Author: Momo Chan

Three months into my gig impersonating the spoiled trust fund idiot, Grant Harrington tossed his burner phone at me and told me to keep his fiancée on the hook. “Flirt, Jamie, not fall,” Grant warned, his eyes barely lifting from the twenty-year-old on his lap. “You mess this up, and your scholarship money is the first thing I cut.” To keep the lights on—and, more importantly, to keep my grandmother alive—I spent the next ninety days showering Delaney Croft with sickeningly sweet devotion. Morning and night texts. Weather reports. Even cutesy, slightly breathless voice notes that made my skin crawl. It worked. Eventually, the untouchable East Coast heiress actually started to thaw. Then came the night she messaged the burner phone to tell “Grant” she’d sent him a gift. My mind was clearly running on fumes. I picked up my personal phone—my main, private number—and tapped out a reply: Got it, babe. Love you! I sent the message and went straight to the shower. When I came back, the screen was illuminated by a single, icy cold punctuation mark: ? It was my personal chat with Delaney Croft. Not the burner. The situation spiraled from bad to catastrophic a few days later. At the welcome-home dinner, Laney decided to call her supposed fiancé—Grant—in front of the entire elite crowd. I was standing right beside him when my phone, resting innocently in my pocket, let out a cheerful, jarring ring. 1 It was my third year serving as Grant Harrington’s all-purpose gopher. His family’s finances were suddenly precarious, and they were strong-arming him into an arranged marriage with the notorious Laney Croft—heir to the Croft empire. Grant, whose ego was as big as his trust fund, wouldn’t be caught dead doing the grunt work of a relationship. So, he threw his second phone at me. “You handle the heavy lifting,” he drawled, still half-distracted by the ingenue he was currently dating. “You bore her, you piss her off, or you break the whole thing off, and I guarantee your tuition for the semester disappears. Find another way to pay for that old woman’s medical bills.” I clutched the phone like a live grenade. For that life-saving money, I was forced to channel my inner hopeless romantic, meticulously crafting every cheesy line and heartfelt inquiry. It was an exhaustive exercise: from basic Good mornings and Good nights to cringey pickup lines, from the five-day weather forecast to her weekly horoscope. After three months of this fabricated intimacy, Laney Croft—the one they called the Ice Princess—actually softened. Her replies grew warmer, her texts longer, and she started initiating conversations. Until that night. She texted the burner phone to say she’d dropped off a gift with the dorm security guard and reminded “me” to pick it up. My brain must have short-circuited. I didn’t even think, sending a quick reply from my main number: Received! Thank you, babe. Love you the most! The reply was instantaneous, though I didn’t glance at it. I shoved my phone under the pillow and headed to the bathroom, humming a tune. The cold water hit my face, and the adrenaline kicked in. Wait. The burner phone—the Grant phone—was sitting on the desk, plugged in. So the phone I’d just used was… I didn’t even bother to towel off my hair. I wrapped myself in a thin bath sheet, bolted back into the room, and snatched up my private cell. My world went black. That syrupy, embarrassing “Love you the most!” message hung there, frozen in time. Laney didn’t respond with her usual ‘Aww’ or ‘Hug’ emoji. She responded with utter, chilling detachment: ? I scrolled up to her previous message: I left a gift for Grant with the security desk. Make sure he remembers to grab it. I was ruined. My hands shook so violently I could barely tap the screen. The dreadful two-minute window for un-sending the message had already passed. I took a ragged breath, my mind racing for a cover story, before I typed out a desperate, shaky text: My apologies. Wrong recipient. Lost a bet in Truth or Dare with my girlfriend. I’ll remind Grant about the gift. Thanks. I felt like a condemned man waiting for the executioner. About thirty seconds later, Laney replied. As sparse and glacial as before: K. My heart, which had been lodged in my throat, finally plummeted back to my chest. I quickly abandoned my personal phone and picked up the burner. As soon as I unlocked it, Laney’s messages popped up, her tone utterly different from the one she’d used moments before: Darling, my work here is finished. I’m flying home tomorrow. When I land, let’s get the engagement party planning started. How does that sound? I stared at the screen, and the fragile sense of relief I’d just gained shattered. 2 Since freshman year, to cover my grandmother’s crippling surgery costs, I’d signed a devil’s bargain—becoming Grant Harrington’s exclusive, twenty-four-hour gopher. I did his laundry, ran errands, wrote his damn papers. Three months ago, the Harrington family investment firm ran into major trouble, desperate for the cash infusion the Croft Group could provide. Grant was forced into the courtship with the notoriously demanding Laney Croft, who was overseas tending to an expansion deal. It was a long-distance relationship by necessity. Grant, with his temper and short attention span, lasted less than three days before throwing the phone across the room, complaining that Laney was a “total ice block” and not worth the effort. To save his family’s future—and, consequently, my paycheck—he came up with the toxic solution: have me impersonate him. “Just keep her happy, and the money’s yours.” I looked at the pitiful balance in my bank account and took the job. To execute the role of the devoted, romantic boyfriend, I studied Laney Croft’s social media and public profiles religiously. What she loved, what she hated, her taste in music, her favorite novels—I knew them better than I knew myself. When she was stressed, I sent jokes; when she was tired, I recorded myself playing soft piano pieces. Slowly, her detached “Hmm” and “Okay” transformed into long, emotionally resonant voice notes. She started sharing her daily schedule without being asked. I convinced myself this was nothing more than a profitable transaction—until she announced she was returning home to get engaged. I knew my performance had reached its final curtain. 3 I spent an all-nighter compiling a multi-page, hyper-detailed dossier. I meticulously outlined every one of Laney’s likes, dislikes, favorite private jokes from our chats, and even her known emotional triggers. After printing it, I headed downstairs to the security desk to collect the gift she’d sent. I drove straight to Grant’s ridiculously expensive off-campus apartment. When I walked in, Grant was having a loud, messy party with a few friends. Empty bottles and junk food cartons were scattered everywhere. I handed him the gift and relayed the news about Laney’s return. Grant nonchalantly took the box, ripped it open, and peered inside. A hand-stitched rabbit plushie lay nestled within. It was beautifully crafted, clearly high quality, and probably took hours to make. Grant held it up by one ear, his face screwed up in disgust. “What is this garbage? A cheap bunny? Is she trying to treat me like a five-year-old?” I kept my voice low. “I mentioned I liked rabbits once, in a message. Maybe she remembered.” “So lame.” Grant tossed the plushie back at me. “Take this cheap crap. I don’t want it cluttering up my space.” “Next time, remind her I like a Patek Philippe, or maybe a new Tesla, not some kindergarten craft project.” I clutched the rabbit close. I knew it was hers; she’d shown me a half-finished video of it a few weeks prior, her fingers taped up with small bandages. I suppressed the bitter pang in my chest and handed him the binder. “This is the dossier. All the details. You need to review this before you meet her.” Grant didn’t even look at it. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. God, you’re so tedious, Jamie. Are you my mother now?” I swallowed my reply and said no more. A few days later, Laney arrived. Grant dressed in his most expensive suit and took me along to the welcome-home dinner. I walked silently behind him, a human shadow tasked with carrying his files. At the entrance to the exclusive private dining room, Grant’s current girlfriend called. He turned to me. “Go in and grab a table. I’ll take this call in the hall.” I nodded and pushed the door open. The room was dimly lit. Before I could fully assess the occupants, a long, elegant hand reached out and took the bag from me. The hand then slid down my arm, fingers gently but firmly lacing around mine. A low, amused voice exploded in my ear. “That messenger bag—the one you said you liked? It really suits you.” It was Laney. I’d heard that voice a hundred times over the phone, but hearing it live, so close, sent an electric current down my spine. I froze, lifting my head awkwardly. In the dim light, Laney’s eyes finally focused on my face. The soft smile on her lips instantly solidified. The hand holding mine recoiled as if I’d electrocuted her. “My apologies,” she said, her voice dropping to a chill. “I mistook you for someone else.” 4 Just then, Grant pushed the door open. He saw us standing opposite each other and asked, puzzled, “What’s the hold-up? Playing doorman, Jamie?” Laney’s expression snapped back to the picture of poise. She stepped past me, went straight to Grant, and took his arm, offering a dazzling, soft smile. “Nothing, darling. I saw his silhouette and thought it was you for a second. My mistake.” Grant chuckled, and the two walked into the room arm-in-arm. I trailed behind, finding the most inconspicuous spot in the corner. Laney’s crowd was the East Coast elite—old money, fast living. Grant, eager to please, immediately started charming everyone. After a few rounds of drinks, Grant decided to play the doting fiancé. He peeled a large shrimp and, smiling sweetly, held it up to Laney’s lips. “Open up, babe. Say ahhh—” The air in the room instantly thickened. A few of her closest friends exchanged nervous glances. My stomach dropped. In the very first line of that dossier I’d given Grant, printed in bold, red, ALL CAPS text was the warning: LANEY CROFT HAS A SEVERE, LIFE-THREATENING SHELLFISH ALLERGY. A SINGLE SHRIMP COULD CAUSE ANAPHYLACTIC SHOCK. Grant hadn’t read a word. Laney stared at the shrimp, her eyes unreadable, and didn’t open her mouth. Before the moment could crystallize into complete disaster, I blurted out a soft warning from the back of the room: “She’s allergic to shellfish.” Grant’s motion stuttered. But he recovered instantly. He rotated his wrist, popped the shrimp into his own mouth, and winked at Laney. “Gotcha! Just kidding, babe. I knew you couldn’t. Just trying to mess with you a little, see you squirm.” Laney’s rigid composure relaxed. She laughed, a low, dismissive sound. “You’re so funny.” The crisis was averted. I sighed in relief and took a long drink of the juice in front of me. After dinner, the crowd moved on to the usual fare: Truth or Dare. Halfway through the game, Grant announced he needed the restroom and told Laney to wait up. My cheap messenger bag and his expensive leather one looked similar and were placed side-by-side on the sofa. Laney reached for what she thought was Grant’s, accidentally knocking mine to the floor. Thwack. The contents spilled everywhere. The hand-stitched rabbit plushie rolled out, completely exposed in the ambient light. Laney’s hand, which had been reaching to gather the scattered items, froze. She picked up the rabbit, her thumb lightly tracing the small, slightly crooked ‘D’ she’d embroidered on one of its ears. “This bunny…” She lifted her head, her gaze piercing me. “Why do you have this?” 5 In that instant, I felt the blood drain from my entire body. How could I explain? Say it was a common design? It was a unique piece, made by her. Say I was holding it for Grant? Grant had walked out empty-handed. My mind was a catastrophic mess of fear. Before I could form a single coherent thought, Grant’s voice shrieked from the doorway. “Jamie Brooks! What the hell—did you just steal this?!” He stormed over, snatched the bunny from Laney, his face contorted in manufactured rage. “I’ve been nothing but good to you, given you money and a place to stay, and you knew this was Laney’s engagement gift to me! Why would you steal it?!” The room erupted in whispers. Contemptuous stares stabbed me like a thousand needles. “Oh my God, you can’t trust anyone. He looks so quiet and harmless, but he’s a thief.” “That’s absolutely disgusting, stealing your boyfriend’s gift. Is he some kind of lowlife with a fetish?” “He’s probably just jealous of Grant. Trying to get the Croft heir’s attention? Pathetic.” I opened my mouth to defend myself. Grant suddenly pulled me into a feigned embrace, and in a voice only I could hear, he hissed into my ear: “You say one word, and your grandmother’s surgery money is gone. Every cent.” “Take the fall. I’ll transfer you five grand later.” 6 That five thousand dollars was my grandmother’s vital next month’s medical payment. Every shred of my dignity, every ounce of my mounting bitterness, was worthless against that cold, necessary number. I dug my fingernails into my palms, the pain a single tether to reality. I lowered my head, my voice raspy and unrecognizable. “…I’m sorry. I stole it.” “It was so cute, I had a moment of stupidity… I apologize.” 7 Grant smiled, a look of smug benevolence on his face. “Fine. Since you’ve confessed, I won’t press charges.” He turned to Laney and took her hand. “Laney, don’t be upset. Jamie comes from nothing. He’s never seen nice things before. He just had a moment of weakness.” Laney shot me a cold, penetrating look, thick with distaste and aversion, as if I were a piece of refuse. She didn’t speak. She simply took the rabbit that I had just touched and dropped it into the nearest waste bin. “It’s tainted now. Trash.” She shrugged. “I’ll make you a new one, babe.” A crushing weight slammed into my chest. That rabbit was made from hours of her effort—I’d watched her work on it on video—and now, because my fingers had grazed it, it was garbage. The game resumed, the atmosphere now tense and strange. Unfortunately, I lost. The one holding the King card was none other than Laney Croft. She leaned back on the sofa, twirling an eyeliner pencil between her fingers. Her eyes flicked to me, and a small, cruel smirk twisted her lips. “Dare, hmm… Let’s go with this: Pick an opposite-sex person here and feed them something.” She paused, then added: “No hands. Mouth to mouth.” The room went completely silent. It was pure, undiluted humiliation. But I had no right to refuse. I scanned the faces. Everyone avoided my eyes as if I carried a contagious disease. Just as I felt the blood rushing to my face, a plump, aggressively sleazy girl named Tasha Rourke stood up. She was known for her promiscuous reputation. “Since no one wants the honor, I suppose I can lower myself to help out.” She offered a predatory, leering smile. Someone handed her a long, thin pretzel stick. Tasha bit one end, signaling for me to take the other. I looked at her shiny, oily face, my stomach turning a violent somersault. I leaned forward, trembling. Just as my lips were about to touch the pretzel, I couldn’t stop myself. I turned my head and gave a small, dry retch. “Enough!” Grant finally stepped in. He didn’t want the spectacle to ruin his image. “Laney, let’s not take this too far. It’s gross.” Laney didn’t press it. She threw the card down. “Fine. Let’s wrap it up.” Tasha sat back down, disappointment etched on her face, and shot me a murderous glare as she left. After the dinner, I drove Grant back to his apartment. At the entrance to his building, his phone pinged. Five thousand dollars hit my account. “Keep your mouth shut, and there will be more where that came from.” He strode into the house in his expensive loafers. I sat in the car, staring at my phone screen. The burner phone—the one I used to text Laney—suddenly lit up. The message from her was so soft, so honey-sweet, it could drip off the screen: Hey, babe. Guess I took care of that disgusting little gopher for you tonight. He looked completely crushed. Don’t let a lowlife like that ruin your mood. XOXO. I stared at the words, and the tears I’d held back all evening finally broke. 8 The next day, I was working my shift at The Buttercup bakery. I still needed tens of thousands of dollars for my grandmother’s full course of treatment, and Grant’s sporadic payments weren’t enough. The lunch rush was over, and the shop was quiet. The bell above the door jingled, and Tasha Rourke walked in. She walked straight to the counter, not buying anything, just staring at me. “Jamie Brooks, right? Last night wasn’t very satisfying. How about we pick up where we left off somewhere else?” She reached across the counter to grab my hand. I recoiled violently. “Ms. Rourke, there are security cameras. I advise you to back off.” “Oh, playing the victim now?” Tasha sneered. “You steal Grant’s throwaways. You’re desperate for cash, aren’t you?” “Work for me. I’ll give you fifty grand. Fifty times five grand.” She rounded the counter and grabbed my wrist with surprising, brutal force. “Let go!” I struggled, but she was like a solid wall of muscle. In desperation, I grabbed the nearest object—a sharp ballpoint pen—and slammed it down into her hand. “Agh!” Tasha cried out, releasing my wrist. Blood immediately pooled on her skin. I used the opportunity to sprint toward the back kitchen. “You little bastard! You stabbed me!” Tasha’s eyes were bloodshot. She grabbed a chair and chased after me. Just as she was about to tackle me, the shop door was kicked open with a thunderous CRASH. A slender figure in a tailored black suit stormed in and delivered a vicious, textbook-perfect roundhouse kick to Tasha’s stomach. Tasha flew backward like a sack of rocks, smashing into the wall, where she collapsed, groaning. I stared, utterly stunned, at the woman who was now standing between us. It was Laney Croft. Why was she here? How did she have that kind of strength? Laney calmly smoothed the fabric of her skirt and looked down at Tasha. Her voice was pure ice. “You dare cause a scene in my territory? Do you have a death wish?” Tasha recognized the danger. Her fear was palpable. She scrambled to her feet and fled, tripping over herself. The shop fell silent. Laney slowly turned, her focus landing on me. I instinctively flinched. She didn’t move. She just pulled a pack of tissues from her pocket and tossed it to me. “Wipe your face. You’re filthy.” I caught the tissues and murmured a thank you. “Don’t read too much into it.” Her voice was as remote as ever. “You’re Grant’s property. If something happens to you, he’ll be inconvenienced.” “I just don’t want to deal with his complaints.” Of course. I gave a dry, self-deprecating smile. Any absurd flutter of hope died instantly. “I understand, Ms. Croft. Thank you.” My replacement arrived. I gathered my belongings and prepared to leave. Laney followed me. “Get in. I’m heading to Grant’s place anyway. I can drop you off.” Before I could refuse, she unlocked the passenger door and gave me an unyielding look. I had no choice. I got into the passenger seat. 9 The silence in the car was heavy. Laney didn’t remember. But we had met years ago. I was fifteen. My parents had divorced, remarried, and neither wanted the burden of a teenage son. I was kicked out and living on the street. That night, I was huddled outside a corner bodega, starving. I needed fifty dollars for a textbook fee the next day, and I was completely broke. I tried asking the local pizza joint if they needed a dishwasher, but the owner waved me off. “Beat it, kid. You’re bad for business.” Just as I was sinking into despair, a clear, crisp voice spoke behind me. “How much do you need?” I looked back. A girl in a private school uniform was standing there, holding a bottle of water, looking down at me. Laney Croft back then had none of the ice she carried now. She was clean and luminous—an angel. I sniffled. “Fifty dollars.” She pulled a hundred-dollar bill from her wallet and handed it to me. “Keep the change.” I froze, shaking my head violently. “No, I can’t take charity.” I ran into the bodega, got the bill broken, and ran back, handing her the fifty-dollar change. “Consider it a loan. I will pay you back.” I gathered my courage and asked, “What’s your name?” She took the money back, smiled faintly, and said, “Delaney Croft.” That single smile lit up my entire gray, desolate adolescence. Unfortunately, she had long forgotten the desperate, dirty boy outside the deli. Now, her focus, her affection, was entirely on Grant Harrington. The light turned red. The car stopped. Laney picked up her phone, her elegant fingers tapping away at the screen. The next second, my phone, in my pocket, vibrated.

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It was three a.m. I’d just managed to settle the baby, my entire body aching, when I picked up my phone and scrolled past a post on a daddy-forum: [URGENT! Girlfriend is pushing hard. How to divorce my wife while she’s still breastfeeding?] A few jokers had commented below: [Tough luck, buddy. The law protects the ‘lactating liabilities’ until the milk dries up. You’d need her to file first.] The phrase lactating liabilities made my stomach clench with cold, physiological revulsion. I was about to close the app when I saw an unusually detailed reply. [Pro-tip: Take your paternity leave and go on a two-week trip with your parents. Wait for her to hit rock bottom from solo-parenting exhaustion. When you file, everyone will just assume she’s suffering from postpartum psychosis.] An ice-cold shiver crawled up my spine. Just hours ago, my husband, Adam, had finalized the tickets for a trip next week—a “paternity leave” vacation to The Caribbean to attend his sister’s ‘graduation.’ I turned my head to look at Adam, who was deeply asleep next to me, and in that instant, I made a decision. Later, I would recall this moment. Much later, when he was begging me on his knees. 1 Adam dropped the trip bombshell during dinner. The incision from my C-section was throbbing, a dull ache beneath the mesh maternity underwear. “Can’t we wait until I’ve finished the first six weeks?” I asked quietly. His face instantly clouded over. “Claire! How can you be so selfish! My parents have been looking forward to Madison’s ceremony for years!” I wanted to laugh. His sister, Madison, a twenty-something with no ambition, had used their parents’ retirement savings to get a vanity degree abroad. The one-year course had been creatively stretched into three. I took a deep breath, trying to be reasonable. “I just had major abdominal surgery. I was counting on you to take your paternity leave and help me.” “Then have your mother come help,” he waved a dismissive hand. “You’re an only child; it’s the least she can do.” My heart sank. My parents had bankrolled so much for our little family. They’d even put down the deposit for a swanky postpartum retreat for me, which Adam’s mom, Sharon, had insisted we cancel. She’d promised she could “handle the baby care,” and they took the cash instead. Now, they’d banked the money and still expected my mother to step in. The issue caused tension that night. When our daughter, Zoe, cried, Adam pretended to be asleep, pulling the covers over his head. When Zoe’s wails continued, Sharon, sleeping in the guest room, didn’t bother knocking before storming into our bedroom. “Claire! What are you doing?” I scrambled to pull the blanket higher over my chest. “Mom, I’m nursing Zoe. Could you knock next time, please?” Sharon glared at the baby in my arms and scoffed. “A girl, and you treat her like the Duchess of Cambridge! Just quiet her down, don’t wake my son! This household relies on his income, you know!” I scoffed internally. Adam made about eighty thousand a year, but half of it went straight to his sister’s upkeep. The rest was sunk into his car payment and eating out. I hadn’t seen a single cent go into the joint account. Whenever I dared ask him to buy diapers or formula, he’d lecture me about being financially irresponsible and frivolous. The sad irony? My own seventy-thousand salary covered the mortgage (which my parents gifted us the downpayment for), the utilities, and the $300 monthly allowance for his mom. Suppressing a surge of anger, I forced a question: “Mom, could you maybe pitch in and mix a bottle of formula for me?” Sharon instantly exploded. “Formula? What are you, made of money? Why aren’t you just breastfeeding? It’s free!” I inhaled slowly. “I’m not producing enough. Zoe is still hungry.” Sharon wrinkled her nose in distaste. “Fine. But I have to go pack for the trip.” As soon as she left, I reached for Adam’s phone on the nightstand. The passcode was still our wedding anniversary. I checked his main social media and messaging apps, finding nothing immediately incriminating. But the original poster mentioned his girlfriend was “pushing hard.” Maybe it wasn’t Adam? I changed tactics and searched for anything related to Madison. Madison’s Instagram was wide open: endless photos of parties, shopping sprees, and exotic trips. I scrolled through them one by one. Finally, three months back, in a set of photos from a beach vacation, I saw the flicker of something wrong. It was a casual shot of Madison and another girl, arms around each other, laughing at the camera. My eyes snagged on the other girl’s wrist. She was wearing a watch—the limited-edition automatic I’d saved up for a year to buy Adam for his birthday. He’d practically cried when I gave it to him. “Honey! I’m the luckiest man in the world!” Now, that watch was on a stranger’s arm. I zoomed in, carefully studying the girl’s face. She was beautiful, with the bright, carefree radiance of someone who had never had to worry about a thing. I saved the photo. 2 The next morning, Adam grimaced and rolled over at the sound of Zoe’s cries. “Claire, feed her.” In the past, I would have instantly pushed through the pain of my episiotomy stitches and felt a wave of guilt for disturbing his rest. But today, I just lay there, my expression calm. “My stitches are too sore, I can’t move. Go warm up the pumped milk in the fridge. The bottle sterilizer has a clean one.” Adam froze. He hadn’t expected me to delegate a task so directly. He paused for a few seconds before reluctantly dragging himself out of bed. “Why are your stitches suddenly bothering you? You were fine yesterday.” “Postpartum recovery is a roller coaster, darling,” I lowered my eyes, masking the cold steel in my gaze. “Thank you for helping, honey.” That last sentence seemed to appease him, easing the resentment in his movements. He fumbled clumsily through warming and feeding the milk. I watched him from the bed. Sunlight streamed through a gap in the blackout curtains, illuminating the dust motes in the air. Everything looked normal. But I knew: something had irrevocably shattered. After the feeding, Adam went back to scrolling on his phone. Holding a now quiet Zoe, I began my careful probing. “Is the Caribbean trip all sorted? Have Mom and Dad finished packing? Do you want me to look over their lists?” Adam didn’t look up, his thumb flying across the screen. “It’s all handled. Don’t worry about it, just focus on your recovery.” A faint smile played on his lips, and it was excruciatingly irritating. “What’s the exact address for Maddie’s ceremony? I’ll send her a care package—some nice treats from home. I bet she’s homesick,” I continued, my voice gentle. Adam’s scrolling finger paused for a fraction of a second. His tone, however, remained casual. “Don’t bother. She can buy anything she needs there. Besides, we’re taking her tons of stuff.” “Oh, really? Like what? I’m looking for ideas for later.” He sounded impatient now, finally looking up at me, a slight furrow in his brow. “Just some clothes, snacks, toiletries. Why the sudden interest in Maddie today?” I laughed inwardly. I used to genuinely treat his sister like my own. I never questioned the money transfers or the extravagant gifts. Now, I realized my foolishness. That money hadn’t been just for her. “No reason. We’re family. A little concern is appropriate.” I smiled, dropping the subject. Over the next few days, I became abnormally compliant and considerate, offering no further objections to the trip. The night before they left, Adam spent a very long time in the bathroom. The water rushed, drowning out any other sound. I stood outside the door with Zoe, seeing only his vague, shifting shape through the frosted glass. Hah. He was probably reporting the itinerary to the “girlfriend who’s pushing hard.” A dull ache settled in my chest, but mostly, I felt numb. I silently walked away and pulled the property deed and the pre-nuptial agreement from the back of the bedroom dresser. This apartment was bought outright by my parents with their life savings; it was my separate pre-marital property. Adam’s family had symbolically contributed some money toward renovation costs, but my name was the only one on the title. I traced the raised lettering on the cover. A plan, clean and sharp, crystallized in my mind. 3 The day they left, Adam dragged two enormous suitcases. His parents were dressed to the nines, their faces beaming with the undisguised euphoria of escaping childcare. “Okay, honey, we’re off. Take good care of yourself and the baby.” Adam gave me a perfunctory hug at the door. I resisted the urge to push him away instantly. Sharon also offered a hand-squeeze, an act of false comfort. “Claire, you’ve been a star. We’ll be back as soon as Madison’s ceremony is over.” I smiled and nodded. “Maddie’s graduation is a huge deal. I can handle things here. You all deserve a good vacation.” Adam looked at me, a flicker of something complicated in his eyes, quickly replaced by the relief of his impending freedom. He practically bolted out the door, not even bothering to glance back at the stroller where Zoe lay. You won’t blame me, Adam. I thought. I gave you one last chance to say goodbye to your daughter. As soon as the door clicked shut, I called the real estate agent downstairs. “Whoa, Claire,” the agent, Mike, sounded surprised. “Didn’t your husband already have my contact info? Why are you calling me?” I froze. My eyes narrowed instantly. “What do you mean? What did my husband contact you about?” “Adam called a few days ago to ask for a rush-sale quote on the condo. I told him to hold off, the market’s flat right now.” My heart turned to ice. Adam wasn’t just planning to leave me; he was already trying to liquidate my assets. “Yes, it is a rush sale,” I said, my voice steady. “Arrange a viewing as soon as possible.” Mike glanced at the baby in my arms. “Got it. I’ll send the paperwork to Adam’s WhatsApp later.” I cut him off. “No. Text it to me. He’s traveling internationally with his parents right now, so he won’t be checking his phone.” Mike raised an eyebrow in shock. “He’s traveling internationally? He left you alone right after giving birth?” I gave a dry, self-mocking smile. The thing that shocked an outsider was utterly normal to his family. After Mike left, I called my best friend, Jenna, who was a sharp family lawyer. “I have a case for you. A slam dunk: A divorce during the post-recovery period.” Jenna was immediately confident. “Absolutely. Who in their right mind picks a fight with a woman who’s just had a baby?” Seeing my silence, she sensed the gravity of the situation. “Wait—is it you?” I gave a wry chuckle. “Yep. Adam cheated. And planned my isolation.” Jenna gasped and immediately ordered me to stay put while she raced over. I was exhausted from solo-parenting when she arrived. Seeing her familiar, trustworthy face, I finally broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. Jenna simultaneously consoled me and cursed Adam’s entire lineage. “That pathetic loser! How dare he betray you! Did he forget the lengths he went to convince you to marry him?” Adam and I had been college sweethearts. I was the good student, from the affluent family, with a string of admirers. Adam was the most unremarkable of them all. But he was persistent and seemed so devoted. When I had the flu, he ran to a dozen pharmacies to find my specific medication. When I had appendicitis, he carried me to the hospital, running for over an hour. It was these small acts of devotion that ultimately won me over. Now, at my most vulnerable, he was plotting to discard me. I took a deep breath, pulling myself out of the crushing emotional tide. “Jenna, I need you to do two things for me.” 4 While I waited for Jenna’s investigation results, I was impossibly busy. On one hand, I was a single parent to a newborn—dealing with the agonizing pain of engorgement and fragmented sleep. On the other, I was a real estate shark—working closely with the agent, coordinating viewings, and negotiating with buyers. My price was significantly below market value, and the title was clean. I quickly secured multiple cash offers. Meanwhile, I began swiftly packing up Zoe’s things and mine. Laughably, everything Zoe and I owned fit into a single suitcase. When Zoe was born, I’d wanted to buy a simple changing table. Adam had called me high-maintenance. Sharon had chimed in, saying I had “princess airs but not the princess budget.” I was dumbfounded. I was an only child from an affluent family whose parents had bought us a million-dollar condo. How was that not a princess budget? As for Adam’s and his parents’ belongings, I called a professional moving company and had everything boxed, cataloged, and donated to Goodwill or hauled away as trash. Three days later, Jenna sent me an encrypted file. I opened it: clear flight manifests, hotel reservation records, credit card statements, and a series of photos. The flight destination was Bangkok, Thailand, with a connecting flight to Phuket. They had never set foot in the States. The hotel was a high-end resort in Phuket—a sea-view villa. The reservation was under Adam Adams and his parents and Madison. But on the check-in day, a fourth guest was added, with an extra charge. The consumption receipts showed couples’ spa treatments, romantic dinners, and even a chartered private snorkeling trip for two. The photos were slightly grainy but unmistakable. Adam, in a floral shirt, his arm around a girl’s waist, laughing as they shared a coconut. Another photo showed Sharon and Gary, Adam’s parents, sitting on beach chairs, smiling warmly at their son and the girl, who were playing on a jet ski nearby. They looked as close as a prospective daughter-in-law. Jenna’s summary: “Brooke Linton, 25, unemployed, friend of Madison’s from her overseas stint. Frequent contact with Adam for the past six months. Madison was the facilitator.” A violent wave of nausea hit me. I ran to the bathroom and retched until I was dizzy. It wasn’t morning sickness; it was pure, physiological disgust. Afterward, I splashed cold water on my face and looked at the woman in the mirror: pale, slightly swollen, dark circles under my eyes, clothing stained with breast milk. I wiped my face and went back to the living room. The best cash offer was accepted. The deed transfer was expedited. I signed all the paperwork. A week later, Adam and his parents returned, lugging huge shopping bags, their faces glowing from the vacation. They pushed open the door and found a strange couple standing in their living room. Adam was stunned. “Who are you? Why are you in my apartment?” The new owner held up the deed. “The previous owner sold the place to us.” Adam snatched the paper, saw the new name on the title, and his face instantly went white. Sharon shrieked. “This is impossible! This is our home!” Just then, the doorbell rang. “Delivery for Adam Adams.” Adam ripped open the envelope, pulling out a Divorce Petition. My phone instantly exploded with calls and messages from him: “Claire, where are you?” “What did you do with the apartment?” “I’m sorry, let me explain…” “Please, just give me one more chance…”

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I am Riley. I’m known as the walking, breathing, human bad omen. The kind of person whose bad luck is so potent, a stray dog will trip over its own shadow just passing me on the street. My best friend, Sadie, who I’d been attached to since kindergarten, got sweet-talked into a “crypto investment” scheme that turned out to be a Pig Butchering compound in Southeast Asia. She called me, crying, begging me to find a way to get her out. To save her, I walked straight into the lion’s den, offering myself up as the next mark. On my first day at the compound, The Apex, the small-time thug assigned to watch me slipped on a patch of dry concrete and shattered his kneecap. A compound fracture. The next day, the supervisor tried to force me into the server room to learn how to run the scam. The moment my finger touched the keyboard, the entire network system went dark, the main transformer blew sky-high, and the sky lit up with fire. On the third day, the sector boss, far from punishing me, decided to reward me. He’d barely dropped his trousers when the rusty ceiling fan above his head broke free and swung down, severing his… well, let’s just say it earned him an emergency trip to the med bay. In three short days, the compound was chaos—alarms blaring, walls crumbling, and everyone running around like headless chickens. A month later, the head of the whole operation called the international police hotline himself. I heard the sobbing on the line. “Officer, please! I’m begging you, come and get this walking disaster and her friend! We surrender! We confess!” … 1 Inside the main office of The Apex compound. Viper, the operation’s manager, gripped the phone receiver so hard his knuckles were white. His face was etched with sheer terror. “Hello?! Hello!! Don’t hang up! Sir! I’m serious!” “I am a scam artist! I’m trying to confess! I have two hundred victims locked up here! I’ll give you everything!” “I only have one condition: you need to send a private jet—no, send a rocket—to take the woman we call Riley, the Plague, off my hands!” “The faster the better! We’ll pay the travel expenses! Double the rate!!” A voice came through the receiver: “Sir, impersonating a wanted felon to report a false emergency is a crime.” “And try to make up a more believable story. A scammer offering to buy the victim’s ticket? Do you think we’re idiots?” The dial tone hummed. “Son of a—!!!” Viper slammed the desk phone onto the ground. Screeeech— A shard of the receiver bounced into a live socket. A flash of blue light, and the massive fish tank boomed, shattering. Several expensive Asian Arowana fish flopped desperately on the wet floor. Viper shrieked, scrambling onto the genuine leather sofa to escape the chaos. “See?” I took a slow sip of my tea, sitting calmly in the chair across from him. “I told you. I have the Jinx. A built-in, inverse causality engine. You didn’t believe me, and you tried to call the cops on yourselves.” “Now look. Even the authorities think you’re insulting their intelligence.” Viper spun around, his eyes shot through with red veins. In the past three days, I wanted ice water, the ice machine exploded; I needed to use the restroom, the sewage backed up and flooded the cafeteria; I wanted to watch the evening news, the satellite dish fell off the roof and crashed through the finance office. “Riley…” Viper gritted his teeth, his hand instinctively reaching for the pistol tucked into his waistband, but he hesitated, then drew it back. “Fine. You don’t want to leave, do you?” Viper took a deep, shuddering breath. “Then you won’t. Get her! Throw her in the Pit! The lowest level!” “That sub-level dungeon is nothing but mud and dead men. There is no way you can tear down the compound from there! Lock her up until she rots!!” The door slammed open. Rattler, a one-eyed enforcer limping on a crutch, stormed in with a few of his men. “Viper, she’s mine!” Rattler fixed his one good eye on me. “This bitch broke my leg! Before she goes to the Pit, I’m collecting some interest!” He advanced on me, swinging a leather whip embedded with steel barbs. “Rattler, don’t be stupid! Just take her…” Viper tried to warn him. I sighed, setting down my teacup. “Rattler, if I were you, I wouldn’t swing that whip.” “Shut your damn mouth! I’m going to carve that smug look right off your face!” Rattler swung his arm in a wide arc, the whip cutting the air as it screamed toward my face. I didn’t move. I counted to “Three.” Snap! The tip of the whip hooked onto the massive crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling. The hanging bracket instantly snapped. CRASH!! The chandelier plummeted, smashing directly onto Rattler’s head. Rattler didn’t even manage a cry. He was instantly buried under a mountain of broken glass and twisted metal. His exposed legs twitched twice, then went still. The office went silent. The lackeys stood frozen, mouths agape. Viper remained perched on the sofa, his face a ghostly white. “Get…” He pointed a frantic finger at the doorway. “Get her out of here… get her out now!! She is a goddamn monster!!” “Don’t touch her! Use the riot poles! Keep your distance!!” A chaotic struggle ensued. A squad in padded riot gear pushed me out of the office using two-meter-long poles. As I was being prodded away, I gave a small wave to Viper. “Oh, and… remember to fix the fish tank. That exposed wiring is a fire hazard.” “GET OUT!!!” Viper’s roar echoed behind me, followed by another muffled CRASH. … The Pit was located on the third sub-level. The iron door groaned open, and a wave of putrid stench washed over me. “Get in, you little freak!” A guard shoved me with a pole into the pitch-black, fetid water and quickly slammed the door shut. Splash! The dirty water rose past my knees. I found my footing, and from the darkest corner, I heard a faint whimper. “Riley…?” The voice was hauntingly familiar. I whipped my head around, using the dim hallway light filtering through the bars to make out the figure huddled in the corner. It was Sadie. Sadie, who was pathologically obsessed with her appearance, was huddled in the muck. She was covered in bruises, her face so swollen I barely recognized her, and she was desperately clutching half a piece of moldy bread. The fury inside me spiked to a boiling point. “Sadie!” My throat choked up. I rushed over and pulled her into a tight hug. “Why are you so stupid!” Sadie sobbed hysterically into my shoulder. “I told you to call the police! Why did you come here? They’ll kill you!” “I did call,” I said, stroking her back. “But the police said a cross-border raid takes time. I was afraid you wouldn’t last that long, so I came to check in.” “What good is checking in! This is a death wish!” Sadie cried harder. “It’s okay,” I wiped the mud from her face. “I have my little… thing. Remember?” Sadie paused, the memory of all the bizarre, unbelievable incidents that had surrounded me since childhood flashing through her mind. Like in middle school, when the teacher made me go on stage to read a poem, and the moment I opened my mouth, the entire stage collapsed. Or in high school, when I tried to sneak into a sketchy internet cafe for an all-nighter, but before I could even open the door, the police raided and shut the place down. “But… this is different. They have guns…” Sadie pointed desperately at the guards outside the iron bars. We weren’t the only ones in the Pit. There was a man with a broken leg, Ben, who was tricked into construction work. And a young college student with glasses, Trevor, locked up for failing to meet his coding quota. They watched me with dull, vacant eyes. “Save your breath, newbie,” Ben leaned against the wall, his voice a hoarse whisper. “Once you’re in the Pit, you’re just waiting to die. See those wires up there? If they feel like it, they’ll turn on the juice, and we all become grilled fish.” I looked up at the few frayed wires dangling precariously above the water. I sighed and spoke to Ben with complete sincerity. “Try not to be too pessimistic, man. In my experience, if they try to electrocute us, the transformer will most likely explode first, or the guard flipping the switch will be the one who gets shocked. The people who try to hurt me usually end up leaving faster.” Ben stared at me like I was a complete lunatic. The words had barely left my mouth. The iron door above the Pit was pulled open. A drunken guard, reeking of stale booze, unzipped his fly, ready to relieve himself down below. “Here you go, you little pigs! Drink the General’s holy water! Hahahahaha!” Ben and Trevor swallowed their rage, bowing their heads in humiliation. Sadie screamed, burrowing herself deeper into my arms. I frowned, a knot of pure disgust tightening in my stomach as I looked at the guard. The next second, a piercing scream sliced through the night. “AH!! It’s stuck!! It’s stuck!!!” The guard’s hand jerked, and the liquor bottle he was holding smashed onto his toe. He slipped on the wet floor and fell headfirst into the Pit. Plop! He landed right next to the drooping electric wires. The water splashed the wires, creating a shower of blue sparks. “Er-er-er-er…” The guard thrashed and convulsed wildly in the water, his eyes rolling back. Luckily, he landed far enough away that by the time the current reached us, we only felt a slight, buzzing tingle. Sadie and I were completely unharmed. The guard, however, started foaming at the mouth in seconds, passing out cold. His face was submerged in the sewage, bubbling faintly. The Pit went utterly silent. Ben’s jaw dropped, nearly dislocating. Trevor adjusted his bent glasses, pointing a trembling finger at me. “Th-that… was you too?” I shrugged, a look of innocence on my face. “He just wasn’t careful. See? Bad intent meets bad karma. That’s just how the universe works.” The unconscious guard in the water, while satisfying, also spelled serious trouble. Not long after, the changing shift noticed something was wrong and the alarm instantly blared. “Escape! An attempted escape!!” The piercing siren echoed throughout the compound. The iron door was brutally kicked open. A dozen powerful flashlights blinded us. This time, it wasn’t just thugs. The crowd parted, and a middle-aged man in a traditional Chinese-style jacket, spinning two iron walnuts in his hand, strolled in. Behind him were Viper and a company of heavily armed mercenaries. This was the compound’s true power, the actual behind-the-scenes boss: Silas Blackwood. Silas looked at the guard floating in the water, then at me, and grinned. “Interesting.” His voice was gravelly. “Pull the body out. As for the others, take them all to the main yard.” We were herded to the main courtyard. It was late at night, but the compound was lit up like a football stadium. Hundreds of “marks” were violently woken up and forced to stand around the perimeter to witness the execution. Silas sat on a massive armchair, idly toying with a golden Desert Eagle handgun. “I am a man who believes in fate the most, and yet, I believe in fate the least.” Silas pointed the muzzle of the gun at me. “I hear you’re the Walking Calamity? The jinx who killed several of my best men?” I stood in the cold wind, shielding the trembling Sadie behind me, meeting his gaze directly. “Mr. Blackwood, some things are better left believed than dismissed.” “Hahahahaha!” Silas roared with laughter, then instantly dropped his expression, his face darkening. “Go to hell with your bad luck! In this world, I am God! I am fate!” He made a sharp gesture. Two mercenaries rushed forward and grabbed Sadie. “Let go of me! Riley! Help me!!” Sadie struggled wildly. “Stop!” I tried to lunge forward, but two gun barrels were instantly pressed against my temples. Silas grabbed a fistful of Sadie’s hair, pressing the muzzle of the Desert Eagle against her temple. “Riley, is it?” Silas grinned viciously, his finger resting on the trigger. “You think you’re such a jinx? Come on! Jinx me now! Let’s see whose luck runs out faster—your bad mojo, or my bullet!” Sadie’s face was white, tears streaming silently down her cheeks. “Riley… don’t worry about me… run…” Watching this, I clenched my fists. “Silas.” I took a deep breath, forcing myself to remain calm. “I’m a jinx, not a monster. The debt is between you and me. You want to kill someone? Kill me. Let her go.” “You don’t get to bargain with me!” Silas roared, “Get on your knees!!” BANG! He fired a shot into the air. “Kneel! Or the next bullet blows her brains out!” Sadie shook her head frantically, her eyes full of pleading. “No… Riley, have some backbone… don’t kneel for this scum…” “Beat her!” Silas gave the command. A mercenary next to him slammed the butt of his rifle into Sadie’s back. Pugh! Sadie gasped, spitting out a mouthful of blood, collapsing limply to the ground. “Sadie!!” My eyes burned with fury. “I’ll kneel!” I ground my teeth, bending my knees. If it meant saving Sadie’s life, my pride was meaningless. But. I looked up, staring intently at Silas, my eyes icy cold. “Silas, I truly did not want to kneel.” “This bow is too heavy for you to bear.” “It’ll take years off your life.” My knees slammed hard onto the rough ground. In that moment. It felt like a shackle snapping. “Hahahahaha! Look, everyone! The Jinx is kneeling!” Silas roared with laughter. “What causality engine, what walking calamity? When faced with my gun, you’re all just dogs on a leash!” The surrounding mercenaries and thugs joined in the mocking laughter. “Silas, now that I’ve knelt, can we discuss…” I fought back the nausea in my throat, ready to negotiate her release. “Who told you you could speak?” Silas’s face twisted in rage. He lifted his foot, and his military boot drove hard into my shoulder. Thump! I was knocked off balance, sent sprawling onto the ground, my cheek scraping painfully against the rough dirt. Before I could get back up, the military boot was planted squarely on the side of my face. “You want to save her? Fine.” Silas looked down at me, the dirt from his sole grinding against my skin. “The kneeling was for my fallen men. Now, I want you to kowtow.” “Make it loud! You knock your head, and I’ll consider letting your little friend suffer a little less.” “Don’t! Riley! Don’t listen to him! He’s an animal! He won’t let us go!” Sadie’s voice was raw with crying, but two burly men held her down, unable to move. I was prone on the ground, my mouth full of the metallic tang of blood and the earthy stench of mud. But I looked at Sadie, bruised and bleeding nearby. Even knowing he was lying, I couldn’t risk the chance that he wasn’t. “Fine.” I pushed up with my hands, slowly lifting my torso, then slammed my head down hard. Dong! One. “Oh, that wasn’t loud enough! Didn’t you eat breakfast?” Silas mocked, digging a finger into his ear. DONG!! Two. A sharp pain exploded in my forehead. Blood traced a line down my brow bone, obscuring one eye. My vision was smeared red. “Hahahahaha! Keep going! Don’t stop! You don’t stop until I tell you to!” Silas laughed hysterically. He turned, waving to his men behind him. “What are you idiots waiting for? Take out your phones and record this! Send it to the outside world! Let those clueless marks see what happens when you cross me!” I mechanically repeated the motion of slamming my head down. Until— “Alright, this is boring.” Silas suddenly kicked my ribs. I heard a distinct crack. The shattering pain made me instantly curl into a fetal position. “I’m tired of playing.” Silas accepted a cigar, took a long drag, and then flicked the smoldering ash directly onto the back of my hand. Sizzzz— The smell of burning flesh hit the air. But I still didn’t make a sound, only staring intensely at him. That look made Silas deeply uncomfortable. “Damn, that gaze is bad luck.” Silas swore, his murderous intent fully ignited. “I thought about keeping you around for a bit, but it looks like you genuinely want to die.” He waved his hand. “Bring the oil drums.” “Since this bitch’s head is so hard, let’s light them up like lanterns. Give the others a show and warm things up.” Sadie had stopped crying. She closed her eyes in despair, seeming to accept her fate. Several mercenaries leered as they dragged over cans of gasoline. I struggled to prop myself up on one elbow, my breathing ragged with blood. The blood from my forehead ran into my mouth. But I smiled. “Silas…” My voice was a raw croak. “I just knocked my head nine times.” “Nine, the number of closure. I paid the cosmic debt.” “Now, it’s yours to settle.” Silas froze for a moment, then flew into a rage. “Still talking nonsense when you’re about to die! Pour the gas! Pour it all!!” Two mercenaries lifted the drums. WHOOSH! The acrid gasoline drenched me from head to toe, stinging my cuts. At the same time, to prevent any final resistance, dozens of mercenaries raised their guns. “Send them off!” Silas grinned, clicking his lighter. In that fraction of a second, with the lighter already ignited and flying toward us— My lips curled slightly. “See you in hell, you piece of trash.” The lighter in Silas’s hand traced an arc in the air, falling towards our gasoline-soaked bodies.

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The fifth time Rhett Hayden asked me to set her up with a date, I didn’t bother dragging in a misfit or a newly divorced father of two. I just opened the tablet, pulled up a photo, and slid it across the marble table, strictly business. “How about Lewis Maxwell? Handsome, steady, exactly your type.” I leaned back, my voice flat. “Most importantly, he likes you.” But Rhett wasn’t looking at the screen. Her eyes were locked on mine. Her voice was tight, low. “Piper Stone, where’s the jealousy?” I paused for a millisecond, then let out a laugh that felt brittle even to me. “Ms. Hayden, please. We’ve been divorced for years.” I let the next words hang in the air, a cool promise. “Once the debt is repaid, I will resign as your Executive Assistant. I will disappear from your world, just as you wished.” … Rhett’s gaze lingered on my smile, searching for a crack, a lie, some sign of the old Piper. Her pinky finger tapped the table twice—her habitual, subtle gesture to suppress deep irritation. “The family is pushing these dates. Just find someone manageable to get them off my back.” She glanced at the photo on the screen. “Toby Maxwell? Cancel it. You know I won’t marry him.” “Piper, I’ve explained this countless times. He’s just a partner’s son. Being kind to him doesn’t mean anything. He’s sensitive. Why would you deliberately put him in front of me? That’s not how you play the game, is it?” It had been a long time since Rhett had spoken so much to me. She was always so guarded with her words. “Ms. Hayden, you misunderstand.” I cut her off, my tone utterly even. “The man you’re meeting is not Toby Maxwell. It’s his older brother, Lewis.” “He flew back to the States the day before yesterday. He contacted me personally.” “This arrangement? It was his idea. Do you still want to cancel?” The finger resting on the table twitched violently. Rhett immediately lowered her eyes to the screen. The man in the picture was smiling at the camera, a wisp of dark hair falling lazily across his forehead—the kind of lock that made you want to reach out and smooth it away. Rhett’s hand lifted halfway, then dropped back to her lap, casually. “If Lewis is back, then yes, it’s probably necessary to see him.” She opened a file, as if to justify herself. “Just an old family friend I haven’t seen in years.” “Understood. Your schedule is clear this Saturday. I’ll arrange dinner for you and Mr. Maxwell.” I was purely professional. I turned to leave. Just as my hand touched the doorknob, Rhett’s voice stopped me. “Piper, you don’t have to call me ‘Ms. Hayden.’” Her brow furrowed in a look of near-helpless exasperation. “We’re divorced, but we’re not strangers.” “Ms. Hayden, we are now superior and subordinate. It’s appropriate.” It was like punching through cotton. Rhett stood up, her control finally slipping. “Piper, what is this act today? Just because the date is Lewis, you’ve been acting like a passive-aggressive martyr all morning?” She spat the final words, raw and accusatory. “Don’t forget, he was forced to leave the country because of you!” I hadn’t thought about those years in a long time. The sudden mention made me realize the heavy, humid rain of that past had never quite cleared from my soul. Back then, I was Piper Stone, the spoiled trust-fund kid, the King of the prep school. The most outrageous thing I ever did was ‘buy’ the quiet girl with the scholarship, Rhett Hayden. People teased me, asking if I was finally falling for someone. I dismissed them with a cavalier glance at her cool, impassive face. “Just a calculated investment. Doesn’t she look like a perfect blue-chip stock?” I never expected that investment to bankrupt me. I fell for her long, dark lashes, the way they would tremble when she looked at me. I fell for her silent offering of meticulously organized notebooks as a return on my ‘investment.’ Being near her, catching the faint, clean scent of gardenia she always carried, was the only thing that ever calmed the storm in me. I proposed. I gave her everything. And Rhett accepted it all. I had so much then that I never worried about reciprocity. If she was reserved, I’d push her boundaries until I saw a blush. If she wanted to climb the ladder, I’d hand her the ladder. Until the day she became the new power player in the city. She took the project she’d poured her soul into and offered it to the Maxwell family—for free. All that hard work, all those resources I’d funneled to her, just to get one meeting. To say one thing. I learned later that years ago, during a corporate charity drive, Lewis Maxwell had donated boxes of books and clothes to her remote village. Tucked inside was a generic, corporate-approved note urging the kids to study hard and leave the mountains. A message a teenage girl had taken to heart. A message she’d carried for two decades. She walked thousands of miles, metaphorical and real, just to stand before Lewis and say thank you. I lost it. The scandal was huge. Everyone knew she’d used me as a stepping stone to reach her childhood hero, her Ghost, her unattainable ideal. But Rhett just arranged another private meeting with Lewis. She apologized to him for my disruption. The bigger the scene I made, the more considerate she became toward Lewis. She even sided with the Maxwells during a massive commercial dispute, using my trust to deliver the kill shot that sent my father to prison. My world ended. My tears, my begging—they earned me only Rhett’s chilling explanation: “The Stones’ finances were unstable anyway. I just expedited the inevitable.” When I demanded a divorce, she stayed silent for a long time, then murmured, “Not yet. The rumors about Lewis are bad enough. Us divorcing now would ruin his reputation.” For Lewis, every consideration. For me, absolute cruelty. I must have been truly insane then. I went to Lewis. I knelt in his lavish office, pleading for him to ask Rhett to spare my father, my only family. Lewis sipped his espresso, his easy elegance a stark contrast to my desperation. He smiled. “Piper, don’t be naive. Someone loves me enough to destroy their life for me. Why would I object?” A photographer captured the moment. The headline screamed: “The Homewrecker Forces the Ex-Husband to Kneel.” Rhett grabbed my arm that night—it still hurts thinking about how hard she squeezed. She threw the bought-out photos in my face, calling me a manipulator. She dismissed every word of my explanation. It wasn’t until Lewis left the country to “ride out the storm” that Rhett’s anger finally evaporated. She lit a cigarette, smoked one after another, and finally, through the hazy smoke, whispered, “Let’s get divorced.” I closed the door without responding. When the listener doesn’t believe, the speaker is only wasting his breath. Saturday arrived quickly. Rhett left the office early and slid into the back seat without a word. In the heavy silence, she finally spoke. “Your father’s next phase of medical treatment has been transferred.” “Thank you, Ms. Hayden. I was aware.” One sentence, and the distance between us was re-established. I sat in the passenger seat, watching her in the rearview mirror. Same impeccable power suit, but the silk scarf was tied in a fresh, intricate knot. Her hair was professionally styled. She hadn’t dressed like this for me, not even on our wedding day. Young Rhett, even in simple clothes, was a breath of fresh air. I had easily forgiven her everything then. Now, I saw the first misstep that led to ruin. As she stepped out of the car, Rhett glanced back at me, her look a clear warning. “Stay put.” I wanted to be compliant, but work obligations wait for no one. When I walked into the restaurant holding my phone, I saw Rhett delicately brushing a stray strand of hair from Lewis’s cheek. She pulled her hand back, but her fingers lingered, tracing an invisible thread of silk. Right after the divorce, I used to despise her for this hypocrisy—the way she loved him so fiercely but would only admit to gratitude. She was so convinced she was fooling everyone, even herself. Yet for me, the one who paid for her education, she’d never offered a single thank you. “Ms. Hayden…” I began. Rhett was instantly on her feet, shielding Lewis. She looked at me with hostility. “Piper Stone, Lewis is not someone you can harass.” I paused, realizing her mistake. Honestly, I hadn’t made a scene since the divorce. I was afraid to, and I didn’t want to. Rhett thought I intentionally set her up with terrible dates because I was jealous. That was false. The jealousy was long dead. The small, calculated revenge—creating minor inconveniences for her—that was real. But Lewis was back. He had sought me out. “Piper, she’s lost that green edge.” Lewis had watched the massive screen outside the window, where Rhett was cutting the ribbon on a new corporate acquisition. “I once loved a woman. Now, I want someone who loves me.” I knew this was my last chance. After Lewis, I wouldn’t have the opportunity to arrange any more dates for Rhett Hayden. “Ms. Hayden, it’s a work call. The project we discussed…” “Hang up.” “Excuse me?” My throat felt squeezed shut. “I said, hang up.” Rhett was furious. The last time she’d been this angry was when she was new to the corporate world, working until she passed out on her desk. A critical call came in. I let her sleep, thinking an hour more rest was worth it. When she woke up, her eyes were red with rage. “That was a partner I spent months courting! How could you…?” I always thought she was devoted to her work. Now, I understood. I just wasn’t important enough to outweigh it. “Of course.” I ended the call. Lewis suddenly spoke up, his tone gentle. “Rhett, how can you treat your husband like that? You’re not this kind of person.” Because you do nothing, and Rhett manages everything for you. Even after you left, she doted on your brother, Toby. And I? Everything I do is wrong. “Mr. Maxwell, you are mistaken. We have been divorced for a long time. Ms. Hayden is single, and I am her employee. Our relationship is purely professional.” I was desperate to clarify, more concerned about the misperception than she was. And yet, Rhett was the one whose face darkened when I stressed our strictly professional status. The date ended sooner than I expected. I waited in the car, fighting the hunger pangs, watching Rhett graciously walk Lewis to his luxury sedan and stare as the taillights disappeared. Then, she opened the driver’s side door and sent our chauffeur home. It was the first time we’d sat side-by-side since the divorce, confined in that small space with only two sounds of breathing: one heavy and agitated, the other almost imperceptible. “Piper Stone, do you find this entertaining? I told you it was just old friends, but you insisted on coming here to check up on me.” “Ms. Hayden, I have to remind you again: we’re divorced. I don’t have the authority to ‘check up’ on you.” I stared out the window. The streets were vibrant, but I had nowhere to belong. “And yes, you said ‘old friends.’ I believe you. I believe everything you say.” Rhett pounded the steering wheel. The sudden, shrill sound of the horn was like the unhealable fissure between us. “Fine. If you insist on severing all ties, then I will stop paying your father’s medical bills.” She waited, expectant, for my reaction. She probably thought I’d collapse, helpless, a Stockholm patient crawling back into the cage she’d built. But I simply kept looking out the window, refusing to let my gaze fall on her. “As you wish.” I was put out of the car, left to walk along the sidewalk. The night was cold, very much like the day my father was released from prison on medical parole. His legs trembled that night, too. He was old, his heart diseased. He would have left earlier, they said, if not for me. He was afraid to leave me alone. I grew up loved by him, believing every love story was as pure as theirs. I was wrong. The treatment was expensive, and my family was ruined. Three days after the divorce, Rhett sought me out. She paid the bills. The price was becoming her Executive Assistant to repay the debt. The debt between us was never about money. It was about a life. Last week, the doctor warned me. My father was too old. The best medicine was barely postponing the inevitable. The terrible irony was that I found myself counting the days until his death, waiting for my own liberation. I went to the office on Monday as usual. I sensed the shift immediately. The receptionists were buzzing, their eyes darting excitedly toward the guest sofa. It was Lewis Maxwell. He was in a sharp gray suit, his hair neatly combed. He walked straight toward me. “Mr. Stone, you know which floor Rhett’s office is on, right? I texted, but she hasn’t replied. I’m hoping you can take me up.” The receptionist sidled up to me, whispering anxiously, “Mr. Stone, everyone has to log in and out. What should I do about him?” “Follow company procedure.” I gestured to the desk. “Mr. Maxwell, please register with the front desk. I’ll take you up afterward.” Lewis didn’t move. He just offered me a half-smile. The private executive elevator dinged open behind him. The crisp click of heels echoed on the tile. “Lewis, I came down as soon as I got your text. The elevator signal must be terrible; sorry it didn’t go through. You didn’t wait long, did you?” Rhett explained as she hurried toward him, her breathing still uneven. “Not long at all. You certainly didn’t need to come down just for me.” “But I ran into Mr. Stone. I was just about to sign in and head up with him.” Lewis reached for the pen, but Rhett stopped him. “You don’t need to sign in.” She took his arm and led him toward the elevator, never sparing me a glance. As the doors closed, the receptionist finally spoke. “Mr. Stone, who is that? Even you have to register, why doesn’t he?” I forced a tight smile and deflected. “Follow Ms. Hayden’s lead.” I took the employee elevator up. I headed to the pantry to brew Rhett’s customary pour-over coffee. The room was already crowded with gossipers. “Oh my god, did you see the man the CEO personally brought up? The Ice Queen was actually smiling! Is he her husband?” “I heard from HR that we’re getting a new Director from overseas. Maybe it’s him.” Someone nudged my arm, lowering their voice. “Mr. Stone, you’ve been with Ms. Hayden the longest. What’s the scoop? Is he the boyfriend?” I didn’t want to talk about them, but silence would only draw more attention. I kept my answer vague. “You could say that. They certainly look good together.” “A new Director is a good thing for the company. No more running back and forth for me.” My coffee was ready. I turned to leave, only to see Rhett standing in the doorway, her face thunderous. The entire pantry fell silent. No one had warned me. I couldn’t fathom the source of her anger. That coffee cup ended up in the sink. I was suspended. The new arrival was flexing his muscle, and I was the first casualty. Lewis had discovered I had no formal employment contract. “Mr. Stone, are you two still playing these workplace fantasies, even after the divorce?” “The former prince becoming the mistress’s errand boy?” Lewis’s words were cruel, and I felt no need to explain myself to him. Over the years, I had traded my signature long hair for a simple buzz cut. Piper Stone died when the Stone family fell, leaving only the nameless Mr. Stone. We were in this awkward position because one of us wanted to leave and the other couldn’t. Rhett didn’t bother to explain either. She needed to save face for Lewis. But as I was leaving the building, my phone buzzed. A text from her: “Come home tonight. We need to renegotiate the terms of our agreement.” I found it laughable. Lewis was back. What was the point of keeping me shackled like this? A wave of suffocating bitterness washed over me. I shut off my phone and wandered to the hospital. Before going in, I stopped at a florist and bought a bouquet of Forget-Me-Nots. My father never cared for flowers when my mother was alive. After she passed, he took up gardening, and the Forget-Me-Nots became his favorite. Rhett hadn’t skimped on the care. The hospital room was bright, with a window overlooking a distant lake. But as I walked in with the flowers, I felt a deep dread. The sunlight was too harsh, blinding me, bringing tears to my eyes. In that instant, the hunched figure vanished from the window.

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I had a secret crush on Julian Thorne for ten years but never dared to confess, until I was diagnosed with terminal brain cancer. I tied him up and slept with him again and again. His eyes red, he struggled: “Chloe Miller! Let me go if you have the guts.” I thought he would strangle me in a rage once released. But he fiercely occupied every inch of my body, day and night without stopping: “Chloe, do I look weak to you? You actually drugged me?” 1 I had a secret crush on Julian Thorne for ten years. From adolescence to adulthood. He lived in the villa next to mine. I watched him grow from a green youth into a mature man. I was completely captivated by his mature charm, but I dared not say it. I was afraid if I said it, he would reject me, and then we would be over. Until ten days ago, I fainted at work and was sent to the hospital. The doctor looked at me with regret: “Terminal brain cancer. It’s too late, there’s no value in treatment anymore.” I couldn’t just die like this. I hadn’t traveled the world yet, I hadn’t slept with Julian yet… Novels I recently read popped into my mind, all about possessive, forced love. I’m dying anyway, doing something crazy isn’t too much, right? I called Julian and invited him to my house for dinner. Julian is the big boss of the Thorne Group, very busy. But he agreed to come over later. When Julian arrived, he looked travel-worn, wearing a black trench coat. Carrying a chill around him. Only then did I know he was abroad when I called. Flew for a day, came back straight into my trap. I felt a little soft-hearted. I wanted to find an excuse to drive him away, but he walked straight to the dining table and sat down. Without waiting for me to speak, he started serving himself. I watched him drink the Tom Yum soup I had spiked heavily. While drinking, he raised an eyebrow at me. “Haven’t seen you for a while, your cooking has improved.” Of course, it improved. Because that was takeout from the number one Thai restaurant in the city. Why takeout? The reason is simple: I was afraid my cooking would be too terrible, and he wouldn’t eat enough for the effect to kick in. By the time I went to the kitchen to get a bowl, his eyes were already starting to cloud over as he sat at the table. I bit my lip: “Are you tired? Want to rest?” He nodded: “A bit dizzy.” “Then go rest for a bit.” We’ve known each other for years, having long lost our guard against each other. He obediently followed me to the guest bedroom. 2 Julian fell asleep. I struggled to take off his coat, then stared at his looming body under the white shirt, lost in thought. I pursed my lips, a bit flustered, mouth dry. But I never had the courage to strip him completely. I dug out a pile of ties from the closet that I wanted to give him over the years but was too shy to send. Today, they came in handy. I tied his hands and feet directly to the bed with ties. Exhausted after doing everything, I slumped by the bed. Looking up, I saw his sleeping handsome face. Very peaceful right now. But I could imagine how furious he would be when he woke up. Just like the last time his mother suggested we just get married. I stared at his face, reluctant to blink. Thinking I wouldn’t see it anymore in a few days, I wanted to look enough at once. I’ve been a kind and selfless person for over twenty years. At the end, I insist on being selfish once. It doesn’t matter even if he hates me. That way, he won’t be sad at all when I die. The phone in his coat rang non-stop. It was his assistant, Liam. Without much hesitation, and afraid of waking him, I picked it up. “Julian is too tired, fell asleep after eating.” Liam hung up tactfully. Gradually, my eyelids grew heavier. I simply climbed onto the bed, hugged Julian’s waist, and fell into a deep sleep. I was woken up by Julian’s roar in the middle of the night. “Chloe!” I sat up abruptly. The sudden movement made me dizzy, vision blacking out, and I fell heavily back into Julian’s arms. “Chloe! What on earth are you doing?” Doing what? I propped myself up with my elbows, looking at him with confused eyes. “Guess.” Julian’s face darkened further. I knelt on the bed looking at him: “Since you’re awake, let’s get down to business.” Julian frowned deeply, his arms trying to break free from the restraints. I panicked a little, afraid if he really escaped, my efforts would be wasted. I closed my eyes and threw myself onto him. “Don’t move! Listen to me!” Julian gritted his teeth in hatred. “Are you crazy?” I looked up slightly, my face less than four inches from his. “I’m not crazy.” “Then what are you doing?” “I got you onto the bed, what do you think I want to do?” Julian’s pupils contracted sharply, the disgust on his face unhidden. “Chloe! I’m Julian!” “Do you have any shame left as a girl!” I didn’t want to hear him scold me, so I grabbed a soft object from the nightstand and stuffed it into his mouth. Ignoring his eyes that were about to spew fire, I looked at him fiercely. “Shut up!” Julian wanted to break free, but found it useless. My heart pounded in my chest. “I’m going to kiss you, don’t interrupt me.” With that, I pulled the thing out of his mouth, and without waiting for him to speak, I closed my eyes and kissed him fiercely. I clumsily tore at his shirt, buttons rolling onto the floor one by one. Like someone escaping the apocalypse, unwilling to stop, just wanting to find an exit. I had a chest full of emotions, released bit by bit all over Julian’s body amidst his low grunts. I heard my friend Luna say once, men in bed only think with their lower half. Sure enough, amidst my somewhat fierce actions, Julian didn’t open his mouth to scold me. Just constant grunts. After it was over, Julian’s face was flushed, as if he had suffered great humiliation. I didn’t like looking at it, put on clothes and wanted to go to the bathroom to shower. Seeing me leave, Julian stopped me. “Chloe!” I turned to look at him: “What?” His eyes were red with anger. “Let me go if you have the guts.” I froze for a second hearing this, then smiled indifferently. “I will let you go, but not now.” 3 After showering, I wanted to go back to my room. But I remembered Julian’s eight-pack abs, so firm. So I went back to the guest room. Julian hadn’t slept yet, staring at the ceiling. Like a frog about to be experimented on. Seeing me enter, he cursed through gritted teeth: “Let me go!” I shook my head: “No.” “Do you have any shame!” “What good does doing this do you?” “Didn’t your mother teach you self-respect and self-love?” He poked my heart. On purpose. I pursed my lips and didn’t speak, just walked up silently. I kicked off my slippers and got directly onto the bed, straddling him. He frowned and wanted to scold me again. I reached out and covered his mouth. “Shut up, listen to me.” “I’ve known you for eleven years, liked you for ten. I thought about giving up, but I wasn’t resigned.” “I know you don’t like me. People say those who love take initiative, so I took the initiative.” “I just want to have you, struggling is useless!” With that, I lowered my head and kissed him with red eyes. Julian’s lips were thin and cool, as if mint-flavored. I was already tired, but I clearly felt a change somewhere in him. I looked up at his face and laughed. “Still pretending to be a pure CEO, not so tough after all!” The sounds Julian made during the whole process made me blush and… very satisfied. Opening my eyes again, Julian was already awake. But fortunately, his expression didn’t show he “suffered humiliation.” Seeing me awake, he called me with a hoarse voice. “Let me go.” “No.” He was somewhat helpless and started changing tactics. “Chloe, what is wrong with you? How long do you plan to tie me up?” I stretched out my fingers to count, then gestured a number to him. “7 days.” Julian was completely speechless: “Why on earth?” “No reason,” I calmly put on my robe and got out of bed, “I insist on staying with you for fully seven days.” I thought Julian would be angry, but he laughed. “This is illegal detention. You know how many things I have every day, how many people look for me. If I disappear like this, do you think you can keep me until the seventh day?” I stood by the bed, unable to move a step. Right, he’s a big man. As long as he doesn’t cooperate, how long can I keep him? “Chloe, let me go, I promise not to leave.” I froze for two seconds, then shook my head stubbornly. “I don’t believe you.” “Chloe, I have very important things to do. You can follow me, but you have to let me out.” Julian thought I would definitely agree since he made a concession. But I refused without thinking. I told him very stubbornly: “Before the police bring people to find my house, you can only stay here.” Julian knew there was no solution. A pair of black eyes looked me up and down several times. Finally, he compromised unexpectedly. “If you tie me up like this for seven days, my hands and feet will be ruined. Is this what you want?” “No.” “But I have no other way. I can’t beat you, can’t stop you, can only wrong you like this.” “Chloe, I swear on my grandmother’s name, I won’t leave within seven days.” Grandma Thorne. I knew her importance to Julian. I also knew she was sincerely good to me. When she passed away, Julian and I hid in a corner and cried together. That was the first time I saw Julian cry. “You need me to cooperate with you, otherwise your door might be forcibly breached this afternoon.” Julian’s attitude was sincere. I also knew he was telling the truth. The CEO of the Thorne Group is missing, how could it not be a big deal? I wanted to keep him, but I didn’t want to leave a bad reputation when I died. I could imagine how ugly and outrageous the media would write about this. I compromised. I threw his clothes to him, then released his hands and feet one by one. He gritted his teeth moving his stiff hands, scolding mercilessly: “Why didn’t I discover you were a crazy woman before.” I was expressionless: “There’s a lot you haven’t discovered.” He stared at the messy ties I threw on the ground, turned to look at me in disbelief: “Where did you get so many ties?” “I saw them and thought they suited you, so I bought them. Unknowingly saved so many.” Good thing I didn’t buy them in vain, finally used them on him. “Why didn’t you give them to me?” I sneered: “Don’t have the habit of pressing my hot face against your cold butt.” Julian’s face turned slightly cold. “So you just forced it?” I blushed from face to toe. Regardless of consequences when going crazy, calming down and hearing him say this, suddenly felt very shameful. Wanting to get a man, actually used tying. But I quickly got over it. I told myself, doing such a thing in this life was worth it. 4 Julian kept his word. After being released by me, he didn’t mean to leave forcefully. Just asked me for my laptop. “You want to email Liam for help?” Julian looked at me like I was an idiot. “Is your brain not working well? If I wanted to leave, would I need to find someone?” It wasn’t that my brain wasn’t working well; it was clearly broken. I gave him the computer. Anyway, I resigned, keeping the computer is useless. Julian sat on the balcony handling work, while I curled up on the living room sofa watching him quietly. The angle of the sunlight seemed calculated, giving me an illusion of “peaceful years.” Only this “peace” was kidnapped by my shamelessness. The afternoon sun was dazzling. Watching him, I felt sleepy. I tried hard to control myself not to sleep, but eventually lost consciousness. Opening my eyes again, Julian’s shadow was gone from sight. I jumped up, looking around in panic barefoot. Until I pushed open the bathroom door abruptly. My heart fell back into my chest from my throat, but my reason left home from the moment I saw him. I pounced on him. I had no experience, so I bit randomly without method, just wanting to leave marks. It felt like a lost deer crashing around in my chest. I clung to him like an octopus with all my might, afraid he would throw me off. In a trance, I heard Julian’s helpless sigh, then a strong arm dragged me up. “Truly a lunatic, but I like it.” Like what? Before I could react, he bit my neck, and then the tables turned. I believed Luna’s words more and more. In men’s eyes, love and not love, doing it and not doing it, are indeed two different things. Afterwards, the thick lust faded, and Julian leaned against the bed examining me. “Chloe, I really suspect you are possessed by some evil ghost.” Knowing each other for so many years, it’s not strange for Julian to have doubts. After all, I was too different from before. “Yes,” I nodded solemnly, “A lust ghost.” Julian narrowed his eyes: “Why doesn’t the lust ghost find someone else?” I tilted my head and thought: “Probably because you are the only one around easy to hook.” I took my phone to order takeout, but was stopped by Julian. “What? Tricked me here with your cooking, now dismissing me with takeout after eating me dry?” I couldn’t be bothered with him. Half an hour later, takeout knocked on my door. Julian watched the yellow paper bag in my hand, pupils contracting violently. Until he saw me take out a small box of pills from it, he completely broke down. He rushed over and grabbed my chin. “Chloe! What are you doing? You take this kind of stuff too?” I spoke with difficulty: “You want me to birth a Thorne heir for you?” Anger covered Julian’s face, even his eyebrows expressing his rage. His fingertips pressed harder. “You dare to do such things, yet fear having a baby?” “You’re hurting me!” I struggled to break free from his fingers, but I knew he was really angry. So I made up a reason that sounded reasonable. “Of course I want to birth a Thorne heir, but I suddenly remembered I took a lot of antibiotics for a cold a couple of days ago.” I frowned at him: “What? You hope I birth a child to blackmail you?” Julian looked away, voice slightly cold. “Keep dreaming, greedy woman.” “Julian, you aren’t usually like this to me either! I forced you, but if you weren’t willing, I couldn’t have forced it!” Julian was angry. I thought he would turn and leave. But he just slammed the guest room door shut with a “bang.” Heh, quite trustworthy. Made me embarrassed.

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The kidnappers asked who the child of the Montgomery family was. I watched as my sister’s face turned pale with fear, and I stepped forward voluntarily. The kidnappers took me away. When the police chased us, they sold me to a remote village to be a child bride for a mentally disabled man during their escape. At eighteen, I risked my life to escape. When the police brought me home, my sister looked at me with disgust. “Having such a sister is so embarrassing!” Our parents’ initial guilt was worn away by my sister’s repeated framing, and I was killed by her schemes. Reborn to the day of the kidnapping, on the way to elementary school, I pretended to be sick and went home. “Don’t forget to miss me when I’m not around, sis!” 1 “Lucy, we have to hurry, or we’ll be late!” Before my eyes appeared Lily’s gentle smile and her doting expression. I looked around in surprise at the familiar buildings. This was the day the kidnapping happened. In my past life, Lily woke up late and dragged me to take a shortcut to school, where we encountered kidnappers. The kidnappers fiercely asked who the eldest daughter of the Montgomery family was. She hid behind me, trembling with fear. At that time, I only wanted to protect my “sister,” so I was taken away by the kidnappers. After going through untold hardships to return home, I was killed by her schemes. Therefore, I decided to send her to hell myself in this life. “Sister, it’s so good to see you!” The corners of my mouth raised into an innocent smile, hiding the darkness in my heart in the boundless purgatory. I really want to see what the lofty heiress will become in twelve years. I’m so looking forward to it! 2 “Silly girl, don’t we see each other every day?” She rubbed my head. The next second, I clutched my stomach and screamed. “Sister, my stomach hurts!” She looked at me anxiously, “Lucy, why does your stomach hurt all of a sudden? Did you sneak snacks yesterday?” I nodded, and she looked at me helplessly. At this time, Lily was the most outstanding child in the eyes of teachers and parents, so a good child certainly couldn’t be late. Seeing the red light starting to count down, she became more anxious. So I said considerately: “Sister, I’ll go home to rest first. I won’t go to school today. You hurry to school, or you’ll be late.” After crossing the traffic light, there was the intersection that determined fate. I had to let her walk the path of my previous life, my good sister! As expected, she breathed a sigh of relief. “Then go home and rest well. When school is over, I’ll buy you a toy!” I nodded obediently. “Sister, when I’m not by your side, you must miss me!” I leaned into her ear to say goodbye, then waved and left. Only after watching her walk into that alley did I slowly walk home! Lily has been competitive since childhood. Whatever she set her sights on, she would get by any means. In my past life, the neighbor boy Julian was very handsome, and she kept trying to get close to him. But he only had a good relationship with me. Today I didn’t go to school, she should be happy. Finally, no one can compete with her for the boy. But this time, treat it as the last bit of sweetness before her suffering comes. Anyway, she won’t see him. I thought comfortably, my eyebrows flying up. 3 “As long as you don’t hurt my daughter, I’ll give you five million dollars in cash later!” I watched my dad speak in a low and anxious voice. “Okay, okay, okay, I will deliver the money to the designated location as agreed, and you must release my daughter as agreed!” After Dad put down the phone, Mom cried out of breath. I lowered my head sadly, inwardly giving a thumbs up to the kidnappers. They were really on time, exactly the same as in my past life. “Dad, let’s call the police. I’m afraid my sister is in danger!” I looked at him with teary eyes and ran to Mom sadly, burying my face in her arms. In my past life, the kidnappers actually wanted to release me after getting the ransom. After all, they didn’t want trouble. But my good sister strongly suggested that our parents call the police, causing the kidnappers to jump over the wall in desperation and sell me to a fool as a child bride. Now, for the sake of her safety, we must call the police! “Honey, Lucy is right. With the police involved, at least we can guarantee Lily’s safety!” “Okay!” Dad nodded dejectedly. I heard the sound of calling 911 with my own ears. Not long after, the police came to my house and kept asking me about the situation at that time. So I told them clearly that my sister slept late and got up late, dragging me to run to school in a hurry to catch up on time, but I had a stomachache on the way and went home alone. I didn’t hide anything. After all, I’m just a child, and children certainly don’t lie. I looked at the police officer in front of me crying. “Officer, that’s what happened. You must find my sister back. I miss her so much!” Wiping tears indiscriminately with my small hands, at that moment, I even felt that I could win an Oscar for Best Actress. Who wouldn’t say “good” after seeing this true feeling! 4 Early the next morning, the police came to my door and looked at my family apologetically. They didn’t find Lily, and the arrested kidnappers didn’t know where she was sold, but I knew. These kidnappers still had some brains, playing a trick of hiding in plain sight. In my past life, they sold me to a closed small village in this city to be a child bride for that fool’s family. Reasonably speaking, kidnappers would usually sell people far away to avoid being discovered. Therefore, when the police were searching, they inevitably ignored this city and turned their attention to other cities. “Liars, you are all liars, I’m going to find my sister myself!” I struggled out of the nanny’s arms and ran outside, tears dripping madly on the black marble floor tiles, making a crisp sound. 5 “Lucy, Mom only has you left. Don’t be silly!” Mom hurried forward to hug me, hot tears soaking my neck. “Mom, I miss my sister so much!” I hugged her back, my voice hoarse. From then on, I mentioned my sister in front of them all day long, until I got a fever. Looking at the photo of Lily at home made me very sick, so I thought of a way to completely erase her existence. “Doctor, what’s wrong with my daughter?” “Mrs. Montgomery, you don’t need to worry. The young lady just has a fever. She’ll be fine soon after taking medicine.” A very pleasant voice sounded in my ear, but I was too weak to open my eyes. The chirping of birds outside the window was noisy. “Daughter, you’re awake. Come eat breakfast!” I nodded, sat obediently beside her, and looked at the photo on the table with great confusion. “Mom, who is she? Why did I take a picture with her?” Dad looked up at me incredulously and probed: “Lucy, she is your sister!” I looked at him in confusion. “Dad, when did I have a sister? Did you adopt one from the orphanage?” “Honey…” Mom exclaimed, and the two hurried to take me to the hospital. “Doctor, what’s wrong with my daughter? She suddenly forgot the existence of my eldest daughter!” After carefully checking my brain CT, the doctor asked me many questions. I remembered everything, except her. “Has your daughter had significant emotional fluctuations recently?” The middle-aged man with glasses asked very professionally. “Yes, my family recently…” “That’s it. Your daughter has selectively forgotten people or things that make her sad. It is suggested that you’d better not mention her sister in front of her, otherwise it’s easy to stimulate her. This matter has to be slowly adjusted by herself!” I sat aside playing with toys happily, not caring about my condition at all. Since then, they began to hide the existence of my sister in front of me. The photos at home were put away, and even the extra room was closed tightly and never opened again. Everything developed according to my wishes, and there was no trace of my sister at home anymore. Whether it was the butler or the nanny, they were strictly forbidden to mention my sister in my ear. Even the teachers at school were greeted by my dad not to mention her. As for my parents secretly looking for her at a high price, I pretended not to know. Anyway, without twelve years, Lily wouldn’t dream of coming back. 6 “Dad, I’m so scared. Someone is following me!” I hugged him in horror, fear unerasable in my eyes. “Lucy, tell me carefully. Dad will protect you!” Having experienced the pain of losing a child once, he was very vigilant. I intermittently talked about what happened on the way home, and they all looked worried. After a long time, Mom suddenly said: “Honey, let’s move! Those kidnappers have figured out our neighborhood clearly and even followed Lucy. I’m worried…” I heard him sigh, “Let’s move. Otherwise, they are in the dark, who knows what frenzied things they will do.” Early the next morning, I saw many maps of luxury houses at home, as well as a real estate agent talking eloquently beside me. “Mr. Montgomery, the security measures of the luxury houses in this community are very complete. Not only are they equipped with many surveillance cameras, but there are also many internationally famous bodyguards patrolling all day. If anyone dares to make trouble there, they are walking right into a trap. As for the residents there, they are all prominent figures in New York. If the young lady makes friends with them, it will also benefit her development in the future!” Taking advantage of this time, I ran to the neighbor’s house. “Julian, can you move with me? I won’t live here soon.” I eagerly held his hand. His parents just watched us laughing beside us. He looked at me a little anxiously. From the moment I was born, we had never left each other. “Julian, my dad said there are many kids like us in Skyline Estates. We can make many playmates there, and he said something about it being very helpful for our future!” I scratched my head, pretending to be ignorant. “Lucy, did your dad say Skyline Estates?” “Yes, uncle!” Getting my accurate reply, he excitedly pulled Mrs. Reid. You know, those who can buy a house there are either powerful or rich. Living there, whether in politics or business in the future, there will be people to help. Mrs. Reid was also a little moved after hearing this, but still reluctant to leave the house where she had lived for many years. “Most importantly, there are many strong uncles protecting us there. No one will follow me anymore.” Sure enough, hearing that someone was following me, his parents were anxious instantly. “Lucy, you said someone was following you!” I nodded obediently and told them my discovery in a soft voice. After all, they only have Julian as a child. Coupled with Lily’s disappearance a few days ago and my hint, I believe they should know how to choose. “Lucy, don’t be afraid. I’ll move with you and protect you in the future!” He looked at me firmly. In my past life, he said the same thing and protected me with his actions. Even if his face was destroyed and he rarely appeared in front of others, he still appeared under the public eye for me to help me resist external slander and abuse! So, Julian, I want you to have a worry-free life! In the end, I successfully took him to move with me. We were still neighbors. For the convenience of our playing, our parents even broke through the wall and opened a door.

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My unrequited love story became a viral hit, selling its film rights. Adrian Sterling, the award-winning actor who had retired years ago, suddenly dropped into Twitter, announcing he would play the male lead. The internet exploded. Netizens dug up that Adrian had a “white moonlight”—a first love he could never forget—during high school. And the new rising star cast as the female lead also happened to graduate from Westwood High. For a moment, shippers went crazy, and the whole internet was expecting the broken mirror reunion plot from the novel to reflect reality. At the press conference, a reporter deliberately asked: “Please choose a word like ‘moonlight’ or ‘jasmine’ to describe the female lead.” Adrian suddenly looked up at me and said coldly: “Liar.” “What?” The reporter was stunned. Adrian calmly withdrew his gaze. “I said, she is just a liar.” 1 Script reading. “In the original novel, they clearly loved each other very much. Why did it end badly?” Someone whispered. Adrian’s fingertips heavily scratched across the page, speaking coldly: “I am also very curious about this question.” I looked up in astonishment, then quickly lowered my head. Adrian didn’t pursue it further, his gaze falling back on the script. I moved towards the corner, holding my phone, looking at my nose, nose looking at my heart. Trying to minimize my presence. Twitter trending topics exploded. Under the tags #AdrianSterlingComeback and #BrokenMirrorReunionCasting, a blurry graduation photo was being reposted frantically. In the photo, seventeen-year-old Adrian ignored the camera, his gaze fixed on a certain spot. And in the blurred corner of the lens was clearly the slender back of a girl. “This is definitely not a coincidence. Actor Sterling and our Bella White both graduated from Westwood High!” “I remember Bella had short hair in high school! This girl must be Bella.” “The novel reflects reality, boohoo, shipping them so hard.” The assistant director next to me nudged me with her elbow, blinking gossipy eyes. “Do you also ship ‘Sterling-White’?” “No, just happened to scroll past…” “Hey, I suddenly remember you also went to Westwood High. Tell me quickly, did the actor really have a girl he liked in high school?” I silently turned off my screen and looked up. “Adrian Sterling and I are not close.” At this moment, the director yelled cut, and Adrian lifted his eyelids. He looked at me across the crowd. The director hesitated to speak. “Mr. Sterling, your state is not right. This is a reunion scene. Your look at the female lead should be a mix of love and hate… June, am I right?” I hurriedly looked away and responded. “Yes.” “Ms. Bennett, but I feel the emotion in this part is wrong.” Adrian hooked his lips, but his eyes were cold. “Why don’t you teach me?” Everyone’s gaze smashed over. The director chimed in: “Ms. White’s flight is delayed and hasn’t arrived yet.” “June, just right for you to stand in for the scene.” “This isn’t appropriate, I don’t know how to act.” I waved my hand, smiling forcedly. Adrian said indifferently: “I have an interview tonight, I’m in a hurry.” The director hurriedly pushed my shoulder, urging me with his eyes. I was forced to stand up, and Adrian had already stepped closer. The script clearly wrote that the male lead grabs the female lead’s wrist. He directly clasped the back of my neck, whispering in my ear: “When you dumped me back then, it wasn’t this expression, right?” “I remember, you should be laughing.” My breath hitched, and the script in my hand fell to the ground with a snap. Maybe the indoor air conditioning was too low; I only felt my whole body trembling. “Why did you leave back then?” He pulled away, but his lines completely deviated from the script. “Speak!” Adrian pressed me against the wall, hands supporting himself on either side of me, knuckles turning white from force. His chest heaved violently, as if a fire was burning inside. My heart skipped a beat, eyelashes trembling. “Sorry…” Adrian’s Adam’s apple rolled, swallowing those emotions that were about to burst out of his chest. “I only ask you one thing.” “Did you ever love me?” His eyes reddened, gritting his teeth. Everyone held their breath. The director shouted from outside: “That’s the state, Mr. Sterling, hold it.” I opened my mouth, my voice dry. “I…” The monitor suddenly lit up red, and Bella White pushed the door open with her assistant. The words I had gathered courage to say were interrupted. “Sorry, I’m late.” “I’m treating everyone to milk tea today.” The director took off his headphones. “Let’s stop here for now.” “That take was simply perfect!” Everyone cheered and gathered around. I was still frozen in place, my heart feeling terribly empty. Adrian suddenly smiled, his thumb inadvertently brushing the small red mole on the side of my neck artery. In high school, he always said that even in the next life, he would find me by this mark. At this moment, his breath sprayed on the same spot. “Screenwriter Bennett.” “Acting like this is more realistic, isn’t it?” I came back to my senses and stepped back half a step slowly. “You? Look familiar.” Bella White’s gaze stopped the moment it swept over me. “Have we met before?” I looked at her. “We met a long time ago.” “Oh, I’m really sorry, I might have forgotten.” Bella shrugged and didn’t care anymore. “Want milk tea? It’s hot.” She casually picked up a cup and handed it to me. I subconsciously shrank my neck, my face turning pale. “Are you not feeling well?” “I’m fine, maybe stood too long.” “Then you should rest well. If you need medicine, you can ask my assistant. I have it all in my RV.” She turned around and took out a thermal bag separately, walking towards Adrian with a smile. “Your coffee. Same old, cold brew, no ice.” A few short sentences, full of intimacy. “Thanks.” The moment Adrian stepped back, I saw the diamond ring on Bella’s ring finger. It was exactly the same style as in the paparazzi photos of #AdrianSterlingPrivateTripToJewelryStore# online a few days ago. The assistant director leaned over and let out a suppressed gasp, shaking my shoulder excitedly. “This coffee shop is in the city center, far away. Usually, the line starts at two hours. Boohoo, flight delayed but didn’t forget the actor doesn’t like milk tea and specifically went to buy coffee for him.” “June! I knew the CP I shipped is real.” “Tell me honestly, is the prototype of the story them? At the press conference that day, the actor claimed the male lead was himself, don’t keep us in suspense.” I lowered my eyes and whispered. “If I say the prototype of the female lead is myself, do you believe it?” The assistant director let out an “Ah—”. “June, didn’t expect you to be a delulu fan of the actor.” “No wonder you don’t ship them at all.” I looked at the matching backs of the two under the spotlight, suddenly glad those words were not spoken out of impulse just now. The gap was too big; even the truth seemed like a joke. “Then you can count as successfully chasing a star. Hey, by the way, what did the actor mean by ‘liar’ at the press conference that day? To hype up the heat?” I took a deep breath, covering the trembling in my voice. “He didn’t lie.” Ten years ago, I lied to him first. 2 Bella White wanted to reshoot a scene falling into water. “Stunt double?” The director frowned. “This is the highlight of the female lead being bullied…” Bella’s agent immediately changed her expression. “Director, our Bella’s period is coming soon. Going into the water now will hurt to death in two days.” “But mainly we didn’t prepare a stunt double. Finding one now might delay the schedule.” Bella held her assistant’s hand and turned to the director. “Director, Sister Judy is just too worried about me, her words are a bit harsh. Don’t take offense.” “How about this, I’ll endure the close-ups.” Bella looked me up and down. “For those long shots falling into the water, let Screenwriter Bennett stand in for me. It seems only she has a figure most similar to mine here.” The agent spoke abruptly. “Director, Adrian Sterling came for our Bella in this drama. If something happens then, can you be responsible?” The two played good cop, bad cop. The director was a bit troubled. “We have to ask June’s opinion.” Bella looked at me with a smile. “Screenwriter Bennett, please, please.” “And I heard you helped Mr. Sterling rehearse a few days ago. Why won’t you help me? Boohoo, Screenwriter Bennett wouldn’t want to isolate me, right?” “Sorry, I’m not a professional. It definitely won’t be appropriate if I really appear on camera.” “It’s okay, just long shots. I’ll teach you.” Bella got up from the recliner. She approached smilingly and suddenly pushed me. Caught off guard, I lost my balance and fell straight into the water. The late autumn pool water was like thousands of needles. The moment I sank into the water, my memory overlapped with the time I was pushed into the deep end of the swimming pool at seventeen. Fear swept over me. I struggled desperately, but my limbs seemed bound by invisible ropes, unable to move. Water surged from all directions, pouring into my nose, ears, and throat. Bella’s pleasant laughter gradually became blurry. The director realized something was wrong and signaled the lifeguard to come forward, but was stopped by Bella. “Wow, Screenwriter Bennett is acting too well.” “It’s just like real.” The world in front of me became blurred. The light penetrating the water surface swayed before my eyes, like a broken mirror. On the verge of suffocation. Bella grabbed my hair and lifted me out of the water. She leaned in and whispered in my ear, smiling. “Don’t think I don’t know what you sluts have in mind.” “Stay away from Adrian Sterling.” “Or next time, I will really kill you.” My lungs burned. I coughed violently, unable to say a word. “June, are you okay?” Bella pushed me into the water again, giggling. “Director, don’t yell cut. It affects Screenwriter Bennett’s performance so much. Come on, let’s keep one more take.” I took a breath, grabbed her wrists with both hands, and yanked her down violently. “Help—” Bella wanted to scream, but only spat out a string of bubbles. “Quick, lifebuoy!” “Ms. White can’t swim!” “Help! Ms. White is drowning.” The shore was instantly in chaos. I hugged Bella tightly and wouldn’t let go. Amidst the noisy footsteps, I heard the field manager’s surprised voice: “Why did Mr. Sterling suddenly change his schedule and come back…” “Hey hey hey, teacher, you can’t jump.” Bella kicked me hard. “Adrian, I’m here—” The high heel dug into my abdomen, a piercing pain. I sank downwards, consciousness gradually fading. 3 The smell of disinfectant seeped into my nose. When I opened my eyes, my vision was filled with the champagne gold curtains in Adrian’s dressing room. “Awake?” He came to check my forehead immediately. “Fever hasn’t gone down yet. I’ll ask the doctor to come again.” “No trouble.” I tried to get up, but found his other hand holding my right hand which was receiving IV fluids—there was an old burn scar there, left by a cigarette butt Bella extinguished on me. “The doctor said you are covered in old injuries, not just this one.” He spoke suddenly. “What exactly happened back then?” Breathing stopped. Memory rewound to that sultry and humid afternoon. In the iron locker of the swimming pool changing room, I curled up counting the light spots in the gap of the locker door, listening to Bella and her sisters discussing giving me an “eye-opener” in the deep end. And the day after tomorrow was the day Adrian took his art exam, so I finally chose to hide the soaked uniform at the bottom of my schoolbag. “You’re overthinking it.” I heard my voice trembling. The air froze instantly. Adrian grabbed my chin fiercely, with such force as if to crush the bones. Dark tides surged in his eyes, those gentle and restrained appearances shattering at this moment. “June Bennett, what exactly do you take me for?” I looked at the brand-new ring mark on his ring finger and suddenly laughed out loud. Laughing and laughing, saltiness poured into the corner of my mouth: “In what position is Mr. Sterling questioning me now? Ex-boyfriend? Someone else’s fiancé? Or an actor giving charity sympathy?” His pupils shrank abruptly. “What are you saying?” The moment he let go, the dressing room door was barged open. “Adrian!” Bella rushed in wrapped in a soft blanket, pitiful teardrops still hanging on her eyelashes. “I almost thought I would never see you again…” The diamond ring reflected cold light under the lamp, stinging my retina. “Why did Screenwriter Bennett drag me into the water?” She revealed bruises on her skin. “Did I do something wrong to upset Screenwriter Bennett…” “Surveillance.” I interrupted her crying complaint. “The set has 24-hour surveillance.” Bella’s sobbing stopped abruptly. She looked at me for a few seconds, then grabbed a fruit knife and held it against her wrist, looking at Adrian with teary eyes. “The surveillance in that place broke long ago. Screenwriter Bennett dared to attack me knowing this.” “Adrian, if you believe her words, I will prove my innocence with death right now!” “Enough.” Adrian snatched the knife, voice deep. He turned to look at me: “Starting tomorrow, you quit the crew.” Tinnitus exploded. I clutched the bed sheet, nails digging into my palms: “Why?” “This is my work.” “Just because I am the biggest investor.” He turned his back, voice cold. “I will compensate your payment without a penny less.” Bella raised an eyebrow at me, mouthing silently: You lose. Heart ached. I stumbled out of bed, the medical wristband knocking over the photo frame on the nightstand. Amidst the sound of shattering glass, seventeen-year-old Adrian stared at somewhere in the graduation photo, and the blurry silhouette in the corner was not Bella at all. That was me. My back, deliberately cropped out. He really hated me. Otherwise he wouldn’t deliberately take my play and kick me out to revenge on me. I rubbed my eyes, softly. “I understand.” “Wait.” Bella suddenly stopped me. She chuckled in my ear, breath carrying the腥sweetness of a snake: “June Bennett.” “I remember now, you were that pathetic worm hiding in the changing room crying back then.” My blood froze. After so long, I still feared her approach. Ridiculously, she only remembered now. The depth of memory is always opposite. The perpetrator shakes it off like dust, but the victim carves it into bone and blood. She stroked the diamond ring, as if stroking a trophy. “The way you roll out of the crew now is exactly the same as when you ran away holding your schoolbag back then.” She smiled like a flower. “This time there’s no chance to transfer schools.” “Bella White.” I heard my numb voice. “Do you know how long it takes for a person to die from carotid artery blood loss?” She froze. “Three minutes.” I picked up a piece of broken glass. “Want to try?” Bella stumbled back. Adrian stared at me tightly. “June, calm down.” The broken glass dug into my palm, pain sobering me, warm blood winding down my wrist like a river. I stepped back half a step, letting blood beads from my palm fall to the ground. “What’s the panic.” I looked up at Adrian and twitched the corner of my mouth. Clearly decided to accept reality long ago, but why does my heart still hurt like hell. “Just scaring her.” I lifted my steps to walk out. At the door, I turned to look at Bella. “But next time, maybe not.” 4 Going downstairs, I heard suppressed sobbing from the stairwell. I hesitated, then went forward. A small girl was crying while applying medicine to the bruises on her arm. Eyes and nose were red from crying. I knew her. Bella’s little assistant. My eyelashes trembled, and I softened my tone. “Need help?” She jumped, hiding her hand behind her back subconsciously. I sighed and reached out to her. “It will hurt a lot if you apply it like that.” “Let me.” She hesitated again and again, speaking timidly. “Ms. Bennett, sorry to trouble you.” I took the cotton swab. “I used an ointment before that was very good for removing scars, I’ll send it to you later.” “Mm…” “Did Ms. Bennett also… accidentally hurt herself before?” “Are you sure you did this injury yourself?” “Yes, I was careless.” I smiled, didn’t expose her. “But I wasn’t, I was bullied.” “Ah?” She was a bit surprised, sympathy welling up in her eyes. “Do you know what’s the fastest way to heal?” I turned my face, cupped her hand, lowered my head and blew gently. Her ear tips turned red. “What is it?” I blinked at her. “Beat back.” Her tightly knitted brows relaxed, eyes watery. “Ms. Bennett, thank you.” I patted the top of her head. “By the way, my studio is short of hands.” “I remember you graduated from the English literature department, right? Do you want to come help me tomorrow?” “But Ms. White’s side…” “I can go talk to the director.” Her eyes lit up immediately. “I’m willing!” “Then see you tomorrow.” “See you tomorrow, Ms. Bennett.”

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I was a supporting female character with a terminal illness. Before I died, I asked the tyrannical CEO, “When is the heroine’s next ovulation date?” The CEO cursed angrily: “What? Do you still want to harm her?” I shook my head and explained: “No, I just want to be reincarnated as your daughter in my next life and torture you to death!” 1 On the day I died, Ethan Cole, the male lead I had been obsessing over for 10 years without success, stood at my bedside holding a bouquet of blooming red roses. “Do you like them?” I nodded. Ethan waved the flowers in front of me, then threw them into the trash can, adding meanly: “I’d rather throw them away than give them to you.” The corner of my mouth twitched, feeling a bit speechless inside, but I decided to ignore him and directly said my last line: “In this life, I have ultimately… paid the wrong price!!” After performing heart-wrenchingly, I closed my eyes peacefully. Unexpectedly. What I waited for was not the notification sound of leaving this dimension. Instead, I got a needle in my butt. “Ah—” I opened my eyes in pain, meeting Ethan’s face full of disdain and contempt. He crossed his arms lazily and instructed the doctor: “Don’t let her die. Inject as much adrenaline as you can. Also, unplug the oxygen mask; it’s a waste of money. For such a vicious woman who has done so much evil, she shouldn’t die easily. Torture her severely, make her beg for life but unable to live, beg for death but unable to die!” “?” The doctor glanced at me sympathetically and raised the syringe again, aiming for my butt. “Hold the needle!” I stopped him. And spat at Ethan: “You will be punished for treating a dying person like this!” “Luna Miller, you really are a dead pig not afraid of boiling water. Still stubborn when death is imminent.” Ethan lit a cigarette and shamelessly blew the smoke into my face, making me cough from the second-hand smoke. “Cough cough—” Seeing that I couldn’t even speak properly, a wave of grievance filled my heart. Very good! Ethan, you forced me! I quickly grabbed Ethan’s clothes and asked ferociously: “Tell me, how many days until Stella’s follicles mature, gradually migrate to the surface of the ovary and protrude outward, finally thinning the cells near the surface of the ovary, and finally rupturing causing most of the follicular fluid to flow out?” Ethan didn’t understand. He frowned, confused: “What?” My teeth itched with anger, hating this uncultured bumpkin CEO. No choice. I could only ask bluntly: “What date is Stella’s next ovulation period?” Ethan raged: “What? Do you still want to harm her?” I sneered: “You don’t truly love her. You can’t even remember this clearly. What kind of good man can’t remember a woman’s physiological period!” “Bullshit, who said I don’t remember!” Ethan took out his phone. It’s hard to imagine he actually downloaded a period tracking app on his phone. It accurately prompts the user’s ovulation period, physiological period, and fertile period. Ethan muttered unconsciously while looking: “So it’s the 19th of this month…” Realizing he slipped up, he started venting on me again. “You poisonous woman, did you think of some shady trick to provoke me and Stella again? I tell you, no way!” I shook my head and explained: “No, I just want to be reincarnated as your daughter in my next life and torture you to death!” “Alright, off to reincarnation.” After speaking, I happily kicked the bucket. The main point was not to dawdle. Not to add trouble to the medical staff. In the last second before my consciousness disappeared, I still heard Ethan roar in panic: “No—don’t let her die! Shock her! Shock her back to life!” 2 After death, I floated in the air, watching Ethan work overtime until 2 AM every night before going home. The reason was, Stella wanted to carry out a baby-making plan with him. Ethan watched the calendar approach the 19th day by day, stubble growing on his chin. Finally. On the night of the 19th, Stella sneaked into the office to catch her Ethan and forced herself on him. For the scenes not suitable for children, I chose to see no evil, hear no evil. Finally. 10 minutes later, I waited for that last moment. Ethan looked up and shouted: “No—” And I, quickly turning into a white light, ran towards them: “Charge—” 3 When I was conscious again. I was already a tiny life. Although I couldn’t see or move, I could hear the outside sounds: “Hubby, good news, I’m pregnant!” This delicate lolita voice was 100% the heroine of this dimension, Stella. But next came Ethan’s fearful and trembling voice: “No, we can’t keep this child.” “Why?” Stella’s voice immediately turned cold. Ethan thought for a moment, lowering his voice as if afraid I would hear: “I consulted a master. A child conceived on the 19th is a cursed star, the reincarnation of an evil landlord. If born, it can only be a devil child. Can’t keep it, can’t keep it.” “Be good, let’s wait a few years!” Stella sneered: “What excuses are you making?” “I think you are mourning. Your childhood sweetheart sister Luna died, you are heartbroken and want to mourn for her for three years, can’t have happy events, right?” Ethan quickly defended himself: “Babe, what nonsense are you talking about? I never liked her. I’m too happy she died.” “Okay okay okay, we’ll keep it, we’ll keep it.” At 2 AM. I heard Ethan, who hadn’t slept yet, seemingly kowtowing to Stella’s belly: “Please, as long as it’s not Luna, even if you are Red Boy or the Bull Demon King, it’s fine.” “If really not possible, even if it’s a lazy sheep, I can accept it.” Then he started talking to himself, doing psychological counseling for himself: “No, it won’t be that coincidental that she can succeed in reincarnation here. Coincidence, everything is a coincidence.” “Amitabha, Buddha bless…” … A few months later. Ethan took Stella for a checkup. Stella said she wanted a daughter. The examining doctor smiled gently and said: “Then maybe your dream will come true.” The atmosphere was originally lively. If Ethan hadn’t screamed. “She!! She gave me a peace sign!” Stella and the doctor cast him a look reserved for idiots. Ethan, a dignified 6’2″ man, was shaking in front of the ultrasound machine. “That… the child my wife is carrying… just now, in that image, gave me a peace sign…” He tried to explain to everyone. But who would believe such absurd words. The doctor smoothed things over with a smile: “Oh, look, your husband is just too excited. Although a six-month-old child has hands and feet, they can’t make a peace sign.” Inside Stella’s belly, I almost laughed myself out of breath. Yes, I just made a peace sign. Just to scare this son of a b*tch to death. The night after the checkup. I heard Ethan brainwashing himself again: “No, no… even if it’s a daughter, it’s not necessarily her. Ethan, don’t scare yourself. Relax, God definitely won’t make things difficult for you.” 4 The day I was born was probably Ethan’s most desperate day. I heard the nurse ask Stella several times: “Mother, where is your husband?” Stella said: “He probably has a phobia of not being ready to be a father. He went to the toilet 30 times in an hour.” Pity. Even if Ethan blew up the toilet, I still had to be born. “Wah wah—” With my crying as I fell to the ground. The nurse happily held me to Ethan: “Congratulations Mr. Cole, your wife gave birth to a daughter.” I carefully opened one eye to look at Ethan. Ethan looked panicked. He grabbed the nurse like he was having a seizure and asked: “Nurse, do you think this child looks like me and my wife?” The nurse froze. She stammered: “Looks like… very much like…” Ethan breathed a sigh of relief, finally showing a trace of a smile on his face: “That’s good, that’s good.” I almost laughed out loud. Did the nurse dare to say no? Ethan put me back in the crib and pushed the still sleeping Stella back to the private ward. While patting my back gently, he sighed: “Haha, my luck is so good.” “Luna Miller, you still failed! Hahaha, hahahaha—” While the nurses went out to handle the birth procedures. I opened my eyes and gave Ethan a 45-degree smile. Using a milky voice, I said: “Grandson, Daddy is here for revenge!” Ethan’s smile froze on his face. He mechanically, frame by frame, turned back to look at me: “What, did, you, say.” Because I was just born and my speech was a bit slurred, I repeated with a lisp: “Son, I am your daaaad—” Before I could finish the rest. Ethan stood up, his trembling hands strangling my neck: “Luna! You little brat, now I am your dad!” “Believe it or not, I’ll strangle you!” I stuck out my tongue: “Strangle, strangle now!” Ethan really did it, not afraid of snapping my weak and fragile throat. I started wailing directly: “Wah wah ah wah wah wah—” The more I cried, the harder Ethan squeezed. Crying until the end, I didn’t even have the strength to make a sound. Without looking in the mirror, I could guess that my pink and jade-carved little face had been turned blue and black by this dog man. “Hehe, die!” Ethan prepared to increase the intensity again. At the critical moment, Stella suddenly woke up. Not knowing where she got the strength, she got up from the delivery bed and kicked Ethan straight on: “If you break my sister’s wings, I will destroy your entire heaven.” Me: “?” Ethan: “?”

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Lucas Reed and I were the laughing stock couple of the upper class. For his “white moonlight” first love, he chased her high-speed train in a rage, got into a car accident, and lost the use of his legs. I had a secret crush on my childhood friend for ten years but never dared to confess. After getting married, we hated each other with a passion every day. I mocked him: “Can’t even stand up, and you want to chase a girl like others?” He sneered back: “Who’s like someone, too scared to even confess.” When I opened my eyes again, I was back in high school. This time, I gathered my courage to confess to my childhood friend. That night, the boy with perfectly healthy legs pinned me against the wall with red eyes: “You really want to be with him? Do you think I’m dead?” 1 Scrolling through TikTok, I saw a video of an innocent high school hunk confessing to his childhood sweetheart in public. I excitedly hugged my tablet, howling and liking the video. “Boohoo, childhood sweethearts are the best!” “When I’m 19, I want a relationship like this too!” Lucas Reed, sitting in a wheelchair, closed his file and rubbed his brow irritably. “Samantha Jones, can you keep it down?” As if thinking of something, he scoffed lightly: “Back then you didn’t even dare to confess. You can’t date sh*t.” My hand scrolling the video paused abruptly, my nose tingling with sourness. Since I was little, I had a secret crush on my childhood friend Michael. But I was too afraid that after a failed confession, we wouldn’t even be friends anymore. Until five years ago, Michael left without saying goodbye to develop his career abroad. Also because my family went bankrupt, I accidentally married Lucas, who already had a “white moonlight” in his heart. Thus, ten years of secret love came to nothing. The more I thought about it, the sadder I got. I got up to go back to the bedroom to sleep. Passing by Lucas, the more I thought, the angrier I got. Couldn’t help but kick his wheelchair lightly: “Who’s like someone insisting on chasing a girl like others, now can’t even stand up.” “You!” Lucas’s face turned livid instantly. In the three years of marriage with Lucas, except for in bed, we couldn’t stand the sight of each other. Leaving him speechless, my mood instantly smoothed out. Even sleeping felt more pleasant. 2 Don’t know how long I slept, my arm seemed to be gently bumped by someone. I frowned, tone annoyed: “Lucas, stop tormenting me tonight, okay?” Suddenly, bursts of laughter came to my ears. “Hahaha Samantha Jones is confused from sleeping in class.” “Seems the rumor on the school forum is true, she really likes the academic god Lucas Reed like crazy.” “Yeah, crying like that a few days ago, and talking nonsense today.” Class? School forum? What the hell? I opened my eyes in a daze, only to see Lucas wearing a school uniform. His fair face was tinged with a flush. It wasn’t until the moment I was thrown out of the classroom by the teacher to stand as punishment that I vaguely realized. I seem to have effortlessly… time-traveled? Traveled back to my student days ten years ago. The setting sun was blood-red on the horizon, and the sound of reading aloud filled the classroom. Through the window glass, I looked at the healthy legs under Lucas’s desk. And the clean white shoes with peeling glue on his feet. Who would have thought, this impoverished, quiet boy. Would become the decisive, number one figure in the business world in the future. 3 The first thing after coming back is, of course, to happily hug the golden thigh (suck up to the powerful)~ Even if I can’t hug the thigh, getting some favorability points is fine. At lunch in the cafeteria, I sat directly opposite Lucas. The boy raised his dark eyes and met my gaze. “Something?” I took out my phone, opened the school forum, and found a post. Pushed it in front of Lucas. “School belle Vivian blocks the road to confess to academic god Lucas Reed. Samantha Jones suspected of being broken-hearted, crying half to death on the lawn next to them.” The comment section of the post had hundreds of replies. In the morning, memories of high school became clearer and clearer in my mind. The first thing I remembered was this inexplicable post. Don’t know which wicked alum had such a big brain to come up with the title. With such rich imagination, why not write novels? During that time, the pressure of senior year was high. After school, I went to feed stray cats behind the teaching building. Over time, it went from being wary at first to actively rubbing against my pant leg. Later, that cat was poisoned to death. While burying it, I couldn’t help but cry loudly. Completely didn’t notice someone confessing deeply nearby. The girl confessing was my nemesis, Lucas’s lifelong white moonlight: Vivian. After marrying Lucas, I heard from his personal assistant that Lucas got into a car accident chasing a high-speed train when he learned Vivian was going abroad to get married. Even when he fell into a coma, he was shouting two words. “Vivi.” But I know Vivian best. She has an innocent face but loves to see poor students get jealous over her the most. In private, she even said in front of all her friends: “Watching poor people like them fall for me step by step gives me an indescribable sense of accomplishment.” … After explaining the forum incident, my mouth was dry. I picked up the mineral water on the table and took a sip. Lucas remained expressionless, couldn’t tell if he believed me or not. After a long time, he said indifferently: “Oh.” “You drank my water.” Me: “……” 4 Lucas was very short of money. And what I had most on me was money. I hired him with a high salary to tutor me after school. Avoiding Vivian deliberately every day. This time, I didn’t want to see Lucas break his legs again. Just because after marrying him, even though he didn’t love me and often bickered with me, he never treated me badly. Knowing I married him just to save my dad’s company from bankruptcy, he still agreed immediately. After arriving at the library, Lucas seemed a bit uncomfortable. His long eyelashes drooped lazily, slender fingertips gently rubbing his brow. I opened the book and asked gossipy: “Do you like the girl who confessed to you that day?” Lucas lowered his eyes, emotions unreadable. “Why ask this?” I shook my head and opened my pencil case. “Nothing, just wanted to tell you.” “No matter how much you like her, you must put your own safety first in the future.” Consider it advice to Lucas. Lucas’s black eyes were calm, seemingly not understanding what I wanted to say. At this moment, somehow, a feeling of despicability rose in my heart. Maybe in my eyes, Vivian wasn’t a good person. But what if in Lucas’s heart, Vivian was worth everything? The atmosphere was a bit awkward, I pointed randomly at a physics problem. “Let’s not talk nonsense.” “I don’t know this problem, can you explain it to me?” Lucas picked up a pen, glanced at the question, and started writing on the scratch paper. Patiently explaining the formulas needed for each step. Snow was falling outside the window, and the knuckles of his hand holding the pen were frozen red. Several chilblains grew on his slender and beautiful hands. “Okay okay, I understand.” I quickly snatched the pen from his hand and stuffed a hand warmer into Lucas’s arms. He was stunned. After recovering, he only dared to put his hands on the outer layer for warmth. Was Lucas this obedient in his youth? Then the chatty Lucas I married must be fake, right? After finishing one, I pointed randomly at another problem in the book. “I don’t know this physics problem either, Lucas, help me look at it.” Lucas picked up the pen and asked casually while explaining: “Didn’t you say you hate physics the most?” After speaking, he seemed to feel it was inappropriate, and added “Heard you complaining to friends every day”. I lowered my eyes. “I want to test into a university abroad, to find a friend.” The pen of the person opposite stopped abruptly, knuckles turning white. Lucas frowned, his expression suddenly turned cold. He put down the pen, voice cold: “I can’t do the rest.” Me: ??? Liar, I just saw him finish this problem in three minutes. And you are an academic god. Are you kidding!! Just like ten years later, Lucas’s temper always comes out of nowhere. I never understood him. The atmosphere was a bit cold, my phone on the table suddenly rang twice. It was a message from Michael. “Sam, I’m returning to the States the day after tomorrow.” “Come pick me up, okay?” 5 Michael returned this time to attend the school’s outstanding graduate speech by invitation. More than half of the students in the school were present. I sat in the front row, looking at the focal figure on the stage. The girls beside me were discussing in whispers. “Senior Michael is so handsome, wonder if he has a girlfriend.” “Don’t even think about it, heard the girls Michael rejected could line up from here to France.” “He’s so handsome, who can resist being moved.” “……” I liked Michael too, just like most girls’ first awakening of love. Since I can remember, Michael was the most dazzling of all my playmates. Study, looks, family background, character, he was top-notch in everything. Almost all the girls I knew had confessed to him. The clearest memory was when a girl among our playmates confessed to Michael in public. Michael leaned back on the sofa irritably, hooking his arm around my neck. “You all approach me with impure motives, huh?” “Seems only our Sam truly treats me as a brother.” I sipped my juice, lowering my head guiltily. Actually… I was the one with the most impure motives, just dared not confess because of timidity. Looking at that girl’s sad expression, I only felt more heartache. Failed confession meant losing the qualification to even be friends. “……” Bursts of applause pulled me back to reality abruptly, the speech ended. 6 Michael walked towards me. “Talked for half a day, starving to death.” Michael and I went to the cafeteria together. While eating, many people looked at our table. I hated this kind of scrutinizing gaze. Even clearing the tray was watched back and forth. Walking out of the restaurant, I muttered a small complaint. “Too many people like you, everywhere feels like a gorilla in a zoo.” Although the voice was small, it was still caught by Michael. He suddenly asked me: “What about Sam, do you like me?” I looked up in disbelief, meeting Michael’s smiling eyes. Such a direct gaze made me involuntarily generate an illusion. Could he… also like me? Just this distraction, I forgot I was going down the stairs. Foot slipped, fell hard towards the ground.

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My sister, who died in an accident, moved into my body and shared it with me. At first, my parents didn’t believe me. Later, they got used to our souls switching. Eventually, they found a hypnotist to erase my existence. 1 I went crazy and smashed everything movable in the house. Countless fragments on the floor were like the cries for help from my soul. Mom covered her mouth, face streaked with tears, while Dad looked angry but didn’t stop me. I screamed at them: “Why? This is my body! Why should I give it to her?” Dad rubbed his forehead, as if making a determination: “We consulted a psychologist. It’s not sustainable for you and Chloe to go on like this. Neither of you can live properly, so we can only erase one of you. “Mom and Dad are also in pain. You are our daughter too. If there were any other way, we wouldn’t make this decision. You have to understand Mom and Dad.” I grabbed the cup by my hand and smashed it at Dad’s feet. Broken glass splashed everywhere. Dad instinctively took a step back, wanting to scold me but stopped when he remembered what he was asking of me. “I understand you, but who understands me? You are in pain, you have no choice, so why should I die? This is my body originally. If anyone should disappear, it should be Chloe Miller.” Anger and despair enveloped me. I couldn’t understand how my parents, who doted on me just a few days ago, now wanted to erase me. Hearing my words, Mom choked with sobs, but Dad frowned and corrected me dissatisfiedly: “What dying or not dying? Your sister will live for you using your body. Whether you agree or not, this matter is settled.” After speaking, Dad had no patience to deal with me anymore and dragged Mom out of the house directly. I smashed things again and then slumped weakly on the ground, three words repeating constantly in my mind. Why? 2 I have a sister three years older than me, Chloe Miller. I remember when I was six, my parents came home very late with sad faces. Seeing me, Mom broke down crying, hugging me and saying incoherently: “Chloe is dead. Sophie, you don’t have a sister anymore.” I was baffled, but seeing Mom cry, young me couldn’t help crying along. While crying, I pointed to the pile of dolls next to me and said, “Isn’t sister right there?” At first, my parents didn’t believe me and scolded me several times for it. Later, I repeated several conversations my parents secretly had in their room. They first thought I was eavesdropping, but over time, they found out I wasn’t and finally believed me. I indeed didn’t lie to them. Chloe had always been by my side. She went back to her room to sleep as usual, went to school with me, and the things my parents said in their room were all told to me by her. She knew she was dead. But when I told others I could see Chloe, they looked at me like I was a fool. Some would even say: “Done for! The family has two kids, one dead, one a fool.” Even relatives and classmates said I was a liar trying to attract attention. On the surface, classmates still played with me, but more than once I heard them secretly mocking me. Every time this happened, Chloe would rush up to fight them, but Chloe was just a wisp of a ghost and couldn’t cause any harm to living people. At most, she made them sneeze twice. Later, I never mentioned Chloe to anyone else except my parents. At home, we still lived together as usual. My parents also got used to her existence in my words, though they couldn’t see her. But when buying things for me, they would also buy a portion for Chloe. No distance could affect their deep love for their dead daughter. I would also convey Chloe’s thoughts to them, becoming the microphone between them. Until I was sixteen, suddenly I couldn’t see her anymore, and at the same time, I lost two days of time. My parents said Chloe woke up in my body, and those two days I lost were Chloe living in my body. Since then, I often woke up to find several days had passed. Chloe and I lived sharing one body like this. The movements during the days of disappearance would be written in a notebook to inform each other. Three years passed in a flash. I just didn’t expect that in just three years, my parents could abandon me for her. 3 I don’t know if my subconscious rejection of Chloe caused it. I could feel her sleeping very deeply inside me. I breathed a sigh of relief, but thinking of what my parents said yesterday, I sucked that breath back in. After venting yesterday, my brain became incredibly clear. Originally, I wasn’t as flamboyant as Chloe. Yesterday’s actions were already my limit. If I wasn’t too terrified, I absolutely wouldn’t have smashed things. After washing up, I guessed they would be very disappointed to see it was still me who woke up. Suppressing the sourness in my heart, I opened the door. Sure enough, the moment my parents saw me, their eyes went from expectation to disappointment. Although prepared, this feeling of being abandoned by my biological parents still tore at my heart fiercely. Yesterday’s messy home had been cleaned up at some point, and missing items were replaced with new ones. I pretended to be calm and went downstairs. Dad snorted through his nose and ignored me directly. Mom wanted to speak several times but it turned into sighs. Nose stinging, besides my grievance, waves of floral scent mixed into the air. Several lilies were placed in the center of the dining table, on the coffee table in the living room, in the bathroom, and even on the side cabinet in the kitchen. Everywhere I looked were Chloe’s favorite lilies. While my parents were demonstrating against me in this way, they were also expressing welcome and expectation for Chloe’s awakening. I heard the sound of my love for my parents shattering, and also the cracking sound of my own impending break. The pungent aroma, the oppressive environment—I finally couldn’t hold it back, grabbed my bag, and ran out. Only after running out of the community did I realize my face was soaked with tears. I took the bus to school mechanically, sobbing while watching the scenery outside the window flash by quickly, just like my life in these three years. Walking into the classroom, I was informed by surprised classmates that I had transferred majors. At this moment, unprecedented anger burned away my last bit of affection for Chloe. 4 The counselor said I no longer met the conditions to transfer majors again. My major was special; once transferred out, there was no possibility of transferring back. I walked despondently to the classroom of the School of Business Administration. Listening to professional terms I didn’t understand at all, surrounded by the noise of strange classmates. I felt like I was in another world. Enduring until class ended, it was still broad daylight. I had no desire to go home, wandering aimlessly on campus. Thoughts chaotic in my mind, but one thing I could confirm. Chloe had long premeditated to replace me. No wonder she wrote less and less in the notebook; she didn’t want me to know what she did. After walking for a long time, my legs were a bit sore. I sat dejectedly on a roadside bench, not knowing what to do next. On one side was a major with zero experience, on the other were family members trying to seize my body. I leaned back on the bench, imagining myself surrounded by the sky. Turning my gaze back, the word “Library” came into view. When I came out of the library holding a pile of books, the sun had already set. Back home, Mom had already cooked. Seeing me holding a pile of business administration books, her face was a bit awkward. Looking at her expression, it wasn’t hard to guess that they definitely knew about the transfer of majors, and maybe it was even their suggestion. At the dinner table, the food was tasteless to me. I only took a few more bites of my favorite dishes. Mom smiled to ease the atmosphere: “Honey look, Sophie really takes after us, loves fish just like us. Chloe can’t, she hasn’t eaten anything from the water since she was little.” This remark was better left unsaid; the atmosphere became even more awkward than before. Dad put down his wine glass and said: “Heard you brought back a lot of business books. Then you should already know Chloe changed majors. Listen to me, Chloe is smart. Studying this major will help me more in the company. Even if you study now, it’s forcing a duck onto a perch, useless. Sophie, you know what Dad means.” I nodded and continued to put a few grains of rice into my mouth. Seeing my obedience, my parents thought I agreed. They exclaimed in surprise: “So you’ve thought it through. Good. I’ll contact the hypnotist in these few days, so you can finally live a normal life.” I looked up, staring straight at Dad with clear black and white eyes asking: “Is it me being normal or Chloe being normal?” Dad frowned slightly, then quickly relaxed: “She is the older sister. You share one body. Isn’t her being normal the same as you being normal?” I nodded again, and under their delighted gazes, said word by word: “Even if I burn this body, I won’t give it to Chloe Miller to use.” Dad, reacting, smashed his wine glass with a swing of his hand, pointing at me panting, obviously furious. Mom looked at me complainingly while helping Dad smooth his breath. I really couldn’t stay in this home anymore. If I stayed with two people eyeing my body covetously every day, I would definitely go crazy. Simply packed my luggage and moved back to the school dorm overnight. 5 During the days living at school, I attended classes during the day and frantically foraged for knowledge in the library at night. Dad always thought Chloe was exceptionally intelligent, but he didn’t notice that I basically had a photographic memory. As long as it was knowledge I wanted to learn, it would take root in my brain after one or two passes. During this period, Mom contacted me several times, first persuading nicely, then later starting to say I didn’t know what was good for me. I just didn’t understand. I just wanted to live. Being their daughter too, just because Chloe died once, they felt guilty and wanted to make up for it, so they wanted to use my sacrifice to fulfill them. Seeing persuasion was hopeless, my parents found a lobbyist, someone I couldn’t refuse. Ethan. My childhood sweetheart and the object of my unrequited love. “Sophie, please, give Chloe back to me, okay?” “What… what do you mean your Chloe?” A chill instantly shot up from the soles of my feet. I heard my own voice trembling and weak. Ethan didn’t seem to notice my emotions: “Sophie, actually I knew about you and Chloe long ago. I knew you definitely wouldn’t agree, so I beg you, I really can’t live without her. You have lived for so many years, but Chloe had an accident when she was so young. It’s only been 3 years since she managed to survive using your body. Who knows, she might suddenly disappear one day. Thinking she might disappear, I feel like I’m suffocating. So I beg you, agree to Uncle and Auntie. This way your body and Chloe’s soul unite as one, isn’t it good? Why are you so selfish?” I was shocked beyond belief, frozen in place. Ethan continued: “Sophie, we grew up together. I never begged you for anything. Now I beg you. Do I need to kneel for you?” Saying that, Ethan actually knelt down. I trembled and reached out to help him up, but he suddenly grabbed me, eyes crimson: “Sophie, promise me quickly.” I was frightened by his fierce look, instinctively wanted to break free but found I couldn’t. Overly frightened, I blurted out. “You are also here to force me to die. Let me tell you, don’t even think about it. I won’t die. The one who should die is Chloe Miller.” I regretted it as soon as I said it. I shouldn’t have put myself in danger for a moment of spirit. Sure enough, Ethan’s handsome face gradually twisted. He stared at me viciously: “In that case, don’t blame me. I absolutely cannot lose Chloe.” The next second, a hot large hand covered my mouth. The place we met was a hidden corner of the campus. No matter how I struggled, it was hard for anyone to discover. Finally, I fell into darkness. 6 Ethan looked at the sleeping person in his arms, a trace of apology flashing in his eyes: “Sorry, Sophie. If possible, I can only repay you by being your servant in the next life.” With that, he quickly carried the person in his arms out of the school gate and into the car.

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