Author: Momo Chan

My mother was the Donna of the Moretti Family. Her favorite saying was, “There can be no favoritism in this family.” Which was why she always treated my cousin Vivian better than she treated me. She brought home a rare pair of black opal bracelets from overseas, only to fasten them around Vivian’s wrists right in front of me. “They look better on Vivian. You’re too tanned. Don’t waste them.” When the Bellandi Family sent us two bottles of vintage wine, Mother gave both to Vivian before I even saw the bottles. “You haven’t even mastered basic table manners. Giving them to you would be a waste.” Then, at tonight’s family banquet, Donna Lucia Bellandi proposed an engagement between her eldest son and me. Mother set down her wineglass and cut Lucia off on the spot. “Donna Lucia, please withdraw your proposal. Seraphina has no manners, a terrible temper, and no sense. She isn’t worthy of your son.” Every eye in the room turned toward me. Their stares felt like needles piercing my skin. Then Mother’s thoughts entered my mind. [So Seraphina has feelings for the Bellandi heir. But if the Bellandis choose her, everyone will assume Vivian was never good enough to be considered. Vivian already has no parents to stand behind her. I can’t let her suffer that humiliation too.] [I’m criticizing Seraphina for her own good. It will keep her out of the Bellandi power struggle and spare Vivian any humiliation.] In that moment, the last shred of hope I had for her vanished. Mother protected the entire Moretti Family, and everyone under her command respected her. But she had never once protected me. So be it. I would go to the West Coast with the man who truly loved me. From now on, half a country would lie between us—and whatever bond remained between mother and daughter would end here. … “Valentina, that’s enough.” The woman who spoke was Elena Bellandi, the family’s former Donna and the current Don’s ex-wife. After Donna Lucia replaced her, Elena left for the West Coast with her younger son, the heir’s half brother. Elena gave Mother a troubled look. “Seraphina isn’t nearly as bad as you claim. If only you knew—” “Elena!” Mother cut her off. “I know exactly what kind of person my daughter is.” “Vivian is different—” She drew Vivian to her side and smoothed her hair. “She’s sensible and knows her place. I’ve already decided to transfer the family shares and territory dividends originally reserved for Seraphina to Vivian. She will represent the Moretti Family in the marriage alliance with the Bellandis.” I looked up at Mother. [Lucia only cares about the Moretti Family’s power. If one of our girls must marry into her family, Vivian will do just as well.] [Once Seraphina’s shares and territory dividends are transferred to Vivian, she’ll have every qualification to become the Bellandi Family’s future Donna.] At last, I understood. Mother had destroyed my reputation in public simply to clear Vivian’s path. My family shares, my territory dividends, and even my right to choose this alliance had all been handed to Vivian. Whispers quickly spread through the room. “I’d heard Donna Valentina favored her niece. Now I’ve seen it for myself…” “You can’t put all the blame on her mother. If her own mother speaks of her that way, the girl must have done some disgraceful things in private…” Donna Lucia frowned slightly. After a few seconds, she said, “If Donna Valentina is willing to give Vivian the Moretti shares and territory dividends, then Vivian is qualified for the alliance. She will have the engagement.” Vivian raised her glass. “Thank you for your approval, Donna Lucia.” “However…” Donna Lucia looked at me. “Seraphina is still the biological daughter of the Moretti Don and Donna. She could also move into the Bellandi residence as collateral for our families’ partnership.” Everyone understood Donna Lucia’s plan. Vivian was only a niece, so the engagement alone did not carry enough weight. If the Bellandis kept the Don and Donna’s biological daughter under their roof, the Morettis would not dare betray them. They would also be forced to support the eldest son in his struggle with his brother. Elena shot to her feet. “Donna Lucia’s concerns are understandable, but a marriage must still respect the young woman’s wishes.” Everyone looked at me again. I stood and faced Lucia calmly. “Thank you for the proposal, Donna Lucia, but I won’t accept this marriage arrangement, and I have no intention of moving into the Bellandi residence.” After the banquet, Mother summoned me to her study. She poured a cup of coffee, pushed it toward me, and spoke with surprising gentleness. “You behaved reasonably tonight. At least you knew better than to fight Vivian for that marriage.” My voice trembled. “When you humiliated me in front of everyone tonight, did you ever think about how people would see me afterward?” Mother slammed her palm on the desk, sending coffee over the rim of the cup. “Why must you compete with Vivian for everything? Her parents aren’t here, and she’s terrified of being looked down on. ” “You’re the only daughter your father and I have. You’ve lacked nothing since the day you were born. What is so difficult about letting her have this one thing?” I looked down at myself. I lived in the most remote bedroom in the estate, used worn-out belongings, and even wore the clothes Vivian rejected. What did I have, really? My nose stung. Ever since I could remember, I had been able to hear Mother’s thoughts. I used to make excuses for her. She was the Donna of the Moretti Family, and everyone watched her every move. Vivian had lost her parents, so it was only right for Mother to give her a little more care. That was why, every year, the moment Father’s birthday gifts for me arrived, Mother had them taken to Vivian’s room. Back then, my parents were constantly away handling family business, sometimes for months at a time. I kept telling myself they were simply busy, not that they did not care. When the family’s position finally stabilized and Mother no longer had to travel constantly, I thought everything would get better. But once she stayed home, I discovered that I still had to surrender anything Vivian wanted. On Vivian’s eighteenth birthday, Mother postponed an emergency confrontation and drove back from an out-of-town base just to fasten a diamond necklace around her neck. On my eighteenth birthday, I waited from morning until late at night. Mother never came. She sent only a message. “One of the family’s shipments was hijacked. I can’t leave. Celebrate without me.” That day, I finally understood. There was room in Mother’s heart for the family, for her people, and for Vivian. But never for me.

Mother leaned back in her chair as though she were dealing with a disobedient subordinate. “You already refused to move in with the Bellandis, so forget about marrying into their family.” She took a background file from a drawer and pushed it across the desk. “This is Marcus, a driver in the family fleet. I checked his background. He has no enemies and won’t be dragged into any power struggle. If you marry him, you’ll at least have a peaceful life.” I stared at the file and laughed. Vivian could take my shares and dividends, then marry the Bellandi heir. Yet I, the biological daughter of the Don and Donna, was supposed to marry a family driver. And Mother somehow called that doing what was best for me. Father would never agree to this. He had told me himself that no one—not even the Donna—had the right to decide my future for me. “I won’t marry him.” “Father is still overseas. You can’t decide my marriage on your own.” Mother slapped me. My head snapped to the side, my ears ringing. “Seraphina, don’t forget who your mother is.” “Your father being away is exactly why I need to settle this quickly. By the time he returns, the contract will already be binding.” I clenched my teeth and refused to let the tears fall. I turned away from the study and hurried back to my room. Mia, the personal maid who had cared for me since childhood, was the only person in the estate who truly cared about me. The moment she saw me enter with a hand over my cheek, she rushed to my side. “Seraphina! Your face—” She pressed an ice pack to my cheek, crying as she did. “Donna hit you, didn’t she? You’re her own daughter. Why does she always protect an outsider?” Only then did my tears finally fall. Mia suddenly remembered something and picked up a black envelope from the table. “Elena Bellandi had someone deliver this.” I took the letter and opened it. Inside was an obsidian ring engraved with the Bellandi crest. I recognized it. It belonged to Luca Bellandi. I closed my fingers around the ring. Luca was still waiting for my answer. Over the next few days, Moretti Estate busied itself preparing for Vivian’s engagement party. Mia stood in my room, her face red with anger. “Donna emptied the jewelry vault. She even gave Vivian the emerald necklace your grandmother left you.” Her anger rose with every word. “That was meant for her own granddaughter. What right does Vivian have to it?” Once, it would have hurt. Now, I no longer cared. I was lost in thought when footsteps sounded outside my door. It was Mother’s assistant. “Miss Seraphina, Donna would like you in the sitting room.” Mother had already instructed the lawyers to draft documents transferring all my shares and dividends to Vivian. The documents had not even been signed, yet the servants had begun calling Vivian the future Mrs. Bellandi. They treated me with even more contempt than before. The moment I entered the sitting room, Mother threw a wine-stained wedding gown at my feet. “Explain.” I remained where I was. “Explain what?” She pointed to the broad red-wine stain and fixed me with a cold stare. “Why does Vivian’s wedding dress look like this?” I gave a small laugh. “Do you handle family business without looking at evidence too, Donna?” Mother paused, then sneered. “You’ve certainly learned how to talk back.” She pointed at a maid being guarded by security. “She saw you enter Vivian’s dressing room last night.” “You were jealous because you couldn’t marry into the Bellandi Family, so you deliberately ruined Vivian’s dress.” I turned to the maid crouching on the floor. “What’s your name?” “Bella.” “What time did you see me last night?” “Nine… nine fifteen.” “Where?” “Outside the second-floor dressing room.” “What was I wearing?” Bella’s voice shook. “A pale purple dress…” I smiled. Behind me, Mia suddenly spoke. “You’re lying!” “The second-floor hallway lost power last night. The emergency lights weren’t restored until ten.” “There are no windows there. How could you see the color of her dress in the dark?” Bella began to tremble and immediately panicked. “Don’t turn me over to security! I spilled the wine by accident while changing the glasses. I was afraid I’d be fired, so I lied…” Vivian sprang up and slapped Bella across the face. “How dare you frame Seraphina?” Then she turned to me, her face full of remorse. “Seraphina, I’m sorry. Bella works for me, so I apologize on her behalf.” She sounded sincere, but there was no remorse in her eyes. Mother had already lost patience. She only wanted the matter over. “The misunderstanding has been cleared up. That will be all.” I looked at her. “A servant deliberately framed a member of the family. Our rules require severe punishment. If you let this pass, anyone will think they can accuse me of anything.” Everyone waited for Mother to decide. [Why is this girl so stubborn? Of course I know what happened. But that maid belongs to Vivian. If I punish her severely, Vivian will be humiliated.] [So Seraphina suffers a little injustice. It won’t kill her.] Mother raised a hand. “Bella disclosed internal information and falsely accused a family member. Terminate her employment and hand her over to security for investigation.” Bella was dragged away in tears. Vivian stood there biting her lower lip, her eyes reddening again. Then Mother spoke. “Vivian’s engagement party is in three days. There isn’t enough time to have another dress made. Give her the wedding gown your grandmother left you.”

My fingers clenched. That gown had belonged to my grandmother. Father had entrusted it to me, hoping I would one day wear it when I married someone who truly loved me. “Why should I? Her servant made the mistake. Why should I clean up her mess?” Mother frowned as though she were discussing something perfectly ordinary. “We’re family. Why divide everything into yours and hers? Vivian is marrying into the Bellandi Family. We cannot let others laugh at her. You’re only marrying a driver. You have no need for such an expensive gown.” Then she muttered, “I don’t know what Alessandro was thinking. Something that valuable should have gone to Vivian, not you…” Her words pierced my heart like a needle. In Mother’s eyes, I did not deserve anything good. Tears spilled down my face as I shouted, “Because Father knew it was meant for his daughter! If he were here, he would never let you take what’s mine and give it to Vivian!” Mother’s face went white. My voice shook. “Sometimes I truly wish… I wish you’d stayed in South America and never come home.” Then I would not have kept hoping, only to have every hope shattered again. Mother flew into a rage. “Take her to the basement. Today she’ll learn what happens when someone defies the Donna.” Mia immediately stepped in front of me and pleaded, “Donna, please stop! Seraphina has been frail since childhood. She falls seriously ill every winter. She can’t survive this kind of family punishment.” That only made Mother angrier. “Nonsense! She has lived with the Moretti Family all her life. I arrange doctors and supplements for her every year. How could she possibly be frail?” I nearly laughed. Her ledgers showed exactly how many of the supplements and gifts she sent from overseas each year were meant specifically for Vivian. Almost nothing actually reached me. The servants followed Mother’s example. Everything in Vivian’s room was the finest money could buy. When my cup cracked, no one replaced it. When the heat in my room broke during winter, the housekeeper delayed repairs for a month. No one cared about my education either. The language tutors and etiquette instructors hired by the family taught only Vivian. Mother refused even to let me sit in on their lessons. I stopped Mia, walked to the bench in the center of the basement, and bent over it. Mother’s angry voice came from behind me. “Stop acting as though you’ve been wronged. Today you’ll learn that the Moretti Family’s rules are not to be defied.” Again and again, she brought down the black leather belt a guard handed her. Within a few strikes, my shirt tore open and warm blood ran down my back. Cold sweat soaked my hairline, and even my breathing began to shake. As my consciousness blurred, only one thought remained: Let this beating be my way of giving back the life she gave me.

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Chapter 1 The year Caleb’s car crash left him paralyzed and shattered his career, I sold my grandfather’s house and worked as a janitor for eight grueling years. I scraped together the astronomical medical bills to pay for his surgeries, standing by him until he reclaimed his title as the World Boxing Champion. At his victory gala, he held the championship belt, tears in his eyes as he made a public confession. “I want to thank the love of my life, who never gave up on me. May we spend the rest of our lives together.” My eyes welled with tears. I thought my years of suffering had finally paid off. But as I stood up, the spotlight bypassed me entirely. It landed on his team doctor, Chloe. I froze, the deafening thud of my own heartbeat drowning out everything else in the room. The giant screens began playing the “Champion’s Loving Wife: Rehabilitation Diary.” It was a slideshow of my work. My late-night muscle response logs, my gait training protocols, my handwritten breakdowns of boxing combinations. But the most blinding thing of all was the final slide. It prominently displayed a marriage certificate for Caleb and Chloe, dated five years ago. Caleb gripped my trembling shoulders tight. His eyes held a mix of pleading and a sharp warning. “Sarah, the public needs a PR-friendly love story. The medical miracle and the boxing legend. I can’t present a janitor to the world as my partner.” “No one will believe you if you make a scene right now. Why fight over a moment of pride? I’ll buy your grandfather’s house back for you.” I felt like I’d been struck by lightning, staring in sheer disbelief at the man in front of me. Eight years of pouring my heart, soul, and blood into him had become nothing more than leverage to keep me quiet. Walking out of the ballroom, my hands shook as I looked at the overseas job offer on my phone. Without hesitation, I tapped Confirm. [Ms. Davis, your flight and visa will be ready in three days. Please stay in touch. Welcome to the team!] … I tracked down my supervisor at the cleaning company and told her I had a family emergency. I asked to settle my pay for the month early. She handed me a few bills, her eyes full of pity. At 2:00 AM, Caleb walked into the apartment reeking of alcohol. Seeing me sitting on the edge of the bed, his brow furrowed. “It’s late. Why aren’t you asleep?” He quickly walked over. When he saw my raw, blistered heels, a flash of guilt and heartache crossed his eyes. Just like when he was paralyzed, he expertly grabbed a cotton swab and lifted my foot to treat the wounds. “How did you let it get this bad without treating it?” His voice was soft, laced with the tenderness I used to know so well. When the swab touched the raw skin, I flinched. He immediately lightened his touch, leaning down to gently blow on the wound. “Chloe standing up there… it was just for the sponsors and the cameras,” he said softly as he applied a bandage. “The public isn’t going to accept a champion whose partner is a janitor. It would ruin my upcoming endorsement deals.” He said it so matter-of-factly, like it was a universal truth everyone should just accept. I looked down at him, feeling an icy chill seep into my bones. Eight years of day and night care. Selling my grandfather’s house to pay for his surgeries. Countless sleepless nights designing his rehab routines. All of that absolute devotion was only fit to exist in the shadows of his private life. He detached the commemorative medallion from his championship belt and pressed it into my palm. “You deserve at least half the credit for this medal, Sarah. I know that.” I looked down at the gleaming gold surface. “Caleb, since you’re already married… let’s just end this.” His hand paused. He avoided my gaze, standing up to close the first-aid kit. “Sarah, where else would you go? You don’t have any family left. You sold your house for my surgery.” “Don’t overthink this. Chloe and I aren’t what you think.” “Sarah, in my heart, you are my only true wife.” He turned around and pulled his suit for tomorrow out of the closet. “I’m flying overseas the day after tomorrow for an exhibition match. Pack my gloves and backup meds.” “Chloe is coming with me as the team doctor. Put the medical files she needs in my suitcase too.” He listed his demands, his tone completely casual. Seeing me sitting there motionless, his hand froze halfway through untying his tie. He fell silent for a moment, then walked over and pulled me into his arms. “Sarah, I haven’t forgotten my promise to you.” He rested his chin on the top of my head. “You want a home. You want to buy back your grandfather’s house. I remember.” Smelling the unfamiliar, expensive perfume on him, I stood rigidly in his embrace. “I already bought the house back.” He let go of me and pulled an old, brass key from his suit pocket. “The paperwork is still being processed. I was going to give it to you tomorrow as a birthday surprise.” “Take tomorrow off. I’m taking you home.” Home. Such a beautiful word. My hand clamped tightly around the key. “Okay,” I rasped. Caleb smiled in satisfaction and turned to walk into the bathroom. Early the next morning, I stood in front of the familiar red wooden door, my eyes stinging with tears. But just as I pulled out the key, the door was pulled open from the inside. Chloe was standing in the entryway, wearing silk loungewear and slippers. Seeing me, she didn’t look surprised at all. Instead, she flashed a flawless smile. “Oh, Sarah! You’re here.” She waved a catalog at me. “Help me decide. Should we do the living room in champagne, or a dusty blue?” I froze, my eyes locked onto her loungewear—an outfit that screamed she was the lady of the house. I turned to look at Caleb. He avoided my eyes. “Champagne. It’ll make the room brighter.” In the corner of the courtyard wall, there was a height chart my grandfather had carved for me, notch by notch. “This old wall is falling apart. It smells like mildew,” Chloe complained, covering her nose. “I hired a crew. They’re repainting the whole thing tomorrow.” She pointed to the old wicker chair my grandfather left behind in the corner. “And that junk chair. Throw it out with the trash tomorrow.” I stared at the wicker chair, my fingernails digging into my palms. When Caleb was paralyzed, he used to smash everything in the house in a fit of rage. I was the one who forced him into that chair, telling him over and over again that his legs would heal. Now that he could stand, the chair was just garbage. “Caleb.” I turned around, my voice hoarse. “Why is she here?” Caleb walked over, reaching out to take my hand. I stepped sideways, avoiding his touch. He sighed heavily, lowering his voice. “Sarah, I really did buy the house back.” “But the deed is temporarily under Chloe’s name.” My head snapped up. I stared at him in utter disbelief. “She and I are legally married, after all,” he said, his tone meant to be soothing. “Putting the house under her name as a marital asset saves us a massive amount of unnecessary taxes.” “Once my overseas tour is over next month, I’ll have Chloe transfer the deed to you.” My voice shook uncontrollably. “This is the only thing in the world I wanted back. You’re a multi-millionaire now. Are you really hurting for that tax money?” Caleb frowned, reaching out to wipe my tears, trying to coax me. “Sarah, I’m under a lot of pressure too. Besides, it doesn’t really matter whose name is on the paper.” “You can move in whenever you want. Chloe stays downtown most of the time. She won’t bother you.” Leaning against the doorframe, Chloe let out a soft laugh. “Yeah, Sarah. But that south-facing bedroom on the second floor? I’m turning that into Caleb’s trophy room.” “I’m putting in custom display cases for his belts and gloves.” I stood in the courtyard that used to be mine, watching them plan their future. I felt like a stranger who had merely been granted permission to tour the property. On the drive back, Caleb buckled my seatbelt and intentionally took a detour to buy my favorite roasted chestnuts. He peeled one and held it to my lips. “Don’t be mad. Once I get back from the fight, everything will go back to normal.” “I’m cooking tonight. Your favorite, spicy fish.” While Caleb was in the kitchen, his phone buzzed on the nightstand. It was a message from a real estate agent. [Mr. Sterling, all the closing documents for your wife’s property are finalized.] Compelled by some dark intuition, I unlocked the screen. His passcode was my birthday. I opened the closing confirmation document. The date printed clearly on it was from three months ago. March 16th. Chloe’s birthday. He brought the food to the table. His phone rang again. It was Chloe. He listened for a moment, looking torn. He grabbed his jacket and stood up. “Chloe sprained her wrist. I need to go check on her. We can’t delay tonight’s rehab demonstration and interview.” “Sarah, you go ahead and eat. Drop off the custom gloves and mouthguard at the studio backstage later.” I sat alone at the table. I have never liked fish. The smell of the fish hit my nose, and I couldn’t hold it back anymore. I ran to the bathroom and threw up until my stomach was empty. At the television studio, Caleb was being interviewed. The reporter held the microphone, her voice dripping with admiration. “Champ, you and Chloe really are boxing’s ultimate power couple.” Chloe, impeccably dressed, clung to Caleb’s arm. “We heard that Chloe sacrificed a lot behind the scenes to help you reclaim your title?” Chloe covered her mouth with a delicate laugh. “The years Caleb was paralyzed were incredibly hard. But as long as a husband and wife face things together, there’s no obstacle you can’t overcome.” She placed heavy emphasis on the words “husband and wife.” My grip on the equipment case tightened until the plastic handles dug painfully into my palms. Just then, sharp-eyed media personnel in the front row suddenly pointed toward the backstage area. “Wait a minute. Isn’t that woman the same one who stood up at the victory gala?” Every single camera in the room instantly swiveled and locked onto me. Sensing the scent of a massive scandal, the reporter quickly shoved the microphone toward Caleb. “Champ, what exactly is your relationship with this woman?” “There are rumors that she was the one who stayed by your side during your darkest days, and even designed your rehab routine. Is that true?” The entire studio went dead silent. Everyone’s eyes darted back and forth between me and Caleb. I looked at Caleb on the stage. The few seconds of silence felt like an agonizing eternity. Deep down, I still harbored one pathetic, laughable shred of hope. I hoped that even if he wouldn’t acknowledge me as his partner, he would at least admit I was the one who suffered through the hardest years with him. Caleb looked at me. His eyes flickered. Then, he slowly raised the microphone to his mouth. “Sarah Davis is the housekeeper who took care of my daily needs over the past few years.” His voice echoed clearly through the speakers, reaching every corner of the room. “She works very hard and is very responsible.” He turned to look at Chloe, his eyes softening with deep affection. “But Chloe is my legal wife. She is the most important, irreplaceable person who helped me return to the ring.” The audience erupted into thunderous applause and cheers. I stood there, clutching the gear, my fingers turning to ice. Even breathing sent a dull, throbbing pain through my chest. Housekeeper. The eight years I spent selling my home, draining my bank account, and staying up all night managing his rehab… in his eyes, it was nothing more than dutiful domestic service. As soon as the interview ended, the studio descended into chaos. Someone had leaked photos of me cleaning hotel rooms online. Frenzied boxing fans immediately cornered me at the exit. “So she really is just a janitor trying to sleep her way to the top!” “Shameless bitch! He has a legal wife, who the hell do you think you are?!” “Keeping trash like her around is a stain on the champ’s reputation!” Vicious curses rained down on me from all sides. Someone violently shoved my shoulder. The equipment case slipped from my grasp, crashing to the floor. The gloves and mouthguard scattered everywhere. I crouched down to pick them up, but someone shoved me hard from behind. I lost my balance and tumbled down the concrete steps. Blood seeped from my elbow, and a blinding pain shot through my ankle. I gasped, the pain paralyzing me for several moments. The crowd erupted into mocking laughter. Caleb noticed the commotion. He started to rush toward me, but Chloe grabbed his arm. “Caleb, the press is waiting for photos. The sponsors are watching.” The panic in Caleb’s eyes slowly faded. He turned away, throwing a single sentence over his shoulder: “Security. Don’t let random nobodies ruin the event.” When he was paralyzed, if I was ten minutes late coming back from the grocery store, he would drag his useless legs to the door, sweating profusely in a panic, terrified I had abandoned him. Now, his legs worked perfectly. Yet, watching me lying bleeding at the bottom of the stairs, he still chose to turn his back and walk away. “Ma’am, please leave!” Dragging my swollen, throbbing ankle, I limped into the tournament’s partner hospital and handed over my ID at the front desk. The nurse typed a few keys on her computer, and her face instantly hardened. She slid my ID back to me, her tone completely flat. “I apologize, Ms. Davis, but this hospital cannot treat you.” I froze. Blood from my elbow had already soaked through half my sleeve. The nurse stared at me blankly and pressed the security buzzer on her desk. Two security guards marched over, grabbed me by both arms, and forcefully dragged me out of the emergency room lobby. I sat on the edge of a planter box outside, my hands shaking as I pulled out my phone and dialed Caleb’s number. It rang for a long time before someone picked up. “Hello?” It wasn’t Caleb. It was Chloe’s voice. She had clearly put it on speakerphone; I could hear reporters talking in the background. “Sarah, you know perfectly well I am Caleb’s wife. Why do you keep harassing him?” She spoke loudly, deliberately making sure everyone around her could hear. I gripped my phone, my knuckles turning white. “I am the one who suffered through the last eight years with him.” I gritted my teeth, forcing out the very last question buried in my heart. “I sold my family home. I cleaned toilets for eight years. Am I not even allowed to call him when I’m hurt?” The line went quiet for a moment. Then, I heard Caleb’s exhausted voice. “Just hang up. Don’t argue with her anymore.” He didn’t even ask how badly I was hurt. “You don’t need to lower yourself to her level. Let this be a lesson to her. Maybe she’ll learn her place.” The call was abruptly disconnected. The screen went dark. I stared at the black reflection, suddenly feeling completely ridiculous. I dragged my injured leg, limping all the way back to my rented apartment. As soon as the elevator doors opened, I saw my clothes and old books strewn all over the hallway floor. My landlord was standing in the doorway, a new lock cylinder in his hand. He avoided eye contact, gesturing vaguely to the pile of my belongings. “My hands are tied, Ms. Davis. I’m refunding your deposit. Please pack up and leave.” In the trash can nearby, my handwritten muscle logs and the original drafts of Caleb’s rehab plans had been shredded to pieces. The elevator chimed, and Caleb rushed out, panting heavily. He looked at the mess in the hallway, then at my bleeding arm, his brow furrowing deeply. He held out a bank card to me. “Sarah, can you stop making a scene?” His voice was laced with exhaustion and intense irritation. “After the fight, I’ll find you a new place to stay. The money on this card is your compensation.” I didn’t take the card. I just looked up, staring directly into his eyes. “You have a legal wife, yet you want to keep me around as a side piece.” “Caleb, what exactly do you think I am?” The color drained from Caleb’s face. His eyes darted away evasively. “I told you, I’ll explain everything after I get back from the fight. Can you just be reasonable for once?” He checked his watch. “I’m going to miss my flight. I have to go. Book a hotel room for yourself.” He turned around, stepped into the elevator, and never looked back. That night, alone in a cheap motel room, I received a summons from the police. Someone had reported me, submitting a forged audio recording to the authorities, accusing me of extortion. The bank card was submitted as evidence. I was detained. … Seven days later, Caleb returned triumphant from his overseas matches. He tried calling Sarah, but it went straight to voicemail. She didn’t reply to his texts. He rushed to her grandfather’s house, only to find the brass key she had held so tightly sitting in the mailbox. It wasn’t until someone told him Sarah had been arrested that he sprinted to the police station. The officer handed the bank card back to him. “Ms. Davis posted bail and left.”

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Chapter 1 Right before my wedding, my nanny lied to me, claiming my father had been kidnapped abroad. In my past life, I dropped everything and chartered a flight to save him, only to be abducted and defiled on the way. I dragged my broken body back with my dying breath. Only to find the nanny’s daughter wearing my wedding dress, becoming the wife of the city’s wealthiest heir, Julian Sterling. My father and brother were sitting in the front row, shedding tears of joy. The nanny, draped in diamonds and gold, leaned affectionately against my father’s chest. They looked like the perfect, happy family of four. When my brother turned and saw me, his face twisted in disgust: “Why the hell did you come back? You’re ruining everything!” I demanded to know why my father had lied to me. In response, he kicked me hard in the stomach, growling: “Throw her out! I won’t let her ruin my precious daughter’s wedding!” The bodyguards dragged me to a car. They were so rough that they accidentally strangled me to death. When I opened my eyes again, the nanny was rushing into my room, looking frantic. “Mia! Your dad was kidnapped overseas! You have to go save him!” This time, I kept smoothing out my wedding dress. Without even looking up, I said: “Tell them to shoot him. If he’s actually dead, I’ll just find myself a sugar daddy.” 1 Seeing my absolute indifference, the nanny’s face flushed with anger. “Have you completely lost your mind?” “Are you seriously abandoning your own father just so you can marry into the Sterling family?” I let out a scoff and unlocked my phone. On Instagram, the nanny’s daughter, Chloe, was flaunting her newfound wealth.“Thank you, Daddy, for the wedding gifts!” The photo showed a stunning set of pigeon-blood ruby jewelry. In my past life, I was too panicked to notice, consumed only by the desperate need to fly across the ocean and save my dad. But looking closely now, I recognized it immediately. That jewelry set was an heirloom left to me by my late mother. There were so many glaring red flags. I was such an idiot in my past life to fall for their lies. Just then, cheers erupted from the backyard pool area. The nanny immediately blocked my path: “Your brother is hosting a private party out there! He explicitly said no one is allowed to interrupt! Have you no shame? Your father is in danger, and you’re worried about a party?!” My heart turned to ice. Our father was supposedly kidnapped, and my brother was in the mood to throw a pool party? Their acting was so pathetically amateur. I definitely wouldn’t be stupid enough to fall for it this time. Perhaps realizing I wasn’t going to budge, the nanny stomped away in frustration. I immediately turned and headed straight for the backyard. In the center of the crowd, Chloe was wearing my custom white silk haute couture gown, soaking up everyone’s congratulations. “Congratulations, Chloe! You’re going to be Mrs. Sterling so soon!” “You two are a match made in heaven!” “Such extravagant wedding gifts! I’m so jealous. An amazing brother, a rich dad, and a billionaire husband. You have it all!” Chloe smiled brightly, casually flashing the 19-carat emerald engagement ring on her finger. My biological brother, Liam Montgomery, stood beside her, looking at her with pure adoration. Chloe smiled coyly. “My brother even bought me a whole villa as a wedding present.” Another wave of envious gasps washed over the crowd. Chloe looked incredibly smug, surveying her adoring audience, until her eyes landed on me standing at the edge of the patio. She let out a startled shriek, losing her balance and falling right into Liam’s arms. I casually strolled over. When Liam saw me, his face darkened instantly. “Why are you still here?” I answered softly: “I was wondering the same thing. Dad’s been kidnapped, hasn’t he?” “How does my dear brother have the mood to play ‘Rich Girl Fantasy’ with her right now?” Liam grabbed my wrist, silently threatening me to shut up. I violently shoved his hand away, grabbed Chloe’s hand, and yanked the emerald ring right off her finger. “And you! Stealing something this expensive? That’s enough to get you twenty years in prison!” Chloe cried out in shock, shrinking timidly behind Liam. Before Liam could even step up to defend her, several of Chloe’s friends jumped out. They pinned my arms behind my back and snatched the ring right out of my hand. “This is Chloe and Julian’s engagement ring! Who the hell do you think you are trying to steal it?!” “Are the Montgomery security guards deaf?! Drag this crazy bitch out of here!” I stared at the crowd. Every single one of them looked ready to tear me apart. After my mother passed away, my father sent me to live abroad alone. I only returned because the Sterling family demanded we honor the arranged marriage pact our families made when Julian and I were babies. My family instantly ordered me back to the US. But the second I stepped off the plane, they forced me to hand over the engagement token—that exact emerald ring. Chloe squeezed out a few crocodile tears. Seeing this, Liam violently shoved me to the ground. “Did you not hear them?! Get the hell out of here!” I pointed right at Chloe and snapped: “If anyone is getting out, it’s her!” “I am the real daughter of the Montgomery family! Who the hell is she?!” Hiding behind Liam, Chloe spoke up, her voice dripping with fake victimhood: “Why are you always so mean to me? I’ve been nothing but nice to you.” “You’ve hit me and yelled at me so many times. You’ve stolen my things. I never held it against you.” “But this ring is Julian’s engagement token to me! How could you say it’s yours?” As soon as she finished, her friends glared at me with pure malice. One of them stomped her heel down hard onto my hand. “So you’re the new maid? Taking advantage of Chloe’s kindness? You actually dare to hit her?” “Claiming you’re the Montgomery heiress? A street rat trying to be a phoenix? Know your damn place!” “Is this the hand you used to steal her things? Tell me!” The stiletto heel ground agonizingly into my palm. I screamed in pain, my body curling into a tight ball on the concrete. “Screaming like that… trying to seduce the guys here, huh?” I didn’t have the strength to fight back. It felt like my fingers were being crushed. I looked up and met Chloe’s taunting gaze. I finally managed to force a scream from my throat: “You’re the maid! Your whole family are maids!” That hit Chloe where it hurt. She absolutely despised anyone bringing up the fact that she was the nanny’s daughter. “I know you have a crush on Julian too, but we’ve been engaged for a long time.” “No matter how much you hate me or try to hurt me, there’s nothing I can do about it.” After she said that, her friends were even more infuriated. They sat on my chest and slapped me across the face several times. “I think you’ve completely lost your mind!” “We’ve been friends with Chloe since we were little kids! She is the true heiress of the Montgomery family!” “Where the hell did a filthy beggar like you even come from?!” I froze. After my mother died, my father claimed that looking at me just reminded him of her and made him too sad. So that was it. He sent me abroad because he had already planned to clear the way for the nanny and her daughter. As I struggled to push myself up from the ground, I heard someone say: “Chloe, show us that ruby set your dad got you!” “Yeah! Let this filthy maid see what real wealth looks like.” Chloe shot me a triumphant smirk and pulled the ruby set from her designer bag. Seeing my mother’s heirloom again, my nose stung and my eyes welled with tears. “Wow! It’s breathtaking! This has to be worth millions, right?” “Chloe, your dad spoils you so much! He didn’t even save this as a family heirloom for your brother, he just gave it to you for your wedding!” Chloe giggled coyly. “My dad said this little trinket is just for me to play around with. He promised to get me a set of world-class, top-tier jewelry for the actual wedding day.” The crowd gasped in awe. “Chloe, look, your maid is literally crying from jealousy.” “She’s probably seething with envy right now.” Chloe lifted her chin and looked down at me. “My dad told me he custom-ordered these rubies specifically for my mom, but they were stolen and hoarded by a homewrecker for years.” “It wasn’t until that bitch died that my dad could finally get them back.” “You actually look a little bit like that bitch.” One of Chloe’s friends immediately chimed in: “They all love trying to sleep their way to the top. Vain gold-diggers always have that same look!” My fingers dug into the edge of the jewelry box tray. I couldn’t hold back my fury any longer. “You’re lying!” Those rubies were my grandfather’s wedding gift to my mother. The back of the stones was even engraved with my mother’s childhood nickname. Not only did she steal my identity, but she was actively slandering my dead mother! Slap! Chloe raised her hand and slapped me hard across the face. I braced myself to stay upright so I wouldn’t drop the rubies. “I’m telling the truth!” Chloe shrieked. “The one who isn’t loved is the real homewrecker! She should have died a long time ago! She stole my mom’s place for years!” “And honestly, I’m planning on auctioning these rubies off anyway. It’s something that bitch wore. I feel dirty just touching it!” I slammed the jewelry box shut and pulled it tightly against my chest. “Don’t you dare!” Chloe smirked, looking at me like I was a joke. “My dad gave it to me. It’s mine.” “I can do whatever I want with it.” “Who do you think you are? You think you can threaten me?” I looked at Liam. He was completely unfazed. He didn’t say a single word to defend our mother when Chloe insulted her. Instead, he held out his hand, demanding I give the rubies back to Chloe. “Hand it over!” I shook my head. “Liam, do you have no conscience at all?!” “She just insulted Mom like that, and she wants to auction off her belongings! And you didn’t even say a word to stop her!” Liam’s face turned dark, but he continued to protect Chloe. “Chloe didn’t mean it like that.” “Give the jewelry back to her, and don’t make me use force.” I glared at Liam. Our mother loved him so much, and yet he was allowing Chloe to drag her name through the mud. “Liam, I am your biological sister.” “If Mom is watching from heaven, she will never forgive you!” A flicker of hesitation crossed Liam’s face. Chloe instantly latched onto his arm and whispered: “Brother… we grew up together. You’ve always protected me.” “I am your real sister. Have you forgotten? When you fell into the pool, I was the one who ran and got Dad to save you!” Hearing that, the coldness returned to Liam’s face. “I only have one sister, and that’s Chloe.” “If you spout any more of your crazy nonsense, I’ll have the guards throw you out.” The mocking laughter of the crowd drowned me out. One of Chloe’s friends kicked me hard in the back of the knee, forcing me to kneel on the ground. Chloe crouched down and grabbed my chin. The diamond ring on her finger scraped against my skin, leaving a bloody scratch. “I’ve let you off the hook time and time again, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have limits.” “You actually dare to lust after my fiancé? You’re pushing your luck, and I’m not letting it go this time.” I saw the corners of Chloe’s mouth curve upwards. She looked up at the group of idle, wealthy playboys standing around. “Since our maid here is so desperate to marry rich… do any of you guys need a mistress? You can take her with you today.” “Just throw some loose change at her, and she’ll happily wag her tail for you.” The men all turned to look at me, their eyes sweeping over my body with disgusting, predatory intent. “She’s pretty cute, but we’re not taking her unless she strips down so we can inspect the goods.” I scrambled up and tried to run, but Chloe’s friends grabbed my hair and slammed me back onto the concrete. “That’s easy!” They grabbed the collar of my dress and ripped it open, exposing my underwear and strapless bra. “Oh damn, she’s a freak. Wearing lace underneath.” “She was probably ready to jump into someone’s bed at any second.” The men’s eyes lit up, staring at my thighs and chest with absolutely zero restraint. “Chloe, I’ll take your maid! Is ten grand enough?” “I’ll give you fifteen! Looking at that ass and chest… I’m getting hard right now.” “She looks wild, I love it! Twenty grand, and I’m taking her right now.” I wrapped my arms tightly around my exposed body, shivering uncontrollably. Chloe let out a laugh. “That money isn’t even enough to buy one of my dresses. I’ll just give her to you guys for free. You can play with her however you want.” “Just don’t do it here at my house. I don’t want her ruining the Montgomery family’s reputation.” As soon as she finished speaking, several of the men exchanged glances and lunged toward me. I shielded my body and screamed at Liam: “Without my signature on the equity transfer documents, you will NEVER inherit the Montgomery estate!” “If any of these men touch me, I will bite my tongue off and kill myself right here! You will never see a single cent of that money for the rest of your life!” In my past life, right before I got on the plane to “save” my father, Liam manipulated me into signing away all my shares. Once I lost my only leverage, they didn’t hesitate to have me killed. In this life, I was absolutely not giving it away for free. Hearing this, Liam’s cold face finally showed signs of panic. He yelled at the men to stop. “Enough! Today is Chloe’s bachelorette party. We’re not letting a maid ruin it.” “Everyone, go back to drinking!” Chloe hadn’t expected Liam to actually speak up for me. Her expression darkened. But she quickly played along: “Let’s just listen to my brother. Honestly, I couldn’t bear to make you suffer too much humiliation either.” “But don’t you dare ever show your face around here again, or else…” Before she could finish her threat, a middle-aged man’s voice echoed from behind her. “Who’s making my little princess unhappy?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “534530”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Chapter 1 I’m incredibly socially anxious. So much so that the only relationship I could ever manage was online. On the very day I was finally tracked down and brought into my incredibly wealthy biological family, my adoptive sister—the “fake daughter”—stood in front of me, crying hysterically, begging to give her engagement back to me. I frantically waved my hands. “No, no, it’s fine! I already have a boyfriend.” The moment those words left my mouth, several lines of text suddenly materialized and floated in the air right in front of my eyes: [LMAO, the evil stepsister is rejecting him so quickly right now. Just wait until she actually sees the male lead, she’s gonna regret it immediately.] [The male lead only has eyes for the fake daughter anyway. She’s just going to use their chat history to stalk and harass him.] [She ends up bullying the female lead so badly she attempts suicide. The male lead hates her so much he breaks her arms and legs and locks her in a psychiatric ward.] What a joke. I’m practically terrified of my own shadow. Why would I ever stalk a total stranger? Just then, the sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway. My adoptive sister, Chloe, ran over with red, teary eyes. “Liam! This is my older sister… your original fiancée.” I turned around and locked eyes with a face I knew intimately. It was Liam Vance. The boyfriend I had been dating online for the past six years. The second Liam’s eyes met mine, a distinct flash of panic crossed his face. He quickly suppressed the emotion, pasting on a polite, distant smile, and extended a hand toward me. “Hello, Miss Sterling. I am Liam Vance, Chloe’s fiancé.” With that, he turned slightly, reaching out to affectionately ruffle Chloe’s hair. His voice was gentle but firm: “Chloe, don’t talk nonsense. The engagement was settled between you and me a long time ago. My wife can only ever be you.” The floating text instantly exploded into a frenzy: [Here we go! The evil stepsister is about to whip out the chat logs and throw a massive tantrum!] [I bet five bucks she bursts into tears in the next three seconds!] I gripped the hem of my shirt tightly, my fingertips turning ice-cold. I forced the corners of my mouth up into a small, polite smile. My voice was very soft, but perfectly steady: “Hello, Mr. Vance.” The floating text paused for a few seconds. [? That’s it? She’s not going to make a scene?] [She’s totally faking it. She’s saving her ultimate move for later. Classic playing hard to get.] Liam was clearly caught off guard as well. He looked at me, his eyes hiding a mix of warning and intense scrutiny. Chloe tilted her head, her eyes still rimmed with red. Her voice was soft and sickeningly innocent: “Sister, do you really not want the engagement anymore?” My eyes flicked briefly to the cufflink on Liam’s sleeve. It was the three-year anniversary gift I had sent him. When he put it on, he had laughed and told me he would wear it to every important occasion from then on. I looked away, my tone completely flat: “I don’t.” The text surged again. [Fake! Keep faking it! She’s definitely going to corner the male lead in private later and cry her eyes out!] My biological mother quickly stood up to smooth things over. She walked over with a bright smile and grabbed my arm: “Alright, alright, let’s not just stand around. Let’s eat first.” At the dining table. My mother placed a piece of braised rib on Chloe’s plate, then turned to me with a beaming smile: “Serena, honey, you mentioned earlier that you have a boyfriend. What does he do for a living? You should bring him over sometime so your father and I can meet him.” Every pair of eyes at the table instantly pinned onto me. The knuckles on Liam’s hand, gripping his chopsticks, turned stark white. His face looked incredibly tense. I raised my eyes, gave him a brief, fleeting look, then lowered my head and picked up a piece of food: “We met online. But we’re about to break up.” The text went absolutely feral. [See?! See?! She’s starting with the passive-aggressive comments!] [Just wait, next step is definitely whipping out the chat logs to play the victim!] My mother’s chopsticks paused in mid-air. “Why on earth would you break up if things are going well?” I chewed a piece of lettuce twice, swallowed, and spoke quietly: “He just got engaged to someone else.” The air in the room became so dead silent you could hear a pin drop. The only sound was the clinking of chopsticks against porcelain. Chloe was quick on her feet. She immediately grabbed a shrimp ball, placed it in my bowl, and smiled sweetly: “Sister, please don’t be sad. Try this, it’s my absolute favorite.” Liam’s hand jerked slightly, as if he wanted to stop her, but he violently pulled it back. I looked at the perfectly round shrimp ball in my bowl and frowned. “I’m allergic to shrimp.” All the color drained from Chloe’s face. Her eyes instantly filled with tears: “Is Sister disgusted by me?” My mother’s expression darkened instantly. “This is the first time your sister has ever served you food. Don’t be a spoilsport.” My father slammed his chopsticks down, his tone dripping with impatience: “It’s just an allergy, what’s the big deal? Eat it a few more times and you’ll build an immunity. Eat it. Don’t embarrass Chloe.” The entire table of people stared at me with freezing, judgmental eyes. It was as if I was the one being incredibly unreasonable. Liam glanced at me, his voice carrying a heavy, oppressive weight: “Just take a small bite, you’ll be fine. We have a family doctor on standby.” I stared at the shrimp ball for two seconds. Then, I picked it up with my chopsticks and ate it. A few minutes later. My neck started to itch violently, breaking out into a massive patch of angry red hives. Chloe let out a dramatic gasp, fat tears rolling down her cheeks: “I… I didn’t know Sister was actually allergic! I thought she just hated me…” My mother immediately pulled her into a hug, patting her back to comfort her, before shooting me a vicious glare: “What is wrong with you? If you’re really allergic, why didn’t you say something sooner? Did you do this on purpose just to make Chloe cry?!” I touched the raised hives on my neck. My voice was very light: “I did tell you. You didn’t believe me.” With that, I stood up. Without looking at a single person at the table, I turned around and walked straight to my room. The door had barely been closed for thirty seconds. Liam pushed the door open and followed me inside. His face was as cold as ice. He kept his voice low, hissing: “Watch your mouth. Do not say a single word about what happened between us before.” “You and I just chatted online to kill time, and you know it. Chloe is the only one worthy of being my wife.” I looked up at him. I wasn’t crying. I wasn’t throwing a tantrum. My face was completely devoid of any emotion. “Liam. This is where we end.” He froze. I didn’t waste another word. I turned around and shut the door in his face. I dug out my antihistamines and swallowed them dry with cold water. The dense, maddening itch on my neck slowly began to subside. I sat down at my desk and opened my laptop. The messaging app icon was flashing frantically. It was Harper. Her profile picture was an orange tabby cat eating a french fry. Her contact name was just “Handler.” She was my only best friend, and also my literary agent. She handled all my copyrights, publishing deals, and schedules. Her messages popped up one after another: [Queen!! Your majesty!! The submissions for the Booker Prize preliminary rounds are opening! Are you done with ‘The Dark River’ yet?! Let’s go win another gold medal!] I typed a few words back: [Winning the same award once is enough.] [The Dark River is aiming for the Pulitzer.] Just as I hit send, someone knocked twice on my bedroom door. Chloe pushed the door open, carrying a plate of mango crepes. Her eyes were still red. “Sister, I know I was wrong earlier. I made you some dessert to apologize.” Her eyes swept across my laptop screen, and she completely stiffened. I only had two people on my entire messaging app friends list. One of them was Liam. His profile picture was a photo of a snow-capped mountain he had used for six years. Crash— The plate slipped from her hands, shattering on the floor and splattering mango everywhere. Her voice suddenly spiked into a shrill, piercing shriek that could be heard throughout the entire floor: “How do you have Liam’s contact info?!” “Sister, if you really love Liam, I… I’ll step aside! But how could you go behind my back and—” The sound of heavy, thunderous footsteps rushed toward my room. My parents and Liam all arrived at the door. My father charged in first. His face was black as thunder. Without a single word, he raised his hand and slapped me across the face. Half my face instantly went numb. A trickle of blood seeped from the corner of my mouth. “You shameless disgrace! Seducing your own sister’s fiancé?! You’ve humiliated the entire Sterling family!” Liam stood near the back of the group, his eyes burning with fury. He probably thought I had intentionally left the chat open on my screen to force him into a corner and demand an explanation. He took two steps forward and held out his hand. “Give me your phone.” I didn’t move. He simply reached over and took it himself. His thumb expertly pressed against the fingerprint scanner where he knew I registered my print. With a soft click, the phone unlocked. He scrolled to my friends list, tapped on his snow-mountain profile picture, and immediately deleted and blocked the contact. The floating text was going absolutely insane. [HOLY SHIT! Look at the evil stepsister’s face! She’s totally pale! She’s definitely going to expose the chat logs now!] I wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth. I looked at the people standing in front of me, one by one. My voice was very soft, but it didn’t shake. “Are we done here? If there’s nothing else, I’m going to sleep.” The floating text abruptly stopped. Chloe’s sobbing choked off for a second. The insults dying on my father’s lips were swallowed back down. Liam stared at me for several long seconds. I couldn’t read the emotion swirling in his eyes. His lips moved slightly, but in the end, he didn’t say a word. Eventually, one by one, they all left. The door closed. The room was completely empty again. I opened my messaging app. My friends list was back to just Harper. I stared at the empty list for a few seconds. When Liam and I first met, my first pen name—the one I had used for ten years—had just been forcibly bought out by my publishing platform in a predatory contract. I had to use Harper’s ID to register a new indie blog and start completely from scratch. Every day, my inbox was flooded with thousands of messages from readers. I rarely bothered to read them. But Liam’s message was different. He said, “Your writing style… it’s exactly like Midnight Lantern.” He had no idea that I was Midnight Lantern. Later, he told me he was the CEO of Starlight Media. He complained about how absurdly expensive Midnight Lantern’s copyright fees were, and asked if I was willing to sell the film rights to the stories I posted on my blog. That was how we added each other. The “me” online and the “me” in real life were two completely different people. Online, I was witty, sarcastic, and could banter with the best of them. Liam said he was exhausted all day, but chatting with me for a few minutes always helped him relax. I was more than happy to let my guard down and just be myself with him. Eventually, he bought the rights to one of my short stories and invited me to consult on the screenplay adaptation. That was the first time we met in person. He stared at my bright red ears and laughed for a long time: “How are you so entirely different from who you are online? You’re so shy you can barely speak above a whisper. It’s actually really cute, though.” I had severe social anxiety since I was a child, but for some reason, being around him never felt exhausting. On my twenty-seventh birthday, he confessed his feelings to me. When I accepted, Harper threw a bucket of cold water on me: “The wife of the Vance family needs to be a social butterfly who can command a room. You’re someone who is too terrified to even open the door for the pizza delivery guy. Do you really think you can survive that world?” I didn’t believe her. I enrolled in public speaking and confidence-building classes. I forced myself to attend small book signings. I stood in front of my mirror and practiced how to hold a champagne glass and make toasts hundreds of times. I ruthlessly broke myself down and rebuilt myself, piece by piece, just so I could force my way into his world. Only for him to turn around and hold someone else’s hand. Outside the window, I heard Chloe’s laughter. I glanced out. Liam had clearly finished comforting her. He was affectionately ruffling her hair as they walked toward the garage. They were probably going shopping. I pulled my gaze away and opened my email. In my drafts folder sat an application to a prestigious literature program at a university in Europe. It had been sitting there for six months. I clicked Send. The text popped up again. [What is she typing now? It’s all in English?] [Plotting something evil, no doubt. She definitely hasn’t given up on the male lead.] I couldn’t be bothered to care about the text’s idiotic assumptions. I closed my email and opened the manuscript document for The Dark River. Only the last three chapters were left. My fingertips rested on the keyboard, and I started typing. Two days before the grand “Welcome Home” banquet the Sterling family was throwing for me, Chloe knocked on my door. She handed me a dress. It was completely encrusted with rhinestones and sequins, aggressively bright pink. The fabric was clearly high-quality, and it was definitely expensive. But it was the exact opposite of the minimalist, understated clothes I usually wore. It would look completely ridiculous on me. I didn’t take it. “I already prepared my own dress.” I had told them multiple times I didn’t want a welcome home banquet, but they insisted. Chloe’s eyes immediately turned red. “Does Sister not like it? I just wanted to make sure everyone knows how much the Sterling family values you.” From the sofa in the hallway, my father slammed down his newspaper. “Chloe canceled an important prep meeting for the Booker Prize preliminary rounds just to go pick out that dress for you! You will wear it whether you like it or not! It’s the thought that counts!” I glanced at Chloe. She was also an online author, and she was actually quite famous. But I had skimmed through a few of her books before. The writing was mediocre at best, definitely not matching her massive popularity. Recently, the quality of her work had suddenly skyrocketed, but her writing style had shifted drastically multiple times. It didn’t read like it was written by the same person. I didn’t say anything. I took the dress and nodded. Then, I turned around and texted Harper: [Get me a dress for the banquet.] The day of the banquet arrived. I crouched near the entrance of the hotel, clutching my stomach, my face pale. “My stomach hurts. You guys go in first. I’ll catch my breath and come in a bit.” My father muttered something about me being “too much trouble” and led my mother, Chloe, and Liam into the venue. The moment they were out of sight, I stood straight up. The dress Harper had sent over early this morning was waiting for me in the car. It was a smoky gray silk gown, a limited-edition haute couture piece worn by an Oscar-winning actress on the red carpet last year. The waist was embroidered with silver thread in the shape of a night-blooming cereus. It was from the actress’s own private collection. I changed into the dress and walked into the banquet hall. It was as if someone had hit the mute button on the entire room. Liam was standing near the main table, his champagne flute frozen halfway to his mouth. Chloe’s knuckles turned stark white as she gripped her glass. Someone nearby recognized the dress and whispered in awe: “Isn’t that the haute couture piece Mia Stone wore? It’s limited edition. You can’t buy that even if you have the money.” “The long-lost daughter the Sterling family brought back is actually stunning. An ice queen.” The tips of my ears felt like they were burning. My old social anxiety was threatening to flare up. I gripped the fabric of my dress tightly just to keep my composure, walking steadily deeper into the room, maintaining a detached, elegant expression. Chloe immediately hurried over and linked her arm through mine, smiling with manufactured warmth: “Sister, you’re here! Let me introduce you to some senior members of the Literary Association. They’ll be able to look out for you when you apply for membership.” She led me over to a group of men in sharp suits, pitching her voice to be soft and sugary: “My sister writes little stories on an indie blog. She’s not famous or anything yet, so I hope you gentlemen can give her some pointers.” The board members looked me up and down, smirking dismissively. “Getting into the Association requires real talent. Having a pretty face doesn’t cut it here.” “Exactly. You think you can just scribble a few sentences and get in? Our standards aren’t that low.” I lightly tapped my fingernail against my crystal glass, completely ignoring them. Their conversation quickly shifted to the upcoming election for the Association’s president. Director Davis sighed. “Chloe, your rival’s book, ‘The Crossing,’ has been dominating the bestseller lists for almost a month. If you don’t release a new masterpiece soon, your shot at the presidency is going to be in jeopardy.” Chloe didn’t say anything, but a girl standing next to her answered for her: “Chloe is planning to submit to the Booker Prize preliminaries. Once she wins the gold medal, she won’t have anything to worry about!” The board members all shook their heads. “That competition is impossibly difficult! In this entire country, only Midnight Lantern has ever won the gold medal. Everyone else struggles to even get shortlisted.” “The Association has invited Midnight Lantern to join countless times, and they just ignore us completely. Totally mysterious. We don’t even know if they’re a man or a woman.” I was getting bored listening to them. I told Chloe I was going to the restroom, turned around, and found a secluded, empty corner to sit down. I pulled out my phone, opened my writing app, and continued working on the final chapters of The Dark River. Without me noticing, Liam had walked over and sat down directly across from me. He cut straight to the chase: “Give The Dark River to Chloe. She’s going to use it for the competition.” My fingertips hovered motionless over the screen. It felt like a giant hand was squeezing my heart. A dull, suffocating pain spread through my chest. He knew better than anyone else. I had spent three years agonizing over The Dark River. I was aiming for the Pulitzer. When I was first drafting the outline, he stayed up with me for three consecutive all-nighters, helping me iron out the logic, chapter by chapter. The floating text went wild. [Here we go! Here we go! She’s definitely going to use ‘The Dark River’ as leverage to force the male lead to stay with her!] [I bet she demands an insane amount of money!] I raised my eyes and looked at him. My throat felt like sandpaper, but my voice was completely flat: “No.” With that, I stood up and walked away. My phone vibrated in my hand. I glanced down at the screen. [European College of Literature: Your admission application has been approved. Please submit your registration materials by the 30th of this month.] I stared at that line of text for three full seconds. The corners of my mouth twitched into a small smile. Completely ignoring Liam, whose face had turned dark with fury behind me, I walked straight out of the banquet hall. A few days later, I was at the visa application center filling out forms. A breaking news notification popped up on my phone: #Chloe Sterling’s “The Dark River” Shortlisted for Booker Prize Preliminaries. Joins Midnight Lantern as Leading Voice in Literature# I shot up from my chair. The documents in my hands scattered across the floor. I sprinted out of the visa center, flagged down a taxi, and sped straight to the Sterling estate. The moment I pushed open the door to my room, I was frozen to the spot. My laptop was completely destroyed. The motherboard, the hard drive, the keyboard—everything had been ripped apart and smashed into pieces. The screen was a spiderweb of cracked glass. The hard drive itself was physically bent in half. I stood there, my entire body trembling uncontrollably. For the very first time, the floating text changed its tune. [The male lead really went too far this time… he completely destroyed her computer just for Chloe…] [I was hating on the evil stepsister before, but now I actually feel kind of bad for her.] I pulled out my phone and called Harper. My throat was so tight I could barely speak. “My laptop was destroyed. The source files for The Dark River are all on it. Find me the absolute best data recovery expert on the planet. I don’t care how much it costs.” I hung up the phone, got back in a taxi, and went straight to Starlight Media. The receptionist tried to stop me, but I bypassed her and kicked open the door to the CEO’s office. Liam was sitting in his leather chair. When he saw me, he actually had the nerve to raise an eyebrow. I didn’t waste a single breath. I marched right up to him and slapped him as hard as I could. SMACK— His head whipped to the side. Blood immediately seeped from the corner of his mouth. “Do you have any idea what The Dark River means to me?!” Liam wiped the blood from his mouth. He actually let out a dark, chilling laugh. His eyes were terrifyingly cold. “What’s done is done. I suggest you don’t make a scene. I’ll give you thirty million as compensation. Also—” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk. “Before I smashed the laptop, I completely wiped the hard drive. If you dare to make a fuss about this, I have countless ways to ensure you are blacklisted from the writing community forever.” I stared at him for a long, long time. It was like looking at a complete stranger. I didn’t scream. I didn’t throw a tantrum. I just turned around and walked out. When I got back to the Sterling estate, the living room was incredibly lively. Liam’s parents were sitting on the sofa, holding Chloe’s hands, their faces beaming with joy. “Our Vance family is so honored to be gaining such a talented, accomplished daughter-in-law.” Chloe looked up and saw me. A flash of panic crossed her eyes, but she quickly plastered her sweet, innocent smile back onto her face. I gave a curt nod, treating it as a polite greeting, and walked straight upstairs. The shattered pieces of my laptop were still scattered across my desk. Liam had bought me that laptop. He had told me that since I spent all day staring at a screen typing, using something he gave me would ensure I was always thinking of him. I stared at the spiderweb cracks on the shattered screen for a very long time. Whatever tiny, lingering shred of feeling I had left for him completely turned to ash. The door was pushed open. Chloe leaned against the doorframe, a triumphant, arrogant smirk on her face. “Liam already told me everything. So what if you guys knew each other before? In the end, he still chose me. He said only someone like me is worthy of being the young Mrs. Vance. You’re just cheap trash who belongs in the gutter.” I couldn’t even be bothered to look at her. I started shoving the broken pieces of the laptop into my backpack. As I walked past her toward the door, I paused for a second. “Your little pedestal? You can keep it. I don’t want it.” When I arrived at Harper’s studio, Mia Stone was there too. The Oscar-winning actress who had lent me her dress. She was the lead actress in the very first television adaptation of my work. At the time, she was a total nobody. That show made her an overnight sensation. After that, I specifically requested her for every single adaptation of my books, single-handedly pushing her to A-list status. When she saw me walk in, she immediately handed me a hot milk tea. “Don’t panic. The hacker I hired is the absolute best in the industry. He will definitely get your files back.” In less than half an hour, the hacker handed me a flash drive. “The hard drive was only physically damaged. The source files have been fully recovered. All the revision histories, timestamps, everything is perfectly intact. I even managed to pull the cloud backups of your chat logs.” Mia gripped her phone, grinding her teeth in fury. “I’m going to post this on Twitter right now and expose her! My three hundred million followers will bury her alive!” I shook my head. “No rush. We wait until she wins the gold medal, and then we expose her right as she’s standing on the podium.” Mia blinked in surprise, then smiled. “Looks like you’re pretty confident in your own work.” Harper, standing next to her, raised an eyebrow. “Of course she is. She’s Midnight Lantern.” A week later. The Booker Prize preliminary committee announced the gold medal winner: Chloe Sterling. The internet exploded. But the day of the awards ceremony was also the day I was scheduled to report to the European College of Literature. I packed my bags and gave Harper her instructions. “You go to the ceremony. I’ll use the Midnight Lantern account to drop the evidence online. We hit them from both sides simultaneously.” On the day of the ceremony, I was sitting in the airport departure lounge, watching the live stream on my phone. On screen, Chloe, wearing a diamond-encrusted couture gown, stood on the podium, clutching the gold trophy, crying beautiful, delicate tears. “‘The Dark River’ is something I poured my heart and soul into. I wrote it word by word, agonizing over it for three years… thank you all so much…” In the very next second, Harper stood up in the audience, holding up a flash drive. “I am formally reporting a violation. Chloe Sterling’s submission, ‘The Dark River’, is completely plagiarized from an original creator.” I watched the chaos unfold on the screen. My fingertip tapped ‘Publish’ on the Twitter draft I had prepared in advance. The attachments included the source files, timestamps, the entire revision history, and screenshots of every single conversation I had with Liam discussing the outline of The Dark River. The caption was just four words: I am Midnight Lantern. Send. Right as I tapped the button, the airport intercom chimed: “Passengers for Air France Flight AF3287 to Paris, we are now beginning boarding at Gate 3.” I stood up and grabbed my bag. My phone was vibrating like crazy in my pocket. The Caller ID flashed: Liam Vance.

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Chapter 1 At our daughter’s seventh birthday party, she was just about to call for her dad to cut the cake. Instead, my husband shoved her away, hard, right in front of everyone. “Don’t call me that! I’m not your dad!” He slammed a DNA paternity test down onto the table. I was completely blindsided, unable to defend myself, and my own parents slapped me across the face right then and there. The newly found “true daughter” of the family shrank into my husband’s arms, her eyes red, playing the innocent victim. “I’m so sorry, Sarah… I just made an offhand comment about how Lily didn’t really look like Julian… I had no idea he would actually go and get a test…” From that moment on, I was branded a whore, and my daughter became the bastard child everyone spat on. Later, when Julian demanded a divorce, I begged him—for Lily’s sake—to take just one more paternity test. But then, I accidentally overheard a conversation between him and his friend. “You framed your own wife as a cheater and reduced Lily to a bastard just to help Chloe vent her anger… Aren’t you worried your wife and kid are actually going to leave you over this?” Julian’s tone was entirely careless. “What’s there to be afraid of? My in-laws know the paternity test is fake too.” “It’s her own fault for being the fake daughter and stealing Chloe’s life for all those years. Once Chloe feels like the score is settled, I’ll just remarry her.” “Sarah can’t live without me. Even if we divorce, she’ll just sit around waiting for me.” Thinking of Lily crying and asking me if her daddy really didn’t want her anymore… I clenched my fists so hard my nails dug into my palms. The next day, without shedding a single tear or causing a scene, I calmly went to the courthouse and finalized our divorce. But what he didn’t know was that the moment I walked out of that building, I turned right around and signed a different marriage certificate. Standing outside the door, listening to Julian’s careless, arrogant words, I could barely stay on my feet. His friend tried to say something else, but Julian interrupted with a light laugh. “That’s enough. When the time comes, I’ll just pretend I didn’t know.” “I’ll just say the hospital mixed up the samples. I guarantee she’ll come running right back to me.” I leaned heavily against the wall, my heart violently seizing in my chest. Just a few hours ago, Lily had come home from school crying. Her usually pristine uniform was covered in mud, and her knees were scraped raw and bleeding. I called her teacher, only for her to coldly demand that we transfer schools. “Lily’s mom, are you really going to make me spell this out for you?” “Your own private life is a scandalous mess, and everyone in town knows about it. What kid in this school doesn’t know she’s an illegitimate child with no father?” “The other parents are extremely upset about this. It’s putting the school in a very difficult position.” When she hung up, I held my trembling daughter, my heart feeling like it was being sliced into ribbons. She looked up at me, her little face covered in tear tracks, and asked: “Mommy… if I really am Daddy’s baby, will he… will he like me again?” It was because of those words that I swallowed every last drop of my pride and came to find Julian again. To beg him to take another paternity test. But I never, ever expected to stand outside this door and hear something so utterly malicious. To him, publicly forging a paternity test to destroy my reputation was just a trivial matter. And the humiliation and abuse that Lily and I had suffered were nothing more than a staged play he directed to appease another woman. Even my adoptive parents—the people who always claimed to love me the most—were accomplices in this twisted game. I closed my eyes in profound agony. Inside the room, their laughter continued. His friend sounded slightly hesitant: “But Lily… I saw her running out of school earlier today crying while a bunch of kids called her a bastard. Can you really stand to see her suffer like that?” “If she finds out the truth, what if she refuses to acknowledge you as her father?” Julian’s voice dripped with the arrogance of a man who believed he controlled everything. “Kids have short memories. So what if she suffers a little right now?” “Besides, she’s my biological daughter. Blood is thicker than water. Do you really think she’s ever going to actually disown her own father?” I clenched my hands, my nails digging so deep into my flesh I should have bled, but I couldn’t feel the pain. In the past, I would have kicked the door open and screamed at him. But this time, I just turned around in eerie silence. This divorce was happening. I packed a few changes of clothes, took Lily by the hand, and went back to the Sterling family home. In the past, whenever I came to visit, my parents would come out to greet me with huge smiles before I even reached the front door. But this time, the disgust in my mother’s voice was completely undisguised. “What are you doing here?” “Mom… I have nowhere else to go. I just wanted to bring Lily here for one night.” My mother sneered. “The Sterling estate isn’t a homeless shelter. Don’t bring your bad luck into this house.” My chest tightened painfully. Lily peeked out from behind my legs, her voice timid and soft. “Grandpa! Grandma!” She waited expectantly, just like she always did, for them to pick her up and hug her. But their faces remained freezing cold. “Don’t call us that. We don’t have trashy relatives like you.” It felt like someone had taken a baseball bat to my head. I stood frozen in place. Just a few days ago, we were a family. How had we devolved to the point where we weren’t even considered relatives? In my memories, my dad used to lift me over his head and declare that Sarah was the crown jewel of the Sterling family. My mom used to burst with pride, bragging to anyone who would listen about how accomplished her daughter was. But ever since Chloe came back, all their love and affection seemed to vanish overnight. The projects I was managing were stripped from me, one by one. The business connections and resources I had painstakingly built over years were slowly transferred to Chloe’s name. At the time, I comforted myself by saying Chloe was their biological daughter, their true blood. It was only natural they wanted to compensate her. But now, I finally understood. They hated me. They hated me for taking up space, for effortlessly living the life that was supposed to belong to Chloe. Julian’s cruel words echoed in my ears. To help Chloe vent her anger… they had actually greenlit this entire slanderous charade, mercilessly grinding me and Lily into the dirt. Thinking of this, I forced down the churning emotions in my chest and cautiously tested the waters: “What if… what if there was something wrong with that paternity test? What if the results were fake?” My mother paused for a fraction of a second. “The evidence is irrefutable, and you’re still trying to lie your way out of it?” My father glared at me coldly. “Everyone saw it. You’ve dragged the Sterling family’s reputation through the mud.” “If a paternity test isn’t enough proof for you, what is? Do we have to catch you in bed with another man before you admit it?” A bone-chilling cold swept through my heart. They knew perfectly well it was all fake. Yet, in this very moment, they were still using the most venomous language to curse me, aggressively nailing me to the cross as a cheating whore. My father furrowed his brow, speaking like he was offering me a grand act of charity. “Fine. If you really want to stay here, you have to issue a public statement tomorrow.” “You will publicly confess to your infidelity, and admit that Lily is not Julian’s child.” “Then, you will step down from all core positions in the Sterling Corporation and unconditionally transfer all your shares to Chloe.” I could hardly believe my ears. My voice shook. “You want me to admit to what?!” “Lily is not a bastard!” My mother didn’t even blink. “A bastard born from a fake daughter. If that’s not trash, what is it?” A loud ringing exploded in my ears. Something deep inside me completely shattered. Just then, the sound of footsteps came from the stairs. Chloe walked down, her eyes slightly red, looking like a startled deer. “Dad, Mom, please don’t be like this…” She looked at me, her voice dripping with sickly sweetness. “Sister, I know you’re hurting. But Mom and Dad are getting older, and the Sterling family has a reputation to uphold.” “You can’t just drag everyone down with you because of your messy private life.” “Just admit you were wrong. Once this whole thing blows over, we’ll still be a family.” She lowered her gaze to look at Lily, her eyes filled with fake, manufactured pity. “As for whether or not the kid is actually Julian’s flesh and blood…” “Julian is such a good man, I’m sure he won’t hold it against you.” I opened my mouth to respond, but my parents had already lost their patience. They ordered the maids to throw my bags out the door. “We raised you for twenty years, and we wanted to let you leave with some dignity.” “But since you refuse to admit your mistakes, don’t you ever step foot in the Sterling house again.” By the time we left the Sterling estate, it was late into the night. Lily huddled in my arms, her eyes red and swollen, completely silent. I stroked her hair, assuming she had cried herself to exhaustion, and quickly started looking for a place to stay. Standing in the hotel lobby, I looked like an absolute wreck. “Hi, I need to book a suite, please.” I handed over my corporate credit card. The receptionist swiped it, then looked up at me. “I apologize, ma’am. This card has been frozen.” My heart dropped. I dug out my personal debit card. Only to find out that the life savings in my own account had been completely drained. My fingertips turned to ice. A wave of pure nausea washed over me. Julian had actually gone this far. He didn’t just want to force me to submit; he wanted to cut off every single path of escape I had. The receptionist’s tone flattened. “Miss, are you going to book a room or not?” My throat tightened. I quickly called my best friend for help. “Can you lend me some money? Or… can you just book a room for me? I need a place for Lily and me to stay tonight.” The line went dead silent for two agonizing seconds. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Sarah… it’s not that I don’t want to help you.” “It’s just… my family’s company is right in the middle of negotiating a massive contract with the Sterling Corporation. Your situation is a complete PR disaster right now. If I get involved, my family’s company might be implicated.” She didn’t need to finish the sentence. I understood. I hung up the phone. Staring at my pathetic reflection in the polished marble floor, I suddenly found it all incredibly funny. I had lived over twenty years of my life, and it turned out I had absolutely nothing. The only person in the world who would unconditionally stand by my side was the little girl currently in my arms. But in the very next second, she swayed unsteadily and went completely limp against my chest. I touched her forehead, and my heart nearly stopped. She was burning up. I desperately scrolled through my contacts until I finally landed on the one name I least wanted to bother. After finally managing to borrow some money, I picked Lily up and went back to the front desk. “Please, just get me a room. My daughter has a fever.” The receptionist suddenly rolled her eyes. “No wonder your cards are frozen. You’re that cheating, fake daughter from the Sterling family.” I froze. She looked me up and down, her tone dripping with venomous disdain. “It’s bad enough that you’re cheap trash yourself, but to drag some illegitimate bastard child out here to embarrass yourself?” “This is a respectable establishment. Please take your business elsewhere. Don’t dirty our lobby.” Guests nearby all turned to stare at me. I wanted to explain, but I knew it was useless. I was completely defenseless. I could only carry Lily and retreat from the hotel in utter humiliation. Out on the street in the dead of night, the wind cut like a knife. Lily was delirious from the fever. She buried her face in the crook of my neck and mumbled weakly: “Daddy… please don’t throw me away…” That single sentence ripped my heart into a million pieces. Gritting my teeth, I finally pulled out my phone and dialed Julian’s number. I called ten times. No answer. With trembling fingers, I typed out a message and sent it. [Lily has a high fever. Can you please come?] A long time later, he replied. [That kid isn’t even mine. I don’t have time for your pathetic little dramas.] I stared at that line of icy text. The street around me was bustling with people, but I couldn’t even manage to make a sound as I cried. Ultimately, I had to take Lily to the hospital alone. The emergency room hallway was chaotic. I had just finished registering at the triage desk when I heard a familiar voice. Julian was carefully supporting Chloe as they walked into the ER. A nurse handed a test result slip to Julian, her tone reprimanding. “Early pregnancy bleeding. Signs of a threatened miscarriage.” “The first few months are critical. As her husband, you need to be more careful. Stop stressing out the pregnant mother!” Julian took the slip and instinctively pulled Chloe closer to him. “Does it still hurt?” Chloe shook her head gently, her eyes rimmed with red. Julian frowned deeply. “Don’t go back to your place tonight. Stay at my house.” “I’ll take care of you.” Chloe bit her lip, gave a soft “okay,” and leaned her entire body against his chest. I stood frozen in place, feeling the blood in my veins turn to ice, inch by inch. Many years ago, when I was pregnant with Lily, he had held me exactly like that. My morning sickness had been so severe I couldn’t even keep water down. He had instantly canceled all his work commitments and spent ten full months exclusively by my side while I waited to give birth. He had told me: “Sarah, you and our daughter… you are my entire life!” But now, the man who was branding his “entire life” as a bastard was him. The man who personally pushed me and Lily into the abyss was him. I suddenly felt the urge to laugh. It turns out, when a person loves you, it can be incredibly real. But when they stop loving you, they can be terrifyingly cruel. Lily was still burning up in my arms. My phone vibrated. I looked down. It was a message from Julian. [Sarah, I’m tired of waiting. I’ll see you at the courthouse in three days.] [Okay.] Forcing down the agonizing pain in my chest, I typed the response with trembling fingers. As soon as Lily’s fever broke and she stabilized, I took her straight back to Julian’s house to get my ID and documents. Before opening the door, I turned on the voice recorder app on my phone and slipped it into my pocket. I thought I was mentally prepared. But when I opened the door and saw Chloe sitting on my sofa, wearing my pajamas… A wave of bitter acidity washed over my heart. She didn’t even try to pretend anymore. She tilted her head and smiled at me with innocent malice. “Sister! You guys are getting divorced soon anyway, so you aren’t the lady of the house anymore. You don’t mind if I borrow your clothes, do you?” I didn’t answer. I just looked around the room. In just two short days, the home I had lived in for eight years was completely saturated with Chloe’s presence. I swallowed my anger and led Lily toward our bedroom. But Chloe suddenly bent down and pulled a cake out of the fridge. “Here you go, Lily. You didn’t get to eat any on your birthday, so Auntie Chloe bought you a make-up cake. I was waiting for you to come back!” She smiled, looking completely harmless, but her words were laced with venom. Her birthday party was Lily’s deepest trauma, yet Chloe was intentionally pouring salt into our wounds over and over again. “Even though you aren’t Julian’s child, kids are innocent, right?” “Come on, have a bite.” Lily’s face went deathly pale. She looked up at me, her eyes brimming with tears, as if she had done something terribly wrong. I suppressed my rage. “We don’t want it.” Chloe paused. “Are you waiting for Julian to come cut it for you?” “I’ll go get him right now, okay?” “Lily, don’t worry. Auntie Chloe already talked to him. Even though your parents are getting divorced, out of respect for me, he’ll still keep paying for your expenses.” Lily’s face turned even whiter. Her tiny fingers gripped the hem of my shirt in a death grip. I stared at that disgusting cake, my stomach violently churning. In the next second, I raised my arm and swatted the cake right off the table. The icing exploded across the floor, splattering in a sticky mess across the rug. Chloe shrieked in shock, tears instantly flooding her eyes. “Sister, I was just trying to be nice to you! How could you do this?!” At that exact moment, Julian walked out of the hallway. A surge of violent fury crossed his face. In the next second, he slapped me so hard my face whipped to the side. “Sarah, is that enough?! You’ve caused this much chaos, and you’re still acting like an embarrassment?!” I started laughing, a low, humorless chuckle. “You forged a paternity test on Lily’s birthday, and you don’t think you’re an embarrassment?” “You took Chloe to the OB-GYN emergency room, and you don’t think you’re an embarrassment?” The muscle between Julian’s eyebrows twitched violently. “What kind of garbage are you spouting?! If you keep trying to throw dirty water on us, don’t blame me for what happens next.” He violently shoved me and my daughter into the bedroom. “Get in there and think about what you’ve done! First thing tomorrow morning, we’re going to the courthouse to get divorced. As the party at fault, don’t even dream about taking a single cent of my money. You are leaving with absolutely nothing!” The door clicked as it was locked from the outside. The strong facade I had been maintaining instantly shattered, and tears poured out like a broken dam. All I could do was hold my daughter tightly, apologizing to her over and over again. “Lily, Mommy is so useless. I couldn’t protect you. I let you take the blame and suffer so much.” But Lily reached up, like a tiny adult, and gently wiped the tears from the corners of my eyes. “Mommy, don’t cry.” “Mommy, if Daddy doesn’t want us, then we don’t want him either.” That night, looking into my daughter’s resolute eyes, I finally made a decision. The next day, inside the courthouse. The moment we finished the paperwork and I held the divorce certificate in my hand, Julian still had that look of arrogant certainty. “Sarah, if you drop to your knees and beg for my forgiveness right now, it’s not too late.” “No thanks. I’m in a rush to get married.” Hearing this, he looked slightly stunned, then laughed in disbelief. “Married? Who exactly are you getting married to?” Right at that moment, a sleek black Maybach pulled up smoothly to the curb outside. Right in front of Julian’s face, without a moment’s hesitation, I took the man’s hand and walked right back into the courthouse. Under Julian’s bewildered, chasing gaze, we handed our IDs to the clerk. “Hello. We’re here to get our marriage license.”

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Chapter 1 On the eve of my wedding, I decided to play a little prank. I called Julian, pretending to be my eighteen-year-old self from the past, trying to make a “time-travel call.” My voice was full of bright, bubbly anticipation: “Julian! How are we doing at twenty-seven? Are we getting married? Are we… happy?” The other end of the line was silent for a long time. Then, Julian’s exhausted voice came through: “Not great.” “Sarah… my whole life is ruined because of you.” “I’m begging you. If there’s another parallel universe out there… let me go.” I froze. I genuinely thought I had misheard him. When I finally snapped out of it, I called my mom, crying uncontrollably. “Mom, I…” “I know,” my mom interrupted, letting out a weary, sympathetic sigh. “You’re playing the eighteen-year-old Sarah.” “Julian has had it so hard. He and your sister have been desperately in love for five years. Because of you, they’ve had to suppress their feelings this whole time.” “Sarah, listen to me. In your next life, just step aside and let him and your sister be together.” The tears turned ice-cold on my face. My hands shook violently as I finally dialed my sister’s number. She was panting heavily on the other end, clearly intertwined with Julian. She let out a suppressed, agonizing sob: “Sarah… please forgive me. It’s just for tonight. He’s only mine for tonight.” “I promise I will never fight you for him in this life. I just beg you… in the next life, please let me have him.” Tears streamed silently down my face as I hung up the phone. My heart completely flatlined. Whatever. There was no need to wait for a next life or a parallel universe. I’d let them be together in this one. … Julian didn’t come back until the next morning. He brought with him the faint scent of rose body wash, and the tips of his hair were still damp. As he took off his jacket and hung it up, he threw a casual glance at me. “Why are you up so early?” “Couldn’t sleep,” I replied calmly. I paused for a second before continuing. “Julian, let’s call off the wedding.” He froze, turning to look at my slightly red, swollen eyes. “Are you… joking?” “I played a game last night,” I said, staring straight at him. “A game called ‘Time-Travel Phone Call’.” Julian’s hand stopped mid-air. He looked at me, and the color slowly drained from his face. “Sarah… you tested me?” I let out a bitter, self-deprecating laugh. I hadn’t expected his accusation to arrive before an explanation. “If I hadn’t tested you, was I supposed to just play the idiot for the rest of my life?” “Julian.” My eyes burned red. “Are the two of you actually disgusting?” Smack. A sharp slap threw my face to the side. I covered my cheek, completely stunned. Julian looked down at his own hand, clearly shocked himself. It seemed he hadn’t even expected to hit me. He pressed his lips into a hard line, pulled his hand back, and looked at me with dark, heavy eyes: “Sarah, if you have ugly things to say, aim them at me. I won’t let anyone insult her.” Every drop of blood in my body rushed to my head. With blazing red eyes, I raised my hand and slapped him back with everything I had. “Who the hell gave you the right to hit me?!” “Julian, not even my own parents have ever laid a hand on me!” But the slap never landed. Julian caught my wrist in a vice-like grip. He let out a cold, mocking laugh. “Your parents?” “Your parents know everything about me and your sister. Did you know that?” “Last Thanksgiving, when you came home, you hadn’t even sat down before your mom dragged you out to go shopping, and your dad said he was going to buy you a pie.” He leaned in close, his tone dripping with cruel amusement: “Your entire family was covering for us.” It felt like I had been struck by lightning. I snapped my head up, staring at him in absolute disbelief. He let go of my wrist with a look of pure contempt. “Wake up, Sarah.” “If I were you, I would take advantage of whatever shred of guilt I still have left as your future husband.” “Because, frankly, not even your own parents love you.” I collapsed onto the floor, tears streaming down my face. “Why…” I forced my head up, my voice barely a whisper. “Why would you do this to me?” “Julian,” my voice trembled. “I’m not someone who clings to things that aren’t mine.” “If you were dead set on being with my sister, I could accept it! We could break up, cancel the wedding, and you could go marry her!” “Why did you all have to hide it from me? Why did everyone gang up to deceive me?!” “Go be with her! Why are you still marrying me?!” I screamed through my tears, feeling a despair so profound it felt like my heart was dying. He looked down at me from above. After a long silence, he let out a cold scoff. “Why do you think? Do you really think it’s because I love you?” He leaned down, wiping a tear from my chin, and let out a sound of disgusted pity. “Sarah. Chloe is your older sister. She’s a divorced single mother. Her life is hard enough as it is.” “I don’t want to subject her to any more gossip or judgment from outsiders.” “If we called off our wedding, and then I turned around and got with your sister, how do you think your relatives would look at her?” “So.” He gripped my shoulders, his voice sickeningly gentle and infinitely cruel. “Sarah, I can’t bear to let her suffer, so you’ll have to take the fall.” I stared at him in horror, an icy chill seeping into my bones. “You mean… you’re using our marriage as a smokescreen so you can be with my sister?” “Smart girl,” he said, affectionately tapping my nose. “So you’re going to play along, right?” I violently slapped his hands away, my anger boiling over. “Julian, what makes you think I would ever play along and just let you manipulate me like a puppet?” “Because you will,” he smiled, pulling a folded piece of paper from his pocket and dropping it in front of me. “You had a checkup last week. You’re pregnant.” “Sarah, this is our baby. Our first baby. You conceived it while you were full of hope for our marriage, right at the peak of your love for me.” “You wouldn’t have the heart to bring a fatherless child into the world, would you?” “Besides, you love me so much. We’ve been together for ten years. You gave me your entire youth. Do you really have the guts to cancel the wedding?” “Even if you did, who’s going to want a pregnant woman?” I picked up the ultrasound report, my hands shaking so violently I could barely hold it. Tears cascaded down, blurring my vision. I suddenly burst out laughing, the tears splashing onto the paper: “Julian… you are truly vicious.” He smiled, reaching out to stroke my hair. It was a gesture of maximum, tender cruelty: “Be a good girl, Sarah. You don’t have a choice.” “And remember, do not let your sister know that you found out. I don’t want Chloe feeling any psychological burden. Understood?” I looked at his threatening, fiercely protective expression. It was like I was looking at a complete stranger. He stood up smoothly and stepped right over me without a second glance. I rushed into the bathroom and threw up into the toilet until my stomach was empty. An overwhelming, suffocating nausea crawled up my throat. I couldn’t tell anymore if it was my stomach burning, or my heart. I kneeled on the cold tile floor, trembling uncontrollably, crying and laughing at the same time. Finally, I mechanically picked up my phone, stopped the voice recording app, and saved the entire conversation. Then, I booked an appointment for the earliest available abortion. Julian was wrong. I did have a choice. I just had to be more vicious, and more ruthless, than he was. The next day was supposed to be the day we went to the courthouse to sign our marriage license. Julian called me multiple times. I didn’t answer a single one. Finally, my sister called me. “Sarah.” Her tone was gentle, tinged with a slight, playful scolding. “Today is the day you get your license. How could you throw a tantrum and just not show up?” “Did you get into a fight with Julian? Don’t worry, big sister will scold him for you. Just come over and get the license first, okay?” I listened to her voice in a daze. It was impossible to reconcile this woman with the one moaning into the phone with Julian just two nights ago. I desperately wished that night had just been a terrible nightmare. I wished I could wake up and she would still be my loving, gentle older sister. And Julian would still be the man I relied on with all my heart. Unfortunately… I leaned back against the hospital bed and spoke in a hoarse voice: “I’m sick. I can’t make it.” “Tell Julian we’ll do it another day.” I hung up before she could respond. Then, I opened the synchronized feed from Julian’s dashcam. The footage stabilized, showing Julian and my sister sitting in his car. Chloe looked worried. “Julian, what’s wrong with Sarah? Why is she suddenly throwing a fit?” “Do you think she found out about us…” “No way.” Julian leaned over and pecked her on the lips. “She’s too stupid. How could she know?” “And even if she did, she wouldn’t dare do anything,” he stated confidently. “Chloe, I promise I will never let you get hurt.” Chloe still looked anxious. “But if she won’t sign the license, what are we going to do…” “If she won’t sign it, she won’t sign it. The wedding ceremony will still happen. We just need to put on a show for everyone.” Julian said lazily. Suddenly, he looked at Chloe with intense seriousness: “Chloe, let’s get married.” Chloe stared back blankly: “What did you just say?” Julian pulled her into his arms. “I’ll give the ceremony to her, and the marriage license to you.” “From now on, you are my true wife.” Off-camera, I stopped breathing. I already knew they were dirty. But actually watching the man I once loved unconditionally use that same face to say those exact words to another woman—my own sister—my heart still physically ached. On screen, Chloe’s eyes gradually reddened. She nodded instinctively, then frantically shook her head: “No… no, we’ve already wronged Sarah so much. This… this is too cruel to her.” “If you reject me, isn’t that cruel to me?” he leaned closer. “Chloe, are you really going to give me up just for your sister?” Chloe looked at him, her expression torn with agony. Finally, as if making a monumental decision, she nodded. “Okay. Let’s go get the license.” “Even if we have to annul it or get divorced later, I’ll accept it.” She looked at him, tears in her eyes, looking like a martyr going to her death. “Julian, for this lifetime… at least we got to be husband and wife once.” They gazed deeply into each other’s eyes, kissed passionately, inseparable. Off-camera, I cried until I couldn’t see. This was the sister I thought loved me the most. The man I thought loved me the most. Blood ties, eternal vows… it was all a joke. And I was the punchline. I closed my eyes and let the nurses wheel me into the operating room. Three days later, the day of the wedding arrived. I sat in front of the vanity mirror, watching my mother brush my hair. Her expression was gentle and loving. There was absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. I suddenly asked her, “Mom, do you think I’ll be happy?” Her hand paused for a fraction of a second. She met my eyes in the mirror, her gaze a mix of what could have been blame, or perhaps resignation. “Sarah, you’re marrying the man you love most in the world. How could you not be happy?” “Just think about your sister…” She stopped herself, unable to finish the sentence. I forced a tight smile. If I didn’t know the truth, I probably would have assumed she meant my sister’s unhappy first marriage. But now, I knew exactly what she meant. She was saying that I had stolen my sister’s happiness. I had stolen my sister’s true love. I always knew my parents favored Chloe. They always used to say that having one boy and one girl was the perfect family. Chloe was the “girl” in that perfect family, but I wasn’t the “boy”. I just never realized how deep their favoritism went. Deep enough to help their oldest daughter have an affair with their youngest daughter’s fiancé. Without a shred of guilt. In fact, they flipped the script, making it seem like I was the one ruining her life. “You’re right,” I sighed softly. “I’m marrying the man I love most.” “But do you think he loves me just as much?” “Mom.” I tilted my head to look up at her. “Do you love me as much as I love you?” My mother froze. For a split second, I clearly saw panic flash in her eyes. But she quickly composed herself. “Of course,” she smiled warmly, her mask flawless. “No one in the world loves you more than your mother.” “It’s just… your sister hasn’t had your luck in life. I can’t help but want to coddle her a little more.” My heart turned to ice. They were watching me walk into a sham marriage with a cheater. They all conspired to hide the truth from me. And yet, she had the nerve to say I had “luck in life.” Meanwhile, my sister and Julian had already secretly signed their marriage license. She was his legal wife. But because they had to hide to avoid public scrutiny and couldn’t parade their relationship around openly—she was the unlucky one. How could a human heart be this warped? “Sarah,” she added, her tone suddenly vague. “I need to tell you something. Nothing in this world is perfect, and there is no such thing as a flawless marriage.” “Sometimes, just being content and not asking for too much… that’s a blessing too. Do you understand?” A mocking smirk ghosted across my lips. Was this really a mother’s heartfelt advice to her daughter? Or was it a preemptive strike? A warning that if I ever discovered anything in the future, I shouldn’t make a scene. That I should just turn a blind eye, and we could all go on living our lives. I lowered my head, hiding my icy expression. “I understand.” My mother nodded in satisfaction and went downstairs to greet the guests. I slowly opened the drawer and gripped the flash drive tightly in my palm. The sound of firecrackers erupted outside. The wedding convoy had arrived. The bridesmaids laughed and rushed to barricade the door, part of the traditional wedding games. Only my sister didn’t move. She stayed quietly by my side. I looked into her eyes. Her makeup was slightly smudged. She had been crying. She was wearing a long, flowing white dress. It looked nothing like the other bridesmaids’ dresses. It looked more like a wedding gown. The groomsmen laughed and shoved against the door from the outside, finally forcing it open. Julian burst in, laughing, looking triumphant and handsome. He took a massive stride forward. He walked right past me and scooped Chloe up into his arms. The bridesmaids gasped in shock. A few of the groomsmen, completely oblivious, laughed loudly and slapped his shoulder: “Wrong girl, Julian! You grabbed the wrong girl! The bride is on the bed!” “Just because the sister looks like the bride doesn’t mean you can run off with her!” Everyone chuckled good-naturedly. Julian slowly lowered Chloe to the floor, gazing at her with deep affection. “You’re right. I grabbed the wrong one.” He turned to me, his eyes crinkling into a smile, but carrying a distinct threat: “Sarah, you don’t mind, do you?” I looked at him, my fingernails digging painfully into my palms. Only I knew what he really meant. He was saying that marrying me was grabbing the wrong girl. He hadn’t made a mistake just now. From the very beginning, the one he wanted to hold was my sister. “I don’t mind.” My voice was so calm it surprised even me. He smirked, clearly satisfied that I was playing along. As we were leaving the house, I held the train of my dress and moved to get into the backseat of the bridal car. Julian, already sitting in the back, shot me a look and ordered: “Get out. You sit in the front. Let Chloe sit in the back.” I paused, looking up at him. The bride sitting in the passenger seat while the groom and the bridesmaid sat in the back? That was completely unheard of. He was intentionally humiliating me. “Why?” I gripped the door frame. “Do I really need to give you a reason?” He sneered. “Your sister gets carsick easily. Is that enough?” Carsick? Everyone knows that people who get carsick sit in the front seat. Several of the groomsmen and relatives exchanged amused, gossipy glances. My parents stood nearby, completely ignoring the scene, acting as if they hadn’t heard a thing. Julian smiled, leaning in close and lowering his voice: “Baby, for the sake of the child in your belly, just endure it for a bit. I promise you’re still the star of the show today.” “But you didn’t think getting me was going to be completely smooth sailing, did you?” The child. He was still using the child as a bargaining chip? I stared into his eyes and gave a chilling smile. “Alright.” I silently picked up my dress, closed the back door, and got into the passenger seat alone. My sister, without a word or even a glance in my direction, brazenly slid into the backseat right next to Julian. She even deliberately bumped my shoulder as she walked past, as if to make a point. Between a man and her sister, she always chose the man. When they slept together, when they signed the marriage license, and now. The convoy started moving toward the wedding hall. In the rearview mirror, I watched them secretly holding hands, their fingers intertwined, gripping each other tightly. Chloe’s expression was grave. She turned her head away, fighting back tears. Julian looked at her with pure, unadulterated heartbreak. What a pair of star-crossed lovers. I coldly looked away. Cry all you want. In a little while, I’ll give you exactly what you want. … Finally, it was time for the ring exchange at the altar. Chloe carried the ring box, walking elegantly down the aisle. The guests seated on both sides were whispering amongst themselves. “Why is the bridesmaid wearing white? Isn’t she clashing with the bride’s dress?” “Yeah, if you didn’t know better, you’d think she was the bride.” “She just wants attention. Who knows…” It was just idle gossip. No one truly cared. Julian took the women’s ring and slid it onto my ring finger. It was loose. It wasn’t my size. I looked down at the ring and suddenly spoke up: “This isn’t my ring.” Julian frowned in deep annoyance: “Sarah, stop making a scene. We’re in the middle of the ceremony.” I looked up at him, raising my voice, articulating every single syllable: “I said, this is not my ring.” In the next second, I grabbed my sister’s hand and shoved the ring onto her finger. The cameraman happened to be getting a close-up shot of the hands. On the massive screens behind us, everyone in the hall saw it clearly. The wedding band fit my sister’s ring finger perfectly. Flawlessly. A collective gasp echoed through the room. Chloe’s face went ghost white. She struggled to pull her hand away, but I held it in a vice grip. Julian glared at me, his face ugly, dropping his voice to a threatening whisper: “Sarah, are you out of your damn mind?!” “Think about the child in your belly! Do you want it to be born without a father?!” “Do you want to end up a pregnant, abandoned single mother?!” He sneered, absolutely certain he had won: “You better use your brain before you do something stupid.” “Ruining this wedding does neither of us any good.” “It does you no good,” I corrected him helpfully. “What?” He paused. “You’re the one who needs this marriage as a smokescreen, not me.” “And that child won’t be born without a father.” “Because,” my smile turned to ice, “it’s not going to be born at all.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “534527”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Chapter 1 1 I was born with an incredibly thick skin. Some might call it a profound lack of awareness. In elementary school, the kids in my class would laugh in my face and call me an orphan. I’d just puff out my chest with pride. “That’s right! I’m the only orphan in the whole school! That makes me the coolest one here!” The principal walked by once and thought I was being bullied so badly my brain had broken. Furious, he called all their parents in. Those kids went home and got the grounding of a lifetime. In my sophomore year of high school, a guy decided to play a cruel prank on me by “confessing his love” and giving me a bouquet of yellow chrysanthemums—the kind you bring to a funeral. I smiled brightly and took them. “Thank you so much! How did you know yellow chrysanthemums were my favorite?!” From that day on, every single time I saw him in the hallway, I’d smile and wave, shouting, “I still really love those funeral flowers you got me!” For the next three years, he was known exclusively as “Funeral Flower Guy.” Later on, my extremely wealthy biological parents finally tracked me down and brought me home. On my very first day walking through the door, my adoptive sister, the “fake daughter,” purposefully threw herself to the floor right in front of me and screamed: “I’m sorry! Please don’t hurt me!” My parents and my older brother rushed over in a panic. Before they could even start blaming me, I clapped my hands in sudden realization. “Oh! You’re practicing for an acting audition! Wait, I didn’t get to do my part yet, let’s do another take!” I grabbed her arm, yanked her to her feet, and then violently shoved her right back onto the floor. Seeing how utterly calm and unbothered I was, my family nodded in relieved understanding. Sometime later, the whole family went to a high-society gala in New York. My adoptive sister lured me into a secluded hallway and shoved me into a dark room. Sitting in front of me was the legendary, ruthless underworld boss of the East Coast. On the floor was a bleeding, half-dead man. I gasped and covered my mouth. The boss narrowed his dangerous eyes and slowly walked toward me. I bounced on my toes in excitement. “Oh my god, this is my first time seeing a live movie set! Can I be an extra?!” … The man stopped dead in his tracks. His face was hidden in the shadows, making it impossible to read his expression. Only his eyes, sharp and intense, were visible, staring straight at me. It felt like he was studying my reaction. Julian Vance knew exactly what his reputation was. Ruthless, unpredictable, a man who killed without blinking an eye… And it was all completely true. As for the last person who walked in on him handling “business”? They had been shipped off to an offshore black site. He didn’t know if they were still alive. But they were definitely missing a few organs. He figured I was probably just acting out of sheer terror to save my own skin. Fine. He’d play along. He pointed a finger at the door behind me. “The door is unlocked. You can leave.” He was lying, of course. If I turned around and walked out, it would prove my “clueless excitement” was just an act. The second I took a step toward that door, his bodyguards would materialize from the shadows and pin me to the floor. What would follow would be a very cold, very painful interrogation. But he waited for several seconds, and I didn’t turn around. Instead, I walked further into the room and crouched down next to the injured man on the floor. I poked his arm with my finger, and my pale skin quickly came away stained with red. “Wow, is this that professional Hollywood fake blood? It looks so realistic!” The man on the floor coughed up a mouthful of blood and croaked, “Save… save me…” I stared at him in silence, then turned my head to look at the man standing behind me. “What’s my line supposed to be here?” “Should I say ‘You can do it,’ or ‘It’s no use’?” Julian’s eyebrow twitched upward. He snapped his fingers. Two men in black suits melted out of the shadows. They stuffed the guy on the floor into a duffel bag and dragged him out. While they were doing that, I was busy wandering around the room, looking for the camera crew. Sadly, I couldn’t find them. But I quickly figured it out. Oh, they must be using hidden cameras for that gritty, found-footage style! After the man was dragged away, the door clicked shut again. Julian sat down in a chair a few feet away. He asked, “What’s your name?” I paused for a second, then immediately snapped my legs together and pressed my hands flat against my sides. Head up, chest out, I projected my voice clearly: “My name is Serena Sterling! My greatest strengths are that I’m hardworking and can endure long hours. No matter what the role is, I am confident I can nail it! Please give me a chance, Director!” Julian’s mouth twitched. But what had just happened involved highly sensitive syndicate secrets. He couldn’t risk anyone finding out. So, he played along. “That scene you just witnessed… is highly confidential. You are not to speak of it to anyone.” I nodded solemnly. “I swear I won’t leak any spoilers!” With that, he waved his hand, dismissing me. My excitement instantly deflated. Looks like I didn’t get the part. After leaving the room, I made my way back to the main ballroom. I immediately spotted Chloe, my adoptive sister, excitedly chatting with some guests. I walked up and tapped her on the shoulder. She turned around, saw me, and nearly jumped out of her skin. She gasped, “You’re actually okay?!” 2 I let out a heavy sigh. “I know you went through a lot of trouble to get me this audition, but sadly, I didn’t get the part.” Chloe’s face contorted in confusion. She had no idea what I was talking about. She had paid a massive bribe just to get the intel that Julian Vance was handling a traitor in that exact room. The undisputed king of the East Coast underground didn’t tolerate mistakes. Anyone who walked in on a scene like that was either silenced permanently or shipped far, far away, never to set foot in the US again. She thought she had finally gotten rid of the thorn in her side. She never expected me to walk back out completely unharmed. She ground her teeth in frustration. Just then, a wave of hushed whispers rippled through the crowd. A man dressed entirely in black strode into the ballroom, surrounded by an aura of absolute dominance and the terrified respect of the guests. When I saw him, my eyes lit up. “It’s him! Chloe, you have to help me one more time!” “If you managed to get me a first audition, you can definitely pull some strings and get me a callback, right?!” “What?!” She frowned, completely lost. Before she could process what was happening, I grabbed her hand and dragged her straight toward Julian. Seeing me, he stopped his conversation with the people around him. I nervously fidgeted with my fingers and said sheepishly: “Um, Director… could you please, for Chloe’s sake, give me one more chance?” “She pushed me into the room so suddenly earlier, I was too nervous and didn’t prep properly. I promise I’ll do way better next time!” After saying that, I flashed him the most innocent, harmless smile I could muster. Julian’s lips curved into a smirk, but his eyes were completely devoid of warmth. “You’re saying… she was the one who pushed you into that room?” “Yeah, exactly! Chloe was the one who pulled strings to get me this opportunity!” The moment those words left my mouth, all the color drained from Chloe’s face. She froze in place, her legs practically giving out. But she desperately tried to clear her name: “Y-you’re lying! Stop making things up! I don’t know anything! I’ve been in the ballroom this whole time, I had no idea where you went!” I laughed. “Oh, stop it! You literally said you were taking me to see something really cool, but I had no idea you had set up a surprise audition for me!” After all, I had been obsessed with acting since I was a little kid. Chloe always talked trash to me, but deep down, she was actually super supportive! I know she’s just a tough-love kind of girl, hehe. Chloe panicked. “I can find people to prove I was here!” She grabbed one of her rich friends, demanding the girl confirm they had been standing together since they walked into the ballroom. The friend, who had already been bribed by Chloe beforehand, was just about to nod. Then she looked up and realized the person asking the questions was Julian Vance. Her knees buckled. She stammered something about feeling dizzy and sprinted away as fast as she could. Chloe stomped her foot in pure, unfiltered rage. Compared to my total lack of anxiety, Chloe’s blatant, terrified guilt looked infinitely more suspicious. Julian wasn’t an idiot. He saw exactly what was going on. It seemed this woman had used some very shady methods to find out his schedule. But there were too many people in the ballroom, so it wasn’t the time to handle it. Instead, he smiled at me and said, “I can give you one more chance. I’ll send you the details.” I nodded enthusiastically. After Julian walked away, Chloe let out a massive breath she had been holding. She glared daggers at me. “Serena Sterling, you almost got me killed!” I looked at her, totally confused. “Huh?” A few seconds later, it hit me. “Ohhh! Did you secretly sneak me onto his audition list even though you don’t actually know him? No wonder he looked at you so weirdly! My bad, my bad.” Chloe stormed off, cursing under her breath. I was still standing there, doing some earnest self-reflection. Yeah, I should probably explain things to him next time so he doesn’t hold it against her. Three days later, a formal invitation bearing the Vance family crest was delivered to the Sterling estate. 3 Julian had invited me to dinner at an exclusive restaurant this Saturday at 7:00 PM. My entire family was completely shocked. And then, deeply terrified. Julian Vance’s power in New York was absolute, and his temper was notoriously unpredictable. Someone once said the wrong thing in front of him at a party. By the next morning, their entire company was bankrupt. Meanwhile, my brain was so hopelessly oblivious that if someone held a knife to my throat, I would probably just smile and say, “Wow, that knife looks so realistic!” My dad paced the floor in distress. My mom was practically in tears. My older brother just kept sighing. Only Chloe covered her mouth to hide a smug smile. She assumed Julian had finally realized what happened and was planning to dispose of me. I was completely baffled by their reactions. “I’m going to a callback audition. You guys should be happy for me.” Terrified that my parents might actually try to stop me, Chloe quickly chimed in: “Exactly! Mom, Dad, Serena is really just going for an audition. Who knows, maybe Mr. Vance will be in a good mood and cast her as the lead! Besides, Mr. Vance personally sent the invitation. We can’t exactly say no, can we?” Rejecting the undisputed king of the underworld was obviously not an option. Even though the Sterling family’s main business operations were in the Midwest, we still had significant investments on the East Coast. If we wanted to survive, we absolutely could not offend Julian Vance. After agonizing over it, my family had no choice but to accept it. They held my hands tightly, pleading with me: “Serena… please, please watch what you say and do.” I nodded firmly. If I want to nail this callback, I really need to bring my A-game! On Saturday, right before I left the house, Chloe pulled me into a secluded corner. Sneakily, she pressed a small, spring-loaded switchblade into my hand. She whispered conspiratorially, “I got this prop specifically for you! I heard the movie they’re casting for is an action thriller. If you whip this out during your audition, it will definitely impress him!” I squeezed her hand, deeply moved. “Thank you so much for going out of your way for me! I won’t let you down!” Watching me walk to the car, Chloe finally let out a dark laugh. “What an absolute idiot. Pulling a knife on Julian Vance? You’re a dead woman walking.” The reservation was for 7:00 PM. I arrived at the private dining room ten minutes early. To my surprise, Julian was even earlier. He was already sitting at the table. As soon as I walked in, he offered me a seat and asked what I wanted to eat. I said earnestly, “I’m fine with whatever, but when does our audition start?” He moved his eyes from the menu to my face. He realized I was being completely serious. I wasn’t joking. A look of genuine amusement crossed his face. After all, he had never met anyone quite as remarkably oblivious as me in his entire life. He set the menu down. “We can start right now.” I looked around the room. The men in black suits who were playing the bodyguards in the dark room weren’t here. Right now, it was just me and Julian in this private dining room. Looks like this is going to be a one-on-one scene reading. And there’s no script… this must be an improv test. Remembering what Chloe said about this being an action movie, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the switchblade, pointing the blade directly at Julian. I darkened my eyes, dropping my voice an octave, letting an aura of icy hostility wash over me as I sneered: “Julian Vance… today is the day you die!” The amused look on Julian’s face vanished instantly, replaced by something dangerously dark. His hand instinctively moved toward the holster strapped to his thigh. But before he could draw his weapon, the door to the private room was violently kicked open. A figure lunged into the room, a gun pointed squarely at Julian’s head. “Julian Vance… today is the day you die!” I froze. Huh? The exact same line? Damn it! Is this guy trying to steal my scene?! Doesn’t he see my audition isn’t over yet?! Julian’s heart dropped, a surge of lethal violence rising in his chest. One crisis right after another. He immediately assumed I was working with the gunman. His hand gripped the handle of his gun, fully prepared to send both of us to hell. But before he could draw, I moved with lightning speed, charging straight at the man with the gun. Before the assassin could even register what was happening, I tackled him to the floor. I kicked the gun out of his hand, pinned him down with my body weight, and pressed the switchblade against his throat. “Talk! Who sent you?!” 4 The assassin’s attention had been entirely focused on Julian. He hadn’t even noticed there was someone else in the room. And he definitely hadn’t expected me to have combat training. The sheer intensity radiating off me was terrifying. The tip of the blade was millimeters from piercing his skin. Terrified, he spilled everything. After coughing up the name of his employer, he was dragged away by Julian’s real bodyguards. Julian sat in silence for a long time before finally speaking: “Weren’t you afraid he was going to shoot you?” I cheered internally. He’s finally giving me my cue! Leaning into the dramatic tension of the scene, I said in my coolest voice: “No one touches you… except me.” Julian stared at me deeply for a moment, then laughed. “Very good. You got the part.” After that, I went home, blissfully waiting for the production team to send me the shooting schedule. Instead, what arrived was a formal marriage proposal from Julian Vance. My parents read the official document over and over again. They verified the Vance family seal. It wasn’t a fake. My entire family stared at me in absolute, utter shock. Chloe’s jaw practically hit the floor. When I had come home from the restaurant completely unharmed, she had been furious. She asked if I had chickened out and refused to pull the knife like she told me to. I told her I did pull the knife, and that my performance was spectacular. She had looked completely defeated. Even though Julian’s reputation was terrifying, his power was undeniable. He practically owned New York. There were countless elite families across the country who would kill for a marriage alliance with the Vance family. And now, this golden ticket had just been hand-delivered to our doorstep. But my parents still asked for my opinion. Without even looking up from my phone, I said, “Sure, why not.” Even though we had only met twice, I had a pretty good impression of him. Especially since he recognized my acting talent! It’s hard to find a director who truly understands your vision! So, my parents immediately sent a formal acceptance back to the Vance family, and the engagement date was set shortly after. When news broke that I was marrying Julian Vance, a flood of elite families rushed over to congratulate me, desperately trying to get on my good side. The gifts they brought filled an entire spare bedroom. Chloe was so jealous she was grinding her teeth in her sleep. Every day, she would whisper ominous warnings in my ear: “Serena, you have no idea what you’re doing. Julian Vance kills people for fun! If he gets annoyed, he takes it out on the people closest to him. You’re walking straight into the lion’s den!” “I’m telling you, back out now! But we can’t exactly reject the Vance family… how about this? I’ll make the ultimate sacrifice. I’ll go in your place…” My eyes widened in horror. “I could never let you do that! If it’s really that dangerous, there is no way I’m letting you take my place! You’re my best friend!” Chloe looked like she was going to cough up blood. And just like that, the day of the engagement party arrived. It was held at the Vance family’s private estate. There were thousands of guests, basically every powerful figure on the East Coast. I was placed in a luxurious suite on the second floor, waiting for the moment I would walk down the grand staircase with Julian. Soon, it was just me and Chloe left in the room. She glared at me for a moment, then suddenly walked over, plastering on a sweet smile, and handed me a small vial. “Serena, I did some digging. Julian has a massive sweet tooth, but he hates showing it in front of people. He always sneaks something sweet into his drinks. With so many people here today, it’ll be hard for him to do it himself. Why don’t you pour this syrup into his glass for him?” I took the vial without a second thought. After watching me personally empty the contents of the vial into Julian’s champagne glass, Chloe smirked in satisfaction and slipped out of the room. A few moments later, Julian appeared, and we walked down the grand staircase together. Julian took the glass of champagne from my hand and raised it to his lips. Suddenly, Chloe leaped out from the crowd, her face a mask of sheer terror, screaming: “Don’t drink that! It’s poisoned!” The ballroom erupted in chaos. Julian frowned deeply. “How do you know it’s poisoned?” Chloe pointed a dramatic finger directly at me. “I saw her put something in your glass with my own eyes!” With that, she cast a video feed from her phone onto the massive screens in the ballroom. The footage clearly showed me emptying a small vial of clear liquid into Julian’s champagne glass. Julian’s face instantly went dark. He grabbed my wrist, his grip like a vice. I let out a soft yelp of pain. The bodyguards stationed around the room instantly moved in, forming a tight circle around me. The guests looked at me with pity, clearly believing I was a dead woman walking. Chloe continued, her voice dripping with triumphant malice: “I just found the empty vial she threw in the trash! I had the residual liquid tested—it contains a lethal neurotoxin! One sip, and you would be dead in under an hour! Your internal organs would liquefy!” “Serena Sterling, how could you be so evil?!” But just as Chloe finished her dramatic speech, a collective gasp rippled through the crowd. On the massive screens, the video continued playing. After pouring the “poison” into the glass, I muttered to myself: “Will it really make it sweet? If I just take a tiny sip, nobody will notice, right?” And in the next second, I lifted the glass and took a sip. Simultaneously, in the real world, my vision went completely black. I collapsed heavily onto the marble floor. My family rushed forward in a panic. “Serena!” Julian, his face turning pale, caught me as I fell and roared, “Get a doctor! Now!”

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1 The day I returned to the family estate, my three brothers added me to a group chat named The Family. They promised that if I ever ran into trouble, I could post there and they would handle it. Though it stayed silent for months, I treasured it, believing I was finally loved after years in the orphanage. Later, I traveled for the National STEM Fellowship Selection. The night before, my stomach ruptured and I was rushed in with acute gastric perforation. Surgery required a guardian’s signature. I called Gary, the eldest, but he did not pick up. Garrett, the second, declined and texted that he was helping Giselle pick her birthday gown. Gabe, the youngest, answered, but Giselle was giggling for him to cut her cake. He muttered he would talk later and hung up. Curled on the gurney in agony, I sent my first plea to the group chat. Silence followed. With no one to sign, I nearly died on the table. The delay cost my health and the competition that would have rewritten my future. Discharged, I returned to the quiet mansion. Giselle waved her phone, showing a video the boys had posted, then clapped a hand over her mouth. Oh, she gasped, I forgot you are not in that group chat. I froze in the doorway. Gary cleared his throat, saying that group was mostly dead so they had muted it. The truth was clear. They had another chat that buzzed warmly without me. I said nothing, calmly pulled out my phone, opened their appeasement chat, and pressed Leave Group. Gary’s stiff laugh died in his throat. “Nick, seriously, that chat was always quiet. We just muted it by habit.” He pulled out his phone, quickly tapping into the dead chat to prove his point. Only a single message occupied the screen. “Guys, I’m in the ER. My stomach ruptured, and I need emergency surgery. They need a guardian to sign off. Please, can someone come?” The timestamp showed it was sent ten days ago. Gary’s expression shifted, a flicker of unease crossing his features. Garrett leaned over to glance at the screen, his brow furrowing slightly. “Was it really that serious?” “I had the surgery,” I replied quietly. “I survived.” “You’re fine now, right?” Gabe asked, looking up from his tablet. “Yes, I’m fine.” “Well, that’s a relief.” Gary tucked his phone back into his pocket, letting out a breath. “If you’re fine, why make such a big deal out of it? You should have called us directly.” I looked at him but chose not to answer. I had called. They simply had not cared enough to listen. Garrett seemed to recall something and casually asked, “By the way, what about that national fellowship? Did you qualify?” “I didn’t make it. The surgery happened the night before the exam. I was in the ICU.” The living room fell into a brief, awkward silence. Gabe was the first to shrug it off, tossing a hand over my shoulder. “It’s fine. Honestly, those national selections are incredibly brutal anyway. Even if you went, there was no guarantee you’d pass.” Gary nodded in agreement. “Those fellowships are meant for the absolute top prodigies. Don’t put so much pressure on yourself.” “Exactly,” Garrett chimed in. “You’re not like Giselle, who has been winning trophies left and right since she was a little girl. You don’t need to force yourself to compete at that level.” Gabe offered a lazy smile. “If worst comes to worst, we can always find some private college to take you in. It’s not like our family can’t afford to pay your tuition.” With a few casual, dismissive remarks, they swept away months of my sleepless nights and grueling study sessions. But they had no idea. Only thirty-two students in the entire country had qualified for that fellowship selection. I was one of them. During my junior year, I had won a national silver medal in mathematics and placed first in the state physics league. I had maintained the top rank in my class for six consecutive semesters. Meanwhile, Giselle did not even have the basic credentials to submit an application. Her so-called trophies were merely local youth piano recitals and school-level spelling bees. Yet, in my brothers’ eyes, Giselle was a brilliant, fragile princess. I was merely a dull, plodding bookworm who knew how to do nothing but memorize texts. Gary patted my head lightly. “Alright, lose the gloomy face. We’ll have Dad pull a few strings later on. Maybe we can send you to study abroad.” “Our Nick is always the good girl,” Garrett said with a grin. “She doesn’t let these little things get to her.” An overwhelming sense of exhaustion washed over me. They did not care about my pain; they merely used moral blackmail to praise me for being quiet. Giselle bounded over, wrapping her arms around Gary’s elbow. “Gary, you promised you’d help me choose the makeup look for my gala today!” With a gentle tug, Gary’s attention shifted entirely to her. “Right, right. Let’s go take a look.” Garrett handed a sleek designer bag to Giselle. “Here. The diamond bracelet you wanted. Took me forever to track down this specific edition.” “Oh, my gosh, Garrett, you are literally the best!” Gabe ruffled her styled hair. “Hey, what about me? I bought you that custom pendant, and I don’t get any praise?” The living room instantly filled with laughter and warmth once more. I stood by the entryway. On the shoe rack, four pairs of house slippers were neatly aligned. Gary’s black pair, Garrett’s dark blue, Gabe’s gray, and Giselle’s soft pink. There was no fifth pair. I bent down, slipped into my outdoor shoes, and quietly retreated to my bedroom, closing the door behind me. The surgical incision in my abdomen began to throb, and a faint crimson stain bloomed through the edge of the fresh gauze. My phone screen flickered. Gabe had sent a message to “The Family” group chat. “Let’s use this chat to coordinate from now on, guys.” Nobody replied. The chat sank back into the silence of a tomb. “Nick, are you awake? Perfect. Take Giselle to the skin clinic.” At seven-thirty the next morning, Garrett stood outside my door, tapping his watch. “She wants to get a quick laser facial before her gala. I booked her a ten o’clock slot, but a sudden meeting came up.” “My stitches aren’t even—” “You just need to sit in the waiting room with her,” he interrupted, his tone breezy. “It’s not like you have to do any heavy lifting.” He made it sound like a simple, effortless errand. By the time I threw on a jacket and walked downstairs, Giselle was already sitting in the back of the family SUV, applying lip gloss in the vanity mirror. “Nick, do you mind sitting in the front? I have a bunch of stuff back here.” The entire backseat was piled high with luxury shopping bags, all bearing prominent designer logos. I climbed into the passenger seat. As the seatbelt pressed tightly against my fresh incision, a sharp, white-hot pain shot through my core, forcing me to gasp for air. The driver started the engine. Giselle kept her head down, scrolling through her phone, occasionally letting out a soft giggle. “Gabe booked the entire riverfront venue for my gala,” she said, leaning forward to flash her screen in my face. “It’s insanely expensive.” I caught a glimpse of her open chat. The group name was “Giselle’s Fan Club.” The profile pictures of my three brothers were all active, and the messages were flying in. Gary had uploaded a digital rendering of the venue setup, adding a note: “Pink and gold themes for our princess.” Garrett had followed up with a string of thumbs-up emojis. Gabe had sent a voice note. When she tapped it, his warm, laughing voice filled the car: “I put together a video of your childhood photos to play on the main screen.” Noticing my quiet gaze, Giselle locked her phone with a swift slide of her thumb. “Nick, how are you planning to celebrate your eighteenth?” “I turned eighteen last month,” I said softly. “Oh? Really? Why didn’t anyone say anything?” “There wasn’t much to say.” On the fifteenth of last month, my actual birthday, all three of my brothers had been home. Gary was locked in his study, conducting a global video conference. Garrett was in the home gym, lifting weights. Gabe was out on the terrace, busy repairing a drone for Giselle. I had quietly cooked a simple bowl of noodles for myself, dropped in a single egg, and posted a rare update on my personal feed: “Eighteen today.” Two hours later, I had received a dozen likes from classmates, but not a single reaction from anyone in the house. Later that evening, Giselle had bounced into the living room carrying a slightly burnt cake. “Guys! I tried baking! Come taste it!” Within seconds, all three of them had swarmed her. Gary took a bite, teasing that it was too sweet, but happily took another. Garrett recorded a video to post online. Gabe simply carried half the tray to his room for a midnight snack. No one remembered my birthday. The cake was just a toy Giselle had made on a whim. But her whimsical creation was infinitely more important than my existence. At the clinic, while Giselle was taken back for her treatment, I sat rigidly on the plush waiting room sofa. The pain in my abdomen pulsed in steady, sharp waves. Because of the stitches, I couldn’t bend forward to ease the tension, so I had to remain completely upright, sweating silently. My phone vibrated. A message from Gary. “Is Giselle done? Take her out for that hotpot place she’s been craving afterward.” I stared at the screen, then typed a single word: “Okay.” I scrolled through my chat history with Gary. For the past three months, every single message from him had been an instruction regarding Giselle. “Pick up Giselle’s packages.” “Accompany Giselle to the music store.” “Pay Giselle’s dance academy fees.” My role in this household was not that of a sister. I was merely Giselle’s unpaid, live-in assistant. At the restaurant, Giselle ordered a table full of dishes, requesting the spiciest Szechuan red broth. I sat across from her with a bowl of plain white rice and a small side plate of unseasoned, boiled lettuce. “Why aren’t you eating the meat?” Giselle asked, her mouth full of beef. “My stomach is still recovering. I can’t have anything spicy.” “Oh. You really should have mentioned that earlier. We could have ordered a split pot.” She casually tossed another piece of tripe into the bubbling red broth, her tone entirely unbothered. Gary had made the reservation knowing Giselle loved spicy food. But not a single person had remembered that I had just undergone major abdominal surgery, and that a single drop of chili oil could land me back in the hospital. I swallowed a few leaves of the bland lettuce, the pungent, spicy steam from her pot making my eyes water. My stomach began to ache with a dull, familiar burn. Across the table, Giselle took a selfie with the fiery pot, uploading it to “Giselle’s Fan Club” with the caption: “Gary’s recommendation is literally the best! My mouth is on fire!” Three seconds later, Gabe replied with a voice note: “Save some for me next time!” Garrett sent an emoji of a drooling face. I placed my chopsticks down, looking at the pale green lettuce leaves. My mind drifted back to the small, sterile dining hall of the orphanage. The sweet kitchen lady, knowing I had a fragile stomach, would always quietly set aside a warm, plain bowl of rice porridge for me whenever the main menu was too heavy. A stranger at a charity home had remembered my health. My biological brothers did not even know the basics. On the tenth day after my surgery, I went to the clinic alone to have my stitches removed. As I stepped out of the clinic doors, my phone buzzed in my pocket. It was an email from my high school counselor, Mr. Abernathy. “Nick, the early admission track for Kingsley University is still accepting applications. Your competition record and academic ranking are well above their threshold. Would you like to submit your file?” I stood on the bustling sidewalk, staring at the screen for a long time. My path through the national selection had been cut short. But there was always another way out. I typed back: “Thank you, Mr. Abernathy. I want to apply.” His reply came almost instantly: “Excellent. I’ve already compiled most of your academic transcripts. Come to my office tomorrow and we’ll finalize the details. We have until Wednesday. We can do this.” In this vast world, someone was actively trying to help me find a future. It just wasn’t my family. When I returned to the estate, the entrance was cluttered with dozens of shoes, and the sound of music and laughter spilled out of the open doors. It was Giselle’s pre-gala warm-up party. Gary was on the terrace setting up a high-end grill, Garrett was adjusting the surround-sound speakers, and Gabe was running up and down the stairs with a massive bundle of pastel balloons. Giselle wore a beautiful white designer dress, her hair curled into soft waves, looking like the absolute center of the universe. “Gabe, that balloon is crooked! Move it to the left!” “Your wish is my command, your highness,” Gabe teased, quickly adjusting the string. I tried to slip past the crowd toward my room, but Gary caught sight of me from the terrace doors. “Nick, perfect timing. Go help prep the fruit platters in the kitchen. The catering staff is slammed.” I looked at him. He was wearing a custom apron, his face flushed from the heat of the grill, his eyes bright with excitement. “I just got back from the hospital—” “It’s just a bit of slicing and plating,” he cut in, already turning back to the grill. “You can do it standing up.” I walked into the kitchen. The counters were piled with crates of fresh watermelons, mangoes, and strawberries, all of Giselle’s favorites. I picked up the chef’s knife. As I brought it down on a watermelon, a sudden, sharp pull in my abdominal muscles made my hand tremor. The blade slipped, slicing deep into the pad of my index finger. A bead of dark red blood welled up. I stared at it for a few seconds. Then, I quietly wrapped a paper towel around it, squeezed the wound tight, and went back to slicing. At eight-thirty, the party reached its peak. My three brothers took turns giving toasts, offering touching speeches about how much their little sister had grown. Gary presented her with a classic Patek Philippe watch. Garrett gave her a rare, limited-edition skincare set. Gabe produced an elegant envelope containing round-trip first-class tickets to Paris. Giselle squealed with delight, throwing her arms around each of their necks in turn. No one noticed me sitting in the shadow of the kitchen archway, my bandaged finger tucked out of sight. No one remembered that a month ago, on my eighteenth birthday, I hadn’t received a single card, let alone a gift. I slipped back into my room and locked the door. Pulling out the checklist Mr. Abernathy had sent, I began compiling my application documents, scanning my certificates one by one. Outside my door, Giselle was singing a popular tune while my brothers cheered and clapped. I put on my noise-canceling headphones and focused on my laptop screen. When I finally finished, I checked my phone. There were no messages for me. In “The Family” group chat, Gary had posted a photo: “Amazing night, everyone! Giselle’s celebration was an absolute success!” Garrett replied: “Our sister deserves nothing but the absolute best.” Gabe shared a short video of Giselle blowing out her candles, captioning it: “Our princess is finally eighteen.” I stared at the screen for a long, quiet moment. It was fine. Just as I had written in the first line of my college personal statement: “I want to become someone who can walk a long, beautiful path, even if no one is watching.” Three weeks later. I received the official admission letter from Kingsley University. Along with it came a special invitation to join their elite Freshman Research Fellowship, a prestigious program that required me to report to campus early next month for a year of advanced study. I sat in the quiet corner of the school library, reading the letter three times over. I didn’t tell a soul. On my way home, I stopped by a local department store and purchased a simple, sturdy suitcase. It was just large enough to hold everything I actually owned. When I entered the house, Giselle was twirling around the foyer with her phone. “Gary! I want to sign up for that summer arts program in Florence!” “Go ahead and register. I’ll take care of the fees,” Gary replied, not even looking up from his laptop. I dragged my suitcase up the stairs. No one paid me any attention. In my room, I carefully folded my admission letter and the fellowship invitation, placing them at the very bottom of my new suitcase. I was going to step into my new life entirely on my own. The day I left, the clock read four-thirty in the morning. My room was at the very end of the long hallway, the smallest, darkest room in the house. When we had first moved in, Gary had told me, “This room faces north. It’s quiet, which is perfect for your studies.” Giselle’s room faced south, featuring a beautiful bay window and a private balcony, decorated with custom cherry-blossom pink drapes. My suitcase was light. There were very few things in this house that truly belonged to me. In the closet, there were two designer coats Gary’s assistant had purchased. The tags were still attached, and they were two sizes too large. They hadn’t been bought for me; he had simply ordered a bulk shipment for Giselle, and these were the leftovers. On the desk lay a small, faded sticky note Gabe had given me on my very first day in this house. It read: “Call me if you need anything.” I picked it up, flipped it over, and wrote a single line on the blank side: “I did call. No one answered. I won’t be needing anything anymore.” As I reached the front door, I placed my house keys in the small silver tray on the console table. Gary had handed them to me months ago, saying, “This is your home now. Keep these safe.” But this place had never been my home. The front door clicked shut behind me. I stood on the porch for a few seconds, listening to the absolute silence from within. It was just like the silence of their muted group chat. I wheeled my suitcase toward the elevator. The pre-dawn wind was cool, but it felt incredibly refreshing. It felt as though a heavy, suffocating weight had finally been lifted from my shoulders. My fellowship registration was in two days. A new city, a new campus, a place where no one knew my past, and no one would ever treat me like an unwanted assistant. The elevator doors slid open on the lobby level. The sky outside was still dark. Just me, my suitcase, and the beginning of my own life. Gary was the first to notice I was gone. He only noticed because there was no one to bring in Giselle’s morning deliveries. “Where is Nick? Tell her to go down and grab the mail.” Garrett stepped out of his room, brow furrowing. “Is she not in her room?” Gabe walked to the end of the hallway and pushed open the door to my room. The space was completely empty. The closet was bare. The desk was clear. The sheets on the bed were folded with military precision, looking exactly like a vacant hotel room. Only a single sticky note remained on the desk. Gabe reached out to pick it up. As his fingers touched the paper, he saw the neat handwriting on the back. Gary hurried to the entryway, his eyes landing on the silver tray. My keys lay there, catching the morning light. He picked them up, his fingers trembling slightly. “When… when did she leave?” No one had an answer. Because no one had been paying attention. Just like the desperate plea for help that had sat in their muted group chat, unnoticed for days. When I had arrived at this house, no one had truly welcomed me. And when I left, no one had even noticed. Gary frantically opened his phone, clicking into “The Family” group chat. A small system notification stared back at him: “Nick has left the conversation.” Gabe’s phone slipped from his hand, clattering onto the hardwood floor. Standing in the center of the cold, empty bedroom, a memory suddenly flashed in his mind. He remembered the missed call from the hospital ten days ago. After he had declined it, he had gone to help Giselle blow out her candles, taken photos, and posted them online. During all that time, he had never once thought to call her back. Garrett leaned against the doorframe, the color draining from his face. He remembered his own text message: “Helping Giselle pick out her eighteenth birthday gala dress. Later.” Later. A “later” that had almost cost his sister her life. Gary gripped the keys, his knuckles turning white. He turned back to look at the elegant foyer. On the shoe rack, four pairs of slippers were neatly aligned. None of them were mine.

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1 On my wedding day, Johnathan vowed Vivian, his ex-wife, was out of his life for good. Still, her mail kept arriving. Each time, he’d grumble about her failure to update her address, then haul the boxes to her place himself. Their constant fighting had convinced me he loathed her. On my birthday, Vivian called needing moving help. He grabbed his coat and left. Staring at our untouched cake, I followed in a cab. At her apartment, Vivian kicked a box. “Take your trash!” she shouted. The floor was strewn with jewelry Johnathan had given her. Red-eyed, he knelt, polishing each piece with his sleeve. When I tried pulling him up, my shoe brushed an old love letter. He shoved me back. “What are you doing here? Can’t you see we’re busy?” Watching this man who’d been screaming moments ago now groveling in dust, I unclasped my matching watch and tossed it into the box. “Find time,” I said. “Let’s sign the divorce papers.” … “Wendy, stop making a scene.” Johnathan caught up to me in the stairwell, grabbing my wrist. “What was the point of throwing the watch?” “Just keeping things tidy,” I said, looking him in the eye. “If it is all trash anyway, it might as well go in the same pile.” Johnathan sighed. “You know she is in a bad place right now. Throwing that in front of her is like twisting the knife in her chest.” I let out a soft laugh, my gaze drifting down to my wrist, which was turning red under his grip. “Johnathan, today is my birthday. You left me alone at home to go clean up your former wife’s clutter. Who is twisting the knife in whom?” His eyes flickered with a brief flash of guilt. “She is moving all by herself. She could not find a single soul to help her. I promise this is the absolute last time. Give me ten minutes. I will finish up here and take you home to cut the cake, okay?” Suddenly, a loud crash echoed from inside the apartment, followed by Vivian’s sharp cry. “Ah! It hurts!” Johnathan let go of me instantly and bolted back inside. “Vivian! What happened? Did something hit your foot?” I watched Johnathan drop to his knees in front of her, gently cradling her ankle. His voice shook. “Don’t move. Let me see.” Vivian pushed at him, tears streaming down her face. “Aren’t you supposed to go home and cut cake with your wife? Why do you care about me?” Johnathan’s voice was raw. “How can you say that at a time like this?” Suddenly, I remembered an incident from six months ago. I had cut my finger, and the blood would not stop flowing. Johnathan had bandaged it calmly, his movements steady and precise. “Be more careful next time,” he had said. “Don’t be so clumsy.” He was always composed, always rational and controlled. I used to think it was just his personality. Now I realized he was simply capable of remaining calm because it was me, not her. I turned and walked down the stairs. By the time I got back to our apartment, the candles on the cake had already burned down to nothing. At one in the morning, Johnathan finally came home. He saw me sitting in the dark, and his footsteps faltered. Then he wrapped his arms around me from behind, resting his chin on my shoulder. “It’s so good to be home. Today absolutely drained me. Why aren’t you asleep yet?” I said, “Waiting for you to eat cake.” He was quiet for a long moment, then murmured, “I’m sorry. Vivian’s ankle injury was pretty bad, so I had to take her to the emergency room. Happy birthday, sweetheart. This is for you.” He pulled a velvet box from his pocket. Inside was a diamond necklace. Johnathan clasped it around my neck. “Do you like it? I will take you to the mall tomorrow, and you can pick out a bag too. Don’t be mad anymore, okay?” I touched the cold metal of the necklace. “Johnathan, do you honestly think that as long as you come back to this bed, everything is just swept under the rug?” His brow furrowed. “I sleep next to you every night, I hand over my paycheck, what more do you want from me? She is in my past. She is going through a rough patch, and as a friend, I lent a hand. Is that so wrong?” I nodded. “You are right. You are a saint.” I stood up, unclasped the necklace, and let it drop. It landed in the trash can with a sharp clink. Johnathan’s face went pale. “Wendy, don’t push it.” I ignored him and walked straight into the bedroom. That night, he slept in the guest room. He did not come in to comfort me. The next morning, Johnathan, who rarely ever cooked, made breakfast. He even spread my favorite blueberry jam on the toast. His voice was gentle when he knocked on the door. “Sweetheart, breakfast is ready.” I washed up and walked out. He slid the plate toward me. “I was out of line last night. Don’t take it to heart.” I took a bite of the toast. “Okay.” Johnathan looked at me, seemingly satisfied. He assumed the storm had passed. For the past three years, it had always been this way. He would humiliate me, offer a shred of tenderness, and I would patch up my own wounds. Before leaving, he kissed my forehead. “I have an early meeting. I’m heading out.” That evening, I came home late after overtime. Johnathan was not back yet. I went into the study to charge my laptop. Passing his desk, I noticed the key was still in the bottom drawer. He never let me touch that drawer, claiming it held confidential company documents. I stared at the key for a few seconds, then turned it. There were no corporate files inside. Just a black leather journal. The very first page was dated three months after our wedding. “Wendy made sweet and sour ribs today. They were very sweet. But I remember how much you hated sugar.” My fingers froze. I kept reading. “Huge thunderstorm last night. Wendy slept right through it. I wonder if you, who are terrified of thunder, were hiding under the blankets, too scared to turn off the lights.” “Wendy said she wants to see the northern lights in Iceland. I agreed. But I wanted to take you there. That was our unfulfilled promise.” “Saw someone from behind today who looked just like you. I followed her for three blocks. When she turned around, it wasn’t you. I stood on the sidewalk, suddenly missing you so much.” Page after page. I was on every page, yet none of it was meant for me. Our three years of supposedly happy marriage had been nothing but a beautifully crafted lie. At ten-thirty, Johnathan returned. He opened the study door and saw the journal in my hands. His footsteps halted. His briefcase slipped from his hand, hitting the floor. “Why are you digging up old history?” He closed the journal and tossed it back into the drawer. “I stopped writing in that years ago. Are you really going to torture yourself over a few lines written ages ago?” He kissed my hair. “Don’t let someone from the past come between us, okay?” Looking at his devoted, self-righteous act, I found it incredibly laughable. I did not even have the energy to call him out. I gave a faint smile. “Okay.” “That’s my girl. Get some rest.” He took my hand to lead me to the bedroom. I followed him passively, but my eyes remained fixed on that locked drawer. Years ago? The last entry I had just read was dated only last month. Over the weekend, I was home alone when the doorbell rang. Thinking it was the building manager, I opened the door. Standing there was Vivian, dressed in a striking red dress. She held a luxury shopping bag, her chin tilted up proudly. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?” I did not say a word, simply stepping aside to let her pass. Vivian walked into the living room on her high heels, her eyes critically scanning the space. When she saw the painting of the aurora on the wall, she let out a soft laugh. “I can’t believe that painting is still here. I mentioned in passing once that I wanted to see the northern lights, and he kept it in mind all these years.” She sat on the sofa as if she owned the place, setting the shopping bag on the coffee table. “I’m just here to return some things Johnathan left at my place.” She pulled out a man’s dress shirt and a dark blue silk tie. It was what Johnathan had worn when he left the house yesterday. “He bought me dessert yesterday and accidentally spilled something on his shirt. He took a quick shower at my place to change.” Vivian leaned back, her eyes gleaming with triumphant arrogance. “Wendy, do you honestly think you’ve won just because you hold the title of his wife?” I walked over to the water dispenser and poured myself a glass of warm water. Seeing that I was not losing my temper, Vivian’s grin widened. “Do you know why we got divorced in the first place?” She leaned forward, locking her eyes onto mine. “It was only because I accepted a job offer abroad without telling him. He was furious and did it out of spite. He is incredibly proud. He married you just to prove he could survive without me.” She pulled a velvet jewelry box from her purse and popped it open. Inside was a brilliant diamond necklace. The diamond was far larger than the one Johnathan had given me. She pushed the box to the edge of the table, closer to me. “The one he bought you was probably just an afterthought, a quick add-on to his order. Wendy, doesn’t it feel pathetic to guard a man whose heart belongs to someone else?” Looking at the hostile woman before me, I expected to feel the old rage and jealousy. I expected to scream and tear into her. Yet, my heart was remarkably quiet. “Are you finished?” I took a sip of water. “If you are, take your things and get out of my sight.” I pointed toward the door. “Stop acting so high and mighty!” Vivian stood up abruptly, her face turning pale. “Johnathan is going to divorce you sooner or later!” “Great,” I said, looking her dead in the eye. “I’ll be waiting.” Vivian gritted her teeth, grabbed her purse, and slammed the door on her way out. I tossed the shirt and tie straight into the trash can. Then I picked up my phone, opened my chat with Johnathan, and typed a quick message. “Find some time. Let us sign the divorce papers.” It did not take long for my phone to start ringing. I muted it, placing it face down on the sofa. The screen lit up repeatedly, but I never answered. Eventually, I blocked his number. That night, Johnathan did not come home. Maybe he was throwing a tantrum because my blunt attitude had wounded his pride, or maybe he went to Vivian’s for comfort. I did not care anymore. Monday evening, at five-thirty, I walked out of my office building. Johnathan’s car was parked right by the entrance. He was leaning against the door, holding a half-burnt cigarette. Seeing me, he came over and grabbed my wrist. “Get in the car.” His voice carried a rare trace of panic. Once inside, he did not start the engine immediately. “Wendy, stop joking about divorce. Did Vivian come to see you yesterday? What did she say? Why are you taking a crazy woman seriously?” I stared out the window, my voice barely a whisper. “What she said doesn’t matter. What matters is that I’m tired.” Johnathan’s face darkened as he pulled out his phone. “I’ll call her right now and clear this up in front of you.” The call connected quickly, and Vivian’s lazy voice came through. “Johnathan? Why are you calling at this hour? Aren’t you worried your wife will get jealous?” “Vivian, who gave you permission to bother Wendy? You begged me to buy you that necklace, so what right do you have to brag to her? If you ever harass my wife again, don’t blame me for getting ugly.” There was a brief silence on the line, followed by a sharp, mocking laugh. “Johnathan, cut the devoted husband act. Who was the one showering and changing clothes at my apartment?” Johnathan slammed the end call button and threw the phone onto the console. He turned to grab my shoulders. “Wendy, you heard her, right? She did it on purpose. She just wants to ruin my life.” I turned to look at him. “You’re angry at her because her cheap tricks exposed you and brought you trouble, not because you actually feel guilty for what you did to me. Johnathan, you are incredibly selfish.” He was left speechless, his grip on my shoulders slowly loosening. It took him a long moment to regain his composure. “My father’s sixtieth birthday gala is next week. All our relatives and business partners will be there. As his eldest son’s wife, you cannot be absent. Let us get through the banquet first, and then we can talk, okay?” I laughed. “So you want me to keep playing the happy wife in front of everyone?” Johnathan frowned. “You are my wife.” He reached into the backseat and pulled out a large dress box. “I had this gown delivered for you. It’s in your favorite color.” Right then, my phone rang. It was his mother. “Wendy, dear, you need to come early to help oversee things for your father’s banquet. Johnathan’s company is in the middle of negotiating a major contract, and it’s a critical time. As his wife, you need to be supportive.” She paused, her tone turning pointed. “Don’t let minor, unverified gossip get between you two. Making a scene in public only makes us a laughingstock, and it is simply not worth it.” I looked at Johnathan. He sat in the driver’s seat, avoiding my gaze. He had actually run to his mother to handle me. I lowered my eyes and spoke softly into the phone. “Alright, I will be there on time.” Johnathan let out a massive sigh of relief and started the car. “I knew I could count on you to be reasonable.” Yes, I was always the reasonable one. That was why I was going to give him a public exit he would never forget. The next day, I placed the signed divorce papers inside the gift box intended for his father’s birthday. Beneath the papers lay the torn-out pages of his secret journal.

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1 We were mountain camping when Luke texted to meet him at the summit’s old stone chapel. Locals claimed its rusted bell bound couples for life. I hiked straight up without rest. Inside, the chapel stood empty. Night fell with torrential rain. Shivering in the dark, I huddled there until dawn. Battered and scraped, I limped back to camp the next evening. Through the trees, Luke sat by the fire, having lost Truth or Dare. A friend asked if he’d ever liked someone besides his girlfriend. His ears reddened; he chugged a beer instead. Across from him, Kate turned away, cheeks flaming, murmuring softly. The crowd roared, chanting for them to kiss. No one remembered I, his ten-year girlfriend, had vanished for a day and night. Standing in the shadows, I decided: this was over. Back in my tent, I pulled out the first aid kit and uncapped a bottle of antiseptic. The mountain trail had been turned into a slick, muddy slide by the storm. I had fallen more times than I could count, the jagged rocks tearing the palms of my hands into a bloody mess. At one point, I had completely missed a stone step in the dark and tumbled down a steep embankment. If my back hadn’t slammed into a thick pine tree, I would have gone straight over the cliff. Blood was still oozing from the deep scratches on my back. I hissed in pain, pressing a saturated cotton swab against the wound. That was when Luke walked in. His sharp brow bone was shadowed, his lips pressed into a tight, unforgiving line. After a decade together, I knew that look. He was angry. But my body ached too much to play his guessing games. It was undoubtedly about Kate. Ever since she entered our lives a year ago as his patient, the scales in Luke’s heart had tipped entirely in her favor. Just as I predicted, he frowned and crossed his arms. “Kate had some drinks tonight and her stomach is killing her. I told you to bring her the antacids. Why are you pretending you didn’t see my messages?” My wounds burned like fire, but a hollow laugh bubbled up from my throat. Pretending? If Luke possessed even a fraction of a second to actually look at me, he would have noticed the medical supplies scattered across the floor and the agonizing angle I had to twist into just to clean my own back. I didn’t say a word. I simply reached out and picked up his phone from where he had tossed it on my sleeping bag. Under his confused gaze, I opened our chat. The most recent message was from a week ago. It finally clicked. That text had been sent by Kate using his phone, and she had deleted it immediately after. Gritting my teeth against the pain, I pulled out my own phone, opened the chat, and shoved the screen toward him. [Stella, they say the old chapel at the summit is magical. Couples who pray there stay together forever. I’ll be waiting for you up there.] Luke stared at the screen cracked like a spiderweb, then looked up to finally notice the dried blood smeared across my cheek. Realization washed over his features. His frown deepened. “You actually believed that? You know I don’t buy into that superstitious garbage.” He swallowed whatever he was about to say next. I smiled, the expression tasting bitter. He was right. Luke was always the epitome of cold rationality, a man who never let his emotions dictate his actions. Even six months ago, when a stalker broke into my apartment and I was sobbing uncontrollably on the floor, Luke had simply chased the man off and then coldly lectured me for not being more aware of my surroundings. Yet, this notorious workaholic had suddenly suggested we go on a vacation. The scenic spot on the travel brochure was the exact place I had been begging to visit for years. I foolishly thought he was finally going to fulfill a promise he made six years ago, treating this trip as my ultimate birthday gift. Back then, Luke had just secured a full ride to the best medical school in Boston. On the day of our college graduation, he grabbed my hand. A rare, clumsy blush spread across his usually stoic face. “Stella, come to Boston with me. Wait for me. Give me seven years, and on your birthday, I’ll give you the grandest proposal you’ve ever seen.” I had frozen, laughing and crying all at once, scolding him for ruining the surprise by scheduling it out loud. But I still abandoned the stable job waiting for me in my hometown. I followed him without a second thought, supporting him through his brutal residency until he became one of the most sought-after clinical psychologists in the city. Looking back now, the signs were always there. That travel brochure had first appeared in Kate’s hands. Simply because she said the pictures looked pretty, Luke canceled a week of fully booked appointments and contacted a travel agency. I was only invited because their group package needed one more person to get the discount rate. Before Kate, whenever I begged him to take a weekend off to visit this exact mountain, he always brushed me off, claiming his schedule was too packed. The fog in my mind completely evaporated, leaving behind a razor-sharp pain. The heavy silence was broken when Kate unzipped the tent flap and poked her head in. She was holding a half-eaten kebab. “Luke, this steak is so tender, you have to try…” Her eyes landed on my bruised, bloodied state. Like a startled deer, she immediately shrank behind Luke’s broad shoulders. “I am so sorry, Stella. I just wanted to play a little prank on you. The trail was taped off with warning signs at the bottom, I never thought you would actually hike all the way up.” I placed my uninjured hand on the ground and forced myself to stand. Even though my swollen ankle sent shooting pain up my leg, I forced my spine straight, holding onto the last shred of my dignity. “A prank? Do you have any idea how many wild animals roam this mountain at night? I didn’t dare close my eyes for a single second. Coming down, I slipped on the wet stones and nearly rolled straight off a cliff.” Luke impatiently cut me off. “But you are perfectly fine now. Dragging it out just makes it look like you’re desperate for pity.” He let out a heavy sigh. “Besides, Kate is right. The trail was taped off. Why on earth did you force your way up there?” The burning fire in my chest turned to absolute ice. I curled my lips into a self-deprecating smile. Why did I force my way up? Maybe because I thought I was his exception. Because I thought he genuinely wanted a future with me. So I made a complete fool of myself. Suddenly drained of any desire to argue, I sat back down and reached for a fresh bandage. “It won’t happen again.” I meant every word. Luke looked like he had just thrown a punch into empty air. I was the one backing down, yet he looked inexplicably frustrated. But when he turned his head and saw the unshed tears pooling in Kate’s wide eyes, his tone softened instinctively. “Don’t do it again. No more jokes like this, okay?” She nodded aggressively, fat tears rolling down her cheeks. Luke looked entirely defeated by her crying. He took the half-eaten kebab from her hand and took a bite. “Alright, enough. Do whatever makes you happy. I spent months putting my little spoiled patient back together, I don’t want you regressing.” Kate broke into a watery smile, weakly punching his arm. “You’re the spoiled one.” “Oh really? Remind me who cried through an entire box of tissues during their first intake session?” His eyes sparkled with teasing warmth as they fell into their familiar, childish bickering. I sat there like a ghost haunting my own life, watching their effortless intimacy. My mind wandered. When exactly did this start? A year ago, Luke came home complaining about a difficult new client. She was overly sensitive, always crying. Three months later, he told me that after peeling back her layers, he realized they shared the same tragic background. Six months ago, he finally mentioned her by name. His expression had been impossibly tender. He had looked at me and said, “Stella, because I know the hell of a toxic family, I know how childhood trauma can paralyze someone.” “I want to heal the broken parts of her mind, exactly like you healed me back then.” That was the day I found out his mysterious patient was the new junior intern at my corporate firm. Because I knew how dark and miserable Luke’s childhood had been, I supported him taking on Kate’s case. His alcoholic, gambling-addicted father used to beat him mercilessly whenever he lost at the tables. When Luke was locked in a shed, starved and bruised black and blue, it was me who crawled through a gap in his backyard fence, smuggling him stolen bread and antiseptic cream. When we started school, the quiet, brooding boy had no friends. So I followed him around like a noisy shadow from elementary school all the way to high school. And now, the man I had spent over a decade warming with my own hands was pouring all of his patience and light into someone else. My eyes stung fiercely. I turned my head, refusing to look at them flirting right in front of me, and forced out a request. “Luke, my back is getting worse. I think it needs stitches. Can you please drive me to the hospital?” The playful laughter stopped dead. Kate pouted, murmuring under her breath, “We finally get to go on a trip and now this…” Luke’s face hardened. “The trip ends tomorrow. Do you seriously need to go right this second?” “Stella, know when to stop. This obsessive need for attention is just pushing me away.” I froze, entirely numb. Luke looked at me like I was a stranger he couldn’t wait to be rid of. “Kate is terrified of the dark, so I’m bunking in her tent tonight.” He paused at the flap, throwing one last justification over his shoulder. “Don’t overthink this. She is strictly my patient. There is nothing inappropriate going on between us.” That night, every cut and scrape on my body throbbed with a burning fever. I tossed and turned until dawn broke. The gauze on my back was soaked through with fresh blood, and my ankle had swollen to the size of a baseball, mottled purple and black. When I finally limped my way to the morning rendezvous point, Luke and Kate were nowhere to be found. Seeing me scanning the empty clearing, an older woman from a neighboring campsite walked over with a sympathetic look. “Looking for your friends, honey?” “That young couple packed up and left in the middle of the night. The girl twisted her ankle, and the boy looked like the world was ending. He insisted on driving her to the emergency room immediately. Navigating these mountain roads in the pitch dark… he must love her so much to take a risk like that.” I stopped listening after that. It made perfect sense that strangers assumed Luke and Kate were the couple. From the very first day of this trip, I was the third wheel. Whether it was the kayaks or the cable cars, anything built for two was reserved for them. Luke always looked at me and said, “Stella, wait for the next round. Kate gets severe anxiety, I need to stay close to her.” During the bonfire cookout, the first plate of food and the first poured drink were always handed to Kate. When another camper joked about how much he spoiled his girlfriend and warned him she’d get used to it, Luke just offered a polite smile. He never corrected them. By the time I reached the hospital in the city, I had to hop on one foot to the registration desk and navigate the ER completely alone. Just as the doctor finished stitching my back, my phone buzzed. It was my parents. “Stella, sweetie, Luke is such a thoughtful boy! He mailed us a whole box of expensive local gifts from your trip. Make sure you give him a big kiss to say thank you.” My parents’ voices were overflowing with pride and joy. From day one, they had treated Luke like the son they never had, entirely convinced he was the perfect man for me. The words ‘I’m leaving him’ and ‘I want to come home’ piled up in my throat, choking me. I didn’t know how to shatter their illusion. In the end, I swallowed my tears, choked out a ‘yes’, and hung up. Then, I drafted an email to my department head and submitted my formal resignation. The corporate handover process would take three days. Exactly enough time to pack up my entire life. It was late afternoon by the time I limped into the apartment. To my shock, the dining table was set with a few elegant home-cooked dishes, alongside a chilled glass of my absolute favorite sweetened almond milk. Luke rarely cooked. Even though the meal was simple, the beautiful plating screamed dedication. After practically starving at the hospital all day, my stomach cramped with hunger. I picked up the glass and took a sip, unable to stop a tiny, pathetic shred of warmth from blooming in my chest. I reached for a fork, but a shrill, whining voice pierced the quiet apartment. “That’s my almond milk!” I jumped, nearly dropping the glass. Turning around, I saw Kate standing next to Luke in the hallway. She was wearing my plush indoor slippers. She stomped over, her cheeks puffed out in anger. “Stella, Luke went to three different cafes to buy that for me! Taking things without asking is just stealing!” I looked at Luke, completely utterly baffled. “Why is she in our apartment? And since when is drinking milk from my own kitchen considered stealing?” Facing my outrage, he answered in a deadpan, clinical tone. “Kate fractured her ankle. She lives in a fourth-floor walk-up, it’s not safe for her to be alone. I’m the one who invited her to the mountains, it is my ethical responsibility to care for her.” “Just watch yourself from now on. Don’t touch her things.” Looking at the massive bags of her groceries and clothes in his hands, I knew there was no room for debate. It didn’t matter. I had three days left. He could move ten Kates into this apartment for all I cared. I didn’t argue. I turned back to the table, ready to finish eating. Luke grabbed my wrist. “Order some takeout. I calculated the macros in this meal specifically for Kate’s bone recovery.” A wave of intense nausea hit me. My appetite vanished instantly. I pulled my arm free and headed straight for the master bedroom. Once again, his hand clamped down on my arm. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a sleek velvet box. “Stella. Happy birthday.” The logo on the ribbon screamed luxury. Luke had never been stingy when it came to spending money on me. But right now, looking at the velvet box felt like looking at a rock. I took it and mechanically untied the ribbon. Inside was a limited-edition designer bag that would make most women scream with joy. But it was the exact same model he had bought me last year. And the year before that. He hadn’t even bothered to pick a different color. A profound sense of exhaustion washed over me. Standing nearby, Kate let out a dramatically exaggerated gasp. “Wow, I am so jealous of you, Stella! You get a thousand-dollar bag for your birthday.” “When it was my birthday two days ago, Luke only gave me a silver ring he designed and forged himself in a workshop.” Luke reached out and affectionately pinched the back of her neck. “You little brat. Did you conveniently forget the burn blisters I got all over my hands making that for you?” Here we go again. Even though my heart was already dead, a fresh wave of humiliation crashed over me. I remembered watching a vlog of a couple making silver rings together. I thought it was so romantic, so I begged Luke to take a workshop with me. What had he said back then? That it was juvenile. A complete waste of his valuable time. Now I knew the truth. It wasn’t a waste of time. I just wasn’t the woman worth wasting his time for. I had no desire to watch this twisted soap opera. I sped up my limp toward the master bedroom. He yanked me back a third time. “What do you want?!” My stitches were pulling, my ankle felt like it was on fire. I glared at Luke with raw irritation. Perhaps he finally noticed the genuine agony in my eyes. For a fleeting second, Luke looked uncertain. “Stella, Kate’s bones need calcium to heal. The master bedroom gets the best morning light. You let her have the bed, and I’ll sleep in the guest room with you…” I cut him off before he could finish his sentence. “No problem. But you can sleep on the couch. I don’t need your company.” The next afternoon, I hobbled into my office building on crutches. I barely made it through the glass doors before a panicked coworker sprinted up and grabbed my arm. “Stella, the final project handover is a complete disaster!” “The new tech prototype specifications from two days ago? Someone moved a decimal point. The entire manufacturing batch is ruined. The company is liable for three million dollars in damages! Upper management is out for blood, and Kate swore to the board that you built that data sheet!” I froze, the blood draining from my face. Ever since Kate joined my division, she had been notoriously careless. As her manager, I knew how brutal the corporate world was for fresh graduates, so I covered for her, giving her second and third chances. I never imagined she would use the exact day I was in the hospital getting stitches to bypass me completely and send unverified blueprints to the factory. I had personally crunched those numbers flawlessly, and explicitly told her to leave the file on my desk for final approval before clicking send. My heart hammered against my ribs as I rushed into the glass-walled conference room. Luke was there. Kate was standing right beside him, crying beautifully, looking like a fragile victim. “Stella gave me that spreadsheet. She ordered me to submit it to the factory. I’m just a junior intern, how would I ever have the authority to bypass a senior manager?” A blinding rage ignited in my chest. I opened my mouth to defend myself. Luke placed my work laptop on the mahogany table. “I am Stella’s partner. I can testify that she was the one who compiled this report.” He tapped the keyboard, projecting IT activity logs and our internal chat history onto the screen. They had come fully prepared. Against fabricated digital evidence, every defense I had was suffocated in my throat. I couldn’t prove a thing. The board decided to suspend me pending a formal investigation, but Kate had already won the narrative. Walking out of the skyscraper, Luke reached out, his voice gentle as he tried to wipe away the tears streaming down my face. “I’m sorry, Stella. Kate told me this job is the only thing keeping her mental health stable. I had to intervene.” “I’ll pay the three million dollars in damages for you. With your stellar resume, you can easily land a director role at a better firm.” I slapped his hand away. “You know exactly how much blood and sweat it took for me to climb to this position! If the board officially pins this negligence on me, I will be blacklisted from the entire industry!” Luke just stared down at me, his eyes dead and resolute. “I’m sorry, Stella. You’re the only one strong enough to take this fall.” It didn’t take long for me to understand what he really meant. That evening, a video titled ‘Corporate Manager Drives Junior Intern to Depression’ rocketed to the top of every social media trending list. In the video, Kate looked pale and haunted, crying hysterically as she detailed how her ‘jealous superior’ bullied her daily and forced her to take the blame for a million-dollar blunder. Luke, leveraging his status as a respected psychologist, commented on the post, verifying his ‘girlfriend’s’ toxic behavior. The internet exploded. Furious strangers hunted down my digital footprint, exposing my full name, phone number, and address. My phone didn’t stop ringing. Death threats, insults, heavy breathing. And then, they found my parents’ landline. At one in the morning, my mother called me, her voice shrill with absolute terror. “Stella, what is happening! Your father picked up the phone and people were screaming at him for hours, calling you a criminal, saying you were going to federal prison! His heart gave out. He’s in the ICU right now, they’re trying to resuscitate him! You have to come home!” A deafening ringing filled my ears. I couldn’t pull oxygen into my lungs. In my absolute darkest moment, I saw Luke walking into the hallway, keys in hand, pulling on his coat. Despite the venomous hatred I felt for him, I couldn’t afford to waste a single second. I lunged forward and grabbed his sleeve, begging. “Luke! My dad had a heart attack because of the harassment! He’s in the ER! The flights are grounded because of the weather, please, you have to drive me to Chicago! Please, remember how he used to treat you when we were kids, I’m begging you!” I saw the conflict in his eyes. A flash of hesitation. But then his phone lit up. He glanced at the screen, and the hesitation vanished, replaced by cold panic. “Stella, Kate just texted me. She’s having a severe panic attack. She’s standing on the edge of her apartment roof!” “Be rational. I’ll go talk her off the ledge, and then I swear I’ll drive you straight to Chicago to see your dad.” Without another word, he violently ripped his sleeve from my grip and sprinted out the door.

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