloe’s body with a sick, twisted gleam: “I saw you two at the hospital. You’re carrying his bastard, aren’t you? Perfect. I’ll carve the little bastard out and send it to Arthur so he can get a good look!” My heart plummeted. She’s already pregnant with his child. Chloe went rigid with terror, her face the color of chalk. “No! I’m begging you… please don’t touch my baby!” The men around her laughed lewdly and reached out to grab her. At that exact second, the rope snapped. I sprang up like a cheetah, slamming my elbow brutally into Scarface’s jaw. With my other hand, I snatched the combat knife from him, rapidly sliced through Chloe’s ropes, and shoved her firmly behind me, shielding her with my body. “Fuck! Kill that bitch!” Scarface roared, clutching his jaw in a blind rage. Five or six men instantly swarmed us, wielding iron pipes. Even though I was highly trained in close-quarters combat, I was still recovering from severe injuries, and facing this many hardened killers, I quickly lost the upper hand. The iron pipes whistled through the air, slamming into my body. The sheer agony almost brought me to my knees. All I could do was use my own body as a meat shield, absorbing the blows to keep Chloe protected in the corner. Scarface clearly lost his patience. He racked the slide of his handgun with a loud clack, aiming the black barrel directly at me. “Stupid bitch, you wanna die?!” Right as his finger squeezed the trigger— A deafening explosion blew the warehouse doors off their hinges! Arthur and his heavily armed crew stormed in. Gunfire erupted instantly. Looking like an enraged lion, Arthur charged straight toward us, yanking Chloe into his arms. “Chloe, don’t be scared. I’m here.” Chloe let out a pathetic whimper against his chest. The sheer terror followed by the sudden relief caused her to pass out completely in his arms. Arthur gently carried her to his SUV, making sure she was safe and secure. Then, he turned around and walked toward me. “Evelyn!” His voice dripped with absolute, freezing venom. “Why the hell are you here?” I propped up my battered, agonizing body, meeting his interrogating glare, and let out a cold laugh: “Are you suspecting me?” Before I even finished speaking, a brutal, vicious backhand cracked across my face! The force of the blow sent me crashing to the floor. The taste of blood filled my mouth. “I knew you’ve been plotting against Chloe! You wanted to get rid of her, didn’t you?!” I spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva, my voice hoarse: “I didn’t.” He grabbed one of the dying thugs off the floor by the collar and pressed his gun to the man’s head. “Tell me. Who hired you?” The thug trembled violently. He looked at me with terror, and as if grasping at his final lifeline, he screamed: “It was… it was her! She paid us to teach that other girl a lesson…” My heart plummeted into an abyss of ice. My blood froze. Arthur let out a sinister laugh. Without a moment’s hesitation, he pulled the trigger. He tossed the corpse aside, crouched down, and stepped heavily onto my hand. The pain tore through me. His tone sounded almost like a disappointed sigh: “These hands of yours… they used to be so obedient. Why are you using them to hurt the woman I love most?” He pulled out a cold, gleaming combat dagger. “I told you, Evelyn. Never lay a finger on what’s mine!” As he finished speaking, the blade flashed in the dim light! My breath stopped completely! The dagger drove brutally through my palm, pinning my hand to the freezing concrete floor. “AHHHH—!” My entire body convulsed in agony. Black spots danced across my vision, and I hovered on the edge of passing out. The despair of facing my own demise ripped a scream from my throat: “Arthur! I never should have pulled you out of that alley eight years ago! And I never should have helped you claim the throne of Canaan!” With his own hands, he had completely obliterated the last remaining shred of history between us. He let out a dismissive snort through his nose. He stood up, gathered his men, and walked out of the warehouse without looking back once. I waited until the cold numbness began to slightly dull the piercing agony. Using my still-functional left hand, I dug a micro-GPS tracker out of my bra and pressed it with shaking fingers. My trusted subordinate arrived quickly. Seeing my horrific state, his eyes instantly went red. He carefully pulled the dagger out. My right hand was a mangled mess of blood and torn flesh, completely devoid of feeling. My voice was weak, but laced with an absolute, unprecedented resolve. “Set the warehouse on fire. Burn every single trace of this place to the ground.” “From this day forward, the ‘Queen of Spades’ is dead.”

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In my past life, I spent eighteen years as an orphan before finally being reunited with my biological parents. I never expected that my mother, Eleanor, who was pathologically obsessed with being the only woman in my father’s life, would hate me with a burning passion. For eighteen years, she had quietly “dealt with” any woman who got too close to my father. And naturally, she hated me too. The moment I arrived home and simply called out “Dad,” she slapped me across the face. “You little bitch! Think you can just walk in here, call him ‘Dad,’ and steal his attention?!” When my dad went to my high school for a senior parent-teacher conference, she waited until he got home and shredded my entire college application portfolio. “You still think you’re going to college?! I won’t let you use school as an excuse to steal my husband!” When college was no longer an option, my dad tried to send me abroad to study. The night before I was supposed to get my visa, she stabbed me to death in my own bed and sold my corpse to the dark web for snuff films. “Dead bitch! Thought you could take my husband away?!” I died with my eyes wide open, my face mutilated. The King of the Underworld took pity on my unjust death and granted me one wish. I made my wish quietly: “I want to be born into the absolute pinnacle of wealth and power. And I want to be born from a different belly—” 1 The King of the Underworld was truly a man of his word. With a loud buzzing in my head, I was stuffed into a warm, fleshy womb. I was just trying to guess what kind of woman the King had picked to be my mother, when I heard someone scream in pure terror: “I’m a man! How the hell am I pregnant?!” The scream pierced the night sky. The doctors in the examination room looked like they wanted to cut their own ears off. How were they supposed to know how Dominic Vance, the richest billionaire in Seattle, managed to get pregnant?! The attending physician finally stood up straight. Bearing immense pressure, he stuttered, “Mr. Vance… you are, indeed… carrying a child.” I, however, instantly realized what was happening and was ecstatic. Holy shit! The heavens have blessed me! I was actually reincarnated into Dominic Vance’s stomach! The King of the Underworld really came through! In my past life, my dad’s business deals were constantly being hijacked by Dominic’s father. I used to hear my dad screaming and cursing in his study all the time. Now that Dominic had taken over his family’s empire, he was even more ruthless and unforgiving, completely crushing my dad’s company without breaking a sweat. But a few years ago, a massive scandal broke out regarding Dominic. Despite having countless lovers, not a single one ever got pregnant. The reason? He suffered from azoospermia—he had a zero sperm count! Due to a severe injury in his youth, having a child was supposed to be literally impossible for him. So, for this pregnancy, Dominic would have to grit his teeth, hold his nose, and give birth to me no matter what. This was absolutely fantastic. Having died once, I was much more open-minded. I knew exactly what being born into a family like this meant. I was going to grow safely and healthily inside his belly, carrying the exact face that Eleanor hated so much. Didn’t you hate me competing for your husband’s attention? Didn’t you want me dead? Didn’t you want me to rot? In this life, I am going to rewrite my destiny with my own two hands… and then I will stand above her, looking down. I will tell Eleanor that her entire life was a joke. She was a nobody. What gave her the right to treat me like that? I came back to this life for one reason: revenge. I curled up quietly, determined to stay secure in the womb for the next ten months. Suddenly, a voice that sounded like a living nightmare echoed from outside: “I will have the hospital director fire you, believe it! You clearly haven’t asked around to see who I am! How dare you tell me ‘it’s against protocol’?!” It was Eleanor! A crisp slap rang out, followed by the sound of someone falling heavily to the floor. “I am going to find out today! Whoever dares to help that little bitch steal my husband, I will chop them to pieces!” My dad, Richard, trembled. His voice was tight: “Eleanor, let’s just go to a different hospital.” I felt my new dad, Dominic, carefully hold onto the bedrail, stand up, and stroll out of the room with a casual, arrogant swagger. “What’s all this noise about?” Richard went dead silent. Eleanor was about to unleash a string of curses, but Richard slapped a hand over her mouth. Dominic looked at them with sheer contempt. “Well, well, if it isn’t Richard. Haven’t seen you try to fight me in the boardroom lately. I guess you’ve been too busy helping your wife throw a tantrum in someone else’s hospital?” That single sentence turned my former parents’ faces the color of bruised plums. Dominic was the majority shareholder of this hospital. I cheered internally from inside his belly. That’s how you use your words! In my past life, this absolute menace Dominic should have been my dad! Dominic’s highly trained bodyguards swarmed forward, dragged Eleanor away, and tossed both her and Richard onto the sidewalk outside the inpatient building. Once Dominic walked back inside to finish his examination, I comfortably flipped over in his belly, stretching my limbs out so the doctor could check my fetal heartbeat. The doctor praised, “The ultrasound is so clear… what a good baby…” But catching Dominic’s dark, brooding, suppressed anger, the doctor immediately shut up. Completely baffled by the situation, Dominic had no choice but to take his magically appearing pregnancy home and become a pregnant man. Thanks to Dominic’s immense wealth and his private nutritionist, I ate incredibly well and grew very strong. 2 After getting pregnant with me, even though Dominic cursed constantly, he still meticulously got all his checkups, quit smoking and drinking, and started going to bed early. He sighed, “Good kid, you better behave before I give birth to you. Don’t cause me any trouble. Once you’re born, Daddy will spoil you.” I wanted to die laughing. Watching Dominic admit defeat was incredibly entertaining. By the second trimester, even though it was winter and he wore loose, thick hoodies to hide it, his belly grew noticeably bigger every single day. He was extremely busy with his empire. When he first took over his father’s business, plenty of people were waiting for him to fail, and countless uncles and board members wanted to usurp his position. He had survived kidnappings and car crashes, neutralizing every threat and retaliating tenfold. Ever since his infertility scandal leaked, the sharks were probably circling again. As his belly became impossible to hide, Dominic moved into a high-end, private recovery clinic. He told the public he was suffering from an illness that required total bed rest. Perhaps it was the lingering blood connection from my past life, or perhaps our karmic debt wasn’t settled, but I sensed that Eleanor was staying on the floor right below us. She was forty years old this year, officially a high-risk geriatric pregnancy. Remembering the torture she put me through, I let out a cold sneer. I intentionally rolled around in Dominic’s belly every day, making him feel restless, so he would secretly wander downstairs to get some air. Because I was a good baby and didn’t cause him morning sickness or pain, his pregnancy was actually pretty easy. Before we even reached Eleanor’s floor, I heard her vicious voice echoing from the stairwell: “I’ll teach you to steal my husband—” For eighteen years, no woman had been allowed to stay near my dad, Richard. Eleanor was the main reason for that. Now that she was finally pregnant again, her last hospital visit was purely to find out the baby’s gender. If they couldn’t produce an heir, the family bloodline would end. I heard the sound of her aggressively jumping rope, her feet slamming heavily against the floor. Thud, thud, thud. I snorted coldly. You reap what you sow. Dominic clearly heard it too and stopped in his tracks. Eleanor’s older sister sounded incredibly worried as she tried to stop her. “Enough, Eleanor, stop it! You’re going too far—” Eleanor looked resentful and deranged. “What if it’s that little bitch’s ghost?! What if she reincarnated into my belly?! That cheap whore!” She picked up an iron pipe and started hitting her own stomach hard, acting as if she couldn’t feel the pain. I literally didn’t know what to say. After a long while, Eleanor dropped the pipe, her face pale as she cursed, “Dead brat! If you dare try to steal my husband, I’ll throw you in an orphanage! And then I’ll hire a bunch of men to gang-rape you! Letting that little bitch live to be eighteen was my biggest mistake!” Inside Dominic’s belly, it felt like I was struck by lightning. W-What?! Her sister kept trying to reason with her. “What if it’s a boy? Why are you torturing him? You’re forty years old. Just live a quiet life with Richard. Isn’t all his money yours anyway?” Eleanor’s face was dark. “My intuition tells me it’s a girl! It’s a worthless bitch! It’s definitely that slut trying to steal my husband again!” Seeing that she couldn’t be reasoned with, her sister sighed and stopped talking. Dominic let out an amused, mocking smirk. I felt his disbelief, but I uncomfortably rolled over in his belly. Even though I never expected anything from that family, hearing such a venomous curse still chilled me to the bone. Sensing my unease, Dominic turned around and took me back upstairs to our suite. Dominic’s room was on the top floor. We rarely ran into Eleanor, except during checkups. 3 During this ultrasound, I stretched my arms and legs out just like always and turned my face directly toward the wand. As fate would have it, Eleanor was right next door. She was begging the doctor to tell her the baby’s gender again, and the doctor was strictly refusing. “Ma’am, you are a high-risk pregnancy. If you abort this baby, it will severely damage your body, and you will likely never conceive again.” Eleanor started screaming, “But I don’t want a girl! What did I do wrong?! Check it right now! If you don’t check the gender, I’m not leaving!” Her sister finally seemed to snap. She marched up and slapped Eleanor across the face. “Shut the fuck up! You’re about to hit menopause, but your husband can still produce kids! If you keep acting crazy and he divorces you, you’ll be the one crying!” That single slap managed to silence Eleanor. She covered her face and started crying. Dominic closed his eyes in irritation, and I quickly moved around to soothe him. His mood gradually stabilized. I was never going to experience the slaps, the neglect, and the destruction of my dreams from my past life ever again. Sometimes, after a long day of reviewing documents, Dominic would awkwardly rub his belly. “Kid, you really make things easy for your dad. No pain, no insomnia, no puking. I’m pretty lucky.” I gently pressed against his hand through his stomach, pretending to be sweet. He sighed, “If you’re a boy, great. If you’re a girl… Dad will find you a husband who takes your last name. And you’re still going to learn how to inherit the company!” Me: …You’re an interesting guy, Dad. After multiple checkups, I figured out Eleanor’s routine. When her husband—my ex-dad—was around, she radiated maternal warmth, constantly murmuring about how giving him a child was her life’s only wish. But the moment Richard left, she went completely psychotic. She refused to eat nutritious food. She took massive doses of hormonal drugs. She drank alcohol like it was water. She even tried to steal neurological medication from the hospital pharmacy. “You little slut, trying to torture me with another pregnancy, huh? I’m going to starve you! Let’s see how much you can grow!” After two months in the clinic, while other pregnant women were glowing, she had tortured herself until she was nothing but skin and bones. Yet her eyes were filled with the manic, vindictive thrill of revenge. She even booked extreme sports tours—bungee jumping, skiing, high diving—she did it all. In contrast, Dominic was perfectly calm. He didn’t cause trouble, and he maintained a strict sleep schedule. I was growing strong and cooperative. Every time the doctors saw us, they were practically beaming with satisfaction, even if they were too scared of Dominic to praise him out loud. Years of high-stress corporate grinding had taken a toll on Dominic’s body, but this forced bed rest actually helped him recover. At the very least, he wouldn’t get knocked out by a simple flu anymore. One day, during a checkup, Dominic went into the private VIP room as usual. Eleanor was in the room next door. I heard her say, “Hey sister, looking at your pointy belly, I can tell it’s a boy! When’s your due date? Oh, I’m just curious.” I was baffled. When did this woman become so insane? After asking a whole string of pregnant women, she seemed to pick a target. While chatting with the woman, she let her true intentions slip and was brutally cursed out by the other mother. After that incident, Eleanor started looking at every pregnant belly and asking for due dates. She even intentionally threw herself down a flight of stairs once. The doctors and nurses were so terrified they didn’t dare hide it; they called Richard immediately. Richard stormed into the clinic and slapped Eleanor across the face. “What the hell are you trying to do?!” But I felt absolutely nothing. In my past life, when I was living in terror under Eleanor’s abuse, he just stood by and watched coldly. Did he care about his child? Not at all. All he cared about was his wife embarrassing him at the hospital. He had stood by and watched my suffering in my past life. He was one of my murderers too. 4 Dominic’s due date was originally supposed to be slightly after Eleanor’s, but because Eleanor had tortured her body so much during the pregnancy, she went into labor early but couldn’t deliver. When I finally left the warm placenta and saw the world for the first time… In the dead of night, a woman bleeding from her lower half dragged her paralyzed legs like a ghost, crawling into the neonatal nursery. First, she checked the ID bracelets on all the babies’ wrists. I felt a chill run down my spine, but then I relaxed. I was a girl. I didn’t have the parts she wanted. Eleanor would never swap me. I had nothing to worry about. Eleanor set her sights on a baby boy sleeping in the bassinet next to mine. She quietly slipped his wristband off, intending to go back to her own bed and swap the tags. Throughout this, I tried my hardest to pretend I was asleep. Don’t mess with crazy. But to my absolute shock, right as she was about to succeed, Eleanor used the faint beam of her flashlight and noticed me. The color drained from her face. In an instant, pure venom and terror crawled across her features. She screamed, “I knew it! I knew a little bitch like you wouldn’t give up! It was you eighteen years ago! How could I ever forget your face?!” Looking at her twisted expression, genuine fear gripped my heart. She snatched a cleaning rag from the nurse’s station and slammed it over my face. She grabbed a cup of scalding hot water and poured it directly onto me, while her other hand violently pounded against my chest. “I’ll teach you to haunt me! I’ll teach you to show your face in front of me! You subhuman piece of trash, you don’t deserve to be reincarnated into my belly!” Hearing my muffled cries, Eleanor grabbed a pair of umbilical cord scissors from a nearby cart and stabbed them viciously toward my mouth twice. Still not satisfied, she clamped her hand tightly over my mouth and started slapping my face. The oxygen in my lungs was slowly being sucked away. I kicked my legs in sheer terror. My head was spinning, and my skin was covered in bleeding scratches from her pinching me. Eleanor looked at me with a hatred that seeped into her very bones. She dug her fingernails into the bleeding cuts on my body, gouging them ruthlessly. I convulsed in agonizing pain. Watching my helpless, agonizing struggle, Eleanor took a deep breath. It was as if she had just absorbed some dark nourishment, and a long-lost smile of peaceful, blissful relief spread across her face. “In this life… just go ahead and die…” Hearing her words, tears of pure terror rolled down my cheeks. No. In my heart, I screamed Dominic’s name with everything I had. Hurry up and get here! Damn it, if I die, your bloodline is actually going to end! 5 A sharp gust of wind blew open the heavy doors. Dominic stood in the doorway, his face darker than a thundercloud, staring at the scene in the room. He gritted out, word by excruciating word: “How… dare… you… touch… her!” I was being choked so hard I was on the verge of passing out, yet I somehow still had the energy to be sarcastic in my head. See? Men are just built better for having kids. His physical recovery is insane. Only then did the bodyguards behind my freshly postpartum dad catch up, panting heavily. They stared at the scene in the room, absolutely horrified. It was only then that Eleanor reacted as if she had touched a live wire, immediately releasing her grip on my neck. She looked at the arrogant, cold-faced man in the doorway, and then looked back at me in pure disbelief. “What… what exactly are you?!” No one answered her. The doctors finally came rushing in from behind. As soon as they entered the nursery, one of them gasped, “Isn’t that the pregnant woman from bed number eight?” “Why is the patient from bed eight in here??!” A nurse stepped forward to tell her to go back and rest, but the bodyguards immediately blocked her path. Dominic, wearing his untouchable, icy expression, finally spoke: “You’re Eleanor, right? You are suspected of aggravated assault and attempted murder of an infant. I’m afraid I’m going to have to invite you to have a chat at the police station.” My biological mother, who had controlled my entire existence in my past life, was now so terrified her face was completely bloodless. She screamed in disbelief, “How could this little bastard have anything to do with you?! I don’t believe it! You’re lying to me!” “Who are you calling a bastard? That is my daughter.” Laying in the warm bassinet, I looked straight at her with eyes filled with pure hatred. Surprise, Mom. I’m back. I brought my memories from my past life, and this time, I am a debt collector. I’m here to collect what you owe me. Eleanor shuddered violently. She suddenly lunged forward and grabbed my neck again. “I don’t care! Even if I die here today, I’m going to kill you!” “You reincarnated just to seduce my husband again, didn’t you?!” “You’re still alive in this life, so you’re still planning to do it, aren’t you?!” “I’ll strangle you, you little slut!” I started feeling oxygen deprivation again. Just as I suspected, Dominic’s bodyguards were hesitant to use force on a postpartum woman for fear of liability. “Mr. Vance, what about the little miss?!” Dominic’s brow furrowed deeply, his eyes locked onto me in Eleanor’s grip. Suddenly, a mocking smirk appeared on his face. “Eleanor, if I call your husband right now and show him what you look like at this exact moment… do you think he’ll be so disgusted he won’t be able to eat for three days?” “Have you not looked in a mirror to see the monstrous, pathetic state you’ve tortured yourself into?” Eleanor’s face drained of all color at his words. Seeing him actually pull out his phone to call her husband, she dropped to her knees in an instant. “Please! I’m begging you, please don’t call my husband! If he sees me like this, he’ll definitely go out and find another woman!” “Please, just let me go this one time…” The police finally arrived. Amidst the flashing red and blue lights of the cruisers, Eleanor was shoved into the back of a squad car. Safe in a man’s broad, warm chest, I fell into a deep sleep. I was just too exhausted and in too much pain. The physical limitations of a newborn body made it impossible for me to stay awake for long; it was an irresistible force dragging me into the abyss of unconsciousness. Dominic forced his eyes open just long enough to see me fall asleep. He handed my soft swaddle to a nearby bodyguard and muttered weakly, “Get my daughter the absolute best private neonatal care team…” My domineering, arrogant father, after delivering that weak command, finally rolled his eyes back and passed out.

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I had been arranged to marry Liam, the heir to New York’s wealthiest real estate dynasty, since we were kids. Because of this status, I controlled almost every aspect of his life growing up. Whenever I got too strict, Liam would always spit out the same vicious threat: “Chloe, just you wait. Sooner or later, I’m going to break off this damn engagement.” Later, I accidentally discovered I was switched at birth and was actually a fake heiress. I decided it was time to lay low. I stopped asking about his life. I stopped forcing him to fulfill his “fiancé duties.” After noticing I hadn’t nagged him for over two weeks, Liam’s frat-bro friends threw him a massive “Freedom Party” to celebrate. I never expected Liam to completely lose his mind on the spot. “Mind your own business! All of you, mind your own fucking business!” “Are you happy now?! She actually found someone else!” 1 “Chloe, Liam is out messing around with Carter and that crowd again.” The bass in the nightclub was deafening. When my best friend, Harper, leaned in to tattle on Liam, I was completely distracted. I took her phone. In the video, Liam was wearing a flashy burgundy silk shirt, leaning lazily against a sports car, a lit cigarette pinched between his fingers. He was surrounded by a group of trust-fund playboys, each with a gorgeous woman hanging off their arm. I watched the clip calmly and handed the phone back to Harper. “It’s fine. Let him do whatever.” “What’s wrong with you?” Harper pressed the back of her hand against my forehead. “You don’t have a fever.” “Are you an imposter? Who are you and what have you done with Chloe?” “Harper.” I shot her a look. “Do I need to bring up the time you peed your pants in first grade to prove my identity?” With that, I grabbed my purse and walked out. Honestly, I couldn’t blame Harper for overreacting. Ever since I was eight years old and got engaged to Liam, I had kept him on an incredibly tight leash. Before, I had the right to control him. Now… I wasn’t so sure. Because very soon, I wouldn’t be Liam’s fiancée anymore. 2 Just three days ago, I accidentally found out I wasn’t my parents’ biological daughter. I was switched at birth. It wouldn’t be long before the real heiress of the Sterling family was brought back. The fate of a fake heiress like me was entirely predictable. Over the years, riding high on my status as the Sterling family heiress and the future Mrs. Vance, I had offended quite a few people. Half of Manhattan’s elite circle was waiting to watch me fall from grace. Especially Liam. Since the day our engagement was set, I used his grandfather’s backing to control him. When he turned eighteen, I laid down three absolute rules: Rule 1: No smoking, no heavy drinking, no fighting, and no hanging out with garbage friends. Rule 2: No staying out all night. You must be home before midnight. Rule 3: You must fulfill your physical duties as my fiancé. We sleep together at least three times a week. Whenever I enforced these rules, Liam would glare at me and spit: “Chloe, just you wait. Sooner or later, I’m going to break off this damn engagement.” I never took his threats seriously. But things were different now. In high-society marriages, equal social standing is everything. No matter how much Liam’s grandfather liked me, he would never let his grandson marry a woman with zero social capital to offer the family business. This engagement was doomed. If I didn’t want Liam to completely destroy me once my fake identity was exposed… I needed to cut my losses immediately and stop interfering in his life. 3 I didn’t go looking for Liam. I just went straight home. But the moment I walked through the door, Liam arrived right behind me. Hearing the noise in the foyer, I instinctively looked up. Our eyes met. Liam looked slightly guilty and tried to look away, but then forcibly locked eyes with me. He raised his chin, intentionally raising his voice: “That’s right, Chloe. Not only did I hang out with Carter and the guys today, but I also drank and smoked.” I didn’t argue with him like I usually would. I just gave a soft “Okay,” stood up, and headed for my bedroom. “Chloe—” Liam closed the distance in three strides and grabbed my wrist. His dark eyes stared intensely into mine, his tone carrying a trace of hidden anxiety: “Listen to me. I said I smoked and drank today.” “I know.” I looked at him calmly. “You don’t need to report to me. As long as you’re happy.” “Alright, Chloe.” The corner of his mouth quirked up, sounding incredibly certain. “I know you’re still mad.” “It was my fault for not going to the gala with you last time.” “You haven’t spoken to me in three days.” “No, I wasn’t…” Before I could finish, Liam cut me off: “You can be on top tonight. I won’t complain.” Saying that, Liam started unbuttoning his shirt. He had an incredible body. Broad shoulders, narrow waist, and solid eight-pack abs. He looked amazing. I had ridden those abs more times than I could count. He grabbed my hand and pressed it flat against his stomach. Then, he arrogantly turned his face away, though the tips of his ears slowly turned pink. “Consider it a favor. You can touch whatever you want tonight.” I glanced at the calendar and realized today was one of our scheduled “duty” days. Usually, I had to remind him. But tonight, Liam was being terrifyingly proactive. “Liam, I’m not in the mood tonight.” I dropped that sentence and practically sprinted back to my room. 4 When I woke up at noon the next day, Liam surprisingly hadn’t left the house. He was sprawling lazily on the living room sofa, casually scrolling through his phone. Seeing me walk out of the bedroom, he put his phone away, let out a low cough, and said casually: “Chloe, didn’t you complain that your closet was getting boring? I have some free time today. I can take you shopping.” “No thanks, I have plans with Harper.” I rejected him without a second thought. “Seriously, Chloe, how long are you going to stay mad?” Liam marched over, grabbed my wrist, and furrowed his brow. He pressed his lips together, sounding impatient: “I’m literally giving you an out right now. Are you planning to tattle on me to my grandfather again?” So that was why he was acting so weird today. I couldn’t really blame him; I used to do that all the time. “Relax, relax.” I quickly waved my free hand to deny it. “I won’t. I admit I used to be way too controlling.” “The three rules I made? They’re all void. From now on, you can do whatever you want. I won’t interfere in your life anymore.” “I swear.” Afraid he wouldn’t believe me, I raised three fingers like a scout. “I promise.” “Chloe, you…” Liam stared at me in disbelief. A watery, red sheen began to pool in his eyes. His eyes grew redder, his chest rising and falling heavily. Finally, he coldly turned his face away, his voice hard as rock: “Fine. Whatever.” Immediately after, the front door slammed shut with a massive BANG. What the hell?! What was he so mad about? I met Harper at a cafe. I told her the truth about my identity. Harper sat there stunned for a long time before she could process it. “So you think you and Liam are going to call off the engagement, which is why you stopped keeping him on a leash?” “But have you ever thought that maybe Liam actually cares about you? He wouldn’t just break off the engagement that easily.” “Liam doesn’t like me.” I pulled a bitter smile, mocking myself: “Just last week, he said it himself.” “I didn’t realize until then just how much he despised being engaged to me.” 5 After being with Liam for so many years, saying I had no feelings for him would be a lie. The night I accidentally found out I was a fake heiress, I desperately wanted to find Liam, sleep with him, and vent my emotions. But standing outside his VIP room at the club, I overheard his conversation with his friends: “Liam, are you seriously going to let Chloe control you for the rest of your life?” “Everyone says you’re totally whipped, completely controlled by a woman.” “You haven’t actually fallen for her, have you?” “Impossible!” Liam declared with absolute certainty. “I could fall for anyone in the world, but not her.” “Chloe is just pale with big eyes, she is absolutely not my type.” “If my grandfather hadn’t forced this engagement down my throat, I never would have bowed down to her.” Standing outside the door, an unspeakable mix of emotions crashed over me. The tiny sliver of fantasy I had harbored about Liam shattered instantly. I quietly left the club and walked alone for a very long time in the dark. “He said it himself.” I looked at Harper, pursing my lips. “He can’t wait to get rid of me.” Harper opened her mouth, looking at me like she wanted to say something, but ultimately stayed silent. I told her my concerns. I have always cared deeply about my pride. Once the news broke that I was a fake heiress and the Vance family dumped me, the entire elite circle would laugh me out of town. So I planned to initiate the breakup myself, before the real heiress was officially brought back. 6 Without me managing him, Liam didn’t come home for the next few days. Normally, if he wasn’t home by midnight, I would either blow up his phone or personally hunt him down. One night, just as I was getting ready for bed, one of Liam’s lackeys sent me a video. [Boss lady, Liam insisted on hiring some ‘conversation companions’ tonight. Do you want to come handle this?] I clicked on the video. Liam was slouching lazily on a club sofa, a very innocent-looking girl standing nervously in front of him. My chest tightened. It seemed he had taken my “do whatever you want” speech to heart very quickly. [Okay, noted.] I closed the app, but another video immediately came through. Liam had his arm around the innocent girl and shoved a black Amex card into her chest: “My fiancée doesn’t care about me anymore. Use whatever tricks you’ve got.” My eyes burned. I immediately blocked the lackey’s number. Before officially breaking off the engagement, I needed to move out of Liam’s penthouse. This place was originally bought by the Vance family as our future marital home. Since we were breaking up, I had no reason to stay. After looking at apartments for a few days, I found one I liked and went to sign the lease today. Stepping out of the elevator, I unexpectedly ran into Ethan, an older guy from my college days. We were chatting and laughing as we walked out of the building. But right at the exit, I ran into a very familiar figure. Liam was staring dead at me and Ethan. His eyes were a chaotic storm of absolute disbelief, rage, and insecurity. His gaze locked onto my face. His eyes were inexplicably red, and he asked through gritted teeth: “Chloe, who is he? Don’t forget, you have a fiancé.” “Not for much longer,” I murmured very quietly. Liam’s pupils contracted violently. He charged forward and grabbed my shoulders, his fingers digging in so hard his knuckles turned white. He was breathing heavily, a watery, furious sheen building in his eyes: “Chloe, are you fucking telling me you’re dumping me for this guy?!” I opened my mouth to say something, but Liam grabbed my arm and violently yanked me into his car. He crashed his lips onto mine, then bit down hard on my earlobe: “Chloe, we are childhood sweethearts! What the hell is he compared to me?!” “Get off!” I shoved hard against his chest, but his kisses just trailed down to my collarbone. “Chloe, you’re telling me to get off?” Liam slid his hand up my thigh, kissed me aggressively, and threatened: “If you dare get out of this car, I will kiss you right in front of him.” … That night, Liam walked around half-naked, showing off his eight-pack. “Chloe, inspect the goods.” He grabbed my hand, pressed it against his abs, and desperately explained: “I didn’t touch anyone that night. When you blocked my guy, I drove straight home.” “Chloe, you obviously still care about me.” Hearing this, my heart softened slightly. Deep down, Liam actually did care about me, didn’t he? I pushed him away slightly, ordering: “You still smell like alcohol. Go take another shower.” Liam looked like he wanted to talk back, but obediently walked into the bathroom. 7 While Liam was in the shower, his iPad on the sofa lit up. I opened it. It was messages from his group chat with the guys: [Liam, we looked into him. That guy is an upperclassman from Chloe’s college.] [If you care this much about that guy, you must actually be in love with Chloe, right?] Liam: [Who the hell likes Chloe? I’m just pissed off that she shifted her attention to someone else.] [I don’t want a woman who jumps from bed to bed.] [Once I train Chloe properly and make her fall completely in love with me, I’m going to dump her!] So his anger today was completely faked. Behind my back, he was planning this. I let out a bitter, self-deprecating laugh. While I was lost in thought, a freshly showered Liam pressed himself against my back. His breath was scorching hot. His kisses trailed down my neck, his voice raspy: “Chloe, we haven’t done it in a long time.” I raised my hand, shoved him away, and said coldly: “Liam, don’t touch me. I don’t want to!” Liam cursed under his breath, frowning deeply: “Chloe, you won’t let me touch you? Are you saving yourself for Ethan now?!” Remembering the messages in his group chat, I suddenly didn’t want to explain anything. This engagement was going to end anyway. At least this way, I looked like the winner. I wouldn’t look so pathetic. I pursed my lips: “Yes. From now on, I won’t interfere in your business.” “And don’t interfere in mine. We can both do whatever we want.” “I refuse!” Liam’s eyes were completely bloodshot. “Chloe, you either cut him off completely, or we call off the engagement.” “Fine.” I followed his lead. “Then I’ll arrange a meeting between our families tomorrow.” Having said that, I fought back my tears and slammed the door as I walked out.

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When I found out, yet again, that the IVF baby growing in my womb was actually created from my husband’s sperm and his mistress’s egg. I didn’t throw a violent, hysterical fit and destroy the pregnancy like the previous times. Instead, I chose to play the obedient wife. I nurtured the baby and gave birth to him. Since then, I became the biggest joke in the entire upper-class social circuit, single-handedly keeping hundreds of gossip blogs in business. Every cheating billionaire wished they had a wife as “magnanimous” and “forgiving” as me. Every mistress in our social circle prayed they could seduce a husband like mine. As for the other elite wives, they looked at me like I was a pathetic, spineless disgrace to womanhood. Until the tenth month, when I safely delivered the baby boy. The moment I was wheeled out of the delivery room, Arthur kissed my forehead as gently as he always did. “Chloe is terrified of pain, and you can’t conceive anyway. It’s perfect that you could carry the child for us.” “Don’t worry, she only wants to be a mother. She won’t threaten your position as Mrs. Vance. You are still the only woman I truly love.” Everyone said I loved Arthur Vance to the point of madness. They said that because I couldn’t beat the mistress, my only choice was to join them. But only I knew the truth. I was forced to carry this child by the Vance family matriarch, calling in a life debt I owed her from years ago. Now that the eldest Vance grandson was born. The divorce agreement she promised me would finally go into effect. As the local anesthesia wore off, the throbbing pain from the C-section incision woke me from my stupor. Opening my eyes, I saw Arthur holding the baby, his face beaming with absolute joy. “Honey, Grandma has already picked out a name for our baby. All you have to do is sign this, and we can register his birth certificate.” He handed me the paperwork. Seeing the name Arthur Vance II written on the line, my groggy brain instantly snapped awake. Arthur Vance II. The Second. Carrying on the legacy. That was the beautiful hope I had for my own unborn son. It was the expectation we once had for our love. And more importantly, it was the traditional naming convention reserved exclusively for the eldest son of the 13th generation in the Vance family tree. Years ago, to save Arthur from kidnappers, I took a knife to the abdomen for him. It severely damaged my reproductive organs, making it nearly impossible for me to conceive. Later, during our first successful IVF pregnancy, I walked in on him sleeping with my illegitimate half-sister, Chloe, in our marital bed. In the ensuing chaos, he shoved me. I hemorrhaged and was forced to have a late-term abortion. It was a fully formed baby boy. After recovering from the miscarriage, I wanted to set up a small memorial for him and bury him in the family plot. But the family’s spiritual advisor said the child had died prematurely, so the timing was bad, and we had to wait. I waited for over a year. Throughout this current pregnancy, Arthur whispered in my ear countless times, asking if we could give the name “Arthur II” to this bastard child. I never agreed. But now, looking at his expectant eyes, the memory of him crying and begging for my forgiveness back then just made me feel sick. I knew Grandma didn’t pick that name. Chloe just loved stealing everything that was mine. She must have whispered it into Arthur’s ear. Whatever. The divorce was already set in stone. The last name of a sociopathic father wasn’t worth fighting over. “Whatever. Call him whatever you want.” “I only have one condition. Do not list me as the mother on the birth certificate. My real son in heaven wouldn’t like it.” Arthur froze, a flash of guilt crossing his eyes. “Evelyn, please don’t worry. I only used her because she shares half your bloodline. Me and her…” Before he could finish, a loud crash echoed from the hallway. “You little bitch, who told you you could show your face here?!” Chloe was knocked to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. “I just wanted to come see the baby.” Grandma Vance was relentlessly striking her with her heavy wooden cane. “Get out!” In that instant, Arthur reacted like a startled bird. He didn’t even have time to hand the baby to the nurse. He practically tossed the newborn onto my chest and sprinted out the door. The weight of the baby pressed directly onto my freshly sutured incision. A piercing agony shot through me, and I cried out in pain. But he acted like he couldn’t hear me and kept running. He threw himself in front of the old woman’s cane without hesitation, shielding Chloe tightly behind his back. The way he aggressively protected her made his comforting words from a minute ago seem like an absolute joke. “Grandma! It was my idea! I did it for the Vance family! Stop hurting innocent people!” Grandma Vance froze for a second, instinctively looking past him into my room. Seeing the stark white hospital bedsheets rapidly turning crimson with my blood, she slammed her cane hard against Arthur’s back. “You animal! Her incision hasn’t healed, how could you just drop the baby on her?!” Arthur’s eyes filled with sudden panic and regret. He was about to rush back into the room to check on me. But behind him, Chloe suddenly went limp and collapsed. Panicking, he scooped her up into his arms, ready to carry her away. Grandma Vance blocked his path with her body. “Don’t you dare leave! Your wife is bleeding out in there! Do you still want a family or not?!” Arthur’s eyes were torn with hesitation. “I do! But she got hurt because you hit her! I can’t just leave her! Evelyn… she has you here, she’ll be fine!” Once upon a time, he used to shield me from every storm just like that. Once upon a time, I was never the option he chose to abandon. Fighting through the blinding pain, I looked at him with dead eyes. “Grandma. Let him go.” He seemed shocked that I was being so magnanimous. After all, in the past, to stop him from leaving, I had thrown tantrums, screamed, cried on the floor, and discarded every last shred of my dignity. He gave me a complex look, opening his mouth as if to say something, but ultimately turned and strode quickly down the hall. The nurses and postpartum care specialists rushed in to re-stitch and treat my wound. The baby was rocked to sleep. My phone suddenly buzzed with a text from him. [I forgot about your incision, I’m sorry. I just didn’t want a scene at the hospital, it would look bad for the Vance family’s reputation.] [Chloe passed out, she needs someone with her, so I won’t come back tonight. Get some rest.] I stared at the screen for a long time. I remembered a time when I got slightly injured while traveling out of state. He took an eleven-hour flight, canceled all his multi-million dollar meetings, just to accompany me to a basic checkup, refusing to leave my side for a single second. Seeing me sigh, Grandma snatched the phone from my hand. Looking at his cold, dismissive words, she let out a harsh scoff. “That ungrateful bastard! When he gets back, I’ll teach him a lesson. Don’t worry, Evelyn, Grandma will…” Hearing this, I suddenly laughed. I looked at her with perfectly calm eyes. “You tacitly approved of all of this, didn’t you?” “I don’t care what he does anymore. You promised me before that once I delivered this child, you would help me get a divorce. I expect you to keep your word.” Her expression froze, a heavy, thick guilt filling her old eyes. “It’s Grandma who wronged you.” “I’ve already tricked him into signing the divorce papers. Rest here in the postpartum center for the next thirty days, and then you can leave.” Grandma took the baby with her, hiring a private team of nannies to care for him. I stayed at the luxury postpartum center under the guise of “recovering,” completely isolating myself from the outside gossip. But that night, the scandal still spread like wildfire through the elite circles. The heir to the Vance empire flew into a rage for his mistress, abandoning his wife who just gave birth, defying the family matriarch to protect his sister-in-law. Vance Group’s stock plummeted for days. Arthur was drowning in corporate fires. Chloe’s “relationship advice” influencer accounts were besieged by furious netizens. The old scandal—where I had personally exposed her for seducing her brother-in-law, only for Arthur to forcefully suppress it—was dug back up. She was universally despised across all platforms. If Arthur hadn’t intervened with his legal team, her accounts would have been deleted, and she would have faced millions in breach-of-contract penalties from her sponsors. I didn’t see him again until seven days later. The first thing he did when he walked in was look at me with profound disappointment. “Evelyn. Are you happy now, getting your revenge on us like this?” I paused for a second before realizing he was blaming me for spreading the gossip to the press. It made sense. I used to work in PR and media; manipulating the narrative was my specialty. Unfortunately, the first time I went crazy and leaked the truth about him and Chloe, he threatened my agency, claiming I was violating NDA and committing defamation, and forced them to fire me. It wouldn’t be easy for me to find people to help me pull a stunt like this now. I gave him a sidelong glance, having long since lost the urge to feel wronged by his false accusations. I continued putting together the memorial gifts for Arthur II’s upcoming anniversary. “You should know that the scandals you two are involved in aren’t just the ones the public knows about. If I actually wanted to expose you, you’d be bleeding a lot more cash than this.” He stood frozen in the doorway for a long time. When he spoke, his voice sounded almost helpless. “After this blows over, I’ll cut ties with her. But you have to promise me, we’re going to live a good life together from now on, okay? We have a child now. We’re going to be a happy family.” He said exactly the same thing to me almost every single day when I was pregnant. But it never stopped him from continuing to tangle with Chloe behind my back. One day he pitied her for being an illegitimate child, the next day he felt bad because she had no family to rely on. In short, he had a million excuses for why he “couldn’t control himself” around her and why he had to ensure her life was perfectly comfortable. He stood in the doorway, refusing to leave, as if he would stay planted there until I answered. Looking at his shadow blocking the sunlight, I gave a dismissive, non-committal hum. It wasn’t until the next morning, when a fake “sex tape” supposedly showing me having an affair went viral across the entire internet, that I realized what he meant by “after this blows over.” Arthur released a public clarification video. In the video, he told the media with a heartbroken expression that Chloe had discovered I was cheating on him during my pregnancy. To protect my own image, I maliciously spread false rumors about him to destroy him. Chloe, crying beautifully on camera, claimed she only tried to advise me not to hurt Arthur’s feelings, but I assumed she was going to expose my affair and decided to destroy her in revenge. The entire internet demanded that Arthur immediately divorce a “disgusting slut” like me. But he put on the performance of a deeply devoted martyr. “No matter what mistakes Evelyn makes in this life, I cannot stop loving her.” Watching his sickeningly hypocritical performance, I couldn’t hold it in and vomited into the trash can. Hearing me retch, Arthur, who was standing outside my suite, rushed in. “What’s wrong?” I frowned, looking at Chloe trailing right behind him, and shoved his hand away. “Nothing. Just realized how disgusting you are. To cover up your mistress’s sins, you’re willing to completely destroy your own wife’s reputation at any cost. Arthur Vance, your love is truly spectacular.” His face turned chalk-white. He opened his mouth to explain. But Chloe suddenly dropped to her knees, crying like a fragile, broken doll. “I’m sorry, sister, it’s all my fault! Arthur only used you as a shield to protect me.” Arthur’s heart instantly ached for her. He glared at me reproachfully. “I came here specifically to talk to you about this. That video was completely AI-generated. At the end of the day, she’s your sister. Sacrificing yourself a little to help her is what family does. I’m helping her because I want to maintain your family bonds! Why do you always have to be so aggressive toward her?” “Besides, you’re a stay-at-home housewife. Public reputation doesn’t matter to you. What outsiders say won’t change my feelings for you. As long as I know it’s fake, that’s enough. But she’s different. She has no one to rely on, and her entire career is built on social media. If her image is destroyed, her life is over.” Listening to his high-sounding, self-righteous defense, I felt nothing but pure nausea. A stay-at-home housewife? I’m only in this position because of you! Back then, he didn’t just force my company to fire me. He blacklisted me across the entire media industry, declaring that anyone who hired me was declaring war on the Vance Group. I faced endless rejections. When I finally found a job at a small, independent PR boutique, he maliciously reported us to regulatory boards until we were shut down. Eventually, my professional licenses were revoked, and I became an untouchable pariah in the industry. I was too lazy to argue with him. My postpartum doula told me I needed to keep my mood elevated during my recovery month. Anyway, in half a month, I would be completely free. Grandma had promised me that when the time came, she would clear my name and prove my innocence. What these two thought of me didn’t matter anymore. I looked at him with a deadpan expression, let out a long exhale, and rolled over, pulling the covers up. “Whatever you say. Do what you want.” He thought I was going to jump up and attack Chloe like I used to. He was so tense he was practically shielding her with his entire body. But seeing me just turn my back and lie down, all his defensive posturing abruptly halted. After a long pause, he asked in a tone of pure disbelief. “You… you aren’t mad?” My voice was entirely flat. “Isn’t this what you always wanted? For me to get along with her?” He let out a massive sigh of relief and chuckled. “You’ve finally learned to behave. I knew you weren’t that heartless. I’ll definitely make it up to you in the future.” I didn’t reply. I didn’t even glance at him until they walked out the door. After a long silence, I placed a hand over my chest. It was beating steadily. No racing, no pain. So this is what letting go feels like. For the next few days, perhaps driven by guilt, he visited me frequently. Even when I gave him the cold shoulder or completely ignored him, he didn’t get angry. He just kept rambling on about the beautiful life we would have together. It wasn’t until he brought up the “One-Month Celebration Banquet” for the baby that he finally spoke with hesitation. “Chloe will never be able to publicly claim her biological child in this lifetime. So, I was thinking… before the baby is old enough to understand, I want to let her attend the banquet openly as the mother.” “It would give her some closure. What do you think?” My hands didn’t stop knitting the tiny sweater I was working on. I didn’t even raise my eyes. “I already told you, do whatever you want. This isn’t my child. Whatever you decide has absolutely nothing to do with me.” He choked on his words. A mix of redness and faint anger flashed in his eyes. He reached over and snatched the memorial items I was preparing for Arthur II out of my hands. “Why are you acting like this lately?! Do you even know what her attending as the mother means?! It means publicly acknowledging her as the Lady of the Vance family! You used to fight me to the death over this!” I paused, looking at him with utter boredom. “Isn’t that a good thing? Just two months ago, when you guys were sleeping together, weren’t you crying about how tragic it was that you couldn’t give her a legitimate title in this lifetime?” He froze, standing there completely paralyzed, his face turning as white as a marble statue. I took my items back, my emotional state so incredibly stable it was as if nothing had happened. His desperate, rambling explanations—claiming he didn’t actually love her, that he was just drugged and took her virginity, so he felt obligated to take responsibility for her—were completely defeated by my absolute, suffocating silence. After that day, he didn’t visit me again. But I frequently saw Chloe posting on Instagram. They took the baby and shot dozens of different “Happy Family” studio portraits. On the day I was discharged from the postpartum center, the entire Vance family was throwing a massive banquet for the bastard child. Grandma told me the final divorce decree would be processed by tomorrow. I went back to the penthouse to pack my things. The warm, cozy marital home we had designed together had been completely remodeled into a style Chloe liked. Even the beautiful maternity portrait of him holding my pregnant belly, which used to sit next to the TV, had been replaced by a massive family portrait of him, Chloe, and the baby. In the photo, Arthur was smiling radiantly. It was an even happier smile than the day he successfully proposed to me. I walked into the master bedroom, planning to pack some of the clothes I owned before we got married. But after tearing through the entire walk-in closet, I couldn’t find the hand-embroidered, pure silk cheongsam my mother had made for me before she died. I was just about to call the staff to ask about it, when I saw a photo on Instagram. It was Chloe, wearing my mother’s cheongsam at the banquet.

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My mom showed up at my door, panicked. My uncle had taken a bad fall and needed thirty thousand dollars for surgery immediately. I rushed her to the nearest ATM to withdraw the cash. But when I looked at the screen, I was dumbfounded. Insufficient funds. The debit card belonged to an account my wife, Chloe, and I set up when we got married. It was our “emergency reserve fund”—strictly for depositing, never for withdrawing. Every month, the second my paycheck hit, I religiously transferred eight thousand dollars into that account. I had done this without fail for exactly five years. Forget thirty thousand. There should have been over four million dollars in there. But right now, the balance was a pathetic $1.03. I called Chloe a dozen times. Not only did she ignore the calls, but she eventually turned her phone off. I had no choice but to borrow the money from a friend. An hour later, she finally texted me back. “Ethan, I was looking at houses with Liam earlier. It was too loud, so I didn’t answer.” “Did you need something?” 1 I swallowed my rising panic and anger, making up a random excuse to brush off her question. Then, I casually asked where she and Liam were looking at houses. She replied: Riverfront Estates. It was a luxury development, averaging over three million dollars a unit. We had gone to see the model homes when they first opened last year. I even wanted to put a down payment on one, but she refused. I didn’t say anything else and ended the conversation. At seven o’clock that evening, Chloe finally walked through the door. A faint scent of men’s cologne drifted into my nose. It was the woody, cedar scent Liam—her childhood best friend—always wore. Our one-year-old son, Leo, was sitting in his high chair, babbling and playing with a spoon. I fed him a bite of steamed egg, looking up at my wife as she took off her coat. “How was house hunting with Liam today?” She paused for a fraction of a second, her face shifting into its usual warm, gentle smile. “It was fine. Liam thinks the layouts at Riverfront Estates are great. Good views, and the price is fair.” “That’s not what you said when we looked at them,” I said, looking down and stirring the soup in my bowl. “You said it was too far from the city center, the amenities weren’t built yet, and it wasn’t worth the price tag.” “That was then. The area has developed a lot since last year. I heard the subway extension is opening next year.” She sat down, picked up a piece of broccoli with her chopsticks, and naturally changed the subject. “By the way, why were you calling me so frantically this afternoon? I couldn’t hear you clearly.” “It was nothing. Just a minor issue with my mom’s side of the family. It’s already handled.” She gave a soft “Oh,” and didn’t press further. Leo started slapping the table with his little hands, demanding water. Chloe got up to grab his sippy cup, coaxing him in a soft, sweet voice. I watched her back. Her long hair was pinned up loosely, and her cream-colored loungewear made her silhouette look incredibly gentle. We dated for three years and had been married for five. After eight years, I thought I knew the woman sleeping next to me inside and out. Until this afternoon. That glaring balance on the ATM screen felt like a brutal slap across my face. “By the way,” I put my chopsticks down, speaking as if the thought had just crossed my mind. “I’m thinking about trading in the old Volkswagen. I’ve got my eye on a new BMW, it’s around sixty thousand. What do you think?” Chloe’s hand, holding the sippy cup, stopped moving. She turned her head, her brow slightly furrowed. “Why do you suddenly want a new car? You’ve only had that one for eight years.” “It’s getting old, and the space is tight. When we take the kid camping, we can’t fit all the gear.” “But sixty thousand is so expensive…” She set the cup down and sat back in her chair. “If you buy a new car, won’t that put too much financial pressure on us?” “Our monthly living expenses are already pretty high.” “A car is a depreciating asset. The moment you drive it off the lot, it loses value.” “Plus, you’ve kept that Volkswagen in great condition. It can easily run for another few years. There’s no need to buy a luxury car just to show off…” She listed her reasons one by one. Her logic was clear, her tone earnest and sincere. The perfect picture of a frugal, forward-thinking wife putting her family first. Over the past five years, I had heard these exact words countless times. I had always felt grateful—even guilty—for having a wife so practical and devoted to our family’s future. But hearing them now felt like fine needles being driven relentlessly into my heart. I stayed silent, offering no rebuttal, and just kept eating. After washing the dishes, Leo was getting sleepy, rubbing his eyes while leaning against Chloe. “I’m going to give him a bath and put him to bed.” She picked up our son and walked toward the bathroom. On the coffee table, the screen of her phone was still lit up. I walked over, picked it up, and quickly opened her banking app, pulling up the transaction history. Row after row of transfers filled the screen. 2 The recipient’s full name was partially asterisked out, but the last four digits of the account number were crystal clear. It was the exact same account every time. The frequency of the transfers was staggering. Multiple transactions a month. Some were for thirty or fifty thousand. Some were over a hundred thousand. The largest single transfer? Five hundred thousand dollars. It happened today. Holding my breath, I scrolled all the way to the bottom to find the very first record. March 15th of this year. A transfer for fifty thousand dollars. Liam had posted a photo of himself at the airport on Facebook, announcing his return from Europe. The date on the post was March 14th. Late that night, I lay in bed, completely unable to sleep. Beside me, Chloe’s breathing was steady. She was fast asleep. I stared at her quietly, feeling a bone-chilling unfamiliarity toward the face next to me. Five years ago, on a night just like this. We had just gotten our marriage license. She brought up the idea of a reserve fund with utter seriousness. “Ethan, we need to plan for our future.” “We’re going to have kids, and our parents are going to get older.” “This money is strictly for saving, never for spending. It will be our safety net.” I was so moved back then. I thought I had found the perfect partner. For the next five years, the moment I got paid, I transferred eight thousand dollars into that account, leaving myself with barely enough to survive on. To save money, I quit smoking cold turkey after a decade. I declined every social invitation that cost money. I wore my clothes and shoes until they were practically falling apart. Whenever my coworkers showed off their new cars or watches, I just smiled. In my mind, I thought about the steadily growing number in that bank account, and I felt it was all worth it. That was my investment in our future. My commitment to our family. I never in my wildest nightmares imagined this would be the result. Five years. Sixty months. Four hundred and eighty thousand dollars. Turned into $1.03. Suddenly, a flood of memories from the past few years rushed into my mind. Chloe was always so supportive of my frugality. When I wanted to take her out for a nice dinner, she said cooking at home was healthier. When I wanted to buy her a nice winter coat, she said it was a waste of money. Back then, I just thought she was sensible and good at managing a household. Now I understood. It was all a performance to make me more willing to dump money into that account. And what about her? Her skincare products were always high-end luxury brands. Her clothes looked simple, but the fabric and tailoring screamed expensive. I used to think her parents occasionally subsidized her, or that she bought them with her own meager salary. Looking back, I was certain my four hundred and eighty thousand had heavily subsidized her pristine, elegant lifestyle. The most pathetic part? I had actually felt guilty about it. I felt guilty that she married me and didn’t get to live a luxurious life. I felt I was holding her back. I walked out to the balcony, leaned against the railing, and lit a cigarette. My first cigarette in five years. The next day was Saturday. When Chloe woke up, I had already made breakfast. “Why are you up so early today?” She looked a bit surprised, rubbing her eyes. “Couldn’t sleep.” I placed fried eggs and milk on the table. “Leo isn’t awake yet, let him sleep a bit longer.” She sat down, took a bite of toast, and started scrolling through the news on her phone, just like any other normal day. Her demeanor was perfectly natural. Not a single trace of guilt. I watched her quietly, then suddenly spoke: “Did Liam get enough money together for his house?” “Why are you asking about that?” She smiled, put her phone down, and took a sip of milk, pretending to be totally unbothered. “Just curious. Riverfront Estates isn’t cheap. He just moved back to the States this year, where did he get that kind of cash?” “His family is helping him out, and he has some savings of his own.” She answered immediately. It sounded rehearsed. “Is that right?” I looked down, cutting my eggs. “I heard the down payment for the smallest unit over there is over a million. His family can really afford that?” Chloe fell silent for a few seconds. “Liam studied abroad, he has a great career. Buying a house isn’t a huge problem for him.” “You eat first, I’m going to go check on Leo.” I watched her retreating back, noticing the slight panic in her hurried steps. My heart sank into a lightless abyss. I picked up my phone and sent a text to a friend: “Hey, you around? I need you to look into something for me.” Five days later was my father-in-law’s birthday. The driveway of the Miller family home was packed with cars. Carrying bags of loose-leaf tea and health supplements, I looked entirely out of place amidst the lively, well-dressed crowd. Every time someone from the Miller family looked at me, there was a faint, unmistakable trace of contempt in their eyes. I grew up in a rural, working-class town. After getting into a good university, I stayed in the city, working my way up the corporate ladder to become a Project Manager. But to this family, the only thing they saw was my background. When I first wanted to marry Chloe, the Millers violently opposed it. Her mother explicitly called me a “country bumpkin” who wasn’t worthy of her daughter. Her father didn’t say much, but his attitude was freezing cold. In the end, it was Chloe who insisted, and since my income was actually quite good, they reluctantly agreed. Five years later, nothing had changed. 3 From the kitchen, Chloe’s mother’s voice rang out: “Chloe, when is Liam getting here? I specifically called him and told him he absolutely had to come today.” “Don’t worry, Mom. He said he’s coming.” Chloe replied. I walked out to the backyard and lit a cigarette. I was already halfway through the pack I bought yesterday. “Hey brother-in-law, why are you out here all alone?” Chloe’s younger brother, Jake, strolled over. His tone was flippant. I told him I was just getting some fresh air. He chuckled and patted my shoulder. “Don’t take it personally, man. Our family is just like that. Honestly, I think you’re doing a pretty good job.” It sounded like comfort, but the dismissive look in his eyes couldn’t be hidden. By 11:30 AM, all the guests had arrived. Two large, round dining tables were set up in the living room. My father-in-law sat at the head of the main table. I was seated at the secondary table, shoved in with some distant relatives. Just as we were about to start eating, the sound of an engine pulled into the driveway. Everyone looked up. A brand new, gleaming black Mercedes parked by the front gate. Liam stepped out of the driver’s seat. He was wearing a sharply tailored suit and holding several high-end gift bags. My mother-in-law’s eyes lit up instantly. She practically sprinted to the door. “Liam! You’re here! Come in, come in!” Chloe stood up from her seat, the corners of her mouth curling up unconsciously. I saw it clearly. Her eyes were shining. Liam politely greeted everyone, handing out expensive gifts. Premium imported liquor for my father-in-law. A designer silk scarf for my mother-in-law. The newest iPhone for Jake. He even brought a massive, incredibly expensive Lego set for my son, Leo. “Liam, you are too kind! You really shouldn’t have!” The family couldn’t stop smiling as they accepted the gifts. In stark contrast, the tea and supplements I had placed in the corner looked pathetic and embarrassing. Liam was seated at the main table, right next to my father-in-law. I sat at the secondary table, watching them laugh and chat from a few chairs away. Chloe sat diagonally across from Liam. They would occasionally make eye contact, then quickly look away. Just like every other family gathering over the past few years. Maintaining the perfect, appropriate distance. That was exactly why I was completely blind to it until today. The feast began. Dish after dish was served, and the table grew loud and festive. I ate in silence, listening to their conversation. “Liam, this car is gorgeous. Brand new?” Chloe’s older cousin suddenly asked. Liam smiled modestly. “Just drove it off the lot. It was only about fifty grand. Nothing special.” “Fifty grand and you say it’s nothing special?” My mother-in-law raised her voice intentionally. “Someone here is still driving a cheap, thirteen-thousand-dollar piece of junk. What has it been, eight, nine years?” “And he still can’t afford to upgrade. Pathetic.” The table went completely quiet for a second. My father-in-law cleared his throat. “Let’s just eat.” But my mother-in-law clearly had no intention of stopping. “If you ask me, a man needs to be capable.” “Look at Liam. He hasn’t even been back in the country for a year, and he’s already bought a car and is looking at houses.” “But some people have absolutely zero ambition.” “I guess this is as good as his life is ever going to get.” Chloe whispered, “Mom, please stop.” “Did I say something wrong?” My mother-in-law shot a glare in my direction. “I didn’t approve of this marriage from day one. He’s from the country, how broad could his horizons possibly be? If you hadn’t been so blindly stubborn about marrying him, I never would have agreed!” Liam smiled, playing the peacemaker. “Mrs. Miller, Ethan actually works very hard.” “What’s the point of working hard? Look at the garbage he bought for us.” She shook her head. “Embarrassing.” The other relatives at the table chimed in, looking at me with thinly veiled contempt. I didn’t say a word. I just kept eating. Liam, probably riding the high of the compliments, brought up his house hunting. “Mrs. Miller, actually, I already put down the deposit for Riverfront Estates. The down payment went through yesterday. I’m just waiting to sign the final paperwork.” Someone asked how much the down payment was. “A hundred and eighty thousand,” Liam answered smugly. “My family helped out a bit, and I used some of my own savings.” My mother-in-law’s eyes sparkled again. “Look at that! That is what you call a successful man!” “Unlike some people, living in a cramped, old apartment, driving a cheap beater, and acting like they’re doing great.” She stared directly at me. “If I had known things would turn out like this, I would have stopped Chloe from marrying you at all costs.” “A bumpkin is a bumpkin. You can’t polish a turd!” Everyone at the tables turned to look at me. Chloe’s face looked terrible. “Mom, I said stop.” 4 My father-in-law finally spoke up again. “Enough. It’s my birthday today. Let’s keep the peace.” I put down my chopsticks. I wiped my mouth with a napkin and stood up. My mother-in-law sneered, “What? Can’t handle a little criticism?” “Are you throwing a tantrum?” I looked at her, then I looked at Chloe. She avoided my eyes, staring down and fidgeting with her napkin. Liam stood up. “Ethan, Mrs. Miller is just blunt. Don’t take it personally.” “I’m not taking it personally.” I looked at my father-in-law. “Dad. Happy birthday.” He nodded, his expression complex. I took a deep breath. My voice wasn’t loud, but it was clear enough for everyone in the room to hear perfectly: “Since we’re all gathered here today, I’d like to make an announcement.” “I’ve made a decision. Chloe and I are getting a divorce.” The words struck the room like a bomb. Everyone froze. After a moment of absolute shock, Chloe jumped out of her chair. “Ethan, have you lost your mind?!” “I haven’t lost my mind.” I looked at her with dead calm eyes. “I am completely serious. I am divorcing you.” “And the reason? Just because my mom criticized you?” “The reason?” I reached into the inner pocket of my jacket, pulled out a thick manila envelope, extracted a stack of printed papers, and tossed them onto the glass lazy Susan in the middle of the main table. “Before we get to that, I want you to answer a question for me. For the past five years, I have religiously deposited eight thousand dollars every single month into our ‘Emergency Reserve’ account. A total of four hundred and eighty thousand dollars. Where is that money now?” The glass tray slowly spun, displaying the printed pages to the Miller family. It was a dense log of banking transactions. Dates, exact amounts, and the last four digits of the receiving account. Chloe froze in place, staring at the stack of papers, her lips pressed into a tight, bloodless line. The Miller family was dead silent, looking at each other in confusion. “You don’t want to say it? Fine, I’ll say it.” I glanced at Liam, who was equally paralyzed, and pulled out my phone, opening the investigation report my friend had sent me. “Starting from March of this year. Not even eight months.” “The funds transferred out of our joint account went to a recipient with account number ending in 8347. The account holder’s name is Liam Vance.” “There are exactly forty-seven transfers. The total amount is four hundred and sixty-eight thousand, seven hundred and thirty dollars.” “March 20th. Five thousand dollars. For Mr. Vance to buy a new wardrobe after moving back from Europe.” “May 7th. Twelve thousand dollars. Mr. Vance’s annual membership fee for an exclusive country club.” “From July to present, two fixed transfers a month totaling thirty thousand dollars. Used to pay off a car loan.” “Oh, right. The loan for that shiny new Mercedes parked out front.” “Last Friday. A single wire of fifty thousand dollars, transferred directly to the developer’s escrow account for Riverfront Estates. The memo line says ‘Deposit’.” “And these… these correspond to charges at several luxury hotels in the city.” “Do I need to read the hotel names and the exact dates you two checked into the rooms?” With every transaction I read, another layer of color drained from Chloe’s face. Liam tried to shrink away from the stares of the room, cold sweat beading on his forehead. The expressions of the Miller family shifted from shock, to confusion, to absolute, humiliating horror. My mother-in-law opened her mouth, seemingly trying to interrupt me, but no sound came out. “Oh, almost forgot.” I put my phone away and looked at Chloe. “That new coat you’re wearing? Bought it last month. Two thousand, eight hundred dollars.” “That limited-edition skincare set on your vanity? Twelve hundred.” “Both paid for using the secondary debit card linked to that account. I pulled the transaction history.” Chloe’s body was trembling visibly. She finally managed to speak, her voice completely dry. “You hired someone to investigate me?” “If I didn’t, how would I have known that the nest egg I spent five years bleeding myself dry to save had become someone else’s personal slush fund? And that it was secretly financing my wife’s luxurious lifestyle… and…” I paused, my gaze slicing toward Liam, “her affair.” “ENOUGH!” Chloe shrieked, interrupting me. Her chest was heaving violently, her face flushed red with panic and rage. “Ethan, you’re just saying all this because you want a divorce, right?!” “Fine! I agree! We’ll divorce!” “We split the assets fifty-fifty, but I get full custody of Leo!” I, the man who had obeyed her every command for five years, laughed. “Fifty-fifty? Keep dreaming.” “My terms are simple. You leave with absolutely nothing.” “And that four hundred and eighty thousand dollars? You will pay me back every single cent.” “You’re out of your fucking mind!” Jake finally lost it. He slammed his hands on the table and stood up, pointing directly at my nose, screaming. “Ethan! Who the hell do you think you are?! What gives you the right to make my sister leave with nothing?!” “Even if she cheated, that money is marital property!” I pulled the final piece of paper out of the envelope and gently placed it on the table. It was the conclusion page of a DNA paternity test. I spoke slowly, my voice dripping with ice. “Because of this.” “Chloe didn’t just commit adultery and drain our accounts. She had another man’s baby.” “I am not Leo’s biological father!”

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When I was ten years old, my parents’ business went bankrupt, and the crushing debt drove them to jump off a building. Faced with vicious debt collectors pounding on our door, my older brother—the one who had abandoned us to become a rich woman’s sugar baby—finally returned. He brought bodyguards, sold the house our parents left behind, paid off the debt collectors, and forcibly dragged me into his car. “From today on, you’re with me. Mom and Dad still owe eighty thousand dollars. When you grow up and start making money, you’re going to pay it back.” I glared at him with pure hatred. “Why did you even come back?! Mom and Dad are dead because of you! Why wasn’t it you who died?!” 1 He went dead silent. I had known since I was little that I had an older brother. He left home when he was 18. He said our family was too poor and couldn’t give him the life he wanted, so he hooked up with a wealthy older woman and became her kept boy. At school, classmates would always ask me, “Hey Cole, is it true your brother is a sugar baby? That is so pathetic!” “Your brother is trash. All the money your family has probably comes from him sleeping around, right?” “My mom said your brother is a whore and told me not to play with you!” I always hated him. I hated him for being shameless and dragging my reputation down with him. I also hated him because if it wasn’t for him, my parents wouldn’t have been so desperate to make money. They took out loans to open a storefront, only for it to fail and ruin them. Now he was back, and he had sold the only thing my parents left behind. After I screamed at him, he looked at me and sneered. “I actually do want to die, but I just won’t!” “Listen to me, you little brat. You want me dead, but I’m going to stay alive! Besides me, absolutely no one wants you. You better behave, or I’ll throw you right back where I found you!” Hearing that, ten-year-old me went pale with fear. Even though I hated him, I knew I had no other choice. Those relatives back home? They all assumed my parents had secretly left me money. After barely speaking to me for two minutes, they were already trying to drag me to the bank. They didn’t care about me at all. But this brother I had never met didn’t seem much better. But I had no choice. He was my legal guardian. I took a train with him to a strange, new city, eventually arriving at a high-rise apartment. This was his place. It was very clean, but there were women’s clothes, shoes, and socks scattered around. My room was on the second floor. It was small, but honestly, it was much nicer than anything I was used to. “You can do whatever you want normally, but when my girlfriend comes over, you stay in your room. Don’t come out and cause trouble for me!” I kept my head down and didn’t speak. My brother’s girlfriend was a middle-aged woman who wore glasses. When she saw me, she gave a faint smile. “So this is little Cole!” I nodded, grabbed a glass of water, and quickly ran upstairs to shut my door. I could tell from her smile that she was keeping her distance. It was just like the teachers at my old school. They would nod and smile at me, but the smile never reached their eyes. It was the look you give a stray dog—a completely expendable little thing. As my mom used to say, “Some people look down on everyone else. We can’t afford to associate with them.” She was one of those people we couldn’t afford to associate with. My brother told me to call her “Ms. Claire.” She ran a local trading company and drove luxury cars. When Ms. Claire visited, she would bring gifts for my brother and snacks for me. But she only ever stayed for a few hours. She never spent the night. I was enrolled in a nearby elementary school. Here, no one knew my brother was a sugar baby. But I was still terrified. I was terrified someone would find out, and I would be mocked again. This routine lasted for two years. I started middle school. During the summer break, I had nowhere to go, so my brother took me to his office. That’s when I found out he actually worked at Ms. Claire’s company. On my very first day, someone casually mentioned that the heavy-set, older guy in the office was Ms. Claire’s husband. In that instant, my blood ran completely cold. I hated my brother. Why did he have to bring me here? Every time I ran into that man, my heart pounded. I was terrified he would scream at me, calling me the brother of the whore who ruined his marriage. Ms. Claire’s husband, who everyone called “Big Mike,” would always wave at me when he saw me. “Hey kid, come help me carry this!” He’d have me carry his bags and then try to hand me cash. I was too terrified to take it. I was afraid he would demand it back later, or worse, scream at me for having no shame. When I refused the money, Big Mike would just ruffle my hair. At the end of the summer, he bought me two new outfits and even personally drove me to school on my first day. When I found out the middle school had dorms, I immediately applied to board there. 2 My brother was not happy about it. “You can live at home. Why do you need to board?” “It’s easier to study. You work overtime and don’t come home on time anyway. I’ll go hungry.” That explanation silenced him, and he eventually agreed. Ms. Claire, however, was annoyed. “Why is he going to a dorm? He should come back and hang out on the weekends!” Before her hand could land on my head, Big Mike slapped it away. Terrified they were going to start a screaming match, I hugged my backpack and sprinted into the school. After that, I went back once a week. My brother kept my room exactly as it was. But gradually, more and more things started piling up in that room. I didn’t think much of it. I only slept there one night a week, and it was his apartment anyway. Until a new transfer student arrived in my class. He was from my old hometown. The moment I saw him, pure panic set in. And, just as I feared, he cornered me. “Cole! It really is you! You and your brother moved here?” “Is your brother still a sugar baby for that rich lady?” After saying it loudly, he dramatically covered his mouth, feigning shock. “Oops! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to! I totally forgot it’s a secret!” All the other kids looked over. In that moment, I felt all the blood rush to my head. The culprit, Tyler, acted completely smug. “Oh, come on Cole, don’t look at me like that! You’re scaring me!” The other kids swarmed around. “Tyler, are you serious? His brother is really a sugar baby?” “Oh my god, I had no idea. No wonder he got dropped off in a luxury car on the first day!” “The brother of a sugar baby is probably going to be a sugar baby too!” I clenched my fists tightly. Tyler kept going: “Hey guys, stop talking about it, or he’s going to have to transfer schools again!” “After all, a sugar baby is basically just a parasite!” I looked up at him. “What about you? Why did you transfer here? You got caught stealing at our old elementary school and the principal made you read a public apology in front of the whole school! Did you transfer here because you couldn’t show your face there anymore?!” Tyler’s face violently contorted. “Cole, you think you’re so great?! Your brother has slept with more than one married woman! And you… you’re probably just some bastard he had with one of his random hookups!” “What the hell are you talking about?!” “Everyone back home says you’re just the little! Bastard! Your brother popped out!” The moment the words left his mouth, I couldn’t hold back anymore. I lunged forward, slapped him across the face, grabbed him by the hair, and beat him like my life depended on it! Eventually, a teacher had to physically rip us apart. “Cole! Tyler! What are you doing?!” “Mr. Davis, he hit me first!” Tyler immediately played the victim. I wiped a smear of blood off my face, my voice ice-cold. “Mr. Davis, he was talking shit!” I glared at Tyler with pure hatred. He stopped wailing, but inevitably, they called our parents. Tyler’s mom showed up. When she saw me, her face twisted in disgust. “Cole! You little bastard, how dare you hit my son?!” “Mom, it hurts so much!” Tyler shrieked. “Mom, kill him! Beat him to death!” Instead of getting angry, I laughed. “You know I don’t have a mom. I only have a brother, and according to you, he’s a whore. So basically, I have absolutely nothing to lose!” Tyler froze. His mom’s face cycled through shades of red and white before she yelled, “I don’t care what your excuse is, you are going to apologize right now!” My brother didn’t show up. Big Mike did. After hearing what happened, Big Mike pointed a thick finger right at Tyler. “If anyone’s apologizing, it’s you first! Who told you to run your mouth?! Calling my little brother a bastard born from a whore, huh?!” “I’m calling the cops right now for defamation! Do you have proof?! Show me the proof! If you don’t have any, I will sue you into the ground!” 3 Tyler’s face turned completely pale, and he was eventually forced to apologize. His mom looked sick to her stomach. She clearly didn’t expect me to have someone like Big Mike backing me up. She shot me a venomous glare, pinched Tyler’s arm hard, and muttered that he was useless! I didn’t say anything, just went back to class. Big Mike patted my shoulder. “Don’t overthink it. Your brother… he’s in a tough spot, but he is absolutely not a bad person.” I stayed silent. Back in class, the way my classmates looked at me had changed, but I didn’t care. Tyler came back and glared at me. I glared right back, raising my voice: “Tyler, if I hear a single rumor about my family in this classroom again, I am calling the cops and having you arrested for spreading slander!” Tyler slammed his fist on his desk but didn’t say a word. I felt incredibly vindicated. Yeah, they all say my brother is a sugar baby, but where’s the proof? Without proof, who dared to talk trash? My ruthlessness, combined with Tyler’s pathetic crying, actually put the other students’ minds at ease. Tyler, on the other hand, was permanently branded with the label of “thief” and could never shake it off. When I went home that weekend, my brother was there. I noticed there were baby clothes and a crib in the apartment. Seeing me, he waved me over. “Come look at this! I bought these for your little nephew. Cute, right?” I clenched my fists. The secret I had violently defended at school for two years had just been casually destroyed by his own hands. I had just threatened Tyler, demanding proof that my brother was a sugar baby. But seeing the baby clothes my brother bought… I felt like an absolute clown. My legs felt like they were made of lead. I finally dragged myself over to him and stared. “Why did you become a sugar baby? Why did you have to have a bastard child with a married woman?!” The moment the question left my mouth, my brother’s lips trembled. For a long time, he couldn’t form a single word. I couldn’t take it anymore. I turned and sprinted out the door. My brother yelled from behind me, “Cole! Get back here!” I screamed like a maniac: “I’m never coming back! I don’t have a brother like you!” I missed my parents. When they were alive, they always told me my brother had excellent grades, but that they were useless and couldn’t provide for him, which forced him to run away. But why did he come back? And fine, he came back, but why did he have to drag me here, forcing me to personally witness his degradation and his sins? It made me sick! I went back to school and never returned to the apartment. My brother found out from my homeroom teacher that I was at school, but he didn’t say anything. He just asked the teacher to transfer my living expenses to me. I wanted to refuse the money out of pride, but I couldn’t. I needed it to survive. It wasn’t until the end of the semester, when I was standing at the school gates with my luggage, that Big Mike showed up again. He pulled me into his car, hesitating several times as if he wanted to say something. I could tell we weren’t taking the route to the apartment. Doing the math, Ms. Claire should be due to give birth any day now. He sighed heavily. “Cole, I’m taking you to see your brother.” I looked up at him, finally asking the question that had been burning inside me. “You don’t hate him? He destroyed your family. He’s a homewrecker.” Big Mike patted my arm. “Silly kid, he’s not a homewrecker. Your brother is the most responsible kid I know. He’s not a sugar baby. You’ll understand when you see him.” I didn’t want to see him. But Big Mike drove me directly to the hospital. My heart sank! Did Ms. Claire have the baby? But Ms. Claire and Big Mike were married. This dynamic was completely messing with my head. When I followed Big Mike into the hospital room, I saw my brother lying in the bed. His stomach was massively swollen, and his face was a sickly, waxy yellow. Seeing that, my brain exploded! Suddenly, everything made sense. 4 “Mike, why did you bring him here?” Seeing me, my brother struggled to sit up. Big Mike rushed over and gently pushed him back down. “I brought him so you two could see each other! So you wouldn’t regret it!” Looking at my brother like this, I didn’t need anyone to explain it to me. He had a terminal illness! There was a guy back in our hometown who looked exactly like this. He eventually died a suffocating, agonizing death. My mom had said it was uremia—end-stage kidney failure. There was no cure. Seeing him like this now, after only a few months of not seeing him, he had wasted away to almost nothing. I slowly walked over. My brother touched my hand. “Haven’t seen you in a few months. You’ve lost weight.” “Cole, I probably won’t make it to see you graduate.” Big Mike cut him off. “Stop talking nonsense! You’re young! Don’t worry about the medical bills!” My head was buzzing. I had no idea he was this sick. I opened my mouth, but for a long time, no words came out. Big Mike nudged me. “Did you go mute? Your brother was so sick but refused to let me tell you. Now that you’re here, if you have something to say, say it!” I finally managed to squeeze out one sentence: “Where is the baby you had with Ms. Claire?” The moment I said it, Big Mike’s eyes went red. My brother just smiled. “He’s already born. He’s in the incubator. Mike will take you to see him in a bit.” I looked at Big Mike, whose eyes were red, feeling completely confused. I stood blankly by the bed and asked another question. “Are you going to die?” Since our parents passed away, he was my only living relative. Even though I didn’t like him, the thought of him leaving me, leaving me completely alone in this world, still terrified me. Hearing me say that, he laughed. “No. But even if I die, it doesn’t matter. I’ve already set up a safety net for you.” “I don’t want it!” I violently yanked my hand away from his. “You never asked me what I wanted! When Mom and Dad died, you dragged me here without asking me. Now you’re dying, and you say you’ve planned out my future, but you never asked me about that either! So I don’t want it.” “You’re right. You don’t want it.” My brother’s voice grew heavy. “That was my oversight. You’re a living, breathing person, of course you have your own thoughts. But Cole, you’re still young.” “I understand everything! Stop lying to me! You became a rich woman’s sugar baby, you had a bastard child with her, and now that you’re sick, Big Mike is somehow forced to take responsibility for you?!” “You crazy kid!” Big Mike stood there, looking shocked. “You didn’t tell him?!” My brother shook his head. “I never got the chance. And I didn’t even know where to begin.” Big Mike sighed. “You sit down and explain it to him properly. I’m going to go check on the baby.” After he left, my brother tried to comfort me. “Mike and Claire are good people. This baby… Mike and I already talked it out. He’s going to sponsor your education.” “Cole, you have to understand something. No matter what happens, even when you’re pushed to the absolute brink, as long as you’re alive, there’s hope. As long as you’re alive, you can start over.” “My life wasn’t a waste. I went out, I hustled, I wanted to build up savings. But I never expected… the money I was saving for your college tuition would all be spent on this illness.” “But I don’t regret it. Because I got out there and saw the world.” Hearing him say that, I didn’t know what to say. My throat felt completely blocked, and my voice came out raspy. He patted my hand. “Go see your little nephew. He’s a really good-looking kid!” Relieved to escape the heavy atmosphere, I practically sprinted out of the room.

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