Author: Momo Chan

  • The Billionaire He Thought Was A Gold Digger

    I am an only daughter from a seriously wealthy East Coast family, practically an heiress. The first time I brought my boyfriend home for the holidays, my extended family jokingly asked him about moving in and taking our family name. Brendan, my boyfriend, just smiled that warm, guileless smile of his, saying he’d do whatever I wanted. That night, though, I saw the post. LOL, are all these Greenwich girls this entitled? I went home with her for the New Year, and they actually suggested I become a live-in son-in-law. Does she actually think she’s some kind of princess? I froze, then glanced over at Brendan. His thumb moved, and the post updated instantly. She thinks she can demand a live-in husband when she doesn’t even have nine figures? Delusional. I managed a tight smile. Nine figures? Honey, my family passed the billion-dollar mark years ago. The blood rushed out of my head, leaving a cold ringing in my ears. I slowly lifted my gaze to the sofa across the room, where Brendan Keller was sitting. He was scrolling on his phone, a smirk playing on his lips. My palms started sweating. It can’t be him. Not Brendan. We’d been together for three years. He always seemed so mild-mannered, so accommodating. How could he possibly be saying these hateful things behind my back? Clutching the last shred of my faith in him, I switched to an anonymous side account and commented on the post: You’ve got a massive ego. What exactly are your qualifications? I watched as Brendan suddenly looked down at his screen and let out a scoffing laugh, before quickly typing a reply. Seconds later, my burner account got a response from the original poster: I’m a staff doctor at a prestigious downtown hospital and just picked up a new Audi A8. More importantly, my parents are healthy and have solid pensions. I have plenty of women chasing me. She should look at herself—a basic East Coast girl—and ask if she even deserves me to consider it. She’s not an heiress; she’s a gold-digger. Afraid I wouldn’t believe him, he even messaged me a private photo—a selfie taken in his new car, holding up his hospital ID badge. It was definitely him. The “staff doctor” position he boasted about was a temporary contract with a four-figure monthly salary, a detail I’d never brought up, worried about hurting his ego. His parents’ modest pensions barely covered their co-pays and prescriptions for chronic conditions. And the Audi A8? That was my three-year anniversary gift to him. How dare he claim he bought it? I just couldn’t process it. Only half an hour ago, he was publicly declaring his love and willingness to move in whenever I wanted. Now he was online calling me a gold-digger? Seeing I wasn’t replying, he kept harassing me: What, cat got your tongue? Let me tell you, the average man today makes over $200k. You want us to move in? You need to pay us for the 30 years of our youth! That’s $6 million minimum! A gold-digger with a $3k monthly salary expecting me to give up my career? Hilarious. Just you wait. Tomorrow I’m hitting her up with the dowry demand. That’s the only way to humble a gold-digger like her. Once she’s humiliated, she’ll be a good wife. I was shaking with cold fury. He used to ask me about my monthly income. Not thinking much of it, I’d vaguely waved him off and said something like $3k—a total lie to keep him from feeling inferior. He’d actually latched onto that number and built this grotesque fantasy of superiority. I turned off my phone screen. “Brendan,” I said, looking at him. “We’re done. And before you walk out, leave the key to the car I bought you.” “What?” Brendan looked up, completely baffled. “Because I didn’t immediately agree to your family’s absurd request? Besides, the car is legally mine now, you can’t just take it back.” He walked over and tried to sling an arm around my shoulder. “Look, I’ll go talk to your dad tomorrow. We can set a date. How about that?” I violently shook off his hand, my voice glacial. “Marry me? You can’t afford to stand in the same room as me.” “Brendan, I said we’re broken up. Now get out.” “I don’t think so,” he chuckled, sitting back down. “You want me out, but what will your parents say?” He paused, a derisive snort escaping him. “Look at your parents—they spent a fortune renting this old-money estate just to make me think you’re some sort of precious East Coast elite. They did all that so they could snag a ‘quality son’ for free.” “You Reeds,” he sneered, “your schemes are transparent.” He thinks this is a rental? I was genuinely speechless, unable to do anything but laugh at his staggering confidence. A contract worker making barely four thousand dollars a month, calling himself “quality.” Had I not been blind with affection, he wouldn’t have been worthy of shining my shoes. Seeing my silence, he grabbed my hand and squeezed it. “Look, I’m willing to overlook your family’s little deception.” “You’re pretty, and your figure is certainly presentable, despite your dishonesty. Marry me, and as long as you behave yourself, I’ll love you.” Before I could tear into him, my father walked into the room. “Marry whom?” He eyed Brendan with unconcealed suspicion. “You and Skylar?” It was clear my father wasn’t impressed, either. My mother and a few relatives followed him. Aunt Carol, my mother’s sister, looked at me, then at Brendan. “Skylar, you are the Reed heiress. You’ve thought this through?” Before I could respond, Brendan jumped in. “Yes, if Mr. and Mrs. Reed agree, we plan to get our marriage license right after the holidays.” I rushed to my parents’ side. “I have thought it through. I’m breaking up with him.” Brendan’s smile evaporated. “Skylar! You’ve been with me for three years! Who else are you going to marry?!” “My mom says after the wedding, you just have to stay home and make babies. We’ll give you a thousand dollars for every one you pop out. How great is that?” My mother’s face went from pale to blazing. “Are you out of your mind? What do you think my daughter is?!” My father’s face was dark. He shot back with cold sarcasm, “Then go tell your mother you’re moving in. You can be the stay-at-home dad. I’ll pay you ten thousand dollars for every child you look after!” Brendan raised an eyebrow, a triumphant, I knew it look on his face. He shot me a smirk, then turned to my father. “So you do want me to become a live-in husband after all? It’s not impossible, sir.” “But I have my requirements.” He adjusted his collar, oozing a false sense of superiority. “First, the live-in fee. Given my qualifications, I require at least six million dollars.” “Second, the emotional distress this will cause my mother requires an additional one million dollars in compensation.” “Finally, the dowry. My minimum standard is two luxury cars, A-Class or better, and three luxury condos in the city center.” He looked directly at my father, a challenge in his eyes. “Can you meet those demands?” The entire room fell silent. Everyone stared at each other, stunned. My mother tugged at my sleeve, her expression troubled. “Skylar, the things he’s asking for, they’re just… too much…” Before she could finish, Brendan cut her off smugly. “Too much, right? If you can’t meet the demands, then I can’t move in.” He crossed his legs triumphantly and pulled out his phone, starting to play a game. Instinctively, I checked the gossip site. Sure enough, a new update: I laid out my demands. They were scared into silence, LOL. This ‘East Coast Elite’ thing is totally fake. Watch me, bros. I’m not only not going to move in, I’m going to make her beg me to marry her. Someone commented, What if they demand the same amount in bride price? Can you pay it? He replied dismissively: She’s a $3k-a-month woman. Why would she deserve a big bride price? You’re worth what you can command. Honestly, my mom plans to give her $18,000 for the wedding. She should be laughing all the way to the altar. As he was gloating, the rest of us finally burst into laughter. My mother had meant that his requirements were too measly to be taken seriously. The three luxury condos and two luxury cars he demanded were already just a fraction of the standard dowry she’d planned for me. Reed Industries’ wealth extended into the billions across multiple sectors. Seeing us laugh, Brendan frowned. “It’s fine if you can’t afford it. But next time you joke about someone moving in, know your own station, okay?” “Also, I’ll take Skylar to the Justice of the Peace tomorrow. The $18,000 bride price? I’ll wire a third of it now. We’ll wait until the baby is born healthy for the rest. Skylar is getting older, and the kids are more likely to have issues.” The air in the room combusted. My entire family roared at him. “How dare you! Say that again!” “You’re the one with the issues!” “To marry our Skylar, you’ll need at least two million eight hundred thousand dollars in bride price, or forget it!” “$2.8 million?!” Brendan was stunned, then stiffened his neck. “You don’t need to overreact just because you can’t meet my demands! Aren’t you embarrassed to ask for $2.8 million for someone of her caliber?” “Besides, Skylar is about to be a mother. I’m still willing to give $18,000. What more do you want?” “A mother?” I looked up at him sharply. “How do you know that?” He gave me that sickening smirk. “My mother said that if the condom breaks, you’re bound to get pregnant. You were screaming so loudly that time, Skylar. I thought you were enjoying it. Don’t worry, I’m strong—I bet it took on the first try.” My mind short-circuited. Before I could even process the violation, my father and uncles gestured toward the door. “Guards! Get this man out of here!” In seconds, a few large, uniformed men were flanking Brendan. He looked disdainful. “Quite the performance. You even hired actors to play bodyguards…” His words were cut short as the guards grabbed him and started walking him out. He looked back at me, disbelief twisting his face. “Skylar! Tell them to stop! If you don’t, even if you come to me on your knees with a pregnant belly, I will never look at you again!” Within minutes, his voice was muffled by the thick walls of the estate. My mother’s eyes were red with pity. “It’s okay, baby. Thank God you got rid of that disgusting pig.” My relatives rushed to comfort me, vowing to beat Brendan up if they ever saw him again. I nodded, but said nothing. That night, Brendan posted a new update. Fake heiress tried to trick me into becoming a live-in husband, then demanded $2.8 MILLION bride price! But I held the leverage! The condom broke, and now she’s a package deal! No one else will want this ball-and-chain gold-digger. She’ll be crawling back to me tomorrow, mark my words. The comments section exploded. OMG, bro, you’re so woke! Too many gold-diggers out there. They need to be taught a lesson like this! Alpha male confirmed. Never got manipulated. I crown you the King of Anti-Manipulation! I rolled my eyes and blocked his account. Then, I contacted my lawyer to reclaim the Audi A8. The next morning, I went to the hospital for a blood test. I turned down my parents’ offer to come with me. I just wanted to get it over with and let them forget about the whole ordeal. While I was waiting for the results, I heard Brendan’s voice behind me. “Well, look who it is. Said you didn’t care, but you came all the way to my hospital? Stalking me, Skylar?” I froze, ignoring him. He took two steps closer and lowered his voice. “Couldn’t sleep last night? Figured you’d come here to beg for a reunion?” He tilted his head back, beaming with arrogance. “The chief of staff here is my former professor. He’s very influential in the city. Since you’re here, I don’t mind introducing you. It’s an opportunity to meet an important person.” The chief of staff? I knew the man. Dr. Nolan. I often saw him at my family’s social functions, always treating my father with deep respect. He’s Brendan’s professor? “No need,” I said with a cold laugh. “Just leave me alone.” I turned to walk away. He grabbed my wrist. “Skylar Reed, you’re carrying my child, you’re practically my wife! Why the attitude?” “I’m telling you, Dr. Nolan doesn’t meet just anyone. You should be honored to get in via me!” I wrenched my arm free, ready to tear into him, when my phone vibrated. The blood test results were in. I tapped open the report, and when I saw the result, my entire body went numb. Positive. I was pregnant. Brendan, sharp-eyed, snatched my phone and his eyes lit up with excitement. “My mom was right! It worked!” He quickly pulled out his own phone. “I’ll wire you two thousand dollars right now. The rest will come after the baby is born and confirmed healthy.” “Brendan, you are insane!” I grabbed my phone back and headed straight for the family planning office. He realized what I was doing and violently yanked my hair from behind. “What are you doing!” he roared. “Are you going to murder my son! How dare you!” The sudden, brutal pull sent me stumbling to the floor. He stood over me, livid. “Skylar, you fraudulent debutante!” “You failed to trick me into marrying you, so now you’re going to kill my child so you can move on to scamming the next guy?” Bystanders stopped, staring at me with disgusted, judgmental eyes. I struggled to get up. “We’re not married! It’s my choice if I don’t want this baby!” Slap! A loud, stinging sound. His immense force made my ears ring. As I staggered, he roughly hauled me to my feet. “You think a $3k-a-month gold-digger like you could make me move in?” “If you weren’t carrying my kid, do you think I’d still want you?!” I fought him off. “You’re crazy! I’m calling the police!” Slap! He slapped me again. “Since you’re so vicious, you’re not getting the two thousand dollars either! Not until you give birth!” “Now, come home with me! Stop making a scene!” Just then, a man’s angry voice cut through the crowd. “What is going on here! Who is causing a disturbance in my hospital!”

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  • One Hundred Million Dollars To Never Love You Again

    My stomach churned, the nausea a familiar coil, even as I watched the soft swell of Sutton’s belly, growing larger every day after our divorce. My parents—my adoptive parents, the Robert—and Nolan, the golden boy they actually loved, were frantic. They called incessantly, demanding I schedule a D&C. In the life before this one, my temper had been a blade I used on myself. Blindsided by Sutton’s affairs, I’d spat every cruel, cutting word I knew. I had forced her hand, screaming until she agreed to terminate the pregnancy. She’d left me then, her hate a cold, impenetrable fortress. It wasn’t long before Nolan slipped in to claim the space I’d abandoned, marrying her and taking control of the sprawling family empire. When the market turned and the Robert lost everything, I was already a pariah, a scorned ex-husband. I drifted, the lingering sickness from the stress and poverty hollowing out my body until I was nothing but a casualty, dying on a lonely street corner one frozen winter. Nolan and Sutton, meanwhile, were on a permanent European holiday, perfectly tailored and laughing, financed by the Vincent fortune. Everyone had called it karma. Said I was born for a life of suffering. Then I woke up. The first thing I did was call Sutton. This time, I was keeping the baby. And the money—that was mine, too. … “You’re divorced, Kai. Letting her parade around pregnant is a joke, a stain on our name. Listen to your mother, book the procedure.” Patty’s voice was sharp, a perfectly manicured nail digging into my skin. “That’s right, big brother. You barely fit in as it is, growing up where you did. Now people are saying you have no shame at all…” Nolan’s voice chimed in, a perfectly timed double-act designed to wear me down. They were desperate, wanting Sutton to be rushed into the operating room right now. Last time, their goading had worked. I’d walked into that hospital, rage clouding my judgment, and tossed away the only leverage I had left. Nolan had stepped right into my shoes, becoming the heir to the Vincent legacy, and later, he’d even forbidden my body from being buried in the Robert plot. A bitter, metallic taste rose in my throat, but I met Nolan’s feverish, impatient eyes and—I smiled. The front door slammed open a second later. Sutton barreled in, her eyes rimmed red, clearly assuming I’d called her to confirm the appointment for the procedure. “Are you keeping this baby or not?” she demanded, breathlessly. Before I could answer, Nolan cut in, perfectly positioned to play the grieving martyr. “Sutton, don’t blame Kai. He’s made up his mind. None of us can talk him out of it.” He gave me a quick, frantic side-eye, a subtle instruction, before turning to comfort the immediate stiffness in Sutton’s posture. “We’re keeping the baby.” I directly contradicted him. The tension drained from Sutton’s face, her shoulders relaxing instantly. She rushed forward and collapsed against me, her arms tightening around my waist. “Come home with me, Kai. Whatever we need to discuss, we’ll do it there.” In the rearview mirror, Nolan’s face was a mask of cold, distorted fury. I let out a quiet, internal snort. As I turned my attention back, something caught my eye on the passenger seat: a men’s watch. Not mine. Sutton’s brow furrowed slightly as she noticed my gaze, and she opened her mouth to speak, but I simply shifted my eyes away, staring straight ahead. A heavy silence followed, broken only when Sutton turned her scrutinizing gaze on my face. “You seem… different,” she observed, her voice heavy with insinuation. I just gave a noncommittal hum. “Is that a problem?” In my previous life, I was a coiled spring of insecurity. I would have torn the house down if Nolan so much as touched her hand. I’d yell, accuse, slap her, and force her to write endless letters of apology. She indulged me at first, calming me, but eventually, she’d had enough. She had stood in front of a room full of people and sliced me open with the truth: “You’re a foundling we took in. No father loves you, your mother treats you like a chore. What right do you have to be so arrogant in front of me?” I had been shattered, a pathetic clown, my heart ripped to shreds. She knew me too well—she knew exactly where to plunge the knife. Humiliation and rage had drowned me. I didn’t believe then that I needed her. I insisted on the divorce. But eighteen years growing up far from their gilded cage hadn’t prepared me for life among the elite. The Robert brought me back, but they never taught me how to stand on my own. The life that followed was exactly as she predicted: brutal. Sutton studied me silently, clearly trying to read my sudden detachment. Her phone buzzed. Patty’s anxious voice was audible even from the receiver. “Sutton, that wretched Nolan—he drove off like a lunatic. Can you please go find him?” Patty always defaulted to Sutton for anything regarding Nolan, never sparing a thought for me. Of course, they’d been the intended pair, childhood sweethearts until I was dragged back into the Robert’ affluence at eighteen. I stood awkwardly in the grand foyer, wearing clothes that were worn and too short. A circle of privileged kids snickered. My face burned, but I held my stance rigidly. That was the moment Sutton had cut through the crowd, silencing them with a look, and led me to a private room. After that, the chance encounters started. She taught me the rules of their world, bought me proper suits and ties. But I was so insecure then. I thought she pitied me, so I met her kindness with sarcasm and barbs. Yet, she never retaliated. Instead, she fiercely defended me when others called me a “hick” or a “stray dog.” When we announced our wedding, I knew Nolan hated me, but I also knew Patty resented me for snatching her favorite son’s ideal bride. “It’s fine. Go if you need to. Just be careful with the baby.” My voice was level, my reflection in the glass impassive. Sutton’s hands tightened on the steering wheel, her expression darkening. As if to spite me, she sped off the moment she dropped me at the house. I didn’t mind. I walked straight inside. The staff, used to my sudden reappearance, quietly took my coat. “Mr. Robert, your bath is drawn. Would you like to wash up?” I shook my head. “Not yet.” I wandered leisurely through the mansion, savoring the antique, curated mid-century modern furniture and elegant décor. Finally, I stood before the safe, staring at the countless jewels and stacks of crisp cash inside. After the divorce in my first life, Nolan had taken all of it. My brother marrying my wife—a scandalous affair—yet my mother only condemned me. “What’s the point in blaming others when you didn’t appreciate her? It’s all kept in the family anyway.” My father had just shrugged, remaining perpetually absent. I was their only biological child, yet I was less than nothing compared to Nolan. The family I craved had always been a ridiculous joke. Shaking off the memory, I went for a long, hot soak and then collapsed into bed. I slept beautifully. Snap. The sudden click of the overhead chandelier jolted me awake. I squinted, blurry-eyed, at the figure standing over me: Sutton’s face, dark and thunderous. “Is it morning already?” I mumbled, my voice rough with sleep. Sutton let out a bitter, near-hysterical laugh. “We were supposed to talk, Kai. I told you I wanted to talk. And you just… went to sleep?” Before I could reply, she rushed to explain, as if looking for a gold star. “I found Nolan outside the pub. I made sure he got home and then I rushed right back here.” I waited two seconds for the silence to pass, realizing she was waiting for my approval, my frantic thanks. I gave a slow, dry nod. “That’s… good.” “‘Good’?” Sutton repeated, her voice brittle. She gripped my wrist, forcing me to look at her. “Why did you come back, Kai? Was it for the baby? Or…” Her eyes turned instantly watery. “…Was it for me?” A sharp ache radiated from where her fingers dug into my skin. Neither. I wanted neither of you. I only wanted myself. Seeing her desperate need, I delivered the necessary lie. “Both. I’m going to be a father. I guess I finally decided to grow up.” As for her? She was just the delivery service. As long as the money kept flowing, she could do whatever she liked. Just like before, sleeping with me one night and rushing off to comfort Nolan the next. Sutton’s face went rigid, a flicker of profound loss crossing her features. “Kai Robert,” she whispered, “you feel strange. I can’t figure you out.” She glanced at my flat, bored expression, then checked her empty phone. A sudden, fierce burst of anger crossed her face. “Why do you have to be like this? So passive-aggressive, so… dead! I give you whatever you want. What more do you need from me?” I looked at her, genuinely perplexed. “I don’t want anything. You’re overthinking this.” Her face didn’t soften. She stared, then slammed the door on her way out. In the months that followed, I threw myself into learning finance. Sutton threw herself into work. We went nearly three months without a single conversation. I stopped being frugal, spending money without a second thought. I went to a fashion show with friends, and on a whim, I peeled off a wad of cash and handed it to a model. The model took my hand, kissing my palm with a playful, stinging intensity. For a fleeting second, I understood the appeal of infidelity. The sudden ring of my phone broke the spell. I answered it, hearing the muffled background noise. After a few beats, Nolan’s unsteady voice came through. “Bro, Sutton’s trashed. You need to come pick her up.” The model was guiding my hand toward her velvet-soft body. “Have the driver get her,” I replied, distracted. “No! You have to come. Promise me you will.” He hung up abruptly. I sighed, annoyed, but eventually drove to the Robert’ compound. When I pushed open the door, the sight that greeted me was not a surprise. Sutton was lying beneath him, their bodies twisted and slick. Her face was flushed, a look of satisfied release on her features. They were two serpents, entangled until death. Ah. That’s why he insisted I come. “Ah! Bro!” Nolan scrambled up, pulling on his clothes, his voice thick with fake apology. “I’m so sorry. We were drinking, and we just got carried away.” Sutton seemed to snap out of it. She pushed Nolan away wordlessly, lit a cigarette, and took a deep drag. No explanation. Her eyes were flat, almost challenging. The scene yanked me back to the past. Since our wedding, Nolan had been a persistent ghost. My birthday, Valentine’s Day, even our anniversary—he always managed to find a way to wedge himself between us. When I broke down, Sutton would always lecture me: “Be the mature one, Kai. I owe him this. He’ll get over it eventually.” But Nolan never got over it. He called me a “leech” and a “country idiot” behind my back. He circulated old photos of me working as a waiter and handing out flyers. Then, at my own birthday party, he screened a secretly recorded video of my adoptive parents beating me. I became the laughingstock of the city. Yet, I had survived worse. What was this? To their stunned silence, I walked over, picked up Nolan’s crumpled jacket, and placed it over his trembling shoulders. “I don’t blame you,” I said gently, like the compassionate elder brother. Then I turned to Sutton, whose face had gone dark and miserable. I looked her dead in the eye. “I need a new sports car, Sutton. Can you wire me ten million dollars?” “You’re not going to ask why?” Her eyes were blazing red. I kept my gentle smile. “You have your reasons, sweetheart. I understand.” Sutton’s straight posture seemed to falter. Her eyelashes fluttered, and her smile was sickly. “Stop pretending, Kai! I wish you would hit me! Yell at me!” Her voice was getting too loud. I worried about the baby. I quickly urged her to calm down. Her mother had promised me a hundred million in cash and ten percent of the company stock if she delivered the baby safely. Nothing was more important than the child right now. Sutton’s expression changed instantly. She started to chase me as I walked toward the door. Nolan lunged, grabbing her from behind. “Sutton, don’t you see he doesn’t love you? Divorce him! I can be the father to your baby!” Sutton shoved him off, her finger pointing at him in pure rage. “You scumbag! If you hadn’t drugged me, I never would have confused you with Kai!” Nolan stumbled back, hitting the floor. A calculating shadow crossed his eyes, and he instantly launched into his act. “Sutton, your brother brought that drink! I don’t know why he would do something like that!” Sutton’s mind seemed to short-circuit. Her eyes, filled with accusation, landed on me. “Why would you do that, Kai?” Rage and disgust finally washed over me. “I didn’t do that!” “Bro, why would you lie? Do you really think I’d joke about something like this?” Nolan yelled, his voice laced with the deepest humiliation. He then grabbed a discarded fruit knife nearby and lifted it to his throat. “Nolan!” Sutton screamed, snatching the knife from his hand bare-handed. She put an arm around Nolan’s shaking shoulders, then turned her fury on me. “Get out!” I knew talking was pointless. I turned and walked out the door. I didn’t expect what happened the next morning. Nolan burst into the house with my adoptive parents, George and Patty Robert, right behind him. The staff backed away, afraid to intervene. My adoptive parents’ eyes lit up the moment they saw me. “Kai, you look good, you’ve put on a little weight,” Patty cooed, rushing forward to hug me. I froze, paralyzed from head to toe, like an animal playing dead. I hated them. They beat me, starved me, and when I was sixteen, they tried to sell me into a forced marriage with a man twice my age. I’d had to climb over a fence to save my life. They were here for one reason: destruction. The next second, Patty grabbed my arm. “Kai, you need to make Sutton get rid of that baby. Your brother needs her, and we’ll find you another girl. Listen to Mama, give Nolan what he deserves.” George chuckled, his eyes full of contempt. “You two don’t match anyway, Kai. You don’t belong here. Just come back to the village with us.” I snatched my arm away. This was their third attempt to sell me off. My breathing accelerated, a familiar panic tightening my chest. I pointed at the door. “Get out!” Patty planted her hands on her hips, her face twisting. “This is my daughter-in-law’s house! I don’t have to leave! You ruined your brother, what kind of person are you? You stole his place, you stole his woman, and now that they’ve slept together, you must give Sutton back to him!” She was shouting, posturing, believing I was still the beaten, cowering child she used to torment. I didn’t waste another word and called security. Patty spat on the floor and sat down. “I raised you! You owe me! I won’t move until you agree to come back with us!” Nolan had been watching the chaos with a cold, detached expression. Suddenly, he lunged, grabbing my arm and trying to drag me out. “You hick! You don’t deserve this house!” My parents quickly joined in, pulling and tearing at my clothes. The security detail grabbed my parents but hesitated, afraid to touch Nolan. Sharp fingernails dug into my skin, forcing a gasp of pain from me. I shook Nolan off violently and slammed my fist straight into his nose. “You hit me?!” Nolan clutched his bleeding face, his expression pure malice. I laughed, a humorless sound. “Get out. If you ever break into this house again, it won’t just be your nose.” I bent to pick up my phone, which had fallen to the floor. It was in that split second, out of the corner of my eye, that a flash of cold steel caught the light. I couldn’t dodge it. Pfffsch. A blade plunged into my back. “Ah!” The pain was agonizing. I collapsed onto the floor. As my scream echoed through the house, the front door was kicked open. Sutton saw me sitting on the floor, my hands instinctively clawing at my back, my face white with shock and pain. Her entire face went instantly bloodless.

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  • Five Years Of Playing Dead For A Lesson I Never Needed

    The day Mom and Dad died, our family empire crumbled, leaving my brother and me buried under a mountain of debt. To chip away at the millions, he took a gig testing out moldy, condemned properties for shady landlords, and I became a background extra—the resident corpse—on low-budget film sets. Five years of relentless hustling, never a day off, and the balance still haunted us. By the end of the year, the debt was down to the last $130,000. Desperate, I signed up for a clinical drug trial. I walked away with the cash, clutching the duffel bag full of bills, euphoric. I couldn’t wait to show Graham. Instead, I found him on the phone, a frown furrowing his brow. “Mom, Dad, Elle is doing really well. You two just enjoy your time overseas.” “She’s not a spender anymore. The punishment can probably end next year.” My parents weren’t dead. Our family hadn’t gone broke. The last five years of crushing hardship—the exhaustion, the hunger, the humiliation—it was all a calculated performance, a punishment for my supposed habit of spending too much money. The smile froze on my face. My stomach twisted into a violent knot, and a mouthful of bright, shocking blood erupted from my lips. … 1 “Just so we’re clear, if you sign this contract, we are not responsible for any adverse reactions.” That was the last thing the Clinical Trial Coordinator had told me. He made me initial the clause several times: the contract was legally binding. After five hours of observation following the dose, I’d be paid, and even if I died the next day, there would be no recourse. Back then, all I could think about was handing the final payment to my brother so we could have one normal New Year. I signed without hesitation. Now… I stared at the heavy duffel bag of cash, the weight suddenly feeling bitterly ironic. I lifted my sleeve and wiped the blood from my mouth. Pushing the apartment door open, I stepped inside. Graham quickly hung up his phone. He turned, and his eyes immediately fixated on the stain on my shirt. “What happened?!” His face went white. He was by my side in two steps, his hands gripping my shoulders, frantically checking me for injury. I pushed his hands away, my voice flat and even. “It’s just prop blood from the set.” “Oh. Right. That’s good. I thought you were hurt.” He let out a shaky breath of relief. Then his gaze fell on the bag of money on the floor, and his eyes narrowed instantly. “Where did this come from?” he demanded. “Elle, you didn’t do something stupid, did you? You didn’t steal it?” My heart plummeted. I didn’t know this man at all. Steal it? Is that what he truly thought of me? I balled my fists, taking a moment before answering softly. “The director distributed bonuses. End of the year, a little holiday welfare.” He frowned, still suspicious. “A cash bonus? That big?” “Do you want it or not?” I snapped, the irritation finally bubbling up. “You said we only had $130,000 left. This is exactly that. If you don’t want it, I can take it back to them.” He was silent for a long moment, but he finally reached for the bag. “I’ll transfer it tomorrow.” He quickly changed the subject. “What do you want for dinner? I’ll cook.” I let my gaze drift around the cramped studio apartment. It was thirty square meters, and you could see everything from the doorway: a wardrobe, a folding bed, and a tiny bathroom. There was no kitchen. He chopped vegetables on the coffee table. The electric skillet, bought for fifty bucks, was five years old, its power cord patched twice with black electrical tape. I suddenly heard myself asking, “Graham. Don’t you ever get tired of this?” He smiled, turning back to me. “Not really. My job is pretty easy, I mostly just lie there. It’s you, Elle. You’re the one who must be exhausted after all these years.” What I really meant was: Aren’t you tired of pretending? Our family had a fortune worth billions. We could have lived in complete freedom. But he was forcing this existence on me, all for a supposed punishment. Didn’t it drain him? Of course, he hadn’t understood. I decided to be more direct. I looked at him intently. “Graham, do you really think I’m a big spender?” 2 I still couldn’t figure out what exactly my crime had been. Yes, my family was ridiculously wealthy, but I was never obsessed with luxury. My clothes and jewelry were all moderately priced. In the high-society circles of Newport Beach, I was practically an anomaly. Graham’s face stiffened. “Why would you ask that? You’re much better now.” “Now? What about before?” I pressed him. He frowned. “When Mom and Dad were still here, you genuinely didn’t understand frugality. They came from nothing, bootstrapped their way up. They, and I, always had to be mindful of money. But you? You’d pester them for an expensive designer bag or a $10,000 birthday gift. What do you call that?” I took two agitated steps forward. “We’re worth billions! Is a $1,500 smartphone really going to bankrupt us? What’s the point of making all that money if we can’t spend it?” His face hardened. “Listen to yourself. It’s a phone, Elle. Any phone works. You were vain, always trying to keep up with those other spoiled debutantes, constantly demanding things. You’ve been fine these last five years with nothing, haven’t you?” I stared at him, my blood running cold. In his mind, these five years had been fine? I spent my days acting dead—begging directors to let me roll around in the mud or a freezing drainage ditch for an extra two hundred dollars. I’d lie motionless for ten hours at a stretch, rain or shine. My old rival, Vivianna—Vivi—used my misfortune to torment me, bullying me at every opportunity, and I couldn’t fight back. I signed away my body for a sketchy clinical trial, and I still didn’t know what was happening to my health. Was that a fine life? The sharp, twisting pain returned to my stomach. I was vaguely reminded of Vivi’s taunt: “You idiot. You brought all this on yourself.” “I’m going to follow you, Elle. Whatever set you’re on, I’ll be there. My parents can buy me a spot. You’ll be miserable for the next five years!” I shuddered, my skin crawling with a sudden realization. Five years. Why specifically five years? Did Vivi know the truth, too? An intuition, cold and sharp, told me that Graham and my parents were hiding something even bigger. I clenched my fists, forcing down the urge to scream the questions at him. I nodded obediently. “You’re right. I’ll change.” Graham set down the knife, relief flooding his face. He reached out and gently stroked my head. “That’s my sister. Good. Now, you eat. I have to go to work.” I nodded again. After a quiet dinner, Graham left for his ‘shift.’ I put on my mask and cap and slipped out to follow him. He walked out of the cramped housing block and waited by the curb, dialing a number. Within five minutes, a black Maybach pulled up. I watched his long legs disappear into the luxury sedan. I quickly flagged a taxi and followed. Thirty minutes later, he entered an exclusive, high-end steakhouse. I gave it five minutes and walked in, seating myself in a secluded booth directly behind his table. My heart was pounding, and I didn’t dare look up. I only knew who he was meeting when I heard her voice. “Graham, I did exactly what you asked. I’ve been giving Elle a hard time, and she’s behaved so well lately!” It was Vivianna. 3 “Good,” Graham replied, his voice flat, completely devoid of the struggling-debtor persona. “Only when Elle suffers on the outside will she realize how difficult it is to earn money.” “I’ll make sure your family’s businesses get some extra attention, as promised. We can’t let Elle know the truth just yet. I’ll tell Mom and Dad everything when they get back after the New Year.” My breath caught in my throat. My heart threatened to stop. A waiter approached, asking for my order, and I couldn’t speak. My hand trembled as I pointed vaguely at the menu, shaking my head to signal him to leave immediately before Graham saw me. Vivi’s voice was sickeningly sweet. “Graham, you told Elle you were testing haunted houses, but you have to drive all the way back to your little studio apartment every night. Aren’t you exhausted?” “Why didn’t you just go overseas with your parents?” A fresh wave of shock hit me. The haunted house lie was a cover. He came home every single night. The suffering of the last five years—was it all mine alone? Graham sighed. “Elle is my sister. I couldn’t leave her completely alone in the country. Besides, the company might have moved overseas for a while, but it’s eventually coming back.” He sounded vaguely wistful. “The five-year punishment we set seems to have flown by, doesn’t it?” Flown by? A bitter laugh caught in my throat. Every single day of those five years had been a grinding torture. Playing dead wasn’t easy, especially when Vivi—at Graham’s subtle instruction, I now realized—made sure I was always scheduled for the dirtiest, most grueling scenes. I was often lying still for hours in the cold, developing chronic chills and a relentless cycle of illness and exhaustion. And to them, it was just a punishment. A cruel, calculated game. “Vivi, I know you’ve been through a lot, too. This is for you.” Their conversation continued. Graham slid a delicate gift box across the table. Vivi opened it and gasped. “A diamond necklace! It’s gorgeous!” My heart plunged into a cold, dark abyss. That necklace. It was the exact one I had begged my parents for five years ago. They had refused, claiming it was too extravagant. I eventually forgot about it. Now I knew. That small, trivial request had been the catalyst for five years of hell. Why? We had billions. Why did asking for one necklace warrant five years of deliberate emotional and physical cruelty? Why was Vivi, whose family wasn’t nearly as wealthy as ours, getting the item I was denied? Was I really that spoiled? That disobedient? I had always been the quiet, compliant child. Why did I have to endure this? My emotions burst. I couldn’t hold it back any longer. BANG! I slammed my hands on the table and stood up. The entire restaurant turned to stare. Graham swiveled around, and his face went instantly, sickeningly white. “Elle? What are you doing here?” 4 “Was it fun, Graham? Was it fun to lie to me for five years?” I tore off my cap and scarf and rushed to his side, grabbing his sleeve. “What was my crime? What did I do that was so wrong you had to torture me like this?” Panic flashed in his eyes. He glanced around at the onlookers and then grabbed my arm, his voice a low, hard hiss. “There are too many people here. We need to go outside.” “You’re the one who can’t be seen!” I yelled, my eyes burning with tears. I wrenched my arm free. “You and Mom and Dad conspired to trick me—to tell me we were bankrupt, in debt, and that you were doing some grim, humiliating job!” “But the truth? They’re on a permanent vacation, and you’re driving home every night in a Maybach! I was the only one suffering!” My voice broke into a raw, hysterical cry. “Tell me, Graham! Why? Just tell me, what’s the big deal about spending a thousand dollars when you have billions in the bank?!” Graham’s face went cold. “I knew you were listening in this afternoon. That’s why you asked those questions.” He seized my wrist again, his grip tight, trying to physically haul me out of the restaurant. A waiter suddenly rushed over, grabbing my other arm. “Ma’am, you haven’t paid the check! That’s five hundred dollars!” Graham froze. His brow furrowed in a familiar, judgmental way. “Did you order the most expensive thing on the menu, Elle? Still haven’t learned the value of a dollar?” He deliberately let the restaurant’s gaze linger on me for a humiliating moment before pulling out a card. Outside, Vivianna followed, her voice dripping with false sympathy. “Elle, your parents and Graham only did this to teach you a lesson! You shouldn’t be ungrateful!” “This has nothing to do with you!” The nameless fire in my chest exploded. I yanked free of Graham’s grasp and slapped Vivi across the face. She shrieked, clutching her cheek in stunned disbelief. Snap! The next second, Graham’s hand connected with my own face, paying back the blow. “Elle, are you serious? Would Mom and Dad and I have gone to all this trouble if you weren’t so relentlessly spoiled and vain?” he spat. “You think these five years were easy for us? And you dare to raise your hand? Maybe the punishment wasn’t long enough!” I stood there, stunned, listening to his icy voice. In that moment, something deep inside me died. After a long silence, I slowly lifted my head, a mocking laugh escaping my throat. “Not enough?” I challenged. “What would satisfy you, Graham? My life? Is that enough of a payment?” “Stop talking nonsense!” His eyes flashed with annoyance. He called the driver and shoved me into the sedan. Tears streamed down my cheeks, but I was laughing. “Which home are we going to? The small one or the real one?” He didn’t even look at me. He pulled out his phone and called my parents. “You need to come back. Yes, she knows. No, I didn’t tell her. She overheard me!” BANG! Graham smashed his phone against the console, his anger radiating through the car. He looked at me, his eyes full of exhaustion and impatience. “And you have the nerve to cry?” he snarled. “I spent five years in that disgusting apartment with you. I’m the one who gets screamed at now! What are you crying about? Stop acting like you’re the only victim here!” I was past speech, letting his insults wash over me until the car pulled up to our old, lavish estate. Five years. I felt like a stranger as he physically pushed me through the front door. The chilling pain in my stomach returned, churning. I couldn’t hold it back: I bent over and coughed up a pool of thick, black blood. I scrambled to wipe it up, but Graham saw it. He sneered. “Nice prop work, Elle. Trying to make me feel guilty? Save the dramatics for Mom and Dad. That cheap little act won’t work on me.” 5 Mom and Dad arrived early the next morning. Graham, still simmering from their inevitable scolding, had forced me to sit on the living room sofa all night. No sleep, combined with the persistent stomach pain, left me clammy, shaky, and emotionally spent. But when they walked in, I shot to my feet. In my mind, they had died five years ago. Seeing them healthy and whole in the house felt like a nightmare made real. “Elle. Do you admit your mistake yet?” my father asked, his voice cold and commanding. I froze. My voice was a croaking whisper. “What mistake?” My father’s expression tightened. “Five years, and you still don’t understand the struggle of earning money? We faked our deaths and went overseas to show you that money doesn’t grow on trees, and that it can run out. It’s a relief that you finally know. Now we can come home.” My heart turned to ice. “So, in the end, I was the one inconveniencing you?” I countered, the emotion rising again. “I genuinely don’t understand. We have generations of wealth! I wasn’t even wasteful! Why was I subjected to this cruel punishment?” “Do you know how much pain you caused me? The last five years, I—” “Elle, just say sorry!” My mother rushed over and grabbed my hand, tears welling in her eyes. “Your father hasn’t been home for five years to visit your grandmother’s grave, all because of this. It wasn’t easy for you, but it wasn’t easy for us either. Just apologize, and the punishment ends right now. We can be a family again…” “I won’t apologize!” I roared, wrenching my hand away. “The mistake is yours! Your thinking is flawed! I did nothing wrong!” CRACK! The moment the words left my mouth, Graham’s hand slammed across my face. “Is that how you speak to your parents?!” he yelled. “What right do you have to be angry? You think I had it easy? If I wasn’t worried about you, I would have gone overseas with them!” My mind went blank. My ears rang. I could barely hear his voice anymore. After what felt like an eternity, I nodded in resignation. “Give me the $130,000 back.” I earned that money with my life. He gave me a disdainful look, made a phone call, and within minutes, an assistant carried the duffel bag of cash back in. I dried my tears, shouldered the heavy bag, and headed for the door. My mother started to protest, but my father stopped her. “Let her go. Let’s see where she runs to.” I closed the door and returned to the housing block. I took out my key to the old studio, but a hand gripped my wrist. “Young lady, this unit has been sold. You can’t go inside.” “Was it sold to a Stanton?” I asked without looking up. “Yes, it was. How did you know?” he asked. I gave a self-mocking laugh, hefted the cash, and walked away. The stabbing pain in my stomach flared up again. I headed to the nearest hospital. I went to the cashier to pay for the consultation. The moment I handed over the money, security guards swarmed me, pinning me down. My head was spinning, and I was too weak to fight. I heard shouts about “Counterfeit” and “Calling the police.” The police arrived shortly after. The officer in charge frowned at me. “Young lady, this is all fake. Where did you get this money?” I was stunned. I fumbled in my pocket and handed him the clinical trial contract. “I don’t know! I earned it in a drug trial! Officer, I had nothing to do with this!” He looked at the contract, his frown deepening. “You’ve been scammed. This company is a criminal operation.” “Did they draw your blood?” My pupils constricted. I nodded mechanically. The officer sighed. “Their drug was fine. But the needle… it was tainted.” He couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence. A cold dread washed over me. Just then, my test results arrived. The doctor handed them to the officer. “It’s a Stage Three hematological disorder. Those criminals are insane.” Ugh— I couldn’t hold on anymore. I threw up a mouthful of black blood and collapsed, everything fading to black. As I lost consciousness, I heard the officer shouting. “Contact the family! Now!”

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  • Twice Reborn And Still Choosing To Leave You Behind

    I married my former best friend’s brother, a man who would become both my decades-long tormentor and my deepest savior. At the wedding reception, Tessa Reed wore a smirk that was razor-sharp. “I can’t believe, after everything that happened at The Haven—you being framed and losing your adoption slot—you still found a way to climb into a Nash bed,” she drawled, her voice loud enough to carry. Then she leaned close, her breath smelling of champagne and something cheaper. “Too bad you were a little late to the party.” “Just a little tip from one woman to another,” she whispered into my ear. “Callum Nash only likes red lingerie.” Before I could process the petty cruelty, someone bumped me, sending me straight into Callum’s arms. As the crowd cheered, I looked up. Callum, already drunk, was looking past me, straight at Tessa. His gaze—ardent, burning, and utterly possessive—was a secret I instantly understood, a silent promise I spent the next fifteen years paying for. Despite my suspicions, I pressed down on every dark thought and we became the perfect warring couple. He ruined our child to protect Tessa; I orchestrated a scheme so he missed his parents’ final moments. He lost the use of his legs saving me from a fire; I single-handedly averted his family’s financial ruin when they were on the brink of collapse. It was a tumultuous, heartbreaking dance that lasted for over a decade. Then, Tessa died in a sudden car crash. Callum, in his wedding tuxedo, took his own life the next day. He left a note saying he would spend his next life making amends to me, yet he willed his entire estate to Tessa’s orphaned son. I ended up broken, destitute, and dying alone on the streets. But I woke up. I was back in The Haven Children’s Home. A handsome, clear-eyed boy strode in with his parents. He pointed right at me, excited. 1 “Mom, Dad, if you’re getting me a sister, pick her! She looks tough and smart. She’ll be the perfect addition to the family legacy.” The moment those words left his mouth, I knew. Callum had come back too. I recalled the words of his suicide note, and a soft, bitter laugh escaped me. He was certainly trying to “keep his promise.” In my previous life, driven by a desperate hunger to escape the poverty and abuse of The Haven, I had been ruthlessly ambitious. I worked tirelessly to catch the eye of the affluent. My calculation had succeeded: Callum’s parents were ready to adopt me. But the day before my rescue, Callum walked in with Tessa. Believing Tessa’s manufactured tears and her accusations—that I had been manipulative, had flirted with a staff member, and was simply a congenital liar—he had ripped my dream apart. That day, as he led Tessa away, he made sure to shout a warning to the entire room: “Amanda Lane is a curse. Stay away from her if you want any luck.” In that instant, I fell from a hellhole into an abyss, and I endured another five years of relentless suffering. Tessa, meanwhile, was adopted by the Nashes and became their cherished heiress. Now, I stood before Mr. and Mrs. Nash. Callum, speaking to me, said, “This time, you’ll be my sister. I’ll take care of you. You won’t have to envy anyone… and you won’t have to suffer another five years alone.” I understood. He was trying to atone for the guilt of his previous life. He knew Tessa had lied. He was tortured by his decades of regret and those five extra years I spent in misery. Mr. and Mrs. Nash nodded, their eyes, just like before, already fond of me. I was about to refuse—I wanted no part of his atonement—when a young Tessa ran in, sobbing. Her clothes were torn. She had a bloody gash on her arm. “Tessa! Are you… are you alright?” She glanced at me, a flicker of warning in her eyes, before collapsing at the Nashes’ feet. “Mr. and Mrs. Nash, please tell me you’re here to save me! I don’t want to die! Please, I’m begging you!” She was imitating me. That desperate act was how I had once saved myself from the director, a true monster. Tessa, always the lucky one, always the darling of fate, had never been targeted by him. In my past life, seeing my self-rescue tactic used against me had sent me into a destructive fit of outrage, leading the Nashes to immediately dislike me. Now, Callum knew she was lying, yet he couldn’t help the flicker of pure, agonizing concern. “Who hurt you? I swear I’ll make them pay.” Tessa didn’t dare risk not being adopted and incurring the director’s wrath. I blinked, stepped forward, and spoke in a cool, rational voice. “It was the director. He preys on the prettiest girls. Tessa is the prettiest one here.” “What? That animal!” Mr. Nash clenched his fist. “Oh, darling, don’t cry,” Mrs. Nash murmured, her compassion immediate. Callum stood beside them, his lips tight, his gaze lowered. I knew him too well. He had changed his mind. “Mom, Dad, let’s adopt Tessa.” “Mr. and Mrs. Nash, you should adopt Tessa.” Callum and I spoke in unison. 2 “Amanda, why?” Callum looked at me, utterly bewildered. He knew that at this exact moment in the previous life, I would have fought like a cornered animal to be saved, desperate to leave this pit. But now I was… giving up the chance. I ignored the complexity and guilt in his eyes, maintaining a cool, detached composure. “Mr. and Mrs. Nash, I want to try being an only child for once. I’d prefer a family without any other children. Thank you for the offer.” The Nashes looked disappointed but accepting. As Tessa was being led away, she deliberately came over to me. She tilted her head up, a look of pampered arrogance and triumph washing over her face. “I told you, Amanda Lane, you can’t beat me. I’m going to be a rich man’s daughter now. As for you? Stay here and suffer. You only have yourself to blame for being too stupid to call out my lie!” Tessa laughed and walked away. After she left, a shaken, slender figure emerged from the shadows. Callum looked utterly lost, his face a portrait of suspicion. He hadn’t expected Tessa to be anything less than a pure, innocent victim; he hadn’t expected her to utter such… despicable words. He looked at me with a desperate, complicated expression, his eyes seeking my help. He was reaching for me, depending on me to offer him solace and perspective. I chose to ignore him. I turned my back and walked away. “Amanda.” I paused. “You came back, too, didn’t you?” I didn’t answer. “Amanda, I’m sorry. You know how it is, Tessa is still young. She’ll change.” “Oh, right.” I smiled. Why should I care? I had no intention of ever being involved with either of them again. “Amanda!” Callum panicked, darted forward, and grabbed my arm. He pulled out the meager cash he had. “Take this for now. I failed you again. I owe you this. Within half a month… no, five days. Three days. I promise I’ll find a way to get you out.” “Don’t bother.” “Amanda, I will save you. Wait for me!” Callum had to rush off, not because I had refused him, but because Tessa had stumbled nearby and cried out. I simply smiled. Of course. Thank goodness I hadn’t let a single ounce of hope latch onto Callum Nash this time. After Tessa was gone, I don’t know what she told the director, but this life’s version of him was crueler, his methods more vicious. The threat of immediate danger became overwhelming. Three days passed. Five days passed. A half a month… a month passed… Callum never came. I, risking the possibility of a broken arm, managed to record video evidence of the director’s crimes, successfully contacting the police and the media. As the police led the director away, the boys who were usually favored by him surrounded me. “Amanda Lane, this was you, wasn’t it, you ungrateful bitch!” “I’ll kill you! The director is gone, what are we supposed to do now? Starve?” “Kill her! Kill Amanda Lane, the lying little tramp!” “Beat her!” I struggled to protect my head and already-injured arm, utterly overwhelmed by the pain. I had expected this. The five boys attacking me were the director’s own biological sons. They were defending their father. Suddenly, the ringleader picked up a rock and aimed it at my head. In a flash, a figure leaped in front of me. The rock struck. “Ah!” A cry of pain. Callum Nash had been hit while shielding me. 3 My pupils contracted. “Callum! Are you okay?” A stream of bright red blood ran down his forehead, obscuring his vision. Callum wiped the blood from his face. He looked frail, yet he laughed, euphoric. “I finally saved you this time! Amanda, I was on time this time!” At his words, the immediate concern and guilt in my heart vanished. In the past life, our baby—so small, so sweet, the one who loved us most—had died. Because of Tessa’s lie, Callum had abandoned me and the child in the freezing wilderness. I was forced to watch our baby die, before wandering the mountains like a zombie for three days. When the rescue team found me, I was insane. My revenge against Tessa was total. And Callum, naturally, had to protect her. We had completely destroyed each other. I attacked his deepest insecurities; he targeted my very soul. The decades of entanglement only ended when he sacrificed his legs to save me, leaving the proud, elegant young man a cripple. At the time, consumed by guilt, I decided to let go of the past and live a life with him. But he used that very sacrifice as leverage. Pale and weak, sitting in his hospital bed, Callum’s eyes were red as he begged me, “Amanda, let go of Tessa. Do it for my legs.” My soul emptied out of me in that instant. I cried silently and agreed. “Fine. I promise.” Now, Callum was hysterical, holding my hand even through his pain. “Amanda, I told you I would protect you.” The next second, I was shoved to the ground. Slap— Tessa appeared and struck my face several times. “You curse! Stay away from my brother! He’s mine!” Tessa carefully helped Callum to his feet. “Tessa, don’t do that. Apologize to Amanda immediately.” Tessa immediately burst into tears, and Callum, unable to stand her distress, began to soothe and mollify her. I ignored the triumphant smile on Tessa’s face, brushed the dirt from my clothes, and prepared to leave. “Stop right there! Who said you, the curse, could leave?” Tessa’s true, spoiled nature emerged. “Stay away from my brother. I won’t allow you to hurt him.” “Tessa!” When Callum saw me turn, he instinctively stepped forward, shielding Tessa with his body. He always assumed I was the aggressor who would hurt Tessa. He always automatically forgot that my situation was invariably worse than hers. I rattled off a few names and several complex account numbers. Tessa was utterly confused; she didn’t understand a word. Her gaze toward me sharpened with malice. Callum, however, understood. That was the exact information detailing the start of his parents’ business decline. It had taken me years of effort, contacts, and painstaking investigation in the previous life to uncover that data, which I had used to save his company. “Amanda, what are you…” “Thank you for saving me this time, but don’t bother again. Callum, I don’t owe you anything. I hope you can keep your distance from now on.” Callum was struck dumb, as if his soul had been pulled from his body. He couldn’t process it. He likely never imagined that the woman who had deeply loved him in the previous life would now only wish to escape him entirely. 4 Soon, the state took over The Haven. They improved the facilities and brought in professional, ethical staff. The former director was already locked up. I and the other children had been spared five years of hardship. The other kids—those who had both bullied me and occasionally protected me—now recognized the positive change I’d engineered. They began to rally around me, seeking my approval and friendship. The director’s five illegitimate sons, however, started to get bullied themselves. I watched, satisfied. I always pay my debts, good or bad. The following month, Callum rushed to find me. He apologized profusely, explaining that Tessa had been sick and he had been tied up caring for her. He hung his head, apologizing. He was always like this: choosing Tessa, then offering me a shred of warmth… like dangling a carrot on a stick for a donkey. “Amanda, I found a new school for you. And I found a family willing to adopt you.” “No need, thank you.” My tone was polite but utterly distant. The government had already arranged schooling for all of us. It was an unfortunate coincidence that Tessa and I were placed in the same class. Within three days, the entire grade knew the rumor: I had “flirted with the forty-year-old director of the orphanage.” Boys pulled at my clothes strap; girls looked at me with disgust and contempt, ostracizing me. Soon, they gave me a vicious nickname, “The Pit Stop,” and hurled every insult they could think of. All of this was Tessa’s work. I calculated the time. My birth parents, whom I’d painstakingly found in my past life, should be returning to the country soon. Feeling confident, during a class break, Tessa threw her pencil case, hitting me in the back of the head. She yelled, “Hey, Pit Stop, new clothes today, huh? Which man did you trade for that outfit?” “Hahaha!” “Right! The total trash!” “She’s disgusting, that Pit Stop…” I stood up instantly and strode toward Tessa. As she watched me, cocky and challenging, I grabbed her hair and slammed her head straight into the mop bucket. “Ah! Ahhh! Let go of me, let me go!” I grinned, a cruel, cold expression. “Your mouth is filthy. You keep giving me disgusting nicknames. Tessa, we both came from The Haven. The Nashes wanted to adopt me. I gave that slot to you. The director initially targeted you. I protected you. Now, you repay my kindness by spreading lies and bullying me? You are a traitorous, ungrateful bitch!” “No! Ah! Stop it…” The dirty mop water spilled into Tessa’s mouth as she screamed. I sped up my accusations, detailing the things Tessa had done: how she’d turned people against each other, the nasty things she said about her own clique, how she’d spread rumors that forced the previous teacher to quit… As I spoke, nobody tried to stop me from punishing Tessa. In fact, some even shouted encouragement. More people were exchanging glances, realizing that everything I was saying about Tessa was true. “Amanda Lane, I won’t let you hurt Tessa!” Someone charged at me from behind. I lost my footing and fell. My left arm, the one I’d injured recording the director, took the brunt of the fall. The pain was excruciating; I was sure I heard the sickening crunch of the bone breaking again. My face went white. Callum, who had rushed over and helped Tessa up, looked at me on the floor, his eyes filled with shock and immediate regret. Tessa, sobbing, clutched his arm. “Brother, make her leave school! Amanda bullied me! Get her expelled!” “Alright, I promise, little sister.” I scoffed. “Of course. Callum, you are as predictable as ever, and just as contemptible.” Callum lowered his head. “Amanda, you were wrong first. But I will make it up to you later.” “You don’t have to, because I…” The teacher suddenly burst excitedly into the room, oblivious to the chaos. She shouted, “Amanda Lane, your birth parents are here to take you home! They said they are taking you abroad for a family reunion!”

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  • My Cheating Ex Is Now My Housewife While I Rule His Empire

    My husband was celebrating another woman’s birthday. The despair had hollowed me out, leaving me standing on the edge of the penthouse balcony. Just as I prepared to step over the railing, a torrent of text—a frantic, unsolicited Live Feed—flashed across my vision. [DON’T YOU DARE, SIS! That dog of a man will be on his knees for you soon!] [If you die now, you’ll miss the whole damn show where he regrets everything!] [Don’t believe us? Two minutes. He’s going to text you to run a bath and wait up for him!] I stood there, paralyzed by the sheer audacity of the words. A split-second later, my phone vibrated in my hand. Gavin: On my way home. Run a bath for me, will you? The text was there. Exactly two minutes later. I believed. This wasn’t a hallucination; it was a divine, chaotic intervention sent to teach me how to win my life back. So, following the bizarre instructions of The Feed, I adjusted the subtle, suggestive bruise on my neck—a deliberately ambiguous red mark—and braced myself to greet my late-returning husband. 1 The sound of the lock turning in the door was my cue. I took a deep, steadying breath and opened the door. Gavin Caldwell was standing there, his arms wrapped around a heavily intoxicated Gwen Foster. The air around him was thick with expensive cologne and stale alcohol. His brow was furrowed in his usual, preemptive scowl, ready with his standard excuse. “She had too much, I was just—” “I actually have to go out tonight.” I cut him off before his practiced denial could fully form, my voice as soft and inviting as a spring tide. He froze. I stepped aside, offering him a pleasant smile. “Just get her settled. Take a shower and get some rest when you’re done. Don’t worry about the house; the cleaning crew will handle it tomorrow.” This stream of cooperative, not-a-tear-in-sight, utterly accommodating dialogue stunned him into silence. Gavin’s gaze finally pulled away from his confusion and landed on me. For the first time in months, he looked at me like I was a stranger he was assessing. I was wearing a sleek black silk slip dress, which subtly defined curves I hadn’t let him see in years, and his eyes snagged immediately on the glaring red mark high on my neck. His face darkened instantly. “What is that on your neck?!” Gavin’s voice held a rare, shaky tremor. I instinctively reached up to cover it, feigning a fleeting moment of panic. “It’s nothing, probably… a mosquito bite?” Without waiting to see the full fury on his face, I grabbed my clutch from the sofa, clicked my heels, and walked straight past him. “Where in God’s name are you going?!” His voice, tight with suppressed rage, exploded behind me. I didn’t turn back, leaving him only with the image of my confident, swaying silhouette. Outside, the cool night air sent a shiver down my spine. I leaned against the exterior wall, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm. “Feed,” I whispered to the empty air, “was that… was that right?” Instantly, the dense lines of text swarmed around me again. [YES! Absolutely! You are the QUEEN!] [Did you see the look on that dog’s face? I’m living for this!] [You were too much of a good girl before, Helena! He thought you were his permanent fixture!] [Remember: Good women get a nice headstone; bad women get everything!] I thought of Gavin’s stunned, disbelieving fury—a sign of engagement and attention I hadn’t received from him in ages. I felt a rush of adrenaline. I believed The Feed more than ever. [You need to commit to the bit! Sis, go to a nightclub! Let him spin out trying to find you!] A nightclub? I was naturally reserved; I barely dared to raise my voice. But The Feed was relentless, a hundred invisible hands pushing me forward. The deafening music, the flashing, dizzying lights, the writhing mass of people on the dance floor. I perched awkwardly in a corner, nursing a single drink for ages without taking a sip. [Don’t be shy, Queen! You’re gorgeous! Own it!] [Get up! Feel the rhythm! Release the demon!] Fueled by the chaotic energy of The Feed and the atmosphere, I found myself, almost involuntarily, stepping onto the dance floor. My movements were stiff at first, but slowly, I let the music consume me. For the first time, I realized how exhilarating dancing could be. When I was finally exhausted, I returned to the booth and picked up my phone, which I’d silenced. The screen blazed with: Missed Calls (27) Gavin Caldwell. My husband, who had been emotionally distant for an entire year, had called me twenty-seven times? 2 After a year of me being the one desperately trying to reach him, the sight of those missed calls was deeply satisfying. [Ignore him! Let him stew! He needs to know what it’s like to be cut off!] I dutifully slipped the phone back into my bag, a sly smile creeping onto my face. Honey, I thought, it’s not that I don’t want to call you back. It’s that I need to make you… fall in love with me again. You’ll understand, right? I stayed out all night. I returned to the apartment the next morning, exhausted and faintly nauseous from the lingering scent of alcohol. The living room light was on. Gavin was slumped on the sofa, his eyes bloodshot, an overflowing ashtray at his feet. Seeing me, he bolted toward me, grabbing my wrist with a desperate urgency. His voice was hoarse. “Where were you?!” I caught the cloying, residual scent of Gwen’s perfume on his shirt. When I remained silent, his face contorted in disbelief. “This isn’t like you! You never stay out all night!” I lifted my eyes and blinked innocently. “What’s the big deal about staying out late?” “Gavin, we’re adults. Doesn’t everyone need their own life?” My retort silenced him instantly. The bloodshot eyes, for the first time, held a foreign mix of confusion and a flicker of genuine panic. “Isn’t that what you always used to tell me?” I tilted my head, smiling sweetly. “You said you were busy. You said you had obligations. You said… adults always need their own space.” I tossed his own dismissive, well-worn phrases right back at him. My heart was racing, my palms sweating from the sheer tension of the performance. [Steady, Queen! Don’t break character! You are now the Empress Helena Barrett!] [Yes! Fight fire with fire! So satisfying!] The Feed provided an infinite well of nerve. Just then, the master bedroom door clicked open. Gwen Foster, swathed in an oversized silk robe, rubbed her sleepy eyes and strolled out, radiating a lazy, practiced sensuality. That robe was my favorite one. In the past, this sight would have sent me into a jealous frenzy, ready to claw her eyes out. [The mistress is here! High drama alert! Remember, whoever loses their temper first, loses the game!] I took a deep breath. Calmness was my greatest weapon. Gwen feigned surprise upon seeing me, covering her mouth with a hand, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness. “Oh, Helena! You’re back! I’m so sorry, I drank too much last night, and Gavin was worried I’d ruin my dress, so he just… he just grabbed one of your robes. You don’t mind, do you?” Gavin’s face was awkward and tight. “Her clothes were stained. I just grabbed the first thing.” “Mind?” I laughed, walking directly up to Gwen. My tone was full of reproach, but directed pointedly at Gavin. “Gavin, how could you give Gwen one of my old, worn-out things? That’s so thoughtless.” I took Gwen’s hand and, with startling affection, led her toward my walk-in closet. Under the astonished gaze of both of them, I pulled a brand-new, never-worn silk slip dress from the closet and pressed it into her hands. “This one’s new; it hasn’t even been worn. The color will look stunning on you. Go put it on, darling. It’s perfect.” [HOLY CRAP! That is next-level queen behavior! Psychological warfare!] [Gwen’s face is GREEN! She tried to provoke you, and you treated her like she was picking up discards!] I ignored their petrified expressions, returned to the bedroom to change into a crisp, business-ready pantsuit, and picked up my bag. Passing through the living room, I stopped at the hallway safe and removed a small velvet box. “Where are you going?! And what is that?!” 3 Gavin finally snapped out of his shock and grabbed my wrist. I gently, but firmly, pulled my hand away and opened the box. Inside, nestled on the satin lining, was a brilliant sapphire jewelry set. “Oh, this?” I picked it up, my tone intimate, laced with playful complaint. “The ‘Azure Heart,’ remember? The one you spent eight million at auction for the year we got married? The same set… you wanted to give Gwen but never did.” Gavin’s pupils contracted sharply. I looked at Gwen with a faux-apologetic expression. “I’m sorry, Gwen, it’s not that I’m stingy. It’s just that Mrs. Sinclair, the wife of the CEO of Sinclair Holdings—the massive account Caldwell Industries is chasing—saw this set a few days ago. I’m meeting Mrs. Sinclair for afternoon tea today. I’m giving her this as a gift to finalize the partnership.” “Are you insane?!” Gavin’s voice trembled with disbelief. “You know how much you cherished this set! You wouldn’t even let me touch it back then!” “I’ve had a change of heart,” I looked at him earnestly, my gaze clear. “It’s just jewelry. It’s been sitting there gathering dust. It should be used to achieve greater value, don’t you think?” I smiled, closed the box, and patted his shoulder. “You two enjoy your time at home. I’m leaving.” I clicked my heels and walked out without looking back. As I got into my car and closed the door, I held the velvet box to my chest, and a sharp, familiar pain pinched my heart. After all, this was once my most treasured proof of his love. Giving it away, no matter the reason, hurt. [Don’t be sad, sis! You have to risk the bait to catch the whale!] [Closing the Sinclair deal means at least fifty million in profit for Caldwell Industries! You’re a shareholder! You’re getting paid!] [Think bigger! You traded his tainted jewelry for money and power! Most importantly, he will see you in a completely new light!] I looked at The Feed, took a deep breath, and nodded firmly. The Feed was right. I needed to think bigger. Sacrificing a material object for a massive business advantage was absolutely worth it. When I presented “The Azure Heart” to Mrs. Sinclair, the look of unbridled delight in her eyes was all the assurance I needed. Predictably, the partnership between Sinclair Holdings and Caldwell Industries was swiftly finalized, and I was personally named the lead project liaison by Mrs. Sinclair herself. The following days were a whirlwind. I plunged back into the corporate world I had abandoned three years ago, absorbing everything like a sponge. Meetings, reports, corporate dinners… my schedule was packed tight. [Go, Queen! Let him see how utterly captivating you are when you focus on your career!] [That’s right! Ignore him! Men only slow down your money flow!] 4 The Live Feed was my unwavering support system. I could feel Gavin’s eyes constantly lingering on me, filled with curiosity and a complex emotion I couldn’t quite decipher. But I had no time to respond. Firstly, The Feed forbade it; secondly, I was genuinely too busy. The night of the massive celebration gala, as the project lead, I was required to attend with Gavin. I changed into a champagne-colored mermaid gown, which perfectly sculpted my slender figure. When I stepped out, Gavin was leaning against the wall, waiting. The moment he saw me, his breath visibly hitched, and his eyes held a look of undisguised admiration. I felt a surge of secret satisfaction but kept my face cool. I merely asked, “Shall we go?” His Adam’s apple bobbed. He silently stepped forward and opened the door for me. Just as we were about to leave, a syrupy voice chirped from the side. “Gavin, darling, Helena! Where are you two off to?” Gwen materialized seemingly out of nowhere, holding a glass of deep violet juice. She took a theatrical stumble and lunged straight toward me! The icy liquid splattered across my champagne dress, instantly spreading a large, glaring stain. “Oh! I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry, Helena!” Gwen shrieked in manufactured distress, tears instantly welling up. “I didn’t mean to… I just slipped… What are we going to do? Tonight’s gala is so important. You can’t go without a dress. We can’t let Gavin go alone, can we?” She was apologizing, but every word carried a clear implication. Gavin’s initial surprise turned into a hesitant look as he saw my ruined dress. After a few seconds of silence, he actually spoke. “Maybe… Helena, you should go home and change. We’re running out of time. I can take Gwen to the venue for now.” [NO! ABSOLUTELY NOT!] [The audacity of this man! Can he really not see through that manipulative witch?!] [If you obey, Queen, all your efforts will be for nothing! He will immediately revert to treating you like the pitiful, disposable wife you used to be!] I looked up at Gavin’s hesitant, yet somehow entitled, expression. Without a moment of hesitation, I swung my hand and delivered a clean, sharp slap across his face. “Snap!” The loud crack echoed through the marble entryway. Gavin’s head jerked to the side. He stared at me in stunned disbelief. “She’s immature, but you, Gavin? You should know better.” My voice was icy. Then I turned to Gwen, who was still mid-act, covering her mouth, a triumphant glint in her eyes. “Snap! Snap!” I backhanded her twice, the force sending her sprawling onto the floor, momentarily stunned.

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  • The Entire Admin Team Quits and Joins Your Bitter Rival

    The Annual Gala was underway when the CEO suddenly announced an extra segment. “Time for the Department Showdown! The team that lands at the bottom of the rankings gets a little… incentive!” The huge screen lit up, and the year-end performance metrics scrolled down. Sales was first, Operations second, Marketing third… The Administrative Department: Not listed. Because Admin didn’t have a sales quota. Our CEO, Victor Albright, smiled broadly as he looked toward our table. “My Admin team, come on up to claim your prize!” Two guys in tuxedos walked out, hauling a wicker basket filled with old-school straw brooms. The entire room erupted in laughter. “Time to sweep out the cobwebs from last year, folks! Let’s try not to land at the bottom next year, shall we?” Victor personally handed a broom to each of us. The stage lights flashed and dozens of phones were held up. The Sales Director, Brent, laughed the loudest. “The Admin team finally has a spotlight moment! Hilarious!” 1 Back at our table, Devon slammed her broom onto the linen cloth. “Are you kidding me? A public shaming for the entire department?” Patrice, our most senior staffer, hissed, “Keep it down, Devon.” “Why should I?” Devon’s eyes were red. “I’m getting married in the spring, and I was counting on that bonus. Instead, I get a goddamn broom?” Tess, the youngest, kept her head down, her shoulders shaking. Patrice sighed, running a hand over her head. “My husband’s checkup is next month. I was hoping…” She didn’t finish the thought. My phone buzzed. A private message from Victor. [Joss, don’t overthink it. Just trying to lighten the mood. You’re a veteran here, you need to have a little perspective. Manage your team’s mindset, and try not to come in last next year.] Perspective. There were five of us in Admin. We handled everything from high-stakes vendor negotiations and regulatory compliance to booking flights, managing deliveries, and fixing the damn office printer. Who processed the contracts for Sales? Who spent all night coordinating materials for Marketing’s biggest launch? Who managed Victor’s chaotic travel itinerary? We did the dirty work. And for what? “No quota,” and a cheap broom as a reward. Devon glared at me. “Boss, are we going to let this slide?” I placed my broom gently on the table. “No. This is not over.” The gala ended, and I walked straight to Victor’s office. The door was open. It was packed and noisy. The Sales Director, the Marketing Director, the CFO—all of them were gathered around Victor, practically bowing, their faces flushed with success and expensive scotch. “Victor, the performance jump this year is all thanks to your leadership!” “Next year, we’ll double the numbers, I promise!” Victor’s smile froze for a split second when he saw me. “Alright, everyone, wrap it up. We’ll hit the ground running after the holidays.” As the crowd dispersed, Victor gestured for me to sit down, slowly lighting a cigarette. “What’s with the scowl? Did someone forget to pay you?” I fought to keep my voice even. “Victor, the segment tonight—was it necessary?” “Which segment?” “The brooms.” He blew out a plume of smoke and chuckled. “Joss. You’re too sensitive. It was just a harmless gag. Look, everyone else was having fun.” “That’s because the brooms weren’t handed to them.” “Oh, you’re seriously upset about this?” Victor stubbed his cigarette in the ashtray and leaned back. “Fine. I’ll ask you this: Based on what metrics should Admin not be at the bottom? Sales closed three hundred million in deals. Ops cut client acquisition costs by forty percent. Marketing tripled our exposure—what data, Joss, can you present for Admin?” A blinding rage flared up inside me. Data. Data. Always data. In the middle of the year, when the company issued raises, every department got a bump except ours. When I asked why: [Admin salaries are fixed, Joss. Unlike the business departments, you don’t have performance fluctuations. Raises for your team have to be prioritized later.] [You’re a veteran, Joss. Show some perspective.] [Wait until the end of the year. I’ll make it up to you on the annual bonus. I won’t let you down.] Our salaries were fixed, yes—fixed for three years, while the cost of living and rent kept climbing. Year after year, he painted a future that never arrived. But because he’d promised a larger year-end bonus, my team had endured. I spoke through clenched teeth. “We accepted no raise mid-year because you promised to compensate us with the year-end bonus!” BANG! His coffee mug hit the desk hard. “Jocelyn! Watch your tone!” “The company has a clearly defined assessment model. Admin doesn’t generate revenue, so by the contribution metric, you’re at the bottom. What’s the problem?” “But in previous years—” “Previous years are previous years!” Victor cut me off. “For the company to grow, we need to reform. Admin needs to learn to absorb its own costs and stop relying on the company to bail you out!” I stood up. “I understand. You see the Admin Department as completely disposable.” “I didn’t say that.” “You didn’t have to. Your actions speak volumes.” I turned to leave. “Stop right there!” Victor’s voice dropped, cold and dangerous. “Joss Riley, you’ve been an Admin Manager for eight years. How can you be so utterly lacking in perspective? You throw a tantrum because your bonus is smaller? What message does that send to the rest of the company about the Admin function?” I looked back, locking eyes with him. “Victor, I can afford to lack perspective. But my staff are relying on those bonuses to get by. Patrice’s husband needs a medical checkup. Devon is getting married. Tess promised to take her mother to the coast for her arthritis—” “That is their personal business. What does that have to do with the company?” Victor waved his hand dismissively. “This company is not a charity. We can’t overpay employees just because they have family problems. If you’re unhappy, go ahead and sue us. See if the Labor Board will even hear your case!” I froze. He wasn’t going to show me even a shred of respect. “Fine. Then I will go ask them.” Victor smirked. “Be my guest. But a word of caution: if you burn this bridge, you won’t be working in this city again.” I didn’t reply. I slammed the door behind me. 2 Walking out of Victor’s office, I ran right into Tori Bell, the HR Director, in the hallway. She smiled sweetly and took my arm. “Joss, perfect timing. I was just looking for you. Come sit in my office?” I didn’t resist. Tori poured me a glass of water, sat opposite me, and sighed, frowning. “Why the fuss?” I looked up, utterly astonished. “Why the fuss? Tori, my staff—they are all banking on that bonus!” “Patrice’s husband has a tumor on his liver. She needs to take him to a specialist in New York.” “Devon is over thirty and finally getting married. She was counting on that money for the reception.” “Tess’s mother has rheumatism. She promised her she’d take her down to Miami for the winter… She can’t take another Northern winter.” “But the company is not a charity, Joss. We have to follow procedure. We can’t increase compensation just because an employee is struggling.” Tori said it so casually, as if she were talking about the weather. “Fine, I won’t talk about struggle!” I pulled my chair closer, opened my phone, and slapped it on the desk. “Let’s talk about contribution!” “The Admin Department came in last, which means we contributed nothing? Let’s run the numbers and see what Admin actually contributed!” I scrolled through my work emails. “This year, the company signed sixty-three major contracts. Every single one of those contracts—the flow, the signing, the archiving—was managed by Admin. If we outsourced that legal-admin work, the filing fee alone would be about $3,000 per contract. Sixty-three contracts? That’s nearly $190,000 in costs we saved the company.” “The company passed the Environmental Safety audit last year because Admin ran to the regulatory center over twenty times, prepared hundreds of pages of documentation, and spent three months getting it right. Outsourced to a consultant? That’s $150,000, minimum.” “And vendor management—we maintained relationships with forty-seven long-term suppliers. We renegotiated payment terms from Net-30 to Net-60 for twelve of them. Just that one change saved the company hundreds of thousands in cash flow costs!” “Our five-person Admin team averages $6,000 a month. That’s an annual payroll of $360,000. Any one of the things I just listed easily covers that cost! You’re calling that ‘no contribution’?” Tori was momentarily speechless. After a long pause, she said, “We didn’t say no contribution. But Admin is overhead. On the financial statements, it’s a pure expenditure…” I scoffed. “Then let’s talk about the workload.” I pulled up the attendance records. “Last year, the Admin department averaged forty-two hours of overtime per person, per month. When we relocated the office on Labor Day weekend, my entire team worked seventy-two straight hours without sleep. During the Thanksgiving rush, when a major client flew in unexpectedly, we handled everything from airport pickup to lodging to conference room setup—a full-service operation—and didn’t even get a dinner break!” “Did we get overtime pay? No. Comp time? No. Any kind of bonus? No!” “What does that work break down to hourly? Eighteen dollars an hour! The convenience store clerk across the street makes twenty-two dollars an hour!” I leaned in, delivering each word deliberately. “Eighteen dollars an hour, doing all the grunt work, just to be handed a broom at the end of the year and told to sweep away bad luck—Tori, do you honestly think that’s fair?” Tori’s face hardened. “Joss, you can’t just focus on your own small contribution. You have to compare horizontally. Sales and Marketing contributed far more than you.” I stood up, giving her a look of utter contempt. “Contributed what? Delayed expense reports?” “Admin has covered eighty thousand dollars in outstanding expense reports for other departments, which Finance is still refusing to process! They claim the procedures aren’t compliant! What procedures? We used the exact same process last year!” “And what about the Planning Department, Victor’s nephew’s little team? They produced three proposals all year. One of them was flagged for plagiarism and cost us a $50,000 PR settlement, which, by the way, was deducted from the Admin budget!” “That’s the contribution, right?” The more I spoke, the greater my sense of injustice. “And your HR department—all you do is process attendance and issue penalty notices! Fifty dollars for one minute late, a hundred for forgetting to clock in, fifty for a messy desk! You collected over thirty thousand dollars in fines last year! Where did that money go?” I let out a sharp, cold laugh. “You’re all true heroes, aren’t you? The great contributors!” “If the company genuinely believes Admin has no contribution, then don’t expect us to work for free anymore!” “We might be loyal, but we’re not stupid! We’ve eaten enough stale cake to know when the party’s over.” Ignoring Tori’s purple face, I walked out. Behind me, I heard the sound of the glass of water shattering on the floor. Her “good intentions” were nothing more than a sales pitch for Victor. Ultimately, I knew Tori had signed off on that embarrassing gala stunt. 3 When I got back to the Admin department, four pairs of eyes snapped up, staring at me. My throat tightened, and my nose stung. I opened my mouth but couldn’t speak. Devon managed a bitter smile. “From Boss’s expression, I guess we’re out of luck. Fine. I’ll figure out the wedding somehow.” Tess wiped away a tear. “Everyone pooled some cash for me. I can get my mom a general practitioner appointment now. The specialist will have to wait.” Patrice was silent, texting, likely telling her husband the checkup had to be postponed. All of their anger and frustration were swallowed whole, mixed with their tears. I clenched my fists tighter. “Patrice, didn’t you have a good contact in HR?” Patrice nodded. “Young Maya. Why?” “Go ask her if the company has any big moves planned.” Patrice immediately sent a text. A few minutes later, her face drained of color. “Boss, Maya says… Victor has been wanting to replace our entire department for a while. He’s annoyed that our salaries haven’t budged in three years, and he wants to bring in a batch of cheaper, fresh college grads.” “And,” Patrice gritted her teeth, “Tori has asked Legal to prepare materials. She said if we dare to make a fuss, they’ll audit our books—vendor kickbacks, expense report fraud—they’ll find enough to bury us.” “This time,” I said, my voice hoarse, the desperation in my eyes turning to steel, “we are not letting this go.” Patrice looked up. “Boss, remember Graham Hastings at Aegis Group? He called me last week. Said Aegis is expanding, needs staff for their Admin systems, and asked if I was interested.” “What did you tell him?” “I didn’t commit. Just said I’d think about it.” Patrice offered a rueful smile. “If I’d known this was coming, I’d have said yes immediately.” “It’s not too late.” I said. “Go ask him how many people he can take.” “Are you suggesting… we all jump ship together?” “Let’s try. If it doesn’t work, we’ll rethink.” Patrice instantly pulled out her phone. “I’m calling him now.” Devon’s eyes lit up. “Boss, Aegis is one of the biggest names in the industry! If we could land there…” “Don’t celebrate yet,” I cautioned. “This has to be top secret. Victor cannot know where we’re going until we officially resign.” “Why?” “Victor is petty and vindictive. He started his company by poaching talent from Graham’s previous firm, and they have bad blood. If he knows we’re jumping as a unit to Aegis, he will try to sabotage us.” “Understood.” Devon nodded. “Boss, tell us what to do.” Patrice’s call lasted half an hour. When she emerged, a genuine smile was finally on her face. “Graham said Aegis is setting up a new Admin Hub and needs a complete, experienced team. If we’re willing, we can all go.” “What about compensation?” “Base salary is 30% higher than here, year-end bonus paid quarterly, maxed-out 401k and benefits. He can arrange the interviews for next week.” Tess jumped up, excited. “Seriously?” “Graham’s word. It’s solid.” Devon slapped her thigh. “What are we waiting for!” “Hold on.” I raised a hand to calm them. “We have a few things to take care of first.” “First, organize all our documents. Back up everything that needs backing up. Take pictures of everything that matters.” “Second, work as normal. Don’t show any signs of change. Wait until the interviews are done and the offers are confirmed.” “Third, we need to secure a written commitment for severance—N+1 is the legal minimum, and we’re taking every cent.” “Fourth,” I paused, “the company’s books are dirty. And we have the proof.” All four heads turned toward me. “Remember the expense reports last year? Victor was using company funds to cover private dinners. We had to find receipts to match. Remember those business trips where he took his mistress to Aruba? The tickets and hotels were all billed to the company.” Devon inhaled sharply. “Falsifying invoices…” “More than that,” I continued. “Three of the vendors on our approved list are shell companies owned by Victor’s brother-in-law. Millions of dollars processed annually, with zero actual work delivered. That’s a conflict of interest and potential corporate asset misappropriation.” Patrice’s face changed. “Boss, are you suggesting…” “I’m not suggesting anything.” I looked at them pointedly. “I’m reminding you to keep those files safe. Just in case, you know, we ever need to set the record straight.” The team nodded, a silent, grim understanding passing between us. 4 The next week, the job transition proceeded smoothly. Graham at Aegis took the matter seriously. He personally interviewed us, and all five of us passed. The formal offers arrived quickly. Our start date was set for the beginning of next month, perfectly aligned with our projected departure. I thought everything was going to plan. Until Friday afternoon, when Victor suddenly messaged the company-wide chat. [All-Hands Meeting at 3 PM. Admin Team must attend. Important Personnel Announcement.] My heart sank. At 3 PM sharp, the conference room was packed. Victor stood at the front next to a strange young man wearing gold-rimmed glasses and an impeccably tailored suit—a classic, entitled MBA type. “I’ve called you all here today to announce an important change.”

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  • The Hero Complex

    Worried that the girl he sponsored couldn’t afford a train ticket, my childhood sweetheart changed his college application from Southern University to a local college in our city. When I found out, there were only two hours left before the deadline. My best friend, cautious and hopeful: “Chloe, there’s still time.” “You can change it now, it’s not too late.” I looked at the photo of Liam Carter on my screen and shook my head bitterly: “I won’t change it. Let it be.” 1 At 5 PM, the college application deadline officially passed. Only then did my best friend believe that I was truly set on going to Southern U. She excitedly started planning my college life. Just then, the sound of the digital lock unlocking came from outside. Liam Carter walked in with Sarah Miller in tow: “Chloe, did you finish your application?” “I told her already. With our grades, the only local colleges we can apply to are those few. But Sarah was still worried and insisted on coming over to ask.” “She cares about you more than I do.” As he spoke, he looked at the girl beside him with a helpless yet indulgent expression. After deciding not to go to the same college as Liam, my mindset seemed to have shifted. Seeing him intimate with Sarah no longer made my heart ache. I nodded calmly: “I’ve filled out my application. Do you guys need something?” Liam, seeing my cold expression, looked a bit displeased: “Chloe, what’s with the attitude?” Sarah glanced at him, lowered her head in embarrassment, and spoke timidly: “Chloe, my family is poor.” “Southern U is too far from us. Just the train tickets for winter and summer breaks would cost a lot of money.” “My SAT scores were just average. Rather than going out of state, it’s better to stay local.” “It’s all because of me that Liam decided to change his school at the last minute.” “We were just picking a major for me, so we didn’t make it here in time. We only called you.” “Please don’t be mad at him.” Listening to Sarah’s words, which sounded like an explanation but were actually showing off, I said indifferently: “Didn’t you know all of this long ago?” “Why didn’t you say anything when we first started applying? Why wait until now?” Sarah looked startled and hurriedly explained: “It’s not like that.” “I discussed this with Liam a long time ago. We just finalized it now.” Discussed a long time ago? I lowered my eyes. Turns out, while I was full of anticipation about going to Southern U with Liam… He was planning his future with Sarah. Seeing I didn’t respond, Sarah’s voice grew quieter, eventually ending in a sob. As if she had been wronged terribly. Liam spoke up, dissatisfied: “Alright, Chloe.” “Didn’t I tell you when I changed my application?” “Why won’t you let it go?” His cold tone woke me up instantly. I looked at the handsome boy’s face and avoided his gaze: “I’m not mad. I was just curious why you suddenly changed your application.” Now that it’s clear, I can finally let go completely. 2 Liam and I were childhood sweethearts. After my dad passed away, my mom went south for business, leaving just me and my grandma at home year-round. Some mean classmates knew about my situation and would bully me. Stealing my pencils during exams, letting the air out of my bike tires after school. I didn’t want to worry my grandma, so I could only wipe my tears secretly. That’s when Liam appeared. He beat up the bullies fiercely and took me to a shop to fix my bike. From then on, I became his little follower. Going to school together, leaving school together, walking through the seasons of our youth together. We agreed to apply to Southern U together, and once we got in, we would officially start dating. Until a year ago, when Sarah appeared. She was a student from a poor family sponsored by Liam’s mom. Because the education quality in her hometown was poor, she transferred to the city for her senior year and stayed at the Carter’s house. At first, Liam was a bit resistant to her. Whether at home or school, he rarely spoke to her. But Sarah carefully tried to please him. Afraid of upsetting him. Sometimes when I saw her, it was like seeing myself back then, bullied and helpless. When Liam ignored her, I would talk to her. I even advised Liam to be nicer to her. But he remained unmoved. Until one day after school, we found Sarah hiding alone in a classroom. Solving problems while crying silently. Liam’s expression at that moment was complex—moved, guilty, unbearable. Thinking back now, there was also a hint of imperceptible heartache. After that, his attitude softened. He would let me go home alone so he could tutor Sarah. He would switch seats to be next to Sarah because she didn’t get along with her deskmate. This afternoon, he called to say he was giving up Southern U to stay local with Sarah. I felt sad and disappointed. But mostly, I felt a sense of relief. Like something had finally settled. 3 Liam was certain I would follow him and change my application back to a local school. He didn’t even ask me where I applied. Just left with Sarah. When my best friend, Ruby, and I arrived at the restaurant for the class reunion, they were already there. I looked around and picked a seat furthest from Liam. I didn’t notice the confusion in his eyes when he looked at me. A guy close to Liam joked: “Chloe, why sit so far away?” “If you don’t make a move, Liam might really get snatched away.” As for who would snatch him, everyone present knew. Sarah wasn’t angry; instead, a blush crept up her face, and she glanced shyly at Liam. The class president sensed the awkward atmosphere and tried to smooth things over: “What nonsense. Liam and Chloe are so close.” “They agreed to go to Southern U together.” “Right, Chloe?” Before I could speak, Sarah answered first: “Liam didn’t apply to Southern U.” “He was afraid I couldn’t afford the living expenses there, so he applied to a local school with me.” Her face was full of triumph, as if declaring victory. The table went quiet. Someone couldn’t help but ask me: “Chloe, is this true?” “Aren’t you mad?” I looked at the smug Sarah and answered nonchalantly: “What’s there to be mad about?” “Everyone has their own choice.” Just like Liam chose Sarah. And I chose Southern U. 4 Halfway through the meal, I went to the restroom. When I came back, I found Liam and Sarah had somehow switched to the seats next to mine. Liam’s face was flushed; he must have had some alcohol. Seeing me, his eyes sparkled, and he leaned close to my ear: “Chloe, I know you’re still mad about me changing my application.” “But you know Sarah’s family situation.” “If she goes south for school, she can’t even afford the train tickets for breaks.” “Staying local makes it much easier for her to go home.” “She’s timid and has a soft personality.” “You wouldn’t have the heart to leave her here alone for college, right?” “Sarah said so.” “If you want to go south, we can go on a trip together in a couple of days.” “So don’t be mad, okay?” I pushed Liam’s head away as he leaned too close and took a sip of tea: “I said, I’m not mad.” “Besides, didn’t Sarah say she couldn’t even afford living expenses for college? Where did she get the money for a trip?” Crash. The cup in Sarah’s hand fell to the ground. She bit her lip and looked at me: “Chloe, I know your family is well off, so you’ve always looked down on me.” “I borrowed the money for this trip from Liam, but I’ll pay him back slowly.” “Is it only rich people like you who can enjoy their youth?” “Do kids from poor families like us just have to accept our fate and work part-time everywhere?” Classmates whispered: “Chloe does seem to be targeting Sarah a bit.” “Yeah, although Chloe has good grades, her temper is a bit bad. If I were Liam, I wouldn’t choose her either.” Sarah’s eyes were filled with tears. Liam’s gaze gradually turned cold: “Chloe, apologize to Sarah.” Ruby stood up for me: “Isn’t she the one who keeps saying her family is poor?” “Chloe just asked a casual question. Why should she apologize?” “Summer break is so long; she could totally work part-time to save money for a trip.” “Now she’s not doing work-study, nor going back home to help her parents.” “Hanging out with you every day, borrowing money for a trip. If not her, who else to criticize?” Sarah cried even harder. Watching the scene in front of me, I suddenly felt bored. I pulled Ruby up to leave. Liam grabbed my wrist, unrelenting: “Chloe, apologize to Sarah.” “Or else, don’t even think about coming on the trip.” My wrist hurt from his grip. I pried his fingers off one by one and sneered: “Liam Carter, go wherever you want with Sarah Miller, do whatever you want.” “I have no interest in getting involved between you two.” “Not the slightest interest.” “Don’t come looking for me again.” With that, I left without looking back. Leaving Liam standing there with a dark expression. That night, Sarah posted on her social media. In the photo, her fingers were intertwined with Liam’s. Caption: At the best age, meeting the best you. I glanced at it, but my heart didn’t waver much. I continued packing my luggage, planning to spend the summer with my mom.

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  • The Imposter’s Confession

    Seven days after I was found and brought back home, I stumbled upon a confession post online. [Actually, the year my parents adopted me, I knew the real daughter was also in the orphanage. But I didn’t dare say anything. I was afraid I wouldn’t have a home and would continue to be bullied by the director.] [Now my parents favor me and treat her badly. I feel so guilty. How can I make it up to her?] In my past life, I discovered the poster was the fake daughter, Chloe. I broke down and dragged my crippled right leg to confront her. But that night, she couldn’t handle the pressure and jumped off a building. My parents blamed me for her death, screaming out of control for me to pay with my life. Only my adoptive brother protected me. He took me away to live elsewhere. But he refused to get me a doctor and tormented me daily. “You drove Chloe to her death. You killed a vibrant life with your own hands. You must use your life to atone and repent.” In the end, I fell into severe depression and jumped off a building, just like the fake daughter did years ago. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day I discovered the post. 1 Netizens thought Chloe was just fishing for attention to gain followers and left all sorts of sarcastic comments. She continued updating. [My parents raised me for eighteen years. They have feelings for me and couldn’t bear to send me away, so they let me be the real daughter’s sister.] [The first time my sister and I met, we were both five. We became best friends in the orphanage. But I was afraid her parents would recognize her and not adopt me, so that day I tricked her into playing hide-and-seek and told her to hide.] [Later, I wanted to find her, but she had been adopted. She lived a very bitter life all these years. Her leg is crippled, and she’s skin and bones.] [I heard her adoptive family was terrible, beating and scolding her, neglecting her. They made her drop out before finishing middle school to fend for herself.] [In contrast, I grew up in luxury, never lacking money. If I so much as sneezed, my parents and brother would nervously call the family doctor. I also attend a top private high school. I really feel sorry for her…] In my past life, it was because I read these that I completely exploded. How could I not hate? The first day I was recognized back into the Moore family, my mother hugged me and cried bitterly. My stern-faced father’s eyes reddened. My adoptive brother, Lucas, gently patted my head. We should have lived happily ever after. But Chloe appeared. Wearing a beautiful dress, wearing diamonds I had only seen in advertisements, smelling sweet and soft. I subconsciously lowered my head. My right leg, crippled by my adoptive father, barely supported my malnourished body. My $9.99 bargain bin clothes smelled weird after being worn for too long, and black lint from the fabric was stuck under my fingernails. Why? She occupied my life. I hated Chloe. She had changed too much, so I didn’t recognize her as “Dumpling” from the orphanage. After getting lost back then, I was sent there by kind people. Never full, never warm. The director was fierce, but nice to Dumpling. Every time the director took Dumpling away to “play games” and brought her back, she would have a bag of snacks. I wanted snacks too, so I asked her how to play the games. She said: “The games aren’t fun at all. They hurt, and they smell bad. If you want to eat something, I can share with you.” “But you can’t become clean, or the director will easily force you to play games.” I believed her and played in the dirt every day like a little monkey. Until one day, six months later, Dumpling suddenly wanted to play hide-and-seek with me. When I came out of the closet. It was dark. She had been adopted by rich people. I felt happy for my best friend. But she lied to me. The truth was ripped open, bloody and raw. In my past life, I went crazy and hit Chloe. Attracting my parents and Lucas. Learning that Chloe caused me to be separated from them for thirteen years, my parents couldn’t believe their obedient daughter was so vicious. She cried and apologized over and over. “I’m sorry, Sarah. I ruined your life. I’m sorry…” Not long after, Chloe jumped off the building and died in front of me. My parents, who were originally angry at her deception, collapsed the moment they saw her body. Mom grabbed my collar, out of control. “What did Chloe do wrong! She was just too afraid of being bullied by the director! She wanted parents to protect her! Why did you have to expose her and drive her to death!” “She was also my daughter!” Then what did I do wrong? Being crippled at the best age of my life. Starving until I picked trash to eat, wearing one pair of shoes for four seasons. Is whoever dies the innocent one? I forgot how I left the Moore house that day. I only remember Lucas hugging me, separating me from my parents. His embrace and voice were equally warm. “Don’t be afraid. Brother is here.” But his existence was also because Chloe wanted a brother, so they adopted him. 2 Lucas settled me in his apartment and wiped away my tears. “From now on, you’ll live with me, right here.” But Chloe’s death became my nightmare. When I woke up screaming at night, it was Lucas who held me tight, coaxing me softly. “Don’t be afraid, don’t be afraid. Brother is with you.” “Brother will find a movie for you to watch. Distract yourself and don’t think about those things.” But scenes of falling in movies made me even more afraid. So Lucas switched to opera. The passionate voices tugged at my nerves. Only by holding Lucas’s hand could I feel a moment of peace. Like duckweed, relying on the water source that allowed me to survive. Love grew in despair. My mental state got worse and worse, and I tried to save myself. “Take me to see a psychiatrist tomorrow.” Lucas refused. He pressed close to my ear and asked gently. “When Chloe died, her head was smashed. Have you thought about how much it hurt?” “Do you remember? Before she died, she was apologizing to you. Do you forgive her in your dreams every night?” “Sarah, you are a murderer.” “You drove Chloe to her death. You killed a vibrant life with your own hands. You must use your life to atone and repent.” It turned out Lucas didn’t take me away because he knew I wasn’t wrong. He did it to torture me and avenge Chloe. So in this life, I closed that post and pretended not to see it. I didn’t want to become a sinner again. I wanted to use the Moore family’s influence to climb up. Then leave this place forever and live the life I want. Only I can make myself feel safe relying on myself. So, I went downstairs and told my mom. “I want to continue studying.” 3 When I first came home, Mom mentioned transferring me to the high school Chloe attended. I hated her and was afraid of being mocked as a cripple, so I refused immediately. Now that I brought it up myself, Mom was very happy. “That’s great. Chloe will have company at school from now on.” “Sarah, you’ve missed a lot of classes. Your brother happens to be a junior in college. He can tutor you. Ask him if you don’t understand anything.” Lucas was sitting nearby watching TV. Hearing this, he looked up. Still the gentle appearance in my memory. But I didn’t want to have anything to do with him anymore, so I shook my head. “No need to trouble Brother. I can ask the teacher.” Lucas lowered his eyelashes slightly. “Suit yourself.” “Let’s eat.” Chloe came downstairs too. She sat opposite me cautiously. Mom put food in our bowls and smiled, mentioning I would go to school. Chloe’s face turned slightly pale. “It’s good that sister is willing to study. I will take care of sister at school…” I interrupted her softly. “Mom, I can’t eat celery. I’m allergic to celery.” I discovered this when working part-time. I was so hungry I ate leftovers from customers, but broke out in a rash and had difficulty breathing. The shop owner was scared and called an ambulance. Afterwards, because I affected the shop’s business, he deducted my $100 salary for that month. Mom was stunned, and quickly picked the celery out of my bowl. “It’s Mom’s fault. Mom will remember from now on.” “Chloe, you eat it. You like celery the most.” But she threw away that piece of celery and picked a new piece for Chloe, as if my bowl was unclean. Mom picked up another piece of fish, carefully removed the bones, and teased Chloe. “You have to eat a bite of meat after eating celery, otherwise it won’t be the balanced diet you want.” The love that should have belonged to me fell on Chloe. Chloe carefully observed my reaction. I just took big bites of meat. The fake beef I ate before was soft and tasted like tofu. Unlike the meat I was eating now, bouncy and savory. I ate very quickly. Suddenly there was an extra piece of ribs in my bowl. Lucas picked it. “Ribs are delicious too. You can’t just eat beef.” I froze, daring not to touch it. Subconsciously guessing, is there something wrong with the ribs? My nose felt hot. He quickly took a tissue to help me wipe the nosebleed. I stood up in panic and backed away. The chair legs dragged on the ground making a harsh sound. Mom looked over, and I spoke in a panic. “I’m full.” Running upstairs, I heard Lucas’s low instructions. “Mama Wang, Sarah seems to have internal heat. Cook her some sweet soup to cool it down.” Lucas was such a considerate person. After I came home, even if we had no feelings, he would care about me, whether I was used to living here, whether my clothes were warm enough. That’s why in my past life I never suspected that his kindness to me hid hatred. But it doesn’t matter. In this world, Chloe won’t die. And I won’t have a mental breakdown and jump off a building. The enrollment procedures were done quickly. On Monday morning, I could go to school with Chloe. She came to my room. 4 Chloe was holding an orange bag with a backpack inside. I had seen customers carrying it when I delivered food part-time. It was called Hermes or something, very expensive. “Sister, your school bag is a bit small. There are many subjects in high school, it won’t fit. This one is new, I’m giving it to you.” From the day I came back, Chloe found excuses to give me expensive things. I thought she was showing off and refused coldly every time. Now I realized that was her compensation for guiltily stealing my identity. This time, I accepted it without hesitation, estimating the resale price. After all, money won’t lie to people. Seeing I didn’t refuse, Chloe’s steps leaving were a bit lighter. I took the bag downstairs, ready to go to school. Passing the living room, Mom suddenly stopped me. “Sarah, do you like Hermes too?” “If you like it, Mom can buy it for you, but you shouldn’t steal…” Mom coughed lightly and changed to a euphemism, “You shouldn’t take Chloe’s bag.” I was stunned. “Chloe gave this to me.” “Impossible. Chloe treasures this limited edition the most. Usually she can’t bear to use it. Once when I teased her about giving it away, she even cried.” At this moment, Chloe came down. Hearing Mom’s words, she hurriedly admitted. “I gave it to Sister.” Mom didn’t understand. “Don’t you like this bag very much?” “I…” Chloe stammered, daring not to tell the truth. But it made Mom misunderstand that I bullied her, and her face darkened. Lucas walked over. “It was indeed Chloe who gave it. I heard it upstairs just now.” Chloe nodded immediately. “That’s right, Brother can testify for me.” But Lucas had been downstairs with Mom the whole time. Mom sighed. “You siblings are just too soft-hearted.” “Then let’s forget about this matter.” Lightly glossed over, I became a thief who couldn’t be cleared. I clenched my hands and didn’t explain further. Mom wouldn’t believe me. They were Chloe’s family. Whatever I did was wrong, so why say more? I turned around and found a consignment shop to sell the bag. Seven figures. A number I couldn’t earn even if I died working. Being treated as a thief was worth it.

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  • The Substitute’s Vengeance

    Every one of Sebastian Thorne’s lovers looks like me. But the day I returned to the country, he smirked and said, “I’ve seen too many knockoffs; even the original is nothing special.” A month later, he got rid of all his flings, keeping only one pure college student by his side—someone who looked nothing like me. Sebastian thought I rushed back because I was afraid he had fallen for someone for real this time. But I didn’t come back to beg for his love. Five years had passed. While he was scouring the world for my doubles, I was already pregnant with my second child. 1 The day I returned, Grandfather Thorne threw a welcome banquet for me. Sebastian was conspicuously absent. His cousin looked at me with disdain. “Didn’t you say you’d never return to the Thorne family? Why can’t you sit still the moment you hear Sebastian found true love?” I paused. “Then congratulations to him.” “Stop pretending,” his cousin sneered, pointing at the door. “Sebastian’s here. Save your acting for him.” Sebastian wore a grey shirt, collar slightly open. After five years, he looked much more composed than I remembered. He sat down very close to me. I turned my head and saw a lipstick mark on his collar. Grandfather Thorne, oblivious, sighed from the head of the table. “You two have been fighting for five years. That’s enough. When are you going to remarry?” I stayed silent. Sebastian laughed. “Grandpa, my little girlfriend already dislikes that I’m a divorcee. If she hears this, she’ll tear the roof off.” Grandfather Thorne’s face darkened. “Can those women outside compare to Chloe?” “This time is different,” Sebastian glanced at me. “This time, I’m serious.” 2 “Nonsense!” Grandfather Thorne was too angry to speak. Everyone else looked at me—some with pity, others waiting for a joke. I lowered my eyes and said softly, “Grandpa, I appreciate your kindness, but I will never remarry Sebastian.” No one expected me to be so definitive. After all, they had all seen how I used to value Sebastian over my own life. Crash—a crystal goblet shattered. Sebastian slowly wiped the blood from his hand. “Slipped.” 3 A long time later, I realized the group chat had exploded. “Chloe, why did you hide such big news from us? Congrats!” “Sebastian really went all out this time.” “Boohoo, I knew you guys would get back together!!!” Confused, I scrolled through hundreds of messages until I saw Sebastian saying he was getting married and posting a picture of the ring. A flawless pear-shaped pink diamond that any woman would swoon over. I thought about it and clarified. “Sebastian isn’t getting back together with me.” The screen paused, then scrolled frantically again. “Right, what getting back together? The lovebirds never broke up.” “Just a little long-distance kink.” “Hehe, Chloe, we get it.” Until Sebastian suddenly appeared and added his little girlfriend to the group: “Let me introduce my wife, Lola. She’s young and has a temper, so go easy on her…” Before he could finish, the girl coquettishly grabbed the phone. “Don’t listen to his nonsense. I’m very easy to get along with.” On the voice message, Sebastian laughed dotingly. Some smart aleck started a new group and asked Sebastian directly: “Seb, if you marry someone else, what about Chloe?” Sebastian replied quickly: “If you don’t find it disgusting, go be the rebound.” “Seb, if you say that, I might really chase Chloe?” Sebastian ignored him, and the group started mocking the guy for overestimating himself. The guy persisted: “Who wouldn’t want a bite of swan meat?” The group went silent. Then Sebastian said lightly: “Even swan meat gets boring if you play with it too much.” 4 The group called Sebastian stubborn and asked me out for dinner the next day. But when I arrived, I found Sebastian and his little girlfriend were there too. The person who invited me looked awkward and whispered, “Seb insisted on coming, but he didn’t say he’d bring her.” I nodded, indifferent. The girl named Lola wasn’t shy. She quickly mingled with everyone, especially sticking to me. “Chloe, Sebastian told me everything about you two. I don’t mind.” “To see you, I pestered him all night.” “I didn’t expect you to be prettier than the photos. You don’t look seven years older than me at all.” “How do you maintain yourself? Must be hard work. Do you only use expensive brands?” A friend couldn’t stand it and signaled Sebastian: “Not going to control your girl?” “I dare not,” he laughed, pinching Lola’s cheek. “She’s a little ancestor, hard to coax.” “Hmph, as long as you know!” Sebastian used to love coaxing people when he was young. But as he grew up and was pampered everywhere, he developed a reckless temper. I hadn’t seen him coax anyone like this in a long time. Lola stuck her tongue out at me. “Sorry, Chloe, I didn’t mean anything bad.” She picked up two glasses of wine and handed me one. “I apologize to you, sister.” She downed hers in one gulp. I didn’t bother pretending. “Sorry, can’t drink.” Lola’s eyes reddened instantly. “Chloe, do you look down on me?” Sebastian’s tone turned cold. “Chloe Vance, have I given you too much face?” “Today, you drink this wine whether you want to or not.” Friends quickly tried to smooth things over. “Chloe, it’s just one glass. Who doesn’t know your tolerance?” I shrugged helplessly. “I’m pregnant. I really can’t drink.” Dead silence. “Pfft!” Lola laughed out loud. “Hahahaha, Chloe, I’ve seen this kind of nonsense excuse online. You can’t fool me.” Others laughed too. “Saying you took antibiotics would be more credible.” “Chloe, don’t scare people like that. My heart stopped.” Sebastian impatiently snatched my glass. “Fine, fine, you won’t drink. You’re amazing.”

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  • The Red Tag of Fate

    During a company retreat, we visited a temple. My colleagues all drew lots and hung them on the wishing tree. I don’t believe in gods or buddhas, so I didn’t participate. A colleague laughed and called out to me. “This couple’s lot has the same surname as you, Chloe!” “Chloe Vance, Sebastian Thorne… the names sound like a match.” My boss, who was lighting incense, suddenly looked up. “Sebastian what?” 1 When I heard that name, I instinctively looked back. My eyes met my department manager’s gaze. He glanced at the red tag with the names written on it, looking puzzled. I walked over with my bag. “Boss, did you call me?” “Oh, no.” He looked at me, then back at the tag. “The young heir of the Thorne Group took over some time ago. His name is Sebastian Thorne.” My colleague got interested: “These two names don’t sound very common.” “Could it be you had a fling with a billionaire?” “I suddenly remember… before I transferred to purchasing, I heard about someone who cursed out Little Chloe and got fired a few days later. No procedure, just kicked out directly.” I adjusted my glasses and looked down. “If I really had that kind of background, I would have plastered my resignation letter all over the office building, written an email reporting every idiot who ever offended me, and cc’d the entire company.” Someone nudged me with their elbow. “Hey, watch your mouth, the boss is still here.” “Sigh, no need to hide it, who doesn’t know she’s blunt.” “Remember that brown-noser who showed off his watch to her? She told him to crawl outside and peacock there.” Laughter erupted around us. Incense smoke drifted from the copper urn. That red couple’s tag was passed around, getting wrinkled. “Give me the tag,” I said. “I have to help hang it back up.” Others went into the main hall. I sat under the tree, taking a long time to remember this place. Sebastian Thorne’s mother was from the south and was particularly religious. To please his mother, whenever he saw a temple, he would go in and light incense. During the years we were together, I don’t know how many small, exquisite temples like this we visited. I don’t worship gods, so I waited for him outside. That time was an exception. After drawing lots, he said it was a very auspicious sign. So he bought a red plaque, wrote two lines of names with a flourish, and hung it high on a branch. He also said that after making a wish, he had to show his face in front of the Buddha statue according to custom. I couldn’t refuse, so I went in with him. I watched him straighten his clothes, raise the incense to his forehead, and bow three times. I didn’t make a wish. I believe in myself more than gods. Colleagues walked out of the hall in groups and went to another spot to take photos. I clutched the red tag tightly and sneaked into the hall like a thief. The rose-red incense stick was rough. I lit it hurriedly, imitating the posture in my memory, and bowed down. If making wishes really works… I want to see him one more time. 2 After visiting the scenic spots, my colleagues wanted to eat and asked where to go. I joined the group and we dived into a food stall. A few girls at the next table were eating happily, clinking glasses and exchanging gossip. This one cheated. That one was entangled for years and finally broke up. A male colleague joked, “Exciting enough. I haven’t even dated at my age.” “It’s okay, you have company. Chloe definitely hasn’t dated either… wait, that expression, don’t tell me you have?” “Curious who could stand Chloe’s sharp tongue.” “Maybe he couldn’t stand it, so we broke up.” I smiled perfunctorily and didn’t respond. It’s been over a year since I broke up with Sebastian Thorne. I was the one who brought it up. Because of a small thing— He was rear-ended on a business trip and sprained his left hand. But he didn’t tell me. I missed him and video called him, but he didn’t pick up immediately. Half an hour later, he called back. I recognized the background was a hospital and realized he was hurt. A young female employee sent by the partner company to receive him tried to smooth things over. She said the injury wasn’t serious, but he needed to rest and be observed for a few days. He came to the hospital in a rush, so he didn’t tell me. Look, even others knew to at least make an excuse. There were many things before this. For example, he encountered difficulties in business. When I asked, he brushed it off lightly. He no longer needed me to travel with him. Avoiding talking about troubles in life with me. Even when his father was seriously ill, he only told me he needed to leave home for a while. I had many things I wanted to tell him every day. In the chat history, there was more green than white. The videos I shared on TikTok were never liked. I didn’t even know if he had clicked on them. He didn’t like posting on social media. Even if he did, it was reposting news about domestic management, with a few brief comments. Matching avatars, official announcements, never happened. I could only be anxious day after day. And ask him again and again, do you love me? He answered quickly and firmly. But he always looked at me with a helpless and tolerant look— As if he didn’t understand why I had to repeatedly confirm the same thing with him. I was too young when I met Sebastian Thorne. When I was struggling with what to eat for the next meal. He was understanding various affairs in his family’s company. When I was interning with him, I saw him handle difficulties with ease countless times. He was only six years older than me, but much, much more mature. Things that gave me a headache, he could handle as if they were nothing. My initial attraction to him probably came from that ease. But I didn’t expect everything to have two sides. The tricks I used due to insecurity, jealousy, and seeking attention hit him like hitting cotton, gently caught by him, not stirring up a single ripple. The time Sebastian sprained his arm and was in the hospital. We only said a few words before hanging up the video. He remained calm and told me: “Looks like I’ll be home a few days late. I had someone send your gift back. Don’t worry, it’s just a small matter.” Just a small matter, don’t worry. I don’t know how many times I’ve heard this, to the point of numbness. I really wanted to get angry right then. Questioning words almost blurted out. But seeing his unconcerned face, the anger vanished in an instant. What was there to say? He didn’t plan to tell me, how could I pry his mouth open? I stared blankly at the black phone screen. Looked around, and suddenly started crying. I didn’t know why either. I really wanted to go to his hospital and see. Ask him, how did the car accident happen? What was the situation at the time, how were the other casualties? Will his hand have sequelae? Was he panicked when he was hit? That night I tossed and turned. Scrolling through our chat history from bottom to top, trying to find some evidence of his enthusiasm for me. None. Only transfers, transfers, transfers. I really liked money. Before I was with him, I felt that work and making money were everything in life. Love was something only the elite could pursue. For ordinary people, it was irrelevant. I only needed myself, plus a bulging wallet, and that was enough. Turns out people are greedy. I closed WeChat, looked at the bank card balance, happy and crying at the same time. Finally couldn’t help but video call Sebastian. Only after dialing did I realize it was past 3 AM. He must have fallen asleep and was woken up again. He looked exhausted when answering the phone. Draped in a coat, tie loosened, shirt buttons undone. Leaning on the hospital bed, as if he didn’t expect me to call at all. After seeing me clearly, he froze for a moment before speaking. “Why are you crying like this. Save your tears, there will be times when they are useful.” I thought I had agreed with myself not to cry. To be calm, clearly accuse him of dereliction of duty as a boyfriend, and then break up. But seeing his face, emotions suddenly couldn’t be suppressed. “Sebastian, why don’t you tell me anything?” “It’s just a slight sprain. If I told you, you would have skipped class and flown over like last time. You’re in your second year of grad school, leave a good impression on your advisor.” I raised my voice, “It’s not just about today!” Silence on the other end. Sebastian’s expression slowly became serious. Through the screen, looking at me unblinkingly. I turned my head to cover my eyes, turning the camera away from my face. “Those things that make you feel very uncomfortable, very sad, you won’t tell me a single one?” “Do we have to talk about etiquette, report good news but not bad?” “I just… want to know the big and small things in your life.” “Clearly before… when you encountered difficult things, you would tell me in detail, when you met difficult cli… clients, you would scold them with me!” “Do you have no desire to share with me now?” My chest trembled uncontrollably. Pressing words into intermittent characters. On the other end of the phone, the hospital bed creaked. Sebastian lifted the thin quilt and got out of bed, pulling on his jacket with one hand. “Chloe,” he said, “I just don’t want to affect your mood.” “Do you think I can’t handle my own emotions? It’s not like I haven’t been scolded at work!” “That’s different.” “How is it different?” “Work is work. With subordinates, it’s business, problems need to be communicated and solved frankly, but a girlfriend is different.” He said, “You are young, being with me, I have the obligation to ensure you are happy, not to worry about me. In my ideal state, you only need to think about what entertainment to do today, or gather with others to swipe cards, preferably bring me a gift conveniently. If I make you feel stressed or start worrying that I can’t handle something, it means I’m useless.” “So you don’t communicate life with me, not even your father’s death?” “I was very busy then, very busy. Too many people came to offer condolences. If you wanted to pay respects, I would not only have to handle the funeral, but also constantly pay attention not to neglect you. I couldn’t attend to it.” I stared at the screen, silent. Long silence in the audio, only rustling sounds. His left hand was inconvenient, barely put on clothes. Looking at me again, eyelids deep from lack of sleep. “Don’t cry. I’ll buy the earliest flight back, let’s talk face to face.” I stopped crying. Sat on the bed, looking at him for a long time. “Don’t come back.” I said. “When I was your assistant, you said I was practical and capable. You asked me if I had any suggestions for you, asked me what I ate today, did I sleep well, I didn’t have the energy to go on a mentally exhausting business trip with you.” “I don’t understand.” “We became boyfriend and girlfriend, why is the distance further.” “If the relationship makes you feel I’m delicate and weak and need your care for everything, then let’s take a step back.” “Is it true that if we return to being friends…” “You will look at me equally again, and tell me some things you won’t tell me now.” I pressed my dry eyes, no moisture in my palms. He slowly leaned back on the sofa, sighing to comfort. “Chloe, when you reach my age, you will know…” I interrupted him. “I don’t know, and I don’t want to know.” The gap of relative silence. I lowered my head, even I couldn’t figure out the motive for speaking. “Sebastian, do you love me?” He spoke with certainty. “Yes.” “That’s enough.” I hung up the phone and moved out of his house that night. Breaking up didn’t make me feel relaxed. Those past events squeezed into the gaps of my thinking. Forcing their way in, making other things impossible to think about. Then suddenly withdrawing. Leaving only emptiness and continuous, lingering pain. 3 The team building ended, flew back north. A few days of travel felt like a long dream. Only the red tag with names in my pocket repeatedly mocked me, can pick up but can’t put down. Things to do before the new year have entered the final inspection stage. Everyone started to have nothing to do, waiting for the holiday. Brandon called, asking me to attend a wedding banquet with him. “Whose wedding?” I asked. Rare rest in a year, didn’t want to spend energy seeing unfamiliar people. Brandon’s voice was low, refusing to tell me who was getting married. “Chloe, I really don’t know who else to tell. You have to come with me.” I checked the date and agreed. Arriving at the wedding scene, I realized the bride was Brandon’s ex-girlfriend. I was finally happy. “Hey Brandon,” I nudged him with my elbow, “You should have been the wedding car driver, you know the way to pick up the bride best.” Brandon gripped his chopsticks, furious. I acted oblivious, admiring the bride’s attire. “This MC is no good.” I said, “You should go, you rehearsed the process of marrying her many times, right?” He gritted his teeth, after a while, laughed. “Are you sick?” Got scolded. I was satisfied, concentrating on picking dishes from the banquet. Brandon’s ex-girlfriend’s family status wasn’t low, the family demanded high standards for a son-in-law. The two dragged on for several years, breaking up and getting back together. Finally Brandon felt he couldn’t convince his future in-laws, and proposed breaking up. I looked at the newlyweds on stage, then at Brandon drinking silently. If it were Sebastian getting married, I would definitely… I would definitely not go. I can wish him success, wish him health, but I won’t wish him happiness. The white wine on the table was opened. I poured half a glass, clinked with Brandon on my own. He said, “Don’t eat too much, drink a bit with me later.” I nodded, risking my life to accompany the gentleman. After eating the meal where Brandon poured out his heart, the street was empty. I was sleepy to death. Seeing him find a designated driver, I simply closed my eyes, lying in the back seat sleeping soundly— Until dawn. I was woken up by the cold. Not at home, still in Brandon’s car. Window opened sometime, wind was freezing. Scenery outside strangely familiar. Half asleep, recovered for a moment, suddenly awake. … It’s Sebastian’s house. I looked at Brandon incredulously. “You spent money to hire a driver to run hundreds of kilometers a night just to prank me once, right?” “Sigh, you really guessed it.” “Are you sick?” I punched his shoulder wildly, “Drive away quickly!” In the scuffle, his elbow hit the steering wheel. The car honked abruptly. The housekeeper auntie walked out suspiciously. Glanced at me, oops. “Miss Vance! You haven’t been here for a long time!” I hurriedly stopped her, “Auntie! Don’t tell Sebas…” “Quickly tell the master, Miss Vance is back.” Auntie pressed the intercom and said a few words, then came back to senses, “Huh? Miss, what did you say?” I collapsed back in the rear seat, “Nothing.” Brandon laughed loudly. “Why not get off, aren’t you most familiar with this place?” “Master invites you in. You don’t know, he always stays up late, abusing his body while young.” Auntie complained, opening the car door for me, “Master said you were busy and had no time to come, where did you go this year? Why didn’t you even come home.” I didn’t know how to answer, could only smile. Auntie talked to herself. “You came at the right time, he’s free these days, can accompany you to play.” Words of refusal hovered on my lips. The familiar small building was in front. Should I see him one more time? See him one more time, talk things out, maybe I can let go of the obsession. I got out of the car like a ghost. Smoothed my hair looking at the phone. Rubbed my face with hands, trying to eliminate the edema after a hangover. The thought in my mind was shouldn’t go, but my feet moved forward step by step. The road to Sebastian’s house, I used to walk it every two or three days. Sometimes to pick up documents for him. Sometimes to pick him up for a dinner party. Sometimes work went wrong, caught by him to teach me privately. Meeting him was an accident. Rumor has it that before children of wealthy merchants enter the management layer, they will let their children spend money in games to raise a team to practice. Sebastian was my financial backer in the game. Teaming up to clear dungeons is hard work. When busy, have to stay up all night. Fortunately, he was generous. Every season, he sent all wages to me. I distributed to every member. Relying on him, I saved tens of thousands. Didn’t expect jokes frequently in the game. Many teams had leaders embezzling member wages, causing backers to be named and shamed. Rich kids had never suffered such shameful bitterness. For a time, all major backers were investigating their subordinates. Sebastian asked nothing. Transferred another hundred thousand bonus to me, calmly said: “I don’t care how much you took before. This time, must be divided equally by head count.” I said: “I didn’t embezzle.” “Season wages plus benefits start at 500,000, money passing through your hands these times at least three million. Water too clear has no fish, subordinates do things well, take some profit, I don’t mind.” I said: “I didn’t take a cent. Every sum is recorded, no joke.” Silence opposite for a moment, asked my education. I sent a photo of my campus card to him. After a while, a short voice message popped up. His tone approving. “Work with me.” So connected with company colleagues. Occasionally assigned some practice tasks. Come holiday, directly threw a workstation photo let me go report. I worked cross-discipline, mostly no specific tasks, just responsible for watching and learning. Sebastian rotated through grassroots departments of the company for experience, busy as a bee. His rank wasn’t enough for an assistant. Meeting important clients, had to use the identity of the crown prince to show face. I was dragged around everywhere. Felt like a duck, stuffed with various knowledge. Occasionally accompanied him on business trips, had to take days off. My relationship with roommates was stiff, simply rented outside school, convenient to work anytime. Friends sympathized with me. Said this kind of horse-cow internship couldn’t be found with a lantern, asked where I found it. But I felt very good. Studying this crappy major was like two feet in the grave. One side is finding no job starving to death in the grave. One side is dirt on the construction site. Encountering work that doesn’t require stationing at the construction site, I was too happy to laugh. Besides, it’s boss direct hire, entering to mix with the company’s young master. The second I realized I liked him, I felt pain. If clarified, I would lose a very good job. If hidden, feelings beyond subordinate would eventually make me crash. Better to propose leaving myself. Approaching New Year then, business trip ended. Sebastian leaned back in the rear seat, rubbing his brow, “Why not get in the car?” I returned the red envelope received to him. “After graduation, I might not join.” He didn’t take it, asked me, “Why.” “If I pass the exam, I want to continue grad school.” “Good thing, I support. Come back after you finish reading, I have a place for you anytime.” He tapped the leather seat, “Wind is strong, come up.” I held the car door, shaking head. “Not that meaning.” At the dinner table, I didn’t have to accompany toasts. But maybe the winter atmosphere was too suitable for a drink, I also mixed Sprite and drank a few cups. “Sebastian, I seem to like you. Liking the boss is very unethical.” He leaned back in the rear seat, didn’t let the driver drive for a long time. Suddenly leaned forward and grabbed my wrist. I was pulled to sit by his leg, heard the heart beating violently. Car door isolated the chill, he exhaled. Folded the suit jacket aside, took out a small long velvet box from his side. “Then unethical things, have to let me do.” Necklace studded with slender marquise diamonds, valuable but not excessively expensive. I was stunned, “Why choose me?” He said. “I trust you completely.” “If you are at home in the future, I think I will be very relaxed.”

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