Author: Momo Chan

My sister was a swan, and I was the ugly duckling. My parents were always comparing us. “Look at your sister, and then look at you.” Even the boy next door, who I’d grown up with, used to say, “Gennifer’s like a princess, and you’re like the servant who takes care of her.” I didn’t like it, so I asked him why. He sniffled and said, “Because you look… messy.” Until the day I went to that party. My parents dragged my sister over to the hosts, trying their best to sell her, praising her to the skies. I shrank into a corner, staring at the imported cookies on the table, my mouth watering. But the hosts’ young son didn’t even glance at my sister. He walked straight through the crowd and pulled me into a tight hug. “Mine,” He said. 1 Gennifer had a face that could launch a thousand ships. Almond eyes, high cheekbones, skin as white as fresh cream. Her eyelashes were long and fluttered like delicate fans. Whenever we went out, strangers would stop my mom and ask, “This child is so pretty, is she a model?” My mom would smile modestly, “Oh, no, she just takes after her father.” If I happened to chime in with a, “Mom?” The strangers would jump, then look down at my freckled face, which was usually smeared with chocolate. “Oh, is this also your daughter?” My mom’s smile would falter, “Yes.” “The younger one.” The strangers would chuckle, “Looks like the older one stole all the nutrients in the womb!” My mom would laugh along, “That’s right, the older one is a go-getter.” I took that whole thing about Gennifer stealing my nutrients in the womb to heart. For a long time, I saw her as my nemesis. Well, not that long. Maybe a couple of months. My main tactic was stealing her snacks. Like those bright red strawberries, those shiny cherries, and that stinky-but-delicious durian. My mom would always wash them, slice them, and serve them to Gennifer. A huge plate, arranged all fancy. I’d only get the scraps. When I finished my portion and was still hungry, I’d sneakily grab some from Gennifer’s plate. You can’t go to the well too often without getting wet. I got caught in the act after a few times. Gennifer started crying, all teary-eyed and pathetic. “She’s stealing my food.” She even looked good when she cried, like a porcelain doll shedding pearl tears. I stuck my neck out and yelled, “It’s her fault for stealing my nutrients in the womb!” Gennifer sobbed and retorted, “I didn’t!” I started throwing a fit, “You did, you did!” My face contorted, and my eyes crossed. Compared to Gennifer’s perfect tears, I looked like something from a horror movie. Like a wicked witch tormenting a damsel in distress. My mom snapped, grabbed a clothes hanger, and started swatting my butt. “I’ll teach you to lie!” “You’re not pretty, but you’re nasty on the inside, too!” I jumped around trying to avoid my mom’s attacks, pleading, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, don’t hit me!” My mom put her hands on her hips, pointed at my nose, and yelled, “Your sister doesn’t owe you anything!” “If I ever see you taking her things again, I’ll break your legs!” Gennifer didn’t steal my nutrients. So why did she look like an angel and I looked…well, me? I couldn’t figure it out. Why were my parents so biased? I couldn’t figure that out either. So I asked someone else. I sat with Fred Davies on a bench in the park, each of us holding half a popsicle. “Do you have a brother?” I asked Fred. He sucked on his popsicle, making a slurping sound. “Yeah, why?” “Does your mom treat your brother better?” “Better? What do you mean?” He looked over at me. I thought for a moment, then gestured wildly, “Like…she only gives your brother the good snacks, only sends your brother to tutoring…” He frowned for a long time, then shook his head, “Nah, not really.” “But isn’t not going to tutoring a good thing?” We looked at each other, like we’d found a kindred spirit. “Totally.” My mom had signed Gennifer up for all kinds of classes: piano, dance, etiquette, you name it. Every time she went out, Gennifer had to wear a tight dress and get all dolled up, like a mannequin. Her schedule was packed solid. I was different. I was a free range kid. While Gennifer was in a studio trying to stretch, I was in the sandbox making mud pies. Tutoring sounded awful. Thinking about it that way, Gennifer was kind of pathetic. My jealousy vanished. Fred asked, “Do you have a sister?” “Yep,” I said. He just said “Oh,” and didn’t ask anything else. The only sound was us slurping our popsicles. 2 I’d regained my strange sense of inner peace. I stopped causing trouble at home, and even started looking at Gennifer with a bit of sympathy. I was still doing my own thing, and I had my friends. One day, I was having too much fun and lost track of time. By the time I noticed, the sun had already set, and the park lights were dim. One by one, my friends were picked up by their parents. Some parents were angry, some were worried, some yelled, some spoke softly. But they were all taken home. Even Fred was dragged away by his older brother, who looked just like him, only better-looking. Before he left, Fred turned around and yelled, “Go home, Sunny!” The busy playground instantly emptied, becoming eerily quiet. I realized I was the only one left. It was so quiet. I looked up at my building. It was tall, and the lights in the living room were on, a warm yellow. Why weren’t my parents looking for me? I kicked a small pebble at my feet. If Gennifer was out this late… Whatever, there was no point in thinking about it. My mom was like her personal bodyguard, always by her side, shuttling her between classes. It was only a short walk home. But I didn’t know who I was mad at, so I didn’t move. I squatted down and started drawing in the sandbox. I drew cats, castles, princesses, bows… I filled the entire sandbox. People came home from work, one after another. Still, no one came to look for me. The park became emptier, and my stomach started growling. The wind blew, and the leaves rustled. It sounded like ghosts were running through the woods. A chill ran down my spine, and my hair stood on end. I was too scared to look back, so I took off running. I burst into the lobby, jumped into the elevator, and pounded on the door. I felt like a million ghosts were chasing me. Three…two… I was about to be captured… I was about to cry. The door opened. … White light streamed from the doorway, and the ghosts vanished. I was saved. My mom opened the door, glanced at me, and frowned. “Where’ve you been running around? You’re so late.” “Dinner’s in the oven. Get it yourself.” I was still relieved, smiling foolishly. “Thanks, Mom.” I quickly took off my shoes and went to get some food. Gennifer was sitting on the couch watching cartoons. I finished my dinner in a few bites and sat down next to her. It was Detective Conan. The wealthy old man’s ruby was missing, and there were four suspects. When one of the guys came on screen, I pointed at the TV and yelled, “It’s him! He looks like a bad guy!” Gennifer rolled her eyes and ignored me. I got excited. “Wanna bet? If I win, you have to give me half your allowance.” She didn’t say anything, pretending to be all cool. I stared at her with wide eyes. She got annoyed and clicked her tongue. “What’s your reasoning?” I said, “You can tell by looking at him! He has a bad face!” “Oh,” Gennifer said casually, “He kind of looks like you.” I got angry and was about to hit her. My mom’s voice boomed, “Gennifer, it’s time to practice your piano!” Gennifer’s face immediately fell, and she got up reluctantly. I was happy and stuck my tongue out at her. I went back to watching TV. My mom yelled again, “Sunny, turn off the TV! Your sister’s practicing piano, don’t bother her!” I said “Okay,” turned off the sound, and kept watching the show silently. 3 That stupid TV station. It always cut off at the crucial moment. Who was the killer? I had to wait another week. I was very bitter. So bitter that Fred noticed. We were each on a swing, rocking back and forth. He asked, “What’s wrong with you?” I complained about the TV station. After hearing the story, Fred slapped his thigh. “I think it’s the guy with the rat face, too!” We looked at each other and high-fived. “Great minds think alike!” “Hey, did your mom yell at you last time you came home late?” “Nope,” I said. He was envious. “Your mom’s so cool. She doesn’t care about you.” I didn’t say anything, but something felt wrong. As we were talking, Gennifer came back from her lesson. She was wearing a pink dress and a shiny headband. My mom was holding her hand and walking towards us. I yelled, “Mom! Gennifer!” My mom waved her hand and yelled, “Don’t play too late.” Gennifer glanced back, then walked away with my mom. I turned around and saw Fred’s popsicle on the ground, covered in sand. “What’s wrong?” Fred stared at Gennifer, his mouth wide open and his eyes bulging. “That’s your sister?” I said, “Yep.” He looked at the direction Gennifer disappeared, then at me, then back at her. “You were adopted, weren’t you?” I freaked out. “You were adopted! Your whole family was adopted!” Fred was still muttering, “Your sister’s like a princess.” I also thought Gennifer was like a princess. But I didn’t want to hear him say it. When he saw I wasn’t listening, he leaned in. “You two don’t look like sisters at all.” “Then what do we look like?” He thought for a moment, then said seriously, “Like a princess and her servant.” Some friend! I got so angry that I pushed him hard. He wasn’t expecting it and fell into the sandbox, getting sand all over himself. “Hey! Why’d you hit me for telling the truth!” “Jerk!” I stormed off, crying. “We’re over! Don’t talk to me again!” I was so angry. When I got home, I tore up all the superhero cards that Fred had given me. Fred was such an idiot. Even if his brother was a hundred times better-looking, I never said it to his face! There were pieces of paper everywhere. My mom saw it and exploded. “Sunny! What are you doing now!” “Making a mess! Can’t you keep things clean?” I picked up the pieces while arguing, “Gennifer spilled soup last time, but you didn’t yell at her!” “She didn’t mean to!” “I didn’t mean to, either!” I got emotional and burst into tears. “Does that mean that I’m doing it on purpose?” My mom put her hands on her hips and glared at me. “You’re talking back now? Why can’t you be more like your sister? She’s so much better behaved!” “What are you crying for? Don’t be so embarrassing!” I yelled back, “That’s because you never yell at her!” My mom laughed angrily. “So it’s our fault?” She made a move to grab the clothes hanger. I got scared and ran back to my room, locking the door. She didn’t chase me. After a while, I heard the door close. My mom had taken Gennifer out again. 4 I pulled out the small mirror that I hid under my pillow. I bitterly thought that everyone loved Gennifer. Was it just because she was pretty? I wasn’t that ugly. The mirror reflected a face covered in tears and snot. It was dirty, like a bitter melon. I scared myself and quickly turned the mirror over. When I thought about Gennifer crying, it was beautiful, like an angel crying pearls. People are so different. I felt a little resentful. Why did my mom make Gennifer so pretty and then just throw me together? I felt like the world was out to get me. My parents were biased. Even my friends betrayed me and couldn’t take their eyes off Gennifer. I decided I would be a cold-blooded killer. They would all regret it! The next day at school. Fred said hi to me. I pretended not to see him and walked right past him. Fred insisted on getting in my way, waving his hand in front of my face. “Are you blind?” I said coldly, “Please stay away from me. We’re over.” He smirked. “Are you really mad?” “It was my fault. Don’t be angry.” As he said that, he took out a bottle of milk from his bag and gave it to me. There was writing all over it, I couldn’t read it. “Here, my aunt bought this. It’s imported milk, really expensive.” I was a little tempted. At home, all the good food was for Gennifer. I was about to reach out and take it. Then he pulled out a pink bottle with big strawberries on it. “This one’s for your sister.” My hand recoiled like I’d been shocked. Fred didn’t realize what he’d done. “This strawberry one is sweet, girls love it. Your sister will definitely like it.” I didn’t say anything. I sped up, went around him, and walked away without looking back. Fred yelled, “Hey! Sunny!” “Why are you running, Sunny?”

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I was out of town when I received a text from my neighbor, Mrs. Rodriguez, claiming my husband, Arthur, had brought a glamorous woman home. I immediately rushed back. Arthur wasn’t there, so I tore through the house, overturning drawers and rummaging through closets. “You slut, where are you hiding? Get out here!” I peered under the bed, only to discover a blood-soaked female corpse. Her head had been severed, her eyes wide open, staring fixedly at me. Terror seized me, shaking me to my very core. Just then, footsteps sounded from outside the door. Arthur was home! 1 The lock clicked. A shiver shot through me, and almost instinctively, I glanced around, then darted into the wardrobe. It had louvered doors, and through the slats, I could still see the head under the bed. The woman wore heavy smoky eye makeup and exaggerated contact lenses. At first glance, her eyes were just two black voids, bulging as if they might pop out. I clamped a hand over my mouth, my heart pounding so hard I thought it would explode. I couldn’t fathom it. I came home to catch my husband cheating, and instead, I stumbled into this! Why would he kill her? Did they argue? My husband, Arthur, always had a short fuse. If a waiter was slow at a restaurant, he’d slam his hand on the table. Arguments were a regular occurrence. But even with his temper, he wouldn’t just kill someone, would he? That’s a crime! Didn’t he think about the consequences? Lost in my chaotic thoughts, Arthur stepped into the bedroom. He looked to be in high spirits, carrying a black plastic bag and humming a tune. “Oh, what a beautiful morning, oh, what a beautiful day!” Humming, he slowly knelt, placed the plastic bag by his feet, and pulled the head from under the bed. He cradled the head in his left hand, and with his right, he playfully tapped the woman’s nose. “You know something?” “You just never listen!” His tone was teasing, as if they were flirting. “Look at you, so beautiful. I truly adore you.” “I told you to just lie still on the bed, but you had to go messing with my things.” “You found my secret. What could I do? I had no choice but to let you go!” “We haven’t been together long, I really am going to miss you.” Then he leaned in, planting two passionate kisses on the woman’s crimson lips. The thick, foul smell of blood assaulted my nostrils, and I nearly gagged. I never imagined my husband could be so utterly twisted. Kissing a severed head! He wasn’t some deranged serial killer, was he? And what “secret” was he talking about? We’d been married for four years. I cleaned everything in the house. His phone password was my birthday; I could look at it anytime. I’d never found anything unusual! 2 I stared at Arthur’s blood-stained face, twisted into a grotesque, unfamiliar expression. After those violent kisses, he started humming again. “Oh, what a beautiful morning, oh, what a beautiful evening…” He tossed the head into the black plastic bag, then bent down and dragged the woman’s body out from under the bed. Only then did I see she was naked. Her figure was alluring, her waist impossibly slender. Alive, she would have been captivating. But now, a brutal gash sliced across her delicate waist, as if she’d been cut in half. A section of her intestines spilled out. Arthur reached out, slowly caressing the blood-soaked intestines, a look of profound sorrow on his face. “Such a shame, I didn’t mean to kill you so soon!” After that, he went to the kitchen and returned with a cleaver. He squatted on the floor and began to expertly dismember the body. Watching him carve away flesh and separate bone with each precise stroke, a wave of intense nausea surged through me. I was about to throw up. Everyone knows the saying about the skilled butcher, who, after nineteen years, could expertly carve an ox, his blade gliding through joints without resistance. Arthur gave me that exact impression. His movements were fluid, sickeningly smooth. I barely heard any sound of bones being chopped. He was clearly engrossed in his gruesome skill, a look of satisfied pride on his face. Soon, he had neatly separated the two legs, bones laid out, meat minced and packed into black plastic bags. He stood up, stretching his back, and then, his gaze suddenly fixed, his expression snapping to one of alarm. 3 I followed his line of sight, and my eyes widened, cold sweat trickling down my spine. My earring! I instinctively touched my earlobe. The left one was indeed empty. It must have fallen off when I was frantically searching the room earlier. Arthur’s brow furrowed. He walked over and picked up the earring. “I could’ve sworn Daisy was wearing this exact pair of pearl earrings when she left this morning?” He’d given them to me for my birthday. I loved them, and I’d carefully chosen my outfit around them before heading out. Arthur had teased me, saying most people picked jewelry to match their clothes, but I did it the other way around. He’d joked it was like baking a cake just to have frosting. He was clearly remembering that conversation, and his face grew darker. He lifted his head, scrutinizing the room, his eyes sweeping every corner. I held my breath, terrified. The next second, an idea flashed through my mind, and I fumbled for my phone in my pocket. My palms were slick with sweat, my fingers too slippery. I tapped the screen repeatedly, but couldn’t unlock it. My entire body trembled, my heart threatening to burst from my chest. Through the louvered doors, I watched Arthur pick up his phone from the nightstand and dial my number. My phone wasn’t on silent. If it rang, I was dead! In a desperate rush, a sudden thought struck me, and I pressed and held the power button on the right side of my phone, turning it off! At that very instant, a clear female voice echoed in the silent bedroom. “Beep, the subscriber you are calling is temporarily unavailable.” 4 “The subscriber you are calling is temporarily unavailable.” After several attempts, Arthur’s frown deepened. “Why is her phone off? Did the battery die?” “Never mind, I’m probably overthinking. She shouldn’t be back so soon.” “That silly girl, she probably dropped the earring before she even left.” Arthur shook his head, a wry smile playing on his lips. He slipped the earring into his pocket and went back to dismembering the body. About half an hour later, he had completely separated all the bones and minced meat, packing them into different large black plastic bags, which he then carried into the kitchen. I remained hidden in the wardrobe, my legs numb from crouching. The sound of running water came from the kitchen. I carefully flexed my numb ankles, then cautiously opened the wardrobe door a crack. Our apartment layout had been modified. The small room next to the kitchen was knocked through to become the dining room, and the kitchen’s sliding door also opened in that direction. There was also a cabinet partition between the dining room and the living room. This meant that if I could get out of the master bedroom without making a sound, I could reach the front door without Arthur noticing. I planned to seize this chance to escape. As for what would happen afterward, I had no idea how to deal with it, and frankly, I wasn’t thinking that far ahead. All I wanted was to get away from Arthur, this murderer. 5 After opening the wardrobe door, I stood still for a few seconds, letting my legs regain feeling. Then, on tiptoes, making sure not to make even the slightest sound, I slowly moved towards the front door. One step, two steps, three steps. The mahogany security door was right in front of me! Arthur was still engrossed in washing things in the kitchen, the sound of water constant. My fingers, white at the knuckles from gripping, had just touched the doorknob. Suddenly— “Knock, knock, knock!” The knocking exploded without warning, making me jump. “Daisy? Arthur? Are you home?” It was Mrs. Rodriguez, our neighbor, her voice booming, tinged with barely suppressed excitement. Almost immediately, the water in the kitchen stopped. My scalp prickled. I snatched my hand back from the door and frantically scanned the living room. It was an open space, nowhere to hide, except for the heavy L-shaped fabric sofa turned sideways to the door. I practically dove, curling up behind the sofa’s corner, my heart hammering like a drum. Arthur’s footsteps approached, moving past my hiding spot, towards the door. “Who is it?” he asked, his voice calm as ever. “It’s me, Mrs. Rodriguez from next door.” The voice outside was even more enthusiastic. “I just heard some noise from your place and wondered if Daisy was back?” “I just steamed some corn muffins. Daisy loves them, and they’re still warm.” “Oh, Mrs. Rodriguez.” Arthur opened the door a crack, not fully. “Daisy’s not back yet. I was just in the kitchen chopping bones for a rib soup. Would you like some?” “Really?” Mrs. Rodriguez’s tone shifted, her eyes peering through the gap in the door, as if she wanted to squeeze her whole body in. “That’s odd, I thought I saw her enter the complex this afternoon.” “Did you two have a fight?” “Arthur, you’re an honest man, but you shouldn’t be messing around behind our Daisy’s back!”

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“Sign it. You’ll leave with nothing.” Thomas pushed the divorce papers across the table to me, his voice as detached as if he were closing a business deal. Beside him sat his lawyer, and next to the lawyer, his new partner, Sienna, her belly subtly rounded. Sienna looked at me with an air of condescension. “Ms. Emery, Thomas has been very generous. He’s not even asking for the house or the car back. Just sign.” I picked up the pen. Thomas’s brow furrowed. “Aren’t you going to read the terms?” “No need.” I signed my name. Then I smiled. Thomas’s face changed. 1. Thomas uttered those words at three in the afternoon. The conference room was quiet, sunlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating the divorce agreement. I stared at my name, feeling utterly detached from it. Rachel Emery. Those two words had been mine for thirty-two years. With Thomas, for five. Five years ago, when we married, he wasn’t “Thomas Davies, CEO.” Back then, he was just a product manager who’d been let go by his company, with only three months’ severance pay in his pocket. I remember him telling me he wanted to start a business. I asked him what kind. He said enterprise SaaS systems. I told him that market was already saturated. He said it didn’t matter; he had the connections, the resources, he just needed someone who could code. At the time, I was a tech lead at a major corporation, earning over six hundred thousand a year. I told him, “I’ll do it.” He paused, then smiled. It was the most genuine smile I had ever seen from him. “Really? You’d quit your job and join me?” I said yes. That’s how we began. I resigned, he put up his severance pay, and we wrote the first line of code in our rented apartment. Back then, the company was just the two of us. Thomas was responsible for finding clients, negotiating partnerships, and securing investments. I handled all the technical development. All of it. I built the server architecture. I designed the database. I wrote the front-end and back-end. I optimized the core algorithms. The day the first version of the product launched, Thomas posted on social media. “Day 127 of our startup, and the product is finally live. Thanks to everyone who supported me.” The photo was of his own back, sitting in front of a computer. I scrolled past that post while debugging an online glitch. It was two in the morning; I’d had three coffees and my eyes were barely open. I just smiled, saying nothing. That post was just the beginning. The day we signed our first client, Thomas took them out to dinner, without inviting me. The day the first investment came through, Thomas posted, “Thank you to our investors for their trust, and to my incredible team,” with a photo of him and the investors. Team? Back then, the entire tech department was just me. I brought it up to Thomas once. “Could you mention me when you post?” Thomas was on the phone. He looked at me after I spoke. “You’re my wife. Why would I mention you? Outsiders will think I’m mixing business with pleasure.” “I’m the company’s Head of Technology.” “You’re my wife,” he emphasized. “What you do is what our company does. What’s the difference?” I said there was none. I truly believed there was no difference. The company grew from two people to twenty, then from twenty to eighty. Thomas hired sales, operations, finance, administration. But he didn’t hire tech. It wasn’t that he hadn’t tried. Three people were hired, and all three left. Because he couldn’t keep them. Because only I could understand the core code, and only I could maintain the core system. Newcomers couldn’t take over, or they couldn’t do it well. Thomas said, “Well, you just keep doing it then. You’re used to it anyway.” I said okay. I did it alone for five years. Five years. Over eighteen hundred days. Over fifty thousand hours. My recorded overtime alone exceeded eight thousand hours. An average of four and a half hours of overtime every day. Weekends were almost non-existent. The only time I ever took leave was when I was hospitalized for appendicitis. On the first day of my stay, Thomas came to see me. He brought a bag of fruit and talked for three minutes. Then he asked me, “What’s the root password for the server?” I lay in the hospital bed, fresh from surgery, the anesthesia not yet fully worn off. I gave him the password. He said thank you, then left. He didn’t come the next day. Or the day after. On the fourth day, he picked me up when I was discharged. In the car, I asked him, “What happened with the server?” He said, “Nothing major, just a small bug. Fixed it.” I told him to let me see. He said, “No need, it’s already resolved.” I asked who resolved it. He said an external contractor. A thought flashed through my mind at that moment, but I couldn’t grasp it. I should have. In the company’s third year, we secured Series A funding, with a valuation of thirty million. Thomas posted on social media again. “Thank you to the team, to our investors, and to everyone who believes in me. Three years, and we’ve finally reached this point.” The photo was of him and the investors, with the sales team standing behind them. The comments section was full of congratulations. I typed three words in the comments: Congratulations. Thomas replied with an emoji. That night, when I got home, I asked him, “How are you planning to divide the equity?” He said it was already done. I asked, “How much?” He said, “You get 5%.” I stopped chopping vegetables. 5%? I wrote the entire system. Front-end, back-end, architecture, algorithms, operations. I did it alone for three years. 5%? Thomas saw my displeasure and sighed. “I know you work hard, but equity isn’t about how much work you do. The Sales Director also gets 5%, the Finance Director also gets 5%. You can’t think of yourself as special.” “I’m the only one who’s been with you since day one.” “You’re my wife. What’s yours is mine, and what’s mine is yours. Why be so particular?” He used that line again. He always used that line. I said, “Alright.” 5% it was. At that time, the company was valued at thirty million. 5% was 1.5 million. 1.5 million for three years of my effort. An average of five hundred thousand per year. I used to earn over six hundred thousand a year at the big corporation. By this calculation, I was actually losing money. But I didn’t say anything. He was my husband. We were family. Family doesn’t keep secrets. After Series A came Series B. After Series B came Series C. The company’s valuation soared from thirty million to one hundred million, then from one hundred million to three hundred million. My share was still 5%. Thomas’s share was 42%. I didn’t ask him why mine hadn’t increased. I was afraid he’d say “You’re my wife” again. In the company’s fourth year, at the annual gala, Thomas stood on stage, impeccably dressed, radiating confidence. Over a hundred employees sat below, the spotlight on his face. “This year, our company’s revenue exceeded twenty million, and profits turned positive for the first time. All of this is thanks to everyone’s hard work.” Applause. “Thank you to the sales team, you are the company’s vanguard.” Applause. “Thank you to the operations team, you are the company’s cornerstone.” Applause. “Thank you to the finance team, you are the company’s guardians.” Applause. I sat in the audience, waiting for him to mention the tech team. He didn’t. After the gala, a new sales employee asked me, “Ms. Emery, what’s your role with Thomas?” I said, “I’m the Head of Technology.” She looked surprised. “Oh? I thought you were Thomas’s assistant.” That night, when I got home, I asked Thomas, “Why didn’t you mention me?” He was untying his tie. He paused after I spoke. “Why would I mention you? You’re my wife, everyone knows that. If I mention you, people will say I’m mixing business with pleasure.” “You don’t have to mention me as your wife, just the tech team.” “The tech team is just you. Mentioning them is the same as mentioning you, isn’t it? Still going to be called mixing business with pleasure.” I fell silent. Thomas walked over and patted my shoulder. “Honey, don’t overthink it. I remember everything you’ve done. When the company gets bigger, I’ll naturally increase your shares.” I said, “Okay.” I waited. The fifth year passed. No increase in shares. But there was a Sienna. 2. Sienna was the administrative assistant Thomas hired. I’d met her when she started; she was very pretty and spoke sweetly. I didn’t think much of it. The company had over a hundred employees, half of them women, and she wasn’t the only pretty one. But I should have. After Sienna joined, Thomas became increasingly busy. He used to be home before ten, then it became eleven, then twelve. I asked him why he was so busy. He said the company was pushing for Series D funding, and there was a lot to do. I asked if he needed my help with anything. He said no, just keep an eye on the technical stuff. I believed him. Three months after Sienna started, the administrative department had a team-building event. Thomas went. I asked him, “Since when do you attend the admin department’s team-building?” He said it wasn’t team-building, but an employee care activity, and as the boss, he should show his face. I said okay. Six months after Sienna started, it was the company’s annual gala. That year’s gala was entirely organized by Thomas; I wasn’t involved. There was a raffle, and Sienna won the grand prize. The latest iPhone model. Thomas personally handed her the phone and even posed for a photo with her. When he posted it on social media, Thomas wrote: “Grand Prize winner at the annual gala, such good luck!” The photo was of him and Sienna. Sienna was beaming. I sat in the audience, looking at that social media post, and a flicker of unease went through me. But I didn’t say anything. I had too much I wanted to say, but I was afraid he’d just think I was being paranoid again. Eight months after Sienna started, I found out. That night, Thomas came home very late, and walked straight into the bathroom. He left his phone in the living room. I didn’t mean to look. I really didn’t. But the phone lit up, and a text message popped up. Sienna: Thinking of you. Just those three words. I stared at the message for three seconds. Then I put the phone back where it was. Thomas came out of the shower, picked up his phone, and glanced at it. I asked him, “Who’s looking for you?” He said, “Company stuff.” I said, “Oh.” I couldn’t sleep that night. The next morning, after Thomas left, I opened the company’s time-tracking system. As the Head of Technology, I had backend access. I pulled up Thomas and Sienna’s time cards for the past three months. Their attendance times overlapped almost perfectly. When Thomas worked late, Sienna worked late. When Thomas worked weekends, Sienna also worked weekends. Then I pulled up the company’s access control records. The two of them often entered and exited the company together. Several records showed Sienna swiping her card to enter Thomas’s office. At eleven o’clock at night. I put down my phone and took a deep breath. I told myself it might be work-related. I told myself not to be paranoid. I told myself Thomas wasn’t that kind of person. I told myself he was my husband. We were family. Family doesn’t keep secrets. I didn’t say anything. A year after Sienna started, I found out the truth. That night, Thomas didn’t come home again, saying he had a business dinner. I opened the dashcam app on his car. The GPS showed his car parked in a complex on the west side of the city. I had been to that complex once. Last year, for a company team-building event, Sienna invited everyone to her place for dinner. It was that complex. I didn’t go to him. I drove to the complex entrance and sat for an hour. At one in the morning, Thomas’s car drove out. Sienna was in the passenger seat. They were talking about something in the car, and Sienna was laughing. I watched from a distance, without getting out. The next morning, Thomas came home. He said he’d had too much to drink at the dinner and feared drunk driving, so he slept at the office. I said, “Oh.” He asked me why I looked pale, if I hadn’t slept well. I said, “A little.” He said, “When things settle down at the company in a couple of days, let’s go on a trip. You’re too tired.” I said, “Okay.” After he left, I didn’t cry. I sat on the sofa for a long time. Then I opened my laptop and started working. Code wouldn’t betray me. Code wouldn’t lie to me. The code was mine; it belonged to me. For the next two months, I didn’t bring up the subject. Thomas continued his routine: work, business dinners, not coming home. I continued to write code, debug, and optimize systems. The company was pushing for Series D, and there truly was a lot to do. My system needed a complete overhaul. Before the new version launched, I worked overtime for over thirty consecutive days, sleeping only four or five hours a night. Thomas never once asked if I was tired. One night, at two in the morning, the server crashed, and user data was at risk of being lost. I single-handedly rushed to fix it until five in the morning, finally restoring it. That morning, Thomas came to the office and saw me asleep at my desk. He nudged me. “Server fixed?” I said, “Yes.” He said, “Good, I have an investor meeting soon. Can you prepare a report on the technical metrics for me?” I said, “Okay.” He left. He didn’t ask if I was tired. He didn’t ask if I’d had breakfast. It was as if I were a machine. Used, then used again. The Series D funding negotiations lasted three months and were finally finalized. A valuation of three hundred million, eighty million in funding. Thomas was so happy he practically danced three circles in his office. That night, uncharacteristically, he came home early and even brought a bouquet of flowers. I thought he was coming to thank me. He sat down, his expression very serious. “Honey, I have something to tell you.” I thought, Is he finally going to increase my shares? He said, “Sienna is pregnant.” I paused for three seconds. Then I smiled. “Congratulations.” Thomas hadn’t expected my reaction; he looked surprised. “Aren’t you angry?” “Should I be angry?” “I thought you would…” “Would what? Cry? Make a scene?” I stood up. “Thomas, you overestimate yourself.” He froze there. I walked into the bedroom and locked the door. That night, I slept very well. The next morning, I went to work as usual. Thomas wasn’t there; apparently, he had taken Sienna for her prenatal checkup. I sat at my desk, opened my laptop, and began to organize files. All the code I had written over these five years. All the technical documentation. All the system architecture diagrams. All the algorithm models. I looked through each one, confirming them one by one. Then I opened the National Copyright Office website. Computer software copyright registration. The applicant could be an individual or a company. I had never paid attention to this before. But now I had to. I found the date I wrote the very first line of code five years ago. March 12, 2018. The company hadn’t even been registered yet. All the code I wrote was completed before the company was incorporated. Including the core architecture, core algorithms, and core modules. Legally speaking, who owned the copyright to this code? Me. Because I completed them in my individual capacity, before I was employed. Thomas had only verbally said, “You come and help me write,” and no contract had ever been signed. At that time, I was his wife, not his employee. Writing code for him was helping, not working. The copyright for this code was always mine. I sat in the office all day. In the evening, Thomas returned. He walked into the office, saw me still at my desk, and looked a bit surprised. “You haven’t left yet?” “No, just organizing things.” “What things?” “Five years of work.” He didn’t ask further. He walked into his own office and closed the door. An hour later, he called me in. In the office, besides him, were the company’s legal counsel and Sienna. Thomas pushed a document towards me. “Rachel Emery, let’s get a divorce. Here are the papers, take a look.” I picked up the agreement. It was thick, seven or eight pages. I flipped through it, page by page. The gist was: irreconcilable differences, voluntary divorce. The house goes to the husband, the car to the husband, company equity to the husband, bank accounts to the husband. Debts are separate. The wife voluntarily relinquishes all claims to property division. Leave with nothing. Four clear words. Sienna watched me from beside Thomas, her eyes filled with condescension and triumph. “Ms. Emery, Thomas has been very generous. He’s not even asking for the house or the car back. Just sign.” I glanced at her. Her belly was showing, probably four months along. I looked back at Thomas. He sat in his executive chair, his expression distant. Five years. From having nothing to a valuation of three hundred million. I had been by his side through it all. Now he wanted me to leave with nothing. I smiled. “Alright, I’ll sign.” I picked up the pen and signed my name. Thomas looked surprised. “Aren’t you going to read the terms?” “No need.” I pushed the agreement back to him. “When are we filing for divorce?” “Tomorrow.” “Good.” I stood up, grabbed my bag, and walked out of the office. Sienna called out from behind me, “Ms. Emery, you still have things at your desk!” I didn’t turn around. “I don’t need them.”

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It was my mother-in-law’s fiftieth birthday, and my husband’s assistant suddenly sent me a photo. In the picture, my mother-in-law was locked in a dog cage, her teeth pulled out, her mouth bloody. I immediately called Amelia. “Amelia Henley, what in the world are you doing?!” Amelia laughed coldly. “You have the nerve to ask? Mr. Davies just opened a new restaurant, and you let that old hag freeload there. Are your family starving?” “Let me tell you, Mr. Davies already gave me that restaurant. Trying to take advantage of me? This is what you get!” I gasped in disbelief. “Are you insane? That’s Mike Davies’ mother!” Amelia replied nonchalantly, “Mr. Davies said your mother is your mother, and his mother is his mother. He never considered your mother as family.” Mike was famously devoted to his mother. I couldn’t believe Amelia would dare treat Mike’s mother like that, but then I realized: she thought it was my mother! 1 Amelia hung up immediately after speaking. Without hesitation, I called Mike. “Mike, Mom’s been hurt by Amelia. You need to go to—” “Alright, I know what you’re going to say.” Mike cut me off, his voice cold. “I think Amelia’s taught her a good lesson.” I froze. “What did you say?” Mike sighed, sounding somewhat impatient. “Scarlett Miller, even though we’re married, your mother needs to have some basic boundaries. She can’t constantly try to freeload and take advantage of me.” I grew agitated. “You’re mistaken, she’s your—” “Enough!” Mike snapped, annoyed. “What if she is my mother-in-law? I have no obligation to tolerate her greed.” “Today she dares to freeload at the restaurant, tomorrow she’ll dare to come directly to my company to ask for money.” “Amelia teaching her a lesson, helping her remember her place, it’s for her own good.” Mike’s words instantly chilled my anxious heart. My mother, though from a rural background, had always been kind and honest, never taking advantage of anyone, and she treated Mike with boundless generosity. When Mike was struggling financially in the early days of his startup, my mother didn’t hesitate to give him her life savings. Knowing he had a sensitive stomach, my mother, no matter how busy, would make various stomach-friendly foods and send them to the city from hundreds of miles away. Yet, this simple, kind elderly woman, who treated him like her own son, was now, in Mike’s words, a greedy leech who deserved to be taught a lesson and had no boundaries. A profound sadness swept through me, and my voice softened. “Mike, I really suggest you go to the restaurant and check on your mother. After all, it wasn’t easy for her to raise you.” Mike immediately grew furious. “Scarlett Miller, are you insane? When has your mother ever raised me?” “No wonder Amelia couldn’t help but teach your mother a lesson. With a daughter like you, she deserves to be beaten!” “Today is my mother’s fiftieth birthday. I still have to prepare her banquet; I don’t have time for your messy nonsense.” “If you had any sense, you’d stay out of this and let your mother learn her lesson.” With that, Mike hung up. A few seconds later, he sent me a text message: “My mother’s birthday banquet will be held at the Marriott Hotel in an hour. Dress up and come. Don’t be as embarrassing as your mother.” I didn’t say anything more, just quietly replied: “Okay.” Since you, the son, are telling me to mind my own business. Then why should I worry? 2 An hour later, I changed and arrived at the Marriott Hotel. The entire banquet hall had been exquisitely decorated, filled with flowers, balloons, and gifts. It was clear Mike genuinely valued his mother and had put a lot of thought into her birthday celebration. Mike’s family and friends, along with all the partners of Davies Group, were present. Mike was entertaining them, occasionally checking his watch and glancing towards the entrance, seemingly awaiting his mother’s arrival. Amelia, dressed in a stylish dress, was laughing and chatting with Mike’s sister, Samantha. Seeing me enter the ballroom, they exchanged glances and walked towards me together. Amelia spoke with a sneer, “Well, well, isn’t it the dutiful daughter who encourages her mother to freeload everywhere?” “What fine things are you planning to pack up today for your greedy mother to sample?” Samantha looked at me with a disgusted expression. “Scarlett Miller, you’re married to my brother now. Can you please drop your family’s cheap habits and stop embarrassing the Davies name?” “Anyone who didn’t know would think our family was raising a bunch of beggars!” Hearing the commotion, the guests at the venue began to whisper contemptuously. “When I arrived, I heard someone was freeloading at the Cloud Perch restaurant today. I wondered how anyone could be so shameless these days, turns out it’s Scarlett Miller’s mother!” “I heard Amelia taught her a good lesson, locked her in a dog cage and pulled out her teeth!” “Such people deserve it! It’s bad enough she’s a low-class embarrassment, but she also shames the Davies family. Having her teeth pulled is getting off easy.” “Exactly, if she’s not taught a harsh lesson, what if she goes out and makes a scene again?” Hearing the guests’ taunts, Mike’s face turned grim. He walked towards me, looking down at me condescendingly. His voice was cold. “Scarlett Miller, today is my mother’s fiftieth birthday. If her mood is ruined because of your mother’s pathetic behavior, I will never forgive you, or your utterly clueless mother!” His words were incredibly harsh, and I found them simply laughable. “Mike, if you’re truly so concerned about your mother, you should go to the restaurant and see for yourself.” Mike frowned. “What would I see at the restaurant?” “Watch your mother throw a tantrum?” “Or watch her make a spectacle of herself?” “Scarlett Miller, stop bringing your mother’s misfortune to my attention!” Samantha raised her chin, sneering in agreement. “Exactly! Today is my mother’s birthday. Is your mother’s petty drama really worth my brother’s time?” “If you ask me, she should be locked in that restaurant and starved for a few days, so she knows her place.” “Lest she truly believes that just because you married into our family, your whole family gets to ride our coattails to glory.” Amelia looked at me triumphantly. “Sister Scarlett, I know you feel for your mother. Don’t worry, I just taught her a small lesson to help her remember the rules. I wouldn’t actually do anything serious to her.” Just as she finished speaking, Mr. Kim, the manager of the Cloud Perch restaurant, rushed into the banquet hall, out of breath. “Ms. Henley, it’s terrible!” “The old lady in the dog cage… she’s dead!” 3 Mr. Kim’s words caused the entire banquet hall to erupt. Amelia, utterly flustered, demanded, “What happened?!” Mr. Kim gasped, “We followed your instructions. We pulled out her teeth and locked her in the dog cage, and we left her there.” “Who knew the old lady had a heart condition? Not long after you left, she started clutching her chest, gasping for air, and she died within moments.” Hearing this, Amelia’s body went limp, and she nearly collapsed. Mike quickly steadied her, comforting her. “Amelia, don’t be afraid.” “This is all Scarlett Miller’s mother’s own poor health. It has nothing to do with you.” Samantha also reacted, immediately nodding in agreement. “Exactly, Amelia, you can’t be blamed for this. Blame that old woman herself for being in poor health and still making a scene.” “If you ask me, she deserved to die. It saves her from further embarrassing our family.” Seeing Mike and Samantha both siding with Amelia, the previously stunned guests also quickly chose their sides. “That’s right, people who love to take advantage like that are just parasites on society even when they’re alive.” “Amelia is acting on behalf of heaven; there’s nothing to be afraid of.” “Exactly, who told her to freeload first? Her heart was bad, and she still went out looking for trouble. Isn’t that just asking for death?” In an instant, everyone was comforting Amelia. It was as if she, the perpetrator, was the one who had been wronged, not the pitiful deceased. Seeing everyone on her side, a flicker of triumph crossed Amelia’s eyes. But the next moment, she timidly glanced at me and spoke weakly to Mike. “But Mr. Davies, it is, after all, Sister Scarlett’s mother who died. What if she causes trouble for me?” Mike looked at her with tenderness. “Don’t worry, with me here, no one can harm you.” Then, Mike immediately had a letter of understanding drafted and handed it to me. “Scarlett Miller, your mother was in the wrong first. Her death can only be blamed on her own bad luck, not Amelia.” “For the sake of our marriage, I will arrange a dignified funeral for your mother.” “But you must sign this letter of understanding, promising to let this matter rest and not make trouble for Amelia.” Samantha, with her arms crossed, spoke imperiously. “Scarlett Miller, your mother brought this on herself. Don’t even think about trying to extort Amelia. Be smart and sign the letter of understanding.” The two siblings commanded me imperiously, waiting for me to sign the letter of understanding. But I pushed the letter back to them, stating calmly, “If anyone is to sign, it’s you two. I have no right to.” 4 Mike thought I was refusing, and his voice immediately darkened. “Scarlett Miller, don’t be ungrateful.” “Your mother was an unemployed drifter, completely worthless in this world. The fact that I’m giving her a decent burial means your family’s ancestral graves are smoking with good fortune. Don’t push your luck.” Samantha frowned and chimed in, “Exactly. If it weren’t for my brother’s kindness, no one would even bother to bury your mother after all the disgraceful things she did.” “We’re giving you an out right now; why aren’t you taking it?” I calmly explained, “You’re mistaken. What I mean is, the person who died is your mother. This letter of understanding, only you can sign.” Samantha, hearing my words, immediately panicked. “Scarlett Miller, are you insane? How dare you say such inauspicious things and curse my mother at her birthday banquet?” Mike also flew into a rage. “Scarlett Miller, it seems I’ve spoiled you too much over the years, allowing you to be so arrogant and lacking even the most basic respect for elders.” “My mother is the most important person in my life. I will not allow anyone to disrespect her, even if you are my wife!” With that, he abruptly turned to Mr. Kim, the manager, and barked, “Go back to the restaurant immediately and throw that old hag’s body into the septic tank!” Mr. Kim glanced at me hesitantly. “Mr. Davies, this… this isn’t right, is it?” Mike roared, “She won’t sign the letter of understanding, will she? She likes to curse my mother, does she? Today I’m going to make sure she knows the consequences of disrespecting my mother!” “Go now, deal with it immediately! Any problems, I’ll take responsibility!” Seeing Mike’s outburst, Mr. Kim dared not disobey and stumbled away to carry out the order. The guests pointed at me, shaking their heads and murmuring amongst themselves. “Scarlett Miller has really touched Mr. Davies’ raw nerve this time.” “Exactly. Mr. Davies’ father passed away young. It was the elder Mrs. Davies who raised him and his sister alone. Who doesn’t know that Mr. Davies cares about her the most? Scarlett Miller must be crazy to curse the elder Mrs. Davies at her own birthday banquet!” “No wonder her mother died. With such an ungrateful daughter, what parent would live long?” The guests’ whispers were piercing, but they didn’t affect me in the slightest. I ignored everyone, looked at Mike, and said, word for word, “Mike, are you sure you want to go this far?” Mike looked down at me condescendingly, his voice cold and sharp. “Scarlett Miller, you brought all this on yourself.” “Your mother died entirely because she was shameless and greedy.” “You shouldn’t, because of this incident, repeatedly bring bad luck and curses to my mother at her birthday banquet.” “If you ask me, your mother, having an ungrateful woman like you who doesn’t understand respect for elders, deserved to die young!” No sooner had he finished speaking than my mother suddenly walked into the banquet hall, looking at Mike with confusion. “Who died?” 5 Seeing my mother standing alive and well before him, Mike froze. He stared with wide eyes, as if seeing a ghost, his gaze fixed on my mother in disbelief, unable to utter a single word for a long moment. The other guests didn’t notice Mike’s expression, instead they simply looked at my mother, their faces showing expressions of disdain and confusion. “Where did this hillbilly come from? Dressed like she picked her clothes from a dumpster.” “Today is the elder Mrs. Davies’ birthday banquet. What’s wrong with the security guards at the entrance? Why are they letting in any Tom, Dick, or Harry?” “Looking at her, she probably smelled the banquet food and wants to come in for a free meal, right?” “How unlucky, today we keep running into these low-class people.” Amelia also quickly stepped forward and snapped at my mother, “Where did this stinking beggar come from?” “Get out of here, now!” “This isn’t a place for you to beg for food!” As she spoke, she looked my mother up and down with disgusted eyes, as if she were looking at something foul. My mother was startled by her sudden hostility and looked at me somewhat helplessly. “Scarlett, what’s going on? Why are they saying such things to me?” I was about to explain, but Amelia suddenly shrieked as if she had discovered something new. “I knew why some blind hillbilly would dare to barge in! It’s another one of your poor relatives!” “Scarlett Miller, do you have any shame?” “It wasn’t enough to let your greedy mother freeload at our restaurant, and now you’re even calling your poor relatives to come and freeload at the elder Mrs. Davies’ birthday banquet?” “Are your Miller family starving?” “Dragging a bunch of poor relatives to squeeze every last penny out of the Davies family?” Her words immediately ignited the emotions of the surrounding guests: “How awful, it’s another one of Scarlett Miller’s poor relatives!” “Disgusting, like a dog, running wherever there’s food.” “Exactly, one just died, and another one comes!” “Mr. Davies, today is the elder Mrs. Davies’ birthday banquet. Letting such a cheap, poor scrounger in, isn’t that embarrassing your family? Get rid of her now!” “Exactly, how can such a person be allowed to spoil the elder Mrs. Davies’ birthday banquet?” Listening to the piercing whispers around her, my mother frowned, perplexed. “Everyone, have you made a mistake?” “I am not Scarlett’s relative; I am her mother!” 6 My mother’s words instantly silenced the previously noisy room. Amelia was the first to exclaim in disbelief, “You, what are you talking about?!” “How can you be Scarlett Miller’s mother?” My mother looked utterly bewildered. “Why can’t I be Scarlett’s mother?” “Today is my in-law’s birthday. I specifically traveled from my hometown to celebrate her birthday. My in-law and Mike both know me.” “Young lady, why would you think I’m not Scarlett’s mother?” My mother was used to country life. For so many years, other than attending my wedding in the city, she rarely came to town. Even when she came to bring Mike her homemade goods, she would travel there and back on the same day, not even stopping for a meal. So most of the people present didn’t recognize my mother. Hearing my mother’s words, everyone was stunned. Each person stared at my mother as if they’d seen a ghost, their eyes wide with suspicion. Just then, Mike snapped out of his shock. He stared intently at my mother, and after confirming she was a living person, he asked in a shaky voice, “Mom, you… you’re not dead?” My mother was taken aback by Mike’s inexplicable question. She frowned slightly, looking at Mike with confusion. “Silly child, what are you saying?” “I’m perfectly fine; why would I be dead?” “I just spent several hours on the bus to get here. Although I’m tired, I’m perfectly healthy.” Seeing my mother indeed unharmed, Samantha also froze. She looked at my mother and asked curiously, “Did you go to Cloud Perch restaurant this afternoon?” My mother looked bewildered. “Cloud Perch restaurant? No, I didn’t.” “I was on the long-distance bus to the city all afternoon. I just arrived a short while ago and came straight to the hotel by taxi.” As she spoke, she pulled out a crumpled long-distance bus ticket from her old cloth bag, showing the departure and arrival times. Seeing that my mother had indeed only just gotten off the bus, everyone present was stunned. “What’s going on? Didn’t Amelia say Scarlett Miller’s mother went to Cloud Perch restaurant to freeload this afternoon?” “Yeah, at that time, her mother hadn’t even gotten off the bus yet, how could she have gone to the restaurant?” “Did Amelia mistake someone else for her?” Mike frowned at the bus ticket in my mother’s hand, then looked at Amelia, perplexed. “Amelia, didn’t you say Scarlett’s mother went to Cloud Perch restaurant to freeload this afternoon?” “If the person who died in your restaurant isn’t her mother, then who is it?” 7 Faced with Mike’s question, Amelia’s face paled. “I, I don’t know either.” “I just saw that person kept muttering Scarlett Miller’s name, so I naturally assumed she was Scarlett Miller’s mother.” As she spoke, Amelia’s eyes suddenly filled with tears, and she said mournfully, “Now it seems Sister Scarlett must have been unhappy that you gave me the Cloud Perch restaurant, so she deliberately invited someone to cause trouble at the restaurant.” Hearing this, Mike’s brow immediately furrowed, his face as dark as if it could wring out water. Samantha nodded thoughtfully. “Brother, I think Amelia’s explanation makes sense.” “This must all be Scarlett Miller’s doing.” “Otherwise, she clearly knew the person who died wasn’t her mother, so why didn’t she speak up? Instead, she let us misunderstand?” “She must have a guilty conscience and didn’t dare to say anything!” I almost laughed at Samantha’s words. “I’ve been saying it all along, you just never listened.” Hearing this, Mike frowned. “What did you say?” “That the person who died in the restaurant was my mother?” “How could we possibly believe something so ridiculous?” The guests all nodded in agreement. “Exactly! How could the elder Mrs. Davies go to Cloud Perch restaurant to freeload? I think she’s just deliberately trying to annoy people!” “Most likely she’s jealous of Amelia’s competence, it’s her green-eyed monster acting up, so she came here to deliberately make a scene.” “Mr. Davies gave Amelia the Cloud Perch restaurant specifically because he admires her management abilities. What’s wrong with that?” “If not given to a talented person like Amelia, should it have been given to a housewife who only knows how to embarrass people?” Listening to the guests’ comments, Mike’s gaze at me grew even colder. “Scarlett Miller, I originally thought you were just lacking common sense. I never expected you to be so petty and malicious.” “Marrying a woman like you is truly the greatest shame of my life, Mike Davies!”

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At seventeen, Blaine and I discovered we were living inside a sappy romance novel. He was the hero; I was just an extra. Blaine, furious, tore the book to shreds. “I don’t care about being that hero, and I certainly won’t fall for anyone else!” he declared to me. At twenty-two, just as the book had foretold, I was set to leave the country. Blaine ran his fingers through my hair, a promise in his voice. “When you come back, we’ll get married.” At twenty-seven, I returned. To attend Blaine’s wedding to the heroine. 1. An hour before the banquet was set to begin, I stood in the hotel lobby, lost in thought before the welcome sign. “Groom: Blaine Miller; Bride: Summer Ashton.” It felt like seventeen again. I’d pulled an unmarked book from a library shelf, only to see the cover proclaim: “Hero: Blaine Miller; Heroine: Summer Ashton.” It was like a Pandora’s Box, terrifying to open, impossible to ignore. “What’re you looking at?” Seventeen-year-old Blaine had appeared out of nowhere. He leaned over me, resting his head loosely on my shoulder. “What idiot used my name to write a novel?” He snatched the book, grumbling as he read. “What a dumb name, Summer Ashton. The person I like is clearly named Autumn Hayes!” “Autumn, where’s my Autumn…” His voice grew softer, more hesitant, as he flipped through the pages, until his face turned stark white. The book chronicled a romantic love story between Blaine, at twenty-two, and the heroine. Everything in it, except for the future, perfectly mirrored our reality. And his Autumn? Just a footnote in the background, a memory. “I don’t care about being that hero, and I certainly won’t fall for anyone else!” Blaine’s eyes burned red with anger as his hands trembled, tearing the book apart. “Autumn, don’t you believe it. That person… that’s definitely not me…” I said nothing. Seventeen-old Blaine held me close, choking back sobs and muttering defiantly, “I hate summer.” “Autumn, from now on, I’ll hate summer more than anything.” The boy’s choked cries faded under the growing din. I snapped back to reality, feeling the sunlight creeping onto my shoulder. Following the golden ray, I looked out the window, a sudden realization hitting me. It was summer. 2. “A wedding in the middle of summer? It’s sweltering.” A woman wiped her brow as she entered the hotel, complaining to her companion. “Did you check the calendar? Today isn’t a particularly auspicious day. What were the Millers thinking?” “Blaine’s just eager to get married, I guess. I heard he proposed to her five times before she finally said yes!” her companion said, proudly sharing the gossip. “The Millers have been planning this wedding for years, so once she agreed, they pulled it all together in seven days.” “Wow, Blaine must really love that Summer Ashton girl…” The woman’s exclamations drifted away with their footsteps. I couldn’t help but wonder. How much did the Blaine in the book love Summer? So much that, after knowing her for only six months, he began quietly planning every detail of their wedding. So much that, despite their mutual affection, he spent five years cautiously making his way into her world, held back by his own fear. This was a man known for his impatience, his bold and unrestrained nature. Yet, he loved her so much that he had completely forgotten… At seventeen, he’d picked up a torn piece of the shredded book. On a blank space, he childishly scrawled: “I, Blaine Miller, hereby warn every author who spins tales: First, Blaine Miller is not to be a hero; second, the only name Blaine Miller loves is Autumn Hayes; third…” “Unwavering by any will, Blaine Miller will forever, always, only love Autumn Hayes!” “Mom, what does this say?” A little girl stood before the welcome wall, pointing at a line of text. I followed her gaze, finally noticing the words: “With this grand ceremony, we invite you to witness our decision to walk hand-in-hand through life. — Blaine Miller & Summer Ashton” 3. Fifteen minutes had passed. I was still foolishly standing at the entrance, lacking the courage to take a single step. “Autumn.” A familiar voice suddenly called from behind me. I had just turned around when I was urgently pulled by the arm. “It really is you… Autumn, you’re finally back.” I was enveloped in a slender, fragrant embrace, a silent sob catching in my ear. A bitter taste filled my throat, and I managed to choke out, “…Aunt Carol.” Blaine’s mother let out a distressed sob, then quickly covered her mouth. “Yes, yes, I’m so sorry, Autumn…” After high school graduation, it was Blaine’s eighteenth birthday. He’d invited me to the Miller estate under the guise of celebrating. The moment we stepped through the door, we ran into his mother. “Mom, let me introduce you. This is your future daughter-in-law, Autumn Hayes.” Blaine’s arm was around my shoulder, his tone confident and proud. “Autumn, this is Mom, your future mother-in-law… Mmph!” I stood on my tiptoes to cover Blaine’s mouth just as Aunt Carol delivered a sharp flick to his forehead. Amidst Blaine’s yelp of pain, we both paused, then exchanged smiles. That was my first meeting with Aunt Carol. It set the tone for all our interactions thereafter — Blaine causing mischief, me trying to rein him in, and Aunt Carol cleaning up. In the end, we all laughed. On my twentieth birthday, Aunt Carol gave me the Miller family heirloom jade bracelet. She solemnly promised, “Autumn, if Blaine ever wrongs you, I’ll kick him out of the house and disown him!” Today, Aunt Carol was apologizing to me. I hugged her back, gently patting her on the back. All I could offer in return was a quiet, “Aunt Carol, it’s not your fault.” 4. Aunt Carol was the first to let go. “Autumn, this isn’t the place for catching up.” She quickly wiped her eyes, regaining her composure as a polite host. “It’s hot outside; come in and sit down.” I lowered my head, letting her take my hand, and unexpectedly found myself stepping into the banquet hall. After just two steps, Aunt Carol suddenly stopped, her voice tense. “Autumn, don’t misunderstand…” I looked up, puzzled, and instantly saw the wedding decorations. Golden wheat ears intertwined with sunflowers, set against various autumn-colored flowers, creating a romantic rustic scene. Scarecrows stood on either side, country-style bamboo baskets filled with fruits and vegetables, and a crescent moon hung above the stage… It was like a Van Gogh painting. Like stepping from summer directly into autumn. My breath hitched. “Autumn, don’t misunderstand, the wedding was arranged quickly, this setup was done by Blaine years ago, there wasn’t time to…” I gripped Aunt Carol’s hand tightly, interrupting her abruptly. “Aunt Carol, where is Blaine now?” “Autumn…” My gaze fixed on the tip of that moon on the stage, where a single, striking wheat ear blossomed. Perhaps a single grain of wheat had slipped from God’s palm, carried by the wind to this very spot? With a flicker of undeserved hope, I stubbornly asked again, “Aunt Carol, where is Blaine now?” Aunt Carol fell silent. After a long moment, she sighed. “He’s taking wedding photos with Summer… They’re in Room 1019.” I turned, and without a moment’s hesitation, ran out. In the blur of rapidly passing, noisy scenes, a strange illusion struck me. Seventeen-year-old Blaine was waiting for me. 5. But in truth, my entire story with Blaine began when I was sixteen. The first day of junior year, after class assignments were posted, I walked into the classroom early, instinctively heading for the front row. A wisp of osmanthus scent suddenly drifted into my nose, like an invisible pull. I deviated from my usual spot, choosing a window seat in the back, closer to the osmanthus tree. The classroom slowly filled with noise, but I buried my head in a book until a commotion beside me. Blaine dramatically slammed his backpack onto the desk. He wore a crisp white shirt, looking down at me, a casual eyebrow raised as he asked, “Hey, classmate, what’s your name?” His expression and tone were nonchalant, yet I sensed a hint of displeasure. Confused, I glanced at him. “Autumn Hayes.” Blaine scoffed. “I asked for your name, not your age.” “…” I lowered my head, ignoring him. My first impression of him was: this guy isn’t very bright. During introductions, I stood on stage and said, “My name is Autumn Hayes.” He leaned back in his chair, lounging in the audience, and asked, almost looking for a fight, “Which ‘Hayes’?” I looked at him again, expressionless. “Like a field of hay.” He feigned understanding, drawing out a long, “Ohhh~” I walked back to my seat, bewildered, only to see him suddenly extend his hand toward me. “Nice to meet you.” He smiled, his eyes crinkling. “Hey, Miss Hay.” I tripped over the chair leg. And realized with a profound sense of despair: I was now desk-mates with a not-so-bright classmate. 6. Later, I learned that Blaine was the notorious troublemaker of our high school. The back-row window seat was unofficially his territory, and I had “stolen” it. When he asked for my name, his unspoken question was, “Hey, how dare you sit in my spot?” I thought it was incredibly childish. Perhaps because my parents worked abroad and I’d lived alone since freshman year, I was more mature than my peers, and quite reserved, with no friends. I wasn’t good at dealing with people like Blaine. He’d casually say to me, “Hey, Miss Hay, can I copy your homework?” He’d also, after playing basketball, walk through the crowded hallways directly to me. He’d smile and point to the untouched bottle of water in my hand, “Miss Hay, can I borrow a bottle of water? You don’t mind, right?” His demeanor and tone were laid-back, yet not presumptuous or rude. In fact, it was as if he considered himself exceptionally close to you. In my mind, I quietly categorized this trait as: bad boy charm. Until one day, I saw him reject a bottle of water offered by another girl on the sports field. His reason: “Sorry, but I never accept things from girls. Don’t want to cause any misunderstandings.” The girl was indignant. “But you took water from your desk-mate!” “That’s because I borrowed it from her,” Blaine said, tilting his head and smiling. “Besides, there’s no misunderstanding between us.” What did he mean? I froze a short distance away, experiencing a mental short circuit for the first time in my life. But the moment Blaine glanced sideways and saw me, his smile spread to the corners of his eyes. He walked toward me, step by deliberate step. “Miss Hay, are you wondering right now: Blaine seems to treat me a little specially?” He leaned slightly, hands on his knees, and peered up into my eyes. “No need to wonder.” His face glowed in the backlight as he declared, “Miss Hay, you are special.”

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My mom ran away pregnant twenty years ago, living under an assumed name, and gave birth to me. One day, I started dating a guy. I sent his photo to her. But my mom, looking panicked, told me to break up with him. Because his dad was my biological father. I was stunned: So, my boyfriend was actually my brother? In the end, Mom and I fled. My boyfriend and his dad went crazy. 1 “Mom, this is my boyfriend. Isn’t he handsome?” I sent my mom a photo. It was a stealth shot of my boyfriend, taken when he wasn’t looking. “Stardust and galaxies…” My phone rang. My mom. I answered, a hint of confusion in my voice. “Hey, Mom, what’s up?” Mom was silent for a long time on the other end. “Who’s the man in the picture?” “My boyfriend!” I boasted. “Handsome, right?” Mom’s voice sharpened. “I mean the one on the far side.” Mom’s tone was off. I sensed it immediately. I scrolled through my photo gallery to find the picture and realized I’d accidentally caught my boyfriend’s dad in the shot. I was surprised by Mom’s strong reaction, but I answered honestly. “That’s my boyfriend’s dad. We ran into him and sat down to chat for a bit.” Even now, I still cringe thinking about it. Blaine had come to pick me up from work for dinner, and we ran smack into his father. It was an impromptu meeting with the parents. Only then did I realize Blaine came from an exceptionally wealthy family. Because that face, his dad’s face, I’d seen it on TV. It belonged to the billionaire, Mr. Sterling Vance. “Mom, you have no idea how nervous I was. Blaine never even mentioned his dad was a billionaire.” Luckily, I hadn’t made a fool of myself. Silence continued on the other end of the line. I checked my phone; the call was still connected. “Mom, why aren’t you saying anything?” “Mom.” I called out several times before my mom finally spoke. What she said next utterly shocked me. “Autumn, you need to break up with Blaine.” I was bewildered. “Why?” Although they’d never met, I’d told Mom about Blaine more than once. Mom had always seemed quite pleased with him. Why the sudden change of heart? I poured myself a glass of water; my throat felt dry. After a long pause, Mom’s voice was melancholic. “Because he’s your father.” “Your biological father, that is.” The water I’d just sipped erupted from my mouth. I quickly set down the glass, luckily not choking. “Mom, you’ve got to be kidding me. You always said my dad’s grave had grass twenty feet high!” I was aghast. “No joke.” Mom sounded utterly resigned. “Autumn, you have to break up with him. No one in the Vance family is any good.” My mom’s voice was indignant. “Let me process this.” “Let me just process this.” I stared blankly at the succulents on the table. I never thought a cheesy novel plot would become my reality. My long-dead dad, resurrected. My handsome boyfriend, my actual brother? It wasn’t April Fools’ Day, was it? I wouldn’t give up. “Are you absolutely sure you’re not mistaken?” “No!” “So, you gave birth to Blaine?” “No.” “What?!” My voice shot up. “Mom, were you scammed?” Mom also seemed confused. “I don’t know. When I left him, he only had me.” Given that Blaine was three years older than me, and Mom, though usually a bit spacey, was undeniably beautiful… I was incredulous. “Mom, you didn’t get caught up in an affair, did you? Like those stories online where married men pretend to be single to date naive young women, only for the wife to show up later, revealing the deception?” Mom’s mind was still reeling. “Maybe. I remember hearing he was getting engaged, so I ran. Then I found out I was pregnant with you.” “Autumn, do you want to acknowledge him?” Mom asked, sounding torn. “No way. That jerk doesn’t deserve to be my father,” I retorted, disgusted. “He’s a billionaire, very rich,” Mom said seriously. “Still no. I love you the most,” I declared. To reassure her, I added, “Besides, I can earn enough to support you now.” Mom mumbled a few times, but ultimately said nothing more. 2. Having stumbled upon such a shocking secret, I suffered from insomnia for days. Blaine called me to go on dates, but I kept turning him down. I just didn’t know how to face him. A few days later, a sharp, impeccably dressed executive blocked my path. He introduced himself as Mr. Vance’s secretary. I sat in a coffee shop, stirring my drink. The secretary slid a card across the table to me. “There’s thirty million dollars on this card. Mr. Vance hopes you’ll never appear in Sterling City again.” I clenched my jaw. My goodwill toward the biological father I’d only met once plummeted to negative numbers. Even though I was planning to break up with Blaine anyway, I still felt a surge of indignation. I picked up the bank card with a sweet smile. The secretary opposite me briefly flashed a look of disdain, but quickly masked it. “Is this a voluntary gift?” “I wouldn’t want any unnecessary disputes later on.” The bank card spun once between my fingers. The secretary’s expression grew impatient, but he patiently explained. “Miss Hayes, rest assured, no one will pursue this. After all, the Vance family has vast assets; this small sum is nothing to them.” His tone was arrogant. I leaned back lazily in my chair. “The Vances are truly the wealthiest family in the country, quite generous. But I’ll still need Secretary Thorne to ask Mr. Vance to sign a voluntary gift receipt.” “After all, I’m just a common person, seeking peace of mind.” Secretary Thorne had no choice but to ask me to wait while he stepped aside to make a call. Blaine texted me: Baby, what are you doing? (Little bunny, sneaky.jpg) I didn’t reply. Soon, Secretary Thorne returned. “Mr. Vance agreed. Miss Hayes, please wait a moment longer.” Quickly, someone delivered the voluntary gift receipt, complete with Mr. Sterling Vance’s personal seal. I flicked the receipt, then stood up to leave. “Secretary Thorne, goodbye.” Secretary Thorne replied, “We hope, Miss Hayes, that you will uphold our agreement.” With thirty million dollars in hand, the smile on my face became a bit more genuine. “Of course.” “Don’t worry, I’ll break up with your eldest son the moment I get home.”

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1. My exceptional work had brought in millions for the company. Mr. Cruz, my boss, promised me a ten-thousand-dollar year-end bonus. But on the day the bonuses were handed out, he only gave me an envelope. Inside was his autographed photo. Just then, cheers erupted from my colleagues nearby: “Wow, my bonus is eight hundred and eighty dollars!” “Eight hundred and eighty? Mine’s eighteen hundred and eighty!” “Long live the boss, so generous!” Many people looked over at me. “Vivian, what did the boss give you? Is ten thousand in cash or gold bars?” I waved the autographed photo in my hand. My colleagues blinked in confusion, then a ripple of schadenfreude spread across their faces. I turned to Mr. Cruz. “Mr. Cruz, this isn’t a joke, is it?” He looked at me sternly. “What? Is my autographed photo not worth ten thousand dollars?” … Realizing Mr. Cruz genuinely intended to fob me off with a signed photo, my face fell. Whispers from my colleagues reached my ears. “Haha, Vivian just got played by Mr. Cruz.” “Serves her right. If she really got ten thousand, I wouldn’t be able to sleep from jealousy.” “But Vivian did work incredibly hard last year. Without her, our company wouldn’t have made so much money.” “What good is hard work? If the boss doesn’t like you, all that effort is for nothing.” I gritted my teeth, fuming, and returned to my cubicle. Staring at Mr. Cruz’s greasy autographed photo, the more I thought about it, the angrier I got. I crumpled it into a ball and tossed it into the trash. Just then, I heard Mr. Cruz’s emotionless voice. “Vivian, step into my office for a moment.” Holding back a surge of anger, I entered his office. He sat in his executive chair, slowly sipping tea, saying nothing, leaving me to stand there. A few minutes later, he finally said, his voice low, “The year-end bonuses were distributed, and I noticed you seemed a bit… displeased.” I didn’t bother with pleasantries. I just nodded. Of course. A ten-thousand-dollar bonus turning into an ugly photo of an old man? Anyone would be displeased. Mr. Cruz sighed. “Vivian, you still haven’t grasped my deeper meaning.” I blinked, looking at him, puzzled. Mr. Cruz continued, “You’re still young. You need to take a long-term view, not just focus on material things. Your eyes shouldn’t only be on money.” I almost laughed out loud. My eyes shouldn’t only be on money? I worked to earn money. Though I didn’t say it, my disdainful expression was not lost on Mr. Cruz. He snorted. “Vivian, you still don’t understand what I’m trying to say.” “Your primary task right now is to learn, to gain experience, to build your network.” “A ten-thousand-dollar bonus is indeed a lot. But compared to connections, it’s nothing.” “With good connections, let alone ten thousand, millions, tens of millions, are all within easy reach.” He stood up, patted my shoulder. “Vivian, do you think I give out my autographed photo to just anyone?” “This is my seal of approval, proof that I consider you one of my inner circle.” I remained silent, but quietly clenched my fists. Again with the empty promises. From the day I joined the company, Mr. Cruz always told me to work hard, saying he wouldn’t shortchange his “own people.” What followed was unpaid overtime, no holidays… a year of working day and night, only to receive a few platitudes and no tangible benefits. So, being one of his “own people” meant becoming a patsy. This time, I wouldn’t tolerate it. I took a deep breath, trying to keep my voice steady. “Mr. Cruz, today I received your photo. So, I’m one of your ‘own people’ now?” Mr. Cruz nodded vigorously. “Precisely.” I said, “Then, as one of your ‘own people,’ what benefits do you intend to give me? It can’t all be beneficial to you, can it?” Mr. Cruz’s face hardened. “Vivian, why do you keep bringing up benefits?” “Isn’t your leader’s trust enough?” I sneered. “If that’s the case, then perhaps you shouldn’t consider me one of your ‘own people.’” “Outsiders get bonuses worth thousands, but ‘insiders’ get nothing? Does that seem fair?” “According to your earlier promise, just give me the ten thousand dollars.” Mr. Cruz slammed his hand on the desk in anger. But I wasn’t intimidated; I stared him directly in the eyes. Mr. Cruz suddenly sneered. “Vivian, do you think I don’t want to give you a bonus?” “I’m afraid others wouldn’t agree.” I paused. “What does this have to do with anyone else?” 2. Mr. Cruz said coolly, “You’ve taken quite a few days off this year, haven’t you?” “My colleagues might not say anything, but they all have their thoughts.” “My not giving you a bonus today is to give them a clear explanation.” “You’re a senior employee. I didn’t want to say this to your face.” “But since you’re so oblivious, and even have the nerve to come asking for money, I have no choice but to be blunt.” My face flushed red, and I said exasperatedly, “I only took a week off in total, and I worked overtime afterward, so I’ve more than made up for it!” “Mr. Cruz, how many times have I worked overtime this year?” “I’m not boasting, but without me on 24-hour standby, ensuring the company’s data security, our company would have been hacked long ago.” Mr. Cruz said dismissively, “Vivian, isn’t maintaining the company’s network security part of your job description?” “You get paid to do your work. Is that a great achievement?” “You took a week off and you’re still acting self-righteous?” I said urgently, “Why did I take time off? I had to go to the hospital to take care of my mother. You know that.” “Mr. Cruz, doesn’t everyone have a sick family member?” “You should know, I’m counting on this ten thousand dollars for my mother’s medical treatment.” Mr. Cruz didn’t respond. Instead, he calmly took a sip of his tea. I suddenly understood. He dared to treat me this way because he knew my mother was ill. He was banking on me needing the money, afraid to resign, which is why he was so brazenly oppressing and humiliating me. Mr. Cruz pointed to the door. “Out. I’ll observe your performance for a while. If you do well, I might consider giving you the bonus.” More empty promises. I bit my lip and left. … After work, I went to the hospital. I had told my mother several times that once my year-end bonus came in, she could have her surgery. But now… At her bedside, I forced a smile, not wanting my mother to notice anything amiss. But my parents quickly sensed my low spirits. As I was leaving, my mother suddenly hugged me gently. “Vivian, it’s alright. Don’t put too much pressure on yourself.” I murmured a soft “Mm-hmm,” and tears streamed down my face, unstoppable. After my parents were asleep, I dialed a number. For the past six months, Starlight Systems, a Fortune 500 company, had been trying to poach me. But Mr. Cruz always said he was my mentor, that he had given me a platform to showcase my talents, and I should be grateful. I was too naive, believed these manipulative words, and never resigned from Mr. Cruz’s company. But now… once bitten, twice shy. I had seen his true colors and was no longer so naive and innocent. Starlight Systems was ecstatic to hear I was willing to switch jobs. The salary they offered was five times what Mr. Cruz paid me. The next day, I arrived at Mr. Cruz’s company on time, intending to hand over my work and fulfill my last duty. But to my surprise, my workstation was gone. In its place was a trash can. My personal belongings were haphazardly piled in a corner. My colleagues all looked at me with smug delight, as if they’d been waiting for my downfall. I stormed off to find Mr. Cruz, only to discover he was meeting with a client. Next to him, my colleague Charlotte was pitching their services. The client nodded repeatedly, saying, “Mr. Cruz, I hear you have a talented individual at your company named Vivian. She’s a leader in the industry.” “She must have contributed significantly to your company reaching this scale, right?” Mr. Cruz sneered. “Her? All reputation, no substance. Her skills are completely outdated.” Mr. Cruz pointed to Charlotte. “Actually, all our company’s data security is handled by Charlotte.” “As for Vivian, well, she just relied on her seniority to claim credit, essentially bullying new hires.” “From now on, any issues, just connect with Charlotte.”

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My sugar daddy used to call me the entertainment industry’s only pure white jasmine. He said it was because I was unassuming, well-behaved, sensible, and utterly devoted to him. But lately, he’d developed a strong preference for a gaudy peony. So, he gave his new favorite the two endorsement deals and a movie role he’d promised me. Many in the industry were waiting to see me fall. Only I breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, I had a good reason to find a new patron. And my new patron was already growing impatient. 1. My assistant, Chloe, called me in tears as I was getting my hair and makeup done for the evening’s charity gala. Chloe sobbed into the phone. “…The brand said Mr. Davies made the call. That dress has to go to Celeste.” Celeste was Raymond Davies’s new favorite, and she had set her sights on the seasonal couture gown from Elie I’d borrowed. Raymond, completely infatuated with her, naturally indulged her every whim. He told me, “Tonight is Celeste’s first big event like this. She wants to make a good impression.” “It’s just a dress, Vivian. Be generous.” He knew perfectly well that a director I greatly admired would be attending tonight. To make a good impression on them, I had started preparing a month in advance. But he didn’t care. Perhaps I’d been too good at acting all these years. Raymond was convinced I was madly in love with him, that I couldn’t live without him, so he acted with impunity. He was accustomed to my compliance and concessions. So he never considered whether I would be humiliated, or ridiculed. I immediately contacted my agent to reach out to various brands. My agent sent mass emails to a dozen brands, yet not a single one could lend me a dress. News of a gown being snatched just before a gala spread quickly through the industry. Some feigned sympathy. “Vivian, if there’s no time, there’s nothing you can do. There will be other opportunities.” “It’s just a shame, Director Olsen is the keynote speaker tonight, and they say she’s looking for the lead actress for her new film.” I pondered for a moment, then dialed Victor Sterling’s number. Then, under the sympathetic or gleeful gazes of others, I waited silently for three hours. Just as I was about to call it a night, I received a gown from Victor’s assistant. It was an Elie extra-season couture piece, but unfortunately, the style didn’t quite suit me. That night, Celeste wore the gradient blue “Starlight” gown, adorned with a thousand diamonds, and stole the show. Even before the banquet ended, articles proclaiming her “Goddess of Glamour” and “outshining everyone” were flying across the internet. Chloe, my assistant, fumed, “Vivian, you would have looked so much better in that outfit than her.” Soon, that remark reached Celeste’s ears. Celeste, champagne in hand, blocked my path, raising an eyebrow. “I heard Vivian wanted to wear my dress too?” “But Mr. Davies said this dress needs a fresh, young girl like me to truly capture the ‘Starry Elf’ vibe.” She deliberately eyed me up and down. “Vivian, you’re almost thirty, aren’t you? One has to accept their age.” I smiled gently. “Twenty-eight is certainly not considered young in the entertainment industry anymore.” “I hope, Celeste darling, you never reach my age.” Celeste paused, likely still trying to decipher what I meant. I had already given a polite nod and walked past her towards the backstage. By the time Celeste realized and texted to curse me out, I was already back at my apartment, finished with makeup removal, and preparing for a shower. I read the text and inwardly tsk-ed. Raymond’s new favorite was beautiful, but unfortunately, she lacked any real intelligence. 2. As I was blow-drying my hair after my shower, I received a string of messages from Chloe. She said an endorsement deal I’d been in talks for had been snatched by Celeste. And the film I was supposed to start shooting tomorrow? Celeste had been slotted in as well. They said she was the secondary lead, but her screen time wouldn’t be much less than mine. To be fair, Raymond was a decent sugar daddy. When he was infatuated with someone, he’d lavish them with the best things. I’d experienced that treatment myself. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have gone from being a complete unknown to a top-tier star in just five years. It’s just that his affections were fleeting. I’d seen many who fell genuinely in love with him, and none came to a good end. Once, someone cried and asked me, “Vivian, teach me, how do you tolerate the constant string of women around him?” I quietly handed her a tissue. “Probably because I never expected his genuine affection.” 3. I learned at a very young age that genuine affection is the most unreliable thing. My mother was deceived by what she called ‘true love.’ She spent her entire life as a mistress, firmly believing it was true love. She always told me that one day, my biological father would drive up in a Maybach to pick her up, and we would be acknowledged by his family. When I was little, I, too, was misled by her. I eagerly waited for my father to pick me up. Until I didn’t have enough money for school fees, and my mom took me to kneel and beg my aunt. Until I was too afraid to buy sanitary pads to save money, only daring to use toilet paper from the school bathroom. Until I burst into tears when someone accidentally knocked over the Children’s Day cupcake provided by the school. Only then did I understand that affection doesn’t fill your stomach. It can’t keep me alive. Affection is a joke. But that’s not what I told Raymond. I told him I offered him my true heart. Because I loved him, I never made demands, never put him in a difficult position. Because I loved him, as long as I could be by his side, I was willing to endure the parade of women around him. This, of course, wasn’t entirely a lie. I loved Raymond’s money, I loved his resources. I loved the red carpet he laid out for me, allowing me to rise quickly. Yes, how could that not be love? Raymond thoroughly enjoyed feeling so utterly adored by me. I thought he was a little pathetic. If he had ever truly loved someone, or been truly loved, he would have instantly seen that my fervent affection was an act. If you truly love someone, how could you tolerate a third person? Perhaps my acting was too good. All these years, people came and went around him, but he never replaced me. But now, I wanted to replace him. 4. A year ago, I realized that what Raymond could offer me was already very limited. I was already a top-tier actress. Many resources, I could get even without him. In fact, I could even obtain some resources that he couldn’t. But I didn’t immediately dump him. Firstly, even if he couldn’t bring me much positive benefit, he could easily ruin my career, and I couldn’t afford to make an enemy of him. Secondly, as a pure, devoted “white flower” to her patron, I should wait for the patron to grow tired, pay me off, and send me away, rather than actively firing the patron. Otherwise, it would appear too opportunistic, and what patron would dare to take me on in the future? Thirdly, I was still waiting for Raymond to get tired of me and give me a severance package. So, I waited. I waited for Raymond to give me a sufficient reason to break up. But this past year, he seemed to have settled down; there hadn’t been any new women around him. So, when I heard Raymond had given Celeste the two endorsement deals and a movie role he’d promised me, I breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, I had a chance to replace him. 5. I slept wonderfully, waking up early the next day to head to the set. Halfway through the opening ceremony, Celeste finally arrived, fashionably late. Raymond was the biggest investor in this production. As Raymond’s new favorite, Celeste naturally received the highest standard of treatment: a five-star hotel, a private assistant car, and a personal screenwriter. The director even agreed to several unreasonable scene additions without a word. Seeing the director’s attitude, I naturally kept my distance from Celeste. But I couldn’t stop Celeste from trying to provoke me. The third time she pushed me into the pond under the guise of filming, I pulled her in with me. Unfortunately, Celeste was a terrible swimmer. I merely smudged my makeup, but she actually swallowed several mouthfuls of the murky pond water. Raymond happened to be visiting the set, and Celeste immediately burst into tears, feigning distress. Raymond picked Celeste up in his arms, looking at me with a half-smile. “Looks like you’ve certainly grown a temper.” I stood in the pond, eyes downcast, my face pale, looking as pathetic as possible. Raymond said, “Apologize to Celeste, and I’ll let this matter go.” I softly said, “I didn’t do anything wrong.” Raymond, having been disrespected in front of everyone, lost his temper. “Then you can stand in the pond. When you’ve come to your senses, you can come out.” With that, he walked away with Celeste. Of course, I wouldn’t stand there foolishly. I waited for the paparazzi to get enough photos, then immediately “fainted.” Chloe rushed over, shouting for someone to take me back to the hotel. After I returned to my room and showered, Chloe’s press release had already gone out. “Raymond Davies Avenges New Love, Old Flame Becomes a Drenched Mess.” 6. I had just finished blow-drying my hair when my mom called. She asked me, “What’s wrong with you? You’ve been with Mr. Davies for five years, and you still can’t win against that hussy?” I rubbed my temple. “Don’t worry about it.” My mom said anxiously, “If I don’t worry about you, who will? I told you ages ago!” “You need to hurry up and have a son for Mr. Davies, and your future will be secure!” I sneered, “You had a son for that man, and in the end, don’t I still have to support you?” She said bitterly, “Sweetheart, Mom is doing this for your own good! How can you talk like that?” “If you don’t find a man while you’re young and beautiful, what will you do when you’re old?” I suddenly felt a deep sadness. All my efforts in acting, all my hard work, in her eyes, were inferior to simply finding a man. She, who had gained some advantages from men because of her good looks, then worshipped men like gods. Her first half of life, supported by a sum of money left by a man, she frugally raised me and my brother. In the latter half, she hoped I could find a man to continue supporting our family. She had been a parasite her entire life. And she encouraged me to become a parasite, clinging to others. She didn’t encourage me to strive, but rather to slide down an easy, perilous slope. She said that if I just let myself slide, I would reach a paradise of bliss. But in reality, it was nothing more than a mirage. So, I would not allow myself to slide.

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Emerging from the asylum, I found myself driving for hire. Never in a million years did I imagine tonight’s passengers would be my sister, Lydia, and my ex-wife, Cici. The car door opened, and a familiar perfume, mingled with the sharp scent of alcohol, wafted in. From the backseat, they chatted about corporate mergers and Swiss ski trips, their voices light and carefree. My throat felt dry. I couldn’t help but cough. “Still taking fares when you’re sick?” Lydia’s voice instantly cut through the air, laced with disdain. “There’s a pregnant woman in the car. Can you really afford to spread your illness?” I didn’t respond. Then, Cici suddenly looked up, her gaze meeting mine in the rearview mirror. Her voice was as gentle and composed as ever. “Aiden Caldwell, long time no see.” A suffocating silence descended on the car. “Aiden Caldwell?!” Lydia lurched forward. “You’re actually alive?!” “Cici, don’t you remember he had that… disease? Get out, quickly!” The car conveniently pulled to a stop in front of a sprawling luxury mansion. They practically fled, disappearing into the night. I sat in the car, my hand slowly pressing against my chest. Turns out, it didn’t ache here anymore. Time truly does smooth over everything. 1 I watched my sister, Lydia, rush away, pulling Cici along. “Cici, have you lost your mind? He had that awful disease! Come on, let’s just pretend we saw nothing tonight…” I sat in the driver’s seat, my hands trembling slightly. I fumbled for my cigarette pack, pulled one out, and lit it. Once, I’d smoked cigars worth thousands without a second thought. Now… The moment the cigarette ignited, I choked, bending over in a coughing fit. The car window was gently tapped. Cici had somehow returned, standing beside the car. She leaned in slightly, her voice hushed. “Aiden, it’s Julian’s birthday today. Mom and Dad are there. Do you… want to come in and see them?” I snuffed out the cigarette, my voice hoarse. “No need. Aren’t things clearer with one less person around?” “Don’t say that.” She gently shook her head. “You are, after all, a true Caldwell.” Before her words faded, the villa door swung open. A man strode out. “Cici! Who are you talking to?” “Didn’t I tell you not to bother with those shady characters from outside?” I didn’t listen any further. I slammed my foot on the accelerator and sped off. The cold wind swept through the car, making me shiver. The car finally stopped in front of a small pastry shop. The apprentice, Liam, pushed aside the curtain and stepped out, a smile on his face. “Boss, you’re back.” My second job began. Kneading dough, rolling wrappers, filling pastries, steaming them. After finishing all the work, I’d lie down for barely three or four hours before having to get up and drive again. These past years, I’d forgotten how to sleep. At three in the morning, the steam from the pastry shop finally dissipated. Liam squatted by the door, scrolling on his phone, and suddenly let out a “Tsk.” “Wow! Boss, look! The Caldwells are throwing a huge yacht party for their adopted son’s birthday! What a spectacle… And his wife is stunning.” The camera panned across the deck. Julian Caldwell was holding Cici by the waist, whispering something into her ear. She smiled beautifully, as beautiful as she had been on our wedding day. My father stood nearby, lovingly patting Julian’s shoulder. “Heard the Caldwell’s second son passed away eight years ago,” Liam mumbled casually. “Otherwise, none of this would be inherited by the adopted son, would it? It’s fate, I guess…” He sighed, envy coloring his face. “Forget houses, how many years would we have to sell pastries just to buy one of their car tires?” I looked at him and shook my head. That life, I knew it too well. But eight years ago, I was brutally kicked from those clouds straight into hell. The hands that pushed me down—one pair belonged to my new bride, the other, to my own family. 2 I lit a cigarette, taking a deep drag. Liam, wiping down tables, looked up at me. “Boss, your cough is getting worse. You should smoke less.” I rasped, “Can’t quit.” He sighed, turning back to his tidying, sweeping with a feather duster. “Boss, New Year’s is coming. I’m heading back to my hometown in a couple of days, so I’ll clean up the shop first.” As the duster reached under the bed, it suddenly hit something hard. He pulled out a dust-covered box. Opening it, he found a ring inside. Even the dust couldn’t dim its shine. “Boss, this looks really expensive,” Liam said, carefully holding it. “You should keep it safe.” He handed me the box. The moment my fingertips brushed the edge, I flinched back as if burned. Eight years ago, I had personally placed this ring on Cici’s finger. Memories flooded back. Once, she was just a little girl who had crawled out of earthquake ruins. My father and I were surveying the village and found her amidst the rubble. Seeing her plight, I sponsored her education. She wrote to me every month, her feelings in those letters growing clearer with each passing year. Later, I bought her a phone. She confessed her feelings over the phone, and I refused. She didn’t pester me, but instead studied harder, getting into a prestigious university abroad. When she returned, she was parachuted in as the youngest department manager in the company. Standing before me again, she said, “Aiden Caldwell, do I deserve you now?” This time, I nodded. News of my impending marriage reached home, and my father smashed his favorite teapot, my mother cried all night. I knelt in the family chapel for three days, eventually swaying them. On our wedding day, I announced her name to the world. The wedding dress was custom-made by a designer I hired for her, and I personally placed the ring on her finger. After the wedding, I gradually let her take over company affairs, transferring my shares, little by little, into her name. But at some point, fierce arguments began to erupt between her and my adopted brother, Julian Caldwell. They often bickered incessantly over projects. Cici once directly threw a cup of coffee in Julian’s face, sealing their animosity. I advised Julian to be more accommodating with Cici, but he just sneered at me. “Your taste in women is truly terrible.” I thought these two would remain at odds forever. Until I saw Julian wearing the same brand of clothes as me—a brand I frequently wore. Cici, unperturbed, said, “The store had a buy-one-get-one-free offer, so I picked one up for Julian too.” I was even happy when their relationship seemed to mend. Later, when Cici was kidnapped by a competitor, the first to rush to her rescue was Julian. When I arrived, I saw him tightly embracing a tear-streaked Cici. My heart felt heavy, but I said nothing. Cici later explained, “I was terrified then. No matter who arrived first, I would have reacted the same way.” The day after our wedding, I flew abroad for an urgent project. When I returned, I didn’t tell her, wanting to surprise her. I quietly walked to the glass conservatory I had given her. And then, I witnessed a sight I would never forget. My adopted brother, Julian Caldwell, had my new wife, Cici, pressed against the transparent glass. Their bodies were intimately entwined, the conservatory filled with an illicit spring glow. The gift box in my hand fell to the ground with a ‘thud.’ 3 I rushed forward and landed a solid punch on Julian. Cici frantically dressed, grabbing my arm. “Aiden, let me explain!” “Explain?” I shook off her hand. “Explain how you two ended up together? Do you think I’m blind?” I looked at Julian, then at Cici. In my extreme fury, a ridiculous glimmer of hope still remained—perhaps she was just momentarily confused. I extended my hand to Cici. “Come here. I’ll give you one last chance.” The moment she moved, Julian yanked her back behind him. My brother, who had always been so gentle with me, now had eyes filled with disgust. He looked at me and said clearly, “Aiden, I’m sorry. But Cici and I are truly in love.” “Just let her go.” I swung a punch at his face, and blood immediately gushed out. Cici shrieked, then raised her hand and slapped me across the face. After hitting me, even she seemed stunned. I looked at the fresh hickeys on her neck and suddenly felt a chill spread through my body. Julian wiped the blood, a cold smirk on his face. “Aiden Caldwell, what else can you do besides resort to violence? Face reality.” He paused, then each word landed like a blow. “And, she’s already carrying my child.” The last thread in my mind snapped. Julian and I lunged at each other. Cici rushed in to intervene, but I accidentally pushed her away with force. She fell heavily to the ground, and a pool of blood quickly spread beneath her. She had miscarried. In the hospital, my mother continuously wiped away tears. My father, his face grim, finally spoke. “Aiden, you were too impulsive. No matter how angry you are, you shouldn’t lay hands on a pregnant woman.” I looked at them, finding it all absurd. “She was carrying Julian’s child. A bastard with no blood ties to the Caldwell family, and you still want it?” “Silence!” My father roared, his cane striking my calf with brutal force. My leg buckled, and I crashed to my knees. My father’s chest heaved as he pointed his cane at me. “You animal, listen carefully!” “Julian’s father was a brother I fought alongside on the battlefield, a man who took a bullet for me! Before he died, he entrusted me with only one thing: to care for his only son!” He looked down at me. “In your mother’s and my heart, Julian is a Caldwell! If you dare touch him again, I won’t need anyone else; I’ll break your legs myself!” I knelt there, the pain in my leg nothing compared to the cold spreading through my heart. Turns out, twenty years of father-son affection couldn’t outweigh a single dying wish. My father sternly scolded, “Still talking back! If you hadn’t been so neglectful of Cici, how would she have ended up with Julian? You’ve been headstrong and willful since childhood, nothing like your brother, who is steady and sensible! Apologize to your brother!” Lydia chimed in. “Aiden, since Julian and Cici are truly in love, why don’t you just let them be?” “Dad!” my voice trembled. “His feelings are important, but can your biological son’s dignity be trampled so casually?!” I looked up, catching Julian and Cici exchanging glances. That fleeting moment of intimacy shattered my last shred of illusion. I abruptly stood up and rushed to the hospital bed, grabbing Cici’s wrist and dragging her off. “Let’s go! Let’s get out of here. I won’t hold anything against you!” Cici shrieked, falling to the floor. She grabbed the vase from the bedside table and violently smashed it over my head. “Let go of me!” The porcelain shattered on my scalp, blood mixed with cold water streaming down my face. My father’s bodyguards instantly rushed in, pinning my arms behind my back and forcing me to the ground. “Mad! He’s truly mad!” my father roared. “Send him to psychiatry! Lock him up and let him clear his head!” As I was pressed to the ground, the last thing I saw was Julian carefully shielding Cici in his embrace. I was sent to a mental asylum. Under the effects of sedatives, time became a blur. During my daily one-hour TV time, I always saw news of Julian and Cici. They had gone to the Maldives with my sister, their smiles blinding. I knew that if I kept resisting, I’d never get out. I started to be compliant, taking my medication diligently, accepting “treatment” on schedule. On the day of my discharge, Julian personally drove to pick me up. Cici sat in the passenger seat, and Lydia accompanied me in the back. The car drove for a long time before Lydia suddenly spoke. “Aiden, when I visited you last time, you’d already signed the divorce papers. This morning, Cici and Julian officially registered their marriage.” She shook her phone, the screen displaying their wedding photo. I felt a dizzy spell; I had no recollection of ever signing anything. “Stop the car!” “Aiden!” Lydia frowned in annoyance. “Can you please stop making a scene? Look at Julian, always so composed. No wonder Mom and Dad decided to hand the entire company over to him.” I suddenly grabbed the back of the front seat. “What about my shares?” Cici turned around, her voice still gentle. “Aiden, you were deemed mentally incapacitated during your illness. Mom and Dad thought it was for your own good to temporarily entrust your shares to Julian.” “That was my life’s work!” I stared at the back of Julian’s head. He scoffed. “Aiden, you don’t have the capability. Isn’t it better to just be a rich idler?” I looked at the people in the car. My wife, my “brother,” my sister. “Stop the car,” my voice was very soft. “Otherwise…” I suddenly leaned forward, grabbing a handful of Julian’s hair and yanking hard!

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The party was in full swing when my fiancé, Griffin, disappeared. I was about to go look for him when a stream of comments flashed before my eyes: 【Why is the villainess by the car all of a sudden? Our sweet heroine is still connected with the leading man!】 【I love that the villainess’s new car is about to become the love nest where the hero and heroine first taste the forbidden fruit.】 【Hehe~ Serves her right for trying to take the heroine’s place. Let her burn with rage!】 Our mutual friends quickly moved to stop me. “Griffin said he went to buy you a gift. He told you to go back inside and wait.” 【These friends are the real MVPs, covering for our favorite couple.】 【Our tall, handsome hero belongs to our girl Izzy! If I were there, I’d help them lie to the evil villainess too.】 【Damn, our boy Griffin is intense. He slammed her against the hood to kiss her and broke the bumper.】 I glanced up at the blistering midsummer sun. Then at my car, baking in the heat with the A/C off. I pulled out my phone and dialed my insurance company. “Hello, my bumper’s been hit. I need an agent here within the hour. I’ll be waiting by the car.” 【?! No! An hour? They’ll bake to death in there!】 1 The friends of Griffin and Isabelle frowned. “Aria, you’re going to wait out here for an hour?” one of them, Landon, asked. “It’s a hundred degrees out. You’ll get sunstroke. Just wait inside, we’ll let you know when the insurance agent gets here.” “No can do,” I said, shaking my head. “I look away for a second and my bumper gets smashed. What if I go inside and they do it again? This is a brand new car!” I turned and called out to the owner of the seaside restaurant. “Excuse me! Could you bring out a few large fans and a patio umbrella? And maybe twenty ice-cold watermelons? Oh, and bring out that big ice cream freezer too. We can enjoy the ocean view out here!” 【?? What’s with this sudden urge to watch the ocean? She’s out here chilling while our hero and heroine are going to die of heatstroke in that car!】 【This is bad. The A/C isn’t on. If they turn it on now, with everyone gathered here, they’ll be exposed!】 【I’m so stressed! It’s a hundred degrees outside, which means it could get up to one-thirty, one-forty inside that car! Can’t this evil witch just drop dead? All she does is cause trouble!】 “Aria Collins.” Landon, the de facto leader of Griffin and Isabelle’s friend group, stepped in front of me. “None of us are interested in watching the ocean. If you’re not coming inside, you can stay out here by yourself.” He gestured for the others to follow him. They all shot me a look of pure contempt, scoffed, and started walking back toward the restaurant. 【Yes! I love how they just turned their backs on her!】 【Landon’s got her number. The way Aria sucks up to them, she’ll be running back to apologize the second they leave.】 【This will give our favorite couple the chance to sneak out!】 My fists clenched at my sides. It was true. I was a suck-up. I did everything I could to get Griffin and Isabelle’s friends to like me. They were the ones who had grown up with Griffin and Isabelle. They were the tight-knit circle. I was the outsider, the latecomer. But we were engaged when we were five years old! 【Can the evil villainess just die already? So what if her parents were swept away by a flood saving our five-year-old hero?】 【It was an honor for her parents to save him. Not every NPC gets that kind of storyline, okay?】 【Besides, she’s the villain. The only reason the hero’s father felt guilty enough to set up the engagement was because her parents died. Does she really think she’s worthy of him?】 【She hit the jackpot and still acts like the world owes her. Ugh.】 【Don’t worry, guys. The villainess will keep tormenting our heroine and die a horrible death in the end! Just keep watching!】 The mention of my parents sent a shard of ice through my heart. I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing the pain down. When I was five, I didn’t know Griffin already had a childhood sweetheart. It wasn’t until after we got engaged in college that I realized he and Isabelle shared a whole life, a circle of friends, weekly parties, and yearly vacations that I was never a part of. I tried so hard to break into that circle. But whenever I showed up, the atmosphere would instantly freeze over. I’d bring them expensive gifts, and they’d offer a dismissive “thanks” before tossing them aside, never even bothering to take them home. I’d offer to pay for everyone to go on a trip, but Griffin and Isabelle would always be the ones to choose the destination. Just like this seaside barbecue. My eyes, burning with unshed tears, fixed on my new car. The comments said I would die a horrible death? Fine. Let’s see who dies first. “What are you still doing out here?” Landon snapped, his brow furrowed in disapproval. “Are you really going to sit here all day?” 2 “Yes. You guys go on ahead.” They all froze, exchanging bewildered glances. Normally, this was the moment I would have panicked, terrified of their disapproval, and scrambled to follow them. But I paid for the meal. I covered their travel expenses. Why was I always the one groveling? Seeing that I wasn’t budging, Landon shot a quick, nervous glance at my car, which appeared perfectly normal from the outside. His voice grew harsher. “Griffin told you to wait inside. You’re already a nobody in this group. If you can’t even follow a simple instruction, don’t bother coming out with us again.” 【Oof, what a burn! Landon knows exactly how to hit her where it hurts.】 【Everyone knows her biggest dream is to be accepted into the hero and heroine’s social circle.】 “Fine.” My single-word reply left them stunned. I heard one of them whisper, though not quietly enough. “Is it just me, or is she… different today?” Another one tried a different tactic. “Aria, stop making a scene! This is only going to make Griffin hate you more!” 【That’s right. The villainess can lose everything except the hero’s love.】 【Lmao, classic female rivalry brain. You keep doing you, girl.】 【If I didn’t know she was going to die miserably in the end, I would’ve stopped reading out of pure rage by now.】 I frowned at the stream of text. Landon smirked, thinking he had me. “Now that you understand, hurry up and come inside. Everyone’s waiting for you.” “Then let them wait,” I said, casually sipping my watermelon juice. “We can all wait together. If you don’t want to, you can go inside.” Silence. They were completely speechless. 【?! What the hell! Did this woman have a lobotomy today? Has she never seen the ocean before? Didn’t she see enough water when her parents were swept away by the flood?】 【Get lost, you bitch! Our girl Izzy is about to pass out in Griffin’s arms!】 【Turn on the A/C, Izzy!】 【Are you dumb?! If she does that, everyone will know someone’s in the car! They’re still… occupied!】 【Not gonna lie, the sweat glistening on our hero’s muscles is pretty hot. drools】 “Aria, please. We’re begging you, okay?” For the first time ever, I heard something like surrender in their voices. But I wasn’t biting. “My brand new car gets its bumper smashed, and I’m just supposed to let it go? What if someone did it on purpose? If I leave, what’s to stop them from doing something worse?” “But…” 【Lmao, ‘smashed.’ She’d probably have a heart attack if she knew it was because our hero was kissing our heroine too hard against the hood.】 【I can’t wait to see her face when she finds out the truth and has a total meltdown! Hahaha!】 【Yeah, but still, they need to get out of there. Our girl is starting to lose consciousness.】 【Don’t worry, they’re the main characters, they won’t die. Besides, being a little delirious will only make the experience more intense~】 “What are you all doing gathered out here?” A familiar voice. I paused. My childhood friend… Owen? 3 “Oh, Aria, you found out? I was just passing by and accidentally bumped your car. I was about to come find you to apologize!” “So it was you,” Landon interjected immediately. “You should have said something sooner. Aria thought someone did it maliciously and already called her insurance.” “Haha! I was in a hurry, figured I’d tell you when I got back!” Owen said, moving to pull me up. “My bad, this meal’s on me. Come on, big bro will treat you to whatever you want inside!” “No. I’m waiting for the insurance agent.” Landon was getting agitated now. “It’s Owen, Aria! Do you have to be so formal about everything?” Owen chimed in, “It’s scorching out here. Don’t stay in the sun, your skin is so delicate, you’ll burn. How much is it? I’ll pay for it. Just let me take you inside first.” “No need. We’ll go through insurance. You don’t have to spend a dime.” 【Ugh, I’m so annoyed! Is her ass glued to that chair? What a buzzkill!】 【Our heroine and hero still have the second act to get to! Nobody wants to watch you sit there!】 “Why are you being so polite with me?” Suddenly, my feet left the ground. The world turned upside down as he threw me over his shoulder. Owen… was carrying me off like a sack of potatoes! 【Yes! Go, second male lead, go!】 【Owen, you’re the man! If the villainess won’t cooperate, use force! Get her out of the way!】 【Please, universe, give me a guy like him! He knew the heroine was in trouble and came to the rescue immediately, no hesitation, even if it meant turning on his childhood friend!】 【Dude, it’s our heroine. What man could possibly resist her?】 【If I were him, I’d help our girl Izzy too.】 “Owen, put me down!” I yelled, grabbing onto the doorframe of the restaurant. Owen just chuckled and pried my fingers away. “We grew up together, don’t be shy now.” 【Go, Owen, go! Griffin has already helped Isabelle get her clothes back on! Carry the villainess inside so they can get out!】 【Too bad this bitch ruined the mood. No second round for them now.】 I gritted my teeth. And sank them into Owen’s back. Hard. “AGH!” He dropped me. Blood was already seeping through his shirt from the bite mark. 【!! Is this bitch part dog?】 【Why is she going back?! Ahhh, our heroine is about to pass out! If they don’t get out now, someone’s going to die!】 【Griffin is about to faint too, but he’s still holding her hand so tightly. I’m literally crying.】 “Are you insane? When did you start biting people?!” Owen yelled, clutching his wound. “The insurance agent is on their way,” I said coldly. “If you want to go inside, go. Don’t touch me again.” “You!” Owen looked at his blood-stained hand. “Are you coming inside or not?” “Not.” “Fine.” He gritted his teeth and pulled out his phone. “Hello? 911? I’ve been bitten. Yes, it was an assault. You can be here in three minutes? Great. Please hurry, I’m afraid she’ll attack someone else.” 【Sweet! Griffin and Isabelle might be fading, but they can hold on for three more minutes!】 【The cops will take her away, and our two lovebirds can finally escape!】 【The insurance guy is still thirty minutes out. Hahaha, serves her right. The villainess is about to be replaced!】 Sure enough, a police car pulled up just a few minutes later. Landon and the others immediately pointed at me. “It was her! We all saw her bite Mr. Roberts! We can be witnesses!” “That’s right! We’ll go down to the station with you and give our statements!” 【Aww, these friends are so loyal. I’m tearing up.】 【They’ve all known each other since they were kids. You don’t see friendships like that anymore.】 An officer looked at the wound on Owen’s back and frowned. “Ma’am, your actions constitute a serious assault. Please come with us for questioning.” “But…” Before I could say another word, I felt the cold click of handcuffs on my wrists. They started to lead me toward the patrol car. 【Yes! They’re already in the trunk!】 “I didn’t assault him! Officer, please, just wait! I’m begging you, just wait a little longer!” “You injured a man this badly. We can’t leave you out here where you might pose a threat to others. Get in the car.” “But…” 【Hurry, hurry! They’ve unlocked the trunk from the inside! As soon as she’s in the car, they can climb out!】 CRUNCH! A loud bang echoed as a car slammed into mine from behind. “Aria Collins, don’t you know how to park? Why did you leave your car in the middle of the road?!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391083”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel